Miranda breathed a sigh of relief when Preston dropped the subject of her parents. She’d known it was merely a matter of time before he questioned her about her background. The fact that she told the town council that she came to Santa Fe at the request of and with the help of the marshal was sure to raise questions in any man’s mind.

She was smart enough to sense the protectiveness in Preston as well as his growing feelings for her. The same feelings she was afraid were dancing around her heart. She could not allow that to happen. One year ago, if she were asked what she wanted in a husband, she would have described Preston. Strong, caring, easy to look at, no excessive alcohol, financially secure.

Well, it was not to be so she might as well push any ideas about them together forever from her mind.

They finished up the dinner, along with one of the bottles of wine Preston had brought home with him. She’d never had wine with her dinner before but found it made the food taste better and relaxed her quite a bit. Thankfully, she’d only had one glass and Preston finished the rest since she was feeling a bit lightheaded.

Preston helped her clear the table and dried the dishes as she washed them. As she was drying her hands on a towel, he walked up behind her and wrapped her in his arms, resting his chin on her shoulder. “How about if we relax in the parlor for a while? It’s early. Maybe you can read some Shakespeare.”

Remembering his statement about them reading Shakespeare while cuddled in bed brought a flush to her face. Having him this close also did strange things to her insides. Even though she was untouched, she knew where this was headed if she allowed things to continue. Perhaps it was the wine, or the new house, or just Preston’s effect on her, but she heard the sound of her determination shattering like a glass dropped on the floor.

“I don’t have any Shakespeare. All my books are still in Dodge City.” Lord, she could have bitten her tongue off. Here she went and opened up the subject of her past again. Marshal Jones had asked her if she wanted to get anything from her house before they’d left for Santa Fe, but she shuddered at the thought of entering that house again. To see the spot where she shot Frankie and he collapsed in front of her, blood puddling on the floor. So, she left Dodge City with the clothes on her back and a few personal items that Miss Nellie bought for each girl. That would certainly seem strange to Preston.

She fumbled, knowing her face had grown red again. “With the three of us in the wagon, there wasn’t room for us to take much with us.” Hoping that kept him from asking any more questions, she gave him a bright smile. “We can go over your business books. I did some more work today.”

Preston dropped his chin on his chest. “No, sweetheart, I don’t want to go over the books. Let’s just make a small fire in the fireplace and open that other bottle of wine. Just sit by the fire and talk.”

She was tempted to say, “Talk about what?” but not wanting to again curse herself for her loose tongue, she kept quiet and just nodded. “Yes. That would be pleasant.”

As pleasant as it could be with her dodging any more questions.

Preston grabbed a colorful knitted blanket she’d purchased from the mercantile to decorate the sofa and dragged it to the floor in front of the fireplace. He took the flint box from the mantle and started a fire while she sat on the sofa watching him work. He stood and shrugged out of his jacket, then removed his vest and tie, leaving off his collar as well and opening the first two buttons of his shirt.

Her eyes grew wide, wondering if he planned to strip right there in front of her. She took a deep breath at the sight of the opening at the top of his shirt with the oil lamp on the table casting a light on his golden skin with whispers of dark curly hair.

She didn’t realize she was staring with her mouth open until he stepped up to her and placing his finger under her chin pushed her mouth closed. He grinned. “You might catch flies that way, darlin’.”

There was no way he missed her red face now. She licked her lips and looked up at him. He groaned and reached out to pull her up, tucking her against his chest. “Keep looking at me like that Mrs. Stone, and I will be removing your clothes.”

Parts of her body she’d rarely been aware of came to life. Her nipples that were pressed up against his warm chest hardened, and the area between her legs tingled. She felt restless, and her clothes seemed tight all of a sudden. And the heat! The fire had just begun, and yet she was already overheated and sweating.

Almost as if he knew what she was feeling, he smirked and pulled her even closer, taking her mouth in a delicious kiss. He nudged her lips with his tongue and she opened, once again enjoying the strange sensation of his tongue in her mouth. Tentatively, she pushed her tongue against his and he sucked in a deep breath and cupped her head to shift positions.

