Arizona Gold

by Maggie James

  Ryder attempted to force his mind to other things—like finding the hidden trail through Peralta Canyon. Spotting the creek bed, dry and brittle as old bone, he knew he was going the right way. Trees and brush were pale and dust colored in the hot, hazy light, desperately in need of the rain that threatened. Soon they were wrapped in a world of stillness—canyon pools, birds, buzzards, and barrel cactus.

  As they headed into a pile of boulders, Kitty turned to make sure her horse was following. “He doesn’t look like he’s limping very bad now,” she remarked.

  Ryder twisted about to see also. “I told you it wasn’t bad. He just needs a bit of rest. Your riding him would aggravate it, and he could stumble again and do some serious damage then.”

  “Are we almost there?” The trail narrowed considerably, and she winced as her knees brushed against the rocks on either side.

  “Just about.”

  “How on earth did you ever find this place?”

  “If a man wants to live long in this territory, he has to learn his way. So I’ve done a bit of exploring.”

  The closeness, the intimacy, was overwhelming, and Kitty found herself wondering how they were ever going to be able to travel together, camp together, without him seeing how it unnerved her. But maybe he wasn’t experiencing the same feelings, so it would not be on his mind. She told herself she only imagined the hardness pressed against her.

  Daring to hope conversation would get her mind on other things, she pointed to a shrubby sort of cactus that appeared to be covered in gold and silver fur. “Oh, it’s beautiful,” she cried. “It looks so soft.”

  He chuckled. “That softness you think you see is actually thousands of tiny little spines—needles—and once they get on your clothes or in your flesh they’re very painful and real hard to get out. You have to pluck them one by one.”

  Suddenly she yielded to impulse and said, “You’re always eager to tell me about the land but never anything about yourself, like where you come from, or if you have a family.”

  “It’s not important,” he said uneasily.

  “All I know is that you’re a gunfighter.”

  “My past doesn’t matter.”

  She continued as though he had not spoken. “Sometimes I wonder why you want to help me find my uncle’s gold. After all, we might not be able to, and then it will be a waste of your time.”

  “I’m hoping it won’t be. And don’t forget,” he interjected to allay any suspicions she might be having, “I’m expecting a reward.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be generous, I promise, but it all depends on how much we find.”

  Ryder was not worried in the least. Neither was he concerned over the amount of his so-called reward. He would take what was rightfully his—half. And it would not matter if, by then, she figured out who he really was, because he would be leading his people to escape across the border as quick as he could.

  He would let nothing stand in his way.

  And it made no difference that Kitty Parrish made his blood boil with desire. She came from another world and could not be a part of his any more than he could ever content himself in hers. So he would take one day at a time, damn it, find the gold, and get the hell out of her life.

  “You certainly can be mysterious,” she said when he lapsed into a cold silence. “I answered all your questions about me, and—”

  He cut her off. “The cave should be around the next bend.”

  “But how did you find it? What were you doing way back in here?”

  “I told you—I explore a lot. I know my way around. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have offered to help you find the gold.”

  Kitty was startled to hear what sounded like anger in his voice, and lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Obviously, he did not like probing questions about himself, but perhaps his resentment was a good thing. It quelled some of what she was feeling, so maybe the answer to tension…desire…would be to provoke the cold side of his nature that seemed to close any doors of intimacy between them.

  She pretended to be indignant. “Well, you don’t have to snap my head off. After all, if we’re to work together, we should try to get along.”

  “Then stop asking so many questions that have nothing to do with our work.”

  She noted he had pulled back from her, as though he did not like her pressed against him. Fine. She leaned forward, turning once more to make sure her horse was still plodding along behind them. He seemed to be much better, hardly favoring his injured leg at all. If they had to stay the night in the cave—if Sam actually knew where he was going—by morning she would be able to ride. Meanwhile, she would do as much sparring as necessary to keep that door closed between them. It was her only defense—against herself.

  “Here it is.”

  They rounded one last, huge boulder, and Kitty saw they were riding right into a gaping hole in the side of a mountain.

  He helped her down and then dismounted himself.

  Kitty hurried to investigate the cave.

  The opening was wide, and light poured in despite the storm clouds that continued to race ominously across the sky.

  “It is an Indian cave,” she cried, delighted to find clay jugs with dried vegetables and fruits stored inside. There was also water, blankets, and cooking utensils. “We could stay here for weeks if we had to.”

