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Anger scorched her insides at the thought that it might have been Terrance! Would he? Or Josh? Was either of them capable of such an act as this? Or, could they be working together? Was their hatred toward Shane this intense?
"Ledgers?" Shane said, forking an eyebrow.
Melanie linked an arm through Shane's and began walking with him toward the house. "Entries must be mad
e daily to keep up," she said, curling her nose distastefully when smoke wafted toward her from the burning carcasses. "My father said that I was a most skilled bookkeeper."
"I know of no ledgers, or where they are kept,"
Shane said in a grumble. ''I will probably fail at that, also."
Melanie shot him a quick look. She frowned at him.
"Don't let doubts plague you," she scolded. "No one could have prevented this. How can you blame yourself?"
"It is because I am here that they are dead," Shane said, breaking away from her and striding into the house.
Melanie hurried after him, breathless as she reached him just outside the parlor. She grabbed him by an arm and forced him to stop. "Shane, you mustn't let anything stand in the way of your living here, where you belong," she said softly. "You mustn't let whoever poisoned the cattle see you defeated."
She tugged at his arm. "Come on, Shane," she urged him, giving him a wistful look through her long, dark lashes. "Let me help you. Please? I can find the ledgers. They are probably in a desk drawer. That's where father always kept his."
Shane looked down at her, his expression brooding. She gazed up at his bronzed, handsome face, feeling something mystical and magical suddenly weaving itself between them.
"Shane, what are you thinking?" she asked, a warmth blossoming within her as she saw his mood changing. His jaw was not as tight; his chin not as firm.
She gasped as his hands reached out to cup the roundness of her bottom through her soft, buck-skin dress, and he drew her into the manly contours of his body. He crushed his mouth down upon her lips, his tongue plunging inside her mouth.
Her pulse racing, she twined her arms around his neck and was lost in passion. When he began gyrating his body into hers, she raised a leg and wrapped it around him, drawing him closer. She was flooded with a sweet desire that spread within her like a warm summer breeze, touching her all over with a lilting softness.
"I need you," Shane said huskily, drawing his mouth from her lips. He gathered her up into his arms and carried her toward the stairs. "I need you now, not tonight, Melanie. You move me in many ways with your sincere and generous ways. I am moved at this moment to make love with you."
Oblivious to servants standing in doorways watching, aghast, Melanie lay her head against Shane's powerful chest, the cotton of the shirt cool against her flaming cheek. She would not humiliate Shane in front of the servants by denying him this moment of need just because they were being observed. One humiliation a day was enough.
And wouldn't the servants have to get used to her presence in time? She and Shane were surely going to be married. In truth, wouldn't marriage be the answer to everything?
The bedroom reached and the door closed, Melanie stood before Shane, her blouse already unbuttoned. She became breathless as she observed him undressing, a garment at a time, matching those she removed from herself, until they were both standing nude before one other. "We truly ought to be studying the ledgers," Melanie said, laughing lightly as she moved into Shane's embrace. She began running her hands across his chest, scarcely touching his flesh, then lower, across his abdomen.
Shane sucked in his breath and closed his eyes as Melanie's lips and tongue began making a hot, wet trail downward from where his thudding heart lay beneath his chest, lower still, to where his muscled thighs stiffened with building need.
"Shane, I love you so," Melanie said, brushing light kisses along his thighs, then daring to kiss that throbbing part of him that would soon send her to paradise.
"Melanie," Shane said thickly, twining his fingers through her auburn hair, guiding her mouth closer . . . closer . . . .
Melanie placed her hands to Shane's waist and urged him down onto the pallet of furs. Settling on her knees between his legs, she continued to pleasure him, thrilling her as she heard him groan and moan with pent-up ecstasy.
"Enough," Shane said in a growl. He took her by the shoulders and gently drew her up beneath him. Entering her with one fierce thrust, he began his skillful strokes within her. His lips suckled on her breasts, his hands excited her body.
She raked her fingernails along his back, to his thrusting hips, then splayed them against his buttocks. She kneaded his flesh in rhythm with his strokes. She could feel his excitement peaking, matching her own.
Gently coiling his fingers through her hair, he guided her lips to his mouth. "You are all sweetness," he whispered. "How can I have found you? How is it that you are mine when everyone else hates me? How can you love me, Melanie? Do I not repel you at times when you think of my past? Most see me as an Indian lover and detest me for it. Tell me you don't, and never will, Melanie! Tell me!"
Melanie's eyes clouded with warm tears. She placed a hand to Shane's cheek. His lips were so temptingly close to hers, but for a moment she was denied the pleasure of being kissed by them.
"My darling, never doubt my love for you," she whispered, tracing the perfect outline of his lower lip with her forefinger. "How could I ever detest you, or be repelled by you? You are all that is good on this earth, and I am so lucky that you are mine!"
Shane gazed down at her for a moment longer, his eyes filled with dark emotion.
Then he buried himself more deeply within her and rocked with her, his muscles stirring and flexing down the length of his lean, tanned body.
