CHAPTER 4

From that day on, Sully made sure he was on his best behavior whenever he was around Michaela. By unspoken mutual consent, neither of them mentioned the kiss, though both thought of it quite often...and dreamed of it.

The first day or two after the snake incident, David played the ardent suitor, but little by little, he eventually slipped back into his normal routine. Michaela wasn't sure what to think or do about the situation. She knew, feeling as she did now about the man she was engaged to marry...and the man who spent his time guarding her...she should probably break things off with David and go back to Boston.

But...she couldn't. The thought of never seeing Sully again filled her with such angst, she just couldn't leave. But on the other hand, the thought of marrying David, and having to be intimate with him filled her with just as much dread. At best, sex with him would have been just a wifely duty. Now...she would be thinking of another man during the deed. She would be committing emotional adultery!

All of this went so against the grain for Michaela. Dishonesty revolted her and she had never been one to purposely be deceptive. Her conscience clawed at her day and night to 'do the right thing' by David and break it off with him. Yet, every day she came up with one more excuse, postponing the inevitable. Truthfully, she didn't want to hurt or embarrass him, as would surely happen should she publicly break their engagement and arrange her passage home.

"Oh, what am I to do?" she would groan softly, wishing a dozen times a day that she could talk to her sister Rebecca about the problem. She even sat down to write her sister a letter half a dozen times, but tore each missive in tiny pieces before it was halfway complete. This just wasn't something she could confide in a one-dimensional letter, as on paper, the details made her seem almost wicked. If ever she was in need of her wise older sister's advice, it was now...

As for Sully, he felt just as twisted about the whole thing as Michaela. The thought of her marrying Captain Lewis...giving her virginity to him...allowing him full access to her body anytime he desired, filled Sully with such a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach he could barely stand it. They had never discussed such a thing – that Michaela was still innocent...but somehow he just knew. More than anything, he wanted to be the only man in Michaela Quinn's life. He wanted to be the one to introduce her to the magic, the sensual pleasures of physical love. Every day, he yearned for her to break off her engagement with the captain.

But on the other hand, he dreaded that almost as much. If she broke it off with him...she would go back to Boston and probably marry some other rich doctor who was well positioned in society. He would never see her again...never catch the scent of her perfume as they rode together in the mornings...never watch her from afar, loving everything about her...never see how her eyes sparkled when she laughed or the stubborn look she could get when one of the officers took her comments as the prattle of an empty headed woman.

Sully knew she was anything but empty headed. She could hold her own in just about any conversation. He had witnessed that as she launched into topics of discussion with the colonel and the majors during several different dinners. "Pardon me, Major, but I disagree..." she would begin, and then politely state her opinion of the matter. Her knowledge of world events and other subjects, not to mention medicine, amazed him...and was another nail in the coffin that constantly convinced him she was way out of his league. She was like an exquisite, lustrous diamond while he was no better than fool's gold. There was no comparison.

All he could do was admire her from afar...and very carefully. Since the incident with the horses, Captain Lewis kept him under close surveillance. Sully also suspected that the captain had enlisted the help of one or two of the other men to keep him abreast of any 'misconduct' on Sully's part. He had to be constantly on guard – and he couldn't let Michaela find out the depth of his feelings.

One particular Saturday morning, however, everything came to a head.

Michaela woke up to find it raining – a virtual monsoon – making it impossible for her to take her morning ride with Sully. The realization knocked her off balance for a moment, but she went about her morning ablutions anyway, and made her way down to the mess hall for breakfast, dodging raindrops.

Glancing around, she didn't see David anywhere, and breakfast was usually one of the only times she saw him during the day, unless he graced her with his presence in the evening.

Walking over to the colonel's table, she greeted him and his wife good morning and casually asked the whereabouts of her fiancé.

"There was some Indian trouble near Ft. Defiance. He was summoned during the night to help their surgeon with the wounded," the colonel informed her, in between bites of scrambled egg.

Michaela's eyes grew large for a moment. David hadn't even come to her quarters and told her goodbye before he left on such a dangerous assignment. The next thought occurred to her – she was a surgeon too! She could be of help to the wounded. She could be saving lives...but even as she opened her mouth to state this to the colonel, the look he flashed to her told her he knew what she was thinking. And the answer would have been a resounding NO. She had already fought and lost that battle too many times since she had arrived at the post.

