Forty-Three

Samantha woke the next morning with the feel of the sunrise on her face. She buried herself deeper within the covers, cursing the curtains that had been left open to allow the morning light to assault her. Sleep was something she hadn't gotten much of last night.

A smile curved her lips as she felt Zachary's arm tighten around her middle and pull her back tight against him. A grumbling growl left his chest. Clearly Zachary wasn't ready to wake up and get out of bed just yet.

Samantha wasn't either but natures call would not be denied. She slid from his grasp and rose from the bed, grabbing her nightdress from the chair and slipping it on her bare body. Going to the changing screen, Samantha stepped behind it and relieved herself in the pot that waited there.

After cleansing herself in the cold bathwater from last night, she returned to the bed. Her husband quickly pulled her into his arms once again, this time she lay on her side facing him and rested her face against his chest. Her husband. Finally. Zachary Marston was her husband.

For so long her life had been nothing but running and fear—even before Clinton Matthews she had never known true security or contentment given her fathers addictions and poverty. But with Zachary that had changed. Zachary made her feel safe, warm, cherished, protected. He was everything she could have ever hoped for in a husband—and she knew that she had given just as much to him. She had made his life just as complete.

"We need to get to the cattle auction," Zachary's deep voice, still raspy with sleep announced as he pressed a kiss to her red curls.

"You have your new wife laying in your arms in the early morning sunrise and your first thought is of cattle?" Samantha teased.

A chuckle rumbled deep in his broad chest. "Oh there are plenty of other things on my mind," he assured her, squeezing her tighter. "But considering we just finished doing those things for the third time in a night less than two hours ago, I'm guessing we could both use a break."

Samantha sighed and lifted her head to kiss the bottom of his jaw. He was right. Her body was sore—it was a deliciously sated type of sore but sore nonetheless. And she was tired. She could simply remain curled up like this all day and do nothing but be held in Zachary's arms and sleep. That sounded like such a nice plan to her.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"Time for a nap." His pointed silence followed and Samantha grumbled under her breath before opening her eyes and looking over his shoulder at the grandfather clock that stood against the wall. "Seven-thirty."

"The auction starts at nine. We need to get dressed, get Tim and Eleanor, eat breakfast, and head that way."

"Do I have to come stare at cow asses all day?" Samantha muttered, pushing herself up to sit on the edge of the bed as she threw her legs over it.

Zachary chuckled, sitting beside her and tracing the delicate chain of the necklace that fell between her breasts. The gift he had given her to show the depth of his love. "You speak like such a lady," he teased. "And no, you don't have to. You and Eleanor could always go shopping for things we'll need for the houses."

A fear Samantha was not proud of gripped her. Wandering the city shopping without Zachary.... What if Clinton Matthews or one of his men were near. What if they found her...

She didn't realized that her breathing had become labored until Zachary was on his knees in front of her and urging her to look at him. She did just that. She lost herself in those deep brown eyes. He laid a hand on her cheek and she leaned against it, feeling her breaths growing calmer. "I'm sorry," she finally whispered, knowing that shame colored her cheeks.

Zachary shook his head. "You don't ever have to apologize to me."

"I don't like how weak he makes me... how afraid..."

She could see the anger in those dark eyes. Anger that was not directed at her but at the man who was after her—the man who had stolen his family from him and was a constant threat looming in the distance. Zachary breathed deep several times before speaking. "You are the strongest, bravest woman that I know. Do you know how often I've been in awe of you? The way you don't back down and stand up for those you care about?" Zachary smoothed a loose red curl behind her ear. "If you feel safe enough with your gun to shop with Eleanor, then go. If you don't, then I will go with you after the auction. You know I will always protect you, Samamtha."

"And you won't think of me as a coward if I say I'd rather wait until after the auction?"

He kissed her tenderly. "Never. Would you think of me as a coward if I said I was afraid of shopping and simply told the store keeps that price is no option and leave you to it."

Samantah fought back a smile and put her finger under his nose. "I've warned you that if you ever do that to me again, I'll kill you."

"Yes you did," he acknowledged. "And yet, I'm still trying."

"Stubbornness is not your finest quality."

