"Says who?"

"Mrs. Livingston," she answered. "It was in her journal."

"I should have guessed."

"And while we're on the subject of what is considered proper and what isn't, I would like to point out that the majority of men, married and single, never, ever curse in front of a woman. It's considered bad form, Mr. Ross, and very disrespectful."

"Is that so?"

She was beginning to hate that expression. "Yes, it is so."

He opened the door for her, but just as she started to go inside, he grabbed hold of her shoulders and turned her around.

His head was bent toward her. "Let me get this straight. When you call me Mr. Ross, you're actually being respectful and not trying to infuriate me? Is that right?"

She nodded. He smiled. He didn't let go of her. For a man in a hurry, he was suddenly acting as though he had all the time in the world. Taylor really wished she could stop herself from staring at him. Was it her imagination or had his skin become even more bronzed in the last twenty-four hours? She wondered if he had any idea how handsome he was.

"I'll probably be late."

His right hand moved to the side of her neck. His fingers brushed the strand of hair back behind her ear.

A shiver passed down her arms. She had to force herself not to lean into his hand. She couldn't stop staring into his eyes.

He was staring at her mouth. "Don't wait up for me."

"I'll probably spend the evening in Victoria's room," she said. It was a lie, of course, but since she wasn't certain how long it would take to reach Mrs. Bartlesmith's residence or how long she would spend getting acquainted with her nieces, she decided to play it safe. She didn't want Lucas looking for her.

"Victoria has quite a few things she wants to discuss," she said. "I could be there until midnight, maybe even later."

He barely paid attention to what she was saying. He wanted to kiss her. He was patiently waiting for her to finish talking so he could.

She took a breath and he leaned down. The thought that he might kiss her had only just registered in her mind when she leaned into him and tilted her head back. His mouth was just an inch away.

A door slammed somewhere down the corridor. A man's laughter sounded in the next instant. Then a woman's. The spell Lucas Ross had cast upon her lifted, and she suddenly realized where she was and what she was doing. She was immediately horrified by her unladylike behavior.

She acted as though she'd just been caught stealing. She literally pushed herself away from him, bumped into the wall behind her, then turned and hurried inside. She called good-bye over her shoulder and swung the door shut.

Lucas couldn't believe what had just happened. Damned if she hadn't just slammed the door in his face.

And what in thunder caused her to blush?

"Women," he muttered to himself. Most didn't make a lick of sense. He shook his head and started down the hallway. He stopped when he reached the steps.

Taylor had just collapsed in one of the chairs and let out a loud sigh when a knock sounded at the door.

She assumed it was Victoria. She stood up, straightened her skirt, and then hurried across the room. She forced a smile so her friend wouldn't know she was in such an irritable mood and all because she hadn't been kissed and then opened the door.

Lucas filled up the entrance. He was leaning against the door frame, one foot crossed over the other, with his arms folded across his chest, as though he'd been lounging there a long, long time. He was frowning intently.

"Did you forget something, Mr. Ross?"

"Yeah," he drawled. Then he moved. It happened so quickly, she didn't even have time to gasp. He reached out, grabbed hold of the back of her neck with his right hand, and hauled her up against him. His fingers threaded through her hair, the pins holding it up flying every which way. The heavy mass of curls cascaded down her back, covering his arm. His fingers gently pressed against her scalp. He lowered his face until his mouth was directly above hers.

"I forgot to kiss you."

"Oh."

She whispered the word into his opened mouth. It sounded like a groan. His mouth settled on top of hers with blatant ownership, effectively sealing off any other sound she might have made. He kissed her ravenously. Taylor grabbed hold of his jacket so she wouldn't fall down. And when his tongue swept inside her mouth and rubbed so erotically against hers, she felt as though she were dissolving in his arms.

