Give Me Tonight

8

RUSSELL LIKED TO GRUMBLE LOUDLY ON THE EVEnings when he worked in his office. The sounds of his counting and frustrated exclamations penetrated the walls and wafted down the hallway, clearly audible in the parlor where May, Caroline, and Addie did needlework. May and Caroline mended clothes while Addie embroidered the border of a pillowcase.

They had been sewing a long time, long enough for Addie to have grown sore from sitting. She shifted in her chair and contemplated the scene around her. Cade had finished his homework and gone upstairs for the night, while the rest of the household was already sound asleep. It was quiet in the parlor, too quiet for Addie's peace of mind. She bent her attention to the half-formed flower on the pillowcase in her lap, but her thoughts wandered restlessly. May and Caro's blond heads were bent over their work. It amazed Addie, how remarkably alike they were in their outward serenity.

She wondered how they could look so tranquil, when they really weren't any more peaceful than she was. Inside they were restless too. Addie had seen and heard May's bitterness as she had talked about the life she could have chosen so long ago, a life very different from this one. And Caroline was more complex than any outsider would guess. Addie shook her head slightly, staring at May and Caro. Why were they so much better at hiding their real feelings than she was?

At least I dare to say what I really think most of the time. But they almost never do. None of the women around here do. Who had made up the rule that women were never supposed to get angry, that they were always supposed to be tolerant and calm and forbearing? Men had decided that. Men liked their women to be just short of saintly, while they themselves never bothered to control their tempers or choose their words carefully. They could stomp all over other people and be as rude and coarse as they wanted, and then the women had to smooth things over afterward and make everything right again. May and Caroline were perfect examples of nineteenth-century womanhood. Caretakers, peacemakers.

I won't be like them, Addie thought moodily. I couldn't even if I wanted to. It would mean playing a part all the time. And I'm not that good an actress.

Caroline, however, played the part to perfection. Addie moved her attention exclusively to her sister. How different Caro's inward and outward selves were. She looked as if she'd never done or said anything improper in her life. Blond, serene, passionless… it seemed Caro had inherited little of her father's lusty nature. She appeared to be perfectly content to have a husband who didn't share her bed. A few weeks ago Peter and Caro had moved into separate bedrooms, using Caro's pregnancy as an excuse. At this very moment Peter was sleeping upstairs, with no expectation of seeing his wife until tomorrow morning at the breakfast table.

Addie had been astounded by the Warner family's lack of surprise at the situation. They had all taken it for granted that Caroline had no need to be intimate with a man unless it was for the purpose of conceiving children. But Addie knew about Caro's affair with Raif Colton. Caroline was a woman of flesh and blood, not marble, and she had a need to give and receive love.

Addie felt sorry for Caroline. Was that all her sister intended to have for the rest of her life, a lifeless marriage and a few memories of passion? Addie had the feeling that inside Caro there still burned a love for the hot -tempered cowboy who had been her lover, the father of her firstborn, a man who'd been killed as violently as he had lived. As she sat there sewing placidly, did Caro ever think about him and what they'd shared? Maybe she couldn't let herself.

I could never make the kind of mistake she did, Addie thought in wonder. I could never give Ben up for someone else, no matter how right or wrong it seemed. I guess I don't have the strength.

Addie had never been so conscious of the differences between herself and the other two women as she was at this moment. Long ago they had accepted the role that women were supposed to assume. Sacrifice, submit, put your own needs behind everyone else's. Tolerate the things that bring you pain, bend like a reed in the wind. That took a different kind of strength from what Addie had. She had been raised to respect her own needs just as men respected theirs. She wouldn't last long as a martyr. She didn't have the quiet, steely patience it took to suffer uncomplaining day after day.

The days of her childhood were gone, but they were still a part of her. Living with Leah during those years after the war, she had learned to work and scratch for pennies, had discovered she could carry the weight of many burdens on her shoulders, just as long as she had the freedom to make her own decisions. That freedom of making choices must never be taken away.

And I'll never go through life without feeling and belonging, never again. I won't spend my days hoping they'll go by quickly, feeling numb about everything.

She jumped slightly as she felt the sting of her own needle. "Ouch!"

"Stuck yourself?" May inquired.

"Yes, Mama. I just can't concentrate on this."

"Why don't you find a book to read?"

Addie didn't feel like reading, but she nodded halfheartedly, setting her work aside. She grimaced as she saw she'd left a little spot of blood on the cloth, one that would have to be camouflaged with more embroidery. Then she heard the light, seductive plucking of guitar strings drifting in from outside, and her pulse quickened. Ben was playing his guitar on the steps of the small two-room ranch building he lived in, as was his habit when dinner was finished early. The melody was soft and coaxing.

"What a pretty song," Caroline commented, and Addie stood up hastily. It was impossible to resist the lure of that music.

