Bandit's Embrace (The Durango Family)

by Georgina Gentry

  He kissed her closed eyelids, the hollow of her throat. She could feel his tongue warm and wet against the pulse of her throat as his lips slid down to kiss between her breasts. Now his mouth probed and sucked at the hollow of her navel.

  “Texas, I—I want—”

  “I know what you want, sweet Aimée,” he whispered and his lips moved lower still.

  She felt a sudden horror as the heat of his breath blew against the dark triangle of her thighs. “No! Not there! Surely you don’t intend to kiss me there.”

  But his lips were already there, his big hands reaching up to part her silken thighs. She tried to protest, but her words died on her lips, were replaced by a gasp of surrender as a delicious thrill swept through her. His teeth nibbled gently, his hot tongue sucked and stabbed . . . deep . . . deeper. . . .

  Without thinking, her hand reached down to clasp his swollen, throbbing manhood; felt the virile drops of seed on her hands. And suddenly, to touch him wasn’t enough. She wanted to kiss him, taste him as he kissed her.

  She moved to place her head against his groin. Did she really want to do that? Then his tongue probed within her and she wanted him as she had never thought she could want a man. Waves of feeling swept over her, inspired by his greedy, seeking mouth, and she spread her legs wide so her body was at his mercy. Then she took his swollen manhood in her lips, sucked gently. She wanted him, wanted all of him. His tongue seemed to be going to her very core. With wild abandon, she relaxed her throat, took him deeply. She felt him throb and shudder, releasing his seed in a warm stream even as she began to ride a crest of unbelievable thrills from what his mouth, his hands were doing to her.

  What kind of wild, abandoned behavior was this? And then she didn’t think, didn’t care as she was swept away in the throes of passion.

  Gradually, she became aware of things around her. Where was she? Why was she naked? Then as she looked up into his face, it all came back to her with a rush and he leaned over, kissed each side of her mouth. “Little wild violet,” he said. “You really can be wild, can’t you?”

  Was he scolding her? Chiding her for her behavior? She felt her face flame, and turned away. But his hand reached to cup her chin, turn her to look up at him. “Don’t be ashamed, Aimée. I love you. We’ll be married.”

  She sat up, reached for her clothes. The last few minutes came back to her with a rush of stunned reality. Had she really cavorted naked on the grass? Had she and this powerful, nude cowboy really ridden up and down the pasture on a horse? Santa María! What if someone had seen them? Hurriedly, she began to dress.

  “What’s the matter?”

  She couldn’t hold back the tears. “I—I don’t know. I’ve behaved like a regular tart, I guess. You must think me terrible!”

  “I think you’re wonderful.” He took her in his arms, cradled her, half-naked, against his wide chest, kissed her tears away. “Once we’re married, we can do this all the time.”

  Married. Half of her thrilled at the idea of waking up in Bandit’s arms every morning for the rest of her life. Then she shook her head.

  “What’s the matter?”

  This can never work, she thought sadly as she dressed. Something will go wrong; somehow the secret will get out. Someone else must know. “Texas, how did you know about the missing heir?”

  He shrugged as he dressed. “It’s common knowledge, isn’t it? I—I just heard about it somewhere.”

  He was lying. She knew it by his studied carelessness as he avoided her gaze, pulled on his boots. Someone else besides the two of them knew the secret, she thought with a chill, someone who could blackmail him or reveal it. It would be like living under a dangling sword, waiting for the information to leak out. And, in the meantime, suppose the real Tony Falcon showed up alive someday? What then?

  Of course, Amethyst knew who the person who knew his secret was. “Texas, you never did tell me how you knew Monique.”

  “Uh, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He reached into his pocket with studied carelessness, got a cigarillo, struck a match on the sole of his boot.

  She wanted to attack him with her fists again at remembering the soft sounds of passion coming from the French girl’s bedroom in the darkness. Amethyst had built the fire in him at the dance last night, and then Monique had put that fire out. Maybe, Amethyst thought, she had only herself to blame. She combed her hair the best she could with her fingers while Bandit saddled the stallion. There was no use asking; he was only going to lie to her.

