Mistletoe Marriage Page 2

  My sister knew of Simpson as well—she'd grown up with him, too—and was eager to send me off just to have the man arrested. If I could help Hargraves do that, she was willing to forego the holiday with me.

  I would have ridden directly to Julia's small house upon arrival in town, but I wanted to ensure Hargraves found Simpson and put him into custody. While he was a competent and very experienced bounty hunter, I didn't want to take any chances and allow Simpson to escape, especially if he were guilty of the crimes of which he was accused. We rode to his mansion and tied our horses to the rail out front. Hargraves pounded on the door, but there was no answer. He tried the door. Unlocked.

  We stood inside the doorway, looked around. “Simpson!” I shouted.

  We heard noise from above. Within seconds, Simpson came to the top of the stairs and grinned down at us. “You're too late, Rivers,” he said as he came down the steps. “She's mine and there's nothing you can do about it.”

  I frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Miss Talbot.” Simpson ran his hand over his chin. “Mrs. Simpson now.”

  He'd said things for two decades to rile me and I didn't believe him. Like hell Julia would marry Simpson. I knew her character well enough to know she would not accept a proposal from him. If Julia were his wife, she'd be in the house with him. I strode past him, bumping his shoulder on the way.

  “Mr. Gregory Simpson?” I heard Hargraves question.

  Instead of responding, Simpson followed me, his footsteps loud behind me.

  “Julia!” I called out from the parlor.

  “She's upstairs in the bedroom,” he replied with a casual helpfulness. That meant only one thing...that he was telling the truth. Dread filled my gut as I took in his loosened neck tie and lack of jacket. The placket on his pants was partially undone.

  “Julia!”

  I took the steps two at a time and stopped in my tracks when I saw Julia standing in a doorway. She was doing up the top few buttons on her dress and her red rimmed eyes widened with surprise. Shit. Fuck. Simpson had told the truth. She'd married him! No. No, that couldn't be right. Surely there was some mistake, but she was righting her appearance.

  “Garrett, oh God, Garrett.” She took a step toward me, then paused, her hands flexing at her sides. It was as if she wanted to reach out to me but was restraining herself. “I...didn't want it to happen,” she cried, looking over my shoulder and I knew Simpson was behind me. One look at him and she burst into tears. “I'm...I'm so sorry.” No wonder she wouldn't touch me. She belonged to another. She belonged to Simpson.

  I turned, grabbed Simpson by the shirt and slammed him into the wall. Paintings bounced with the impact. Rage took over and I could see nothing but destroying this man. He hated me, and had used Julia to hurt me. It was working.

  “What the fuck did you do?”

  He seemed nonplussed. “I married her.”

  I turned my head to Julia and she nodded. Based on the way she was crying and wringing her hands, she had been somehow coerced into the union. “Has he hurt you?” Has he touched you? Has he taken your innocence?

  She shook her head, but considering how upset she was, I didn't know if he'd raped her or not. It would be rape, for Julia would not willingly let Simpson touch her. We'd talked about what it would be like between us, for the attraction and desire had been obvious and heady, but I hadn't even kissed her. Yet. I'd told her of the many dark and carnal things we'd share, but I wouldn't touch her until we were wed. She’d known and accepted this, but based on of our conversations of late, she was as eager as I to consummate our relationship.

  “The sheriff, he performed the...service.” Simpson's voice was rough and he was breathing hard. I wanted him to not breathe at all.

  “We were about to...he was going to—” she shrugged one delicate shoulder and looked away “—use me when you interrupted.”

  I growled, the sound erupting from deep in my chest. He'd taken something from me that was more precious than anything else, the action more hurtful than anything he'd ever done to me. This was worse than when he’d broken my arm or diverted the creek away from my property.

  “Punch me. It won't change the fact that Julia Talbot is my bride.”

  Hargraves cleared his throat. I hadn't even realized he'd come upstairs with us. My only hope was that he'd arrest Simpson and see him hanged for his crimes. Only then would Julia be free of him.

