Cloudcastle

by Nan Ryan

  The after-theater crowd was out en masse. The big room overflowed with handsomely dressed customers and liveried servants. The whir of the roulette wheel, the clatter of the dice upon green felt, deep laughter and shouts of lucky winners, filled the air. Grinning happily, Shelby's gray eyes cast about, searching for a roulette table with room for them all.

  He saw it far in the back of the casino. On a raised, partially curtained landing, one lone man sat at the roulette table, his back to the room. A hushed crowd stood at a respectable distance, watching his play.

  "Come along," said Shelby, guiding the two women through the crowd of smiling patrons. Unattached males looked up from their games to stare admiringly at the russet-haired judge whose slender, sensual body was so temptingly displayed in a daring gown of turquoise velvet.

  Whispers followed in her wake, and more than one who was supposedly a good friend of Lord Blackmore's secretly daydreamed, wishing that the beautiful judge might, on this evening, behave as befitted a woman dressed in the breathtakingly revealing gown. Each inwardly sighed and turned back to his game. There was no chance of such an occurrence.

  These men knew that Her Honor, Judge Vallance, although seductively clad and exuding sensuality, was ever the lady. Any hopes they harbored that she might misbehave were ludicrous. She never had. She wouldn't this night.

  Shelby, Noel, and Natalie reached the far side of the big, loud room. Directly before them, up three carpeted steps, sat the roulette table with its lone player. Natalie blinked, recognizing the seated man with golden jetons stacked before him. The wide shoulders in the ebony velvet coat. The wavy raven hair. The lean brown hand holding a thin, dark cheroot. "Uncle Shelby…" she began nervously.

  "Shhh, honey," he silenced her, his gray gaze resting on the player. He waited with the others, watching, until the little white ball, madly whirring around the varnished roulette wheel, came to rest in the number eight slot. Whistles and cheers went up from the spectators, although the seated man made not a sound.

  Languidly, the winner pulled tall stacks of gold jetons toward him. Only then did Shelby Sutton, grinning widely, shaking his silver head in joyous disbelief, urge both women up the carpeted steps. And Natalie felt her heart stop beating when her uncle said in a voice loud enough to be heard above the din, "Captain Covington, tenn-hut!"

  The brown raking hands slowed and paused. The well-shaped dark head snapped up. The wide, velvet-draped shoulders straightened. With astounding grace and speed Kane was up out of his chair and pivoting. His unblinking blue gaze went at once to the beaming face of the silver-haired man standing below him.

  "Colonel Shelby Sutton!" drawled Kane warmly, his lean hand snapping off a crisp military salute.

  Chapter Twenty

  Natalie could not believe it.

  It could not be true! A case of mistaken identity, that's what it was. These two men couldn't possibly know each other.

  Natalie blinked and shook her head incredulously. Hand clamped firmly on Kane's right shoulder, Shelby Sutton turned quickly, his gray eyes dancing, and proclaimed happily, "Noel Salvato, Natalie Vallance, I want you to meet a very dear friend!"

  Kane nodded politely to the singer, spoke her name, then let his blue gaze settle on Natalie. Looking directly into her horrified green eyes, he said in a low, even voice, "Judge Vallance, how nice to see you this evening."

  "You two know each other?" Shelby asked ecstatically.

  "Know each other?" Natalie's tone was deceptively calm. "Why, we're neighbors, aren't we, Mr. Covington?" She smiled then, and only Kane read the icy contempt in that smile.

  "Will wonders never cease!" exclaimed Shelby. "I had no idea. Let's get a private salon and visit, and—wait—wait, Kane, you finished playing?"

  "Yes, Colonel Shelby."

  Shelby glanced over his shoulder at the tall stacks of shiny golden jetons. His smiling mouth stretched wider. "Win much, Captain?" Kane grinned at Shelby. "Ten thousand."

  Shelby Sutton laughed merrily. "This is your lucky night, Captain Covington!"

  "It seems to be," said Kane, nodding to the croupier to collect and hold his winnings, while Natalie silently ground her teeth. Ten thousand, she thought desperately. Dear Lord, he can last for months on ten thousand.

