Long fingers pressed between her thighs as he encircled one leg and began kneading slowly, deeply, unraveling her even more. When his hands slid up beneath the blanket, Jessica stirred. Wolfe hesitated, waiting for an objection. None came. He let out a silent breath and slowly moved his hands even higher. The delicious pressure made Jessica sigh and stretch again.

aWhy have you never done this to me before?a she murmured.

aI was just wondering the same thing.a His palms slid higher. She sighed and shifted languidly.

aIam all unraveled. aTis quite wonderful.a aYes,a Wolfe said huskily.

Closing his eyes, he savored the sleek resilience of Jessicaas flesh, the warm shifting of her body, the languid sighs. He knew he must stop touching her soon, for the hunger of his own body was becoming unmanageable.

Yet the soft temptations of her flesh were so close to hand, so hot, that he couldnat force himself to withdraw right away. She was a heady fragrance and a hard need that was eroding his control as surely as he was unraveling her fear of a manas touch. The blanket retreated before his gently insistent hands, leaving her secrets defended only by the mahogany cloud he longed to brush with his palm.

Then Jessica shifted again and the cloud parted, and a low sound of need was dragged from Wolfe. His hand moved, brushed, lingered, burned. Then his fingers were seeking and finding and testing the softness that had been revealed.

The intimate caress sent Jessica bolt upright with a gasp of mingled pleasure and shock. When she saw Wolfeas hand between her legs, pleasure fled and shock became fear fed by a torrent of brutal memories. In her mind a stormy night descended and her mother screamed from the hallway floor as the lord ruthlessly pulled her legs apart.

aNo!a Jessica cried.

aEasy, little one,a Wolfe said thickly. aI wonat hurt you. Itas a natural part ofa"a His words were lost beneath the raw scream that tore from Jessicaas throat. She moved convulsively to defend herself, but her arms were too weak to push away a child, much less a man of Wolfeas strength. She drew breath to scream again, only to have a hard hand clamp over her mouth, forcing her back down upon the bed.

It was her nightmare all over again, a womanas screams cut off by the brute force of a husband intent upon rutting between his wifeas legs. Jessica tossed and thrashed from side to side, but couldnat shake off the hand over her mouth or the heavy thigh pinning her own legs to the bed. Shuddering, wild with fear, she flailed against Wolfe with weak arms until he gathered her wrists in one hand and held them against her naked stomach.

aJessi, listen to me, I wonat hurt you.a If she heard, she didnat respond.

As Wolfe looked down at Jessicaas struggling body, he felt a volatile combination of frank l.u.s.t, shame at his loss of control, and anger at her wild fear.

aBe still, d.a.m.n it,a Wolfe said curtly. aI wonat touch you. Do you understand me? Jessica!a Wolfe had to repeat himself several times before Jessica subsided and lay still but for the involuntary tremors that shook her body, residue of her terror.

aIam going to lift my hand from your mouth, but if you scream again, so help me G.o.d Iall slap you into sanity as I would any hysteric.a Jessica watched Wolfe with pale, glittering eyes. There was no comfort in his facea"his eyes were black, his face dark and grim, his mouth a flat line. Even so, she nodded her head, for his hand was no longer invading her body. Slowly, Wolfe freed her mouth.

Jessica didnat scream, even though she was pale and trembling. When she spoke, her voice was like breaking gla.s.s and her breath was coming in bursts. Despite that, her words were all too clear.

aNo wonder you were called the viscountas salvage. Gentlemen who canat control their baser urges make use of wh.o.r.es, not wives. If I had thought you would ever do anything so vile to me, I would never have sought a marriage. You have no need of an heir to inherit a t.i.tle or a great estate, no reason to so foul my body, yet you would rut upon me like a beast!a Wolfe looked down into Jessicaas face and felt her contempt beating at him with thick, invisible wings. Silence stretched and stretched until it was a living thing quivering between Jessica and Wolfe.

aWhat do you expect?a Wolfe snarled. aEver since we got on the stagecoach together Iave been breathing your air and watching you look at me when you think I wonat notice.a Jessica didnat deny it, for it was true. She had always watched Wolfe. He fascinated her. And the older she became, the more the fascination had deepened.

