He gave a scornful laugh. “This is the mistake,” Tabor reached inside her bodice and searched for the paper he’d signed. Delilah gasped as his hands probed where they would. He found the paper, snatched it out, and tossed it to the bedside table.
“I won that horse!” Her face was a mask of fury.
His expression was one of amused tolerance. Now his hand roamed to her pocket and snatched out several playing cards.
“You cheated,” he said tonelessly. Before she could shriek a denial, he clamped his hand over her mouth again. “Which means the Admiral still belongs to me. So does the gold.” His smile struck terror in her eyes. His voice fell low and husky. “And for the next week, Delilah belongs to me too.”
She nearly exhausted herself struggling, to no avail. Tabor settled himself over her, his weight pinning her tightly to the bed. His mouth replaced his hand over her lips. Again she fought as something intense and frightening ignited within her. Disgust? No. Desire? Impossible. She refused to admit it. She hated Tabor Stanton.
His free hand tore the puffed silk sleeve from one shoulder and slid to the soft swell of her breast. She gasped her horror at his action and her reaction. A quick rush of heat filled her. She’d never been touched that way, never been forced so close to a man. The shame of it was that half the emotion she felt was desire. How could she? How could she have turned wanton? For him?
As his hand moved lower, she fought a new surge of passion but felt herself weakening. Delilah shut her eyes. It was a mistake, heightening the other senses to his nearness. His lips, ravishing hers, still held the taste of sherry. The scent of him, maleness and leather, intoxicated her...the sound of his heartbeat and breathing drummed in her ears. His body against her was hard and strong as steel, his mouth unrelenting.
Her body turned renegade, responding to him, wanting to give in to him, softening under his pressure. “Tabor...” she moaned as his tongue slid past her lips.
“You won’t regret losing this time, Delilah. I promise,” came his hoarse whisper.
His words were ill-timed and reminded her who he was. When he released her arms, she struck at his shoulders with her fists. But as his mouth reclaimed hers, the fighting ceased and she clutched at his leather vest instead. Lost, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled him closer.
“Delilah,” he whispered, kissing her face as he plucked the pins from her flaming hair. Fingers laced in the loosened silk strands, he continued exploring the velvet warmth of her mouth, stopping only when he felt her struggle for breath. Damm, how he wanted her.
His mouth crushed down hard on hers again, savoring the honey taste of her lips. His tongue swept once more into the soft hollows of her mouth.
Delilah’s arms locked around him, holding him close when she would have pushed him away. Oh, God help her, she was kissing him back, joying in the feverish press of his lips.
“Nooo,” she moaned when he took his mouth away. Her eyes locked instinctively with his.
“Yes,” he corrected, his hands never leaving her. Warm rough fingers slid from her hair to her throat, over her shoulders, downward to tease beneath the restricting lace-covered bodice. With what seemed like infinite slowness, he unbuttoned each tiny black pearl stud. When all were free, he parted the garment, moaning as the rose-tipped mounds spilled out.
He drew a ragged breath. “Christ, you’re a bittersweet woman, Delilah. So damn beautiful. So bad.” His palms made slow circles over the tightening peaks. “I think you need taming. Am I right?”
“Yes,” she whispered breathlessly. Her pulse pounded in her ears, drowning out logic and thought. “Yes.”
Tabor stripped away his vest and shirt and flung them to the floor. His eyes lingered on her milk-white flesh. She had a small dark mole on the left side below her breast. He found it provocative, a tiny secret for his eyes only. Whispering her name, Tabor eased himself down on her, crushing her softness against his hair-glazed chest. Both moaned at the maddening contact. Face buried in her fragrant hair, he slid his mouth lower until he found the velvet flesh and the marble-hard peaks he craved.
Her loins ached in a way she had never known. Delilah, jolted beyond reason by a host of new and shattering emotions, cried out his name as his hand probed recklessly beneath her skirts. Warm fingers drifted maddeningly past silk stockings and satin garters, caressing smooth, soft skin, stopping only when his hand reached that intimate part of her. Soft cries came from her lips as he probed the soft, springy curls there. Her body felt hot and fiery as a new star, waiting, wanting to be unleashed into the heavens. She had completely lost her senses and she didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything but his touch and the consuming burn of desire.
