“Dangerous.”
He chuckled. “Why do you say that?”
“You make me want to do things I shouldn’t.” Her brandy eyes darkened as she lifted her arms around his neck. “Like this.”
“Mmmm, I like that.” Her hair smelled fresh and clean, like rain. The column of her throat felt silky smooth where he placed feather-like kisses.
She sighed, melting closer until he could feel the firm peaks of her nipples pressing against his chest.
When he reached inside the silk folds of her nightrail to cup one breast, her sighs turned to gasps. The sound of her desire triggered memories of the first time they’d made love. His blood heated. “My God, you’re beautiful.”
The next thing he knew, her lips had found his.
The hunger he’d been holding inside from the moment he saw her standing in the doorway, looking sleep-tossed and fresh from her dreams came unleashed. And suddenly the sweet flicks of her tongue against his turned his seduction upside down.
“So are you,” she breathed against his neck.
He gazed down into her warm eyes to find tiny green sparks flashing like hot emeralds. “And you call me dangerous.” Before she could protest, he scooped her up in his arms to carry her to the bedchamber. “I think you could give me a lesson or two.”
When he set her down on the edge of the bed, she braced her hands beside her and smiled a shy smile. When he began to undress, she watched with keen interest—lips half parted, head tilted curiously to one side, not saying a thing.
By the time he shed his coat and unbuttoned his shirt, the excitement was too much to bear. It was damn difficult to unbutton his pants. When she licked her tongue across her top lip, he felt like the opening act in a traveling dance hall show. Every part of his body tightened. His palms began to sweat.
The fact that she seemed to have no idea what she was doing made it all the more erotic.
His voice came low and hoarse, “I don’t think it’s fair unless we both take off our clothes.”
“You’re right.” Her voice sounded breathless and husky. She sprang to her feet to untie her silk wrapper. It slid to the floor in a blue pool around her feet. She grabbed the bottom of her gauzy linen shift to pull it over her head. Instead of shielding herself or quickly scurrying into bed as Heather would do, she stared right back at him with smoldering eyes.
He took a step forward, needing to touch her, but she was already coming to him. He reached out to stroke her cheek with the back of his hand. “Why is it that I can’t keep my hands off you?”
“I don’t know.” Her hands trembled as she ran them down the length of his chest to his belly, but she looked him straight in the eye. “I like touching you, too.”
Blood raced through his veins in a hot gush. He’d never met a woman so innocent, yet bold. He crushed his mouth against her lips, and she returned his kiss with such gusto, he began to wonder who she’d been practicing on. The thought of her kissing another man tightened his gut. All of Christopher’s insinuations came flooding back. If he found out Christopher had touched her, he’d kill him.
Nat pushed the thought aside, deepening his kiss, running his hands over her full perfect breasts, down the gentle curve of her hips. As he backed her slowly toward the bed, he found himself quivering from the inside out, yearning to feel her lovely body next to his, to get into her soul the way she’d gotten into his.
His mind said wait—take it slow. But the sight of all those glossy waves spread across the pillow drove him over the edge. He couldn’t wait.
When he thrust into her, she was ready—hot and slick and tight. His heart beat hard and fast. She met his every thrust, gasping against his ear, clawing at his back, pushing him ever deeper.
He held back as long as he could, with all of his strength. Then, just as his began to lose control, as the reins began to slip, she cried out. He groaned in blissful release as he burst over the finish line in sweet victory. His pulse thundered in his ears, his whole body shuddered, every molecule of his being cheered.
He wanted to stay like that forever—listening to her heart beat fast—feeling her breath rasp against his cheek.
Christie!
Sweet, sweet Christie!
What was she doing to him?
He rolled over, collapsing against the pillow.
Lord have mercy!
What had he gotten himself into?
This woman was driving him mad.
If he had any sense at all, he’d jump out of bed and run like hell.
Before his life was turned upside down.
• • •
A firm, persistent knock roused Christie from her dreams.
Mercy!
Who could that be this time of night? She rolled over onto her side. The light filtering through the cabin window told her that night had fled. Morning had come fast and furious on the blissful heels of sleep.
She eased herself from the bed, not wanting to disturb Nat. If he did wake, hopefully he’d have the sense to stay put. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined having to hide a lover in her room. But neither had she dreamed she’d meet a man like Nat.
Leigh never entered her bedchamber if the door was closed. She’d just have to sneak Nat out after Leigh went to sleep.
After pulling on her shift and securing her wrapper around her waist, she crept out the bedchamber door.
She opened the cabin door to discover Captain Jackson’s smiling face. “Good morning, Miss Wallace. I came to inquire after your health, and of course to see if you’ve located your money?”
Christie blinked. She’d almost forgotten about the theft. Nat had a way of doing that—making her forget everything but him. “That’s very kind of you.”
“Perhaps I could assist in the search.” He peered past her into the cabin. “Often we overlook things when we’re distressed, even if they’re staring us in the face.”
“No!” The thought of Captain Jackson striding into her bedchamber, to find Nat asleep under the covers, sent heat rushing to her cheeks. “I mean, that isn’t necessary. You see it was all a big misunderstanding. My cousin borrowed the money without bothering to tell me. I’m sorry to have put you to so much trouble.”
