place, just above his waist.
They stared at each other for a while, in the light of a waning moon filtering through a weather-grimed window.
Then she closed her eyes, puckered up, and waited.
Sawyer bit the inside of his lower lip, so he wouldn’t laugh. Then he placed his hand on the back of her head, very gently, and pressed her face toward his. He kissed her, worked her lips with his own until Piper sighed and opened to him.
He used his tongue. Carefully.
She moaned and slipped her arms around his neck.
He deepened the kiss slowly, because she was so obviously an innocent.
Piper whimpered, but she didn’t try to pull away.
It was Sawyer who did that. “Piper,” he said, his voice ragged from the strain of giving up what the rest of his body was demanding, “no more. I’m trying to do the right thing here.”
“I’d better go back to the other bed,” she said shyly.
“That might be a good idea,” Sawyer replied. He was hard as tamarack by then, and he didn’t want Piper to know it.
She left him, got back into the bed Clay had brought in from the ranch. The small distance between them seemed like miles to Sawyer, who fell back onto his pillows with a heavy sigh.
“Sawyer?” Piper said.
He probably sounded abrupt when he replied. “What?”
“I’ve never—” She fell silent, embarrassed again.
“I know,” he said more gently.
And after that, by some miracle, they both went to sleep.
* * *
P IPER ’ S EYES FLEW open when she realized it was morning, and she’d not only let Sawyer kiss her in the night, but she’d kissed him back. She sat up in her borrowed bed, pulling the covers up to her chin, and looked in his direction, but he wasn’t there.
She scrambled out from under the blankets, landed both feet on the icy floor, and made a dash for her bureau, where she rummaged for bloomers and a camisole. Clutching them in one hand, she grabbed her woolen dress, the one she’d planned on saving for really cold days, and stuck her head out the bedroom door.
Sawyer wasn’t in the schoolroom—he must have gone outside, to the privy.
Piper dressed in seconds, fumbling, hopping about, nearly tripping over her hem in the process, and then did what she could with her hair, winding it into a single plait and twisting it around the back of her head, where she secured it with hairpins.
The schoolroom was warm—Sawyer must have built up the fire—and the delicious aroma of fresh coffee filled the air. She went to the window, looked out. The snow was nearly gone, but she barely took note of that because she spotted Sawyer, dressed and talking amiably with Doc Howard, who didn’t get down off his mule. The poor animal was muddy to its knees.
Piper saw Doc smile and nod his head, and she ducked back from the window quickly, hoping he hadn’t seen her.
What was Sawyer saying out there?
Her cheeks flamed so hot that she pressed her palms to her face, trying to cool them down. Surely Sawyer wasn’t asking Doc Howard to fetch a preacher, so he and the schoolmarm could “get hitched,” she thought frantically. Yes, they’d talked about marriage, and it had seemed like a viable idea at the time, but in the bright light of day it was—well, it was insane, that’s what it was. It was out of the question.
She remembered the kiss, felt the heat and pressure on her mouth as surely as if Sawyer’s mouth was on hers right then.
Her heart pounded, and bolts of fiery lightning shot through her, weakening her knees, melting parts of her that were too personal even to think about.
She was wanton, she concluded, horrified. She’d not only gotten into bed with Sawyer McKettrick the night before, she’d let him kiss her. Let him? She’d as good as thrown herself at the man, and then she’d carried on. In fact, if Sawyer hadn’t sent her back to her own bed, she might have been swept away.
Things, she decided, could not possibly get worse.
Except that they did, and almost immediately.
Sawyer
They stared at each other for a while, in the light of a waning moon filtering through a weather-grimed window.
Then she closed her eyes, puckered up, and waited.
Sawyer bit the inside of his lower lip, so he wouldn’t laugh. Then he placed his hand on the back of her head, very gently, and pressed her face toward his. He kissed her, worked her lips with his own until Piper sighed and opened to him.
He used his tongue. Carefully.
She moaned and slipped her arms around his neck.
He deepened the kiss slowly, because she was so obviously an innocent.
Piper whimpered, but she didn’t try to pull away.
It was Sawyer who did that. “Piper,” he said, his voice ragged from the strain of giving up what the rest of his body was demanding, “no more. I’m trying to do the right thing here.”
“I’d better go back to the other bed,” she said shyly.
“That might be a good idea,” Sawyer replied. He was hard as tamarack by then, and he didn’t want Piper to know it.
She left him, got back into the bed Clay had brought in from the ranch. The small distance between them seemed like miles to Sawyer, who fell back onto his pillows with a heavy sigh.
“Sawyer?” Piper said.
He probably sounded abrupt when he replied. “What?”
“I’ve never—” She fell silent, embarrassed again.
“I know,” he said more gently.
And after that, by some miracle, they both went to sleep.
* * *
P IPER ’ S EYES FLEW open when she realized it was morning, and she’d not only let Sawyer kiss her in the night, but she’d kissed him back. She sat up in her borrowed bed, pulling the covers up to her chin, and looked in his direction, but he wasn’t there.
She scrambled out from under the blankets, landed both feet on the icy floor, and made a dash for her bureau, where she rummaged for bloomers and a camisole. Clutching them in one hand, she grabbed her woolen dress, the one she’d planned on saving for really cold days, and stuck her head out the bedroom door.
Sawyer wasn’t in the schoolroom—he must have gone outside, to the privy.
Piper dressed in seconds, fumbling, hopping about, nearly tripping over her hem in the process, and then did what she could with her hair, winding it into a single plait and twisting it around the back of her head, where she secured it with hairpins.
The schoolroom was warm—Sawyer must have built up the fire—and the delicious aroma of fresh coffee filled the air. She went to the window, looked out. The snow was nearly gone, but she barely took note of that because she spotted Sawyer, dressed and talking amiably with Doc Howard, who didn’t get down off his mule. The poor animal was muddy to its knees.
Piper saw Doc smile and nod his head, and she ducked back from the window quickly, hoping he hadn’t seen her.
What was Sawyer saying out there?
Her cheeks flamed so hot that she pressed her palms to her face, trying to cool them down. Surely Sawyer wasn’t asking Doc Howard to fetch a preacher, so he and the schoolmarm could “get hitched,” she thought frantically. Yes, they’d talked about marriage, and it had seemed like a viable idea at the time, but in the bright light of day it was—well, it was insane, that’s what it was. It was out of the question.
She remembered the kiss, felt the heat and pressure on her mouth as surely as if Sawyer’s mouth was on hers right then.
Her heart pounded, and bolts of fiery lightning shot through her, weakening her knees, melting parts of her that were too personal even to think about.
She was wanton, she concluded, horrified. She’d not only gotten into bed with Sawyer McKettrick the night before, she’d let him kiss her. Let him? She’d as good as thrown herself at the man, and then she’d carried on. In fact, if Sawyer hadn’t sent her back to her own bed, she might have been swept away.
Things, she decided, could not possibly get worse.
Except that they did, and almost immediately.
Sawyer
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