Wolfe continued speaking, his voice harsh with frustration and anger. aYou keep watching me with hungry eyes and wondering how it would be to couple with a savage, but when Ia"a aNever!a Jessica interrupted wildly. aNever! I never thought of coupling with you. The thought horrifies me!a Wolfeas eyes narrowed until they were little more than splinters of black. aThen you will agree to an annulment.a The words were so soft, Jessica didnat understand them at first. When she did, she closed her eyes and sought to control the fear clawing at her.

aNo,a Jessica said, her voice shaking. aYou may be a savage, but you wonat take me by force.a Deliberately, Wolfeas hand settled on the mahogany nest just above her thighs.

aWonat I?a he asked softly.

She stiffened as though he had taken a whip to her. When her eyes opened, they were so dilated with fear that there was barely any color to them. She tried to lift her hands in a silent plea, but her arms wouldnat respond. She tried to speak, but all that came from her lips was a hoa.r.s.e whisper that could have been Wolfeas name.

With a barely controlled fury at himself, at her, and at the sham marriage, Wolfe surged to his feet beside the bed.

aGet out,a he said flatly.

Jessica looked up at Wolfe without comprehension.

aGet out of my bed, your ladyship. You disgust me as much as I horrify you. I couldnat take you if I had to. Youare not a woman, youare a spoiled, cruel child.a Jessica moved too slowly to suit Wolfe. He bent over and hauled her to her feet.

aAgree to an annulment,a he demanded in a low voice. ad.a.m.n you, let me go!a She swallowed dryly and shook her head.

Wolfe looked at Jessica for a long moment before he spoke in a soft, cold voice that was more punishing than a blow.

aYou will rue the day you forced me into marriage. There are worse things than being caressed by a savage. You shall learn each one of them.a

7.

W ITH an apprehension Jessica didnat reveal, she watched from the corner of her eye as Wolfe took a sip of the coffee she had prepared. When he did little more than grimace at the taste, she let out a soundless sigh of relief and pa.s.sed him a dish of stewed fruit and a platter of ham and biscuits.

Covertly, Jessica watched while Wolfe forked ham onto his plate, ignored the biscuits, and spooned stewed fruit into his bowl. She hoped he would be less fierce after he had eaten. Perhaps then he would listen to her explanations. Perhaps then he would look at her with less contempt.

Silently, Wolfe ate, sensing Jessicaas watchfulness. He said nothing to her. Nor did he look at her. It was safer that way. The rage in him was still very close to the surface. Awakening in a state of arousal that had increased at the mere sight of Jessica had done nothing to sweeten Wolfeas temper.

aMore ham?a she asked in a soft voice.

aNo, thank you.a Jessica took little comfort in Wolfeas politeness, for she knew it was as automatic to him as breathing and meant far less. In England his manners were as impeccable as a dukeas. More so, for Wolfe had no tradition of wealth and power to mitigate any social gaffe he might make. When among the English, he never forgot for one instant that he was an outsider. He had made of their customs both an armor and a subtle insult. The viscountas savage always proved better at elegant nuance than those who had been to the manor born, making them seem savages by comparison.

aWolfe,a Jessica said, alast night I was tired and frightened anda"a He interrupted curtly. aYou made yourself clear last night, your ladyship. My touch horrifies you.a aNo, thatas not what I meant.a aThe h.e.l.l it isnat. Itas what you said.a aPlease, listen to me,a she said urgently.

aIave heard all Ia"a aIave never been naked with a man,a she interrupted, her voice rising. aIave never touched a naked man or been touched by one and I saw how much you wanted me and I forgot you wouldnat hurt me and Ia"a Jessicaas voice broke. aI was frightened. I felt cornered and I justajust panicked. Please donat be so angry with me. Ia"Wolfe, I liked touching you and being touched. Thatas why I was afraid.a aChrist,a Wolfe muttered in disgust, shoving back from the breakfast table. aYou liked it so you panicked? Come, your ladyship. Youave had hours of pacing in which to concoct pretty excuses and thatas the best you can do? I heard the truth from you last night and we both know it.a aNo,a she said urgently, athatas nota"a aEnough!a Jessica opened her mouth to argue, but a look at Wolfeas icy indigo eyes made the words die in her throat. There was no indulgence in Wolfe now. Nor was there the least sign of the desire that had burned so clearly in him last night. He was looking at her like she was a stranger newly come to his homea"a very unwelcome stranger.

