by Thea Devine
He moved closer to her. "Come, Kalida; kiss me. I need the taste of you to get me through this night."
Her cobalt eyes glittered; he could just barely see them in the murkiness. He knew she would never acquiesce peacefully, and he was prepared for her resistance. He caught her in his arms and pulled her close to him. "Kiss me, Kalida." He bent his head to hers, and her lips parted and her body shuddered in anticipation.
He felt so hard to her questing hands. His body was rock tough, steamy with his sweat and his seductive male scent. His mouth came down firmly on hers for the briefest pressure of a kiss. "Open your mouth to me, Kalida," he murmured, nipping at her recalcitrant lower lip.
His voice was so alluring. His lips pressed hers gently over and over, without the heaving demand that he felt to just plunge his tongue into the hot recesses of her mouth. He coaxed her with his tempting lips and his provocative words, and his sinewy arms held her powerfully tight. She could not get away, but she could submit. Oh, but this was not submission, she thought, as his mouth dominated hers once again. She might feign unwillingness because it was her nature not to yield easily, but she knew she wanted his lush kisses if she could have nothing else of him tonight. And she knew how unbearably his kiss would arouse her, and she did not know how she would
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be able to stand it.
Nonetheless, she wanted it, and she was aware that her resistance was exciting him unendurably, that his heated kisses were becoming more and more demanding. That her willing lips were starting to respond to the thrust and probe of his firm tongue. That his voluptuous sucking of her lips was driving her to the edge of her limits, and that where he was concerned she was beginning to have no limits.
"Ahhh, Kalida," he whispered roughly, "I need to taste you. Open your mouth to me. . . ."
His words thrilled her. "Take me," she breathed, and opened her mouth to his, almost fainting with pleasure as he filled her tender recesses with the full force of his hunger.
She pulled away from him for just an instant to whisper, "Don't go." It was all he would let her say before he claimed her pliant lips once again, taking them between his teeth, nipping and sucking them provocatively for even suggesting such a thing.
She loved the little punishment so much she brazenly tried to tempt him again. "Stay with me," she begged breathily, beguiling him by sliding her bold, brazen tongue all over his insatiable lips. She felt a purely female thrill of triumph when he groaned fiercely, "I can't," and she could feel his whole body yearning for him to say that he would. His massive manhood pulsated like an iron bar against her body as he held her. His arms tightened and tightened with each tempestuous caress of his hot tongue as if he would never let her go. And she felt as though she could never push herself tightly enough against him. That the only thing that would sate her craving for him was to take him inside her eager warmth. She had only to tell him to lift her skirt and she was ready for him.
His sultry mouth captured hers again fiercely. This time, he had no time to listen to her smouldering words.
This time, his intimate caresses told her that it was almost time for him to leave her.
She couldn't bear for him to leave her with just his luscious taste tonight. Her body writhed against him wantonly, seeking to tempt him; her lush tongue enthralled him with voluptuous promises.
He knew what she was doing. "Temptress," he growled against the silken glide of her tongue against his. "Vixen. The answer is no." He covered her mouth again with his pronouncement, giving her no time to try her provocative blandishments. He plunged into her tantalizing mouth again and again, unable to pull away, unable to walk away from her luscious provocation.
And then he wrenched away at the sound of someone calling his name.
Jake!
"Almost ready to move out," Jake said, walking firmly into the shadow of the stall where Kalida stood still in the circle of Deuce's arms.
"Really now?" Deuce said calmly.
"Bruno's got the chuck, and Barney's driving the bed wagon, and the wrangler's all set with the horses. It's just you and me and we can head out."
"All right, Jake." Deuce turned to Kalida. "Your enticements almost worked, Kalida-cat. I'll see you tomorrow."
He let go of her and strode away, leaving her and Jake looking after him.
"You okay?" Jake asked her.
Kalida looked at him, puzzled. "What do you mean?" Her full attention was on Deuce and the moving out of the roundup crew. How could she insinuate herself with them?
"You were mighty cosy there with Deuce just now," Jake said suggestively, his eyes resting on the hard peaks
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of her nipples against the thin shirt. Yes, he was right; she was naked under the shirt. And she had been kissing Deuce ferociously, letting him . . .
"Was I?" she asked thoughtfully.
"Kalida . . . Miss Kalida, there's no call for him to treat you like that if you're a guest in his house. Even under the conditions he agreed with your daddy," Jake said.
Kalida now swung her gaze to Jake. "That may be, Jake, but it's none of your business."
"Your daddy didn't give him permission to kiss you like that, Miss Kalida," Jake said chidingly, with half-serious indignation that he thought disguised very well how much he wanted to do exactly that.
"Supposing / wanted him to," she shot back before she thought about the implication of her words.
"Did you now, Miss Kalida?" Jake murmured suggestively, moving a step closer. And wasn't it just as he had thought? She was as willing as he had ever dreamed. "I'm glad to hear that," he added. Glad to hear, he added mentally, of anything she wanted so that he would know, when his turn came, what she wanted him to do.