Her knees went weak and her heart started pounding a wild beat. She felt hot and yet was shivering at the same time. Her arms found their way around his waist. She held onto Lucas and let him sweep her off her feet. She didn't even try to control her own passionate response. She wouldn't let him stop. She wanted another hot, opened-mouth, tongue-dueling kiss, and Lucas, shaken by her uninhibited reaction to his touch, didn't deny her. They were both just as hungry for each other. She made it impossible for him to hold back. His mouth slanted over hers again and again, and each time the kiss was longer, more sinfully erotic. He was hard and hot. And still he wanted more. His hands moved down her spine, rubbing, caressing. He cupped her sweet backside and lifted her up on her tiptoes until they were intimately rubbing against each other. She instinctively cuddled his arousal between her hips. She moved restlessly against him.

She was making him burn with desire. He knew he had to stop. He'd take her in the corridor if he didn't find a little discipline to pull away from her. God, she was good. He was fast losing all control, and damn but she felt right pressed up against him. She was all soft and feminine, and Lord above, could she kiss.

He was abrupt in his departure. He jerked back, then began to peel her hands off him. He knew he had to put some distance between them with all possible haste, but he made the mistake of looking at her, and when he saw the passion in her eyes, he almost lost the battle. Her lips were rosy and swollen from his none too gentle attack, and all he could think about was tasting her one more time.

Lucas clinched his jaw in frustration. She had the most bemused expression on her face. He found himself arrogantly pleased. She'd obviously been just as affected by their kisses as he'd been. He would have told her to move back so he could pull the door closed when he left, but he didn't think she'd move quick enough to suit him... or save her virginity.

She couldn't possibly know how close he was to carrying her to their bed and making love to her.

Taylor was simply too naive and inexperienced to understand her own jeopardy. He understood all right.

He was hard and throbbing and aching, and damn it all, if she didn't quit looking at him with those beautiful blue eyes, he knew exactly what was going to happen.

He had to get the hell away from her. With that single thought in mind, he grabbed hold of her shoulders, forced her to move back, then turned around, took hold of the doorknob, and pulled it shut behind him.

She was left staring at the door. "Oh, my," she whispered. She "suddenly needed to sit down. She needed a fan, too. It had gotten warm all of a sudden.

Taylor started to cross the room to get to the nearest chair so she could collapse properly when another knock sounded at the door.

Lord, she wasn't up to another round of kissing. Yet she found she was running to the door to answer the summons.

Victoria was standing in the corridor. Taylor could barely hide her disappointment. She invited her friend in, then ushered her over to the seating arrangement in front of the windows.

"Are you feeling ill, Taylor?" she asked. Her voice was filled with concern.

"I'm fine, really. Why do you ask?"

"You look all flushed."

No wonder, Taylor thought. In an effort to keep Victoria from asking embarrassing questions, she changed the subject. "We can't shop this afternoon," she announced. "Mr. Sherman wishes to meet with you in the lobby downstairs at four o'clock. You have to sign some papers, Victoria."

"Why?"

"I told you I was opening an account in your name. He'll need your signature so you can withdraw funds, of course."

Victoria nodded. "I would thank you again. Your generosity is... overwhelming."

Taylor accepted the compliment with a nod, then told her about her plans for the afternoon. "I'm going to write down instructions I wish you to give Mr. Sherman, then I'm going to go see my nieces. I had planned to see them yesterday, but Mr. Ross didn't leave for his appointment until after eight. He would have wanted to know where I was going if I left before he did, and once he'd gone along to meet his friend, it was too late. The little ones were surely already in bed for the night. I can't wait to hold them again. It's better that we go shopping after I've seen them so that I'll have measured their sizes for the amount of cloth I'll need to buy. They're going to need plenty of heavy winter clothes," she added.

"But it isn't even spring yet," Victoria protested.

"We must think ahead," Taylor advised. "We won't be able to get everything we'd like living in the wilderness, and so we must go as prepared as possible. I believe you should start your list as well."