Tabor rolled away and started to unbuckle his belt. Hell! He’d wanted to go slowly, to savor. But it wasn’t going to happen this time. The flames leapt too high. He needed her now.
With his weight gone, Delilah pushed up on her elbows and saw what he was doing. By all of heaven, what was she doing letting this man make love to her...wanting him to? She must be mad to have let herself go, to have let him...Paling as she suddenly realized how perilously close to disaster she was, Delilah edged away.
Tabor had only a second to glance up and see the sherry bottle aimed at his head. He heard more than felt the blow as it impacted with his skull. The next second, he tumbled to the floor.
Chapter 4
“Honestly, Walsh.” Delilah, wearing a deep wine velvet traveling costume and a matching bonnet, wrung the embroidered handkerchief in her hands. “You don’t mind if I call you Walsh?” Long tawny lashes rimming her eyes, she glanced up like a frightened child pleading with a trusted elder. “I feel we’ve become friends.”
Walsh Peregrine’s heavy cheeks reddened. “Why, no, Miss Delilah. I’d be honored.”
Delilah dabbed at an imaginary tear. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more frightened. It was an honest game—Seth and Todd were there.” Behind her chair Seth nodded. “I just don’t know what came over the man. I told him I thought we ought to stop. He’d lost all his money.” She sighed. “He insisted on one more hand and wanted to bet his horse.”
“A man can get that way about gamblin’,” Peregrine said.
“I never would have agreed to a game with Stanton except that he insisted, and we do have a mutual friend. I never thought...” Again she broke off and sobbed in her handkerchief. “When he lost his horse, he went absolutely wild, drew his gun, and threatened me in the most horrible ways. If it hadn’t been for Seth...” She sniffed, covering her face with her hands but peeking through her fingers to read Peregrine’s reaction.
“Now, you just hush, ma’am. Stanton’ll be in my jail a mighty long time.” Huffing, Peregrine pushed back from his desk, scrubbing chair legs on the floor. Chest expanded, he stood.
Delilah’s head dropped. “But, Walsh, how can you hold him? I just couldn’t face him in a courtroom.” She lifted her frightened eyes to Peregrine again. “Not after what he said, what he threatened.”
Peregrine patted Delilah’s shoulder. “No need for you to ever set eyes on that no-good wrangler again. You just sign this deposition and leave everything to me. I’m the law and the justice here.”
“Oh, Walsh! You’re the finest man I ever met!” Eyes amazingly dry, Delilah sprang to her feet and hurried around the marshal’s desk. Putting her hands on his cheeks, she pulled his burly head forward and kissed a surprised Peregrine right on the mouth. He almost lost his balance. “Where do I sign?” she asked.
Outside on the dark street she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I swear that buffoon had a whole plug of tobacco in his mouth.” With Seth escorting her, she bypassed the main door of the hotel and made her way to the back entrance. She stopped just outside. “Seth,” she said briskly. “Take this claim down to the livery. Get Stanton’s horse and hightail it out of here. We’ll meet you where we planned.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Seth tipped his hat, took the paper, then, scattering little clouds of
dust in the darkness, hurried to the livery.
Delilah slipped inside the hotel and up the back stairs to Dinah’s room. Dinah and Loo, dressed for traveling, sat on the settee, Dinah asleep with her head resting on Loo’s shoulder. Remorse flooded Delilah’s senses. Dinah was such an innocent. Being manhandled by a drunken cowboy was an experience she should never have had.
“How is she, Loo?”
“She will be fine when she wakes up. You’ll have to help me get her down the stairs, though. Todd has the coach ready and all the trunks on board.” Loo eased herself away from Dinah and stood. “How are you?”
Delilah thought the question over. She was too stirred up to know how she was. Her escapade with Stanton had been unnerving at best.
“I’m fine,” she offered. “Just anxious to leave here.” Gently she massaged her temples. “And I may never take another drink.”
“What happened in there?” Loo’s dark almond-shaped eyes probed for the truth. She knew Delilah better than anyone else, and Delilah definitely wasn’t fine. She seemed to have the jitters instead of the euphoria that was usual after a successful operation.