  “Here, sweet, let me help you up.” He stuck the cigarillo in his mouth, held out his clasped hands, boosted her into the saddle, and swung up behind her.

  Amethyst glanced at the sun, realized it had been several hours. “What on earth will we tell everyone?” she wondered aloud.

  He laughed gently and slipped his arms around her, nudged the horse forward as he smoked. “We’ll tell ’em the mare stumbled in a prairie-dog hole, that’s why you look like you’ve been drug through a brush heap backwards. I came along and found you.”

  “You think they’ll believe that?”

  “Who cares? After all, we are betrothed. Our marrying will save your reputation.”

  He held her tightly against him and she relaxed, leaned back against his wide chest. Whatever was between him and Monique, she didn’t want to think about it. “Suppose that girl tells about you?” she whispered, almost to herself, as they rode slowly back to the ranch.

  “Oh, I don’t think Mona would . . .” His voice trailed off abruptly as if he realized she’d been fishing for information.

  So he called her Mona. Amethyst suddenly felt betrayed and jealous. She envisioned Bandit in the throes of passion in the other woman’s arms. Without thinking, she stiffened.

  He kissed the back of her neck. “Stop frettin’, Aimée. No one’s going to tell. We’re just gonna get married and be one big happy family.”

  And then it came to her. He intended to have his cake and eat it, too. He’d have Amethyst and the Durango ranch, along with Falcon’s Lair. And if Mona or Monique or whatever her name was, married Amethyst’s foolish father, she would be available for Bandit, also. Maybe the virile Texan planned to keep a harem.

  Like hell he would! She didn’t say anything on the rest of the ride back. He was so confident, so smug. He knew she didn’t dare break the engagement and, of course, he wouldn’t break it either. The only thing that could be done was to have the two fathers decide to call the wedding off. Maybe they could be made to see that even if he was the lost heir, things had changed too much for this arrangement to work out.

  Everyone seemed to be off taking a siesta when they rode up. Heartaches grazed around on the far side of the barn, her reins dragging.

  “See?” Bandit said triumphantly, “they haven’t even noticed your horse has come back without you.”

  He dismounted, caught her horse. As they stood there, Manuel came from the house. “Ah, señorita, you have returned from your ride?”

  She brushed her hair back, trying to look very bored and casual. “Si, Manuel. I got thrown and señor Falcon assisted me. You can take the horses.”

  Bandit handed the child the reins, and followed her as she walked hurriedly into the house.

  Once inside, she turned on him. “You don’t have to come in,” she snapped. “You can go back to the Falcons.”

  “Why don’t you clean up and join me in the library for a drink?” He winked.

  “No, go home!” she said in exasperation. “I’m going to take a bath and enjoy a siesta for the rest of the afternoon.”

  He winked, took the cigarillo from his mouth. “I’ll help you with your bath.”

  “I’ll just bet you would! Fix yourself a drink and then go home.” She whirled and started up the stairs.

  When almost at the top, she heard a noise in the hall below. Turning, she saw Monique come down the hall, pause before the open library door. Curious, Amethyst sneaked halfway down the stairs to watch. The redhead loo
ked into the library.

  “Why, Bandit, honey,” Monique said, “I didn’t know you were here!”

  Amethyst took a deep, shuddering breath. Because she didn’t want to face the truth, she’d almost convinced herself her suspicions were mistaken. From where she hid on the stairs, she could just barely see Bandit as he came to the library door, put his finger to his lips in a gesture of silence. Then he jerked Monique into the library, and closed the door.

  Stunning realization swept over Amethyst, and she collapsed in a heap on the stairway. Of course he’d lied to her. He and that red-haired woman were in this together! What was she going to do?

  She would tell Papa and Señor Falcon about the plot. She thought about that a minute, shook her head, still staring at the closed library door. Even if she could get the two men to believe that an impostor had gone to all this trouble, it would hurt them both. What she needed to do was convince them that the sixteen years she and Tony had been apart had made it impossible for the marriage to work. Then she could quietly break the engagement without being sent back to the convent school.

