Pulling away from him, she said, “You’ve made your point. Will Simone be joining you?” She sounded shrewish and hostile to her own ears.
Dark clouds seemed to gather in Tony’s eyes. Had the very mention of his love upset him? The thought crossed her mind that he must love Simone very much. “I’m tired. Can you show me to my room?” he asked abruptly.
“I will,” Lavinia chimed in and possessively took Tony’s arm to lead the way. Her auburn head tilted up, and her eyes peered into Tony’s. “We’re going to become very good friends, I think.”
“Lavinia’s on the prowl again,” Seth noted.
“Be quiet,” Laurel ground out and sank onto the sofa, holding her suddenly aching head in her hands.
Carson patted her gently on the back. “I wanted to tell you, but Arthur made me promise not to say anything.”
“I don’t know why he did this to me, but I can’t live here with my soon-to-be ex-husband.”
Carson cleared his throat and lifted her chin. “I don’t know how to say this, Laurel, but Tony and you are still legally married and will be for some time. He never filed for divorce.”
~
“Miss Laurel, you can’t stay in Mr. Tony’s room lookin’ like this. You ain’t bathed yet. You look like somethin’ the cat dragged in while Miss Lavinia is all prettied up. What will Mr. Tony think?”
“I don’t give a damn what Tony thinks, and stop harping on how I look. A little dust never hurt anyone.”
“Hmph! I remember a time you cared about wearin’ nice dresses. This ranch has changed you.”
“Get out, Gincie!” Laurel slammed the door of Tony’s room and paced restlessly. The faint glow of evening dimly silhouetted the furnishings. A large four-poster bed, covered with a colorful patchwork quilt, stood against a wall, a braided rug on the floor beside it. At one point she nearly tripped during her frantic pacing and, in a rage, kicked it away with the toe of her boot. Catching a quick view of herself in the mirror, bedraggled looking and dirty, she cursed at realizing that Gincie was right. She looked terrible. What a study in contrasts she was from Lavinia in her frilly, pressed gown. She was dressed like a dirty urchin.
Unconsciously Laurel rubbed at her dirt-streaked face with her fingers before finally settling down and sitting in a rocker near the window. Her gaze strayed to the mountains, hoping to find peace in their majesty, but all she could do was impatiently tap her foot and grit her teeth and talk to herself.
“How dare that arrogant bastard not file for a divorce. He told me before I left Petit Coteau he’d take care of all the arrangements. Like hell he did! I should never have believed him. He’s lied to me since the day I met him. But I’ll find out the truth even if I have to sit here all night and wait for him and Lavinia to come back. Ooooh!” She folded her arms in a huff.
Earlier in the parlor Seth had been quite disturbed by the news that Tony hadn’t filed for divorce. After Carson left for home, Seth had been ready to run upstairs and bring Tony to task. Laurel had stopped him, insisting that Tony was her problem. She hadn’t agreed to marry Seth yet. His eyes had turned a dark shade of blue when she told him this. If he had given her any hint of trouble, she would have smacked him and thrown his ring in his face. As she headed up the stairs to Tony’s room, he had said nothing.
Gincie had met her on the landing to tell her that Lavinia and Tony had sneaked down the backstairs for an evening buggy ride. This news had only served to fan Laurel’s anger higher. She wasn’t certain if she was more angry with Lavinia for spiriting Tony away, or with Tony for leaving without speaking to her about the divorce.
Now as she rocked back and forth in the chair, a sense of rivalry with Lavinia surfaced. Why had Lavinia and Tony gone off together? Did Tony think he could reenter her life, still her husband, and carry on with Lavinia? He was a notorious womanizer, as she well knew. However, to think of Simone at Petit Coteau, swelling with child and believing herself secure in Tony’s love while he gallivanted around the ranch with Lavinia, gave Laurel a great deal of perverted pleasure. But she was also wary. Tony had professed to hate Lavinia. Why was he now suddenly taking an evening buggy ride with her?
She waited until the clock in the foyer chimed nine. Her anger had long ago given way to agitation, and she was about to go to her room when she heard Lavinia’s fluty laugh, followed by Tony’s deep voice, ascend the staircase. His room was now in darkness, but when he opened the door, light from the wall sconces in the hallway spilled into the room.
