“Don’t bother. The whiskey is enough.”
She came toward him slowly, masking her fear of being too close, of touching him again because of the feelings he stirred to life. Thrusting the bottle at him, Domini looked at his face.
“I’ll use the knife to cut away the shirt. If you can’t trust me, say so. You can do it yourself.”
Before she realized his intent, he had his right hand on her hip, pulling her into the V of his thighs. He lifted the bottle, tore the cork out with his teeth, and spat it aside.
“First one’s for me. You can use the rest of it.”
Domini set to work quickly. She cut away the ripped sleeve, feeling the buttery soft linen weave. The hand-stitched seams showed exquisite work, expensive work, and she wondered again who he was. She removed the material as gently as she could, trying not to think about the heat of his body that surrounded her. Her gaze remained on his arm, but she felt him watching her face.
He lifted the bottle for another drink just as she stepped away. His fingers tightened for a moment, then slid down the flare of her hip and over her thigh.
“I’ll get something clean from my bag to wash it with.”
“Bet it’s something soft, virginal, and white.”
“How did—” She stopped herself the moment she saw the knowing look in his eyes and the cocky grin on his lips. He had tricked her into the admission, and there was no point in trying to deny it now. Her carpet bag held a choice of two sets of drawers and chemises. Both had been worn during her journey. There was the new nightgown that the nuns at the mission had made as a parting gift for her.
Domini had no choice. Working with Sister Benedict among the poor of the village had shown her how important cleanliness was for proper healing of all wounds.
Luke figured there wasn’t much in her bag. There’d been no heavy weight, and the way she opened it and rose moments later with something white in her hand told him he was right. Soft and virginal. He took another sip of the whiskey as she laid the nightgown on the bed beside him.
Without a word Domini opened the seam on one side with the knife, and set about cutting a good portion of the hem off all the way around. Once she had two pieces, she took the bottle and soaked one cloth, standing outside the spread of his legs.
“Don’t you trust me?”
“I’m still here. Now, hold still. You know this will sting.”
She bit her lower lip, begging for forgiveness from the Lord for having caused the wound she quickly cleaned. She was uneasy with the truth of his observation about her, uneasy with the way he watched her, uneasy with touching the warmth of his flesh. His skin was dusky, nearly as golden as her own.
The cut ran from behind his smooth, muscled shoulder to nearly his elbow. She hadn’t realized that she had stroked him with a trembling hand until he spoke.
“Curious, are you?”
Domini snatched her hand away. She cut the remaining piece of cloth into strips, hesitating a few seconds before she made herself start to wrap his arm.
Bending over to catch the cloth end behind his arm, she felt the weight of her hair slip free. She closed her eyes briefly.
“Why?”
“I wanted to see it down.” Luke tucked the empty bottle between his legs and gathered up a handful of her hair. It was heavy as satin, black as night, and smooth as silk. “Take down the rest of it.”
“No.” She whirled away, one hand reaching out to tug her hair free. “I’ll finish the bandage, but you must promise not to touch me again.”
Both their glances went to the knife lying on the bed.
Luke looked up first. “Or?”
His expression was tense, waiting, and when she didn’t immediately answer him, it changed, communicating a desire so intense she caught her breath.
“Would it give you pleasure to take from me?”
“I’m not Toma Colfax. I don’t take unwilling women. Finish my arm.”
She knew the danger had passed. Still, she hesitated.
“I don’t bite.”
Her gaze went to his mouth, to the white teeth that flashed in a grin.
“All right.”
Luke waited until she was beside him. He dug the fingers of his right hand into the mattress’s edge. “That is, I don’t bite unless you do first.”
Her fingers were clumsy tying off the bandage. She repeated his words to herself, then wondered if they were true. Her loose hair fell like a curtain between them as she gathered up her nightgown and fled to replace it in the carpet bag.