  Now just how was she going to do it? Her mind worked furiously while she watched that closed door. She needed a way to show everyone how terribly unsuited the Texan was for upper-class Mexican life. That done, maybe Señor Falcon would send him away somewhere.

  How could she demonstrate how unsuitable he was? She tried to think of a plan, but all she could think about was what might be going on behind that closed door. Was he kissing the redhead? Making passionate love to her on the sofa less than an hour after he’d made love to Amethyst and declared her the only girl for him?

  She had to grip the banister to keep herself from running down the stairs, flinging open the library door.

  She imagined the scene, then frowned. Somehow, it seemed familiar. Oh, sí. She’d played it in her head last night.

  Amethyst decided she was going to have to be more clever than the pair in the library. She told herself that what she was feeling was righteous indignation, certainly not jealously. Just let them paw and pant all over each other in there while she planned her revenge. A brilliant idea had just come to her.

  She gathered up her skirts, went up to her room. The Texan was proud, very proud. He wasn’t afraid of anything in this world as far as she could see . . . except maybe humiliation. If she could put him in a very embarrassing position, shame him in front of a crowd, he’d tuck his tail between his legs like a whipped hound and run back to Texas.

  What Amethyst had in mind was a very special dinner party. When she got through with those two, both of them would light out for Texas and never be seen in these parts again. With a smile, she sat down at her rosewood desk, reached for pen and paper. This was going to be a dinner party everyone involved would never forget!

  Chapter Thirteen

  Mona smiled at Bandit as he closed the library door. “Well, Handsome, we didn’t get much of a chance to talk last night. I’ve missed you, mon chéri. I’ve missed you so much.” She went to him, put her arms around his neck.

  “Now, Mona.” He laughed, shrugged her arms off, backed away. “Suppose Aimée or her papa should walk in and catch you doin’ that?”

  She felt a catch in her throat. Aimée. Beloved. Mona had taught him that word and now he used it to refer to another woman. She shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “So what are we gonna do about this mess, Handsome?”

  He reached for a slender cigarillo, struck a match on the sole of his boot as he lounged against a bookcase. “I’ll admit this complicates things some, Mona. Sure didn’t expect to run into you below the border.”

  “I’m doin’ the same thing you are, Bandit,” she said, moving to the sideboard. “I’m tired of the sporting life and I’m running out of time. In another five years, no man would look at me twice.”

  “Aw, Mona, that’s not true. You’re as beautiful as when you were the toast of Gun Powder.”

  She watched him smoke, thinking maturity had improved him. He was even more virile now than when she had known him. “You were really the only man I ever cared for, Handsome, you know that.”

  His rugged features softened. “We go back a long way, Mona. But it’s finished. Make old Durango a good wife. I sure as hell won’t tell him about you.”

  Mona poured herself a drink from the crystal decanter on the sideboard, gulped it, made a face. “What eyewash! Sherry.”

  Bandit smiled, and the corner of his mouth turned up in that devilish grin. “Don’t forget, ladies aren’t supposed to drink anything stronger than sherry.”

  “Who the hell ever said I was a lady?” she scoffed.

  “I’ll whip any man who says otherwise,” he promised softly, blowing smoke rings.

  Tears came to her eyes and she blinked them away. “You was always square with me, Bandit, a real gent.”

  He shrugged. “You looked after my mother.”

  Mona cringed. “You know, I never told you this, but it’s been eatin’ at me. It was my fault Lidah ended up in a parlor house.”

  “You?”

  She didn’t like the hard look on his face. “Your mother was just a scared kid who’d been thrown out by her folks. The first time I saw her, she was scrubbing floors on her hands and knees in a saloon.”

  “Better she should have scrubbed floors.” His voice betrayed bitterness, anger. “You know what it’s like to be a little kid whose mother works in a parlor house in a town like Gun Powder? The other kids used to gang up on me, chase me home if I went uptown.”