Samantha stood up and went to the suitcase her clothes were stowed inside. Zachary was to her in an instant, his bare body all her eyes could focus on as he helped her dress. "What is my finest quality?" he asked, as he braided her hair. Samantha knew he loved these quiet moments of intimacy between them—and so did she.

Samantha glanced back at his nude body and winked while she bit her lip. "That backside is pretty nice."

His low growl filled the air as he finished the braid and spun her around, pulling her flush against him. "Is that right?"

Samantha was laughing as she swatted the topic of conversation and then slipped from his arms. "Get dressed, Mr. Marston. I'll go make sure Timothy and Eleanor are awake."

Grabbing her gun belt from beside the door, Samantha slipped from the room. She was fastening it around her hips when she felt eyes on her. Glancing up quickly, she looked down the hall but didn't see anyone—though a door did click closed as she glanced to the left. Had someone been watching her?

Samantha felt nerves dance in her stomach before scolding herself. She was safe. The odds of Clinton Matthews or one of the few men he had that would recognize her being here was slim to none. She had her gun, her wits, and her husband. Nothing in the world could harm her.

Going two doors down from her and Zachary's room, Samantha knocked on the door. Silence greeted her and stretched on. She knocked again.

"Who is it?" a very sleep and rather grumpy sounding Timothy called from inside.

"Your sister," Samantah replied with amusement. "Long night?"

The sound of rustling sheets came from the other side of the door and after a few moments it was pulled open and Samantha smiled at Timothy who was standing there in nothing but his trousers. He had lines on his sleepy face from his pillows and his blond hair was a mess atop his head. He looked exhausted—but happy and it made Samantha happy to see that.

"As much as I love you, sister, it isn't even eight in the morning." He let out a massive yawn. "What do you want?"

"Be polite, Tim."

He reddened a bit at Eleanor's scolding. "Sorry." He rubbed at his stubbled face. "What brings you here so early?"

She looked past time and offered Eleanor a wave which the other woman returned from deep within the blankets she was wrapped in. "Zachary wants everyone to get up and ready for breakfast. The cattle auction starts at nine."

"Cattle auction?" Timothy grumbled, rubbing at his eyes. He clearly wasn't a morning person. "The day after we get married and we're going to a cattle auction."

"That's right," Zachary's voice broke in as he came to stand behind Samantha and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Of have you forgotten that we own a ranch that we're trying to bring back to life?"

Tim grumbled under his breath. "I haven't forgotten. Just thought we'd have a bit more of a honeymoon..."

Zachary shrugged. "Then stay here and have your honeymoon. Sam and I can handle the cattle."

Timothy seemed tempted for a moment but then he sighed. "No, we're coming. The ranch is my responsibility too."

Samantha smiled. "Just meet us down at the hotel diner when you're ready."

Timothy offered another sleepy nod and closed the door. Samantha laughed light. "He certainly isn't a morning person."

Zachary chuckled, leading her down the hall. "Never has been. But he's right. We do need more of a honeymoon."

"What do you have in mind?"

Zachary stopped and pulled her body flush against him. Her breath caught in her chest as he lowered his mouth to hers. Barely brushing their lips together, Zachary smiled. "We take care of business today and stay another day or two locked up in our rooms."

Samantha trembled against him. "Sounds good to me, Mr. Marston."

***

Zachary unhooked his gun belt and tossed it in the chair by the bed once he and Samantha were locked inside their hotel room that evening. "I thought you loved me, Sam, but after shopping all day I'm having doubts."

Her laughter was like a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. Zachary had never been good with people. He liked quiet. He liked peace. The auction hadn't been bad until they'd realized who he was—or more so who his father had been—and then it had been nothing but bootlicking and kissing his ass in hopes he'd let loose more of his money.

Then had come the stores. Store after store. Furniture, decorations, household supplies... it had seemed as if the shopping trip would never end. Endless conversations tossed in his direction that he had tried his best to take part in—he honestly had. But by the end of the day he'd been done and it had been clear to him that Eleanor had been too—she seemed to share his dislike of shopping. Timothy and Samantha had seemed to enjoy themselves, however.

"You know I love you," she replied, laying her gun belt with his and kicking off her boots. Zachary sat on the edge of the bed and growled when Samantha sat herself down upon his lap, straddling him. She had let loose her red curls and they enveloped him as she kissed him softly. "And we needed everything we got today unless you want to sleep on floorboards and stumble around in the dark."