When she rose and glanced at him, he had stretched out on the bed. One hand rested beneath his head. “It will be best if I sleep here, on the floor.”
“Suit yourself. There’s plenty of room here.”
Eyeing the space between his body and the wall, Domini shook her head. “There’s room, but not safety.”
“If safety’s what you’re after,” he noted softly, “you’ve come to the wrong place for it.”
“I’d like my hairpins and comb back.”
He ignored her outstretched hand. “Answer me.”
Her hand fell to her side and she shook the loose hair back. “Toma Colfax sent for me. He’s been kindness—”
“Kindness? Toma? The man wouldn’t know kindness if it sat up and bit his ass, honey. You can’t be talking about the Toma I know.”
“Because you see darkness in everyone, you expect others to do the same?”
“Because I know that bastard.” He began to realize he’d had it all wrong. It wasn’t Matt, but the old man who’d brought her here. Intended to take her onto Gold Bar C land. Into her house. His gaze was cutting. Jim Kirkland’s daughter? After all this time? It didn’t make sense. And Toma always had a purpose for everything he did.
But Luke understood that he had made a mistake with her. She wasn’t going to tell him more unless he changed his way of asking.
“If you’re gonna insist on sleeping on the floor, take the blanket from the bed. I never use one.”
“I’ve done without before.”
“From all you’ve said, I gather you haven’t had an easy time of it.”
Domini nodded, then walked to pick up her shawl. She wrapped it around her shoulders and returned to her place near the door. Knowing that he was watching her made her awkward as she sat with her back against the door.
“Will you tell me where you met Toma?”
“I’ve never met the man. Over the past ten years he’s paid for my keep at the mission of San Gabriel.”
“Paid for your keep?” He’d have sworn that she was lying, but her gaze met his, as level and direct as any man’s. Yet the doubt was hard to bury.
“It was only a few weeks ago that I found out about him. Sister Benedict showed me his letter demanding that I come here before taking the vows of a novice.”
He didn’t make the mistake of telling her it would be a waste to see her locked in a convent. He remained very still, waiting as she was waiting. He’d made the right choice, for she continued.
“At first I didn’t want to come, but Sister reminded me that I owed him so much that to refuse was wrong. And he was my father’s friend.”
“Toma doesn’t have friends. The man counts his enemies and owns everyone else.”
“If you bear such dislike for him, why do you work for him?”
“That’s likely Harold with the hot water I ordered.”
Domini threw him a startled glance. Then she also heard the footsteps coming down the hall. She rose quickly, stepping back and away from the door.
“He’ll think—”
“He doesn’t get paid to think. Just open the door.”
Domini did as he ordered. Harold stood holding a bucket of steaming water in one hand, soap in the other, with washcloths and towels folded over his arm. She set the bucket inside the door, took the other things from him, whispered her thanks, and closed the door.
The
cool air from the hall had chilled the room. She once again listened to the sound of the rain. It was softer now, but her gaze locked on the steaming water.
“Go ahead. Use it.”
She looked at the washbowl and pitcher on the chest. Tempted, Domini slowly shook her head. “If you’d like to wash, I’ll pour the water into the bowl for you.”
He lifted his wounded arm. “Ain’t much chance I’d manage. Now, if you were to do the honors, I’d consider it.”
Bending over, she dipped her fingers into the water. “It’s hot.”
“So am I.”
“Hot enough to scald a man if it were flung at him.”
“You or the water, honey?”
“I thought you wouldn’t bite unless I bit first?” But the words were no sooner spoken than another, deep shiver of sensual awareness flooded her.
His gaze swept her from toe to head. Her cheeks hinted of color beneath the golden skin. “You don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?”
Luke felt gut-punched. She watched him with a combination of innocence and curiosity. She had the kind of willowy, long-legged body that made his blood run hot and thick. Solemn eyes met his returning gaze. And in them he saw confusion. He wanted to unpin the other coil of her hair, then wrap the wealth of black silk over his body.