  "… and we'll order up some champagne," Shelby Sutton was saying, and the next thing Natalie knew, the foursome was ensconced inside an intimate, tastefully decorated second-floor salon. Shelby and Noel sat side by side on a peach brocade sofa, facing her across a marble-topped table on which a white-coated waiter deposited a silver bucket, a magnum of champagne chilling in its icy depths.

  Natalie sat on an identical sofa. Beside her was Kane Covington, looking strikingly handsome in a finely cut dinner jacket of soft, ebony velvet, snug black trousers white shirt, and black silk tie. He exuded the insufferable self-confidence that was, to him, second nature. The sprawling, relazed posture of his long, lean body seemed to emphasize the insolent demeanor that most females found irresistible. Natalie found it irritating.

  Was the man never ill at ease?

  Gratefully, Natalie accepted the glass of champagne Kane handed her. She listened distractedly as her uncle spoke of the days the two men spent together in the war. It was clear that Shelby Sutton was genuinely fond of the younger man and that Kane looked up to her uncle more than she would have thought him capable of respecting any man. Or woman.

  Shelby didn't so much as blink an eyelash when Kane coolly told him how he'd come to be living in Cloudcastle, Colorado Territory. And Kane was not at all hesitant in speaking of his deed to Promontory Point, remarking casually that he intended to live on his land. If Uncle Shelby was shocked or outraged, he didn't show it. He was grinning and nodding his gleaming silver head, while his long arm moved about the blond singer, drawing her close. Noel Salvato talked animatedly with both men, obviously charmed and having a grand time.

  Natalie wanted to have a good time as well. She didn't want anything, or anyone, spoiling this beautiful wintry evening. Forcing her dislike of Kane into the background, she sipped her champagne and let the bubbly wine continue to warm and relax her. She caught herself laughing responsively at something amusing Kane said.

  "I've an excellent idea," stated Shelby Sutton shortly. "The four of us will ride up to Cloud West and finish our celebration." He squeezed Noel's bare shoulders. "I'm famished, aren't you, Kane?"

  Natalie's gaze happened to be on Kane's face. "Ah… you're very kind, Colonel, but I must decline."

  "Nonsense, Captain." Shelby shot to his feet. "We won't let you decline. It's been how long—three, four years?—since last we met. You're coming to Cloud West, Captain Covington. That's an order!"

  Natalie would have sworn she saw a flicker of unease in Kane's blue eyes before he graciously accepted. "By your leave, Colonel."

  Outside, the tall, coatless Kane fell into step beside Natalie, gallantly taking her arm when they stepped down into the icy street. Shelby Sutton and his pretty companion followed closely, Shelby bending down to hear what the blond singer was whispering.

  Parked before the now darkened opera house, the Black-more carnage waited, old William dozing atop the box. Kane handed Natalie into the coach's warm interior and followed, stepping past to take a seat beside her.

  The other couple reached the big carnage, stopped, and stood framed in the open door. Pretty, blond Noel Salvato was laughing gaily, as though she knew a delightful secret. Shelby grinned down at her, leaned inside and said with a sly smile, "We'll see you in an hour at Cloud West. Noel has a carnage and driver at her disposal, provided by the opera company., We'll ride up in it." He lifted a hand and tipped the brim of his silk topper, purposely ignoring Kane's and Natalie's protests. Shelby grinned wickedly, closed the carnage door, and stepped back, arm encircling Noel Salvato.

  Old William clicked his tongue to the matched blacks and the polished carriage rolled away while two laughing people stood in the street, waving their good-byes. Neither noticed a tall
, thin man standing in the shadows outside Gaiety's. But he noticed them.

  His cold-eyed gaze rested on the pair for only a second, then went once again to the black carnage rapidly receding in the distance. He watched until it disappeared. He had been watching from the moment Kane Covington had followed Natalie Vallance across the big gambling hall, placed her long cape around her shoulders, and ushered her out into the cold, moonlit night. He had watched the dark man guide the slender beauty across the slippery street, his hand holding her possessively, as though he owned her. And he had watched when the pair stepped into the Blackmore coach.

  Burl Leatherwood turned and walked away.

  Dead certain that Kane would seize this opportunity to tease and torment her, Natalie pulled her fur-lined cape protectively around her. Alone with the disturbing man, she became, for the first time all evening, acutely aware of her nudity beneath the velvet gown.

