Last Year's Bride (Montana Born Brides) by Anne McAllister Read Free Book Online Page B

progressively colder. At first it had been tolerable because, while she was cold from missing him, she had been sure it wouldn’t last. But as the weeks turned into months, the cold had deepened, her worries increased. When she’d got Cole’s letter with the divorce papers enclosed, Nell had felt as if her heart were frozen clear through.
    And now the ice was melting, the warmth of his arms holding her, of his kiss opening her lips, of his tongue tangling with hers brought her to life again. This was the Cole she remembered, hard and warm and, now, just a little bit desperate.
    And Nell couldn ’t believe he didn’t love her. If Cole didn’t love her, he would have stood there, stolid and indifferent, and told her again to sign the papers. He wouldn’t have fought his internal battle, he wouldn’t have looked so anguished. He wouldn’t be kissing her now.
    Relieved, rejoicing, Nell kissed him back. With every bit of pent-up emotion and longing she’d been storing for the past ten months, she gave herself to him. He didn’t stop with kissing. His hands molded her back, her hips, the swell of her buttocks. They urged her closer. One of his knees tried to slip between hers, but her sheath give little scope for such maneuvering, and she heard a frustrated mutter from Cole’s throat. Then he changed tactics, his hands moving to the zipper at her back. In one fluid motion he had the zip down and the dress off her shoulders. “Mmmm.” The word came as a murmur between his lips as he pushed the bodice down further and began to kiss her shoulders and her breasts.
    A part of Nell wanted just to relish these kisses, to bask in their attention, to soak up the feel of Cole ’s lips on her. It had been so long.
    But another part of her couldn ’t remain still, couldn’t just accept. She needed to touch, to stroke, to learn his body all over again. And so she tugged, pushed his suit coat away from his shoulders and was grateful when he shifted first one shoulder and then other, then shrugged it off. Even as he did so, she had pulled his shirt tails out so she could put her hands on him. They slipped under the cloth and slid up his back, remembering as they went. There, that jagged little ridge was the scar from the barbed wire, and that longer one by his shoulder blade was from when he’d caught a tree limb in the back. She catalogued the map of scars as her fingers moved over him, then slid around to his sides.
    “ What’s this?” Her fingers stopped on one near his waist, so new her touch made him suck in a breath.
    He turned his torso slightly to avoid the contact. “Doesn’t matter,” he mumbled, his lips still teasing her breasts.
    “ It does,” Nell pulled back. “Show me.” She began unbuttoning his shirt.
    Cole sighed. “Got kicked by a horse a couple weeks ago.” He stripped off his shirt as soon as Nell got the buttons undone. Then she tugged his undershirt over his head, tossed it aside and made him turn again so she could see where the skin had been broken, and the area around it still showed yellow and dark purple bruising as it dipped beneath the waist of his trousers.
    “ Oh, Cole.”
    “ It’s not a big deal.”
    Not now, maybe. Nell suspected it might have been at the time. Not that he would have admitted it. She laid her palm against it lightly, turning her head, kissing his shoulder, then moving down his arm, dipping beneath it to kiss him where he was bruised, touching her lips to the scar.
    He groaned. “Gotta get you out of this.” He was sliding her dress over her hips as he spoke, letting it pool at her feet. His fingers were callused, rough skin and tiny nicks and scratches caught on her sheer stockings as he peeled them down next. “Sorry.” His voice was a mutter against her abdomen.
    Nell fisted her hands in his hair. “I’m not.” Not sorry at all. She was burning with need of him, her fingers fumbling with his belt.
    “ Let me.” Cole made quick work of both the belt and