WARRIOR'S BRIDE Read online

  Sweet. She tasted like bananas and coffee and chocolate wedding cake. His arousal throbbed, and he had to clutch the arm of the chair mercilessly to keep from ripping that silly drooping sweater down to her wrists.

  She ran her hand through his hair and kissed him back, her mouth warm and pliant. "It's been a long day. I think I'd better put these dishes away and get to bed."

  Bed. Sounded like an excellent plan. Maybe she should just skip the dishes part. "No, you go ahead. It'll just take me a minute to clean up out here."

  "Okay, thanks."

  Emotions warring inside his chest, he watched her pad softly out of the living room. He wanted her. With the pent-up passion of an eight-month wait he wanted to be inside her. But he'd made a promise, and he never broke his word.

  Closing his eyes, he listened for several minutes to the sounds of the night. Outside, leaves swirled around the cement driveway, carried on a light breeze. A car drove by. His bed creaked invitingly down the hall, calling him to his wife's embrace.

  Damn, it would be so easy to love that woman. He wondered if, perhaps, he hadn't already started to.

  Strangely, the prospect didn't alarm him. It seemed she genuinely cared for him, and she had told him she truly wanted their arrangement to work. Maybe Tanya was right and Rini was different from the others, and he could let down his guard. Maybe his heart would be safe with her, after all.

  He smiled as he turned off the gas and watched the fire die. Mindlessly humming a Pueblo flute tune, he cleaned up and then strolled to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

  A few minutes later he took a last glance at himself in the mirror. The face that gazed back looked happier and more content than it had in years. Husband, father and, with any luck, lover. He could do this. Rini would help him move on, help him leave the past with all its hurts and disappointments far behind. He had been right to choose her at the powwow. She wouldn't abandon him now. Not after today. How could she?

  * * *

  Katarina had already unpacked all her things earlier, putting them away in the voluminous dresser Cole had emptied for her. So there was no way of stalling any longer.

  She approached his bed with a combination of arousal and trepidation. It was big. Very big. Acres of rustic wool Pendleton blanket covered forest-green sheets on a rich, honey-colored wooden bed frame. She leaned the heels of her hands on it, testing the mattress. The bed protested with a light squeak. She snatched her hands away, glancing guiltily at the door, hoping Cole hadn't heard.

  Cole, her husband.

  Shaking herself mentally, she picked up her nightgown, then looked down at the sweater and leggings she had changed into after taking a calming shower this afternoon. She didn't feel much more composed now than she had then. The tender kiss he'd just given her was as disturbing as his hold words about sharing his bed had been.

  Lifting the cotton gown to her cheek, she indulged herself in a little fantasy about Cole coming into the room later and slowly stripping it off her.

  Suddenly, she realized what she was doing, and tossed the gown onto the bed. She really must banish these thoughts. This marriage was a business proposition and nothing more. Despite Cole's loving kiss earlier, love was not on his agenda. He'd made that abundantly clear all through their wedding day. On the other hand, it was hard to believe it was her less-than-hourglass figure that was prodding him into making these overtures. She wondered briefly what his motives were.

  Quietly, she found the bathroom and made her preparations for bed. As she walked back to her room, she stretched. Her back had started to ache and she wished she had a hot water bottle to tuck behind her tonight.

  "Is your back hurting again?"

  "Oh!" She jumped, finding Cole standing right in front of her. "A little. I don't suppose you have a hot water bottle?"

  "Sorry." He appeared to think for a second. "But I'll go you one better. How about a back rub? You said it helped before."

  She shook her head, a bit too vigorously, vividly remembering exactly how good she had felt the last time he'd given her a massage. And not just her back, either. "Thanks, but no."

  "Just a back rub, Rini. Let me do this for you."

  She reached for the wall behind her. "I, uh…" She faltered.

  This was a bad idea. A really bad idea. But it sure would be great to be able to fall asleep for once without that dull ache in her lower back. Wanting his hands on her body had nothing to do with it. Nothing whatsoever.

  He took a step closer. "I don't like to think of you hurting."

