Bandit had never felt so thirsty in his life, but he was afraid even to lick his dusty lips. Only a couple of minutes had passed, but every heartbeat seemed like a lifetime. Would the bull never decide whether to charge or go away?
He thought he must be hearing things. As he lay there in the hot sun, watching the bull, it seemed that hoofbeats were approaching. Had the stallion turned around? Come back? Who else would be coming this way?
Cautiously, he turned his head just a little to see Amethyst on a dainty blood bay mare loping toward him. Now he forgot about himself. He couldn’t let her ride into danger, even though he was desperate for help.
He scrambled to his feet. “Aimée, look out! The bull! Get the hell out!”
The movement was all the black devil needed. It pawed the dirt and charged Bandit even as he saw Amethyst’s startled face, realized she had taken in the scene at a glance.
Instead of turning her horse away, she spurred the startled mare sharply, galloped straight for him. “Grab on, Texas!”
Damned stubborn girl! But he reached up as she thundered past, caught her saddle horn, swung up behind her. The bull paused, evidently confused. And Amethyst expertly turned her mare, galloped away.
Bandit heaved a sigh of relief, and hung onto her slim waist as the mare loped back up the trail. He turned to look behind him.
The old bull sniffed the air, looking puzzled. Then it went back to munching grass like a gentle old milk cow.
“Well, if that don’t beat all!”
Amethyst didn’t answer but slowed to a canter until they passed through the gate. Bandit slid off, closed it behind him. Only now did he feel the stiffness of strained muscles, bruised skin. “Much obliged for the rescue.” He looked up at her. “That hunk of beef was about to stomp a hole in me.”
She looked down at him coldly and held out her hand. He caught it, swung up behind her. “I didn’t do it for you,” she snapped. “I did it for Papa’s bull. When I spotted the open gate, I thought you might have come this way. I was sure of it when Blue Eyes thundered past me.”
“Never saw him bolt that way. Strange,” Bandit mused. He had both hands on her waist now. He could feel the heat of her through the pale lavender riding outfit. Her waist was so small, he could almost span it with his two hands.
“Don’t do that,” she snapped.
“Whatever do you mean?”
“Texas, you know what I mean. Stop running your hands around my waist.”
God, she felt good! “I don’t have the faintest notion what you’re palaverin’ about.” He wondered what she could do if he leaned forward, pushed her hair up, kissed the back of her neck?
“Like hell you don’t!”
He thought about it a moment, couldn’t resist. He pressed himself against her back, nuzzled along her neck. It was soft as satin, and smelled of wild violets.
“Texas, stop that!”
“Stop what?” He nibbled up and down her neck, kissing her hair.
“I—I said . . . don’t do that.” She sounded a trifle uncertain, and he heard her sigh. At that point, he forgot all caution. His hands slid upward to cup her breasts, began to fumble with the tiny buttons of the elegant riding habit.
His hands felt so good, stroking. She wanted to let him undress her, tease her nipples. Santa María! What was she thinking? She had to stop him!
“Dammit, Texas! Stop pawing me like I was a saloon whore!” She turned in the saddle, gave him a resounding slap that knocked him off the horse.
“By damn, lady, I’ve had enough! You think I’m goin’ to be enough of a gentleman to just let you keep hittin’ me?” Before she could guess his intention, he reached up and caught her arm, dragged her from her horse.
“Let go of me, you dirty cowboy!” She fought back, but he dragged her over to a nearby rock, sat on it, jerked the back of her skirt up.
“If you ain’t gonna act like a lady, I’m not gonna treat you like a lady!” He proceeded to paddle the back of her lace drawers thoroughly.
She screamed and fought him while his big hands stung her small bottom. Never had she been so humiliated! She managed to turn her head, bite his thigh.
Now he yelled and jumped to his feet, dumping her unceremoniously in the dirt. “You little vixen! Try to bite my leg off at the knee, will you?”
Never had she felt such fury. She scrambled to her feet, swinging wildly with her fists, cursing him in border Spanish.