He toyed with the thought of commanding her to take off her clothes. She had a glazed look in her eyes, and her mouth was ripe from Deuce's thrusting kisses. Her passionate juices had probably aroused her to the point where she was desperate to have someone take control of her. Otherwise, he thought, she might turn her voracious appetite to just anyone. How long did she expect him to wait? "Did you say Bruno was tending the chuck?" Kalida said suddenly, as it occurred to her that if she were to thank him for his encouragement this afternoon, she would have a reason for hanging around the outgoing drovers.
It took a full minute for his mind to snap back to the moment so he could fully comprehend her question. And
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anyway, what did she want with Old Bruno when he was here? "Yes," he snapped abruptly, almost pettishly.
"You'll have to excuse me, Jake. I must get back to the
house." &
"What for?" Jake growled, grabbing for her arm as she turned away. His hand grazed the tight nub of her nipple as she slipped out of his grasp and he felt its hot hard sensuality clear down to his loins. She had done that deliberately, he swore. She was a tease, damn it, an out-and-out wanton tease. She gave him a taste here and a feel there, and all the while she willingly gave everything to Deuce Cavender.
She smiled at him in that pouty kind of way that told him she knew exactly what she did to him. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said in her most beguiling, he thought, tone of voice, the one that promised a thousand delights and would probably yield none.
"You will," he agreed roughly. The only thing holding him back from grabbing her was his determination not to force her. He would not compel her at all, even if the waiting were an agony. It was all part of the game he knew provoking teases like Kalida played. It just made her final capitulation that much more explosively sweeter.
And it would come soon, he thought, because he would make it come soon.
Jake was out of her mind before she even left the stable. He was acting strangely. And she wished he hadn't grabbed for her like that. She was sure it had been accidental but she didn't like the feeling of anyone touching her but Deuce.
She had no firm clear idea of what she was going to do. She only knew she wan
ted to go, and Deuce's reluctance to leave her merely fueled that desire. The fact Ardelle wouldn't like it any too well was no detriment
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either. Nor was the thought of not enduring Ellie's company for one minute longer than she had to.
The reasons for her to find a way to accompany the crew were mounting up, much to her satisfaction. As she approached the house, she could see the chuck wagon drawing around the corner of the house to the kitchen and storerooms. She followed it slowly. She could hardly pretend to be a sack of flour and hide away in the food >ox. But the thought was tempting. She wondered if there were anywhere she could stow away.
She waved to Bruno as she rounded the corner of the house. Prestina and Ardelle were already lining up kegs and boxes on the back porch. | "Good you are here," Ardelle called to her. "You can help."
Kalida's cobalt eyes flashed. Was it possible Ardelle actually approved of something for her to do? She picked up a bag of coffee beans and a package of dried fruit and lugged them over to Bruno, who was fitting each item lovingly into the wagon with the intensity of a man outfitting the woman he loves. Kalida was always surprised at the amount of gear and food that could be packed into the chuck, everything from bedrolls to tool boxes to a barrel full of water enough to last several days. And in its honeycomb of cabinets that were built into the opposite end from the driver's seat, a cook could store everything from flour to coffee to sickroom necessities, his pots and pans, plates and silverware, rope and ammunition, and a crock of starter for bread and biscuits.
Bruno took the coffee and fruit from Kalida and found a cranny to house both bags. "Glad you came along this morning," he said gruffly.
"Wish I could come along this afternoon," Kalida said lightly.
Bruno shook his head. "It won't take no time to get them cattle down to Morgan field. Then you come watch
the cutting and branding, Miss Kalida; that'd be fine."
Kalida wrinkled her nose and hoisted a sack of sugar onto her shoulder. That wouldn't be fine at all. Not at all. It wouldn't be like being there. The tin box of matches next, and then a hefty container of molasses went into the chuck box.
Kalida gazed longingly at the wagon bed. Wouldn't it be easy and perfect if she could just hop up there and hide under a bedroll?
Prestina handed her various cooking utensils, which she passed to Bruno, who stored them on shelves underneath the chuck box. Wouldn't it be wonderful, she mused, if she could slide in there with tool box and the flour sack? And —an idea lit up in her mind —didn't Jake say something about the bed wagon travelling out too? What if. . .
No. Yes. She eyed Bruno, who was shifting boxes and implements, then picked up a package of salt and brought it to him.
"Oh, I got that already, Miss Kalida, and thank you," he said, his hands busy and his eyes referring to a list on a small crumpled piece of paper.
"Sorry," Kalida said, but she was not at all contrite. Her sparkling blue gaze lit on the piece of paper. "You have a check-off list?" she asked with a show of curiosity.
"Surely. I don't often get to go you know, but sometimes . . . Anyway, the trail drives vary, so we have a stock list of equipment and supplies for all kinds of lengths of trips. This here's for a short one. So's we don't waste food, you see."
"But a lot of men will be going," Kalida said audaciously, hating to use his kindly attention to her questions for her own means. But she didn't see any other way. She didn't. "Where is their gear?"
"Oh, there's another wagon coming up from the carriage barn. Barney's driving. I believe he's loading up now
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same as me. We'll shove off in about fifteen minutes.