"I'm going for a walk," she muttered, and left the room. They all knew where she was headed.

May called out after her, her voice low and compressed, "Don't be long, you hear me?"

Then Caro's voice, softer, cajoling, as she spoke to May. "Mama, you know whatever you say against him will only make her more determined. It might be wiser to say nothing."

"Good old Caro," Addie whispered, grinning to herself. Why had so many of the friends she had once known complained about their older sisters?

She went outside and skipped down the steps like a child, suddenly lighthearted. Her heart seemed to expand with gladness as she saw Ben. The moonlight cast silvery-blue highlights in his dark hair and illuminated the long stretch of his legs as he sat in the doorway of the little building. One of his feet was propped on a step, the other resting on the ground, while the guitar was saddled on his bent knee.

He smiled as he saw her and continued picking out a melody, his eyes never leaving her slender form. Addie hooked her fingers into a handful of material on either side of her skirt and swished it with each step she took, feigning nonchalance.

Their gazes met as she came nearer, exchanging wordless promises.

"Do they know you're out here?" Ben asked, nodding toward the house.

"I told Mama and Caro I was taking a walk."

"That's all? You didn't mention me?"

"They knew I was coming out here to see you." Ben grinned. "Then it's a little coy to say you're just taking a walk, isn't it?"

She pretended to pout, turning to go back where she'd come from, pausing to throw him a glance over her shoulder. "If you don't want my company, just say so."

"I'd never say that, darlin"." He moved over a few' inches and indicated the space next to him with the neck of the guitar. "Have a seat."

"It's too narrow. I wouldn't be able to fit in there." His smile was devilish. "Give it a try."

Addie managed to squeeze next to him and fill the remaining space in the narrow doorway. "Oh, I can't even breathe-"

"I'm not complaining." He leaned over and slanted his mouth over hers. Her tongue met his, warmth against warmth, offering and tasting, until Ben's blood stirred with increasing vigor. He made a deeply appreciative sound before pulling his mouth away, mindful of the need to keep up appearances. Clumsily he reset his fingers on the strings and regarded the guitar as if he'd never seen it before.

"Did I used to know how to play one of these things?"

She chuckled and then nuzzled deeper into his neck, loving the scent of his skin. "Yes. Play something beautiful for me, Ben."

He bent his head to the guitar and obliged. The haunting melody she had heard so many nights while alone in her bed seemed to curl around them. She pressed her cheek against his shoulder, her eyes halfclosing with bliss. "That sounds so sad."

"Does it?" He continued playing, looking down at her thoughtfully. "It reminds me of you a little."

"I'm not sad."

"But not quite happy."

His perception was unnerving, and Addie couldn't deny it. She would be happy if she weren't afraid for Russell, and if there weren't such animosity between Sunrise and the Double Bar, and if her relationship with Ben wouldn't cause May such distress, and if her worries about her own past could be resolved… well, there was a list of such things to be taken care of.

"No, I'm not completely happy," she admitted. "Are you?"

"Sometimes."

She made a disgruntled face. "It's easier for men to be happy than women."

Ben laughed outright. "I've never heard that before. What makes you think it's easier for us?"

"You can do anything you want to do. And your needs are so simple. A good meal, an occasional night of drinking with the boys, a woman to share your bed, and you're in ecstasy."

"Hold on," he said, his eyes gleaming with wicked amusement as he set the guitar down and turned to face her, his hands coming to rest at her hips. They were surrounded by night music, the sound of the crickets and the rustling of the breeze through the hay. "There are a few points you've neglected."

"Oh? What do you need beyond the things I just mentioned?”

"A family, for one thing."

"Big or small?"

"Big, of course."

"Of course," she echoed wryly. "You wouldn't say that if you were the woman who had to bear the children."

"Probably not," he conceded, and smiled. "But speaking as a man, I like the idea of at least half a dozen."

It was difficult to picture him as a father. He was too well suited to the role of amorous bachelor. "Somehow I can't see you tolerating a house swarming with children, a baby spitting up on your shirt and another tugging at your pants leg."

"I happen to like children."

"Even messy ones?"

"Didn't know there was another kind."

"How do you know you like them?" she demanded.

"I have a niece and nephew, and they-"

"That's only two," she said triumphantly. "Two's a lot dif-ferent than six."

"What are you getting at?"

"I'd just like to point out that you have no idea how much time, attention and worry half a dozen children would take."

"So you don't plan on having six?"

"Not a chance! Two or three's enough."

"Fine with me. As long as one of them's a boy."

"Chauvinist," she grumbled. "You get three chances, and if they're all girls, that's too bad. Having too many children makes a woman old before her time. And besides, I'd be so busy with six I'd never have time for you, and I'd always be too tired to make love, and-"

"You have a point," he said hastily. "Alright, we'll make it three."

