Santos. Slimy bastard.
And didn’t she deserve a little justice too? Justice for how Devil treated Mama? Justice for Mama’s death? Justice for her own lost innocence?
She hated Devil Morgan and Santos. She’d give anything to watch them hang for all their crimes. There was no doubt Quinn meant to turn her over to the territorial judge if she survived Devil’s camp once more.
Why should she be the only one to pay?
The door to the adjacent room opened. Quinn stood in the doorway.
“Planning on sitting there in that quilt all night?” A slow grin spread over his face. “Although the idea of having you sit naked across the table does have its merits, I’m pretty sure the café down the street won’t let you eat if that’s all you plan to wear.”
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she held his gaze. This man might be her jailer, but there was a strength in him that spoke to her. Not just because he’d saved her or had taken control of her body’s lust. No, he was the kind of hero she’d always wanted. She trusted him and Dakota.
“If I help you, you’ll make sure Devil and his men pay for the robberies and murders?”
His body tensed and his face grew serious. “Believe me, they’ll pay. One way or another.”
“No matter what happens to me, you promise?”
From across the room he pinned her with his intense blue gaze, strength and determination there for her to read. “Darlin’, you have my word.”
A lump formed in her throat and she swallowed hard, blinking back the tears stinging her eyes. “Then I’ll help you get into the camp.”
“Gonna get dressed first?” The grin played around the corners of his lips again.
This time she returned it with a smile. “A gentleman would leave me to do so in private.”
“I thought you knew.”
“Knew what?”
“I’m no gentleman.”
“You are the closest I’ve ever come to meeting one.”
For a moment he studied her as if he wanted to say something more, but finally decided not to. With a nod, he stepped back into the other room. “Knock when you’re ready,” he said and closed the door behind him.
* * * * *
Twenty minutes passed before Quinn felt the need to pace the room.
What the hell was taking her so long?
“She’ll be ready when she’s ready,” Dakota said, slowly running his knife blade over a soapstone.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“That your pacing won’t make her move any faster.”
“It’ll make me feel better.”
“She’s not throwing on a shirt and britches. Might as well take a seat,” Dakota said in the irritatingly patient way that always made Quinn want to punch something.
“Who the hell made you an expert on women?” Even as he asked it, he knew his brother was right. He sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, legs spread wide.
They might have Lacy’s cooperation to get inside Devil’s camp, distract him long enough for them to capture him and get them all out of there in one piece, but something ate at him even as he knew the plan was a sound one. He’d wanted more time to teach her to trust in them and obey him no matter what he asked—and she was going to hate what he’d ask of her—but Dakota encountering that man in town had moved their timeline up. They needed to leave soon.
What if it hadn’t been enough time?
The vision of fear and resolution on her face as she asked him if he’d see that Devil and his men got justice no matter what happened to her filled his mind. She’d made up her mind. She’d put her trust in him, he’d read it there, no question.
A moment later the door opened.
The air in his chest whooshed out.
A tall, slim goddess wrapped in green silk, the color accenting her slightly golden skin, stood in the doorway. The lace collar remained unbuttoned, revealing her gold collar necklace beneath. The silk hugged her breasts, nipped in at her tiny waist and fell over her hips. She’d pulled her hair up into one of those fancy buns women seemed to know how to do, a few loose curls caressing her face.
A lady of the first order any man would be proud to escort out for an evening on the town.
Lucky him.
Her smile wavered and her eyes grew worried. “Is there something wrong?”
“No…uh, no, you look beautiful, darlin’.” Realizing his staring was making her nervous, he swallowed hard and stood.
Dakota slipped his knife back into the sheath strapped to his boot. “Pet, you are truly a vision.”
Mine.
Quinn narrowed his eyes at his brother. “Don’t you have something to do right now?”
“You mean besides telling our lovely companion how honored we’d be to have her accompany us to dinner?”
“God, you sound just like Ian.” Quinn resisted the urge to grab Lacy by the arm and drag her away from his brother.
What was wrong with him? He’d never been possessive of a woman, had shared fairly with Dakota. But seeing him flirt with Lacy was setting his teeth on edge and making his blood run hot.
Dakota laughed, then grabbed his long coat and rifle. “I’ll wait for you down in the lobby.”
The door clicked closed behind him.
Silence hung in the air between Quinn and Lacy.
He slid his gaze over her from head to toe, then back up again, watching the color rise in her face as he did so. As if approaching a wild animal, he slowly moved toward her.
“Where did Dakota have to go?” A slight tremor shook in Lacy’s voice.
Nerves or excitement?
“He’s just making sure no bounty hunters are downstairs waiting to ambush us.”
“Bounty hunters?”
“The territorial judge put a price on the bank robbers’ heads for the robberies and murders.”
“Including me?”
He stroked his knuckles across her cheek. “Yes, but you’ll be safe with Dakota and me. No legitimate bounty hunter will try to take you from us.”
“Legitimate bounty hunters. Are there illegitimate ones?”
She swallowed nervously, making the gold chains glitter in the lamplight.
