by Nan Ryan
Feeling incredible heat rising to his face and the familiar hardening of his lower belly, Pecos looked into Angie’s eyes. They were wide and shining with tears, and in them was a genuine look of helpless terror. It was devastatingly appealing, and it did to Pecos exactly what he was certain she intended. He had to remind himself that this breathtaking little liar with her tempting bare breast so close to his lips was a seasoned veteran of many a tryst. She’d probably perfected this frightened, dewy-eyed look after many hours of practice. Not to be taken in by it, Pecos turned a deaf ear to her small pleading voice.
“You shame me, Pecos. You look upon my nakedness and I shall surely be punished for letting you see me unclothed.”
“Hmm,” he mused, unmoved, “you really think you’ll be punished?”
“I do,” she said heartbrokenly, “and you also, Pecos.”
“I see,” he said, nodding in agreement. “In that case, if I’m to be punished, I want to see and do a bit more.” His hand gently peeled the right side of her dress out of his way while his eyes stayed on hers. Both swelling breasts were now displayed for his perusal; he looked at them and felt his passion escalating rapidly.
In his own way, Pecos fought, too, just as Angie was fighting, though not for the same reason. From the beginning he’d had every intention of taking her kisses, her warm caresses. Indeed, he’d planned all along to get her into his bed and enjoy the delights her experienced little body could bring him. But as he held her up now in his arms, her beautiful rose-tipped breasts near his face, her golden hair spilling around her shoulders and back, its sweet fragrance made sweeter still by the rose at her ear, he fought the intensity of his feelings for her.
How could he possibly feel tenderness for this flaxen-haired harlot who’d serviced scores of men for money? She’d been the toast of the Border, sought after and bought by any man willing to pay her steep price. Soon she’d marry his lascivious, aging father and again ply her trade, but for a higher price. She’d use all her well-learned carnal skills to try to steal his rightful inheritance.
Alarmed and sickened that despite all he knew about her, he was still helplessly drawn to her with an attraction that went beyond purely physical desire, Pecos desperately fought against it, choosing his usual way of combating and covering his well-hidden tenderness. He made light of it. While he looked at the twin peaks of alabaster flesh so near his face, longing only to draw her sweetness into his mouth, to bring her pleasure as well as himself, he waited, teasing her.
Pecos shook his head, and slid his eyes down to her breasts. “Look at your nipples, Angel. They look like sweet pink rosebuds.” Lazily he blew warm air over her breasts and his teasing gray eyes once again gripped her tearful green ones. “Will they blossom in my mouth if I taste them?”
She was no match for this forceful, frightening man who so callously teased her. Angie’s tears overflowed, sliding silently down her cheeks as Pecos slowly leaned to her, his mouth open. His warm lips went to her taut right nipple. A tiny sob tore at her throat when he touched the aching point with his tongue. He pulled back immediately and again looked into her eyes. For an interminable time their gazes locked and they were lost. Pecos, still looking into her eyes, reached down, and putting an arm beneath her knees, lifted her against his chest. She didn’t fight him.
His mouth found hers while he carried her to his bed. Kissing her tenderly, he lowered her gently onto the softness of his big bed and stretched out beside her.
As he gently lifted his lips from hers, his hand caressed her narrow waist for a moment before moving slowly up to capture a swelling bare breast. Angie’s small hand went to his shoulder as she looked at his smooth face and thought how darkly beautiful he was. Temporarily forgetting her fear, where they were and how very sinful she was behaving, Angie murmured softly, “Am I pretty, Pecos?”
His fine dark head dipping down, he said hoarsely, “Your sweet breasts are so lovely I want to worship them. They’re perfect, so tempting, so beautiful.” Angie held her breath, waiting for the exquisite touch of his heated mouth upon her throbbing nipple. Pecos; his lips open and his heart pounding heavily in his chest, fought the raging desire to greedily draw her tempting sweetness into his mouth, to punish her with sharp, slicing teeth, until both breasts were scarlet and tender from his gluttonous kisses and she was begging him to stop. “Angel,” he breathed and very tenderly touched his moist lips to her breast.
“Pecos, dear, are you in there?” Emily’s soft voice startled the two people so lost in each other they’d forgotten about Aunt Emily and the courthouse dedication.