“Nothing,” Delilah said hastily.
“Nothing?” Loo’s look demanded more. “The room was a mess. The men had to put Stanton’s clothes on him. Your black lace dress was ripped and—”
“I ripped it getting out of it in a hurry. Nothing happened.” She couldn’t look at Loo. “Nothing important,” she added.
Nothing. Warm color in Delilah’s face contradicted her. She had almost allowed that reprobate to make love to her. That was all. She hadn’t stopped shaking yet, nor could she get the image of him out of her thoughts. That look on his face when he’d seen the sherry bottle coming. Rage. The threat in his eyes still blazed in her mind. She hadn’t lied to Peregrine about that. Tabor Stanton had told her with that last look what was in store for her. Thank God the blow had rendered him unconscious. Her lips closed tightly together. She was also thankful she would never see him again.
Or was she? Another image of Stanton stole into her mind. His face after he kissed her and when he whispered her name. The way his eyes turned a soft gray. The way she felt then. Butterflies fanned velvety wings in her stomach. If only he hadn’t been one of the men on her list.
No. She shook her head in dismay. That was unthinkable. She loathed him for touching her, for making her respond, for making her want him. Nervously Delilah swallowed a gulp of air. Stanton was done with. What had happened never would have occurred if she hadn’t had so much to drink. She refused to think about it more. She refused to think about him.
“Delilah?” Loo took her arm. “Are you sure you’re all right? You have not heard me call your name twice.”
Delilah hugged Loo. “I’m sorry.” A note of weariness sounded in her voice. “I’m just tired.” She forced a soft smile. “Come on.” Holding Loo’s arm, she led the way to the settee to wake Dinah. “It’s over. We can go home.”
Two hours later, amber and rose bands lined the morning sky. Todd pulled the team of horses to a halt and shouted in the window, “Seth’s up ahead.”
Within moments Seth galloped up, leading a snorting, high-stepping black stallion. Delilah leaned out the window and watched the approach. The animal’s black coat shone in the early light, his mane streamed and shimmered like long satin ribbons. Tail held high, the Admiral tossed his head and whinnied a greeting to the mares in the team. Seth led him up alongside the coach.
“He’s some horse, ma’am,” Seth told her. “Ain’t no wonder that Stanton fellow didn’t want to lose him. Look at those shoulders and withers. A horse like that could run all day and never tire out.”
“He is a beautiful horse,” Delilah declared, reaching out to stroke the Admiral’s nose.
“Wouldn’t do that, ma’am.” Seth quickly pulled the stallion’s head out of reach. “He’s an ornery cayuse. Don’t do nothin’ he don’t want to. Couldn’t even get the saddle on him. I left it at the livery. That all right?”
“Of course.” Delilah smiled smugly. Tabor Stanton ought to be awake by now—behind the bars of the Yuba City jail. It might be a while yet before he knew the horse was gone. She’d like to see that arrogant face now. He wouldn’t have much use for a saddle if he ever did get out.
But as it had several times in the past few hours, another image of Tabor’s face intruded in her mind. With it came a sudden flush of heat beneath her skin. She shuddered. The memory of his touch, his hands, his lips, haunted her. Damn him! She wished she’d thought of a way to get him hanged.
“Where to, ma’am?” Seth asked.
“Sacramento,” Delilah said, settling back into the coach. “Where there’s a decent hotel. I’ll pay you boys off and you can head for that ranch you’re so fond of.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Seth waved to Todd. “Head ‘em out to Sacramento.”
Delilah managed a few hours of restless sleep during the long journey. Tired, her thoughts disturbingly unsettled, she welcomed the end of the rough ride as the coach drew to a halt just outside of town. During the hour’s wait while Todd rode in and rented a buggy, she and Dinah and Loo got out and stretched their legs. When Todd returned, Delilah issued more instructions to the men before climbing into the new conveyance.
“Get three tickets to San Francisco and ship that one trunk on for storage. Todd, you see the coach gets back. Wait at least an hour after we drive into town. Get a freight car for the horse and hire someone to look after him on the trip. I don’t want anything happening to that animal.”
“We’ll take care of it,” Todd told her.
