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The promise brought a hint of pink to her cheeks. This time when Lorna turned away, Benteen let her go. She crossed to the wagon and climbed inside. There were many preparations she wanted to make before he came to her.
Removing the pins from her hair, she untangled its dark length from the coiled bun, then brushed it until it crackled and glistened. She stripped off her clothes all the way to the skin, and sparingly used Lady Crawford’s lotion to make her body silken to his touch. Evening shadows were stealing in when she slipped under the quilt to wait for Benteen.
It wasn’t long before the tent flap was lifted and he stepped into the back of the wagon. Unable to see in the darkness, Lorna listened to the sounds he made undressing. When he raised the quilt to lie down beside her, she felt a tremor go through her body.
“I hope this night will be as long as all the others have been.” His voice was lower than a murmur as he moved to her.
It was too late for any kind of second thoughts as his mouth searched hers with a hunger Benteen didn’t try to control. She closed her eyes as her lips parted voluntarily to deepen the kiss. There was no more reason to think as instinct took over and her hands slid compulsively up his muscled shoulders.
His fingers were tunneling under the weight of her hair and spreading down her spine to gather her closer. She felt him stiffen. The demanding pressure of his mouth eased as he muttered thickly against her lips, “My God, you aren’t wearing any clothes.”
“No. I wanted it like our wedding night—with nothing between us,” Lorna admitted in a murmuring whisper.
His hands began to move over her body, down her spine to the slender indentation of her waist and the rounded curve of her hip. Lorna shivered with a raw pleasure, moaning softly. Benteen accepted the silent invitation and abandoned her lips to nibble at the slim curve of her neck.
Inevitably, it seemed, he continued his exploration to the taut swell of her breasts. Where his kiss had been hungry and demanding, he now teased and tantalized. His tongue was like rough velvet on her breast, tracing small spirals around the sensitive rosy peak. Her hands buried themselves into the thickness of his hair and tried to force an end to the exquisite torment.
The moment spun out endlessly as Lorna surrendered to the passion he aroused. His hands and mouth were creating havoc with her senses, disturbing her all anew. She whispered his name over and over.
When he finally responded to her wordless urging and moved onto her, she felt a second of panic under the weight of him, but the warmth of his mouth reassured her that she had nothing to fear. And the coupling became very natural and right, mutually desired and gloriously satisfying.
Yet, when it was over and Lorna was resting in the crook of his arm, trying to breathe normally again, she sensed something hadn’t been as it was before. There was a part of him that Benteen hadn’t given her. He’d held back the emotional side.
“What’s wrong, Benteen?” she murmured, and let her hand glide across his curling chest hairs.
“Nothing.”
Somehow, she knew he was lying. “I wasn’t really going to leave you,” she said, because it was something she had never told him in so many words. “I just wanted to hurt you, because you threw away the roses. It was childish.”
“You feel like a woman.” His hand kneaded the softness of her shoulder to confirm it.
“I’m trying to be serious,” Lorna murmured.
“I don’t want to talk about it, Lorna.” His voice was flat and firm.
“But we should be honest,” she persisted. “You said it yourself.”
“You wanta be honest?” Benteen challenged, and shifted position to lie on his side, looking down at her. “Then tell me what made you decide to hide my bedroll?”
“Maybe I was afraid of losing you to some other woman,” she suggested, to see his reaction.
“Try again, but come up with a better story,” he mocked.
“You could have been with one of those dance-hall girls all day,” she insisted. “What did you do in town, besides buy me a hat? You didn’t hire any trailhands.”
“I wasn’t with any dance-hall girl all day.” Benteen smiled and traced his finger along her jaw. “And, if I had known I was going to get this kind of thanks for buying you a hat, I would have come back much sooner.”
“Why did you buy me the hat?” Lorna let him sidetrack her, deciding against mentioning the brass token she’d found in his bedroll.
“I hoped it would make you look more like a boy,” he admitted, and ran his finger over her lips and against her teeth. “I was going out of my mind looking at you in those pants.”
She bit his finger, not too hard, but hard enough. “That’s for wanting a boy instead of your wife,” she told him.
“Maybe I could have both.” His mouth began a descent toward hers. “A wife and a son.”
“What if I want a daughter?” she asked.
“Why do you always have to disagree with me?” Benteen muttered. “We’ll have a son first, then a daughter.”