Zachary pulled her closer, loving the feel of her pressed so tight against his hardening cock. Damn, the woman did something to him that was unexplainable. His desire for her was never eased and every thought he ever had was for her. She had given him purpose and a reason to live. Samantha was his entire world and he would do anything to see her happy—even stand for hours in shops.

"All I need is a bedroll and moonlight," Zachary assured her, his hungry mouth finding her neck and nibbling at her soft skin. "And you."

Samantha threw her head back, granting him easier access to his feasting grounds. "Just how many days do we get to stay here in this room now that business is done?" she asked, her voice raspy with want.

Zachary would like to say forever. He'd like to stay in this room—this bed—and never leave. But deliveries would be arriving within a week and work had to be done. Still, there wasn't too big of a reason to rush back. "Two days."

"Better make the best of them," Samantha stated thoughtfully just before she jumped off his lap and moved across the room.

"Get back over here," Zachary growled, standing slowly.

She bit her full bottom lip and swung her hips to the side. Zachary clenched his fists. Samantha knew exactly what she was doing. She put her hands behind her and within moments her skirt was sliding down to the floor.

Zachary took a stride forward but she shook her head, those thick red curls bouncing around her face. "Stay."

He grumbled a bit at the way she commanded him the way she would have their puppy Creed but did as she said just the same. Hell, he was whipped just as bad as that dog by the woman—there was no point in denying that. He would do anything she ever asked of him—even if it caused him physical pain to simply stand and watch her undress without having his hands on her.

Samantha stepped out of her skirt, kicking her foot and tossing the fabric at him. Zachary caught it mid air and fought a smile as he tossed it aside. Next she undid her red blouse, sliding it from her shoulders, exposing the pale freckled skin that he had seared in his memory.

The shirt was the next thing he was catching midair but this he held onto squeezing it tight, fighting for control as she stood there in her satin chemise and her thin underclothes. He could see the outline of her nipples as her breasts pushed against the satin—begging him to touch them, taste them, send her to paradise.

"I want you, Samantha."

He saw her tremble at his words.

She ran her fingertip across her collarbone and then along the edge of her breasts causing Zachary to nearly lose himself right then. His cock was so tight in his pants it was causing pain but it was a delicious pain. A pain he would suffer again and again if it meant being here with Sam just like this.

Slowly she turned and as she bent to slide her underclothes down her legs, Zachary was awarded with a clear view of her backside as she presented it to him. His control snapped. Striding across the room, Samantah barely had time to let out a yelp of surprise before Zachary was to her.

She stood straight and spun to face him just in time for Zachary to stoop low and crush his mouth against hers. Instantly her arms went around his neck, her body molding against him. Zachary cupped her face with his hands, propelling their bodies backward until her back was against the wall.

Taking his mouth lower, Zachary licked, nipped and nibbled his way along her neck, drawing moans and whimpers from deep within her. Lower still he went, drawing her nipples into his mouth through the thin satin chemise she still wore.

Samantha's hands found his thick dark hair and he smiled against her as she pushed downward, urging him toward the destination he'd already had in mind.

Zachary dropped to his knee and lifted the thin white fabric, holding it in place against her hip as he held her in place. Using his free hand he pushed apart her folds and ran his tongue gently up and down her wetness, circling slowly around her clit and causing her legs to nearly buckle.

Zachary had become an expert at loving Samantha's body in their time together and in no time at all he was bringing her to release as she cried out and gripped his head tightly, holding him against her pulsing wet core. Slowly, the trembles and tremors began to subside and Zachary stood.

He lifted Samantha into his arms and carried to the bed, even as her fingers worked to undo the buttons of his shirt. Setting her down on the edge of the mattress, Zachary held up his hand. "Stay."

The corner of her mouth rose, and for a moment he lost himself in the beauty of her passion reddened face. "How long will you leave me waiting?" she asked, leaning back on her elbows and shoving her breasts forward while her legs fell open.

Zachary nearly choked. "Not a second too long," he vowed.

Sliding from his clothes, he felt her green eyes watching his every movement. Once he was fully undressed, Zachary hooked his finger and beckoned her closer. "Come here."