  She twisted her hands together. “You say that now, but she was almost starving, Bandit, trying to support you by scrubbing floors.”

  His eyebrows went up in surprise. “You mean, she already had me when she went to work at the Ace High?”

  Now it was her turn to be surprised. “You didn’t know that?”

  He shook his head, blew smoke. “No, I—I figured I was fathered by one of her customers. I never asked, and she never talked about it. I was afraid she didn’t even know which one.”

  “You poor devil.” She went over, put a comforting hand on his arm. “Lidah never talked about your father. I think she was pretty bitter that he’d gotten her pregnant, then deserted her.”

  He gave her a wry smile. “When will women ever learn that a man will say anything, promise anything, to get between a woman’s legs?”

  She turned away. “We always hope things will be different, I suppose; that the next guy will really care.”

  Bandit laughed. “When a man cares, he makes some kind of commitment. If a woman’s smart, she’ll wait ’til the guy’s got a gold ring in one hand and a preacher by the elbow in the other.”

  “Somehow, just from the little Lidah said about him, I think she really thought the man cared about her. I figured she would have at least told you about him.”

  “In case you’ve forgotten, my mother spent most of her spare time at the bottom of a gin bottle when she wasn’t entertaining customers.” His voice was bitter.

  Mona remembered the pretty half-breed girl with the pale blue eyes. “She was ashamed, Bandit, ashamed of what she was doin’.”

  “Then why the hell didn’t she stop!” he exclaimed, turning to throw his cigar in the empty fireplace. “You never knew about the kids taunting me with dirty words about my mother. I was the only kid in town living in a bordello.”

  “I suppose I should have realized what it must have been like for you, but you were always such a cheerful, cocky little scamp, nobody realized you were hurtin’ inside.” She bit her lip, suddenly faced with the reality of the past.

  He didn’t answer for a long moment, and Mona saw that same, deep sadness in his eyes she had often seen in his mother’s. “I had to pretend I didn’t give a damn, that nothing mattered because it all mattered so much. If I was cocky, arrogant, no one knew how much it hurt.”

  “She hurt, too, Handsome. I guess that’s why she beat up on you. She told me one time that every time she looked into your
face, she saw his. But you two had to eat, and she wasn’t strong enough to scrub floors forever.”

  “God damn it! Don’t try to make me feel her whoring was my fault!” Bandit almost shouted, and the anger in his face made her shy away. Then she felt foolish. This gallant cowboy would never use his virile strength against a woman.

  “She loved you, Bandit, more than anything.”

  “Did she?” There were tears in his eyes. “She never told me.”

  Mona’s heart twisted in pain for the pair. “Sometimes we neglect to tell those we care for most how much we love them. Or maybe we take it for granted they know.” She thought about it a moment, looking at him; loving him. “Or maybe we’re afraid they would laugh if we said it.”

  “Mona”—he ran his hands through his blond hair in obvious agitation—“did she ever give you any clue about my father? Anything at all?”

  She shook her head. “Very little. I think he was her one and only true love. She wasn’t wanted at home anyway, a half-breed kid in a family of blonds; the product of a rape. Then she came up pregnant and unmarried, and I suppose that was just the excuse her stepfather needed to kick her out. She was just a kid, Bandit, and so she scrubbed floors until I found her.”

  “I would rather have starved.”

  “You were too young to make that decision.”

  Bandit paced up and down before the fireplace. “I’ve spent my whole life wonderin’ whose blood flows in my veins. Everyone wonders about things like that.”

  Mona sighed. “All I know is her name was Lidah. She said it was Czech for ‘Loved by all.’”

  He stopped pacing and looked at her. “Very appropriate for a whore, don’t you think?”

  She slapped him then, slapped him hard. “You do her wrong, Bandit. She was desperate, don’t you see? All I know is she met your father sometime in forty-six, and saw him through the summer of forty-seven. Then he stopped coming. I think he was just a kid himself, maybe from some fancy, snobbish family that didn’t want a half-breed girl in it.”