  "Well…" She inhaled sharply when he slid an arm around her waist and began to knead her spine with his fingers. She struggled to form words. "Just a back rub?" For a split second, as she looked up into his eyes, she forgot completely that she wanted him to answer yes.

  He pulled her imperceptibly closer. "You have my word I won't even try to kiss you—" the corner of his mouth kicked up "—first."

  A frisson of desire sparked down her spine. "First?"

  "You're in charge. You lead, I follow."

  How did he know that putting her in control of things would practically guarantee she'd be putty in his hands? "You play dirty, you know that, Counselor?" she whispered.

  He gave her a roguish grin, worthy of a Barbary Coast pirate. "You have no idea."

  She cleared her throat, hoping the action would somehow clear the sensual fog clouding her brain, too. "You need your eyes checked, Cole. I'm eight months pregnant."

  He slowly ran a thumb along her jaw. "And every bit as sexy as the day I got you that way."

  She blinked several times, flustered, a warm pressure building behind her eyes. Hormones, she thought desperately—she even cried at milk commercials these days. She lowered her eyes and chewed her lip. "Now I know you need glasses."

  He smiled at her tenderly and tipped her chin up. Their gazes locked. She expected to be kissed, but he didn't lower his mouth to hers.

  "Going to make me wait, Rini?"

  She swallowed. Right. She was in control. Swallowing again, she nodded, still uncertain of what she wanted to happen next. She nervously searched his face for a sign of anger or frustration, but found none. Instead, an amused grin formed on his lips.

  "Okay, darlin'. I can wait." He stepped back and swept an arm toward her bedroom. "In the meantime, would you like to slip into something more comfortable?"

  Now, there was the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question. She eyed him uncertainly. "Just how comfortable did you have in mind?"

  He flashed that grin again. "Naked?"

  She closed her eyes against the surge of raw desire that swept through her body. Moment of truth.

  Was this what she wanted? More than anything. Should she consent? God, no. She'd be a fool to put herself through any more heartache because of this man. She opened her eyes. "I don't think this massage thing is a very good idea."

  She started to back away, but he caught her fingers in his. "Joking aside, Rini. You've had to put up with so much during these months, all on your own. I want to help now. Even if it's just easing your sore muscles. Trust me. I'll be as good as you want me to be."

  Sincerity was written on his every feature. She took a deep, cleansing breath. Why, oh, why was she so darned gullible?

  "I trust you, Cole." She gave him a weak smile and murmured, "It's me I'm not sure I can trust."

  His brow rose along with the corners of his mouth. "Mmm. I like the sound of that." At her withering glance he raised one hand in mock surrender. "Kidding."

  He started backing into her bedroom, pulling her gently with him. When she resisted, he cocked his head. "Coming?"

  She cast a look down the hall, suddenly panicking. "Um, I think I … I, um, left my nightgown in the bathroom."

  "Okay." He indicated her room. "I'll just wait in here."

  She rushed back to the bathroom and closed the door, leaning against it. Oh, Lord. She wanted him. She couldn't deny it. But she wondered again what his reasons were for wanting her.r />
  When she couldn't delay any longer, she reluctantly returned to her room. Pausing at the door, she caught her breath. Her old four-poster never looked quite so inviting as Cole's king-sized bed did at that moment. He had piled her mound of extra pillows onto it and was stretched out beside them, arms stacked under his head, eyes closed. Her nightgown hung tidily over the foot rail of the bed. His sensual lips were turned up at the corners—the smile of a buccaneer with treasure on his mind.

  Katarina's gaze traveled across his broad shoulders and skimmed down his tapered torso, snagging at the junction of his muscular thighs. Even in repose he was powerfully masculine. Her throat tightened, her blood growing thick and hot in her limbs. It was all she could do to keep from melting on the spot.

  "Look at me like that much longer and I might get to thinking you enjoy the view."

  She jerked her gaze away and felt her cheeks burn. "Sorry."

  Rolling to his side, he lifted up on an elbow. "Sweetheart, you can look at me anytime you want." The heat in his eyes made her think he wanted to say more, but he just sat up and tipped his head at her nightgown. "That what you were looking for?"