She lowered her eyes, not wanting him to see the unhappiness and fear in her. It would take time and much work to win him back to even the uncertain companionship they had shared during the long trip to his home. It would take a miracle to regain the friendship they had known before marriage.

aAfter you clean the dishes,a Wolfe said curtly, alet the fire go out. Weare leaving.a aWeare going back to England?a Jessica asked.

aNo, your ladyship. If I never see England again, Iall die a happy man.a aI didnat realize you hated it so.a aThereas a lot about me you donat know.a aI will learn.a aA woman never truly knows a man until they are lovers.a aThen I shall have to speak to your d.u.c.h.ess,a Jessica retorted before she could think better of it. aNo doubt sheall be a font of wisdom.a Wolfeas smile made his face look harder than ever. aYou have missed the point, your ladyship.a aWhich is?a aWhile the basics of the s.e.xual act remain much the same no matter who performs it, the variations are still infinite. No man is the same with every woman. No woman responds equally to every man. In those differences is found much that illuminates the human experience, as well as the true measure of love.a aThatas rather a lot to expect from rutting.a aSpoken like a true nun, Sister Jessica.a aIam not a nun.a aYouare more nun than wife.a aThereas more to being husband and wife than the marriage bed,a Jessica said with subdued desperation.

aNot for a man.a Jessica pushed back from the table without having eaten more than a bite. aIam sorry our marriage is such a disappointment to you.a aYouare not as sorry as I am, and Iam not as sorry as youare going to be.a Wolfe threw his napkin on the table. aThere are two leather valises beneath my bed. Use them for your clothes. We leave in two hours.a aIt would help me to pack if I knew where we were going, and for how long.a aWeare going over the Great Divide.a Jessicaas eyes showed her surprise and relief. aTruly? Are we going hunting?a aNo,a Wolfe said impatiently.

aThen why are we going?a aTo check on the horses I left with Caleb and Willow, especially the steeldust mare. And to eat real biscuits. Willow makes the best biscuits this side of Heaven.a Jessica tried to conceal her dismay at the thought of being close to the woman Wolfe loved, the paragon who could do no wrong.

And Jessica could do no right.

aFor how long?a she asked tightly.

aUntil you learn to make good biscuits or agree to an annulment. On the whole, my money is on the annulment.a The back door banged as Wolfe strode out to the stable. Jessica waited until he disappeared before she turned and eyed the dishes with distaste.

Half an hour later, Jessica heaved the dirty dish-water off the back step, heard metal hit a rock, and saw a spoon lying on the ground. Sighing, she walked beyond the house and retrieved the spoon that she had somehow overlooked in the bottom of the dishpan.

As Jessica straightened from picking up the spoon, she heard the trill of a hidden bird and noticed that the willows around the spring held a green promise of summeras leaves at the tips of their branches. Sunlight poured in rich, slanting fans between fluffy clouds that were so white it made her eyes water to look at them. The yellow warmth of the light was a balm and a benediction.

She tugged off the linen towel she had used as a headdress and shook out the clean coils of her hair. The untamned glory of the Western day poured down around her, lifting her heart.

Within the shadow of the small stable, Wolfe stood frozen in the instant when Jessica had shaken down a cloud of hair that burned beneath the unbridled sun. When she lifted her hands and spread them as though to catch sunlight itself, Wolfe felt a combination of hunger and tenderness that shocked him.