“No trouble, no trouble at all. I couldn’t bear the thought of you being destitute.” His tone grew earnest, his gaze searching. “I’d like to offer you whatever financial support you need.”
“Oh no,” she started to say, then it struck her that she might be destitute after all. Leigh could have lost the money. In all the excitement, she hadn’t had the chance to bring him to task over it. For all she knew, he’d gambled away every last cent. She might not have enough for passage back to Sacramento, let alone a train ticket home. “I mean, I couldn’t accept any money from you, unless you considered it a loan.”
“Of course,” he said with an obliging smile. “If that would make you feel better.”
“That won’t be necessary, Christopher,” Nat drawled over the Captain’s head.
Christie gave a sharp gasp. She turned to stare at the bedchamber door, then back at Nat. He must have crawled out the cabin window. But how had he dressed so fast?
“Let’s not talk in the corridor,” Nat said, pushing his way through the door forcing Christopher to take a quick step back or be trampled under his feet.
Captain Jackson scowled at Nat under a darkening brow.
Nat didn’t look too happy either. The tender stranger had disappeared to be replaced by the insolent ruffian she knew so well.
“Where have you been?” the captain demanded after shutting the door. “Holt and I have been waiting for you in the dining room for over an hour.”
“I bumped into an old friend last night.” Nat shrugged. “We got to talking and before I knew it, well, one thing led to another and here I am.”
Christie’s cheeks suffused with heat. “Please excuse me gentleman, but I need to get dressed.” She hastened to her bedchamber, eager to escape the crackling tensi
on in the room.
Unfortunately, the walls were a tad thin.
“So, who was this mysterious woman you met up with last night?” The captain demanded as she yanked her shift off over her head.
“No one you know,” Nat said in velvety tones. “An old acquaintance.”
Christie snatched her emerald silk gown from the wardrobe. Was that the best he could come up with—an old acquaintance?
The captain’s voice held disbelief. “She must be more than an acquaintance to spend the entire night in her cabin.”
“It’s not what you think.” The lie seemed to roll off Nat’s tongue. “It was completely innocent. She’s the daughter of an old friend—rather homely, and to be honest, as frigid as the day is long.”
Christie gasped.
Homely!
She rolled on her white, silk stockings with furious speed. Wait until she got her hands on him.
Frigid indeed!
If she was frigid, Flossie was a saint!
By the time she flung open the bedchamber door the Captain had fled. “Frigid?” she huffed. “I don’t remember any complaints.”
“No complaints.” He flashed a heart-stopping smile. I mean it was good, but—”
She gasped. “But what?” Was he saying she imagined his pleasure last night? “And to think I wasted my time offering you comfort last night!”
“Comfort?” He laughed. “You were as hot as a whore in a one man town.”
“Ohhh!” She couldn’t believe her ears. “That is a terrible thing to say. After relieving me of my virtue, seducing me—in a barn no less.”
“Don’t you dare pin this on me!” His smile faded, and she realized he’d been teasing her all along. “I didn’t drag you to bed last night. If you didn’t want it to happen, you should have run like hell when I told you to the first time.”
“Oh, very well,” she conceded with ill grace. “You’re right. I did want it to happen, and I enjoyed every minute of it. I don’t regret it and I never shall. There, are you happy?”
He flashed a wolfish smile. “Not as happy as I was last night.” He made to take her in his arms.
She twirled away. “Hence your glowing report to Captain Jackson.”
He raised a brow. “Would you rather I told him the woman I made love to last night was in her bedchamber getting dressed.”
“No! Of course not.” She didn’t know what she wanted him to say—something. Oh yes she did. She wanted him to say she was the most desirable woman he’d ever made love to—that last night meant something—that he felt the same connection to her that she felt to him. But she couldn’t very well come right out and say that. Instead she said, “But must you to go to such lengths to degrade my character?”
“I was protecting you.” He folded his arms across his chest, giving her a long look. “I think you know that.”
“Yes.” She couldn’t help but smile.
“Good.” He strode for the door. “Oh,” He paused with his hand on the knob, “And the next time you’re in need of cash, come to me. At least you’ll know I won’t be expecting anything in return.” He winked. “Except, maybe a little comfort now and then.”
Christie stared at the closed door, mouth flapped wide in outrage.
Ohh!
Come to him indeed?
Arrogant devil!
She might better poke out an eye and start begging on the streets. Of course she couldn’t take money from him—not unless it was a loan. Taking money from a man who wasn’t a relative would make her no better than Flossie.
Of course, had she been Flossie, she might have pointed a gun at Leigh’s head and demanded her money right back.
Perhaps she still would.
• • •
There.
Christie gave a final pat to the French roll at the back of her head, then replaced the ivory mirror on the top of the dressing table. It wasn’t a masterpiece or as elegant a coiffure as Inez might create, but it would do. Come hell or high water she was getting out of this cabin tonight.
