Wildstar

by Nicole Jordan

"We already figured as much."

  "But Purcell was behind the dynamite. He tried to mur­der us! He said it was his revenge for all the grief we caused him. And then he did this." She held up her wrists that were still bound. "Devlin, we have to stop him!"

  His hands automatically closed around hers as he stud­ied her flushed, beautiful face, with its wisps of tawny hair falling from their pins. Her expression was set and earnest—and altogether terrifying. Devlin knew that deter­mined look, and he didn't like it in the least. When Jessica got her mind set on something, no one could reason with her.

  "I have to stop him," he corrected. "You won't have anything to do with it."

  "I'm going after him—"

  "No, you are not, Jess."

  "Yes, I am! I'm the one he did this to! And I don't in­tend to let him get away with it."

  "He won't get away with it, I'll see to that. But you're going home."

  "I will not!"

  Devlin's jaw tightened. With pointed emphasis, he glanced down at her bonds. "I haven't untied you yet. And I won't unless I have your promise to let me handle Purcell alone."

  She stared at him incredulously.

  "I mean it, Jess. I'll leave you here where you can stay out of trouble."

  "You wouldn't!"

  No, he wouldn't. He couldn't leave her to the doubtful mercy of Madam Wong and her lusty customers. But he wasn't about to weaken his hand by admitting it. "You're not setting foot out of this room without giving me your word," Devlin said firmly.

  Her expression turned mutinous. "I'm not giving you anything."

  "Jessica, be reasonable. You can trust me to take care of Purcell."

  She stiffened at his mention of the word trust, suddenly remembering all the grievances she had against Devlin. "How dare you talk to me about trust after the way you lied to me and used me? I'd sooner trust a . . . a flea-manged polecat!"

  She had chosen the wrong response. All the savage an­ger that Devlin had harbored against her for the past two weeks, all the resentment and indignation and wounded pride, came flooding back in a solid rush. Without stop­ping to reconsider, he reached for the rope behind her, the one still attached to the upper post, and pressed Jessica back down on the pallet.

  She gasped as she realized his intent. "What are you doing!" She tried to sit up again, but Devlin had threaded the rope around her wrist bonds and was securing them tightly. He was actually tying her up! Jess jerked at the rope with impotent rage. "You can't do this to me, you . . . you devil!"

  "I'm doing it." His tone was grim. "If you want me to stop, you'll give me your word to stay out of this."

  Refusing to yield to his coercion, she tried a different tack. "Devlin, Purcell will get away if we don't go after him right now! He already has more than an hour's head start."

  "He won't get away. I know what he looks like now."

  "But you don't understand! He said Zeke McRoy was his partner. He said he had enough money stashed away in the mountains to last a lifetime. You told me once that Zeke took part in those train holdups. What if Purcell was working with him? What if that's how he got all that money, by robbing trains with Zeke's gang?"

  Her argument made Devlin pause. "It's possible they were working together."

  Seeing him frowning, Jess pressed her point. "I'm sure that's what happened. Purcell said that he'd hired Zeke, and I'll bet it was to do more than drive us off our claim. But if we don't follow him now, he's going to get clean away."

  Her logic seemed reasonable, except for the "we" part. Devlin shook his head. "You're not going, and that's fi­nal."

  "But you need me," Jess insisted. "What if Purcell has gone to meet up with his gang? He said he planned to leave the state, but first he had to visit some friends up north. What if they're outlaws? You can't face all of them alone."

  "I'll take the marshal with me."

  "That lily-livered chicken won't help you. I can—"

  "We've had this same conversation once before about Zeke McRoy, but this time I'm not budging, Jess. You aren't going."

  She set her jaw mulishly. "You can't stop me."

  Grinding his teeth in frustration. Devlin stared down at her. He needed to be riding after Purcell, but just now driving some sense into Jess was even more important to him. He wasn't about to let her go chasing about the coun­tryside and possibly get herself killed. If Purcell really was part of the outlaw gang, he wouldn't hesitate to harm Jess simply because she was a woman. Just look at her current predicament.