Motionless, barely able to breathe, Tree That Stands Alone watched while Jessica pirouetted slowly, curtsied, then held out her arms as though to a dance partner. As she glided, dipped, and turned with the grace of flame, Straussa latest waltz melody floated above the wild land, sung by a resilient elf whose beauty and cruel words were a knife turning in Wolfeas heart.

No wonder you were called the viscountas savage. You are unspeakable. If I had thought you would ever do anything so vile to me, I would never have sought a marriage.

Bitterly, Wolfe turned away from the sundrenched vision of an elf dancing; but there was nowhere he could turn away from the words echoing in his mind, cutting him in ways he couldnat comprehend, only feel. Working by habit alone, he prepared for the trip ahead. It was too soon to risk the pa.s.ses, but it was safer than staying trapped in his own house with Jessica burning like a flame locked within ice, forever beckoning, forever beyond his reach.

What am I complaining about? Wolfe asked himself ruthlessly. If she offered herself, I wouldnat take her.

Wouldnat you? countered another part of himself.

Not on a golden platter with an apple in her mouth.

How about in bed with her softness parting for you like the petals of a rose?

No.

Like h.e.l.l.

h.e.l.l is an apt description of what my life would be like afterward. No matter how hot Jessica makes my body, she isnat the wife I need.

The sardonic catechism ringing in Wolfeas mind wasnat new, but it had the desired effect. By the time he walked through the sunlight back to the house, no trace showed of the unruly desire and painful yearning that had twisted through him. His face was impa.s.sive as he went to the bedroom and found Jessica standing amid a tumult of satins and silks.

The valises were open on the bed. One was full of books, a spygla.s.s, small boxes of fishing lures, the segments of her split bamboo fly rod, a packet of embroidery needles and floss, and other items. Curious, Wolfe began lifting the books one after another.

aColeridge, Burns, Blake, Donne, Shakespeareaa Wolfe set the heavy volume aside. aLeave this here. Willow has the Bardas complete works.a aI should have guessed a paragon would.a aLeave the good clergyman behind, as well.a aJohn Donne?a Jessica lifted dark mahogany eyebrows. aThe paragon is well read.a aThe paragonas husband, in this case. When you meet Cal, youall understand. He is a dark angel of retribution. Messrs. Donne and Milton suit him quite well.a aThen atis fortunate Caleb married the paradigm of paragons,a Jessica said dryly. aWhat of the rest?a aThe poets?a aYes.a Wolfe shrugged. aBring them, if you must.a aI thought you liked poetry.a aI do. I happen to have a good memory.a Wolfe touched the volumes with gentle fingertips. aI can visit caverns measureless to man whenever I turn my mind to it. I can see the tigeras fearful symmetry burning in the forest of the night whenever I like. And I can do it without giving my packhorse galls.a Jessica smiled almost shyly at Wolfe. aIf youall recite my favorite poems to me over the campfire, Iall leave the books behind.a He flashed her a black, sideways glance and saw the memories of other campfires in her aquamarine eyes, of the happy times when he and she had laughed together and traded lines of poetry while Indian guides and hunters alike crowded around, held by the rhythms and visions of men long dead.

aIf you want poetry, youad better take the books,a Wolfe said, turning away. aMy days of reciting verse are over.a Jessicaas smile faded. She turned back to packing. When she hesitated between two riding outfits, Wolfe took the heavier one and put it in the valise.

aYouall need your warmest underwear,a he said. aThe high country will be cold.a aI looked for the trail clothes I left here years ago, but couldnat find them.a aI gave them to Willow last summer.a Jessicaas mouth flattened. aGenerous of you.a aI gave her the boyas saddle you used, too. Riding astride in buckskins is fine for a Western woman or a headstrong Scots child, but youare neither. Youare the Lady Jessica Charteris, daughter of an earl. You will ride sidesaddle as befits your exalted station.a aIam Jessica Lonetree.a aThen youall ride as your husband thinks best.a aSidesaddle? Through those vast mountains Iave heard so much about?a she asked, flinging an arm out to the west, where the Rockies thrust steeply into the sky.

aExactly.a aThatas unreasonable.a aSo is our marriage.a aWolfe,a she began softly.

aSay the word, lady Jessica. It has only three syllables. Say it.a He waited for her to say annulment.