He remembered watching her enjoy the coming storm and felt the fierce hunger that had swept his body. He ran the tip of his tongue over his lip, tasting the soft, explosive heat of her mouth again. His fingers tightened over the mussed sheets beneath him. He felt himself harden as he had in the seconds she had been pliant against him, rocking her hips against his, the seconds before she pulled his knife on him.
His head burrowed deeper against the pillow. “Christ!” he muttered. “You don’t know. But I do.”
When she realized he wasn’t going to continue, she came nearer the bed. “If you know, then tell me what it is so I won’t do—”
“Honey,” he stated coldly, harshly, lifting himself up on one elbow and wincing from the pain. “I’m not gonna tell you anything. But I’ll show you right quick if you don’t stay the hell away from me.”
She spun around, ready to run, then heard him groan. A glance over her shoulder revealed him lying on the bed, his eyes closed. She felt the tension seep out of her. She had to trust her own instincts to be right. Whatever it was had passed. He would leave her be now.
Only the thought of being in a strange place without any money and a chilling rain falling kept her there.
She watched the rise and fall of his chest, fascinated by the sense of power that came from him even at rest. There was a masculine grace to his big body. She stared at his scuffed boots, the frayed edges of his pants, the muscular legs, narrow waist and shoulders broad enough to carry whatever burdens the Lord sent his way.
Her gaze returned to his narrow hips and the gun belt he still wore. She had a feeling it was never far from his hand. Seeing the stark bandage on his arm brought the appalling realization that she had cut him.
Rubbing her arms, Domini turned away and was again tempted by the curls of steam that rose from the bucket of water.
She sniffed the soap, surprised to find it faintly scented with pine. Turning the bar over in her hands, she knew this wasn’t the coarse milled soap that the nuns at the mission favored.
Darting a glance at the bed, and the man in it, she knelt on the floor and opened the top few buttons of her gown. Wetting, then soaping the cloth, she sighed at the first touch of heat to her skin. With one hand she held her loose hair to the side, slipping the wet cloth inside the gown.
It wasn’t enough. She could smell her own musky odor. Tomorrow would see her arrival at the end of her journey. It was bad enough that she couldn’t clean her clothes before she met her benefactor for the first time. But she didn’t need to meet him smelling like a hundred-mile journey either.
Luke hadn’t moved. There was only the even sound of his breathing. From the spot where she knelt, she could see the lower portion of his body. She set the washcloth on the rim of the bucket and slid the comb and pins from her hair. Shaking it free down her back, she used its thick, concealing curtain to open her gown to her waist, then slid the long sleeves off.
It wasn’t the bath she longed for, but it would have to do. Listen to yourself, going on about a bath when there were weeks that water didn’t touch your skin. When you had no clean clothes to wear. When hunger cramped your belly and you couldn’t close your eyes for fear of having the rats bite you. And if the threat of rats wasn’t enough, there were worse animals to keep you sleepless.
A cold trembling overcame her. She knew it was her exhaustion that allowed those fears of long ago to surface.
Hurrying now to finish, she nevertheless took the time to fix her bodice before lifting her skirt. It was awkward at best, trying to wash and remain decently covered at the same time, but Domini managed to her satisfaction.
When she was done, she rose and carried the bucket to the corner close to the chest. She reached up to lower the wick until the light went out.
Settled near the door, wrapped in her shawl and using her carpet bag for a pillow, she closed her eyes.
And from the darkness came Luke’s sensual, husky whisper:
“You were right. Hot enough to scald a man.”
Domini didn’t answer him. But she was shocked by the soft, deep explosion that rocked through her.
“Don’t lose any sleep over it, honey. We’ll leave at first light. I can’t wait to see what other surprises you have in store for me.”
It was both a challenge and a threat whispered in a room alive with a dark, dangerous, shimmering excitement.
Chapter 3
“I can’t ride a horse.”
“You what!”
