“I was up all night with that limb of Satan, Rafe,” Deuce growled. “He not only drank me under the table, he had the audacity to take advantage of my inebriation to manipulate the cards to his own advantage.” He took a sip of coffee. “I was most indignant.”
“He cheated you?”
Deuce was immediately on the defensive. “If I’d been myself, he would never have been able to do it, you understand. I haven’t been duped like that since I was twelve years old.”
Sierra was having trouble keeping a straight face and turned quickly to pour her coffee. That wicked gypsy devil, she thought. “I’m sure you were grossly misused.” She disguised a gurgle of laughter with a cough. “Where’s York?”
“Down at the mine. He stuck around here until afternoon waiting for Sleeping Beauty to awaken. He even took a peek in your room a few times to make sure you hadn’t had a heart seizure and died in your sleep.”
“Did he?” She felt a warm stirring at his concern. She took a sip of coffee and lowered her gaze to the cup she was cradling in her hands. “I’m sorry he was worried. I had some thinking to do and didn’t get to sleep right away.”
“That’s what York finally decided.” Deuce paused. “He thought you’d still be upset when you woke up. That’s why he left me here on guard. He wasn’t sure which way you’d fly.” He squinted speculatively at her. “But you aren’t upset, are you?”
“No, I’m not upset any longer.” She glanced up and smiled. “And I don’t intend to fly anywhere at the moment, so you can join York at the office if you like, though I’d recommend you swallow a few aspirins and take a nap instead.” Her expression became totally deadpan. “Your experience with Rafe was obviously very traumatic.”
“It was, indeed, but I learned a solid lesson from it.”
“Not to cheat?”
“Certainly not,” he said, outraged. “A man doesn’t give up his art because of one trifling misjudgment. No, I’ve just resolved never to cross bottles with Rafe Delaney again.” He set his coffee cup down and stood. “And I think I’ll follow your advice and pamper my bruised ego as well as this ghastly hangover with a short nap. York won’t need me; he’ll be tied up until late this evening. He has to go straight from the office to the Soiled Dove. Melanie’s insurance man is flying in to discuss compensation for last night’s rhubarb.” He lifted a brow. “You’re sure I can trust you not to run away again?”
“You can trust me. I’m through running. It’s time I faced the situation head-on and came to terms with it.”
He gave a low whistle. “That sounds like York may be up against more than he’s bargained for.” He hesitated. “Don’t be too rough on him, Sierra. He’s only doing what he thinks is best for you. York’s problem is that when he becomes involved with people, he usually cares too much.”
She knew that. York cared for Deuce and his brothers with a single-minded devotion she was beginning to envy. The bond of caring had been evident with his every word and gesture when he was with them. She felt a twinge of pain as she realized that York might never give her the same affection. Oh, well, she would take what she could get. She had learned a long time ago that dreams seldom come true for people like her. “I’m sure you’re right, Deuce,” she said gently. “He cares very much for you, I know.”
He nodded. “I’m one of the select few. York doesn’t let many people close to him. Rafe and Burke were born into the magic circle, and I blundered in through circumstances and blind luck.”
“Blind luck?”
“A little play on words.” His smile was bitter. “I couldn’t resist it. York happened on the scene at the precise moment a nasty bloke deprived me of my left eye with a stiletto. He was trying to do the same to the right eye when York stopped him. Very violently and efficiently.”
“Good God!” Sierra stared at him in horror.
“I must admit at that moment I doubted the goodness of God and for that matter the entire universe.” He touched his black eye patch. “I’m not a man who is grateful for small mercies. I wanted both eyes.” He shook his head. “I was a complete son of a bitch for a number of months. Not many people would have put up with me. But York did. He got me to a doctor, then stayed with me through all the raving and the cursing.” His voice dropped to a mere whisper. “And the weeping. Hell, and we weren’t even friends before that night in the bar.”
Sierra’s throat was so tight, she could scarcely swallow. “And you’ve been together ever since?”