“I know you will,” she said, finally feeling herself grow calmer. “I can always depend on you boys to do what’s needed.” She smiled, thinking that if she’d had brothers she would want them to be like Seth and Todd. “Come to my suite when you’re finished and we’ll settle up.”
Loo pushed a folded garment into her hands. Delilah opened it up and slipped on a plain linen cloak and lifted the hood over her hair. As soon as Dinah and Loo donned similar cloaks, Seth started the team. A few minutes later the buggy rolled into Sacramento. With the ladies safely on the sidewalk in front of the Sacramento Hotel, Todd unloaded the valises, then drove away. An hour afterward the empty coach rumbled in, the Admiral and Seth’s horse tied behind.
From the registration desk, a wiry little man with spectacles and sparse gray hair addressed the travelers. “Afternoon to you, Misses Alden,” he said. “You ladies had a long visit with your aunt.”
“Yes, we did, Mr. Ridgley,” Delilah responded to the clerk without approaching the desk. “And we’ve had a long ride. We’re hot and dusty and very anxious to get to our suite. If you’ll just give my maid the key.”
“Right here, miss.” His words were for Delilah. He barely glanced at Loo as he handed her the key. “Everything’s just like you left it. Want me to send up hot water right away?”
“How thoughtful,” Delilah said softly. “Yes. In half an hour, Mr. Ridgley. Good day.”
Ridgley watched the three women climb the stairs, the two Misses Alden and the Oriental maid. Must be mighty rich, he thought, renting the biggest suite in the hotel permanently and using it only every now and then. Quiet ladies too. Especially the older one. Kept to themselves. No visitors except those two cousins who came by once or twice. When the three passed the first landing, Ridgley slipped through the curtains behind the desk.
“Maggie,” the clerk called. “Put some kettles on. The Alden women are back and want water for a bath.” He paused and put a hand to his ear. “Maggie? You hear me?”
“I hear you,” came back a grating voice. A clanking of metal followed as Maggie filled kettles and slammed them on the stove. The Alden women, a prissy, fancy pair. Good tippers, but not much on conversation. Kind of suspicious, if you asked her. Running in and out of Sacramento. Never a word about where to reach them. Never any mail. Made a person wonder. With four kettles on and heating, Maggie slumped back in her
chair beside the broom closet and closed her eyes until the whine of the kettle spouts sounded an alarm.
At Maggie’s knock, Delilah eased inside one of the bedrooms. Loo, wearing a plain black dress and starched white apron and cap, answered the door.
“Hello, Maggie,” she said. “Come in.”
“Reckon I will,” Maggie retorted, seeing no reason to be overly polite to a maid. “I’ve got the hot water.”
“In here.” Loo directed Maggie to the dressing room, where a brass hip tub sat. While Maggie emptied the kettles and went back for more, Loo hung fresh linen bath sheets on the towel racks and tore the paper wrapping off a cake of imported lavender soap. When Maggie returned, Loo was hanging two silk dressing gowns on pegs.
“Everybody wonders where it is you and the Alden ladies go.”
“Everybody?” Loo returned. Maggie had a curious streak and Loo would bet her buttons the cleaning woman was the one who had carefully gone through the armoire and dressing-table drawers while they were away. She must have found the locked Saratoga trunks frustrating.
Maggie poured the water slowly. “Well, you have to admit it’s peculiar, keepin’ a suite you hardly ever use.”
“It’s merely a convenience,” Loo said. “The ladies enjoy a respite in a fine hotel now and then.” Loo lowered her voice as if revealing a confidence. “The Alden family is a large one. The misses have eight brothers. Their mother’s dead. Sometimes they just have to get away from all those men telling them what to do and who to see. It drives the misses half out of their minds.”
Maggie nodded knowingly. “Guess they don’t want the menfolk knowin’ where they go.”
“That’s right,” Loo answered in the same conspiratorial voice.
“I won’t tell,” Maggie whispered back, then, raising her harsh voice again, said, “Got two more kettles to get.”
With Maggie gone, Loo broke into laughter and Delilah slipped from her listening post behind the door.
“That was a fantastic story! I predict it’ll spread over Sacramento by nightfall.”
Delilah's Flame Page 7