Shivering in the pre-dawn chill, Domini repeated it. With sunrise still a good hour away, she couldn’t make out Luke’s features as they stood in the yard in front of the livery. She glanced at the lantern lit and hanging near the stable doors, but its light didn’t reach them.
Her eyes had the gritty feel of having had sand rubbed in them. She hadn’t slept well. Luke’s last words to her had preyed on her mind. Well, he shouldn’t be complaining then, for here was another of her surprises for him.
“Well, ya want the mare or not, Luke?”
Luke shot a murderous glare at Aloysius Fraser. The man was obvious in his enjoyment. He stood scratching his belly through the gaping hole of his union suit. Snapping his suspenders, Aloysius began whistling. While it annoyed Luke that he was enjoying this, at least it was a change from the man’s grumbling for the past two hours since Luke had woken him.
Restlessness and a throbbing in his arm had sent Luke out of the room so early. He had intended to surprise her with his choice of a young, spirited sorrel with a gentle mouth and the intelligence not to shy from his grulla. Devil stood nearly seventeen hands of raw, muscled power, tame enough when led by a halter, but let anyone but Luke get on his back and the horse was dynamite and fury.
A real surprise package, as more than a few men had found out. But Luke was being given a surprise of his own as Domini sighed and repeated again that she couldn’t ride a horse.
His own words came back to haunt him. He couldn’t wait to see what other surprises she had in store for him.
“Luke? Couldn’t we rent a buckboard? I’m sure that Mr. Colfax would reimburse you.”
“Mr. Colfax? Pay you?” Aloysius’s laughter turned to a fit of coughing, and Luke slapped his back so hard that the man stumbled.
“Luke? Did I say something wrong?”
“No.” The word was curt, sharply bitten off. Luke felt that soft voice of hers, husky with sleep, liquid with warmth, sizzle through him like lightning.
“Everything has to be packed in by mules to reach the Gold Bar C. There’s no way to use a wagon. You want to get there, you ride. Now, you’ve got the choice of gettin’
on that horse an’ coming with me, or stayin’.” He slapped the rein ends into her hands.
“We had mules at the mission,” she said with an eager note that more than hinted she would prefer one.
“Ain’t one to be had. An’ that’s a fact,” Aloysius answered. “Mule’s worth his weight in gold. On account of the miner’s needing ’em.”
“Oh.” Domini tried to tell herself that her fear was foolish, but fear, she had learned, could not be easily explained away at times. Unfortunately, this was one of those times.
Luke’s growing impatience reached out to her as she struggled to find another solution. Looking from Luke to his horse’s powerful built, she voiced her thought.
“Couldn’t we ride together on yours?”
If he had suddenly turned to stone, Luke couldn’t have been more still. Put her up on Devil? Torture himself? In his mood, he’d likely set her up in that saddle facing him and slide his aching flesh into that sweet body that didn’t know when to quit teasing a man. But she doesn’t know what she does to you.
“Luke?”
“No.”
His curt refusal left her no choice. Domini glanced at the leather she held, then at the mare who had craned her head to lip her shawl-clad arm. Stroking the white blaze on the horse’s face, she nodded acceptance of his terms, then realized that he wasn’t looking at her.
“All right. I’ll try. I only ask that you be patient with me.”
“Sure.”
“And since I can’t ride, you’ll have to help me, Luke.”
Help her? He was the one who needed help.
“Luke, you’ll need to teach me what to do.”
He was still imagining the smooth, gliding ride Devil would give them. He’d like to teach her how to ride. Him, or the damn horse.
“If you were so set on leaving a few minutes ago, why won’t you help me up now?”
“I will.” But he took his time sliding on his leather gloves before he turned to face her. “Lift your arms and put your hands on my shoulders,” he ordered, setting his hands on her waist beneath the shawl. Even through the leather he could feel how little cloth separated him from warm skin.
Whisper My Name Page 3