He nodded. “He won’t admit it, but I think the only reason he came back to the States was because he wanted to make sure I didn’t lose the other eye in a similar situation.” He smiled faintly. “Here in Hell’s Bluff York feels he can control the situation better. York is a man who instinctively takes charge. It’s a facet of his character.” His voice became coaxing. “Let him take charge for a little while, Sierra. You won’t regret it. I never have.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to cause York any other difficulties. I think I’ve found a solution that will take care of everything.” She made a face. “However, it may take a little adjusting on his part.”
“Adjusting?” Deuce asked warily. “York’s not accustomed to adjusting.”
“Too bad.” She turned to the sink and began to rinse her cup.
“Sierra, I don’t—” Deuce stopped. She could feel his gaze on her back, but she didn’t look around. When he spoke again, his tone was resigned. “You’d think by now I’d have learned not to interfere. I much prefer a spectator’s role. I’ll call York and tell him you’re neither suicidal nor swooning with grief. I’ll leave him to discover on his own what else he has in store.”
She heard Deuce’s retreating footsteps as he left the room. Her hands were trembling a little as she set her cup in the drainer to dry. That first euphoric serenity was beginning to crumble. The fluttering in her stomach was increasing by the minute, and she mustn’t let that happen. She must take everything minute by minute and not think ahead. She must certainly not think of York or tonight.
She was gone!
Her bed was neatly made and her bedroom dark and deserted. York flicked on the light switch, fully expecting to see a note on the bedside table or her pillow. She hadn’t been downstairs in the parlor when he had come home, nor in the kitchen, the library … Where the hell was she?
He should never have gone to the Dove tonight, he thought. These negotiations with the insurance people had stretched on for hours. If he’d had any sense, he would have realized Sierra would do something impulsive. She’d obviously been desperately unhappy last night.
Yet Deuce had said she hadn’t appeared overly upset this afternoon. Deuce’s reassurance had been the only reason he had been able to make himself stay and go through all that maddening red tape at Melanie’s.
No note. However, the absence of a note didn’t necessarily mean she hadn’t run away. She could be out there alone and— Waves of panic surged over him as he spun and bolted out of the room. Where the hell was Deuce? This silence was far too much like last night when he had come home to find Sierra gone. There hadn’t been a note from Deuce downstairs, so he, at least, must still be in the house.
York pounded loudly and impatiently on Deuce’s bedroom door with his fist. “Deuce, open the door. Where the hell is she? You said—”
“Deuce isn’t home.”
Sierra’s voice! Relief caused the blood to drain suddenly from his head, making him weak. “Where have you been?” he asked as he turned around. “I’ve been looking all over the—” He stopped. Sierra was standing in the open doorway of his room. “Is there something wrong? Are you waiting for me?”
“Yes, I am waiting for you.” She slowly backed into the room, her dark and solemn gaze fixed on him with trepidation. “Come in.”
“Thank you,” he said ironically as he strolled down the hall toward her. “That’s very kind of you. Why couldn’t you have waited downstairs to talk to me? Though I don’t know why I expected that. You
never do what anyone else would do.”
“I thought it would be more convenient here.” Oh, dear, she thought. This was even more difficult than she had expected. “I didn’t mean to impose, but I—”
“For heaven’s sake, you’re not imposing,” he said irritably. “I didn’t mean to imply that, and I didn’t mean to be sarcastic either. You just scared the hell out of me and I was striking back.” He stopped a few feet from where she was standing in the middle of his room. “Now why don’t we go downstairs and make some coffee and talk? We have to come to an understanding. I don’t think either of us wants a repeat of what happened yesterday.” He smiled crookedly. “I’m not sure either of us would survive it.”
“I’m not sure, either,” she whispered. “I couldn’t go through that again. Oh, not what happened at the Dove. That was bad enough, but when I realized all the trouble I’d been …” She shook her head. “It has to end, York. We’re at an impasse. You won’t let me go, and I can’t stay without giving.” She walked slowly toward him. Her face was pale and her eyes desperately earnest. “Shut the door.”
He stared at her. “What?”
She shut the door herself and turned the lock. “We have to end it.” She faced him. “Make love to me, York.”
He went still. The room was suddenly charged with tension. He swore softly and fluently. “This is crazy. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been trying to avoid that very thing like the plague for some time,” he said harshly. “I’ve told you how idiotic it would be for us to become involved sexually. I’ve told you that you’re too— What are you doing?”