Swallowing her disappointment and aggravation, she sat down and half-heartedly smiled at the private who laid a full plate in front of her. Picking up a fork, she idly pushed at the food, her mind working one hundred miles an hour as she stewed over this latest frustration.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the mess hall door open and someone walk in. Even without fully looking at him, she knew it was Sully. She turned her head slightly and gave him a careful smile. He returned it with a slight nod before sitting down with his men and beginning his breakfast. His hair was wet from the rain, as he had made a mad dash across the compound from his quarters on the other side. Something about his hair like that seemed extremely sensual and conjured up all sorts of imagined scenarios...Michaela forced herself to look away, fighting a strange stirring inside.

For the next twenty or so minutes, Michaela tried to eat, listening politely to the inane chitchat of the colonel's wife and the sweet encouragement of the major's wife, all the while trying not to allow her attention to stray across the room. Every time she did, however, she was met with that mesmerizing blue gaze and she had to tear her eyes away, silently vowing not to let it happen again.

Finally, breakfast was over and Michaela wiped her hands in preparation for returning to her quarters for a day of needlepoint. What joy, she sighed silently.

Before she could stand, however, she noticed someone had approached. Glancing to the side and seeing his highly polished belt buckle and tanned hands, she knew who it was without looking up.

But look up, she did. Meeting his eyes and feeling that tingle she always felt when he was near, she murmured, "Good morning...Lieutenant Sully. How are you this rainy Saturday?"

"Aggravated," was his one word reply.

"Oh? Why is that?" she ventured, striving not to flirt, but something about him pulled at her, made her feel like a feline to his 'tom.'

"'Cause we can't go on our mornin' ride," he murmured softly. Despite his aggravation, his eyes were twinkling as if he had something up his sleeve.

"Yes...now I'm wondering how to pass the time...since David is away at another fort," she returned, although thinking that David being there or gone would make no difference to her day.

"Yeah...I heard about that. So..." he paused, glancing around and finding no one near. "So, I was thinkin'...do you play chess?"

Michaela couldn't help the smile that lit up her face. Did she play chess? She was a chess champion. "Yes, I do."

Sully drew in a breath at her reaction; glad he had pegged it right. The light on her countenance at that moment almost drove him to distraction, however.

"So...would you like to play?" he asked with an innocent, little boy grin, his dimples in full bloom.

"Yes, very much...but I don't have a chess set here..." she began, smiling when she saw the expression on his face that told her he had one of his own.

"I figure we can set up the board in your quarters...by the front window with the curtain open – you know – for everyone to see what we're doin'," he clarified in case she would panic and back out. But she didn't.

"I think that's an excellent idea, Mr. Sully." Then raising her hand for him to grasp and help her up, she added, "Shall we?"

Within ten minutes, Sully had arrived at her quarters with his chess set, together they had moved the table in front of the window by the door and opened the curtains wide, and settled down to a very competitive game. The monsoon rain was soon forgotten. Correction...the monsoon rain was soon regarded as a blessing!

OOOOOOOOO

They had been playing for over three hours, each one anticipating the other's moves and feeling delightfully challenged. Along with that feeling was their incredible awareness of each other. An electric hum totally unrelated to the thunder and lightning outside, permeated the very air in the room.

Michaela was acutely conscious of every breath Sully took, every move he made, every look, every smile – his manly, earthy scent serving as a very potent distraction as she planned her moves.

She found herself watching him, loving the way he pursed his lips in concentration, his eyes narrowed and darting around the board as he silently pictured the consequences of each available move. She adored the way he would lean to the right, his left hand on his hip, elbow out, the other elbow resting on the arm of his chair as he slouched against the back and absently twirled her last captured pawn in his nimble fingers. Avoiding staring at his smooth, full lips, which only made her remember their magical kiss that day in the desert, her eyes settled on studying his fingers, so long, strong, tanned, and masculine. Try as she might, she couldn't stop herself from imagining those fingers touching her skin. Time and again she shook her head to refocus, nearly blushing at the scandalous thoughts.

