She began to gather her senses. Maybe this madman who held her was just one of many. Maybe they’d already killed Roselle and Martin—and Seth! Would Seth be safe? She hadn’t thought much of Seth lately, but now she was very concerned about him. How could she have ignored him so much lately?
Abruptly, she was taken off the horse. She stood quietly, holding her balance. She heard footsteps behind her and then a door opened. Hands guided her through the door, up the one step over the threshold.
She listened. She sniffed the air and soon discovered burning logs. He began circling her. She heard his slow, easy footsteps.
His hands were on her shoulders, then on her head. She felt the tie that bound her hair being pulled away. The hands were spreading her hair, combing it with gentle fingers. She stepped away from him, but the grip on her shoulders tightened.
The hands were on her waist, encircling it, the thumbs in front as they moved upward to touch the undercurve of her breasts. She stood still, rigid. He touched her face, his palms on her cheeks.
He began unfastening the little buttons down the front of the soiled cotton dress. No! She shook her head. She made a noise in her throat. His hands worked slowly. She felt the bodice part and knew the corset and underlying chemise were exposed.
She felt a tugging, and something cold touched her shoulder. She jerked away, falling to her knees. She sat back, ready to kick her assailant. Her shoulder hurt and it was warm and damp. Blood! He’d cut her.
She stood very still. A cool cloth was placed on her cut shoulder and the pain stopped. She felt a tug again on the shoulder of the dress, and it fell away on one side. She felt another tug and then a tearing sound. The dress had been removed from her body. She heard footsteps and then felt extra heat from the fire. He had burned the dress!
She felt sharp little jerks as the laces on her corset were cut. Then it, too, fell away. She breathed deeply when the constricting garment was gone. He tore off her chemise and threw both it and the corset on the fire.
Hands went to the back of her head and unfastened the blindfold. Everything was a blur and then her eyes began to focus…
“Hello, little wife. Oh, no, I plan to leave the gag on for a while. I have a great deal to say to you, and I don’t want any interruptions.”
She leaned forward to cover herself, her eyes pleading with him to allow her to shield herself.
“As you can see, I burned your clothes. I plan to keep you just like that for some time.” He sat in a chair by the fireplace. “Come here, a little closer. I want to really enjoy you.” He took her arm and she tried to jerk away, but he held fast.
“You’re really angry, aren’t you?”
She nodded vigorously, staring intently.
“I will explain. I am a very patient man, but I am not a martyr. I was willing to wait for you for years, as I’ve told you, but the way things were going at the Three Crowns would have tried the patience of a saint. How many women can say their husbands have made only one mistake? It was a big mistake, and I was rather ah … unpleasant … about it. And it did cause a great deal of misfortune for us both.
“Morgan, if you keep frowning at me with such ferocity, your entire forehead will be wrinkled in two days. I know I’m simplifying things, but I’ve stood by now for nearly a month and watched you ‘leading your own life,’ and I believe you are only making a mess of it.”
She started to pull away from him, but he pulled her onto his lap, her head on his shoulder, legs across him. “I like this very much.
“I don’t know if I can go on talking to you.” His voice was husky as he stroked her thighs. “It was such a surprise when I first saw your body. And every time I’ve seen it since—too few times—I have marveled again at the perfection of it.
“Morgan, I love you so much.” He ignored the loud noise of protest she made in her throat. “I thought everything was solved when Gordon left, but then Adam got sick and I had to leave to take Lupita home. When I returned, I knew something had to be done, and done quickly. You need someone to guide you, to care for you. I leave you alone for a week, and look what happens! You quit eating, bathing—you smell awful, you know—and you turn my nice, laughing little boy into a whining monster.
“Every time I have been away from you, terrible things have happened. I left the wagons on the way to New Mexico, and Cat Man took you. I was late to a party and, well … you know what happened then.”
She turned her head away.
“I just couldn’t do it anymore,” he switched subjects abruptly.
She looked at him in question.
“I couldn’t stand by and let you make a fool of yourself. You need me.”
She jerked her head up, chin out.
“You’re very good at pantomiming. You do need me, and these last few days prove it.”
His voice was lower. “Would you like to know what I have planned for you? I plan to keep you here until you get over your anger. That may be a year or so. And then we’ll wait until you admit that you love me. Oh, you think that’s impossible, but I assure you it’s not. Meanwhile, while you’re making up your mind about your feelings for me, I plan to drive you wild with passion.”
Her eyes widened and her body stiffened.
“Not right now, though. First, I’m going to bathe you, feed you, and let you rest for a time. Maybe.” He looked at her golden skin. “I should like to see you just as you are for a while, a long while. I hope you like it here because Roselle—yes, Roselle, and don’t look as if she were a traitor, she nearly gave me away at the barn—Roselle packed enough food to last us a month. If that isn’t enough time, I’ll lock you in here and go get more. You, dearest”—he kissed her nose—“are my prisoner of love.”