Darling Annie

by Raine Cantrell

  “It’s hard to explain,” Kell began, joining Li at the sink and rinsing out his own cup. “You know I never wanted the place. I gave up trying to settle down a long time ago. But I feel like I owe Kyle. And there’s the doves, Li. I can’t just go off and leave them without work, without a place.”

  “Good reasons, I am sure,” Li agreed in his slightly accented voice. He dried the cups and hung them back on the hooks in the cupboard. “You once told me that you had been run out by a women group—”

  “Yeah, I know. Maybe that’s part of the reason why I’ll rebuild. Make up your mind that we’re staying. What’s more, we’re going to find out who tried to burn us out. I can’t see Laine as being behind this. She risked her own life that night.”

  “We all did. Shame it was too dark for me to see much when I went outside. Perhaps Bronc had more luck than I.” Li stared blankly at the wall for a moment, then added, “I saw Cammy, Ruby, Daisy, and Blossom. Where were Laine and Charity?”

  “Laine was in my room. I didn’t see Charity at all.”

  “Your room?”

  “Not what you’re thinking,” Kell was quick to say. “She came in to talk.”

  “In the middle of the night?”

  “She heard me moving around. Like you, I couldn’t sleep for long. And that’s all it was, Li.” But Kell’s gaze followed his Chinese friend’s upward toward the ceiling. “If you thought that—I guess Muldoon—”

  “Had similar thoughts?” Li finished for him.

  “Who the hell cares what she thinks?”

  Li watched him, silently laughing. You care, Kell. You may not know it as yet, but you care.

  “I do not care that he had two women in his bed. You understand that, Fawn,” Annie said, while she and the young woman made up Aunt Hortense’s bed. Pounding the sides of the goosedown pillows to fluff them, Annie continued. “I must tell him that I cannot have such behavior here. I will not tolerate it. He can go someplace else to conduct his affairs. If that’s even what they’re called. I run a decent, respectable house and he must abide by my rules. Fawn,” she declared, smoothing down the pillowcase, “it’s high time Mr. York was informed of what he may and may not do here.”

  Leaving her aunt’s room, Annie paused to listen to the tune Pockets was picking out on the piano. She didn’t recognize the music, but it was pretty and she hummed along as she went upstairs. Patting the coiled braids at the back of her neck, Annie forced herself down the hall and stood in front of Kell’s room.

  She tried to rehearse exactly what and how she would set her rules before him. It was a pity that the sight of him in those denims would not leave her. But she had delayed long enough. Annie knocked on the door.

  “It’s open.”

  “Mr. York, I have come to discuss—oh, I didn’t realize you had someone here.” Annie remained where she stood, in view of the bed where Kell lay prone on his stomach while the woman Annie had seen in his doorway draped in a sheet earlier, proceeded to rub his back. His bare back. And she wasn’t just rubbing him, she was working long fingers into his muscles and causing him to groan. If that wasn’t enough to mortify Annie, the woman straddled his hips.

  “Yeah, Muldoon? You can talk. Laine knows when to pretend she’s not here.”

  “Would that I could do it as well,” Annie snapped, losing whatever hold she had had on her temper.

  “Bother you, does it? I’m sore and she’s a wonder.”

  Recalling the fact that another of the women had also been draped in a sheet, Annie didn’t dispute or ask what he was sore from—obviously his bedsport had been strenuous.

  “I did not come here to discuss the merits of Miss … Miss—”

  “Laine, Muldoon,” Kell drawled, deliberately keeping his eyes closed. “And Laine is very, very good at what she does.”

  Annie couldn’t understand why the deep, rumbly sound of his voice made her think of mussed sheets and beds. She found it more and more difficult to keep her mind on what she had come to see him about. Sprawled as he was, and with Laine never once pausing in her stroking, Annie felt she was an intruder on their intimacy. But the fact remained, that was the very thing she had come to discuss.

  “I realize you may feel comfortable with Miss Laine hearing what I have to say to you, Mr. York, but I do not. Since I have no intention of leaving, she will have to.”

  “Bossy little critter, ain’t you?” Laine said.

