"Men never look past the silk."
"I've looked, Janna Wayland. I know what's beneath all the finery-and it sure as hell isn't a fragile silken lady."
The words sank into Janna like knives, killing the last of her foolish hope. A feeling of emptiness stole through her as she realized that no matter how she dressed she would never be Ty's dream, for he would always look at her and see the ragged waif dressed in men's clothes.
Silk purse. Sow's ear. Never the twain shall meet.
Janna tried to turn away from Ty, but his fierce grip on her never wavered. She would have fought despite all the people around, but even if she had won free she would still have been trapped within swath after swath of silk. Silver had been right: men preferred silk because it prevented women from running off.
Janna was in a silken prison. There was no escape, no place of concealment for her but deep within herself. Yet even then her tears gave away her hiding place.
Case tapped Ty firmly on the shoulder. "This dance is mine."
Ty turned on his younger brother with the quickness of a cat. "Stay out of it."
"Not this time," Case said matter-of-factly. "I brought her here, forced her to stay here until you came back, and now you're spoiling the Thanksgiving ball Cassie has looked forward to all year. Your family deserves better than that, don't you think?"
Ty looked beyond Case and saw Blue Wolf starting through the throng in Ty's direction. He knew that Blue was even more protective of Cassie than Case was. Then Ty spotted Duncan and Logan closing in on him with grim expressions.
Silver began playing a waltz again. Its slow, haunting melody recalled formal summer gardens and elegant dancers glittering with gems. Calmly, Case disengaged Janna from Ty's arms. As Case whirled Janna away, he said over his shoulder, "Go take a bath. You aren't fit company for anything but a horse."
Without a word Ty turned and stalked off the dance floor, shouldering aside his brothers.
Behind him Case and Janna danced slowly, gracefully, for Case matched his demands to his partner's skill. When the final strains of the waltz dissipated among the candle flames and rainbows trapped within crystal prisms, Case and Janna were standing at the doorway. He held her hand and looked at her for a long moment.
"Cassie told me you aren't pregnant," Case said finally. "I'm sorry. A child with your grit and grace and Ty's strength and fancy speech… well, that would have been something to see."
Janna tried to smile, couldn't, and said simply, "Thank you."
"There's a fiesty zebra dun in the corral. That fool brother of mine packed more than a hundred pounds of gold all over Utah Territory for three weeks looking for that zebra mare. Sixty pounds of that gold is now in a bank waiting for you to draw on it. The MacKenzies will honor Ty's promise to see that Mad Jack's half gets to his kids."
"Half of my gold is Ty's."
Case shook his head. "No."
Janna started to object again. Case watched her with the patience of a granite cliff. She could object all she wanted and nothing would change.
When Case saw that Janna understood, he bowed to her more deeply than custom required and released her hand.
"You're free, Janna. All promises kept."
Chapter Forty-Five
The oil lamps in Janna's room turned her tears to gold, but that was the only outward sign of her unhappiness. Cream leather shoes stood neatly next to the armoire. Pale silk pantalets were folded neatly on the chair. Hoops and petticoats were hung out of the way. Earrings and necklace and brooch rested in an open, velvet-lined box. All that stood between Janna and freedom was the maddening fastenings on her ball gown. The dress had been designed for ladies who had maids in attendance, not for a mustang girl who had nothing but her own ill-trained fingers and a burning need never to see or touch or be reminded of silk again.
"Allow me."
Janna spun so quickly toward the door that candle flames bowed and trembled.
Ty stood in the doorway watching her, but he was a different man. Gone was the rough frontiersman. Ty was clean shaven except for a black mustache. He smelled of soap and wore polished black boots, black slacks and a white linen shirt whose weave was so fine it shone like silk. He looked precisely like what he was: a powerful, uncommonly handsome man who had been born and raised to wealth and fine manners, a man who had every right to require that the mother of his children be of equal refinement.
Janna turned away and said carefully, "I can manage, thank you. Please close the door on your way out."
There was silence, then the sound of a door shutting behind Janna's back. She bit her lip against the pain ripping through her body.
"A gentleman never leaves a lady in distress."
Janna froze with her hands behind her back, still reaching for the elusive fastenings that held her confined within a silken prison.
''But I'm not a lady, so your fine manners are wasted. Nor am I pregnant, so you needn't feel dutiful."
The bleakness of Janna's voice made Ty's eyes narrow. He came and stood behind her, so close that he could sense her warmth.
"Case told me," Ty said.
His nostrils flared at the fragrance of crushed roses that emanated from her skin and hair. Memories blazed for an instant in his eyes. He brushed her hands away from the fastenings that went down the back of her dress.
"You're a satin butterfly," Ty said, unfastening the dress slowly, feeling a hunger to touch her that was deeper and more complex than a desire, a hunger that tightened his body as each tiny hook silently gave way, revealing a bit more of Janna's skin. "And I'm going to release you from your cocoon."
Ty's long index finger traced the graceful centerline of Janna's back. She made a stifled sound as the dress fell away, leaving her naked. Ty had never seen anything quite so beautiful as her elegant feminine curves. He traced her spine once more, following it to the shadow crease of her hips.
"During the war, Case kept his sanity by walling off his emotions," Ty said quietly. "I kept my sanity in a different way. I swore that I would never see such ugliness again. If I survived, I vowed to surround myself with fine and fragile things that had never known even the shadow of violence and death. Every time grapeshot ripped through living flesh, every time I saw young children with empty eyes, every time one of my men died… I renewed my vow."
Eyes closed, body trembling, Janna felt the lingering caress of Ty's fingertip tracing her spine; but it was the pain in his voice that broke her heart and her control. She had loved him recklessly, without regard for the future cost. Now the future had come to demand its reckoning.
"It's all right, Ty," she said huskily. "I understand. You've earned your silken lady. I won't-"
Janna's voice shattered as Ty's hands caressed the length of her back before smoothing up her torso until her breasts were cupped in his hands.
"Run away?" Ty offered, finishing Janna's sentence for her. The feel of her nipples hardening at his lightest touch made blood rush in a torrent through his body. "That's good, because touching you makes me so damn weak that I can hardly stand, much less run after you." With aching gentleness he caressed the breasts whose textures and responsiveness never ceased to arouse him. "So soft, so warm. No, hold still, love. It's all right. We're going to be married just as soon as I find the strength to leave this room and round up a preacher."
"Ty…" Janna's throat closed around all the tears she hadn't shed, all the dreams that couldn't come true. "You have to let me go."
"Why?" His long fingers shaped her, caressed her, made her tremble with a wild longing. "You want me as much as I want you. Have I told you how much I like that? No games, no coyness, just the sweet response of your body to my touch."