  I released my hold and stepped back, taking deep breaths to calm myself.

  “Mr. Simpson, you're under arrest for robbery and murder,” Hargraves said.

  I ignored bounty hunter and whatever he planned to do with Simpson, for the man could take care of himself. Instead, I went to Julia. She held up her hands to ward me off, shaking her head. “No, Garrett. Please. It's true. I'm married to him. There's nothing you can do.”

  Pausing, I grudgingly heeded her words.

  “I...I couldn't bear it if you touched me now,” she murmured. Her voice was rough and I ached for her.

  I fisted my hands. “I'll wait for him to hang.”

  She shook her head, the look of pure desolation on her face. Her cheeks held no color; her lips were pinched. “Between this and what lies he spread about me, I...it's too much. I have no place to live, no job. He's...he's my husband. I have no choices.”

  Lies? I could only imagine what he'd done in the two weeks I'd been away, but clearly it had been enough to destroy her life.

  “You have no proof,” Simpson told Hargraves.

  “Sir, it's not my job to have proof, only to bring you before the circuit judge.”

  “You can't mean that, precious,” I murmured, keeping my eyes on Julia. There were two different conversations happening at the same time and all I cared about was Julia. Simpson was Hargraves' responsibility now. “There's nothing you've done, nothing that he's done to you, that will keep me from wanting you.”

  Tears spilled down her cheeks and I itched to wipe them away. I took a step closer, but she stepped back, as if afraid. “If you touch me, I won't be able to survive. Wanting you and not being able to have you is going to be impossible to endure.”

  “You'll be detained until he comes to town, Mr. Simpson,” Hargraves said. “You're coming with me. Now.”

  “No, I'm not.”

  Simpson moved and grabbed hold of Julia, tugging her in front of him. It was a surprising move and very quick. I hadn't even had time to reach her first.

  I tried to calm the panic I felt upon seeing Simpson's hands on Julia.

  “Let her go, Simpson,” Hargraves told him.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I countered, moving to grab Julia away from him.

  The man pulled a knife from his boot, all the while tugging Julia with him. This knife was large enough to hurt or even kill Julia. The fact that he kept something so lethal in his boot only confirmed the man was much more sinister than I expected, or that he ever let on. It was hard to remain calm when Julia was in such grave danger.

  Her tears had dried up, but her eyes widened and she pinched her lips together until they turned white. Her hands pushed on the arm wrapped around her waist, but he was too strong.

  “Garrett,” she whispered, her voice rough with fear when the tip of the knife grazed her neck.

  “Easy, precious,” I soothed.

  “Simpson, let her go. You don't want to make this harder on yourself,” Hargraves said, his gun trained on both Simpson and Julia. Shit, I didn't think the man would harm an innocent woman to capture his bounty, but seeing the weapon trained on Julia had me sweating beneath my heavy coat.

  “Like you said, I'm already wanted for murder. What's another one?”

  Simpson was insane. He didn't care one fucking bit about Julia and would kill her to spite Hargraves and to continue the feud with me. Having Simpson married to Julia was bad enough, but seeing her murdered would destroy me.

  “Hargraves,” I said, my voice deep with warning.

  �
�Put the knife down or I'm going to shoot you, Simpson,” Hargraves promised.

  The bastard grinned, his hand shaking slightly and the knife nicked Julia's neck. She winced and I watched as her blood trickled down her neck.

  “Easy, precious,” I said again, keeping my eyes on her. “Do you trust me?”

  She looked at me, and then licked her lips. “Yes.”

  “Good girl,” I replied.

  “You're too much of a coward to fight like a man,” Hargraves told Simpson, taunting him and trying to turn his attentions away from Julia.

  Simpson's eyes flared in renewed anger, but because of the bounty hunter instead of me. The knife moved away from Julia's throat. Hargraves' plan was working.

  “Remember all the things you told me about, that we'd do together?” Julia asked me.

  “Shut your mouth, bitch,” Simpson hissed. Julia winced as he tightened his arm about her.