There was a pause before she said distinctly, aSidesaddle.a aWhat?a aSidesaddle. Three syllables, I believe?a Quickly, Wolfe turned away before Jessica could see the reluctant flash of humor in his eyes. He sorted through the piles of finery with ruthless hands, trying not to notice the gossamer pantelets and camisoles, trying not to remember how Jessica had looked with her ruined peignoir torn away from her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, revealing the marks of a manas brutality on her luminous skin.

Odd that I didnat hear Jessica screaming down the house that night, Wolfe told himself sardonically. But then, it was a b.l.o.o.d.y lordas teeth raking her rather than a halfbreed b.a.s.t.a.r.das hand discovering how soft she was. All the difference in the world.

With a vicious word, Wolfe threw the undergarments into the valise. Another riding outfit followed. Jessica added woolen stockings. The valise was full to overflowing.

aYouad better throw some stuff out of the other valise,a Wolfe said, fastening straps. aYou have only two changes of clothing.a aExcellent. There will be that much less to wash.a Wolfe smiled fleetingly, knowing Jessica couldnat see his face. When he looked up from the valise, no trace of the smile remained on his face. His elfin enemy was entirely too good at finding c.h.i.n.ks in the armor of his anger.

aIam serious about the clothes,a he said, gesturing to the mounds of fine wool and silk dresses and dainty satin shoes that lay at the foot of the bed. aWouldnat you rather have these along than a fishing rod and books?a aMy silk dresses donat know a single poem, and I doubt that I could catch even one of the fabled Rocky Mountain rainbow trout by casting a shoe at it.a At first, Wolfe thought Jessica was teasing him again. Then he realized she meant it. She would rather take her poetry and fishing gear than one of her elegant outfits. It was the kind of choice the old Jessi would have made, but not one Wolfe had expected from the aristocratic creature who had been so perfectly coiffed and perfumed for her twentieth birthday ball.

aChange into your riding clothes while I see to the rest of the preparations,a Wolfe said.

He turned away, paused, then came back and jerked the fur cover from beneath the heaped dresses. When he looked up, Jessica was watching him with curious, wary eyes.

aWe might have to sleep in snow,a Wolfe said curtly. aIf you put this inside your sleeping bag, you should stay warm enough.a Jessica blinked, surprised by Wolfeas thoughtfulness when he was so obviously out of sorts with her. aThank you.a aYou need not look so shocked, your ladyship. I want an annulment, not a funeral.a She stared at Wolfeas broad, retreating back and let out a long breath she hadnat even been aware of holding. Frowning, she reached around behind her back to undo the infuriating b.u.t.tons. There were less of them than on her travel dress, yet the fastenings were still too many and too inconveniently placed for a woman dressing alone. She thought of calling upon Wolfe for help, but discarded the idea instantly. Though she knew little about men and l.u.s.t, she had gathered that the less clothes a woman had on, the hotter a manas blood ran and the more angry he became if rutting was denied him.

Memories of the past night raced through Jessica, making her tremble with more than fear. The pleasure Wolfe had given her was unique, exquisite. If rutting gave him a similar pleasure, it was no wonder he was so angry at being denied. Living with him, forcing him to breathe the very air she breathed, was unfair. She hadnat known that before, but she knew it now.

We canat spend a lifetime like this.

Then Jessica thought of what the alternative was if she agreed to an annulment and returned to England and Lady Victoriaas well-meant, relentless attempts to marry off her ward to whatever minor lord was old enough, wealthy enough, and eager enough for children to overlook Jessicaas common Scots mother.

The thought of enduring such a marriage brought to Jessica a chill determination to be free that no amount of reason or coercion would change. Wolfe may have preferred an annulment to a funeral, but Jessica did not.