  Keeping her long, slender legs tightly crossed, she cast an indifferent glance at Kane, fully expecting to see him leaning threateningly close, a leering, lascivious smile on his hard, handsome face.

  Ever the enigma, Kane stared moodily straight ahead, mute and unsmiling. Sitting with his lean fingers clutching his bent knees, he looked for all the world as though he were the nervous, endangered prey, rather than the brash, menacing predator.

  Natalie frowned and pondered this strange turn of events. What was his game now? Why was he ignoring her when, for the next hour, he literally had her captive inside this darkened, moving coach.

  Studying the quiet, dark man from beneath her lowered lashes, Natalie momentarily solved the puzzle. She knew why Kane was distant, unreachable, so little-boy-shy all of a sudden. Natalie surmised that this dark, sullen southerner had his own strange set of values. While he had no qualms about seducing the fiancée of an acquaintance, Lord Blackmore, he drew the line at making love to the niece of a fellow officer, Colonel Shelby Sutton.

  Natalie began to smile. Her fun was not over after all.

  Lifting her silk-gloved fingers to her throat, Natalie unfastened the braided clap holding together her long, fur-lined cape. "Would you give me a hand, Kane?" she asked, softly.

  His dark head turned toward her and he started in bafflement. "It's freezing cold," he told her, "surely you don't mean to—"

  "Yes. I do," she assured him, opening her wrap. "I'm warm. Much too warm."

  She could hardly keep from laughing when he reluctantly eased the cape off her shoulders. A muscle jumped in his hard jaw when she turned a little in the seat, lifting her body up, motioning him to pull the voluminous wrap from under her.

  Eyes quickly averting from the generous expanse of bare bosom before him, Kane swore under his breath and snatched the cape free, holding it awkwardly on his lap.

  Natalie's laughter tinkled in his ears. "Kane, toss my wrap across to the other seat. You needn't hold it all the way to Cloud West."

  Kane didn't look at her. He carefully folded the luxurious cape and placed it on the empty seat. His dark head swung around swiftly when Natalie placed a warm hand on his arm. "You're going to freeze to death," Kane bit out, brooding blue eyes holding hers.

  "Not if you keep me warm." She smiled seductively and tightened her grip on his arm.

  Kane moved her hand away, looking confused and annoyed. His eyes strayed back to her ivory shoulders, her full bosom, and he swallowed bar. "Don't flirt with me, Judge. It's not becoming. It's boring."

  "Boring?" she said with a smile. "Why, Kane, I can't believe that." Ignoring the dark scowl on his harshly planed face, she moved closer to him and ran her forefinger up the black velvet sleeve covering his right arm. "I don't believe I bore you, Kane." Her fingers slid over to his satin lapel. "I think I frighten you."

  Kane brushed her hand away. "Behave yourself, damn it."

  Unperturbed, Natalie smiled naughtily and leaned close to his ear, whispering in an exaggerated southern drawl, "Why, Cap'n, honey. Hush my mouth! I can't believe you'd speak like that befo' a lady."

  "You're not acting like a lady."

  "No?" she said, smiling prettily, "Well, Cap'n, I didn't figure you wanted some simperin' southern belle who might come down with an attack of the vapors if a man so much as kissed her. No, sir, I know you like—"

  "Stop it, Judge, or I'll—"

  "You'll what, Cap'n?" Natalie laughingly interrupted. "Turn me over your knee? Tell my uncle on me?"

  Kane was angry. His eyes were hard, flinty. Lean jaw set. He was madder still when Natalie teasingly accused, "You're afraid of me, Cap'n. You want me and that scares you."

  Kane felt his muscles tighten. "No, Your Honor, I don't want you." His eyes, meeting hers, were wintry.

  "You do," she whispered huskily, "you want me, Kane. I know you want me."

  "No," he repeated harshly, "I don't."

  Natalie ignored the statement. Lifting a gloved hand to the perfect knot of his black silk tie, she said, "You do, and I'll prove it."

  Kane's long fingers swiftly closed over hers, stopping her, his grip so firm, she felt that the fragile bones in her hand might shatter. "What the hell do you want?" he asked coldly.

  Natalie gazed into his angry eyes and said softly, "I want you to release my hand and relax for a moment. If you are not afraid, you'll do it."

  Kane's fingers loosened and fell away. "I don't want you, Judge." His tone was flat and determined.