  I had to think about it for a moment, what I'd said to her. I tried to clear my mind of the scene before me, and I remembered. I'd stroked her cheek and whispered what I wanted to do to her, with her. I'd told her how I'd kiss her mouth, her breasts, her pussy; how my cock would fill her up, my seed marking her inside and out. I then told her how I wanted to see her wipe a drop of seed off the corner of her mouth, knowing she'd swallowed almost all of it down. She'd responded to my every word, her eyes brightening, her cheeks turning pink and her breathing becoming shallow. I'd wanted to kiss her then; she'd wanted it, too, but I vowed to protect her virtue until we were wed. In this moment, I didn't give a damn about her virtue or my honor.

  I nodded. “Hell, yes.”

  “I want...wanted to do all of that with you,” she admitted.

  “I told you to shut your mouth!” Simpson shouted.

  “You need to hide behind a weak woman?” Hargraves taunted, trying to turn Simpson away from Julia.

  “We will. I promise. But listen to me,” I told her.

  “You have no idea what I've done. I'm not weak,” Simpson hissed. Sweat dripped down his temples.

  I kept my eyes squarely on Julia. “Listen,” I repeated. “Do exactly as I say.”

  She gave the slightest of head nods.

  I tried to remain calm, to let Hargraves do his job, but I'd never felt more helpless in my life.

  “Weak enough to be caught,” Hargraves countered. “You're pathetic, Simpson.”

  It all happened so fast after that. Simpson took a step toward Hargraves and his hold on Julia loosened.

  “Drop to the floor,” I shouted and Julia paused for only the briefest of moments before doing as I said.

  Hargraves fired, the loud report hurting my ears.

  Simpson's eyes widened as a bloodstain bloomed on his chest.

  I strode to Julia and pulled her away from Simpson just before he fell to the floor. His breathing was labored and I couldn't miss the death rattle. Nothing was going to save him. I tucked Julia close into me and turned so she couldn't see the dying man, the man who'd forced her to marry him.

  She was shaking and I rubbed my hand up and down her back in the hopes of soothing her, but the gesture was more to soothe me. She was whole and she was in my arms. Her scent enveloped me and I knew I'd never let her go again.

  The gasping ceased.

  “He's gone,” Hargraves said from behind my back. “Everyone all right?”

  I pushed Julia away from me and bent down to look at her neck. The cut there didn't appear to be more than a nick and it had stopped bleeding. “Are you hurt?”

  Julia shook her head. “No. I'm...I'm fine.”

  I stroked her cheek and exhaled. “You are. You're just fine,” I repeated, my voice as calm as I could make it. “Hargraves, you'll take care of Simpson?”

  “Absolutely. It makes it easier for me that he's dead. I can get a good night sleep at the hotel instead of in the jail.”

  “Good, because I've got a bride to marry.”

  Julia shook her head. “I...I can't. I'm married to Mr. Simpson.”

  “No, you're not. You're his widow and you can marry again. This time, you're going to marry me.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  JULIA

  What happened to the innocent mind of the schoolteacher? In only a few short months, my thoughts had shifted from math primers to every decadent promise Garrett had whispered to me. They were promises, I knew, for he was a man who kept his promises. That meant that my wedding night was going to be incredible. I never knew my nipples could pebble and my breasts ache at just the thought of his hands touching them. I had no idea my woman's flesh could become swollen from arousal. I had no idea that my nightgown would chafe my skin, sensitive and eager for a man's hands. Garrett's hands. His mouth, too. And his...his cock.

  As I fell asleep, I thought of the last thing he said to me before we parted. “My cock, precious, is hard for you. It's been hard since the first time I saw you. Only you can satisfy it. Soon.”

  ***

  Somehow Garrett had me bundled up and out the back door without seeing Mr. Simpson's body on the ground. While the air outside was frigid with the sun having set and the snow falling heavily, there was no scent of gunfire. Garrett's strong arm was wrapped around my waist and he kept it there as we walked into town.