Victoria agreed with a nod. "Your enthusiasm is contagious. Redemption means a brand-new start for me and my baby. I, too, feel I'll be very safe there. What a contradiction that is. There will be wild animals, harsh weather, hostile Indians, and heaven only knows what else, and honestly, Taylor, I cannot wait to get started. I believe I'll go back to my room and start my list immediately after luncheon. Will you go up to the Ladies Ordinary with me? I could use a biscuit to settle my stomach. I seem to have become afflicted with morning sickness in the middle of the day."

Taylor was happy to accompany her friend. They spent another hour together, and as soon as they finished eating, Taylor told her about the route they would take to reach their destination. Victoria was surprised to learn they would go most of the way by riverboat up the Missouri.

"We must remember to purchase maps when we go shopping," Taylor suggested.

"Will you explain something, please? Does your great-uncle Andrew... He is your grandmother's younger brother, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"Does he know you intend to raise the babies as your own?"

Taylor shrugged her shoulders. "I'm not certain if he knows or not. Uncle sometimes forgets things."

"He would forget his great-nieces?"

"Perhaps."

"Did he read all the dime novels you read about the wilderness?"

Taylor smiled. "Oh, yes, he was almost as taken as I was by all the stories about the wild, savage land.

We used to argue about living there. I told him I would someday, and he said he didn't know if I had enough gumption."

"And that is why he built the soddie?"

"Yes. We had both read that settlers often lived in mud soddies, and so he had his servants build one for me. They put it right on his front lawn. He directed his staff. I didn't think he would really insist I live in the thing, but he did," she added with a laugh. "And so I moved in and stayed almost a full month. It was horrible at first. Every time it rained, mud would lop down from the-"

Victoria interrupted her. "Do you mean to say the ceiling was made of mud?"

Taylor nodded. "The entire roof was fashioned out of sod. The floor was dirt too, unless it rained. Then it turned to mud. I had a single window without any covering. Anything could fly inside."

"It sounds dreadful," Victoria replied. "Will we have to live in a soddie do you suppose?"

"Not if I can help it," Taylor promised. "But if we have to for a little while, then we will. I learned how to make a soddie into a home. Now that I reflect upon it, I learned quite a lot. After a while, it wasn't completely horrible. By late June, the roof had turned into a garden of lovely pink and purple and red flowers in full bloom. They spilled down over the sides like vines of ivy. From the distance, the soddie was breath-takingly beautiful. Inside, however, was a bit like living in a flowerpot."

"I do hope we'll have wooden floors and a real roof someday. I won't complain if we have to live in a flowerpot though. I promise I won't say a word."

"You won't have to," Taylor replied. "I'll do enough complaining for the both of us."

The two friends continued to formulate their plans for several more minutes. Then they went back to their rooms. Victoria was eager to start her list. Taylor wanted to write a letter to Mr. Sherman, outlining her instructions. Everything had to be settled before she left for the wilderness. She labored over her letter a good long while, and when she was satisfied with the content, she affixed her signature, and then reached for a second sheet of paper. She knew she needed to be as clear and concise as possible. The document would have to stand up in a court of law, she reasoned, and it therefore had to be completely understandable. There couldn't be any nebulous requests or explanations.

Taylor let out a sigh. She didn't relish this task. She found herself imagining she was attending a fancy ball in London and almost burst into laughter. What a different direction her life had taken. She sighed again, then got down to the business at hand and put her daydream and her past behind her. She picked up her pen, dipped it into the ink well, and began to write her last will and testament.

Chapter 10.

*The fear's as bad as falling.

-William Shakespeare, Cymbeline Lucas fell asleep waiting for Taylor. He thought about walking down to Victoria's room and dragging his wife back to their bed, then changed his mind. She knew what time it was, and if she wanted to stay up half the night talking to her friend, he shouldn't mind. He did mind though. Taylor needed her rest, and he wanted her to sleep next to him. He liked the way she cuddled up beside him. He liked holding her in his arms and falling asleep inhaling her sweet fragrance. Yet there was more to his need to have her close than the mere physical comfort she offered. When he was sleeping, he was vulnerable. In the past his nights had been as predictable as thunder following lightning. The same nightmare would grab hold of him and squeeze until he felt as though he was being ripped apart. He would wake up with the shout trapped in his throat and his heart feeling as though it were going to explode.

