Let Me Love You Read online

  Brianna gasped as sensation surged through her. She had no idea her skin could be so aware of a single touch. Her heart raced beneath her corset and her increased respiration drew the warm scent of Sloan’s skin deep into her lungs. She’d never imagine that she might like the way any human smelled but tonight, she enjoyed the scent of warm male skin that came with Sloan.

  “You’re standing under the mistletoe.” She lifted her eyes to look for the little green plant and Sloan leaned down to kiss her. She gasped as he slipped an arm around her to hold her in place. Her hands landed on the wide chest that had tempted her since last night. Each fingertip was alive with awareness as he took command of her mouth.

  Who could have explained to her that a man’s kiss might burn? Brianna twisted as Sloan’s mouth pressed her lips farther apart and the tip of his tongue gently moved over her lower lip. He didn’t rush the kiss. It was slow and firm, pressing her mouth open by small, steady degrees. She felt the brush of his fingers along the bare nape of her neck as he gently gripped the tender area, tipping her head back to offer her mouth more fully to his. Heat surged through her blood, igniting a need to get even closer to his body. Her fingertips lamented the fabric preventing her from touching him. A deep groan shook his chest before his tongue thrust into her mouth, breeding an answering whimper from her. His tongue stroked hers and pleasure swirled around her brain so thick, thinking was impossible. Brianna was more interested in lifting her tongue to join the dance and Sloan didn’t disappoint her. His tongue twisted with hers as he held her neck in place with that large hand.

  A moment later she was free. Sloan stood looking at her with a dark hunger flickering in his eyes. Brianna stared at that emotion as she tried to force her mind to tell her what it was. Her body seemed to understand. Her belly was twisting and her blood racing, but she couldn’t quite form a word to describe the flood of sensations that look brought on. Only one thing she knew for certain: she wanted Sloan to kiss her some more.

  And she wanted to kiss him back.

  That truth frightened her. She knew so little about this man, yet her body was ready, even eager, to offer up her chastity to him. Brianna lifted a hand to cover her mouth as she stared at the hard desire displayed on his face. Sloan was watching, waiting to see what she did in response to his liberty-taking. A Christmas kiss beneath the mistletoe was a quick press of lips. Not the hungry, ravishing embrace he’d just stolen that burned through her senses. Her mouth tingled, sparking a hunger that she was quite at a loss as to how to deal with.

  She should slap him or find some sharp, insulting comment to lay on his ears for his boldness. Berate him for acting like a cad. But the thing that kept her staring in stunned silence was the fact that she’d enjoyed it. Her body was saying yes and Brianna wasn’t a hypocrite, even if she was weak enough to like his kiss. Heat flowed through her like a river. Insane ideas danced across her imagination, tempting her to reach for him and press her own kiss against his mouth. Return his boldness, measure for measure. It wasn’t a ladylike notion at all.

  Oh, her mother had certainly tried to teach her better, but the heat bleeding across every inch of her skin only proved Brianna was an extremely poor student.

  “It’s November. Not Christmas.”

  Sloan nodded as he gripped his belt. “So it is.”

  He didn’t sound repentant, not one bit. Most men would at least offer an apology for stealing such a kiss right in the church entryway. “Told you not to trust any man. I wanted to kiss you, so I did it. The rules don’t really matter when I know how to get around them.”

  “Kissing me was meant as some kind of warning?”

  He jerked slightly, and gripped his belt tighter. His gaze moved for a brief moment as he checked either side of them for any approaching company. When his attention was once again centered on her, a warning flared in his dark eyes.

  “Kissing you was enjoyable. I liked it so much, you’d better get inside before I forget you’re a virgin.”

  The knuckles on his hands turned white and Brianna shivered. She could see a battle to let her go burning in his dark eyes, like he was arguing against some inner beast to do the right thing and treat her like a lady.