Angie’s eyes widened with fear as the full horror of the situation registered in her reeling brain. Calmly, Pecos put a finger vertically against her open lips, silently telling her to remain absolutely quiet and still. “I’m here, Aunt Em, but I’m not finished dressing. Be with you in five minutes.”
“That’s fine, dear,” came the sweet voice. “Did Angie come by your room?”
“She stopped by a few minutes ago to tell me we’d leave in half an hour. Said she was going to her room to brush her hair again and get her gloves and bonnet.” While he spoke, he was looking down at Angie, a thumb circling an erect nipple. She appeared terrified, her full, naked breasts rising and falling with excited, labored breaths. The thought came to Pecos that this was no act; the girl was frightened. After all, it wouldn’t do for the household to find out the bride-to-be was lying half-naked upon the bed of the prodigal son. This tempting, teasing little whore was justly afraid she might lose her main chance, and that was enough to genuinely frighten her.
“Very well, dear. I’ll wait for you in the carriage.” Emily’s footfalls went back down the corridor. Pecos sat up and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. He pulled Angie to her feet and helped button her dress.
“Better get a move on, Angel. Go through the courtyard and get a bonnet from your room.” Trembling with remorse, Angie could only nod, her fingers so stiff she had no choice but to allow Pecos to help with the buttons. When she was again covered, she rushed across the room to the heavy double doors leading out into the courtyard. Poking her blond head tentatively around the doorframe, she looked about nervously. Seeing no one, she sighed with relief and fled, never looking back.
Pecos hurriedly slipped his long arms into a clean white shirt and a well-cut beige jacket. He sat on the edge of the bed to pull on his soft leather boots. He put a hand to the mattress to lever himself up from the bed. A soft, pink rose beneath his fingers drew his attention. He trembled slightly as he lifted the rose to his face. Miraculously the delicate Border rose remained intact despite the furious kisses and caresses he’d bestowed upon its wearer. It was as fresh and as perfect as if it still remained on the vine, as if it had never been plucked, smelled or touched.
Mesmerized by the resilient rose, Pecos thought ruefully that the rose and its wearer were very much alike. A hollow laugh filled his quiet room. Pecos let the rose slip through his brown fingers to the floor. Suddenly finding the tiny pink flower offensive he purposefully crushed it under his boot heel and left the room.
Chapter Thirteen
MISS EMILY, sitting in the rear of the big double-seated carriage with an array of foods packed neatly in large straw hampers on the floor at her feet, cast a look toward the ranch house.
“Dear me,” she said as she plucked at the folds of the hand-quilted coverlet beside her on the leather seat, “I can’t understand it. Angie’s been ready to go for more than an hour. She looks so lovely in her new pink dress. What could be keeping her?”
Pecos, relaxed and handsome, one foot propped on the carriage step, smiled at his aunt. “Sweetheart, I’m sure she’ll be along shortly. Don’t worry, I’ll get you there in time to hear all the boring speeches.”
Emily smiled. “I do hope our long-winded mayor doesn’t insist on … ah, there she is now.” Her eyes went to the approaching girl. Immediately the perceptive older woman noticed that the spring had gone out of Angie�
�s step. She was coming toward the carriage as though against her will, as though she didn’t want to go to Marfa. Puzzled, Miss Emily couldn’t imagine what had happened to the bubbling enthusiasm she’d seen a short time before.
Wordlessly, Angie, her delicate face practically hidden by her broad-brimmed straw bonnet, approached the carriage. Pecos lowered his foot from the step and took her arm.
“You look like cotton candy in that new pink dress, Angel.” He smiled down at her and was surprised to see red-rimmed eyes glaring up at him. Unmoved, he continued to grin as he gently lifted her into the front seat of the big carriage.
Without turning around, Angie apologized. “Miss Emily, I’m sorry if I kept you waiting.”
“It doesn’t matter, dear.” Miss Emily leaned forward to gently pat Angie’s shoulder. “We’ve plenty of time.”
“Yes.” Pecos agreed, climbing up beside the rigid Angie. “I imagine before this day ends, we’ll all be longing to be right back here at the ranch in a cozy bed.” He unwound the reins from the brake handle and coaxed the matched horses into a canter.
“That’s true,” Emily offered from behind them. “Let’s see, there’ll be speeches and the ribbon-cutting ceremony this morning. Then the noon meal, and afterward all the booths to visit. And for me, well—” she fondly patted the quilt beside her “—I’ll be in the contest to have my quilt judged.”