The nightmare never varied. Each night was the same as the night before. Until Taylor, he qualified. Lucas didn't know how it had happened, but she had become his personal shaman. His dreams didn't have any demons sneaking into them when she slept close to him. If he were a foolish, fanciful man, he'd believe her goodness and her purity of soul kept the nightmares at bay.

He shook his head then, trying without much success to push his thoughts aside. Only a fool would let a woman hold such power over him. If he didn't start guarding against her, she'd have him believing he would have it all. He might even start thinking he could be like other men and grow old with a family surrounding him, wanting him, loving him.

Lucas was a realist. He knew better than to embrace such hopeless thoughts. He let out a weary sigh.

Maybe Hunter was right after all. Perhaps there had been a reason why he'd been spared. His friend was the only one Lucas had ever confided in after the war. Hunter knew all about the murders of the men in his unit. The other soldiers had all had families waiting for them to come home. Lucas hadn't had anyone waiting for him. Of all the men, he was the most unworthy. He'd been born a bastard and lived like one for most of his life. He shouldn't have survived.

And yet he'd been the only one spared. Hunter insisted there was a reason and that time, and God, would eventually let him know what it was. Time Lucas understood. But God, well, he wasn't so certain about that notion. He believed in His existence, but he couldn't even begin to understand His reasoning.

And in a corner of his mind, he still harbored his childhood belief that God had forgotten all about him.

If his own mother couldn't love him, how could God?

Lucas refused to think about the matter any longer. The past was the past. It couldn't be undone. And just where in thunder was Taylor? It was after midnight now. She needed her sleep, he thought again, and he wanted her rested in the morning. And that, he told himself, was the only reason he was worrying about her. The two of them were in dire need of a long discussion about their future. They needed to make plans. He couldn't just leave her alone in Boston, for God's sake, without knowing what was going to happen to her. She told him she had relatives living here. Where the hell were they? Why hadn't they met her at the dock? One question piled up on top of another. Lucas decided he was going to insist upon meeting these relatives. He was going to make certain Taylor would be safe with them before he left her in their company.

He needed to leave Boston soon. The walls of the city felt as though they were pressing down on him.

The longer he stayed with Taylor, the more difficult it would be to walk away from her. God, she was making him crazy. She put thoughts into his mind he knew were impossible. Dreams, he thought.

Impossible dreams.

Lucas drifted off to sleep thinking about his wife. He'd taken his shoes off, his jacket as well, and had fallen asleep on top of the covers.

He was wide awake the second the key was slipped into the lock of the door, but he kept his eyes closed. A few seconds later, the door was slammed shut. He frowned in reaction. Taylor wasn't being considerate, and that, he realized, wasn't at all like her.

Something was wrong. He sat up in bed and swung his legs over the side just as she came tearing around the corner of the alcove. One look at her face told him something godawful had happened. She looked frantic. Since she'd spent the evening with Victoria, he assumed something had happened to her friend.

Taylor didn't give him time to ask questions. "Do you have your gun with you?"

He couldn't hide his surprise over the bizarre question. "Yes. Why?"

"You have to go back with me. Hurry, Lucas. Put your shoes on and get your guns. I've got one in my valise. Thank God I didn't pack it in one of my trunks."

She turned and ran to her wardrobe. She found the weapon at the bottom of the case. The small box of ammunition was on top of the gun. Taylor stood up, but she was so rattled, she dropped both her valise and her gun. She picked the weapon up first, shoved it into the pocket of her coat, then reached for the box of ammunition. She dropped that, too. Bullets went flying everywhere. Taylor knelt down again, swept a handful up, and put those into her other pocket. She left the rest of the bullets and the overturned valise on the carpet.

Lucas stood next to the alcove watching her. She was muttering something, but he couldn't make out all the words. Something about vermin...