  “Well, we don’t have to,” Ryder said curtly. “I think we can rest a spell and be on our way. I noticed your horse isn’t as bad as I first thought, so as soon as it looks like the storm danger is past we’ll get out of here.”

  But Kitty was paying no attention, too engrossed in her surroundings. “Isn’t this wonderful? Why, I’ll bet Indians come here all the time. It’s like the way stations for the stagecoaches. They have their own place to rest and eat.”

  Ryder ignored her excitement and set about to make them a meal out of dried rabbit meat and tortillas.

  He also retrieved a jug of tulapai he had personally hidden where no other of his band would find it. Filling a chipped crockery mug, he held it out to Kitty, who had just declared she was dying of thirst.

  She took a sip and made a face. “It’s white water—what the Chiricahua I lived with call tulapai. I should have known by the smell.”

  “It’s good,” he said between swallows, trying not to smile. “Whatever it is.”

  Kitty liked the way it felt so warm in her stomach, calm and soothing. She took another sip, and the taste was not as bad.

  The sound of rain turned their gazes to the cave entrance. It was slow and cooling.

  Kitty walked out to stand right in it, reveling in the feel upon her face.

  “You’re going to get soaked,” Ryder said irritably.

  “I don’t care.” Her lips parted and she licked eagerly at the refreshing drops. “It’s been so hot, and this feels wonderful.”

  Ryder looked at her grudgingly. Her head was thrown back, hair wet and stringing down her back. He felt a tremor to see how her blouse stuck to her, nipples prominent beneath the damp clinging cotton. And it was maddening to watch as she licked at the raindrops with her tongue and made husky sounds of pleasure deep in her throat.

  “I don’t care how wet I get,” she declared. “And if the river isn’t too high when we start back, I think I’ll jump right in for a swim.”

  She looked at him and grinned, face glowing. “I’d forgotten how it feels to stand in the rain. And I used to swim all the time back home. There was a pond right near my house, and I’d ride my horse into it and then dive right in, and—”

  With a groan, Ryder crossed to her in swift strides, grabbed her, and crushed her against him.

  One hand on the back of her head, he held her in a vise-like grip as his mouth claimed hers.

  She tried to wrench away. “No…don’t…”

  But then he felt her resistance wither as her lips yielded to his assault, parting to allow his tongue entry.

  As he began to unbutton her blouse with deft, eager fingers, his
hand at the back of her head moved to cup her chin, then trailed downward to make tiny circling patterns in the sweet hollows of her throat.

  Hot tingles ignited throughout her body, and Kitty unconsciously pressed closer, surrendering herself to his sweet torture. She felt consumed by the ravishing hunger of his tongue and responded with a thirst of her own.

  Ryder began to trail his lips downward, wanting to lick and taste all of her, inch by inch. Her hands moved to clutch his hair, twining her fingers in it, as she moaned and quaked beneath his touch. It was her own primal need, awakening and demanding to be fed.

  Slowly, for he wanted to savor and enjoy, he pulled her yet deeper into the raging current of passion, the heated throbbing of her body urging him on.

  With her blouse open, parted, their gazes locked as he cupped her breasts ever so gently, then harshly, almost painfully, in his possession of her as she sighed, smiling to urge him to continue.

  “I want you.” He rolled her nipples between thumb and forefinger, liking how they turned hard beneath his touch while she pushed herself against him, wanting more. “I want you, but I’ll stop if you tell me to. I didn’t bring you here to seduce you, Kitty, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want you.”

  Her fingers moved from his hair to dance down his neck, across his shoulders, and finally down his back to clutch his buttocks tightly.

  “And I want you,” she whispered. “I may regret it later, but right now I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my whole life”

  Ryder felt as though his loins were on fire as he lowered his face to her breasts. He assaulted one taut nipple between his teeth to nibble deliciously, and Kitty twisted and writhed in joyful anguish, mesmerized by the fervid moment.

  He released her long enough to unbuckle his holster and lay it aside, and she did the same with hers. Then, embracing her once more, he lowered her slowly to the ground.

  Kitty felt his hardness and knew she was not imagining anything this time. Long and hard, bulging in his trousers, it pressed against her belly.

  She was stretched across him, and he pulled her upward, lifting her so that her breasts were above his face.