Loading up. The words struck a chord in her. Besides Deuce and Jake, a half-dozen other men were going on this drive. Not to mention their gear. Six, maybe eight or more, bedrolls were being packed onto that small commodious wagon. Hiding places. And they were leaving in fifteen minutes.
Oh my God, Kalida thought in a frenzy; she couldn't have said when the actual plan of hiding aboard the wagon struck her in its entirety. She only remembered making the connection: gear—hiding place. She had to get to that barn before Barney drove out! She smiled at Bruno. "You'll be back tomorrow," she concluded conversationally, hoping that her frantic haste to get away now was not obvious to him.
"Barring unexpected trouble, yes." He poked around a moment more. "That's about it, Miss Kalida; whyn't you go tell Miss Ardelle and save Prestina the trouble of carting more supplies outside?"
Fifteen minutes. Kalida nodded and raced into the house to find Ardelle. She delivered Bruno's message tersely, along with a not very inventive excuse for herself so that she would not be looked for after the wagons had left.
Ardelle was busy with her own concerns and never questioned a word. Funny, Kalida thought, and dismissed it from her mind. The next trick was to manage to get herself down to the carriage barn without anyone seeing her.
She went back out the rear door. The wagon stood at the ready; Bruno was not there. Damn, what if he had gone to help Barney? . . .
Casually, she strolled in the direction of the barn, noting that everyone was busy and surely no one would come looking for her. She only hoped no one noticed the direction in which she was going. She wondered, just for
an instant, what Deuce was doing. And then she slipped behind the first of the outbuildings and flattened herself against its back wall.
All was quiet. /
She moved slowly, her heart pounding in a resonant drumming in her ears. The storehouse. The dairy house. Skirt the bunkhouse, where there was obviously the most activity. The barn. The carriage barn. The small rear door, which she opened stealthily. The sound of Barney's wizened voice echoing in the vast space.
The front doors were open, and she could see Barney and Bruno loading the rear of the wagon. She would have to wait. She slipped into the door, ducked onto her knees, and crawled as close as she could to the wagon.
Go back to your own duties, Bruno, she beseeched silently. It must be close to pulling-out time. How was she going to climb into that wagon with Bruno hanging all over it?
Suddenly the whole space was inundated with noise. "Time to move 'em out," an unfamiliar voice shouted, whooping its way down the dirt track.
Bruno brought the horses, which had been tethered right out front, and he and Barney hitched them to the wagon.
"Eh now, don't get lost," Bruno cautioned as he turned to leave. Barney cackled and tested the cinches.
Obviously a joke between them, Kalida thought, not amused herself. She inched forward until she was at the very edge of the wagon box. What if Barney came back to check the gate? Did she even know how to release the damned thing? She would have to climb over it and hope that her weight didn't sag down the rear axle. Was she crazy? She slithered up to the gate and reached up to grip the edge. And froze. Barney had turned and was looking in her direction.
A long moment passed, almost as if he were trying to
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determine if he had seen or heard something and what it could possibly be. He stood motionless beside the step leading up to his driver's perch. Kalida held her breath.
He finally decided it was nothing. Kalida watched him step onto the little support and knew this was the moment to hoist herself onto the wagon gate, so he wouldn't feel her weight sinking the back end.
One, two —and she lifted herself just as he pulled himself into the driver's seat, tumbling over onto the bedrolls and, oh God, extra saddles, she crammed her arm and hip against the rocklike protuberance of a pommel and cursed the moment she had thought of doing this.
But extra saddles!— Meant extra horses. Meant she would ride —if Deuce didn't send her right back. She burrowed under the bedrolls as the wagon jolted forward. Deuce wouldn't send her back. She could convince him of her usefulness.
She smiled to herself as the wagon hit daylight and convened with th
e crew. She would convince him. She had ways.
The trip was almost unbearable, hidden as she was in the saddle-worn bedrolls, with the heat of the waning sun beating down on them and no protection. And no water, because she hadn't thought to bring a canteen. Only the thought of the quickness of the trip saved her from expiring from the heat and her thirst. Her father had gone there and back, and the trip had taken two hours.
But that had been one man alone, not a train of cowhands with two wagons. Damn and blast. And she couldn't move. The wagon was now surrounded by several cowhands, almost like an escort. The damned wagon didn't travel any too fast either. They would make it, the desultory discussion around the wagon was, by nightfall,
a nice leisurely trip, and then fall into bed and out at first morning light.
The trip was interminable, the time passing with excru-tiating slowness. Kalida lay beneath the suffocating bedrolls and dared not move a finger. Her limbs were in agony, cramped beyond endurance. Her mouth was so dry she was sure one more breath would choke her. There was no air, no surcease from the endless jouncing over the rough track up to the ridge. She wished she had never thought of this idea. If she could have hopped out and walked back to Sweetland, she would have.
And if Deuce discovered her now, she was sure he would send her back. So she had no choice but to keep still and endure the agony. It could not be much longer.
And time passed. She stretched a tentative toe at one point. Her clothing was beginning to chafe her naked body, and there was no help for that. She sucked her finger to generate some moisture in her desert-dry mouth. It didn't work.
The rocking and jouncing of the wagon grew worse. It was ascending the trail; she could tell by the slant of her body and the slight shift in the wagon body.