  The horrible reality was a part of her didn’t want Sloan to win that fight. The light in the hall suddenly lost its beckoning appeal as Brianna fought the desire to let Sloan pull her away into some dark shadow where they could explore the heat their skin created when they were pressed together. Discover what it was like to be stroked along every part of her body that her dress covered. Her thoughts shocked her as much as they excited her. Forcing her mind to return to the sharper edges of reality, she recalled the face of the last female she’d seen leaving town as a fallen woman. There wouldn’t be any reprieve from the judgment of the community and Sloan McAlister didn’t strike her as the marrying sort.

  “You can stop worrying about me, Mr. McAlister. I heard you just fine and I certainly don’t need a man kissing me because he feels sorry for my ignorance. I assure you I can get a kiss without making a man feel pity for me.”

  It might not be the wisest thing that had ever rolled out of her mouth, but she wasn’t going to scurry into the church with her tail tucked between her legs. The man bred a need inside her to prove she was strong enough to handle anything. She didn’t want him to see her as weak.

  His eyes flashed dark warning at her before she lifted her chin and turned her back on him. Her neck tightened as she moved through the entryway, unsure if her boots were going to remain on the floor. She’d tossed her words at him like a challenge. No way was she was going to whimper because he’d treated her like a woman.

  But the man loved a challenge. She sensed that about him. While taunting him just might be the dumbest thing she’d ever done, the urge to do so had been irresistible.

  Brianna turned and left. Sloan had to force his body to stay right there. He wanted to chase her, run her to ground like a hunter did to its prey. Press another kiss onto her lips just because she’d dared him to.

  A deep chuckle shook his chest. He enjoyed the way her hips swayed as she disappeared into the church. She might be a lady, but hidden beneath her calico dress was one fine woman. Part of him enjoyed that idea a little too much. A dark need threatened to take control, tempting him with the notion of making sure he was waiting when she emerged from the social gathering.

  Hell, he was a beast most of the time. Embracing those instincts kept him alive when he’d buried men who thought their brainpower was the key to being a long-lived railroad agent.

  Sloan stepped back into the street. Noise coming from one of the saloons drifted on the wind, promising him a sample of sin if he was willing to walk away from the church. Down there, temptation would rule as long as the whiskey flowed and no one would think about repenting until sunrise. He should take a little walk and ease the swollen cock that was calling out Brianna’s name.

  Yeah, well, that wasn’t what his cock wanted. The idea of lying between any other woman’s thighs left a sour taste in his mouth. Sloan turned and moved back towards his bunkhouse. His eyebrows rose slightly as his cock continued to throb for a little brown-haired virgin.

  That wouldn’t be happening. The sooner he got that thought through his thick skull, the better. Brianna was everything he didn’t even have a right to think about. Men like him didn’t lie down with sweet innocents like her. But the scent of her hair lingered as Sloan strolled silently thought the night. He was at home in the dark, always had been.

  That was the real trouble. Brianna belonged in a well-lit room with music and scented candles. In spite of her brave words, she’d likely scream if he ever took her to his bed and introduced her to the darker delights he craved. Sure, she’d marry up with one of the town dandies strutting their new bowties and dancing in that church tonight. Brianna would do her duty and spread her thighs for a husband, but she would never cling to a man like he was longing for her to press against him.

  “That sure wasn
’t the wisest move I’ve seen you make.” Warren Howell offered his opinion from his position across the alleyway that ran between the church and the mercantile.

  Sloan knew it. Ladies were off-limits and always had been. Just why he was craving one tonight didn’t make a whole lot of sense. A pair of blue eyes floated past his memory as the taste of her kiss lingered on his mouth. It was the sort of taste that was going to haunt him. One corner of his mouth lifted as Sloan looked at the light spilling out of the church. Well, if he was going to be haunted, a man couldn’t ask for a better specter. A deep chuckle rumbled out of his chest as he walked.

  “I wasn’t thinking.”

  Warren lifted an eyebrow in response before falling into step beside him. “I noticed that.”

