Free Nellie (The Brides of San Francisco Book 1) by Cynthia Woolf Page B

you’re hurting me.”
    He stopped immediately.
    “I’m sorry, Nellie. I’m just so angry at your husband. If I saw him right now, I’m afraid I’d kill the man.”
    For some horrifying reason, she realized she was very pleased by his reaction to her abuse by Robert.
    He took her hair and started pulling his fingers through it. “I wondered what it would feel like. It’s silk. Thick…and soft.” His voice was soft, almost hypnotic.
    “I…um…thank you.” She was loathe to say anything to interfere with the moment. “Blake,” she whispered, her voice heavy, deep with an emotion she didn’t really understand. “We’ve got to dress. The children.”
    Her words were as if she’d dumped icy water over him.
    He dropped her hair. “Yes, of course. I’ll see you all at breakfast.” He left then.
    With a sigh, she wondered what might have been.
    *****
    The night of the dinner party arrived. Cook, James, and the rest of the staff outdid themselves.
    Nellie dressed with extra care in her new black evening gown. The design was the latest style, sleeveless and slightly off the shoulder. The bodice was the most daring she’d ever worn. She kept pulling it up, but her cleavage was still on display.
    She checked herself in the full-length cheval mirror in her bedroom.
    “Beautiful,” Blake’s deep baritone sounded behind her.
    She jumped, her heart pounded. “Blake. You startled me.”
    “I knocked but you were concentrating so hard on tugging up your neckline, you didn’t hear me.”
    She nodded. “Don’t you think it’s a bit low?”
    “Not compared to what I’m used to. It’s a very attractive dress, and you’ll be the envy of all the other wives. Here,” he handed her a long, skinny jewelry box. “I think they’ll look spectacular with that frock.”
    She opened the case and saw one large emerald pendant, the size of a robin’s egg on a delicate gold chain and two matching ear bobs.
    “Oh, Blake, they’re lovely, but I can’t accept such an extravagant gift.”
    “Of course, you can. You’re my wife and if I want to buy you nice jewelry, I will. Besides you can pass them down to Violet when she’s old enough.”
    She fingered the magnificent stone.
    “Help me put it on, please.” She handed him the necklace, then turned her back. There was no need to lift her hair. She’d styled it in a chignon at the back of her head.
    The stone hung about two inches above her décolletage. She fastened on the ear bobs then turned to Blake.
    “What do you think?”
    “You’re beautiful. Your eyes are the same deep shade as the emeralds.”
    Blake put his hands on her upper arms, fire burned where he touched. Then he leaned down and kissed her. The kiss was gentle at first, then deeper and more carnal. By the time he ended the kiss and leaned back, his arms were around her waist and her arms were wrapped around his neck.
    “Oh, my.” Heart pounding, she unwrapped her arms and touched her lips, no doubt swollen from such a spectacular mingling. “Oh, my.”
    He laughed. “Indeed.” He held his arm out for her, and together, they went down stairs to greet their guests.
    Cook had prepared a delightful menu for the evening consisting of turtle soup, salad of fresh greens from their garden, followed by roasted suckling pig and a chocolate torte for dessert. Conversation was lively, and consisted mostly of talk of the transcontinental railroad. Several of the men had invested in the Central Pacific Railroad and now speculated on its ability to beat the Union Pacific across the country. Still others were concerned with the shipping business and how the railroad would affect it.
    After dinner, the gentlemen retired to the library for brandy and cigars. Nellie took the ladies to the parlor for tea. They were having a lively conversation about Nellie’s dress and Paris fashion in general. Nellie was about to ask the women to talk to their husbands about the family emporium Blake wanted to build, when James