"Ben, now that we're talking about our future, there's something I've been wondering about-"

"Later," he said, his breath ruflling the fragile tendrils of hair at the nape of her neck. She jumped as she felt the gentle nip of his teeth.

"But it's important. It's about our marriage, and-"

"Addie, I'm not going to sit here and go through a list." His hands wandered upward, passing her cinched-in waist and hovering underneath her breasts. "Not now. This is the first time I've been alone with you since last night."

A slight ache settled in her breasts, a sensation that demanded the soothing touch of his hands. "I missed you today," he murmured.

She wriggled back and pushed at him. "It's important to talk about this. There are things we should understand about each other. That's what courting is all about. "

Ben sighed, letting go of her and bracing his arms on his bent knees. He sent her a sideways glance filled with sarcasm. "What is it you don't understand that can't wait to be explained later?"

"It's what you don't understand about me."

Suddenly his green eyes were alert. "Go on."

"There are things that I need… this can't be the usual kind of marriage. I'm different from… other women around here. "

"I won't argue with that."

"I'm worried about how- a marriage between two people like us will work. We're both strong-willed, and we each have our own ideas about things."

"I agree. We'll have to make a lot of compro- ' mises. "

"But there are some things I won't-can't-compromise on." She looked up and flushed as she met his eyes. ”I'm sorry I brought this up. I don't really know what I meant to say-"

"I think you do."

"Maybe I shouldn't… it's too soon-"

"What are you planning to ask for? A trip around the world? The biggest ranch in Texas? Shares in the Northern Pacific?"

Addie couldn't help chuckling. “Oh, stop it."

He took hold of her wrists and pulled them around his neck until her hands locked in back. "Tell me," he said, kissing her forehead. "I'm running out of guesses."

"I want you to listen to me in twenty years the same way you do now. As if my opinions matter to you."

"They do. They always will. Anything else?" His lips traveled to her temple, lingering on the pulse he found there.

"Yes. I don't want to turn into a belonging of yours, an attachment like an extra arm or leg, someone who's expected to agree with everything you say. I won't be silent during the dinner conversations at our table." Now that she had started to open up to him, it was much easier to continue. "I need to be respected but not sheltered. I want your honesty, always, about everything, and to be given a chance to show I can do more for you than the cooking, the washing, and the sewing. All of that can be done by any woman. I want to have a place in your life no one else can take, and I don't mean a pedestal."

"I wouldn't try to put you up on one."

"You wouldn't? You wouldn't want me to change after we're married, and do everything you say, and never argue with you?"

"Hell, no. Why would I change the things that attract me to you the most?" He stroked the side of her waist and smiled lazily. "Let other men's wives play mindless fools if it pleases them. I'd rather have a woman who has some common sense. And why should I want you to agree with me all the time? It would bore the hell out of me to be with someone who parroted everything I said. Put your mind at ease, darlin', I'm not marrying you in order to change you. "

She looked at him with amazement. How different he was from the other men she had known. Bernie and his friends had been wild and reckless, the kind you shook your head over in private and wondered if they respected anyone or anything, even themselves. Most of the war veterans she had cared for had been bitter and strangely lost, unable to understand themselves or the world around them. And the men around here were a curious mixture of innocence and chauvinism. Grown-up boys, all of them.

But Ben was not a boy. He was a man at ease with himself, assured of his place in the world, strong and yet sensitive to others' needs. He wasn't innocent by any means, but he wasn't cynical either, possessing a sly sense of humor and a healthy amount of shrewdness. Addie put her hand on his arm, wishing she could tell him how much she appreciated his openmindedness with her. "Most men back in… I mean nowadays… wouldn't want their marriage to be the kind of partnership that I'm suggesting-"

"I won't hand out orders for you to follow. But on the other hand, don't get uppity about it. I'll be damned if anyone but me wears the pants in the family. Understand?"

Addie smiled and bit playfully at his shoulder through his shirt. She did understand. He would be manageable. "You always like to have your own way," she accused.

He bent his head to hers and growled near her ear. "You're getting to know my faults, Miss Adeline."

"I'm trying," she said, turning her mouth to his and offering him a feather-soft kiss. He took it without hesitation, ending it with a smack. "Where on earth did you get such an attitude about women?" she asked when their lips parted. "I'm surprised at how liberal you are. It's because of someone in your past, isn't it. Did you mother teach you to be so open-minded, or was it some other woman?"

He hesitated, his gaze almost predatory as he looked for something in her face. Whatever it was, he didn't seem to find it. "Maybe I'll tell you someday." The combination of his careless tone and piercing eyes made her uneasy.

"You could tell me now if you wanted. You can trust me with anything. Everything."

"Just like you trust me, hmmn?"