“I’m betting on you to win, Aunt Em,” Pecos chattered smoothly, making his aunt blush with pleasure. “Nobody’s going to make me believe there’s a more elegant quilt anywhere in Presidio County. Don’t you agree, Angel?” Angie gave no reply. Pecos turned to look at her. “Don’t you, Angel?”
“I … what?” Angie had no idea what Pecos had said.
“I said— Why don’t you take off your bonnet until we get to town? The covered carriage should guard that milky skin well enough.” Boldly, he reached a long arm to her, his fingers plucking the floppy-brimmed hat from her long, gleaming hair. Passing the hat back to his aunt, he said, “That’s better. Now, I said, I’ll bet Aunt Emily wins first prize in the quilting contest.”
Angie mustered a weak smile and turned a little in the seat. “Yes, Aunt Emily, I agree. The quilt is very beautiful. I’m sure you’ll take the blue ribbon.”
“That’s sweet of both you children,” Miss Emily said, nodding. She suddenly realized that Angie wasn’t wearing the prized Border rose she’d given to her. “Angie, dear, where’s the …”
“What, ma’am?” Angie held her breath, knowing what’ was coming next.
“Darling, the rose, the Border rose. It looked so lovely in your golden hair.”
“Yes,” Pecos chimed in, a questioning look on his swarthy face. “When you knocked on my door to tell me it was time to leave, I distinctly recall seeing a fresh cut rose in your hair.” He clicked his tongue. “Now, why did you take it off?” His gray eyes danced with mischief, and Angie felt her despair quickly give way to anger.
The cruel, cold Pecos was not content to shame her. It wasn’t enough for him to hold her in his powerful arms and kiss her until she was weak and helpless. Not enough to undress her and disgrace her and tell her that he was going to taste her sweetness. He still wanted more. He wanted to see her squirm and lie and stammer in front of his aunt. Pride surfacing, she decided to throw his question right back in his arrogant, smiling face.
“What a stupid question!” She turned accusing eyes upon him. “You know very well what happened to the rose, Pecos. Why don’t you tell your aunt? She wants to know; tell her.” Angie’s lips curved into a charming smile, and she batted her long dark eyelashes coquettishly at the surprised Pecos.
Rallying rapidly, Pecos smiled back at her. Secretly admiring her spunk, he said over his shoulder, “I told Angel she needed no adornment, that the lovely rose distracted from her fair, beautiful face.” He looked at Angie as though studying her. “Don’t you agree, Aunt Em?”
“Well, I was only trying to … I thought it would … Turn, Angie, and let me see.”
The lovely smile in place, Angie gracefully turned in the seat to look at Miss Emily. “My goodness,” Miss Emily said, shaking her head, “I believe Pecos is right, Angie. You are truly a vision. The hair ribbon is plenty. You look just like …”
“An angel.” Pecos finished the sentence for his aunt, his gray eyes locked on Angie. He saw her smile slip just a little and threw back his dark head and laughed.
CONSTANTLY IN SEARCH of ways to combat the monotony of life on the lonely Texas frontier, every family from a radius of fifty miles was in the small community of Marfa to join in the day-long celebration. The dedication of the impressive three-story county courthouse was the perfect excuse for the men to forgo their hard labors for a day and bring their eager wives and children into town to enjoy the good food, the good liquor, the good company of neighbors and friends.
Pecos guided the carriage down the busy main street. Angie, her spirits lifting, was amazed at the crowds of people milling up and down the wooden sidewalks. Buggies, wagons, carts and saddle ponies lined the streets. Men helped their wives unload picnic hampers and water jugs, and children squealed and raced around, shouting to their friends. Young cowboys lounged outside the saloons, politely tipping their hats to the passersby. Young girls in twittering groups paraded up and down, determined to attract the attention of the cowboys. Angie couldn’t help but notice the longing looks the pretty girls tossed at handsome Pecos, and the appreciative nods he had for them.
Childishly anxious to join in all the fun, Angie put her hands on Pecos’s broad shoulders and let him swing her down from the high carriage. Holding to her small waist just a second longer than necessary, he said in a low, inviting voice, “Slip away from the others at four this afternoon. I’ll buy you a peppermint stick and watch you lick it.” His eyes held that daring look she so hated, and his hands still spanned her waist.