Sully was achingly aware of her as well...whiffs of her scented soap nearly drove him crazy...the turn of her head, the way she would move one delicate hand to pick up a chess piece, flashing him an innocent smile when she murmured, "Your play." He could barely concentrate on the match.

Content to just be in the same room with her, he gloried in being able to watch her do something as simple as decide on her next chess move. He loved the way a tiny line formed between her eyebrows as she concentrated, only to smooth out and disappear when she made up her mind. He adored the way she sat, so ladylike, her posture perfect, and the fingers of both hands touching each other, leaning softly against her chin or her lips. Those lips...he couldn't help but steal glances at them, trying hard not to dwell on the memory of their kiss the day he rescued her from certain death.

Michaela was certainly the best chess player Sully had ever been up against – and Sully had proven a competent opponent for Michaela. It was months since she played, and she allowed him to make the aggressive moves at the first, to 'feel him out' and learn his strategy. She planned to pounce later. That thought made her eyes twinkle and he glanced at her, wondering just what she had up her sleeve. The twinkle told him it wouldn't bode well for his game.

Over the weeks he had gotten to know her well enough to recognize that look, and he knew if she so desired, she could render him powerless with one touch...or kiss. He would be like warm clay in her hands...that thought made his eyes twinkle as images filled his head of her hands on his body, holding, squeezing, rubbing...whoa now, back off, he silently upbraided his wandering imagination, forcing himself to concentrate.

Taking a small break to place a pot of coffee on the fire, Michaela then wandered near Sully's chair, looking past him and out the window at the rain still coming down in sheets across the compound. Grinning happily, she glanced down at him as he sat just gazing up at her with nearly palpable desire. The look in his eyes, so intense, sent a shiver of fresh awareness up her spine and nearly took her breath away.

Clearing her throat, she ventured, "For a day that started out on a very bleak note, it has turned out to be quite pleasant indeed...because of you," she added softly. "I'm sure you must have had other duties...other things you could have been doing. Thank you for spending the time 'entertaining' me."

"My pleasure," he murmured, his voice low, his gaze heated.

The word 'pleasure' and the heat in his eyes made her heart jump and she unconsciously moved a step back from him, one hand fluttering to the collar of her blouse. Her mouth suddenly went dry and she moistened cottony lips with the tip of her tongue. She watched his eyes immediately shift to her mouth, then back up again to meet her gaze. The look reminded her instantly of their kiss out on the desert, and suddenly her breathing became shallow and quick.

Just then, the coffee in the pot began to boil, and she thankfully retreated from his side to tend to the chore.

After a few moments, Michaela brought back two cups of the steaming brew. She handed him one and their fingers touched, their eyes meeting again as he murmured, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she whispered, settling across the table from him again. At that moment, one of the sentries walked by, his rifle at rest across his arms. He looked in the window and smiled and tipped his cap at the two of them, before going on about his business. Sully wondered if he was one of Dr. Lewis' spies, and he was glad they had put the table by the window in plain view.

"Shall we continue?" Michaela asked brightly, her eyebrows rose as she gazed at her opponent.

"Sure," he answered in that clipped way she had come to adore, his eyes twinkling as he sat back in his chair again and sipped his coffee, watching her over the brim.

For the next little while, they played in silence, each stealing surreptitious glances when the other wasn't looking. Only the sound of the rain on the roof and the ticking of the clock on the mantel broke their companionable silence.

As the clock struck once for half past eleven, Sully stretched his arms over his head and released a relaxed sigh. This felt so right...the two of them enjoying a rainy afternoon alone together. He imagined a future filled with many such days and briefly wondered if she thought about that as he stole yet another glance at her face. He couldn't read her expression, but perhaps this would be a good time to try and find out what she had decided, what her plans for the future were...and if there could possibly be, even the slightest chance that he could...that there might be room in her life for...him. Maybe...

He put down his cup and took in a breath, gathering his nerve.

Just as he opened his mouth to broach the subject, a knock sounded at the door and Sully got up automatically to answer it, not thinking about the fact that he was in her quarters. The private on the other side of the door showed his surprise for a split second as he stared back at the lieutenant, then quickly cleared his throat and murmured, "Supply wagon got through. Got something for Miss Quinn."