“I had a delightful time,” Laurel heard Lavinia say. “I was silly not to bring a shawl. Thank you for keeping me warm. Maybe we can do this again another time.” A husky laugh followed.
“I’ll look forward to it, Lavinia.” Tony moved, and before Laurel’s startled gaze, Lavinia threw her arms around Tony’s neck and kissed him. Tony’s arms went around her waist, and Laurel felt as if her heart were being squeezed.
Lavinia moved her lips away. “I’ve wanted to do that all evening. No, I’ve wanted to do that since the time I saw you on the steamboat, but you were quite taken with Laurel.”
“Yes, well…” Tony disentangled her arms from around his neck. “See you in the morning.”
The door closed, and Laurel heard Tony groping for the oil lamp on the bureau top. When the room was finally bathed in a soft, orange glow, Laurel startled him when she spoke.
“Are you going to tell Lavinia that you’re a man she should fear? Because if you don’t, I will.”
“You are the quiet one,” he said and threw her a smile as he pulled off his jacket. “Does your presence in my room mean you’ve come to seduce me?”
“I wouldn’t touch you if you were the last man on earth. I want to know why you never filed for a divorce.” Her voice was so detached, so unemotional, that she wondered if she were really speaking. Tony seemed to hear the aloofness and replied in a crisp tone as he yanked open the buttons on his shirtfront.
“I didn’t have the time to pursue it, Laurel. A large rainstorm nearly drowned the crops. Then Jean was in a carriage accident and broke both his legs—”
“Is he all right?” Laurel interrupted him.
“Yes, but for a while he was at Petit Coteau since the accident happened on a rainy night after he left the house. Since he was so close by, I had him carried to a guest room and sent for Doctor Fusilier. Then Denise showed up to care for him, and she turned the household upside down. So, you see, I had a full house.”
“Simone was there, I presume.”
He pulled off his cufflinks, saying nothing. An icy chill permeated the room. “She was there, wasn’t she?” Laurel persisted.
“I’d rather not talk about Simone.”
“Of course,” Laurel stated haughtily, feeling foolish and hurt. “A gentleman doesn’t discuss his paramours with his wife.”
Rising from the chair, she stood with arms akimbo, not the least bit bothered by the fact that Tony was taking off his shirt. Anger boiled within her, pushing aside any embarrassment she might have felt.
“I’m damned mad that you never filed, Tony. If I had known, I would have gone to a lawyer.”
“I did go to a lawyer. Remember old Mr. Dabadie in Washington. Well, I spoke to him about handling the divorce, but he died two days later. I guess he never got around to it.”
Laurel groaned. “Just my luck to still be tied to you.”
Tony stood before her, shirtless. His hairy chest was only inches from her, as were his arms, his lips. An insane desire to be gathered in his strong embrace and held against his beating heart, to feel the soft fur against her cheek, was quelled when Tony’s hand grabbed the wrist of her left arm, wrapping his fingers around it like a steel band. His dark eyes filled with unbridled rage as the ring on her finger caught the light and flashed green and silver fire.
“Seems that Seth wasted no time. When is the wedding to be, or did you start the honeymoon early?”
“What do you care? I’m certain that you and Simone weren’
t waiting until the divorce was final. So don’t judge me.” She wrenched her hand away, aware of his strange silence again when Simone was mentioned.
Tony took a deep breath. “Laurel, we must come to some sort of an understanding. I agreed to buy the ranch because Arthur Delaney begged me. I haven’t any desire to ranch here, but the man was desperate. He couldn’t sell his cattle, and he knew he was dying. If I didn’t buy the ranch, he’d be leaving his children an operation that would surely fail.”
“How noble of you.” Laurel moved away from him, keeping all hint of emotion from her face.
Tony shook his head. “No, it wasn’t. I would have refused him except for one very important fact he mentioned in his telegram to me. He said he was your father.”
Laurel’s chin trembled. She held onto the bedpost for support. She had never wanted anyone other than her father and Carson Turner to know that. She hated the sympathy she saw in Tony’s eyes for her.