He reached for the lowest unbuttoned button on the dress bodice, letting his fingers graze her warm, soft skin. For a moment he indulged himself and slid a finger into the deep valley between her breasts.
At his touch her breath caught on a gasp.
So responsive to him.
So sensual.
Blood surged to his cock. He tamped down his own desire. The woman had him in a continual state of arousal.
As much as he enjoyed the view of her exposed skin—just the top swells of her breasts—he slipped the button through its loop.
“Dakota met a man in town yesterday inquiring after a woman wearing a gold chained collar,” he said, reaching for the next open button.
Fear cast a shadow over her eyes. “Devil’s sent his men after me.”
“It would seem so.”
“What is his price?”
“I don’t know. Dakota didn’t ask the man before sending him on our back-trail toward Beaver Run.”
“Why did he send him there? Surely the town’s people will tell him I left with you and someone fitting Dakota’s description. He’ll just head back here, looking for us.”
“Maybe. Dakota felt it safer to get him to hightail it out of town rather than try to find a place to hide his body.”
“Oh.”
“In the meantime, let’s keep your necklace hidden.”
He finished fastening the last button, concealing the gold chains beneath the green silk and ivory lace. He cupped her face in his hands and stared into her emerald eyes. “Dakota was right. You’re quite a vision tonight.”
He caught her lips with his, watching her eyes widen then her lids drift closed as he savored the taste and feel of her soft, warm mouth. His cock stiffened as he continued to d
evour her lips.
He wanted to unfasten each button he’d just closed and all the others too. Strip her naked. Impale her on his rod. To feel her hot slick depths grip and stroke him as he thrust deep inside her.
Before he could give in to those urges, he eased up on the kiss. Holding her face still, he rested his forehead against hers and dragged air into his lungs to steady his heart and rising lust.
“Damn, woman, what you do to me.”
“You do the same to me.” Her eyes were warm with her own desire as she smiled at him.
Good. He hated seeing dread in so fearless a woman.
He laughed at her candor, then dropped his hands from her face. Stepping away, he donned his duster, then slipped her hand in the crook of his arm.
“Darlin’, let’s see what the town of Goldwater can offer us for dinner, shall we?”
* * * * *
Seated near the window and flanked by her companions, Lacy sipped her coffee while Quinn and Dakota finished their slices of pie. She’d managed to eat the huge dinner of steak, potatoes and greens the town’s only respectable café offered up, but drew the line at the apple pie for dessert, though the cinnamon and apples tickled her senses, almost changing her mind. She knew if she took one more bite, she’d bust the buttons on her new dress.
“Damn, that was good,” Quinn said, setting his fork on his empty plate.
“Haven’t eaten that good since we left Denver,” Dakota agreed.
Lacy set her coffee cup down and folded her hands in her lap, more to keep them from shaking rather than looking demure.
Mama always said men were easier to handle when their stomachs were full as a tick on a dog. Now that both men had eaten their fill, it was best to find out their plans for capturing Devil and his men.
She took a breath to settle her nerves then fixed a steady gaze on Quinn. “Once I get you to Devil’s valley, what are your plans?”
The men exchanged looks.
That wasn’t good.
Quinn leaned back in his chair. “First, do you mind if I ask you a question, darlin’?”
That was never good.
“Okay.”
“What is the one thing Devil wants that he has never been able to possess?”
Fear gripped her insides.
She took another breath and willed it away. “Me.”
“Which makes me wonder, why didn’t Devil force you to take your mother’s place once she became sick?”
“When Mama met Devil she was working in a faro house as a dealer. When asked, she’d also read customers’ palms.”
“She was a fortune teller?”
“It was a family trait, something her mama taught her when she was a child, along with some voodoo.” She took another sip of the chicory-laced coffee. “After Mama predicted Devil would survive the siege of Vicksburg, he returned and convinced her to leave New Orleans with him. He had her read his palm before every raid. If she said he would be caught if he robbed a certain town’s bank, he would call off the robbery.”
“Did she have visions, too, or just read palms?” Dakota asked.
“Not everyone is half shaman like you.” Quinn shook his head.
“You have visions?” she asked Dakota, ignoring Quinn’s sarcasm.
“My mother was the daughter of the tribe’s shaman. Upon occasion I have dreams of the future. Excuse my brother for his disbelief. He’s never thought much of my visions.”
Quinn snorted sardonically. “You didn’t have one before O’Keefe nearly cut you in half, did you?”
Dakota nodded. “True, but the dreams led me to the ranch and the Captain.”
“That they did,” Quinn agreed with a nod.
“The Captain?” she asked.
“The man who adopted us and our other brothers. He took us to his ranch, where he and his wife Juanita raised us,” Dakota explained.
She looked at Quinn. “The man you told me about.”
“Yes.” Quinn sat forward, leaning both elbows on the table. “Let’s get back to the subject. So your mother used Devil’s superstition to keep him away from you?”
Obviously he was uncomfortable with the topic of their adoptive father, or was it his friend’s visions? Interesting.
“Mama read Devil’s palm one night after I’d turned twelve. She told him he would live a long rich life as long as he never harmed me.”