  Annie met Laine’s amused look with a direct stare learned at her mother’s knee. It should have been enough to quell Miss Laine’s smile. It didn’t. Plain talk was all she had left.

  “You may think so. I do own this boardinghouse, and it has always been a respectable place. I wish it to continue being regarded as such. There are rules and—”

  “Leave us, Laine,” Kell interrupted her to say. He waited until she raised herself up, then he rolled out from under her. Kell came off the bed and with a stalking grace headed straight toward Annie.

  Lord help! Annie closed her eyes, chiding herself for being a coward. He was still wearing those pants, and they still weren’t securely fastened. Didn’t the man have any morals? Why, his appearance could have an adverse affect on a woman. Namely one. Herself.

  Annie heard the door close behind her; she emitted a rusty squeak but didn’t move. “The door—”

  “Leave it closed, Muldoon.”

  She knew he was near her. Not that he made an attempt to touch her, but Annie knew how close he was because there was a rise in the temperature around and inside her. When she had requested to speak to him alone, she hadn’t given thought to her own unruly reaction to Kellian York.

  “It’s improper to keep the door closed.”

  “And it’s damn improper for you to come into my room, Muldoon.” Kell mimicked her starched voice, then added, “Say whatever it is you need to get off your chest.” The instant the words were out Kell regretted them. His gaze slid down to her breasts, and he was disappointed to see that she was tightly laced and layered, unlike the charming picture she had presented him with this morning.

  “There is no need for you to ridicule my speech.” Annie had to look at him. She tried to focus on his jaw, but its stubborn set annoyed her. He still had not shaved. Annie decided that his earlobe, visible beneath his mussed sun-streaked hair, was the only safe place for her to look.

  “I’m still waiting,” he reminded her.

  “I intend to finish. I always finish what I start.”

  “Well, well, who would believe we have something in common, Muldoon.” Kell paused, most deliberately, snagging her panicked look for a second before she stared off at a point past his shoulder. “So do I. You might want to remember that.”

  “Don’t threaten me. I never had the opportunity to discuss the rules of living here. You must consider the other residents in my boardinghouse, Mr. York, namely, my elderly aunt who would not have withstood the shock of the scene I had to witness earlier. There is Fawn, who has already been subjected to terrors in her young life and is a most impressionable young woman. And, Mr. York, there is myself. I demand—”

  “Demand, Muldoon?”

  “Yes, demand, Mr. York. You must dress properly when you are out of your room.”

  “No restrictions about what I wear when I’m in it?”

  Annie steeled herself against the taunting note in his voice. “Now you mock me. I’ll not have that. I expect you to tell those women the same. I do not restrict kitchen privileges, but I won’t have people traipsing about the house at all hours in various states of undress. It is improper. Do I make myself clear so far?”

  “In the clear, ringing tones of a medicine wagon preacher. But tell me,” Kell asked, hooking his thumbs into the loose waistband of his pants, “did you expect Pockets to knock at your door in the middle of the night and ask politely for your permission to use the outhouse?”

  “There is”—Annie squeezed her eyes closed, trying to hold on to her
temper—“no reason for you to be sarcastic. I most certainly am not implying that anyone should have to ask my permission. I do not wish to be informed of their need to use the outdoor facilities.”

  “It’s an outhouse, Muldoon,” Kell whispered, leaning closer but still not touching her. “Open your eyes and look at me, then say the word. It’s damn polite enough. Even for you. And do try,” he added, when she finally looked directly at him, “not to talk like you’ve eaten lemons. For everyone’s sake.”

  There stirred within Annie a strange feeling. Her fingers curled and itched with the need to do violence to him. But he was not going to make her flee. She had responsibilities. His behavior had to be curbed. “Since I have not come here to win your approval, my speech is not important. I am trying to make the best of this temporary arrangement you have foisted on me. I demand that you control the behavior of the people you have boarded here.”

  “Or?”

  She stared at him blankly for a moment. “If you don’t, you’ll have to leave.”

  “Will I?”