“You are disgusting!” she spat out and ground the heel of her tiny slipper into his foot with all her strength. To her dismay, Pecos only laughed and released her. Whirling, she flounced away, swearing to herself that she would avoid him like a nest of hornets.
Angie and Miss Emily took their places on folding chairs on the newly planted lawn in front of the courthouse. From the hastily constructed dais in front of them, Barrett McClain, seated with three dignitaries, nodded proudly to the pair, a pleased smile on his face.
Angie smiled back. Barrett McClain’s soft brown eyes held that kind caring look she’d seen there from the beginning. If his cruel hateful son was callous to her feelings, his father was just the opposite. Barrett McClain was sensitive and warm, a truly considerate man. She’d been at Tierra del Sol for only a short time and already the elder McClain treated her like an adored daughter. Unlike her real papa, he didn’t constantly scold her; he indulged her and he expected nothing in return. He was almost too good to be real.
The program was beginning. The empty chairs quickly filled, and those not fortunate enough to sit, stood on the outskirts, all eyes on the wooden platform. The speeches began. Barrett McClain took the podium to the applause of the gathered crowd. Lifting his short arms for silence, Barrett beamed, nodding his white head in appreciation, saying, “Thank you, thank you.” When the cheers subsided, he began his prepared speech.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this perfect May day in the year of our Lord 1886, is a proud day for us all. For every citizen of Marfa and Presidio County, it is a historic occasion. Behind me you see the third seat of justice in the county. The first was Fort Leaton on the Rio Grande; the second, Fort Davis. We’re the third, but we feel we are the first in many ways. No other structure in southwest Texas can compare to the magnificent edifice behind me.” The happy crowd broke once again into loud applause, the men nodding their heads affirmatively. Barrett paused before continuing, “This gigantic, beautiful building will be standing long after you and I and our children’s children have gone from this earth. Built entirely of native stone and of brick m
ade right here in our fair city of Marfa …”
The fine cool morning, so still and perfectly clear, had changed to the blazing heat of noon. Angie squirmed in her chair, the desert breezes like a hot breath upon her face. Her long blond hair was now a bothersome nuisance, lying hot and heavy upon her clammy neck and shoulders. Her bonnet kept the harsh rays of the sun from her warm face, but the hat itself was burdensome and she could feel perspiration forming on her forehead beneath the straw brim.
Finally the speeches were over, the ribbon cut and the new Presidio County courthouse officially dedicated. Angie bolted from her chair, delighted to hear Miss Emily say softly, “Dear, let’s find some shade,” as the older lady fanned her flushed face with a lace-trimmed fan. Minutes later, a cool glass of frosty lemonade in her hand, Angie sighed with pleasure. Her bonnet had been discarded and her heated cheeks were cooling as she sat in the welcome shade of a tent set up on the town square.
Beneath the tarpaulin, long tables were loaded with more tempting food than Angie had ever seen in one place. Her appetite healthy despite the scorching heat, Angie moved from table to table, choosing baked ham trimmed with pineapple, crispy golden fried chicken, and roast beef, pink and succulent. Sweet corn, potato salad, okra, peas and freshly baked bread were heaped onto her plate by smiling ladies eager to have her sample a portion of what they’d brought for the picnic. When she’d devoured it all and felt she would surely pop, the kind ladies insisted she try a piece of chocolate cake and “just a taste” of fresh peach cobbler.
No sooner was the meal over and the tables cleared away than all kinds of activities began. There were feed-sack races for the boys, egg races for the girls. The races were something new for Angie and she cheerfully joined in the fun. Giggling happily with the other young contestants, she placed a silver spoon between her small white teeth, put a boiled egg into the spoon and waited. A loud shot from the six-shooter of a nearby cowboy and Angie and her opponents were off, to the cheers and urging of the spectators. Agilely, Angie hurried along, her wide green eyes never leaving the oval egg rocking so precariously in her spoon. One by one, eggs were dropped to the ground along the way, and the field of contestants narrowed. The finish line only feet away, Angie gave a sidelong glance to the only other contestant still in the race with her. She saw a beautiful Spanish girl, her brown arms outstretched for balance and a fierce look of concentration on her face. Angie wavered and the precious egg dropped from the silver spoon.
