Duncan's Bride by Linda Howard Page B

sandwiches.”
    â€œHow far is the nearest market? And don’t tell me I’m going to have to go to Billings.”
    â€œThere’s a general store about twenty miles from here. It isn’t a supermarket, but you can get the basics there. I’ll take you there day after tomorrow. I can’t do it tomorrow because I’ve got more fencing to repair before I can move the herd.”
    â€œJust give me directions. I don’t think the food situation will wait until the day after tomorrow.”
    â€œI don’t want you out wandering around,” he said flatly.
    â€œI won’t be wandering. Just give me the directions.”
    â€œI’d rather you wait. I don’t know how reliable the car is yet.”
    â€œThen I can take the truck.”
    â€œI said I’ll take you day after tomorrow, and that’s that.”
    Fuming, she went upstairs and took a shower. Why on earth was he so intractable? The way he’d acted, she might as well have said she was going to find a bar and spend the day in it. But then, that might have been what his first wife had done. Even if it were true, Madelyn was determined that she wasn’t going to spend her life paying for April’s sins.
    She finished unpacking her clothes, hanging most of her New York clothes in the closet in another bedroom, since she wouldn’t have much use for them now. It still made her feel strange to see her clothes in the same closet with a man’s; she’d shared room, closet and clothes in college, but that was different. This was serious. This was a lifetime.
    One thing about getting up at four-thirty: she was already sleepy, and it was only eight. Of course, she was still feeling the effects of not getting enough sleep for the past two weeks, as well as a very active day, but she could barely hold her eyes open.
    She heard Reese come upstairs and go into their bedroom; then he called, “Maddie?” in a rougher voice than usual.
    â€œIn here,” she called.
    He appeared in the doorway, and his eyes sharpened as he took in the clothes piled on the bed. “What’re you doing?” There was an oddly tense set to his shoulders.
    â€œI’m hanging the clothes I won’t use in here, so they won’t clutter up our closet.”
    Maybe it was only her imagination, but he appeared to relax. “Are you ready to go to bed?”
    â€œYes, I can finish this tomorrow.”
    He stood aside to let her get past him, then turned out the light and followed her down the hall. Madelyn was barefoot and in another thin gown much like the one she’d worn the night before, and she got that dwarfed, suffocated feeling again, sensing him so close behind her. The top of her head would just reach his chin, and he had to weigh at least two hundred pounds, all of it muscle. It would be easy to let herself be intimidated by him, especially when she thought of lying beneath him on that big bed. She would be going to bed with him like this for the rest of her life. Maybe he had doubts about the longevity of their marriage, but she didn’t.
    It was easier this time. She lay in his muscular arms and felt the warmth grow under his stroking hands. But now that she was less nervous she sensed something wrong, as if he were keeping part of himself separate from their lovemaking. He touched her, but only under strict control, as if he were allowing himself only so much enjoyment and not a bit more. She didn’t want those measured touches, she wanted his passion. She knew it was there, she sensed it, but he wasn’t giving it to her.
    It still hurt when he entered her, though not as much as before. He was gentle, but he wasn’t loving. This was the way he would have treated either of those other two women he’d been willing to marry, she thought dimly, as a body he’d been given the use of, not as a warm, loving woman who needed more. This was only sex, not making love. He made her