Page 31 of Wyoming True

His mouth brushed over hers with a tenderness that brought stinging tears to her eyes. She stood very still, so that he wouldn’t stop.

But he felt the tears in his mouth and lifted his head, shocked.

“Why?” he asked, worrying that he was going too fast.

“I’m not used to it.”

“Used to what, Ida?”

She swallowed. “Tenderness.”

He smiled. “You might not believe it, but neither am I.”

“I’ll bet you leave trails of brokenhearted women behind.”

“I used to. Not anymore.” He sighed. “I’m tired of buying the facsimile of affection with expensive gifts.”

Her small hand went up to his cheek and drew it down. In the moonlight, she could see the anguish on his hard face. She was certain that he disguised it in humor with most people. But with her, he could let his guard down. It made her proud.

“We’ve both lived through tragedies,” she said.

He caught her hand and pressed it to his mouth. He scowled. “How do you know that I have?”

“You have an expressive face, when you’re not pretending,” she said simply and gave him a sad smile. “I guess people who’ve known tragedy can see it in other people.”

“Not many have ever seen mine,” he said curtly. Not even Mina had noticed, and she was sensitive.

“Or mine,” she agreed. “Most people have enough trauma in their own lives, without adding my bad memories to them.”

He smiled faintly, fascinated by her. “That’s the way I feel.”

Her fingers traced his chiseled mouth. He dazzled her. “I don’t think I’ve felt safe with a man since my first husband died,” she said in a soft, husky tone.

He glared at her. No man wanted a woman to feel just safe. He wanted her to feel passionate, hungry, all those things.

She laughed softly. “Bad choice of words,” she said, when she saw the irritation he wasn’t bothering to hide. “Let me rephrase it. You’re the first man I’m not afraid of.”

“Oh.”

It was only the one word, but his face relaxed and lost its brief anger.

“I know that you won’t hurt me,” she added. She smiled. “It may not seem like much to you, but it’s a world of difference to me.”

He cocked his head. “You don’t flirt with me,” he pointed out.

“You’d see right through it if I did,” she replied. “You’re a no-nonsense man most of the time. Hard, when you have to be, but compassionate and kind.”

There was a faint ruddy flush on his high cheekbones.

“Now I’ve put my foot in my mouth again,” she sighed, grimacing.

“You see too deep,” he said simply.

“I get it,” she replied. She smiled up at him. “No peeking under that mask you wear, right?”

“Right,” he returned. She made him uncomfortable with her surprising insight. He didn’t want people close. Not emotionally close. His only lapse had been Mina, whom he’d loved.

She studied his drifting expressions with fascination. “You don’t want anybody close emotionally, do you?” she asked slowly. “I mean, I know you cared deeply for Mina. But you had to fight your instincts even with her. Somebody hurt you deeply, scarred you.”