Devil's Gambit

by Lisa Jackson

  “Except me?” Tears began to scald her eyes.

  “I didn’t lie about Stasia.”

  “You omitted the facts, Zane. In order to deceive me. Call it what you will. In my book, it’s lying.”

  A small muscle worked in the corner of his jaw, and he had to fight the urge to shake her, make her see what was so blindingly clear to him. He couldn’t. He’d wounded her enough as it was. Tiffany seemed to stare right through him. “I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you, Tiffany,” he whispered. “I wouldn’t do anything that would ever make you doubt me.”

  Her throat tightened painfully, and she squeezed her eyes against the hot tears forming behind her eyelids. “I want to trust you, Zane. God, I want to trust you,” she admitted. “It’s just that you’ve come here when everything seems to be falling apart...”

  “And you blame me?”

  “No!”

  “Then look at me, damn it!” he insisted. Her eyes opened and caught in his silvery stare. “I love you, Tiffany Rhodes, and I’ll do everything in my power to prove it.”

  She held up a protesting palm before he could say anything else. She felt so open and raw. Though he was saying the words she longed to hear, she couldn’t believe him.

  He took her trembling hand and covered it with his. “You’re going to listen to me, lady,” he swore. “Ever since I met you that first morning when Rod Crawford was here, you’ve doubted me. I can’t say that I blame you because I came here with the express purpose of taking your farm from you...by any means possible.”

  Her eyes widened at his admission.

  “But all that changed,” he conceded, “when I met you and began to fall in love with you.”

  “I...I wish I could believe you,” Tiffany whispered. “More than anything I want to believe you.” Her voice was raspy and thick with emotion. She felt as if her heart were bursting, and she knew that she was admitting far more than she should.

  His fingers tightened over her shoulders. “Believe.”

  “Oh, Zane...”

  “Tiffany, please. Listen. I want you to marry me.”

  The words settled in the kitchen and echoed in Tiffany’s mind. Her knees gave way and she fell against him. “I want you to be my wife, bear my children, stand at my side....” He kissed the top of her head. “I want you to be with me forever.”

  She felt the tears stream down her face, and she wondered if they were from joy or sadness. “I can’t,” she choked. “I can’t until I know for certain that Ellery is dead.”

  Zane’s back stiffened. “I thought you were convinced.”

  “I am.” Her voice trembled. “But what if there’s a chance that he’s alive?”

  His arms wrapped around her in desperation, and he buried his head into the hollow of her shoulder. “I’ll find out,” he swore, one fist clenching in determination. “Once and for all, I’ll find out just what happened to your husband.”

  “And if he’s alive?” she whispered.

  “He’ll wish he were dead for the hell he’s put you through.”

  She shook her head and pushed herself out of his possessive embrace. “No, Zane. If Ellery’s alive, he’s still my husband.”

  “A husband who used and betrayed you.” Anger stormed in his eyes, and his muscles tensed at the thought of Ellery Rhodes claiming Tiffany as his wife after all these years. The man couldn’t possibly be alive!

  “But my husband nonetheless.”

  “You’re still in love with him,” he charged.

  “No,” she admitted, closing her eyes against the traitorous truth. “The only man I’ve ever loved is you.”

  Zane relaxed a bit and gently kissed her eyelids. “Trust me, Tiffany. Trust me to take care of you, no matter what happens in the future.” He reached for her and savagely pressed her body to his, lowering his head and letting his lips capture hers.

  Willingly, her arms encircled his neck, and she let her body fit against his. The warmth of him seemed to seep through her clothes and generate a new heat in her blood.

  When his tongue rimmed her lips, she shuddered. “I love you, Zane,” she murmured as her breath mingled and caught with his. “And I want to be with you.”

  He leaned over and placed an arm under the crook of her knees before lifting her off the floor and carrying her out of the kitchen. She let her head rest against his shoulder and wondered at the sanity of loving such a passionate man. Zane’s emotions, whether love or hate, ran deep.