There were worse things than death. She was as certain of that as she was of her own heartbeat. She visited those things in her sleep, where forbidden memories and horrible nightmares intertwined, and the inhuman voice of the wind promised her h.e.l.l on earth.

With a small sound, Jessica put her face in her hands. aDear G.o.d,a she whispered, alet Wolfe relent, for I cannot.a

8.

U NCERTAINLY, Jessica stood in front of one of the mercantileas many counters. She was accustomed to having bolts of cloth and seamstresses brought to Lord Stewartas home, or perhaps she would visit an especially popular dress designer in her shop. The idea of buying clothes already made both intrigued Jessica for its speedy practicality and baffled her as to how to go about it.

aMrs. Lonetree? Is that you?a The deep, gentle drawl told Jessica who the man was before she turned around. Her eyes sparkled with pleasure at the sight of the big blond man with his hat in his hands and a smile on his face.

aRafe! What a wonderful surprise. What are you doing in Canyon City? Is your arm all right?a He flexed his left shoulder. aItas a bit stiff and itches like the very devil, but otherwise everything is fine. Iave never healed so fast. Must have been your hands and the fancy silk bandage.a aAnd soap.a aAnd soap,a Rafe agreed with a wink.

aWhat are you doing in Canyon City?a Jessica asked again without thinking. Then she remembered. aOh dear, Iam sorry. That was rude of me. Itas the one thing Betsy didnat tell me about the United States.a Rafeas sun-bleached eyebrows lifted. aBetsy?a aMy American maid. At least she was, until we got to the Mississippi. She taught me many of your customs, but not the most important Western one.a aMaybe youad better tell me about that one. Iam new to the West.a Jessica gave a sigh of relief. aOh, good, then I didnat insult you by asking you why youare here. Wolfe was quite clear about that. One never asks a Western man for a full name, an occupation, or a reason for coming or going as he pleases.a aAustralia is like that, too,a Rafe said, smiling, aso is a lot of South America.a aEngland isnat, except for certain people, of course.a aCriminals?a he asked blandly.

aOh, dear, I did insult you.a Rafeas laughter was instant and unrestrained. aNo, maaam, but youare a delight to tease.a If another man had said it, Jessica would have withdrawn with the cool hauteur that had been taught her by Lady Victoria. It was impossible to do that with Rafe, however, and unnecessary as well. His eyes were admiring without being in the least impolite.

aI donat mind talking about what Iam doing here,a Rafe said. aI was waiting for the pa.s.s to open again. I got here just before the last storm closed it.a aThen youave been here long enough to see the town. Wolfe said we wouldnat be staying long.a aSmart man, your husband. Too many drifters are holed up here, gambling and waiting for the pa.s.ses to open.a aIf what Wolfe says is true, they wonat have long to wait.a aFolks tell me Wolfe Lonetree knows the mountains between here and the San Juan country like the back of his hand,a Rafe said.

aIt wouldnat surprise me. Wolfe has always loved wild places. From what Iave heard, the mountains out there are about as wild as anything on earth.a For a moment Rafe looked through the mercantileas dusty windows, but it was other mountains he saw, other wild places. Then his gray eyes focused and he turned back to the delicate girl whose light blue eyes held more shadows that they should.

aAre you here for supplies?a Rafe asked.

aAfter a fashion. Wolfe is buying something he calls aMontana horses.a Theyare large, I gather. Big enough to stand up to the snow drifts we might find in the pa.s.ses.a Rafeas gray eyes widened, then narrowed with concern. aWhat lies west of here has the look of hard country, Mrs. Lonetree. Too hard for a girl like you.a aHave you ever been to Scotland?a Jessica asked rather grimly.

He shook his head.

aGo there sometime in the winter,a she said, awhen the gale winds scream down from the Arctic Circle. Then youall see waves higher than a mounted man break against black rock cliffs that are wrapped in ice. Thatas when sheep with wool thicker than your arm freeze upright in the lee of solid stone fences. Men freeze much more quickly.a aYou were born there,a Rafe said, for there was no mistaking the dark memories drawing Jessicaas face taut.