Montana Untamed by Ramona Flightner

Author:Ramona Flightner [Flightner, Ramona]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781945609107
Publisher: Grizzly Damsel Publishing
Published: 2018-02-12T18:00:00+00:00

Annabelle laid in his arms, her back to his front, shivering with delight as his callused fingers played over her shoulders and back. “Is it always like this?” she whispered.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his breath tickling her ear. He felt her stiffen, and then he groaned as he eased away from her so she could scoot and face him. He traced a finger over the wrinkles between her brows before kissing them away.

“What is it like for my sister?”

He froze in his movements, pulling back to meet her embarrassed gaze. “Not like this.” He cupped her cheek. “I …” He swore softly. “I think you’d have to ask her.”

“Did you ever visit the Boudoir?”

He nodded, his shoulders tensing as he answered her. “Aye. A few times.” He waited as he saw her attempt and fail to ask a question. “I was never with your sister, Belle.” He felt her relax incrementally in his arms. “I never felt like I do with you.”

“What do you mean?”

He pushed away, flopping onto his back. He stared at the ceiling and shook his head. “Never, not once in my life, did I imagine having such a conversation with you.” He looked at her with fond exasperation. “I should have known better.”

She bent her head. He tugged her to lean her head on his shoulder and played with the ends of her tangled black hair. “I went to the Boudoir on nights I felt I was drowning in loneliness. When I thought I’d never know happiness again. And, for a moment, I didn’t feel alone.”

“So it helped,” she whispered.

He closed his eyes. “When it was over, I always felt guilty and lonelier than when I arrived. It’s why my visits were infrequent.” He moved so he lay on his side and faced her. “With you, Belle”—he paused as his eyes glowed—“the loneliness doesn’t return.”

She smiled as she leaned forward and kissed him. “Thank you for answering my questions. I never thought to be able to speak to my husband like this.” A rosy flush covered her exposed skin.

He laughed and leaned on an elbow. “What were your parents like? Did your father treat your mother well?”

Annabelle froze a moment before letting out a stuttering breath. “My father was strict. Liked to have his home and life organized. If something was out of place, we were punished.”

“Punished?” He traced a finger over her shoulder.

“Slapped knuckles, no supper. Or he would forbid us from reading.” She closed her eyes. “That was the worst. I loved to read and to escape to another place.” She shrugged. “He thought it led to dangerous ideas and that I should be content with what I have. ‘Dreams only lead to disaster.’” She shared a chagrined smile with her husband. “That was his favorite phrase.”

“How sad.” He kissed her softly. “An’ your mother?”

“Did everything in her power to please him. Kept a tidy home. Had dinner on the table at six o’clock sharp every night. Never said a word against any of his decrees.

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