Rising from the bed, she sauntered his way and as soon as she was within arms distance, Zachary grabbed her and pulled her close. In one fluid motion, he took her by the hips, lifted her in the air and brought her down, impaling her on his aching cock.

Samantha cried out his name as she threw her head back, clinging to his shoulders. Zachary didn't waste time with slow and easy. There would be plenty of time for that late. For now, he took her hard and fast. His name left her lips with whimpers and pleas for him to keep going.

Bracing her against the wall, Zachary drove into her over and over. The pressure built in him and he knew his release would come soon. This woman always sent him over the edge in a hurry. Reaching between them, Zachary found her dripping core and pressing his thumb tight against her clit, keeping a steady pressure on it as he rotated his thumb back and forth.

It seemed that was the last bit of pleasure Samantha could stand. She cried out his name, no worry given if they disturbed the other guests, and as her walls tightened around him, his own release tore through him like an earthquake. Zachary grabbed her read curls, tilted her head up and kissed her hard as he poured himself inside her and his legs shook with the effort to stay standing.

The kisses turned gentler as they fell upon the bed, all wrapped up in each other. Zachary pushed her hair from her face and his lips traveled lightly across her brow and cheeks. "You are my world, Sam."

"And you're mine," she replied, running her fingers down his arm. "I'd be lost without you, Zachary."

"You'll never be without me," he vowed.

Grabbing the small blanket at the end of the bed, Zachary brought it up to cover them with. Samantha's green eyes were heavy with sleep. A glance at the clock revealed it was only eight-thirty but he hadn't allowed her to sleep much the night before. "Rest, Sam."

She smiled and buried herself in his chest. It didn't take long before her breathing evened out and her gentle snores filled the quiet hotel room.

Zachary tried to sleep as well but it wouldn't come. Something had him on edge but he couldn't explain the feeling. It was a tingling in the back of his mind that something was wrong. He wondered if it was simply anxiety born from the life he'd lived so long—some leftover trauma from losing his family and living a life of kill or be killed. That was probably all it was—but what if it wasn't?

Rising from the bed carefully so he didn't wake his peaceful wife, Zachary tucked her in tight before sliding his clothes back on. After fastening his gun belt, he left the room, locking the door tight behind him.

He needed to just walk around the hotel, maybe check the horses, and simply assure himself there was no threat lurking around. As he went down the hotel hall, he heard the muffled sounds of lovemaking coming from Tim and Eleanors room. Color stained his cheeks a bit as he hurried his pace—though he'd be lying if he said he wasn't happy for his best friend. Timothy deserved the happiness that Eleanor had given him.

As he neared the end of the hall and was about to go down the steps, a cold chill passed down his spine, Turning slow, Zachary scanned the hall. He would swear he'd felt eyes on him but he didn't see anyone. He scolded himself for being a paranoid fool. Too long he'd lived too hard—and he was terrified of the past repeating itself. Terrified of losing Samantha. It was causing him to perceive threats that weren't there.

He tapped his own temple roughly with his knuckle. 'Don't get so caught up in here', he remembered Timothy saying to him once. Now he repeated that to himself.

Stepping into the hotel lobby, Zachary realized there was no one behind the desk and the guest book was simply lying there open. His paranoia got the best of him and he turned the book to toward him and began reading over the names there, looking for any he might recognize as a threat. Not that he knew the name of every man working with Clinton Matthews and not that he thought that bastard would actually sign into a hotel using his own name. But, looking over those names and seeing nothing of interest did seem to calm him a bit.

Leaving the hotel, Zachary went to the stables and ensured that both Blaze and Athena were settled in nicely and safe. After giving them both a handful of oats, he returned to the hotel.

This time there was no feeling of being watched as he went back to the hotel room he shared with Sam and quietly entered. His wife was still sound asleep upon the bed. Zachary slipped from his clothes once more, laid his gun belt on the bedside table within reach, and curled himself up around her, sighing with contentment when she immediately buried herself in the cocoon of his arms.

Life was good now and it was going to stay good. He had to find a way to make himself believe that.  

A/N: woot woot two days in a row i've posted. Call it a double holiday present!  Hope y'all enjoyed the update.