“Now you know I’m the bastard child of Arthur Delaney. My mother never even loved him. She loved Sylvester all her life.” He made a move to touch her, but she jerked away. “I don’t need pity, Tony, especially not yours. She managed to compose herself. “Tell me your plans for the Little L.”
He considered her for a moment before speaking. “For one, I’m going to make this the best damned cattle ranch in Texas. I’ve arranged to have some of my Brahman shipped here to crossbreed with your Texas cattle. It’s been done quite successfully in other parts of Texas and seems to eliminate cattle fever, which is the main reason the market up North folded for Arthur. I spoke to Lavinia about it, and she’s quite enthusiastic over the idea.”
“I just bet she is.”
“Now, Laurel, don’t show your claws. Lavinia is your sister.”
“Something which I haven’t told her, and don’t you tell her. What’s the second reason?”
A flame danced in Tony’s eyes. “I’m going to use this experience as a way to get you back. I’m glad old Dabadie didn’t file for a divorce. I love you, Laurel. I want you to come home with me.”
Her face grew white with shock, and she shook her head in utter disbelief. “You’re crazy! I’ll never return to Louisiana with you. Have you forgotten your pregnant tart, waiting like a vulture at Petit Coteau?”
“I haven’t forgotten Simone,” he said slowly. “I can never forget her.” He glanced away in seeming distraction, then focused on her again. “You’re my wife and will stay my wife. No man will ever have you but me.”
Tony leaped forward, and Laurel found herself ensnared in his arms. She struggled against him, but he held her two arms behind her back. His lips descended to quiet the curses that sprang from her mouth until she grew quiet. He sensed more than felt her surrender, as she held herself rigidly against him. But her lips softened and seemed to blossom under his kiss, almost as if she were inviting him to plunder the dark recesses of her mouth with his tongue. He would have willingly gone further, but her surrender was all he wished for now. The rest would come later when he had won her love and trust.
Laurel’s legs almost gave way when Tony released her. She fell onto the bed and gazed up at him with eyes so bright and green they resembled a clear mountain stream.
“I hate you,” she muttered through clenched teeth. However, she wasn’t certain if she hated Tony or herself for responding to him.
“You liked that very much, chérie, but are too cowardly to admit it. Now, I’d bet that Lavinia would never say such a thing when passion overwhelmed her.”
“What does Lavinia have to do with any of this?”
“Lavinia is my means of getting you back into my bed and my life again. She’s an unwitting pawn, so to speak.”
Laurel jumped off the bed, her face red with rising anger. “I told you that I haven’t told her she’s my sister. You can’t mean to blackmail me into returning to your bed. I’ll simply tell her the truth.”
Tony wagged a finger at her. “No, no, no. You misunderstand. I don’t care if she knows you’re her sister, but you care about her to protect her from me. Remember how you protected her from Auguste St. Julian’s vindictive relative? You went to great lengths to keep her safe. She eluded me because of your help, Laurel, but I’m on the Little L now. Hell, I own the Little L! Lavinia Delaney is at my mercy, trapped in a corner where she should have been long ago.”
“Don’t harm her, Tony!” Laurel pleaded.
“I won’t, chérie, if you become my wife again.” He leaned into her, his breath fanning her face and sending shivers of warning and desire down her spine. “And that means sleeping in my bed again, giving to me what Seth has been getting.”
“Seth means nothing to me,” she found herself saying, not quite sure why she wanted to convince him of that fact. But she clamped her mouth shut and surveyed him as a predator, a hunter. His eyes contained a feral gleam, and a slight smile split his sensual lips at her statement. Damn! she silently cursed. Why couldn’t she have kept her mouth shut. He would think she hadn’t given in to Seth because she still ached for him—which was true, but he didn’t have to know it.
Tony was manipulating her again. She had thought she was done with him, and here he was again, spinning a web of revenge and enchantment about her. She had no alternative but to give in to him. Clearly, he might harm Lavinia.
Laurel backed away and walked to the other side of the room. “If I agree to this preposterous bargain, you’ll leave Lavinia alone?”
“I promise I will.”
Laurel sneered. “I know how you keep your promises. I’ll think about it and give you my answer later.” She started to walk past him, but he grabbed her upper arm and twisted her around to face him.