Addie's smile faded as she heard the light, jeering lash in his voice. "What do you mean? I do trust you. "

He didn't answer for a second. Then to her relief, he changed with bewildering swiftness, picking up the guitar and strumming in an exaggerated cowboy style that made her laugh. The twangy tune reminded Addie of the western pictures she had seen at the movie house, pictures that had featured slickly handsome cowboys in ten-gallon hats.

"What are you playing? It sounds familiar."

"Something we sing on the trail."

The tune was "My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean." As she recognized it, she fixed him with an accusatory look. "I know that, and it isn't a cowboy song at all."

"Yes it is."

"It's a song for sailors. I even know the words," she said, and demonstrated a line or two in a tuneless voice that made him wince: "'… bring back, bring back my Bonnie to me, to me-' "

"That's the part when we sing 'Roll on little doggies, roll on.'"

"Couldn't you have bothered to make up your own song instead of stealing one?"

"It wasn't stolen, just improved. Texas-style." He was so unrepentant that Addie giggled.

"You're shameless. And you need reforming." She smoothed her palm over his shoulder and glanced in the direction of the main house. "But I guess it'll have to wait. I have to leave, slicker."

The mischief left his eyes, and he put the guitar aside. His hand came to rest at her waist, staying her attempt to get up. She almost jumped at the unexpected tightness of his grip. "Why did you call me that?''

"Slicker? Why, it's just an expression." It had been a casual endearment she'd used for Bernie and some of the veterans at the hospital. "I've said it to you before and you never-"

"Where the hell did you get it from?" There were things about her, odd expressions included, that struck him wrong. He didn't like the inner awareness that she guarded part of herself from him, even now when she was in his arms. Sometimes he could sense the edge of fear in her, but it was impossible to know who or what she was afraid of. Was it him?

"I h-heard it in Virginia," she stuttered, damning herself for being a clumsy liar. "I won't call you that anymore if you don't like it."

"I don't."

She looked at him, confused by the faint sneer that had touched his lips. "I'm sorry," she muttered and made a move to leave. He jerked her back down on the step, his arm hooked around her waist. Their eyes met in an electrically charged glance. Addie was aware of his tension but couldn't understand it. "What's the matter?"

He looked exasperated enough to shake her. Wrapping his hand behind her neck, he forced her head back with a hard kiss. Addie wriggled in protest at his roughness, bracing her arms against him and trying to push him away. His chest was as hard as a brick wall, defeating her efforts to dislodge him. The strong hand gripping the back of her neck rendered her helpless, and Ben tightened his hold on her until she submitted with a small, angry sound. The kiss amounted to nothing more than a contest of physical strength. There was no use in fighting him.

His tongue demanded access to the inside of her mouth, and Addie clenched her hands into fists, her body rigid in his arms. Brutal, arrogant creatures-men thought force was the way to solve every thing and how dare he do this to her after all they had talked about earlier! Long after the hurtful kiss should have ended, he raised his head and glared at her, angry and aroused, and unsatisfied.

"What are you trying to do?" Addie asked coldly, touching her tongue to her puffy lips in cautious exploration. "You… you… " She tried to think of a word Russell would have. used. "… son-of-a-bitch! You hurt me."

He showed not one bit of regret for the pain he'd caused her. "Then we're even."

"The hell we are! What have I said or done to hurt you?"

"It's what you haven't said, Addie. It's what you haven't done." And before she had any time to mull that over, he kissed her again. Bristling, she reached up and tangled her fingers in the hair at the back of his head, pulling hard until he stopped. "Damn you," he muttered, his eyes blazing. "I didn't want to love you. I knew you'd drive me crazy. Try to keep me at a distance. I'll be damned if I'll let you. I'll hammer away until I get inside you, and hang on no matter how hard you try to shake me off."

Heedless of her clutch on his hair, he slammed his mouth on hers, and this time Addie couldn't fight off the heat that raced through her body. She released her grip on his hair, her hands fluttering down to his shoulders. It was impossible to ignore the warmth of his steel-muscled body, the unsteady pounding of his heart. Her arms slid around his neck, and her breasts thrust against his chest. She matched her softness to his roughness, offered freely what he sought to take, met his violence with surrender. Silently her body communicated what she hadn't been able to say out loud.

Yes, I need you… love…yes, I'm yours… As he felt her response, Ben groaned and released the nape of her neck. His arms wrapped tightly around her.

Their bodies burned underneath their clothes, hungry to be free of all that separated them. Ben's violence disappeared, and in its stead grew the sweet ache of desire. Intoxicated with a potent mixture of lust and love, he tried to fill himself with the taste and feel of her. His tongue plunged deep in a frenzy of hunger, and she moaned as she writhed against him.

They sought to be closer, but he encountered the hard ridges of corset stays as he searched for the shape of her. Her skirts were a mass of petticoats and protective layers of cloth. The only thing accessible to him was her mouth, and he devoured her wildly, kissing, kissing. Panting as if he had run for miles, Ben ran a shaking hand over her hair, remembering how it had trailed over his body last night. He was starving for the feel of her naked and unbound beneath him.