  Sloan glared at his fellow railroad agent. Warren was his constant companion. They were comrades who backed each other up. There was no such thing as off-duty. Taking off alone was a good way to be found dead with a bullet in your back. One dead agent meant the men on the rail dock were easier to take out. It could take weeks for replacements to arrive. That was, if there were men to be had. A good agent took training and seasoning. Warren and he shared the shadows regularly. Tonight, he found it a little too claustrophobic. Shrugging beneath his duster, Sloan tried to adjust his attitude. He was headed for a night of dreams haunted by a specter in the form of Brianna Spencer.

  Naw, specter wasn’t the word…it was siren. A beautiful creature luring him closer with her song. If he followed, it would end in his death.

  Yup, sweet siren. But a man could still dream even if he had to hold his course steady. Life rarely delivered the visions of perfection that decorated your dreams.

  “But I’m thinking now.” Sloan looked at his partner. “So, forget you noticed anything. She’s a respectable girl.” Sloan actually enjoyed the surge of protectiveness that rose inside him.

  Warren didn’t comment. He slid a long glance at Sloan before returning his eyes to the darker shadows they were getting ready to pass. The wind whipped up the dust as they crossed the center of town. The noise from the church faded as they headed towards the rail yards. The sound of running water replaced every human-made noise.

  Sloan stopped before setting a foot on the first plank of the loading dock. A slight shift and he looked back at the church. Light spilled out through its windows in a display of yellow beams. It was almost mesmerizing to a man who lived his life protecting the sort of law that allowed a haven like the church to exist in a border town. Agents like him and Warren backed up order with hard, cold steel. It had been a long time since he’d noticed the lack of payback for his efforts. Brianna’s kiss lingered in his thoughts, a stolen taste of what he devoted his life to protecting. In spite of the fact that he never got to enjoy the haven his efforts produced.

  But he wasn’t the first man to be tempted by the society he patrolled. A grin lifted his lips as he turned his back on the church. Temptation was a mean spirit, but she sure was a sight for the tired soul to look at.

  “I’m going to snatch me a wife, Pa.” Joseph Corners was half-drunk, but he enjoyed whiskey so didn’t much care that drinking made his mouth run faster than a spring river. His pa looked up and pushed his hat back so that he could get a good look at his son.

  “Don’t be bringing the law down on this house, boy.”

  “The law don’t need to know.” Joseph took another swig from his bottle and rubbed his swollen cock. “I want Brianna Spencer for my bride and I’m going to snatch her up.” He snickered as he fantasized about tossing her into his bed. His cock throbbed some more as he licked his lower lip in anticipation of having her at his command. Her sweet skin would be clean, a whole lot better than a used whore. He’d just bet that her pussy smelled nice too.

  “Her daddy ever come back from the hills?”

  “Naw. Everyone knows he’s dead except her. See, that’s the best part, Pa. I get me a wife and after I get it all legal-like, that mill is ours. If we was running that mill, we could get a pocket full of gold out of those dumb farmers.”

  Greed sparkled in his father’s eyes. The cabin was dingy and full of mud from the boots of Joseph and his three brothers. His mother had died two years ago and the woman’s work had fallen aside with her passing. His pa looked at the greasy cast-iron skillet sitting on the stove.

  “Well, I think it might be nice to have a woman around here again. About time one of you boys married up and saw to the keeping of your pa. What’s you planning to do, boy? Beat her into submission?”

  A hint of enjoyment rushed through him but he shrugged it off. He didn’t want to blacken Brianna’s face like his pa had done to his ma. There were other ways to control a woman. “Naw, she’s a pretty thing.”

  “But she ain’t agreed to marry you. She’s got to agree in front of the parson or we don’t get the mill.” His pa’s voice was edgy. Like he was thinking of laying his fist across Joseph’s head for not agreeing to beat Brianna into compliance. Sitting up, Joseph wiped his mouth down his sleeve before trying to convince his sire of his plan. He did it fast because his pa wasn’t known for his patience and he knew what the older man’s fist felt like.