“Nice young ladies don’t talk like that,” he scolded, retreating before her onslaught, throwing his hands up before his face to protect himself.
“Filthy hombre, you’ll think ‘nice young’ lady!” She pummeled him with both fists while he backed away. “I save your life and this is what I get!”
He caught both her small hands in his big ones. “You liar! You just got through tellin’ me you were saving your papa’s damned bull!”
Immobilized, she glared up at him. She wouldn’t admit even to herself that she’d been riding after Bandit to apologize for hitting him with her whip when she’d seen the open gate. “Satanás is a pet. He has the run of the ranch! Now let go of me!”
But he only smiled down at her, and for a moment she thought he would bend his head and kiss her. “The Durangos let a dangerous old bull like that run loose?”
If he tried to kiss her, would she fight him or would she cling to him, open her lips? She wasn’t sure, so she only shrugged. “I swear he’s harmless as a milk cow, never saw him charge anyone before.”
Bandit slowly turned loose her hands. “Harmless!” He laughed. “That animal was about to stomp me flat! But I’d swear it was my horse he was after. Anyone on the ranch mistreat that bull?”
She looked up at him, incredulous. “You must be joking! Papa would fire the man who did that! The animal is indulto, pardoned from the arena after a noble fight. The bull’s owner gave him to Papa as a gift.”
“Reckon you should pen him up then, where he won’t go after some unwary cowboy.”
She turned back to her horse, swung up into the saddle. “I’ll have one of the vaqueros move him to that big pen next to our barn.” She felt a slight smile curl her lips as she looked down at him, thinking of a perfect revenge. Bandit was afoot and wearing high-heeled cowboy boots. It would be a long, miserable walk back to the hacienda in this heat. “And now, cowboy, adiós! I’ll see you back at the ranch.”
“You wouldn’t leave me to walk all the way back?”
“Wouldn’t I?” Her bottom still smarted from his spanking. She had a feeling that when she turned her back to the mirror in her bedroom and pulled down her underwear, she’d see big, red handprints. “You just watch me!” She kneed her Paso Fino mare and started off at a walk.
Behind her, he moaned, and she turned, looked back.
He had gone to one knee. “I—I think I was hurt when I fell from my horse.”
“Texas, you liar!” She hesitated.
His hand trembled noticeably as he gestured. “No, you go on. Maybe I won’t faint out here in the heat. Maybe this hurt leg will get me back to the ranch before I die of thirst.”
“It’s not even a mile! Don’t be so dramatic!”
He didn’t answer, but seemed to try to get to his feet, then pitched forward on his face, lay still.
Suppose he really had been hurt? “Texas? Texas, dammit, answer me!”
No answer. He lay on his face in the dirt.
He was playing possum, that was all, to fool her into coming back. “You can’t fool me! I’m leaving. Walk back when you get around to it!”
She turned her horse back up the trail. “You hear me, Texas? That act doesn’t fool me!”
No answer.
She reined in, looked over her shoulder. He lay on his face, still as death, the sun glinting off the light hair. Oh, Santa María! Suppose he really was hurt? “Texas?”
When he still didn’t answer, she wheeled the dainty mare, rode back, looked down at him. “Texas, answer me!”
&nbs
p; He raised his dusty face with pronounced difficulty. “Water,” he gasped. “Oh, I’m hurt, aimée . . . water . . .”
“Oh, my God! You poor thing, and to think I was about to ride off!” She grabbed the canteen from her saddlehorn, swung down, knelt in the dust, turned him over.
“Water,” he gasped.
She gathered him into her arms, and he nestled his head against her breasts as she opened the canteen. “Here. Here’s some water.”
He groaned as he gulped it.
They were at least a mile from the ranch. What to do? “Bandit, I’ll leave you the canteen, go to the ranch for help.”
But he caught her arm, groaned again, and nuzzled deeper against her breasts. “Oh, don’t leave me, aimée, everything’s gettin’ dark . . . I reckon that old bull got me after all!”
“I thought you said the bull never touched you?”
“Did I say that? I reckon I was mistaken.” She felt his hot breath through the cloth as he nuzzled against her breasts.