  "I know," she responded, and turned more fully to him. Kane sat stiffly, allowing her to undo his tie. That accomplished, Natalie deftly unfastened the top button of his crisp white shirt and heard his quick intake of air. Still he did not move. Silk-clad hands amazingly dexterous, Natalie hastily drew four more buttons through their buttonholes and Kane's immaculate shirt fell open to his waist.

  She pushed the shirt apart and let her emerald eyes drift down to the dark, muscular chest with its mat of black hair. She licked her bottom lip provocatively and slowly lifted her eyes to Kane's. His were unreadable. Coolly he said, "That about do it, Mrs. Vallance? You've half undressed me. Are you satisfied now?" A cruel, cold smile curled his full top lip.

  "No, Cap'n," Natalie told him, "not quite."

  With a bravado made possible by the champagne she'd consumed and the sure knowledge that the niece of Colonel Shelby Sutton was as safe as an infant with Captain Covington, Natalie lifted her hand to the soft velvet covering her full bosom. Purposely waiting until Kane's eyes had followed that hand, she let her fingers slowly, seductively move to her left breast. They touched, they slid, they moved over and directly beneath, while Kane's rapt gaze followed.

  Transfixed, he watched as that small, silk-clad hand glided up over the graining velvet and went to the buckle on top of her shoulder. Hooking a thumb beneath the buckle, Natalie teasingly pushed it down over her shoulder and released it. The turquoise velvet bodice remainder in place, but Natalie's left shoulder was totally bare. And when she drew a deep, long breath, the lush velvet slipped lower still.

  Natalie loved the tortured expression that crossed Kane's dark face. Swiftly he lifted his eyes to hers. Natalie smiled and slowly leaned toward him.

  "Let your heart beat against mine, then tell me you don't want me," she said triumphantly.

  She pressed her torso to his bare chest and heard Kane's deep, shuddering groan. At once she felt the sexual danger of her foolish game. She trembled, reading the look in his beautiful blue eyes. Steaming anger had changed to steaming desire, and she was afraid. Quickly using her hands to lever herself from his chest, Natalie said apologetically, fearfully, "Kane, I shouldn't have—"

  But her sentence was never finished. Kane's hot, hungry mouth swallowed the words as his shaking arms crushed her to him. Natalie could feel his heavy heartbeat thundering with her own and knew in that instant that she was lost.

  His lips and tongue were sweetly plundering her mouth and Natalie had neither the strength nor the inclination to stop him. No one had kissed her the way Kane kissed her and she gloried in the pleasu
re of it. His kiss was at once abandoned and ravenous, yet tender and lingering. Eager and demanding, yet languid and solicitous. Brutal and lustful, yet gentle and affectionate.

  His full, smooth lips molded to her own, his tongue did wild, wonderful things to the sensitive inside of her mouth, his sharp white teeth nibbled and raked, biting her playfully, and by the time that first consuming kiss ended and Kane lifted his dark head, Natalie, murmured hopelessly, "We can't, Kane. Let me go, let me up."

  At sometime during that long, deep kiss, Kane had completely turned her about and pulled her across his knees. Now she half sat, half reclined against him, her shoulders supported by his encircling arm. Lips nuzzling her ear, Kane murmured heavily, "No, I'll not let you go. Witch, beautiful, tempting witch. Yes, I want you. I must have you or die."

  He pulled back a little to peer down at her. Natalie looked up into those passion-heated blue eyes and felt totally powerless against the intense sexuality of this man. She whimpered softly, but made no earnest effort to stop him when Kane unbuckled the velvet buckle on top of her left shoulder. She held her breath as the lined-velvet bodice fell away and her bare, trembling breast spilled out. Kane lowered his dark head, placed a closed-mouth kiss on the bloom of her nipple, then straightened. Urging her body next to his own, his mouth came back to hers. Pausing, lips hovering so close to her own that the could feel his breath, he told her hoarsely, "And I'll have you right here, right now."

  His mouth took hers then and Natalie felt her bared nipple, and the one still draped in velvet, tighten into pebblehard points of aching pleasure. The crisp, thick hair on Kane's warm, muscular chest rubbed against her bare nipple and Natalie instinctively pressed closer to him, her heart thrumming a wild out-of-control rhythm.