  Besides, Devlin thought grimly, he had a few other bones to pick with Jessica Sommers just now. And he doubted he would ever have a better opportunity. He was alone with her, without her father or Flo hovering around, without any interference at all. Mr. Kwan was standing down the hall as guard and would alert him to any trouble.

  Devlin narrowed his eyes as he gazed at Jess specula­tively. What he was considering wasn't playing fair, cer­tainly, but then fairness hadn't gotten him anywhere with Jess. Extraordinary measures were called for.

  A hard smile touched his lips. He was going to have it out with her right now. Before she left here, Jess was go­ing to learn a few basic truths about herself—and him.

  He reached up and pulled a pin from her hair.

  Jess looked at him in alarm. "What are you doing?" she exclaimed, trying to twist her head away.

  "I'm taking your hair down. I want to see how it looks spread across a pillow when I make love to you."

  "Wh-what? You c-can't be serious," she stammered. "You can't mean to . . . to . . ."

  "Love you? Indeed I do."

  As the pins came loose one by one, her hair fell about her shoulders in gleaming cascades. With the devotion of a connoisseur, Devlin smoothed the long tawny tresses over the red-and-black satin pillow.

  "Beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick and husky.

  His preoccupation with her hair made Jess more furious than his arrogant demands had. She squirmed fiercely. "Devlin, if you dare touch me, I'll shoot you, I swear I will!"

  He smiled that devilish, infuriating smile that was so achingly familiar. "No, you won't, angel. You aren't as tough as you let on. You're a responsive, sensuous woman beneath all that stubbornness."

  "You can't do this to me!"

  "I think I can."

  "I'm warning you, I'll scream—"

  "It won't do you any good. Madam Wong won't inter­fere, not after I promised her a huge sum for leading me to you."

  "That's despicable, buying her off with your filthy money!"

  "No, it's just smart business. She did me a good turn, and I reciprocated."

  Jess would have retorted, except that Devlin had bent over her and was untying the cord that shackled her feet to the lower post. She held her breath, hoping that he had changed his mind and was going to release her entirely.

  But her hope was wasted. He freed her legs, removing even the bonds around her ankles, but he left her arms pin­ioned over her head. Looking smug, he stretched out be­side her on the silken sheets, not touching yet near enough for her to feel the warmth of his body.

  "Damn you, Devlin. . . ."

  "Call me Garrett."

  "I won't . . . you snake!"

  "You don't seem very appreciative, my sweet ingrate. After I went to such trouble to rescue you, I expect at least a proper thank-you. Thank me properly, Jessica. . . ."

  His hand entwined in her tousled mane. Dipping his dark head, he kissed her softly, barely, teasingly.

  When he drew back slightly, Jess glared at him help­lessly. It infuriated her that he was enjoying having her at his mercy. In fact, he looked as if he relished it. "Devlin . . . don't . . ." she pleaded through gritted teeth.

  "You don't want me to make love to you?" A half smile swaggered into one corner of his mouth as he smoothed one hand up the inside of her thigh. "You'll understand if I don't believe your protests." He bent to whisper seduc­tively in her ear. "You go wild every time I touch you. You turn into a tigress in bed. .
. ."

  Even as he spoke, he moved his hand higher, beneath the hem of her chemise, along her hipbone to stroke the velvet of her bare belly. Every muscle in Jess's body tight­ened at his intimate caress. "D-Devlin . . . I swear . . . I'll hate you . . . for this."

  "No, you won't." Withdrawing his hand, he began working loose the row of small buttons on her chemise. In only a moment her full creamy breasts spilled out to him.

  His hot gaze lingered on the lush sight. "You have the loveliest breasts. . . ."

  He probably said that to every woman he undressed, Jess thought with dazed fury.

  As if he couldn't restrain himself, Devlin reached up to cup a pale globe, his palm molding the generous fullness. She closed her eyes, clenching her teeth against the erotic sensations his delicate touch aroused. "You . . . lecherous . . . beast "

  He chuckled brazenly. "I think you like my lechery, sweeting." Purposefully, he put his lean forefinger into his mouth and wet it. Reaching out, he brushed her left nipple, drawing a slow circular pattern around the pink aureole. Jess gasped at the sharp pleasure that raced through her body.