His kiss grew more explosive, possessive, and demanding. She wrapped her arms around his waist to keep herself upright. Then, just as she thought she would expire for lack of air, he pulled away. “Breath, sweetheart.” They were both panting as he scattered small kisses from her jaw to the sensitive skin behind her ear. “Let’s skip the fire and go upstairs to bed.”

How she wanted to do that, but somewhere in the back of her mind a thought nudged her that it was a bad idea. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Oh, honey, I think it’s a wonderful idea.” He continued his assault on her senses, pushing further back her reason for resistance. He cupped her breast and ran his thumb over her nipple.

“Yessss.”

“I’m glad you agree.” Before she could tell him she was referring to how good that felt, not the idea of them racing toward a bed, he scooped her up and headed to the stairs.

* * *

Preston took the stairs two at a time in the race to their bedroom. Once they entered the room and he kicked the door closed, he released Miranda, sliding her body down his. She sucked in a breath, telling him her body had grown sensitive with his kisses.

Assuming as a preacher’s daughter she was a virgin, he had to go slow, but on the other hand if he went too slow she might begin to remind him she only wanted a marriage of convenience. Nonsense.

With the way she responded to him, he couldn’t imagine why she would continue to hold out. She seemed to have no good reason for this, except the fact that they had been strangers. Well, no more. They were married, had enjoyed some pretty hot kisses and shared the same bed even if they hadn’t done anything more than sleep.

It was time to make her his wife in every way. Everything else about his marriage was perfect. He still had moments when he couldn’t believe this wonderful woman had been dropped into his lap just when he needed her the most. The doubts that tease him about this very thing had been shoved to the back of his mind.

Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

Still clothed, he laid her on the bed and joined her, resting partly over her body. He placed his hands on both sides of her head. “You are so beautiful. And I want you so much, to feel you underneath me with passion darkening your eyes.”

Her slow smile boiled his blood. He covered her mouth as his hands kept busy unbuttoning her shirtwaist. He was stunned to feel her fingers unfastening the buttons on his shirt as well. It seems his wife had decided to join the party. His cock shouted hooray.

He worried about losing control, taking her too fast, frightening her. She seemed to be as anxious as he was, but he was the experienced one in this, and he needed to remember this was his wife, not some doxy from a brothel.

Before long they’d frantically removed all her clothes and everything of his except his drawers. He ran his hand over her body, relishing the dips and curves. She had generous breasts with brown nipples just begging for his mouth. She carried a few more pounds than some women, but she was just the right size for him. He’d always disliked bedding a woman with no more than skin and bones, always being afraid of breaking them or getting jabbed with a sharp elbow.

Miranda had a body a man could hang onto. Soft, cushiony, warm, sweet-smelling. He slid further down and took one of her pouting nipples in his mouth, gave it a suck that brought a moan of pleasure from her sweet lips. He moved his head to minister to the other nipple while she fisted her hands in his hair.

“Oh, I love how that feels. Don’t stop.”

“Darlin’ we’re just getting started.” He continued for a few more minutes while she moved restlessly on the bed. Feeling her growing close to release, he moved back up, his large hand taking her face and holding it gently. Nibbling on her lips before reclaiming her mouth with hunger, he was overcome with her taste, smell, and soft mewing sounds. His heart pounded with the need to take her, make her his.

Then never let her go.

* * *

Miranda knew she was in trouble before Preston swung her into his arms and sped up the stairs. She tried to hold onto her determination, but the man was so very good at seduction. Several things had entered her mind about what a bad idea this was, but even not overly familiar with the process, she still didn’t think one session of love making would render her pregnant.

She and Miss Nellie had a few conversations on the way to Santa Fe over coffee and the campfire each night and although she’d been scandalized by the question, Miss Nellie grudgingly told her how her girls kept from getting pregnant. Miranda certainly did not have access to anything Miss Nellie mentioned, but in the course of the discussion, the former madam had told her how rare it was for a woman to conceive with only one sexual encounter.