Was he faking? How could she know for sure? If he was really hurt, she had to get help. Amethyst stood up suddenly. “I’ll go for help.”
“Don’t leave me,” he gasped out. “I’ll probably die while you’re gone.”
“I said I’d bring help.” She swung upon the mare. “Can you manage until I get back?”
No answer. He lay on his back now, eyes closed.
“Texas, are you all right! Answer me!”
He came up off the ground with all the grace and speed of his Indian ancestors before she could react. “I’ll answer, you sassy filly!”
He grabbed her ankle while she lashed him with the reins, tried to get away. Her startled mare snorted and stamped, but Bandit had her now, was pulling her off the horse. They both went down in a scramble of dust and lavender skirts.
“Damn you, Texas, damn you!” But before she could say anything else, his lips covered hers.
“You little devil! Thought you’d ride off and leave me to walk home, did you?” But his lips kept her from answering. “All’s fair in love and war, sweet, and I’m not sure which this is!”
“Well, I sure as hell know!” Before he seemed to realize what she was up to, she kneed him between the legs.
With an oath, he doubled up, clutching himself. She ran for her horse. But the startled mare took off running up the trail.
“Well, I hope you’re satisfied!” Arms akimbo, she looked from the man to the disappearing horse. “Now we’re both stranded!”
“You’ve just about destroyed my manhood and all you can think of is how far it is back to the house?” He said weakly, stumbling over to sit down in the shade of a big mesquite.
“Oh, stop whining!” she snapped, chasing a fly away from her face. “If you’d have behaved, all this wouldn’t have happened.” She strode over, flopped down in the shade next to him. “When the horses turn up in the yard, some vaqueros will come looking for us.”
“I reckon I owe you an apology, Amethyst,” he said earnestly. “I can’t help myself around you. You’re prettier than a speckled pup, and I can’t control myself when you get near me.”
She gave him an icy stare. “And just how many times have you used that line on women before?”
He grinned in that devilishly, lopsided manner. “Oh, a few dozen, I reckon. But this is the first time I’ve ever admitted it . . . or even meant it.”
She shrugged and lay back on the dry grass. “You need to carry a shovel with you.”
“What d’you mean?” He raised one roguish eyebrow.
“You know what I mean,” she said pointedly. “I feel like I’m up to my knees in an uncleaned stable.”
He lay down next to her. “I know what you think, aimée, but I’m loco over you. That’s why I’m involved in this masquerade. It isn’t for the money. I’ve got plenty of money. I could just ride off into the sunset with lots of cold cash.”
She turned her head, looked into his pale eyes. Foronce, he appeared to be sincere. “How do you expect me to believe you? All you tejanos are incredibly arrogant liars.”
He raised up on one elbow, looked down at her, winked. “That’s because we’re proud people. We were our own country for ten years before we became a state. That was a step down for us. We’re Texas proud.”
She frowned at him. “The Bible says: ‘The meek shall inherit the earth.’”
He grinned in that infuriating manner. “Maybe so, sweet, but the proud’ll get Texas!”
“Oh, you!” She tried to twist away from him but he caught her.
“I want you, aimée, and I intend to have you. There’s no way out for you unless you can convince your papa I’m a bad choice so he’ll let you break the engagement.”
“Awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“No, sweet, I’m sure of you,” he declared, and before she could stop him, he leaned over and kissed her, his lips gentle as the brush of a butterfly’s wing.
She raised her hand to slap him as his mouth moved against hers, opening her lips. She’d forgotten the taste of those lips, the sensation of his warm tongue probing between hers. The arm she reached up slowly went around his neck.
He leaned forward so that he was half lying on her. She could feel the hard heat of him all the way down her body, through their clothing.
His free hand stroked her breast and she felt it swell, the nipple go turgid beneath fabric and his seeking hand. She didn’t protest when his fingers reached for her buttons.
She lay there, eyes closed, feeling his fingers on her skin, then the warmth of the day against her naked breasts as he opened her bodice, bared her upper torso.