  “See, I was thinking. I snatch her up here and lock her away from the rest of the town for the winter. Won’t no one really notice once the snow sets in. Remember what you taught me about breaking a mare? I see it sort of like the same thing. If Brianna is forced to depend on me for food, she’ll soften up towards me. Get to liking me soon enough, cause I’m all she’s got.”

  “Not too bad an idea, son.”

  Joseph grinned because his pa only called him son when he was proud of him. “Besides, I figure if we got’s us a baby on the way, Brianna will be in a fine hurry to marry me before her belly gets too big.”

  His pa snickered. “Well now, it can get mighty cold up here in the winter. Seems like you’d better plan on keeping that pretty little girl warm.”

  Joseph snatched up his whiskey bottle and offered it to his pa. The older man took a swig before passing it back. Joseph rubbed his cock again and grinned as he considered just how to place his plan into action. With his pa on his side, his brothers wouldn’t be no trouble. In fact, they’d help out, considering there was a woman’s cooking to be gained.

  He didn’t doubt he’d have Brianna stoking the dirty black stove in front of him. She’d bend to his command just like a prairie pony did when you starved it long enough. He licked his lower lip as he considered what she might do when her belly ached bad enough for food. Some of them whores did some mighty fine things with a man’s cock. Seeing as how Brianna had all the same parts as those women, he was looking forward to having her at his mercy. Planting a baby in her belly wasn’t going to be half the fun, not hardly.

  Chapter Three

  Brianna awoke to discover that winter wasn’t wasting any time in arriving. There was ice on the river this morning. Small clumps of snow lay on the bank and they didn’t completely melt away by afternoon. Ice flowed down the river, heralding the onslaught of the cold weather.

  Brianna ran a longing hand over a new length of flannel fabric waiting near her sewing machine. Making a winter dress sounded wonderful. She stroked the black cast-iron machine with a loving finger, taking a moment to enjoy the fact that she didn’t have to sew by hand anymore. Powered by a foot treadle, the sewing machine practically flew through stitching fabric together. Every stitch was perfect too. Just watching it made her giddy like a child with a new toy. Only it was a woman’s toy. Her father had bought the machine last season and she still had trouble believing she owned such a modern convenience. It sure would save money, if she could make her own clothing instead of buying garments at the mercantile.

  More money might even be earned if she made men’s shirts and sold them in town. Home goods went for a good sum in Silver Peak due to the lack of women. Miners wore out their shirts and without a wife they were reduced to buying new ones from women who had learned how to make money with housewifery skil
l. More than one westerner found himself being kept by his wife, when his dreams of striking gold didn’t materialize. Savvy women had discovered that their skills in the home were worth cash to the hordes of miners. Once her daddy returned, she might just take up tailoring and strike a bargain with the mercantile in town.

  With two incomes, the land bill wouldn’t be a problem ever again. A bright smile covered her face as she gave the machine a loving pat. Yes sir, she and her father were going to make it in the West without finding any gold. They would just provide the services that the miners and farmers needed. Back east, huge factories kept a single family from prospering. That was why her father had moved them west. Opportunity was here for those bold enough to pit their fortunes against the harshness of getting started.

  The creaking of a wagon interrupted her ideas. She went to the door to peek out of the view hole now that her window was boarded closed.

  A smile moved her lips up as the widow Lambert climbed down from her buckboard. Bonnie Lambert was as sweet as a summer strawberry. Pushing the bar up, Brianna pulled the door open and stepped into the yard to greet her guest. Bonnie wouldn’t have any money to offer, but she always waited until the end of the season before attempting to barter for her grinding. That sort of consideration made her a good friend. The widow had lost her husband to fever after an accident, but her three young sons still managed to bring in enough of a crop to feed the family. Brianna would bet the widow had been sending her youngest son over the hill to look at the river every morning this week to see if the ice was getting thicker. Judging the perfect time to make her appearance.