  Annie stole a hurried glance at his hands and gulped. She thought the pants had slipped a little. “Plain talk. I am attempting to gain your cooperation.” Her fingers showed white knuckles with the effort she had to use to control herself. “Your attitude shows I have wasted my time. You refuse to help make this unfortunate association the least bit pleasant.”

  Kell lightly tapped the tip of her nose. “Darlin’, you’ve got that all wrong. I’m all for makin’ this association just as pleasant as can be. Problem is, Muldoon, we have very different ideas of what’s pleasant.”

  Annie batted his hand away. “Don’t take what I said and twist it around to suit your evil purposes. I don’t want any intimacy between us.”

  Only a small step separated them. Kell didn’t think. He took it. She backed up two steps. “Pleasant, Muldoon, remember?” Kell smiled and followed. Annie ended with her back against the door.

  Her head whipped from side to side. His left hand came up, palm flat against the door. Her nose brushed his right hand as he moved it to imprison her. Annie sucked in her stomach to avoid touching him. It was the wrong move. His bare chest met the rise of her breasts. Through the light cotton shirtwaist and corset cover Annie felt his warmth. The wicked, knowing gleam in his eyes defeated her. She sagged in place, sending silent pleas to the Lord to free her from the trap of the solid door behind her and the substantial devil in front.

  “We were,” Kell said, absently noting the change in his breathing, “discussing how to make things pleasant between us. And I did say I’d take care of your education, darlin’. This is as good a time as any. Let’s begin with your concern about intimacy, Annie. There’s degrees—”

  “But I don’t want—”

  “I think you do. You just aren’t aware of it yet.” Kell trailed the back of his left hand down her flushed cheek. “You have the most charming freckles.”

  Annie had turned to follow his left hand, but jerked her head to the other side when his right cupped her shoulder. “You,” she said in a small, anxious voice, “have more moves to watch than a fencing master.”

  “What do you know about fencing, Annie?”

  “Oh, I saw a traveling troupe—there’s thrust and parry—Why did you poke fun at my freckles?” Her lashes fluttered to feel his lips nuzzle the stray curl at her temple. “They’re the bane of my—”

  “Thrust” and “poke” were the only two words that Kell managed to retain. His mind sent a message. His body, to his annoyance, quickly responded. Too quickly. And to Annie Muldoon! He was supposed to be teaching her a lesson.

  “Let’s get back to intimacy, Annie. You’re in my room. Alone with me. Understand so far?” Her widened eyes, their deepening color, and the swift darting of her tongue touching her upper lip made his pulse race.

  “Let’s not get back to it. Let’s not discuss it at all. I’ll just leave.”

  “Oh, no. You came here without an invitation, Muldoon. You made your point. Said your piece. Now, darlin’, it’s my turn.”

  Kell touched his forehead to hers. His voice dropped to a smoky, rumbled drawl. “Think about pleasant, Annie. Think about intimate.”

  It was most unfortunate that Annie did just that. She looked up to find that his eyes were closed. His lashes were darker at the base and lighter at the tips. They even curled. She knew his words were calculated to have the effect he wanted on her. She didn’t know how to defend herself. This wasn’t a physical attack. Kell undermined and dissolved all her good sense.

  With a brushing motion the back of his fingers lightly caressed her chin. She had never known her skin could be so sensitive to touch. He overwhelmed her—his size, the warm male scent of him that filled her with every ragged breath she drew, his smile and the slow way he lifted his lids to look at her. His eyes were bright and—and hot. Foolish, Annie. Eyes can’t be hot. But his were just that.

  Lord! Oh, help! The buttons on her shirtwaist restricted her breathing. Her corset with its baleen stays no longer acted as armor. Blood began to pound in her temples.

  Annie longed to push him away. Needed to. To that end she raised her hands and touched the bare skin of his waist. Her quick gasp brought one of his grins. But she didn’t move her hands. He was as smooth and hard as the walnut parlor table. And he felt as heated as the tabletop did when the afternoon sun had been absorbed for hours into the wood.

  Kell caught the back of her head, her hair an amber fire that he wanted to see free. His fingers discovered the warmth of her skin, as fine and soft as a blossom’s petals.

  “Annie,”—he tilted her head to the side— “like your lesson so far?”