  Carefully he mounted the stairs and carried her to her bedroom. Rain slid down the windows and the room was illuminated only by the shadowy light from the security lamps near the barns. “I never wanted to fall in love with you,” he admitted as he stood her near the bed and his fingers found the knot to the belt of her robe. Slowly the ties loosened, and he pushed the robe over her shoulders to expose the satiny texture of her skin.

  She was naked except for a silky pair of panties. Zane kissed her lips, the hollow of her throat, the dark stiffening tips of each gorgeous breast as he lowered himself to his knees.

  She wanted to fall to the floor with him, but his hands held her upright as slowly he removed the one scanty piece of cloth keeping her from him. His fingers lingered on her skin and rubbed her calves and thighs as he kissed her abdomen, moistening the soft skin with his tongue. His eyes closed, and Tiffany felt his eyelashes brush her navel. Tingling sensations climbed upward through her body, heating her blood as it raced through her veins.

  The heat within her began to turn liquid as his tongue circled her navel. Tiffany’s knees felt weak, and if it hadn’t been for the strong arms supporting her, she would have slid to the floor and entwined herself with him.

  Zane’s hands reached upward and touched the pointed tip of one swollen breast. It hardened expectantly against the soft pressure of his fingers and Tiffany closed her eyes against the urge to lie with him. Zane groaned against her abdomen, and his hot breath warmed her skin.

  “Zane,” she pleaded, the sound coming from deep in her throat as her fingers caught in his black hair. “Love me.”

  “I do, sweet lady,” he murmured against her skin, his warm hands pressing against the small of her back, pushing her closer to him.

  As if in slow motion, he forced her backward, and she fell onto the bed. Her hair splayed against the comforter in tangled disarray. Her cheeks were flushed, as were her proud breasts with their alluring dark peaks.

  As she watched him, Zane quickly removed and discarded his clothes. When completely naked, he came to her. Lying beside her elegant nude body, he caught his fingers in the silken tresses of her hair and rolled atop her. Corded male muscles strained against hers as he captured one blossoming nipple in his mouth. His tongue slid enticingly over the soft mound, and she cradled his head against her, moaning in contentment as he suckled. Her breasts, swollen with desire, ached for his soothing touch, yearned for the tenderness of his lips and tongue.

  “Tiffany, I love you,” he vowed as his hands roved over her skin, exploring the exquisite feel of her. His lips murmured words of love against her ear, forcing the heat within her to expand until she could stand the torment no longer.

  “Please,” she whispered into his ear, her fingers running over the smooth skin of his upper arms and back, feeling the ripple of solid muscles as he positioned himself above her. “Now!”

  The ache in his loins throbbed for release, and he took her eagerly, becoming one with her in the heated splendor of his love. His lovemaking was violent, explosive, as he claimed her for his own and purged from her body forever any thoughts of the one man who had betrayed them both.

  Tiffany soared to the heavens, her soul melding with Zane’s as the clouds of passion burst open and showered her in hot bursts of satiation. She shuddered against his hard male frame; her love for him was complete and infinite. Tiffany knew that no matter what the future held, she would never stop loving him.

  “I love you,” she heard him vow again and again. Listening to the wo
nderful sound, she smiled and curled her body close to his to fall into a deep, exhausted sleep.

  * * *

  IT WAS BARELY dawn when Tiffany awakened. She reached for Zane, but he was gone. The bed sheets were cold. Thoughts of the night before began swimming in her sleepy mind; then she heard him walk back into the room.

  “Zane?” she murmured, groggily trying to focus her eyes.

  He came to the bed and sat on the edge near her. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  He was completely dressed, as if he were leaving. “What’s going on?” she asked, glancing at the clock. It was only five-thirty. Even Mac didn’t start work until after six.

  “I have to go.”

  “Where?”

  “Back to San Francisco.”