The impulse to take down the tight braids pinned to her head was too powerful to resist. Although he knew it would anger her, he found the end of a hairpin with his thumb and forefinger and pulled it out. Immediately Addie gasped and wrenched away from him as a lock of hair fell to her shoulder.

"Give that back to me," she snapped, flustered as she held her hand out for the pin. "What are they going to think if I walk in the front door with my hair falling… Give it back!"

He was tempted to refuse. Let her walk in like this. Let them see her all flushed and disheveled, and everyone would know for certain how things stood between the two of them. But Addie's imperious little hand was shoved further into his face, demanding the return of what he'd stolen, and despite the urgings of the demon riding on his shoulder, he placed the hairpin in her palm. She accepted it without a word of thanks, winding up her hair and fastening it securely in back of her head. Her breath came gustily between her lips, proof of the turmoil he'd caused within her.

"I didn't do anything to provoke that… that display. If you're going to behave like that, then stay away from me until you can find some self-control!" She shot up and went down the two steps to the ground. This time he didn't prevent her, merely watched her with brooding eyes. "You're perfectly capable of being a gentleman when it suits you, and from now on I demand-"

"You want me to be a gentleman? That's a far cry from what you wanted last night. Or is your demand only good up until bedtime?"

"Ohhh!" She was too incensed to answer. Turning on her heel, she left to go back to the house, muttering curses against him and men in general.

Addie groaned softly in her sleep, twisting against the clinging sheet, floating in a netherworld of dreams… or was it memories?… watching herself in familiar scenes. She saw her own face, the same and yet so terribly different. The voice, the body, even the hair…it was all hers, but the shading, the resonation, the texture of the picture was different… twisted…off-key. Why were her eyes so cold? Why was her face so empty?

She and Jeff sat on the porch swing, talking in conspiratorial whispers, touching discreetly, absorbed in each other. The evening sky threw concealing shadows over them, and they sat close to each other, comfortable in the darkness. They had been there for a long time, drawn deeper and deeper into a secretive communion, until they broke past the barrier of forbidden subjects. And they discussed what should never have been planned.

"It's got to be done soon," Adeline whispered. She curled up closer to him, her eyes dark and feline as she concentrated on him. "He's waiting for his lawyer to get here from the East."

"You won't have to do anything. I'll take care of it. I just need a name from you. "

"I'll have to think about it," she said, silently calculating. She would have to pick the right man, someone smart, someone without a conscience.

"Adeline, if you're worried about the rest of your family-"

"We'll all be better off this way." A hard smile curved her lips.

"But about how you're gonna feel after it's done-"

"I won't care. Why should I? If he cared about me, he wouldn't want to change his will. After it's changed, it'll be in trust for years, and I won't get anything till I'm an old woman." Adeline noticed the amazement in his expression, perhaps even a touch of fear at her callousness. She sought to soothe him. "He only cares about Ben Hunter. He doesn't want me to be happy. I never have been. But it'll be different with you, won't it, Jeff?" She stroked her finger down the front of his shirt, hooking it into the waist of his pants. Slowly she rubbed the back of her knuckle against his tightening abdomen. "We'll be happy together," she said, and Jeff sighed hungrily.

"Oh, yes. Yes. Just help me with the name. Someone from here. It's the best way. I'll do the rest."

She looked up at him narrow-eyed, considering, and then she leaned over to him. And whispered in his ear.

Oh, God, what was the name?

What had she told him?

Addie's eyes flew open, and she passed a hand over her damp forehead. She had broken out in a cold sweat. She lay there stiffly, trying not to think, closing her eyes, and feeling her eyelids trembling. For a long time she was still, covered with a chilling film of perspiration.

She knew now. I've betrayed them all. I helped set it up. She had once wanted Russell dead… she had conspired with the Johnsons to have him killed. After he died, she would have her money, and the Johnsons would take over the ranch, take down the fences, break up the family, and tear Russell Warner's legacy to pieces. She had to find a way to undo it. But how? Thoughts plucked at her brain with hot pincers until her head ached. She wanted a drink, a good stiff shot of something that would take the edge off her torment. But did she want it enough to sneak downstairs and get it? Addie couldn't make a decision one way or another, and just lay there waiting for some impulse to take hold of her.

Much later she heard the door open and close softly, but the sound was vaguely unreal. She kept her eyes closed, afraid to find out if it was another dream or not. Quiet footsteps. A movement in the darkness. The rustle of cotton. The slither of jeans. Then all was still except for the abraded sound of her breath. The mattress gave way beneath the weight of a man's body, the sliding of muscled legs along hers, the heat of his flesh as he lowered himself to her. A sob caught in her throat, and Addie lifted her arms, pulling him down to her. Welcoming the plundering of his mouth, she responded frantically to his kiss, needing him, craving him.