  “Lesson?” she repeated in a dazed voice.

  His thumb brushed the lush curve of her bottom lip. “Hmmm, lesson, darlin’. That’s what I’m trying to teach you.” Kell whispered a kiss across her cheek, barely touched the heavy fringe of her lashes, her brow, and once more nuzzled the fine, curling hair at her temple.

  “Such a fast learner,” he murmured, working his way back with light, scattered kisses. “Educating you may turn out to be my pleasure.”

  Heat spread inside her. There was unexpected hardness to his body when she measured it against the soft, unhurried murmur of his voice. Oh, Annie, my girl, don’t forget each gentle touch of his lips. But she tried. She didn’t want to admit the strange feelings blooming to life inside her. She certainly did not know how to deal with them. Or with him.

  “Touch me, Annie. Let’s see what degrees of intimacy I can teach you.”

  “I’ve … learned quite enough.”

  “Not nearly, darlin’. Not at all. We haven’t got to the good parts yet.”

  With her insides melting like a sugar topping in the sun, Annie didn’t think there could be more. But he nuzzled, he murmured, his voice coaxing her to touch him. Shades of a snake oil drummer! Of their own volition, her hands stroked up his sides, then slowly fluttered down. His skin was smooth, taut and warm. She had never touched a man like this, had never seen a man half-dressed and didn’t even know if it was right to touch him.

  Just by the way he was encouraging her, Annie knew it couldn’t be right. But instinct guided her. Instinct and the strange tension that coiled into a hard knot, and his damning voice that rumbled with wickedness urging her to keep on.

  When she heard the catch in his breathing, Annie stopped thinking about right and wrong. He lifted his head, his amused expression bewildering to her.

  “Such a small, secret smile. One I like, Annie.” He brought his lips to hers. Briefly. Tasting and breaking, only to find he had to come back for more. “That’s right,” he murmured, “keep smiling for me, Annie.”

  She turned her face away, not wanting him to see her slide her tongue over her lips to ease the throbbing.

  Kell cupped her chin and brought her mouth back to his. “Nothing hurts. Nothing will. I promise.”

  Annie couldn�
��t deny it. The shiver that came from feeling the light brush of his hair against her sensitive skin didn’t hurt. Not painfully. But a slow spreading ache brought forth a sound she had never made. Her hands opened and closed on his body. She thought she could feel his own smile before he strung kisses along the edge of her restricting collar. She longed to ask him what he was smiling about, but all she managed was another funny little sound.

  “Sweet, darlin’ Annie.” Kell felt the warmth of the sun at his back coming through the window to raise the temperature of the room. Under the gentle ply of his mouth Annie’s skin became heated and moist, bringing him the faint scent of lemon and flowers, and the more enticing taste of kindling desire.

  He drew back, gazing at the luscious red of her lips, damp with the repeated touch of the tip of her tongue. Temptation. Pure and simple. He admitted that. Admitted it and pushed aside the warning that he didn’t want anything to do with her. He forgot his own caution to regain good sense when her hands stopped their kittenlike kneading and slid around his waist. Her fingertips barely pressed his skin, yet he was full, hard and aching. She aroused him faster with her tentative touches than another woman’s practiced wiles would have.

  But Annie had no feminine wiles. Annie was as innocent as a wobbly-legged spring lamb.

  Kell forgot about that too.

  He was close to being obsessed with how she kissed. How she would taste.

  He never denied himself anything he wanted.

  The delicate little shiver that passed over her, the quickened pace of her breathing, made him gently cup her shoulders and bring her fully against him.

  “I promised nothing would hurt, darlin’. But you’re so tense.” Her wide, dark blue eyes, glazed with the first stirring of passion, stared up at him. Kell smiled. “Close your eyes, Annie. That’s the next lesson.” He was still smiling as he angled his head. “When a man’s about to kiss you—no, sweet, don’t pucker up. Open your mouth, Annie. Just a little. I’ll show you. You’ll understand better that way.”

  His mouth touched hers softer than a whisper. “And here wants kissing, too.” Kell breathed the words over her slightly parted mouth, brushing his lips against the charming little beauty mark above her lip.