  "I think you like me touching you. And before I'm done with you, you're going to admit it." Each low sensuous word stroked her. "You need me, Jessica . . . and by the time I'm through with you, you're going to know you need me."

  It should have startled her, the determination in his voice. He meant to prove his sexual prowess, his mastery over her. It should have shocked and disturbed her. He wasn't going to stop; he intended to make love to her in a squalid opium den, regardless of her wishes or the moral bankruptcy of preying on a helpless, captive female.

  She gave one last frantic tug on the rope that bound her arms overhead. She was lying half-naked and completely vulnerable to him, yet the sense of being powerless was at the same time sensuously exciting.

  "Just lie still, sweetheart," Devlin ordered softly, his eyes heated with desire.

  The sultry look in his depthless gray gaze was a prom­ise of pleasure. The slow movement of his hand against her silky, shivering flesh was a foreshadowing of the care he meant to take with her.

  Her full trembling breasts blossomed beneath his touch, at his gentle stroking. Jess could do nothing to prevent it. With a knowing smile, Devlin bent to her mouth, giving her light, provocative, indulgent kisses that drew the breath from her body, while his fingers played over her breasts. His arousing hand roamed at will, leaving a trail of delicate flame wherever he touched her. The nipples of her breasts were now tingling points of sensation.

  Leaving them, he worked leisurely downward, over her tight, flat belly, the curve of her hip, her woman's mound.

  "Devlin . . ." Jess wanted to move away from him, from his brazen caresses, but against her will, she wound up straining her hips helplessly toward him, wishing he would ease the sudden powerful ache that was throbbing between her thighs.

  "Hush, sweetheart, I know what you want."

  And it seemed that he did. His dexterous fingers seemed to know just where the most sensitive spots on her body were. Jess's breath faltered as his fingers teased between her legs. Devlin smiled a little at the heated moisture that was there to greet him, a smile which deepened when he caught the look she was giving him. Her amber eyes were filled with a sensual, reluctant pleasure that told him, more than words, the seductive effect he was having on her.

  His skillful fingers continued toying with her . . . slowly, erotically . . . until her breath grew heavy and her legs parted of their own accord. Jess tilted her head back in surrender. Her pride was gone, seared away by the heat of his caresses.

  His thumb brushed aside the folds of her drawers to touch the core of her need, to ply it to heated wanting, while he watched the passion play on her beautiful face. Her hips began to lift and then fall, repeatedly, the rhythm imploring—which he allowed for a time. Then, with gentle deliberation, he sheathed his fingers in her pulsing warmth.

  Jess let out a soft keening moan that turned Devlin's blood hot.

  Ruthlessly he stroked her until she thrashed and whim­pered, until with shuddering spasms, the first shattering re­lease swept through her, brutal and scalding in its intensity.

  Devlin's eyes gleamed with male satisfaction as he bent to kiss the corner of her mouth. Jess lay there shaken and spent, hardly aware what he was doing.

  "Don't fall asleep on me, angel. We aren't nearly fin­ished."

  Startled, she looked up to see the lazy fire in his eyes as he moved over over her and knelt between her legs.

  There was nothing lazy or easy, though, about his as­sault when he kissed her lips again. When his tongue plunged deep and hot into her wanting mouth. Or when he broke off to brush the column of her throat with heated, nibbling caresses. Or when he took her aching nipples into his mouth to lave and suck them.

  Moving his lips downward, he ran warm hands beneath her hips and gently squeezed her buttocks. Lifting her up, he bent to her, his mouth nuzzling through the thin fabric of her drawers, a gesture that sent Jessica into gasping shock.

  "Devlin—stop! What. . . are . . . you—?" She wanted to reach down to him, to make him stop his scandalous ac­tion, but her arms were still pinned securely above her head.

  Not answering, he pressed his mouth right up against her, searching out her heated, weeping flesh. Jess thought she might die from the sensual bliss. He was nibbling at the core of her, stroking her with his tongue, finding her most sheltered secrets.

  "You . . . can't!" The word was almost a shriek.