She’d planned from the time the marshal roped them into his own plan that she would work at a job in Santa Fe and disappear, or marry, if forced to, and then disappear. Of course when she’d made her decision there had been no Preston in her life. It had been easy to think of marrying and then abandoning an unknown man. But her flesh and blood husband with feelings, and expectations made her plan seem if nothing else, downright mean.

Pushing all of that aside, she relaxed while Preston brought her great delights with his mouth and hands. If this was to be her only opportunity for intimacy she wanted to make sure she gave herself plenty of good memories.

Wanting to experience the entire encounter, she slowly moved her hand down to the impressive bulge in Preston’s drawers. He sucked in a breath as she covered his member with her hand.

It was warm and hard, and very, very strange. However, since he’d had it all his life to Preston there was probably nothing odd about this part of his body. She moved her hand, squeezing and rubbing, growing bolder with each second.

“Ah, darlin’, yes, just like that.” He stared down at her with heavy-lidded eyes as his fingers moved to the area between her legs.

She gasped as all her attention switched to what he was doing.

Miranda shifted her body and licked Preston’s flat nipple. His body was so very different from hers. Hard where hers was soft. All angles where hers was curvy. Even his skin was not as soft as hers but was covered with light hair on the center of his chest running down to disappear into the waistband of his drawers.

She looked up at him. “Isn’t it time you took the rest of your clothes off?”

He hopped from the bed and striped the last of his clothing off. The area between his legs was even more odd looking than she would have thought. And large.

Hell, very large. Very, very large.

Her eyes flicked from that area to his face to see him grinning. “Stop thinking, my love.”

“I’m not thinking.” She swallowed. “I’m panicking.”

His laughter resonated around the room as he climbed back onto the bed and pulled her into his arms. “Relax, sweetheart, it will be fine.”

Since she doubted that Preston was built so very different from other men, and women like Miss Nellie had done this very thing with any number of strange men and lived to talk about it, she probably should listen to her husband and just relax.

Of course, once he kissed her again, her brain began to shut down again and she couldn’t think—only feel.

His fingers became busier as he played with the part of her body that she was so very focused on. “Yes. Yes. Yes. That feels wonderful. Don’t stop.” She was becoming so warm even though they were both naked. “Preston, I’m missing something.”

“Yes, honey, now is when you relax and let me do the work.” He took her nipple in his mouth again and lightly bit her, then soothed her with his tongue. She squeaked and pressed the quite moist part of her body against Preston’s hand. “Harder.”

“Yes, dear wife. Anything to please my woman.” He stepped up his finger play and she pressed harder. “What is happening?”

“You are getting close to your release. Just relax, don’t strain.”

Miranda kept feeling as though she was climbing a hill and could not reach the top. “More, please, more.” She hardly recognized her own voice.

Preston ducked his head and sucked hungrily on her breast as he squeezed something between his fingers and Miranda shouted his name, her head thrashing back and forth on the pillow. Wave after wave of wonderful feelings flooded her body. She no longer controlled her own body and moaned and thrashed as she pulled his mouth to hers.

When the waves ended, she sank into the mattress, her breathing erratic and her heart pumping like it would jump from her chest. Whatever just happened had changed her, frightened her. How could she share this with her husband and leave him? What sort of horrible woman was she, anyway?

Preston leaned his elbow on the bed and rested his head on his hand and watched her as he wiped the damp curls from her forehead. “How was that?”

She could barely form the words. “Wonderful. Just wonderful.” She reached up to cup his chin, and her arm fell back as if she had no muscles to support it.

“Good. Because now it’s my turn.” He regarded her with a smoldering look as he spread her legs with his knee and moved on top of her, resting comfortably against her hips and bracing his large body on his elbows. “Let’s try that ride again, darlin’.”