“I want your answer now, Laurel. This minute. I’m not a patient man, and you know that.”
“You’re hurting me.”
He dropped her arm, but his gaze rooted her to the spot.
“What’s your answer? Do you share my bed again, or do I start my revenge against Lavinia in earnest on the morrow? And never fear that I will make her life miserable.”
Laurel shook, knowing he would finally have his chance at Lavinia. What had happened to the gentle man she had come to love? She had been wrong about Tony from the beginning. He was wild and untamed, thinking only of himself and not of others, especially not her. Sometimes Lavinia aggravated her so much that she would have gladly clobbered her, but Lavinia was her sister, and that meant more than when she had thought they were cousins. She must protect Lavinia from Tony’s wrath, even if it meant humbling herself and becoming his wife again.
“Lavinia will rue the day she walked into my uncle’s life,” Tony reminded her.
“Damn you and damn your threats!” Laurel hissed. “Fine, I’ll be your wife again, but don’t expect me to like it.”
Tony laughed. “My darling, I promise you that you’ll eat those words. Where are you going?” Tony asked, seeing that she was starting for the door.
“To get a bath and go to bed,” she shot back.
“I’ll have Rosita pull out the tub and fill it for you. Then Gincie can bring in your gown, but I doubt you’ll need it.”
“What! What do you mean? I’m going to my room.”
Tony opened his arms and gestured around the bedroom. ‘‘This is your room, my love, as of this night. You won’t need the other one. In the morning I’ll tell Gincie to put your clothes in the wardrobe in here. From now on, you bathe in here and sleep in here, and do whatever I say in here. We made a bargain, Laurel. You’re a person who expects others to keep their word, so don’t you renege now.”
“But—”
He shot her a warning glance, and she knew he meant that their deal would begin that night. He took her hostile silence for acquiescence, and within half an hour, Rosita was carrying pails of warm water upstairs for Laurel’s bath.
When the tub was filled, Laurel stripped off her clothes, grateful that Tony had had the decency to leave the room. Rosita left her, and Laurel sett
led into the water, which lapped over her like a warm summer’s tide. She washed herself with soap that smelled of wild violets and washed her hair, rinsing it by dipping her head under the water. She heard the door open and close and, thinking it was Rosita, asked for the towel before she opened her eyes. Dutifully the towel was presented to her, and Laurel’s eyes flickered open to settle on the person who stood above her.
It was Tony, practically leering at her. His gaze lazily perused her swelling breasts, the rose-tipped nipples hard and protracted and quite visible beneath the water’s surface, to follow a path past the creamy globes to the hollow of her neck and upward to her face, framed by a swath of dark, wet hair, hanging over her left shoulder. Then to her chagrin, his eyes moved again to her breasts and seemed to see that part of her body that lay hidden beneath the liquid. Laurel felt herself coloring.
“You can put your eyes back in your head, Tony,” she found herself saying icily. “My body is old news to you now.”
“Far from old, chérie.” He had the good grace to sit on the bed, against the headboard, and remove his rapacious gaze from her. But this was only momentary. No sooner had he stuffed a pillow behind his back than he watched her again. “Don’t let me disturb your bath.”
“I won’t!” She sat in the tub and dried her hair vigorously with the towel.
“Are you going to stay in that tub all night, Laurel?”
“I’m waiting for you to be a gentleman and leave the room so I can get out and dress.” The water had grown cold, and goose flesh rose on her arms. She began to shiver.
“You know I’m hardly the gentleman where you’re concerned. I advise you to get out. If you sit in there all night, you’ll look like a prune in the morning. The choice is yours, but I’m not shutting my eyes or leaving the room.” Tony clasped his hands behind his head and settled deeper, making himself quite comfortable and Laurel very uneasy.
She searched the room for something to cover herself, but all she had was the skimpy towel she had used to dry her hair, and it was wet. She would barely be able to cover part of her torso with it. As always, Tony had won, leaving her no alternative but to rise from the tub with the wet towel hiding as much of her as possible. But before she did, she grabbed the washcloth and hurled it at him, hitting him in the center of his chest.
Midnight Flame Page 30
