Free Rocky Mountain Bride (Rocky Mountain Bride Series Book 2) by Lee Savino Page B

over her food.
    She woke from her daze when Miles stood. “Bedtime, Carrie.” Gentle hands guided her to the bed, where she sank into the delicious feather mattress. Her body felt heavy.
    “You’re tired from all the excitement.” Miles grinned down at her, and the sight was so beautiful she thought it was a dream.
    “I’m cold,” she said, and he tucked the woolen blanket around her.
    “Sleep now, sweet Carrie.”
    He started to turn away, and she reached out and caught hold of his shirt. “Stay with me.”
    Her vision filled with his gentle smile, and then his face and the firelight all blended together and she slept.
     
    *****
     
    She woke in the middle of the night and felt her husband’s solid warmth at her back. Outside the cabin, the noises of the wilderness sang in scary cacophony, but for the first time in a long time, she felt perfectly safe.
    As she snuggled into the blankets, his hand drifted around her and lingered just above her waist. She could feel its heat on her skin through her chemise, and she waited for it to move higher or lower and stir up the quiet blaze inside her, but Miles simply pulled her closer, and after a while, she fell back asleep.
    In the morning, she felt him move and rolled to face him.
    “Good morning, Mr. Donovan.”
    “Good morning, Mrs. Donovan.” He smiled at her, and she thrilled at the sight. “I best feed the horses.”
    She smiled. “I best get the eggs.”
    He pulled her up and waited until she tested her foot and proved she could walk on it before ducking out the door.
    Halfway down the path, he looked back at her. “Need any help with that gate?”
    “Not today.” She kept her smile, and sauntered off towards the garden.
    When he strode back into the cabin, Carrie was bent over the fire, making biscuits. “Breakfast’s almost done,” she called to him. Esther gave me some of her starter. I’ll be able to make bread tomorrow, if you give me leave to open a new bag of flour.” She pulled the skillet from the fire and put it on the table. As she straightened, she felt a prickle up her spine. Her new husband stood at her back, his fingers sifting through her hair.
    She turned around with a question on her face.
    “Forgive me. I just…” He let the curl drop and backed up. “Your hair. You usually pull it back.”
    She bit her lip. “Do you prefer it up?” Stepping forward, she bent her head into the few inches between them, forehead almost touching his chest. At her invitation, he took a handful of her hair and let it slide through his fingers, lifting the chestnut strands as if it was a finest thread that he’d ever seen.
    “Or do you prefer it this way, Mr. Donovan?” Her voice went low and husky.
    “Miles. Call me Miles.”
    “Miles,” she whispered.
    “Carrie,” he said, before he bent his head and kissed her.
    It started gentle, but then she felt the pull of his lips. Sighing, she went up on tiptoe, and he cupped her head and held her captive to his plundering mouth. She let her hands roam over his shoulders then down his hard body to snake around his waist.
    When their lips finally broke apart, they both gasped for breath. Carrie pressed her body into his and whimpered.
    He drew her back to the bed and pulled her on top of him in a puff of flour, holding her head still for his deep, searching kisses.
    His hands pulled off her apron, then reached under her skirts to knead her bottom. She gasped as his rough fingers caught on her silky skin.
    He drew back frowning. “You all right?”
    “Yes.” She pressed herself to him. “Just sore.”
    “Oh yes.” He caught her lips and kissed them again. “I remember now.” With a sudden move, he rolled her over and pushed up her skirts. She grabbed the woolen blanket, but he only kissed the bruises and marks he’d left on her.
    “There,” he said, laying down beside her to tease her hair again, smoothing it into a fine chestnut sheet. “The skin is healing fine. I’d never truly hurt you,