The warm fragrance of him surrounded her, and she breathed it in voraciously, tangling her hands in his hair, urging him to kiss her harder. His hands moved over her breasts, teasing her nipples, squeezing until she moaned. Biting her lip, she molded against him, her breasts flattening into his chest.

Ben shuddered and rolled over, taking her with him. Everywhere, everywhere her hair trailed and streamed in long strands of silk, lashing his neck and face and shoulders. Their lips blended in endless kisses, tenderly aggressive. As Ben gently hunted for the deepest taste of her, Addie thought she would die of pleasure.

Drawing her palms down his body, she marveled at the flexing breadth of his shoulders, the lean sides of his waist, the powerful muscles of his thighs. Her fingertips crossed the soft, taut skin of his hips, and she heard the quality of his breathing change, becoming raspy, stopping in that instant when she filled her palm and fingers with the throbbing hardness of him. She stroked him in the ways she remembered from the night before, her touch gentle but firm, and he gasped. His hands plowed into her hair as he held her head to his, capturing her mouth with a fervent kiss.

Clasping her buttocks in his hands, he urged her upward, dragging her along the length of his body. His lips found the peak of her breast and claimed it, drawing her into the recess of his mouth. Each tiny nerve was probed by the fine-grained surface of his tongue. Sliding her arms underneath his neck, she ducked her head and rubbed her cheek against his hair.

His whisper scalded her ears as he took hold of her hips and pulled her up until she was straddling him. "Take me inside you.”

Unfamiliar with taking the lead, she hesitated before helping to guide him home, closing her eyes as he slid into her. The merging of their bodies was a slow drawing-together, a blending of softness and strength, sensitive and precise. Addie braced her hands on his chest, her hair hanging in a silken curtain as she bent her head. His fingers dug into her hips as he moved her back and forth, and his pelvis arched rhythmically up to hers. It was some wild, improbable fantasy, the pleasure so sweet it was almost like pain. Oh, she had heard about the things men and women sometimes dared to do together, but she had never imagined herself loving a man so wantonly.

She was caught in a fire too hot to bear, a storm that beat within and without, until she crumpled from the intensity and held on to Ben with a desperate grip. Her legs were trembling and tired. Sensitive to her every movement and rhythm, he understood immediately. Without a word he turned her over, smothering her whimper with his lips, driving into her again and again, and her body thrilled with an agonizing chord of ecstasy that pierced through every nerve. When it was over she continued to cling to him, aware of his eruption of pleasure.

The descent from such dizzying heights was slow. They relaxed together degree by degree, washed in the scent and taste of each other. Addie lay still as he massaged her back, his fingers pressing the base of her spine and working upward. He whispered as he caressed her, words of intimate praise that made her blush, and the moment was so blissful that she stretched like a contented cat. The darkness was no longer cold, but warm and alive, vibrant with sensations that rippled outward from their sated flesh. There were no nightmares hovering in this darkness, nothing but peace.

Try as she might to get used to it, the contrast between the nights and the days was startling to Addie. It was brought home to her each time she met Ben's eyes, for she couldn't exchange the most casual of greetings with him at breakfast without remembering what the two of them had been doing only a few hours before. As the family left the table and scattered, each one of them concentrating on his or her plans for the day, Addie accompanied Ben out of the house and managed to have a few private words with him.

"Ben, w-wait," she stammered, touching his arm, and he stopped at the bottom of the steps, looking up at her as she stood a step above him. "There's something I have to talk to you about."

"Now?" He'd been wearing a mask all during breakfast, of courtesy so perfect it was almost a mockery, an attitude of endless politeness. Now he was looking at her as he had last night, his smile full of masculine arrogance.

"No, not now," she said, glancing around to see if they were being observed. "And don't look at me like that "

"Like what?"

"As if… you… as if-"

" As if I'd spent the night in your bed?"

"Yes, and you don't have to act so smug about it."

"You do seem to have that effect on me," he said lazily. "It was all I could do to keep my… er.. smugness under control this morning."

"Be quiet," she commanded, wanting to clap her hand over his mouth. "Someone's going to hear you."

She looked anxious and rosy-cheeked this morning, and there were faint smudges under her eyes from lack of sleep. A button near the top of her dress wasn't fastened, as if she'd dressed too hastily. Ben had never seen anything as charming as Addie Warner standing there and trying to scold him discreetly. If there hadn't been so many people around, he would have stepped up to her and kissed her.

"What do you want to talk to me about?" he asked instead. She sighed shortly, picking up her skirts and retreating up the steps. Now was not the time to discuss Russell.

"It can wait."