“And what would happen to him if he did?”
She stared into his crystal blue gaze. “She told him if he forced himself on me, then two angels of death would visit him and destroy all he had.”
Quinn whistled. “That’s some curse.”
She shrugged. “Whether you believe it or not, Devil did. And Mama reinforced it each time he looked my way. She also let me practice reading some of the other men’s palms where he could see.”
“And do you have ‘visions’ too?”
She ignored his sarcasm. “No. But I can read many things in a person’s palm. Would you like me to show you?”
They exchanged looks again.
So not good.
Then they both laid their right hands on the table, fists closed.
“Tell us what you see here, darlin’.” Quinn’s voice and eyes both held a challenge.
Slowly they uncurled their fingers.
Taking both their hands in hers, she studied them closely.
Strong male hands, calluses giving witness to them working out of doors. What set them apart from any cowboys’ hands she’d read over the years were the matching deep scars slashed from the base of their thumbs straight across their life lines and their fate lines.
They were testing her.
Lifting her gaze, she looked into Quinn’s eyes, then Dakota’s, then back at Quinn again.
“Your lives are connected, not by some twist of fate, but by choice.” She slid her thumbs over the healed scar lines. “Long ago you swore to join your lives and your fates. I suspect it was a very grievous occasion. One that marked you both deeply. It is why you trust each other thoroughly and are willing to share so many things.”
Holding his gaze with hers, she lowered her voice to just above a whisper. “Even me.”
“We are blood brothers. Our secret is bound by our blood.”
“Someday, maybe you will tell me what caused you to make this oath.” Quickly she slid her hands back into her lap and lowered her eyes. “But I do not understand what this has to do with me and how you plan to capture Devil and his men.”
“Given your history, Devil won’t believe you’d come back to him willingly, much less into his bed, correct?”
The idea made her threaten to toss up her dinner. “I’d rather bed down with a rattler.”
“And he knows that,” Dakota said, sitting back in his seat. “We’ll have to convince him that there’s a way around your mother’s prediction. Another way for him to believe he can have you without him forcing you.”
And at that moment she knew. They weren’t just going to use her to get into the camp or as bait. They planned to let Devil use her body.
The blood drained from her face and the room spun. God, she was going to be sick.
“Come here, darlin’.” Quinn took her hand and gave it a little tug.
Stunned by the realization of what they had planned, she let him pull her onto his lap there in a public place, for everyone and anyone to see. She should protest, return to her seat, but all she really wanted was to be held close in his strong arms.
“The only way for Devil to believe you’d bed him is to convince him you belong to me and you’ll do whatever I tell you.” He smoothed aside the curls clinging to her neck and leaned in to kiss her lightly just above the lace covering her collar.
How could they ask her to do this? She’d trusted Quinn with her heart. Something she swore she’d never do again after Santos. And again she was going to be used for a man’s advantage. Stupid, stupid woman.
“You won’t ever be out of my sight.”
�
��You don’t know what he’s capable of.”
“I promise you, I’ll be there. You won’t actually have to fuck him. We’ll stop him long before that happens.”
Sleeping with Devil wasn’t the only thing that scared her. She could hear the whistle of the whip again. When he learned what she’d done, he’d kill her, no matter who stood beside her.
“How will giving me to Devil help you capture him and get away in one piece?”
“You will be the distraction.” He snuggled her up against his shoulder.
“A distraction?”
Dakota stroked one hand down her arm. “While Devil is busy lusting after you, I’ll be busy plying his men with whiskey.”
“Whiskey?” She snorted. “They drink it like water.”
“Ah pet. They’ve not had my special whiskey, laced with herbs that should render them unconscious in minutes.” He winked and sat back in his chair. “It will also give them the trots the whole next day.”
She giggled, then noticed several men staring at her through the café window. She hid her face against Quinn’s shoulder and whispered, “May we leave now?”
“They making you nervous?”
“Yes.” Heat filled her face.
“Good. Let’s use it as practice.” He gently pushed her forward until she sat perched on his lap like some common doxy, his hand draped around her hips. “Kiss me.”
“Here?” She looked around, seeing censure on the faces of an older couple sitting across the room.
“We want everyone to believe you’ll do anything I ask. Allow me to touch you in any way I wish, no matter where or when.” He slid one hand beneath her skirt, gently rubbing her calf just above her boot.
He was right. If she couldn’t do this in front of strangers she’d never see again, how would she convince Devil of the ruse in the camp among men she’d threatened to shoot more than once to keep her virtue intact?
Tracing her hand up Quinn’s chest, she slowly leaned in and kissed him. Pressing deeper, she slipped her tongue out and caressed his lips until they parted. A deep moan filled her ears and as quick as that she was lost. He gripped her hip with one hand as he took control of the kiss, sliding his tongue into her mouth, probing, tasting.
Heat consumed her.
Whimpering softly, she tried to wriggle closer, parting her legs to allow him more access to her thighs and the hot core of her sex.
The Surrender of Lacy Morgan Page 15