  She gave a weak smile and nodded.

  He patted the bed beside him. "Come on over here, Mrs. Lonetree."

  She glanced nervously at the quilt where his hand rested, and inched her way toward the bed. Mrs. Lonetree? She noticed that he'd turned on the lamp on the nightstand, and it cast a cozy glow over the linens.

  "Scared?"

  Her chin went up a notch and she shook her head. "No, of course not."

  He smiled. "Liar." Sliding off the bed, he gestured at the pillows. "I'll get out of your way so you can arrange them how you want."

  She climbed up into bed and hugged the top pillow to her chest. A loud click sounded behind her and she whirled around.

  Cole had closed the door she'd deliberately left open, and he was leaning against it, arms folded at his waist, one ankle crossed negligently over the other. He flicked off the overhead light. "Do you have any baby oil?"

  Her eyes strayed to the mirrored dresser and back to him. "No. Why?"

  He pushed away from the door and strolled to the dresser, then, one by one, slowly examined the few personal items she had set on it earlier. Still hugging the pillow, she watched in the mirror as he ran his fingers across the brushes and bows, lifting her two perfume containers to his nose. When he found her small bottle of fragrant oil he twisted off the cap and rubbed a drop into his palm, testing the scent.

  "Gardenia." His eyes met hers in the mirror.

  "It's my only vice. Terribly expensive, but I can't make myself stop buying it."

  He walked over and set the bottle on the nightstand next to the lamp. "I'll replace what we use."

  She frowned at it, then looked up. "But…" It dawned on her what he had in mind and her lips parted. She shook her head.

  He shrugged, grinning. "Whatever. Your call." He sat on the edge of the bed. "Lie down."

  She ignored the flock of butterflies flying stunt tricks in her stomach, and turned back to position the pillows. She changed her mind several times about their arrangement, until his deep, rich chuckle sounded in her ear. "I swear, Rini, if you'd been this nervous back in May, we'd never be having this baby. Relax." He grasped her shoulders gently. "It's just a back rub."

  Just a back rub. Just a back rub.

  Who was he kidding?

  She felt as nervous as a sixteen-year-old awaiting her first kiss.

  The wood of the old bed creaked comfortingly as she eased herself down at an angle onto the mound of pillows. She felt a tickle of warm breath on her neck.

  "Ready?"

  She assumed it was a rhetorical question since his hands alighted softly on her back and ran all the way down her spine and then up again. She shivered in delight.

  Lost.

  She was lost in a world of velvet caresses and soft moans. He worked her aching muscles until they were as supple as warm taffy. Until she glowed with the heat of his hands and tingled with anticipation of more intimate touches. When he slipped his hands under her sweater, her body shuddered from head to toe.

  "You like that?" he murmured behind her, caressing her back.

  She was beyond speech, so she hummed her answer on a sigh. "Mmm-hmm."

  "How do you want me to touch you, sweetheart?" He pulled her sweater up to her waist and then a little farther.

  "Take it off, Cole," she whispered. Shocked at her own scandalous suggestion, she nevertheless lifted up a bit to help him.

  A low sound came from his chest when he swept the sweater up her midriff, grazing the sides of her bare breasts, and pulled it over her head. The sweater hit the floor with a poof. A strand of hair fell across her upturned cheek, and he lifted it behind her ear with his finger.

  "So beautiful," he whispered, and her heart swelled with joy. The sound of his hands rubbing together was followed by a waft of gardenia in the air around them. Tentatively at first, then more boldly, he massaged the light oil into the skin of her back, stroking it on with slow, sensual movements.

  Her body was liquid fire. A steady throb of desire between her legs pulsed deeper with every heartbeat. Even the slight contractions she felt around the baby pulled the coil of tension in her woman's center that much tighter.

  "Turn over, lover, so I can do the other side."

  His words hit her like an erotic wave. Without letting herself think, she obeyed. He sat on his knees, watching her turn, his eyes hooded, his face taut. His gaze brushed over her bare breasts. "Oh, God, Rini."

