Free A Texas Christmas by Jodi Thomas, Linda Broday, Phyliss Miranda Page B

robe opened an inch, then two as she moved down the buttons. When she’d opened almost to her waist, she leaned back against his arm and closed her eyes.
    He couldn’t move. He had trouble believing she was in his arms waiting for him to touch her where he was sure no other man ever had. He’d never touched a woman like this. He’d doctored Danni when she’d come to him that first night bleeding and cut, but there had been no enjoyment in it. To touch Maggie now for no other reason than to give and take pleasure seemed a luxury beyond any he’d known.
    Leaning down, he touched his lips to hers, loving the way she smiled before opening her mouth slightly. He straightened and moved his hand down the opening of her robe. Her skin was softer than he’d expected. Slowly, he slipped his fingers over the rise of her breast as he watched her face.
    When his hand covered one breast, she arched toward the warmth of it and made a little sound, but she didn’t move away. She was so perfect, he thought. As he gripped her in his hand, he covered her mouth with his and kissed her deeply so the next sound she made was smothered. For a while he was lost in the need to hold her, touch her, taste her. She kissed him back, but she didn’t move otherwise. Her hands remained tightly clasped at her waist.
    He raised his head when he finally became aware of her stillness. “Are you all right?” he said, his fingers still caressing her.
    “Yes,” she answered, her words unsteady. “Is this thing done between husbands and wives?”
    “I think so.” He moved his hand away.
    She straightened, sitting up in his lap. “Not in the mornings, I’d think. Otherwise no one would get to work on time.”
    He laughed. “So you liked it?”
    She began buttoning her robe. “I did. Would you mind doing it again tonight, please?”
    “I’d love to, Maggie, if it pleases you.” He loved the honesty of this woman. Kissing her forehead, he added, “It pleased me greatly to touch you so. The softness of—”
    “Samuel,” she interrupted. “I don’t think we should speak of such things.”
    He smiled. “As long as we do them, I think I can refrain from talking about it.”
    “Fair enough,” she said.
    When she slipped off his lap, he let his hand move down her back and pat her bottom. “Is it all right to say you’re a beauty, my Maggie? A treasure to hold.” He saw the blush rise in her cheeks.
    “I’ll go get dressed now. Promise you won’t come up for five minutes.”
    He didn’t trust himself to answer, but he did manage a nod. He was too busy wondering if she blushed all over.
    When she came down a few minutes later she had on trousers tucked into boots and a man’s wool shirt, but nothing about her reminded him of a male. She stood on the first step and raised her arms. “How do I look? I’ve never worn trousers, but they seemed appropriate for shoveling snow.”
    “It’s still pretty cold out there. We may not get as much snow in the canyon as they do up top, but it is still just as cold.”
    “I was planning on my husband helping to warm me up when we’re finished.”
    “I can do that, if it’s what you want, but I’ll respect my shy wife’s request and not talk about the details.” He thought it funny that she would do things she couldn’t bring herself to talk about. Most men he knew talked about things they’d probably never do when it came to loving a woman.
    She laughed as if she’d read his mind.
    He walked to the bottom of the stairs, planning to pull her into his arms, but a pounding on the door stopped him.
    No one had ever knocked on his front door. The few who visited him from time to time always came to the back. Sam reached for his rifle and motioned Maggie to go back upstairs. Whoever came knocking on a day like this had to want to see him badly.
    He thought she might object to being ordered, but she ran up the stairs. With his hand on the lock, he glanced up to make sure she had vanished.
    “Who