Hearing the tense note in her voice, Ben followed and stopped her with a touch on her arm. "Addie. Are you all right?"

She lifted her shoulders in an uncertain shrug. Gently he stroked the hollow on the inside of her elbow with his thumb.

"Do you need something, honey?" No one but Ben could ask a simple question in a way that sent a shiver down her spine.

"I need to talk to you privately."

"Tonight after dinner soon enough?… Good. Then give me a smile so I won't worry today. And fasten your top button, darlin'."

That night she would talk to him about Russell and the danger he was in. Knowing Ben's affection for Russell, it wouldn't be difficult to appeal to the more protective side of his nature. Surely she could convince Ben they needed to watch over him more, especially now that the conflicts between Sunrise and the Double Bar were growing in frequency and intensity.

Addie could hardly believe that someone would sneak in the house and kill Russell Warner in his own bed. But it had happened once, and succeeded because it was so unexpected. It couldn't happen again. Addie knew she'd already changed part of the Warner family history. She hadn't disappeared. She'd been here for weeks, a different woman than before, and she'd made choices the former Adeline Warner would never have made. She'd turned against Jeff and fallen in love with Ben. For the first time in her life she was part of a family. She'd found a place where she belonged. Addie would fight to keep all of that, and every last bit of strength she had would be devoted to saving Russell.

Russell was puffed up with pleasure when Ben casually left the table after dinner to accompany Addie on a walk outside. By now it was obvious to everyone that a full-fledged romance was in the making. Russell was even more gratified than Caroline. Of course May still had reservations about the match between her daughter and the ranch foreman, but strangely, she offered no objections when she saw them leaving together. Maybe she was beginning to see that opposing the relationship wouldn't do any good.

"My goodness," Addie breathed as soon as they were outside alone, "this is all going to be so much easier than I'd expected. Mama didn't say a thing. Oh, she looked very frosty, but she didn't say one word."

"Maybe the thought of me as a son-in-law isn't as hard on her as we anticipated," Ben mused, sliding an arm around her back, taking care to match his stride to her much shorter steps.

"Or maybe she thinks you're a temporary fling. You're just the kind I'd choose for that."

Ben feigned a scowl at her careless remark. "Me, a fling? That does it."

Addie laughed breathlessly as he scooped her up and headed toward the pasture in back of the house. "It was a compliment," she protested, giggling and squirming in his arms…

"Oh?" He arched his dark brows as he looked down at her. "It didn't sound like one to me."

"It was, it was. Where are you taking me?"

"To a place where I can take revenge in private."

"I meant what I said. Any woman would want to have a fling with you." She ran the tip of her finger down the part of his throat exposed by the open collar of his shirt, coquettishly tracing a pattern on the well-tanned skin. "You're very handsome. And you look like the kind who's good at… well..”

"Good at what?"

"Stop teasing. You know what I mean. I always wondered what it would be like with you. Even when I didn't like you, I still wondered."

He smiled, shifting her higher in his arms as he walked. "Has your curiosity been satisfied, ma'am?"

"Not yet," she said, fingering the buttons of his shirt. "But I know one thing for certain."

"What is that?"

She looped her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear, "You're every bit as good as you look."

He dropped a kiss on her throat, his eyes flickering, and he stopped walking as they reached a stack of dry, freshly piled alfalfa hay. His original intention had been to drop her in it and kiss her until she begged for mercy. But now all he wanted to do was give her pleasure. Her clasp on him tightened as he lowered her into the sweet-scented hay.

"Oh! No, we can't." She laughed and pushed at his chest. "Not now. Not here-"

"Give me a good reason."

"They're going to know exactly what we've been doing." Her pulse pounded madly as he straddled her 'and pulled up her skirts. "There'll be hay in my hair and on my clothes and-"

"We'll take care of it later. Every speck."

"Impossible." A disbelieving chuckle escaped her.

"You're not really planning to… are you…" Her voice died away as he reached underneath her underwear to the bare skin of her stomach, stroking with the backs of his knuckles. "Ben," she said, and he smiled as he saw how fast her breathing was. Slowly he peeled her drawers down her thighs.

"It's a struggle, isn't it?" he asked, bending over her, his fingers trailing over her abdomen. "Your sense of propriety against your desire for this. .. " His hand slipped down a little further, and she wet her dry lips with her tongue, her toes curling in anticipation.

"I just don't want anyone to s-see-"

"Oh, but that's half the fun." He rested his chin in his hand, watching her as he found the place he had been seeking. His whisper was husky, containing that vibrant note that never failed to fluster her. "It makes you all tight inside, doesn't it, wondering if someone will catch us at the worst possible moment, wondering if someone will see you spread out here with your drawers pulled halfway down to your knees. What would you say? What would you do?"

"I'd d-die of embarrassment," she gasped, trying to wiggle away. He pounced on her, pinning her down and caressing her more boldly than before.