“Getting undressed.” She was unbuttoning her tailored shirt. Her hands were trembling so much, it was taking an eternity. She was nervous enough without worrying about buttons. “I was thinking about already being undressed when you got here, but I didn’t know what your reaction would be.”
“The same as it is right now. Rejection.”
She shook her head. “That wouldn’t have bothered me. I’ve dealt with rejection before. Most of the time you just have to grit your teeth and plow straight ahead.” She had the blasted buttons unfastened at last, and she slipped out of the shirt with a sigh of relief. “It’s just that I’m not experienced at all this, and I was afraid I’d appear more funny than seductive.” She didn’t look at him as she undid the front closing of her bra. “The perfect compromise would have been a marvelously flimsy nightgown, but I didn’t have anything but my old faded pajamas. They definitely would have struck you as funny.” She shrugged out of her bra as casually as possible and dropped it on the chair by the door.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “I’m sure as hell not laughing now.”
She looked up swiftly. He was staring at her naked breasts. The intensity of his gaze made her catch her breath and the muscles of her stomach tighten. “Good,” she said shakily. “Because I couldn’t be more serious about this.” She kicked off her shoes and began to unfasten her jeans. “I could handle it if you did think it was amusing, but it’s much—”
“Stop, dammit.” York’s voice was low and vibrated with tension. “This is … You don’t want to do this.”
“How do you know I don’t? Have you ever asked me?” She slid the jeans down and stepped out of them. “All you’ve ever done is tell me how vulnerable I am and how terrible you’d be for me.” Her hands went to her bikini panties. “You never gave me a choice.”
“For heaven’s sake, will you put your clothes back on?” His hands were clenched into fists at his sides. She could see desire burning in his eyes.…
“No, I’m seducing you.” She tried to keep her voice steady. “I’ve made up my mind, so you might just as well resign yourself.” She drew a shaky breath and smiled up at him. “However, I’d really appreciate it if you’d show me how to go about it.”
“Why? Why are you doing this, Sierra?” He seemed to be having trouble speaking. His gaze had fallen from her breasts to her hands, which were hesitating on the band of her panties.
Because I love you. The words were so close, they were trembling on her lips. Because I can’t let pass the opportunity to belong to you, even if it’s only for a few weeks, or a few hours. She knew she couldn’t say those words. She couldn’t say anything that would reveal her vulnerability to him. As it was, he already felt far too responsible for her. She couldn’t saddle him with the knowledge of a love he might not be able to return.
“Because this is the solution,” she said instead. “You want me. You told me so yourself, and it’s making you uncomfortable and unhappy because you think you can’t have me.” She shook her head. “It’s the same problem Deuce told me your men experience here in Hell’s Bluff. Lack of availability. Well, I’m making myself available.”
“And paying off what you conceive as your debt at the same time.” Anger was mixed with the desire in his eyes now. “We’ve gone a long way past the proposition I made you during those first days after I brought you here. You can’t earn your keep that way, Sierra.”
“Can’t I?” She smiled at him lovingly as she took a step toward him. “Why don’t you let me try?”
“The hell I will. If you want to prostitute yourself, go back to Melanie’s.”
“I can’t. You and your brothers closed the place down.” She moved closer. “Why are you so angry? I’m only trying to give you what you want.”
“I don’t want …” He paused to steady his voice. “Put on your clothes, Sierra. Please.”
She shook her head. Her hands reached up and began to unbutton his shirt. “I’ve made up my mind. It took me a long time to do it, but I’m not about to change it now.”
“Stop that.” He caught her wrists. Her skin was warm and soft. Her arms were so slender, his fingers could easily encircle them. He wanted to run his hands up her arms to her fine-boned shoulders, then tilt back her head so her throat was open and available to him as it had been that night in the parlor. The muscles in his stomach were knotting, and the aching tension in his loins was blurring everything but its mindless urgency. Nothing seemed more important than satisfying that hunger. Yet he knew there were more important things to consider. There was Sierra and what was best for her. “Step aside,” he said. “If you won’t leave, I will.”
