Читать книгу Wedding Night With the Ranger - Lauri Robinson - Страница 7

Trying to stay mad at Colt Severson was like trying to prevent the sun from shining—utterly impossible.

Annalee took a deep breath. His nearness, the warmth of his hand gently holding her arm, was more than enough to make her melt faster than ice in August. She had no willpower when it came to him—absolutely none. All it took was one glance from those startling blue eyes and she was helpless. The way the left side of his mouth curled when he gave her one of his death-defying grins had the ability to send her heart darting around in her chest like a firefly in a mason jar.

What was she going to do? How could she—of all people—be married to him? It was a dream come true and yet a nightmare at the same time. He had no idea—at least she hoped he had no idea about all the nights she’s lain in her single bed, wishing with all her might that he was lying beside her. Doing all the things to her body that Janice Webster said her husband James did. The thought of Colt stroking her skin, kissing her breasts…Annalee clamped her lips together and sucked air in through her nose.

The Dodge House was two blocks away, and she willed herself to make the jaunt without thinking another thought, uttering another word. It wasn’t proper for a woman to have such scandalous thoughts. But gall darn it, those types of thoughts filled her mind every time she saw him. It was as if her body took over, tingling and quivering, hoping beyond hope that he’d touch her. She briefly closed her eyes, tried to imagine she was walking alone. It didn’t work. Her body knew he was right beside her and twittered liked a songbird.

He tipped his head to Kitty Carlson and Donna Dunsbar.

Giggling, they greeted, “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Severson.”

“Ladies,” he said sociably.

Annalee gritted her teeth, glaring at them. They both had been at the wedding, knew how shocked she was by the event. Less than an hour after he’d shown up on her doorstep, announcing their immediate wedding, her friends had descended upon her house with all the flurry of a winter snowfall. While she tried to keep from fainting, they’d dressed her and organized a wedding it took most people a month to pull together. She was still trying to recover, still wondering if it was a dream—and Kitty and Donna knew it.

Colt held the door open and, though it was very rude, she ignored the greeting Owen Carp made as they walked through the lobby of the hotel. It wasn’t completely on purpose. She couldn’t offer a greeting. Thoughts of what her married friends had said would happen tonight left her heart waltzing across her chest, making her completely breathless.

She counted the stairs, twenty-one to be exact, as they climbed the staircase to the second floor. The stifling July heat filled the hall, but since her body was already on fire, it really didn’t affect her. Nothing could.

“After you, my dear,” Colt said, and gave a slight bow as he pushed the door wide for her to enter their room.

Their room—the thought made her legs wobble. Stepping in, she paused near the dresser along the wall beside the door, namely because she needed the support. The room, one of the most luxurious the cow town had to offer, provided no relief from the heat, nor from the trembles racking her body. How would she control herself? Keep from attacking him and begging him to do all the things she’s dreamed of him doing to her?

After closing and locking the door, Colt crossed the room and threw open the window sash. The ever-present wind immediately swirled into the room and Annalee let out a sigh, not really in reprieve, but more to clear her lungs before she drew in a deep breath to assist in getting her delinquent body under control. Walking down the street at his side, being called Mrs. Severson, was close to her breaking point.

The incident on the street with Martin Tyler and Samuel Cummings had reminded her of the first night she’d seen him three long years ago. Two boys had been rifling through his saddlebags, and though he’d had a right to protect his belongings, she was just like every other citizen of Dodge—leery of newcomers until they proved themselves—and jumped to the defense of the boys. In no short order, she’d told him if he was so concerned about his possessions, he should never have left his animal unattended. He’d done little more than smile at her with that heart-stopping grin, and since that moment, not a single day had gone by without Colt Severson filling her mind.

Saddened, she closed her eyes, silently admitting she couldn’t be married to him. She had nothing to offer a man of his caliber. Reverend Mitchell told her so, more than once. He also said it wasn’t Christian to think of what she wanted, her happiness. He proclaimed her Christian duty was to help with the needs of the church, help those who couldn’t help themselves.

Why? She asked herself. Why had she said yes?

A loud click vibrated the room. She glanced up in time to watch Colt break open her shotgun. The brows above his cornflower-blue eyes arched as the empty cylinders of both chambers were revealed.

A sparkle not unlike the sun shining on freshly washed windows glowed in his eyes as his gaze met hers. Annalee stifled a moan and her shoulders slumped. She’d dreamed about this day for years, as had most every other woman in Dodge, of becoming Mrs. Colt Severson. In her dreams it had been possible, because love brought them together, not stolen cattle. Her heart started flapping around like a fish out of water. Well, actually it had been behaving in such a way ever since he’d arrived at her house this morning, but all of sudden it beat harder, pounding against the inside walls erratically.

The wave of dark hair falling across his forehead fluttered as he cocked his head to one side, clearly, silently, waiting for her to respond to his findings.

She found an ounce of courage, enough to speak. The thought of lying didn’t have a chance to enter her mind. “I couldn’t find any shells. Pa must have taken them all.”

“That, my dear, was a very stupid thing to do.”

Anger, close to what she’d felt when learning he’d taken himself off to the Broken Spoke shortly after they’d cut their wedding cake, rose up her spine. “Stupid! How dare you—”

“Oh, I dare,” he interrupted, leaning the gun against the table near the window. “Yes, stupid,” he repeated. “And dangerous.” His blue eyes held an annoyed squint as he slowly walked toward her. “Don’t ever draw a gun on a man unless you’re fully prepared to shoot him.”

“I—” she started, but stopped. She had no intention of shooting him, never had. The image of him dancing or making friends with one of dance hall gals had been what sent her marching down the street with the gun. If he thought he could wed her one minute and then carry on as if he was still single the next, he had another think coming. Her ire rose again, and just like back at the saloon the first words she blurted out were “Where is my father?”

He’d stopped directly in front of her. His hands settled on her shoulders. “First, you must promise you’ll never, ever, take a gun into a saloon again.” His face softened, revealing he was the most handsome man ever created. “Please, Annalee, promise me you won’t do that again.”

Whether it was his pleading voice, so utterly sweet, or the way his big, gentle hands rolled over her shoulders, she didn’t know, but all of a sudden heat swirled between her thighs. Beads of sweat broke out at her temples, and she couldn’t breathe. Captivated, she could do nothing but stare into his pools of blue.