"Yes, you're going to die a little, but it won't be from embarrassment."

"We don't have time-"

"We don't need much."

"It'll be safer later after everyone's asleep-"

"The risk makes it more exciting."

She caught her breath as his fingers splayed through the thatch of springy hair between her thighs, sending a shock of awareness through her.

"No. "

"No? Then tell me to stop," he purred, stroking the inside of her thigh. "Tell me not to touch you, especially not here… or here… and tell me to let you up and take you back inside the house."

Closing her eyes, Addie tried to form the words with her lips, but her body was waiting for the ecstasy only he could give her. She couldn't tell him to stop.

"It adds to the pleasure, doesn't it," came his voice, soft and silky, "that feeling in your stomach-'hurry, do it now before we're caught'-and every second you're wondering if I'm going to stop…"

She protested and tried to rise, then fell back as his fingers found her and began moving ceaselessly. With a long moan she turned her face into his shoulder, silently begging him to not to stop. He seemed to know exactly what her body craved, circling and teasing her sensitive flesh with the pad of his thumb, plunging his fingers deep within her, sometimes fast, sometimes slow. All the while he murmured in her ear, deliberately earthy, saying things that aroused her even more.

"… anyone could see us right now, Addie… someone could walk by… one of the hands on the way to the bunkhouse… what if you knew someone was watching? Would you tell me to stop then?" His stroking paused, as if his continuing depended on her answer.

"No," she groaned, lifting her hips, pressing his hand harder against her dampening flesh, and he resumed the excruciating torment.

"They're going to know what we're doing anyway," he whispered relentlessly. "I'm going to make you scream; and they'll all hear you."

"I won't," she choked, and his smile was merciless.

"You're afraid you will."

"No!"

And finally the pleasure was so intense that she did cry out, but he smothered the sound with his mouth, and in the aftershocks his tongue caught the throaty vibrations of her groaning. He kissed her for a long time, savoring her languid response. When she had recovered, she pulled free of his hands and mouth. Mortified by what had happened, she sat up and fumbled to rearrange her clothing. Ben helped her, suppressing a smile as he saw how worried she was.

"H-how long have we been out here?" she asked, not looking at him.

"About ten minutes."

"Oh." Addie's distress lessened. It had seemed much longer to her. But she continued to frown, brushing helplessly at the wisps. of hay clinging to her dress until Ben lifted her chin with his fingers and smiled down at her.

"No one heard anything," he said flatly. "Or saw. I kept an eye open, just in case."

Addie blushed. "Then what you said…”

"All for your benefit. "

She was too relieved by his answer to scold him for his arrogance. "I wasn't loud?" she asked, and he pulled her close, bewitched by her curious mixture of modesty and abandon.

"I kept you very quiet," he whispered conspire-atorially, and her shoulders sagged.

"I should be mad at you."

"For what? Didn't it feel good?"

"I… Yes, it felt… But that's not the point."

"Forgive my lack of understanding, but what is the point?" Though he sounded grave, she knew he was laughing at her silently.

"It was different from before. It wasn't romantic, or serious, or-"

"It doesn't always have to be serious between us."

His lips wandered across her cheek. "Sometimes it can just be fun."

"But that's not how I think of it," she said, her brow wrinkling. Fun? Lovemaking between two people who cared for each other wasn't supposed to be fun. It was supposed to be tender, loving, emotional. If they loved each other, it should mean something more than fun, shouldn't it?

"How can you think of it just one way?" Ben countered. "It's going to be different all the time. Sometimes it'll be romantic… gentle… and sometimes a little…' He paused and searched for a tactful word."… earthier. Some-times we'll be tender. And sometimes we'll play. What's wrong with that?"

As he saw she still was uncertain, he cradled her face in his hands and smiled down at her. "I understand. You like candlelight and romance, and God knows there's nothing wrong with that. But you'd get tired of that if you had it all the time." He grinned and pulled a few wisps of hay out of her hair. "You have to admit, moonlit nights and haystacks have their own particular charm."

"I guess they do."

"You guess?" His eyes twinkled. "What would it take to make you absolutely sure?"

Addie stared at him, relishing the warmth of his hands on her cheeks, the sheen of moonlight on his hair. He looked handsome and pagan in the darkness, mysterious and untamable. Her lover. Someday her husband. She wanted a lifetime with him. She wanted to hold him to her with every bond and word, every intimacy that two people could exchange. Her feelings for him were stronger, more terrifying than she had ever imagined they could be. Her hands came up to cover the backs of his, clasping tightly.

"I love you, Ben."

She felt the tremor in his hands. It took a moment for him to understand. Then his eyes traveled over her face, as if he were trying to assure himself she had spoken the truth.

"God, I've wanted you to say that." He lowered his head and kissed her roughly, unable to restrain his passion.