“I’ll just follow you.” Her voice was firm. “We’re alone in the house. I asked Deuce to go to the dining hall for the evening. You can’t get away from me by stalking out of here.” She had finished unbuttoning his shirt and now pulled it open. The well-developed muscles of his chest were as beautiful as the rest of him. A wedge of dark springy hair dusted that chest, and a beaten silver and turquoise necklace gave him a slightly barbaric air. “I’ll follow you wherever you go.” She slid her arms around his waist and nestled against him. The feel of his warm skin and the abrasion of hair against her nipples was like a hot tingling shock. She gasped as a shiver ran through her. “Hadn’t you better give up?”
“Sierra.” His hands hovered over her naked shoulders. Her hair smelled clean and faintly floral, and he could feel her hard nipples pressing against his flesh. White-hot waves of sensation were rolling over him. “Please …” His throat was dry and raspy, and the words wouldn’t come. “Stop plowing ahead. I can’t take anymore.”
“That’s the point of being persistent.” Her lips moved across his chest, and her teeth pulled teasingly at a tuft of hair. “To batter down resistance.” She suddenly closed her eyes and sagged against him. “Don’t make me do this alone any longer, York. It’s very difficult for me.”
“Is it?” Aching tenderness filled him at her confession, banishing resistance as desire had not. She was so small and delicate—despite her strength of will. He touched her shoulders tentatively. “You’re sure this is what you want? I can’t talk you out of it?”
“I’m sure.”
His hands slid down her naked back, his fingers exploring the hollow of her spine. Protectiveness and a passionate possessiveness flooded him. “Then you’re not alone
any longer. We’re in this together.”
She snuggled closer. “Well, that’s a relief. I’m certain you’re much better at seduction than I am.”
He felt his throat tighten and his hands were gentle as he pushed her away. “I doubt that very much. I’ve never felt more seduced in my life. What a bold vamp you’ve turned out to be, Sierra Smith.” His gaze was running over her, and the tenderness shifted to tension once again. “And what a lovely one.”
Color rushed to her cheeks. “I didn’t think I’d feel this shy. Sleeping in the same room with two parents and four siblings isn’t calculated to inspire any great degree of modesty.” She touched the bikini panties. “Shall I get rid of these now?”
“Leave them on. You look very provocative.” He stripped off his shirt and threw it on a chair. “There’s plenty of time to do that later. Seduction should be slow and easy.”
“Should it?” she murmured. The light from the single lamp gleamed on his sun-bronzed skin and caught the silver of his necklace. His beautiful eyes had darkened and she wanted to stand there and look at him forever.
She was gazing at him with the same breathless joy she had that night in the moonlight, he thought, and suddenly felt within him the exuberant happiness he saw in her face. It was so strong, he had to wait for a moment before he was able to answer her.
“I’m not sure,” he said, “that a slow and easy seduction will be possible tonight. Go over and sit on the bed, love. I want you out of reach while I finish undressing.”
He watched her cross the room to the big four poster bed. She was tiny, yet every curve was perfectly formed. Her white skin looked like velvet and her dark hair gleamed in the soft light. Instead of sitting on the bed, she knelt, her gaze eagerly fixed on him. “Hurry,” she said. “Get undressed. I want to look at you. You’re so—” She broke off as he frowned at her. Then she grinned unrepentantly. “I’m sorry. But you are, you know.”
He was undoing his belt and his lips curved in a smile of resignation. “A peacock? What the hell am I going to do with you?” He held up his hand as she opened her mouth to answer. “Never mind, I have a few ideas on that score myself.” His voice lowered and seemed to caress her. “I can’t wait to get inside you. I’ve been lying awake in a fever every night thinking how warm and tight you’d be. I’ve even dreamed about it. I’d wake up in a sweat with the sheets wet and my guts so twisted, I thought it would kill me.” He was naked now and walking toward her. “I felt like an animal in pain. I feel like that now.” He knelt on the bed, facing her. “But I don’t want to be an animal with you, Sierra. Help me to hold on.”
York, the Renegade: A Loveswept Classic Romance Page 12