  She looked into his eyes and saw the sadness lingering in the gray depths. “Why?” she asked, forcing herself into a sitting position. She tugged at the comforter to cover her naked breasts and then leaned forward so that her face was near his. Something was wrong. She could feel it. In the course of a few short hours, Zane’s feelings toward her had changed. Her heart, filled with love of the last few hours, twisted painfully.

  “I have things I have to do,” he said. “You’ll just have to trust me.”

  “Does this have anything to do with Dustin?” she asked, shivering from the cold morning air.

  “I don’t know.” He placed a warm hand on her shoulder. “Just trust me, okay?”

  She nodded and forced a frail smile. “You’ll be back?”

  He laughed and broke the tension in the room. “As soon as I can. If I’m not back in a couple of days, I’ll call.”

  “Promises, promises,” she quipped, trying to sound lighthearted. He was leaving. Her heart seemed to wither inside her.

  “I left the phone number of my hotel on the notepad in the kitchen. If you get lonely—”

  “I already am.” Lovingly she touched the red scratch on his face. “My hero,” she whispered with a seductive smile.

  “Hardly.”

  She curled her hand around his neck and pulled his face next to hers.

  “Look, lady, if you don’t cut this out, I’ll never get out of here,” he growled, but a pleased grin stole over his angular features to charmingly display the hint of straight white teeth against his dark skin.

  “That’s the idea.”

  Zane let out an exasperated sigh. “Oh, Tiffany, what am I going to do with you?”

  “I don’t know,” she murmured against his ear as her fingers began working at the buttons of his shirt. “Use your imagination.”

  An hour later he was gone, and Tiffany felt more alone than she ever had in her life. She was more alone than she had been on the morning her mother had abandoned her, for then she had still had Edward, and when her father had died, she had married Ellery. When Ellery was suddenly killed, Tiffany had relied on Dustin.

  Now, as she cinched the belt of her robe more tightly around her waist and stared out the window at the rain-washed countryside, Tiffany was completely alone. She had no one to rely upon but herself. She shivered more from dread than from the morning air, and she watched as Zane’s car roared to life and disappeared through the trees.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  AFTER ZANE HAD gone, Tiffany found it impossible to return to bed. Instead she dressed and walked outside, stopping only to scratch Wolverine behind the ears. The dog responded by wagging his tail enthusiastically.

  “Some hero you are,” Tiffany reprimanded fondly. “Where were you last night when I needed you?”

  She refilled Wolverine’s bowls and walked to the stallion barn. The rain had become no more than a drizzle, but the ground was still wet, and when she ventured off the pavement, her boots sank into the soaked earth.

  Mac was already up and checking on Moon Shadow’s injury.

  “So how is he?” Tiffany asked, patting the black stallion’s neck and forcing a smile at the grizzled old trainer. Mac had slept in his clothes and it was obvious from the way he was walking that his arthritis was bothering him.

  “Moon Shadow?” He pointed a thumb in the direction of the horse’s head. “He’s fine.”

  “And you?”

  “Getting too old for all this excitement.”

  “Why don’t you take a day off?” Tiffany asked. “You deserve it.”

  “Not now, Missy,” he said, shaking his head. “What would I do while the missus knits and watches those soap operas? Nope. I’m better off here. ’Sides, I want to see what Vance has to say after he looks this old boy over.” Mac gently slapped Moon Shadow’s rump, and the stallion snorted and tossed his head in the air.

  “I thought I’d check on Shadow’s Survivor next,” Tiffany said.

  “Good idea.”

  Mac walked with her and Wolverine trotted along behind. The rain had stopped and the clouds were beginning to break apart, promising a warm spring day. Tiffany realized for the first time that the flowering trees were beginning to bloom. Pink and white blossoms colored the leafless trees with the promise of spring.

  “Say, Missy,” Mac said as they approached the foaling shed.

  “Yes?”

  “I noticed that Sheridan’s car is gone.”

  “He left early this morning.”

  “Because of what I said last night?”

  “No.” Tiffany shook her head and smiled sadly.

  “I was out of line.”

