Lisa Plumley - The Scoundrel

Well. This made her new husband’s intentions plain, didn’t it? Daniel wanted their marriage to be more real than he’d first implied. This nightgown was proof enough of that. Doubtless, he couldn’t wait to see her in it. Perhaps he was even waiting round the bend, eagerly anticipating her unveiling.

Excitedly, Sarah clutched the gown to her heart. When her new husband came home, there was one thing for certain. She’d be ready for him!

T he next morning, Daniel awakened with a curious sense of impending disaster. He couldn’t reckon why at first. His head ached, but that was to be expected after a night at Murphy’s. His mouth felt parched, but that would be easily remedied with a drink from his bedside pitcher. His bed felt lumpy, but that was because his mattress was occupied on the other side.

Occupied?

“Eli.” Realizing what must be afoot, he cleared the hoarseness from his voice and tried again. “Go back to your own bed. Whatever bogeyman you’re scared of is gone now.”

“It’s not Eli. It’s me.”

The mattress sagged. Sarah rolled over, a smile on her face. She got herself comfortable with both hands flattened on the pillow beneath her cheek, then regarded him steadily.

Daniel started in surprise, his heart pounding. He clutched the bed linens and stared back at her. His first thought was, she looks angelic. Which was daft. Then, less groggily, what the hell is she doing here? Which was better. He didn’t remember having gotten in bed with her last night, but that didn’t mean… Could he have sunk so low as to seduce Sarah?

A flood of feelings washed over him, led by remorse and tailed by…damnation, it felt almost like curiosity. What was the matter with him? Of a certain, he was a scoundrel. He freely admitted to that. But to have taken advantage of an innocent like Sarah? His friend?

With a mighty effort, Daniel managed to relax his grasp on the sheets. No matter how odd this was, he could not leap from the bed straightaway. That would only hurt Sarah’s feelings. Clearly, she felt at home with…whatever had happened between them.

Hoping to figure things out, he risked a wary second glance at her. Yep. She gazed back at him as steadily and as trustfully as she ever had. Just as she had yesterday, when they’d…exchanged vows.

All at once, Daniel’s wedding rushed back to him, complete with Eli’s shenanigans, Sarah’s prettiness and that disturbing thing she’d said after he’d carried her inside the house.

Now I believe we’re married.

Hell. They’d really done it. This was what it was like to find himself hitched. Carefully, Daniel considered things. It turned out he felt more married upon finding a bride in his bed than he had upon acting as a pack mule yesterday. He guessed that was just one way he and Sarah were different. Probably the only way. Aside from the obvious.

Without his permission, his gaze went to her bosom. From beneath the quilt, he could just glimpse the top of her—

“Good morning!” she said cheerfully.

Daniel whisked his gaze upward, still feeling on the wrong side of the situation. Sarah beamed back at him, limned by the dawn—which explained the angelic notion he’d experienced upon seeing her. She fairly crackled with alertness, while he felt barely capable of scratching his beard stubble.

“Oooh, you’re a slow riser. I wouldn’t have guessed that. Especially given how early you must wake up to get to your smithy. And how active Eli is. Why, he must keep you hopping! You’re probably busy from sunup to sundown, aren’t you?”

He blinked. Lord, she was a talker. Was she always so…awake in the mornings? He’d seen roosters with less vigor, and they were responsible for waking folks.

“I’ve been awake for ages,” she said, wiggling a little beneath the quilt. She sighed happily. “Waiting for you. After last night, I thought we’d—”

“I don’t want to talk about last night.”

At his hasty tone, her eyes widened. “Why not? It was ever so promising, until you—”

“Stop.” Hell. What had he done? He had to fix it somehow. But in the meantime… “I need time to think.”

At her abashed look, guilt swamped him.

“I mean, wake up. No more talking.”

Wrinkling her nose in puzzlement, Sarah complied. Grudgingly. Her silence lasted approximately as long as it took Daniel to realize he was naked beneath the linens. Naked! With Sarah! Not that sleeping in the altogether was unusual for him, but…hell. He and Sarah spent their time talking and fishing and dunking each other in Morrow Creek. Not lying comfortably abed after a night spent…doing things he couldn’t even recall.

“So,” she piped up, “if you don’t want to talk, what do you want to do?”

Immediately, several wicked suggestions leaped to mind. Ferociously, Daniel tamped them down. If Sarah had been an ordinary woman, things might have been different. He enjoyed a roll in the sheets as much as the next man—possibly more. But as it was, the two of them had a marriage to tend to. They couldn’t muddle the issue by lolling abed and behaving like two people who were besotted with one another.

“I want to get up,” he decided.

She looked stricken. For naught, as it turned out. Because no sooner had Daniel grabbed a handful of quilt to toss aside than he remembered. He was still naked. God forbid, Sarah might be naked, too! If he threw off the coverlet…

Tarnation. They might both need smelling salts.

He stayed put, frozen in the wake of Sarah’s confused gaze. The bed shrank to a cozier size, making him intimately aware of their nearness. And the potential for swooning. Not that Sarah had ever been particularly delicate. Typically, she was sturdy and sensible and extremely handy with a bamboo fishing rod. But she had turned all weepy on him yesterday. There was just no telling what getting hitched might have done to her.

Forlornly, he missed the old Sarah. The one who made sense.

“We could have a walk along the mountain trail after breakfast,” she suggested breezily. She snuggled deeper in the quilt, her unbound hair silky and tousled. “That would be nice. Of course we’ll have to go to church with my family this morning, too. I told my mama we’d collect Eli after services are over. But until then…”

He’d have sworn she fluttered her eyelashes at him. Suggestively. With all the feminine allure of a dance-hall girl. Befuddled by the very notion of Sarah doing something so unabashedly flirtatious, Daniel stared at her.

He’d never seen her with her hair loose like that, he realized. It looked nice. Soft. Touching it would be…

A mistake. Damn it. He had to concentrate. Unless his years of bachelorhood had made him incapable of ignoring a woman—any woman—in his bed.

She’s Sarah, he reminded himself sternly. Sarah.

“How did you get here?” he asked.

“Why…it happened last night. Don’t you remember?”

Was it his imagination, or did she suddenly seem to be hiding something? Frowning, Daniel tried to recall what had happened after he’d come home from Murphy’s saloon.

He had a vague recollection of finding Sarah in her nightgown. Of turning away, his face burning, while she scrambled barefoot to her own room. Of realizing, belatedly, that he should have been clearer on exactly whose chamber was whose. Although, come to think of it, he’d thought he’d done a good enough job of that.

He recalled further that he’d felt Sarah crawl in bed beside him sometime later. That he’d decided it would be better to deal with her in the morning when he hadn’t had quite so much whiskey. That he’d dreamed he’d felt her snuggle up to him sometime in the night.

That he’d dreamed he’d liked it.