"I'll give it to her," Sully murmured, taking the package from the private and closing the door, practically in his face. The young man shook his head and went on about his business, knowing he'd best keep his mouth shut about this development; the Lieutenant and Miss Quinn alone together in her quarters.

Sully crossed to the table and handed her the package. "Here, looks like it's from Boston."

"Thank you," she murmured as she eagerly took the package and opened it. Inside was a letter from her mother and a copy of the Boston Herald. Glancing at the date, she gave a smirk that it was already a month old. Choosing to read the letter later, she picked up the newspaper and perused the first page to see if there was anything interesting. As Sully stared at the chessboard deciding his next move, Michaela turned the page and couldn't help a gasp escaping her lips. There at the top were her and David's picture with the article heading, "Captain David Lewis, MD to Wed Dr. Michaela Quinn in September Wedding."

Sully looked up from the board, noticing the expression on her face.

"What?"

"Oh...nothing," she answered, a little too quickly, turning the page to try and read the next article.

"Don't look like nothin'," he murmured, wondering at the change in her demeanor. After watching her for a few moments chewing on her bottom lip and pointedly not looking at him, he unexpectedly reached over and grasped the paper out of her hands as she gasped in surprise.

"Sully! Give that back," she insisted, leaning forward and grabbing at the item, but he shook his head and leaned back out of her reach as he flipped the page back, his eyes narrowing as he saw the headline and the picture.

His blood went cold and he swallowed dryly. Raising his eyes, he held her gaze for a moment, and then tossed the paper down onto the board, the article there in plain sight for them both to see.

Sully had watched the slow disintegration of the relationship between Captain Lewis and Michaela and he couldn't believe she was actually still thinking of going through with what would be a sham of a marriage! Unable to help himself, he burst out, "You still gonna go through with it?"

Taken aback by the emotion in his voice, she stammered, "I...I'm still considering it, yes."

"So it's true?" He asked, incredulous.

"Well...not entirely," she hedged, not sure of what to say, as she wasn't sure yet what she was going to do.

"So it ain't true?" he insisted, leaning forward to search her eyes.

"I didn't say that!"

"So what ARE you sayin'?" he asked, becoming exasperated.

"Well...with David I would have stability...and...besides, I don't want to hurt him," she added softly.

"Stability," he repeated in a flat tone, thinking that was one thing he probably couldn't offer her. He certainly couldn't give her the kind of life he knew she was used to...expensive clothes, jewelry, big houses, servants...

"Yes," she answered, beginning to feel cornered by his accusatory tone.

He searched her eyes again, his a bright piercing blue as his emotions heated up.

"Do you love 'im?"

Her eyes widened at his boldness, to come right out and ask her such a thing! He silently pressed with the force of his eyes alone.

She cast around for an answer, finally settling on, "I did once..."

"Do you still?" he pressed, his voice edgy.

"I...I still care for him..."

"Yeah, but - Do – You – Love 'im?" he asked relentlessly. This pushed Michaela's buttons, that this too gorgeous man who stirred her passions, but never once told her his own feelings – except for the chaste kiss the day he saved her life – would dare ask such personal questions. Who did he think he was to do such a thing?

"David...David asked me to be his wife...to share his life with him! That's something I don't take lightly," she exclaimed, making an unconscious comparison.

They stared at each other in silence, both breathing faster due to their heightened emotions.

Suddenly feeling like the air was too thick to breathe, Sully pushed back from the table and stood abruptly. The thought of Michaela going ahead with her marriage was too much for him to confront – he needed to escape...to think...to regroup.

Turning, he headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" she cried out, suddenly reversing her anger of a moment ago and wishing to make amends, but not knowing quite how. The man was so quiet – he'd never once told her how he felt. Feelings only count for so much...a woman needs to hear certain things spoken aloud.

Turning with his hand on the knob, he ground out, "If marriage is all you want...you've found the right man." His eyes raking her up and down like cold blue knives, he wrenched the door open and went out, slamming it behind him.

Speechless and alone...bereft...she sat there staring at the space he had just vacated, a feeling of odd foreboding gripping her soul.