  “You were concerned. We all were...are.” She ran her fingers through her hair and squared her shoulders. “Something’s got to give, doesn’t it? We can’t go on this way much longer.”

  Mac frowned and reached for the handle of the door. “You’re right—it’s time our luck changed, for the better.”

  They walked inside the foaling shed and heard the soft nickering of Alexander’s Lady. A tiny nose attempted to push through the rails of the stall. “Here’s our good news,” Tiffany said with a smile as she tried to reach out and touch the skittish filly. “Maybe I should change her name to that. How does Good News strike you?”

  “Better’n Shadow’s Survivor or whatever the hell you came up with before,” the old man chuckled.

  “I don’t know....”

  “She’s your horse, Missy. You name her whatever you like.” Mac grinned at the sprightly little filly. “Just wait, little one,” he said to the inquisitive young horse. “As soon as we get the okay from the vet, you’ll get your first look at the world.”

  * * *

  THE REST OF the day was filled with more good news. Two owners called to say that their mares had delivered healthy foals sired by Moon Shadow, and Vance Geddes checked Moon Shadow’s leg injury and gave the stallion a clean bill of health.

  “As soon as that tendon heals, he’ll be good as new,” Vance predicted after examining the stallion.

  “He sure knows how to get into trouble,” Tiffany complained with a fond look at the horse in question.

  “Maybe it’s not the horse,” Vance suggested.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Seems to me, he had a little help getting out of the stall last night.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Got any ideas who unlatched his stall door?” Vance asked, placing all his veterinary supplies back in his case and walking out of the stallion barn.

  “No. I thought it might be vandals, but Zane seems to think it was an inside job, so to speak.”

  “Somebody with a grudge?”

  Tiffany lifted her shoulders. “I couldn’t guess who.”

  “You got any trouble with employees?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Haven’t fired anyone, a stable boy...or maybe done business with someone else, made a competitor angry?”

  “No.” She sighed wearily and spotted Louise’s car rumbling down the long drive. “I’ve thought and thought about it. I’m sure I’ve made a few enemies, but no one that would want to hurt me or my horses.... At least I don’t think so.”

  Vance
put his bag into the truck and grimaced. He turned his kindly bespectacled eyes on Tiffany. “Just be careful, okay? Anyone who would let Moon Shadow out would do just about anything to get what he wants.”

  “If only I knew what that was,” she said anxiously. “Any news on the foals’ deaths?”

  “Not yet,” Vance said, sliding into his pickup, “but I’ve got a couple of new ideas. They’re long shots...probably end up in dead ends, but maybe...”

  “Keep me posted.”

  “Will do.” Vance had just pushed his key into the lock and was about to start the engine, but Louise shouted at him. “Hey, wait!” the housekeeper called as she bustled up to Vance’s truck. She was waving a newspaper in the air. “Look, here, on page one.” She proudly handed Tiffany the sports section from the Times. In the lower left-hand corner was a picture of Journey’s End along with the article written by Nancy Emerson.

  Tiffany’s eyes skimmed the columns of fine print and her face broke into a smile. Then, slowly, she reread Nancy’s report, which did bring up the subject of the dead colts but also concentrated on Moon Shadow’s career as well as his two strongest progeny, Devil’s Gambit and Journey’s End. The article ended on an upbeat note, suggesting that Moon Shadow’s victories on the racetrack and as a proved sire overshadowed the unfortunate deaths of the four foals.

  “Wonderful,” Tiffany said, feeling a little relief. “At least we got a chance for rebuttal.”

  “Now,” Vance stated, “if we can just come up with the reason those foals died.”

  “You think you’re on to something?”

  “I’m not sure,” Vance replied. “I’ll let you know in a couple of days. Like I said—it could be another dead end.”

  “Let’s hope not,” Tiffany prayed fervently.

  “Come on, you two,” Louise reprimanded. “Things are turning around, just you wait and see.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Tiffany replied.

  “Why? What happened?”

  “Moon Shadow got out last night. It looks as if someone did it deliberately.”