  He tossed a few of the pillows aside, then poured more oil into an unsteady palm, and smoothed his hands together. Starting with her fingers and hands, he worked up her arms, placing them above her head when he was done.

  Her heartbeat sped as he spilled a few more drops of oil onto his hands. Her already hard nipples tightened eagerly, craving his touch. Her eyelids fluttered shut.

  He drew his fingers along her jaw, then gently stroked down her neck and applied the oil to her upper chest. Her tortured breasts ached for his caress, but his hands skimmed by them, smoothing down her sides and ribs until they hit the top of her leggings. He hooked his fingers under the elastic, and her body arched

  "Shall I do your legs?" His voice sounded raw, almost hoarse.

  She opened her eyes and looked into his. Reckless hunger, want and steely determination were what she saw. Blood surged rhythmically through a vein in his temple.

  If Cole could take it, so could she.

  "I'd like that," she whispered, mewling softly when he quickly drew her leggings and panties off in a single motion. She turned her head shyly, not daring to watch his reaction to her swollen body.

  "Woman, you are so incredibly beautiful."

  Slowly, she turned back. She lay before him, naked beneath his ravenous gaze. Over eight months pregnant, forty pounds heavier than usual, and she'd never in her life felt as sexy or alluring as he made her feel at that very moment.

  A muscle jumped in his clamped jaw. A light sheen of perspiration coated his forehead. He reached for the bottle of oil and drizzled a thin line from her foot to her trembling thigh. With strong, clever fingers he massaged her ankle and calf, moving slowly up past her knee to her thigh. She could feel the back of his hand brush the curls between her legs, but maddeningly, frustratingly, he came no closer to the place where she most wanted him.

  He started on the other leg. By the time he reached her upper thigh, she was a witless mass of molten desire. Wantonly, she parted her legs slightly, inviting his intimate caress. She nearly groaned in frustration when he took a deep breath and started on her belly. Lord above, he had to run out of safe territory soon.

  Suddenly it hit her. He was waiting for her to tell him what she wanted. He'd promised a massage and nothing more, unless she said so. The man must be a saint.

  "Cole?"

  "Yeah, babe?" A rivulet of sweat trickled from his cheek down his neck and disappeared i
nto a stain spreading on the front of his white T-shirt.

  "You missed a few spots."

  * * *

  Chapter 11

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  Kneeling beside her, Cole swallowed heavily. "That right?"

  Katarina nodded, loving the effect her words were having on him. "Uh-huh." Loving him.

  She deliberately shifted her body, stretching her arms above her head, subtly thrusting her breasts out. Cole caught his breath. Oh, yes. She could deny it no longer. She was in love with her husband and longed to show him just how much.

  "Where did I miss?" he asked in a strangled voice.

  "My earlobes," she said teasingly.

  She watched his jaw clench, the muscle twitching wildly. "Okay."

  He moistened his fingertips with oil and gently kneaded the sensitive lobes between them. A moan of pleasure escaped her.

  "Anywhere else?"

  "My lips."

  His gaze dropped to her mouth, his teeth clamped tightly. "Right."

  Using his thumb, he stroked oil onto her lips, easing back and forth across her lower lip, smoothing over the bow of her upper lip.

  "Wonder how it tastes," she murmured, then swiped her tongue over his thumb. "Hmm."

  "Well?" His eyes were black as midnight, his face a study in painful restraint.

  She licked her lips. "Not too bad. You should try it."

  He blinked a couple of times, his eyes on her mouth. Without lifting his gaze, he sucked on his thumb where it had touched her lips. "Mmm. Spicy."

  The air between them sizzled and cracked with electricity. Cole's chest heaved with labored breaths. Her own was tight with want.

  His eyes locked on hers. "Rini, are we done here?"

  She shook her head. "Almost. Just one more place."

  He exhaled slowly. "All right. Where?"

  She caught the front of his T-shirt in her fingers and gave it a little tug. "Come closer and I'll tell you."

  He slid his legs down the bed and stretched out beside her, holding himself up on his forearm, bending his head to hers. She turned to him and pulled him closer yet, so their noses were end-to-end, their parted lips nearly touching.