Free Lessie: Bride of Utah (American Mail-Order Bride 45) by Kristin Holt Page A

asked him to stop calling on her, he stopped.
    If his lady wife informed him she didn’t want to do this…
    Why not?
    Worry tiptoed through the gaping hole where his heart— or maybe his manhood— used to be. Had someone hurt her? This feisty, self-possessed, determined woman? This girl who protected her twin and had somehow provided for them both, despite challenges and threats and living hand-to-mouth?
    A woman who faced down her brother-in-law, a man twice her weight— likely more than double— and extracted a solemn promise to treat her twin sister with courtesy and protection in her absence?
    She’d been magnificent .
    Tenderness softened his disappointment and he wanted nothing more than to embrace her, rock her slowly, and assure her no one would ever hurt her again.
    She wouldn’t meet his gaze. She didn’t want his touch, and he didn’t know why.
    Pain sliced bone-deep. Moments ago, he’d reveled in the glory of her touch, her kisses, her spontaneous passion for him and the unbelievable spark between two people who still didn’t know one another well but wanted to.
    Eventually they would.
    That had to be enough, for now.
    “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I can’t do this.”
    He waited, hoping she’d say more. Tell me why not, Sweetheart. Talk to me.
    She remained silent, so he tried a simple question. “Did I do something wrong?”
    Maybe his hands had wandered, maybe she thought him fresh. “Something you didn’t like?”
    He’d have to take this slowly. And he would… if she ever let him touch her again.
    “No.” She looked at him then, directly in the eye, as if all embarrassment had been banished, shoved aside, dealt with.
    He loved her strength.
    She even smiled, a little. “You’re rather accomplished at kissing, Mr. Cannon.”
    That didn’t sound like a compliment. “Don’t know much at all, Mrs. Cannon, but I figure it’s instinct.”
    “I see.”
    “My instincts are finely honed when it comes to you. You’re my wife.”
    Maybe she just needed a little reminding. They had every right to explore their passions. His ring was on her finger. He had a certificate from the church, all recorded with the Territorial government. She was his .
    His to protect, to safeguard, to love.
    “Indeed I am.” She drew in a deep breath as if to fortify herself.
    He braced, sure he wasn’t going to like whatever she had to say next. If he learned about some idiot, some man or gang of men in Massachusetts, he’d round up a vigilante posse, he’d…
    “It’s all so overwhelming. So new.” Her tremulous smile struck him like a kick to the gut. “Would you mind, very much, if we stopped there? I’d be so much more comfortable if we took this slowly.”

 
     
     
     
    Chapter Nine
     

     
    “ I’d be so much more comfortable if we took this slowly.”
    So much for kissing her to distraction. Disappointment tasted bitter, indeed. Far more bitter because she’d told him no, twice.
    “I don’t want to do this.”
    “….more comfortable if we took this slowly.”
    “Just how slowly?” He tried to hide his exasperation. Hands on hips, he faced her, forced his breathing to slow, pretended this— this roadblock— was just another business setback.
    Only right now it felt like this was the most important business merger of his career, of his life .
    And because she mattered to him, because the beginning of this atypical marriage would set the tone for the coming months and years and decades together, he’d be wise to ensure they began well.
    If he’d learned anything by watching his aunt and uncle, marriage was all that two people chose to make it.
    Adam had been right in all his talk about choosing love, choosing romance, choosing to fall in love with his mail order bride. Richard, too, could choose the very best of marriages.
    “I don’t know.” Her hands tightened on the towel. “A few weeks? A month or two?”
    Months?
    Not on her life.
    “Maybe it would be best if I slept