  So much had happened in the past few hours that my brain was muddled. The fact that Mr. Simpson was dead—dead!—made it all unbelievable. But it had happened, and while Garrett hadn't rescued me before I could marry Mr. Simpson, he'd come close enough. I'd only been married over an hour and I was a widow. “What will happen now with Mr. Simpson?” I asked. The street was empty, for it was too cold to linger.

  “They'll store his body for the winter, then bury him come spring thaw.” He stopped walking and turned me to face him. “You said he didn't hurt you, but you were in his bedroom. I have to know the truth, precious.”

  I shuddered at the thought of Mr. Simpson's hands on me. “He didn't hurt me. That's the truth.”

  “His pants were undone and you were doing up your dress,” he countered.

  “I'll understand if you've changed your mind.” Pain lanced my heart if he rejected me now. “What you saw can't be undone. My virtue really is in tatters.”

  He grabbed me by the shoulders. “Whatever he did to you doesn't matter. Did you want him to touch you?” His voice was sharp.

  I shook my head fiercely. “No. Of course not.”

  He sighed. “Then tell me. I don't want this between us. I don't want to scare you when I have you alone.”

  I took a deep breath. “He told me to undo my dress as he watched, but he got agitated. He took off his coat, undid the front of his pants, put his hand inside.”

  He waited patiently for me to continue, but his hands tightened. “He was touching himself but he was getting angry. It didn't seem it was directed at me. He told me I wasn't pretty enough for him to rise to the occasion. Then you banged on the door.”

  Garrett dropped his hands and laughed.

  “I...I don't know what that means,” I added.

  “It doesn't matter. It's over now.”

  He took my arm and we continued on. He seemed reassured by my words, which put me at ease. “You don't worry after what you saw?” I asked. “My virtue?”

  “No, Julia. I'm not worried.”

  “His sister took my job as schoolteacher. His father is the one who pushed for my dismissal based on the lies his son spread about me. Surely they will not be pleased with his demise.”

  “The man was a wastrel. Mr. Simpson, Senior, has too much money, which allowed Gregory to avoid a day’s work. Obviously his boredom led to illegal activities to fill the time. Why a man of his wealth and stature got involved in such crime, I have no idea.”

  “Surely his sister will want that big mansion to live in instead of the small schoolteacher's house.”

  I felt his hand squeeze my hip through my coat. “Unless he made a will, that house probably belongs to you now.”

  I stopped in
my tracks and I looked up at Garrett. It was too dark to see much of his face, especially with the wide brim of his hat. The snow fell cold against my cheeks. “Me? Why on earth would it be mine? Why on earth would I want the place after all that's happened?”

  “Whether you want it or not is irrelevant. By marrying you, you're his next of kin, so everything he owned becomes yours.”

  I shook my head. The idea of living in his dreary mansion set my teeth on edge. Everything about the man made me nauseous. “I don't want it.”

  He started us moving again. “All right.”

  We walked in silence for a stretch. “If you marry me—”

  “When, precious. Not if, because we're almost to the church now.”

  “When you marry me, all my worldly possessions become yours.”

  “Yes, that's true.”

  “Until a few minutes ago, that was only the clothes on my back and a few dollars tucked away. I didn't even have a place to live. Now, though, everything of Mr. Simpson's will become yours.” I bit my lip. “You aren't...aren't going through with this just to obtain his property.”

  Garrett stopped in his tracks and I felt his body stiffen beneath my hand. “I should take you over my knee for that ridiculous comment. I won't even respond to it. Instead, I'll do this.”

  Lowering his head, he kissed me. It was almost too dark to see him coming and he'd taken me by complete surprise. He'd never once done anything so bold, taking exactly what he wanted. It had me gasp in surprise. Because of that, his tongue—yes, his tongue!—slipped into my mouth and touched mine. His lips were cold, but he was making me warm, so warm beneath my coat.

  I expected—what had I expected kissing Garrett to be like?—firm lips and a quick peck on the mouth. This, this, was not that at all. His mouth plundered, claiming mine, all but taking my breath away and stealing every thought from my mind. I gave in to it, letting the feelings his kiss elicited wash over me.