  "I can, love." He punctuated his answer with soft, wicked kisses, nipping softly, tasting her to his ruthless satisfaction.

  She trembled under his stunning, erotic assault. She couldn't believe this was truly happening, that his dark head was between her burning thighs, giving her the most exquisite pleasure she had ever known. His mouth was like magic, tender and demanding, dictating the actions of her body, silencing the protests of her reason. Her senses sang in wanton harmony as he compelled her surrender.

  He tasted and lapped at her, his lips and tongue claiming her female essence, plundering her with tender savagery. The yielding, primitive scent of her made his groin grind, and strengthened his determination to search out the se­crets of her body. Heedless of her soft pleas, he gripped her bottom with his strong hands and held her up to him, giving him complete access, making the anguished plea­sure inescapable.

  "So sweet . . ." he murmured hoarsely, his tongue thrusting into her moist warmth.

  Her reaction was everything he could have hoped for. She was writhing wildly now, breathing in sharp little gasps, reduced to primitive, pagan need. His lips wet with her dew, Devlin raised his head and looked along the length of her. Her back was arched, her lush, ripe breasts jutting proud and bare with the thrusting motion she made.

  He could have sent her over the edge. He could have given her the ecstasy she was sobbing for. Yet he held back, watching her, savoring his power.

  His hesitation was not what Jess wanted. Not when she was in such agony. Such sweet, tumultuous agony. She had reached a point of shuddering, throbbing need, and yet he wouldn't give her the shattering fulfillment she craved.

  "Say it, Jess," he whispered hoarsely.

  With her senses so dazed, she could make little sense of his demand. "Wh-what?"

  "Say you need me."

  Confusion assaulted her. He was making her confession the price of completion?

  "Say it, or I'll leave you aching like this. You need me to make love to you, you need me to rescue you from this place, you need me to stop Purcell from getting away. You need me."

  Fury and frustration swept through her, so fiercely that she wanted to scream at him. And yet she had no choice. She did need him.

  "Say it, Jessica."

  "Yes, I need you. . . . Devlin, please!" "Garrett."

  "Yes, Garrett . . . please."

  Her breathless, keening plea was more demand than sur­render, but it satisfied him. His eyes a hot, liquid s
moke, he freed his swollen, thick erection from his trousers and, low­ering himself to cover her body, thrust deep inside her.

  The sweet force of his invasion made her gasp, yet she wrapped her legs about his powerful hips and moaned at the delight of sheathing him. The glorious melding of his flesh with hers was a pleasure too fierce to be borne. Sec­onds later, she cried out in savage release and stiffened as hard racking shudders convulsed her, as wave after wave of violent, blinding ecstasy ripped through her.

  The fiery pagan climax caught Devlin in its clutches. The wild creature bucking beneath him with such abandon made his body explode, and he poured himself into her endlessly, his own harsh cry joining hers.

  Neither of them were sure how much time passed before their senses returned and their breathing settled down to something resembling normal. They lay cuddled together, his body around hers, the lamplight playing over their strengthless forms.

  Finally Devlin roused himself to reach up and untie the cords over her head. When Jess gave a soft moan at the rush of feeling that flowed into her fingers, he brought her hands to his lips, brushing the red-marked skin at her wrists with feather-light, penitent kisses. She didn't even open her eyes. Tenderly, Devlin gathered her boneless body into his arms and nuzzled her ear. "The next time I intend to take off both our clothes."

  Limp and languid from his caresses, Jess couldn't form a protest. She should be furious with him, she knew, but she couldn't summon the energy. Devlin had won this lat­est battle, yet-she wouldn't call herself the loser. In fact, she could barely remember what they had been fighting about. She could almost fall asleep. . . .

  He couldn't even get a response out of her when his hand strayed up to fondle her bare breast. "But that Will have to wait," he said reluctantly. "Right now I'm going to take you home and then find your father. And then I'm go­ing after Purcell. Alone. You're going to stay put."

  Slowly, Jess opened her eyes. The heavy sexuality that had brought them together hung in the air, resonating be­tween them.

  "And you won't give me any arguments," Devlin added firmly.

  She remembered then what they had been fighting about. His blackmail.