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How can I possibly stop something so wonderful!
A fire began in her belly, spreading all through her, heating her. He turned her so he could start unbuttoning her dress again, his lips trailed down her neck, as he released the buttons in a frenzy. His lips found the sweetness of her skin, and he nibbled.
It didn't take long for him to have the dress falling away from her shoulders and she shrugged, without thinking. She no longer used her brain, while her body was being primed for love.
He pushed the material away and kissed her back.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured. "I never imagined such beauty."
Even his words ignited her. Never had a man told her such beautiful things. Never had a man touched her in this way. And she didn't want to stop him any longer.
He pushed the dress down and away from her, as he turned her to see the beautiful silk and satin camisole. His lips went further down her neck, onto her shoulder and then just above her breasts.
"I need—" she started to tell him, as kisses stirred her onward.
"I know what you need, darlin'." He whispered over the roundness of her shoulder.
He chucked his jacket and shirt quickly, as he lay on the bed with her, half naked. She saw his beautiful chest and her hands itched to travel over him. She'd never been intimate with a man, and the things he was doing and teaching her went straight to her heart.
He stood up and took all his clothes off. She stared at the magnificent body before her. From his wide shoulders that tapered down to a rock-hard stomach, to long legs and then.
"Oh my," she gasped, staring at the shaft that stood at attention for her. She turned her head away but peaked through her fingers to stare. She'd never seen a man like this. Never!
"I'm glad you're not shy now, Priscilla."
That woke her out of this trance he wove around her and she raised up, scooted over to the other side and grabbed the sheet.
"I'm afraid you've made a huge mistake, and so have I."
"Honey, don't be shy, I'm not going to hurt you!" He'd chucked his boots, clear across the room. He put a knee on the bed.
"Don't move," she threw up her hands to stay him as he came to her side of the bed, to stare at her. There he was in all his glory standing there naked as a jaybird. And for a moment all she could do was stare and blush. She'd never realized just how beautiful the male body was, until now!
"I am not Priscilla!" she began. How she got those words out,
she'd never understand for she couldn’t take her eyes from him.
The room quieted now. "Is this some kind of joke? You were on the right train, arriving at the right time. What is this? Are you suddenly sorry you married me?" he smiled obviously thinking she was joking.
"Lord no!" The words tumbled from her lips before she could stop them. "I mean. I'm Trudy O'Toole, your cook!" she exclaimed, dropping her head in shame.
"What!" his face contorted into frowns and puzzlement as his head jerked with the news. He shook his head, stared and his sexy grin disappeared faster than a Texas tornado.
She shook her head, wrapped her arms around her camisole and cried now, "You married the wrong girl!"
Suddenly he grabbed the quilt and wrapped it around him. "You're my cook!" he nearly shouted but she almost laughed at his struggle to be decent. She'd already seen it all, and what she saw made her swoon, but she wouldn't be telling him that.
She nodded and he went back to his side of the bed, sat down on the edge and put his face in his hands.
"I married my cook!" he said softly, then louder repeating it, and shaking his head.
Chapter Two
She sat on the opposite side of the bed, afraid to move. Was he going to fire her and send her on her way? She wouldn't blame him. But she'd been in some kind of fog through all of this and it was hard for her to figure out too.
She never drank Champagne. She'd never bought a dress like what she was married in, and she certainly never kissed a man, like she had him. But would he believe it, because for a while there, she had let go of all her inhibitions.
He silently put his clothes on and left the room. Without a word. He didn't throw a fit, he didn't get mad and yell, he just put his clothes on and left.