“Sweet, you have the most beautiful pair I’ve ever seen. And they’re mine-all mine.”
She didn’t answer, her eyes still closed as his head bent.
Was she insane? She should slap him, scramble to her feet, adjust her clothing, and start walking.
But then his warm, wet mouth closed over her breast and she forgot everything but the feel of his mouth sucking her nipple to a hard point, the heat of his hand pushing up her skirt.
“We—we should go back,” she whispered. “They’ll be looking for us.”
But his hand was inside the top of her lace drawers, pushing them down. “Let them look,” he said, “it’ll take them awhile to find us. Touch me, aimée, as I’m touching you.”
Very shyly, her hand reached for the buttons of his pants, freed his throbbing hardness. He groaned aloud at her touch, pressed against her. His maleness was hot and pulsating as she grasped it while he toyed and teased her femininity with his fingers. She could not stop herself from tilting herself up so that he could reach still deeper.
“I want to feel you all over,” he murmured, sitting up abruptly to unbutton his shirt. “Take your blouse off, sweet, I want to see you naked.”
She was shocked at the idea. “Naked out here in broad daylight? Suppose someone comes?”
He grinned, stood up, pulled off a boot. “It’ll take them awhile to find us, remember?”
It was the most forbidden, the most delicious idea she’d ever heard. She stood up, began to strip off her clothes.
In the distance, she heard a horse’s hooves. “Someone’s coming!” She clutched her clothes against her.
But Blue Eyes topped the rise, looking slightly chagrined as he trotted up.
Bandit laughed. “So you came back, old rascal! Aren’t you ashamed for being scared of that bull!” He turned and looked at Amethyst. “You ever been ridin’ naked?”
It was the naughtiest, most exciting idea she had ever heard. “Santa María, no! Have you?”
“Nope, but it sounds like fun!”
Even as she watched, he unsaddled the horse, turned to grin at her. “Let’s go, sweet.”
She paused only a moment, then hurried to pull the rest of her clothes off. He was right: They were in a deserted area of the ranch and it would be awhile before the vaqueros backtracked her horse.
Bandit st
ood grinning at her, as naked and virile as he’d been on the creek bank. She moved gingerly across the grass, barefooted. “This is a wild, loco idea.”
“Ain’t it, though?” He swung up on the horse, reached down for her.
She hadn’t realized he was so strong. His callused hands felt hot on her bare skin as he lifted her up before him, and the stallion felt like hot velvet between her thighs as she slid back to press against the man’s hardness.
He murmured in pleasure, his hands coming around to stroke her thighs, her breasts, while his face buried itself in the mop of hair falling down her neck. “Oh, sweet . . .”
“I thought you promised me a ride.” His fingers were cupping, stroking her breasts.
“You’ll think ‘ride,’” he whispered, his breath hot on the back of her neck. “Let’s get over there under that tree and—”
“Not yet!” She laughed, giddy with the naughtiness of what they were doing. This big Texan had a way of making her forget everything, do forbidden things she’d never dreamed of. Like riding bareback, both of them naked as the day they were born.
The big stallion felt warm against her thighs, under her small bottom. Bandit’s hands stroked her thighs, her belly, her breasts. He was hard up against her back, and she could feel the sinewy muscle of him all the way down, the maleness of him probing against her hips.
He clucked to the stallion and it started off in a circle at a slow lope, powerful and hot between her legs. No wonder men don’t like women riding astride, she thought, it gives them erotic fantasies.
She smiled to herself, thinking what a picture they must make loping along, two naked people on a barebacked horse. The stallion loped in an easy circle back to the mesquite trees.
Bandit reined it in, slid off, and held up his arms. “Come to me, sweet.”
Her body seemed to have a mind of its own. She slid off the horse into his arms in complete surrender. “Ride me, Texas, ride me.”
He swung her up in his arms, looked down at her. “Come here, little filly,” he whispered.
Letting the stallion contentedly graze, he carried her over to the shade of a big mesquite, lay her down on the dry, scented grass.
Bandit's Embrace (The Durango Family) Page 21