The Beaton’s invitation to dinner came on the heels of a fretful morning, offering the perfect excuse to escape her confinement and her fearful contemplations of how to get home.
It seemed the paddle-wheeler’s return to Sacramento had been delayed, pending the sheriff’s investigation. Just as well, since Leigh had returned to inform Christie they were penniless. She had no doubt Captain Jackson would waive the cost of their return passage to Sacramento, but she still had no train ticket home.
She refused to borrow money from Nat.
And if she couldn’t borrow money from Nat, then borrowing from Captain Jackson was out of the question as well. She needed time to figure out what she should do. Or if she need do anything at all, depending on what Leigh had to say when he showed his thieving face.
He was out trying his luck with Flossie’s money. Like a true survivor Flossie had grabbed on to the first ship that passed in the night. Now Leigh and Flossie were banded together in an effort to stay afloat.
Christie heaved a sigh.
Pale gold silk rustled below the voluptuous skirts of her gown as she glided to the bed to collect her black velvet cape. But something out of the corner of her eye brought her up short. She drew closer to the bedside table. A neat stack of bills peeked out from beneath the base of the brass oil lamp.
Nat.
He must have put it there before his cloak and dagger dive out the window. She opened the roll of bills, spreading it like a fan.
Her mouth gaped.
Good gracious!
There must be a hundred dollars here.
Well!
She couldn’t possibly accept it. He’d have to take it right back. She wasn’t accepting a dime from him.
And when she saw him at the Beaton’s dinner party, she’d tell him just that.
• • •
Nat whirled Mrs. Beaton around the dance floor, a half smile playing about his lips.
Christie couldn’t help but stare as Captain Jackson glided her around the Beaton’s ballroom. Nat appeared deliciously handsome dressed all in black. His grace and confidence was devastating to watch. After making love with a man such as that, the thought of spending her life as a spinster seemed too much to bear.
Why must he be so irresistible—so overpoweringly masculine? Of course he was cynical and pig-headed as well. But who could think about that when his hands were caressing your skin—making your body scream and your thoughts go wild?
He was doing it now, twenty feet away, with only a glance.
A room crammed full of people and yet he seemed to be the only one there.
She should never have let him make love to her a second time. Once to appease her curiosity was understandable. Twice was madness—or simply lust. Maybe both. Or was it more? She had no thoughts for other men. Only him.
She looked away, for fear he might notice her staring, and read her thoughts—hear her mind say, I want you near me now—touching me, holding me, kissing me …
A kiss—that was how it started.
No. It had started long before that—in the blue fire of his eyes when he stopped her on the street that day in Murdock.
But it had to end.
He wasn’t the marrying kind, even if her father would allow it, which he wouldn’t. Not that she’d let her father stop her if she made up her mind. But that was madness. She couldn’t wait around forever for Nat to fall in love with her. Her family was expecting her home. She had responsibilities.
The music stopped.
Christie blinked under the shooting prisms of the glittering chandeliers. She’d danced an entire waltz in Captain Jackson’s arms, hardly realizing he was there.
“I think we both could do with a glass of champagne,” he said as he led her from the floor. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
Mrs. Beaton and Nat glided toward her, talking and laughing.
“Mr. Randall tells me he must leave. I told him he couldn’t pos
sibly do so without having a dance with you first.” Mrs. Beaton beamed, flicking open her silver fan. “You’re both our guests of honor. It’s only fitting you get out there and show the rest of them how it’s done. Oh dear! Oh my!” She waved across the dance floor toward the entrance. “There’s Maxine! I must get to her before anyone else does. She cannot hear this story from another person’s lips.” Mrs. Beaton hustled off in a swish of silk.
It was the opportunity Christie had been waiting for.
She pulled the roll of bills from her handbag, shoved it into Nat’s hand. “Thank you, but I can’t possibly accept this.”
His mouth flattened. “You’d take Christopher’s loan over mine.”
“No!”
“I hope you realize what strings are attached.” Nat’s sapphire eyes turned to midnight. “He’s in love with you, you know.”
“How can he be in love with me?” Obviously Nat was mistaken. “He hardly knows me.”
“Fine, he’s infatuated with you.” Nat flashed a wry smile. “And by taking his money, you’re leading him on. Not to mention the fact that he hasn’t a spare dime to his name. Everything he has is invested in his boat. If you take his money, he’ll have nothing left for emergencies.”
“I have no intention of taking his money!” It stuck in her craw that Nat imagined her so irresponsible. “Or yours, for that matter.”
“Don’t be such a stubborn little fool. It’s just a loan.” He pressed the roll of money back into her hand. “You can wire it back to my bank in Sacramento when you get home—with interest if you like.”
She slapped the money back into his hand. “I don’t want it.”
“What do you plan to do?” His sapphire eyes sparked. “Work your way home to Boston?” His gaze bore into her. “I would have never thought you were the sort to let pride get in the way of what you want.”
Christie stiffened. “I’ll wire my father.”
“And what will you do in the meantime?” Nat tilted his dark head, slicing her a hard look. “Live off of Christopher’s charity, while he grows more attached to you every day?”
Loving the Lawmen Page 55