  Sweetly, savagely, he assaulted each in turn, taking the nipple in his teeth, then rolling it with his tongue before taking as much as he could into his mouth.

  She was on fire, trembling from head to toe, and he felt it…knew she wanted him…but had to be sure. “Tell me,” he commanded, releasing her breast and rolling her to her side. “Tell me you want me, Kitty.”

  He was shoving up her skirt to yank down her undergarments. Her legs seemed to have a will of their own as they eagerly spread for him. He touched between, caressing the center of her desire.

  “I…I do want you…” she said in a voice she did not recognize as her own. “So much, Sam…so much.”

  Sam.

  The alien name spoken, reminding him of his deception, was like a dash of cold water. For an instant, he hesitated, but then quickly thrust his fingers inside her. She closed about him, and he throbbed with a powerful urgency.

  “I’ll be gentle,” he promised in a ragged, fevered whisper as he positioned her on her back. “If you’ve never been with a man, it hurts, and—”

  “Never,” she all but shouted. “I’ve never been with a man, Sam…never wanted to be …till now…till you…”

  Quickly he peeled off his clothing, then straddled her, and she opened herself to him, hips arching to maneuver herself closer. He mounted, eagerness hot and tense, charging from head to toe as he guided himself inside her.

  He endeavored to be gentle, but she was clutching his back, nails cutting into his flesh as she urged him on.

  Knowing that she matched his ardor, he pushed deeper, cradling her buttocks in his hands as he worked to put all of himself inside her.

  She gasped, and he saw how her face winced with the pain of violation, but never did she pull back, even a little. Instead, she clutched harder, hips undulating and finally slamming against him to meet his every thrust. Her expression of rapture, the sight of her kiss-swollen nipples and heaving breasts incited him all the more, and it was all he could do to keep from ripping into her with hard, jabbing thrusts to take himself to glory. But he maintained control, working rhythmically, not wanting her to hurt any more than she had to and determined that she would know the ultimate joy.

  He felt the shuddering deep within her and knew her release was coming. Pumping his hips harder, he felt his own crescendo building.

  She made soft, whimpering sounds that grew louder with each propelling thrust he made into her.

  Her legs went wider, then closed to lock about him as her heels dug into him. She was attached, clinging, and they became one, rocking in rhythm, each lost in the magic of their passion…their lust…their ultimate climb to the pinnacle of fulfillment.

  They clung to each other…quietly, reverently.

  Ryder was the first to speak, tone worried. “Did I hurt you very much?”

  She managed a choky little laugh. “Your beard did.” She rubbed at her cheeks.

  Ryder saw the redness on her face, as well as her breasts. His whiskers had not been kind to the delicate flesh.

  “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, feeling bad because there was nothing he could do about it. If he were to shave, she might recognize him, and he could take no chances, not when they had come so far.

  It had stopped raining.

  Ryder rolled to lie beside her, his arm about her as he cradled her head against his shoulder.

  Turning to gaze toward the strange light that fell across the cave entrance, he said, almost wistfully, “I’ve always loved twilight in this part of the country. It doesn’t last long, just a few magic minutes when the world seems to turn purple and lavender, as the light bleeds over everything before melting to darkness.

  “Beautiful,” he said, turning to brush his lips across her forehead. “Like you.”

  Kitty snuggled yet closer to him, weariness creeping over her. “At least there was no storm. Just rain. And now it’s gone. We can start back early in the morning. I’d like to get the map, buy our supplies, and get started.

  “Do you think my horse will be all right to ride by then?” She raised to look at him, wanting to see his dear and handsome face so near.

  His eyes were closed.

  His breathing was even.

  She knew he slept, and she smiled.

  A cool breeze blew over them. Kitty shivered and sat up to button her blouse and pull her skirt down over her bare legs.

  She looked at Sam. He was completely naked and would be cold, but she did not want to awaken him.

  She had spotted some woven Indian blankets stacked to one side and scrambled up to get one. The warmth would be welcome for both of them against the night chill.

  She began to spread it over him, desire washing over her to gaze upon his broad chest, strong shoulders and arms, and…

  With a warm flush, her gaze moved downward—

  A gasp ripped through her.

  Surely her eyes deceived her.

  Quickly she moved closer for better scrutiny, pulse racing and heart thundering.

  It had to be a play of light, she told herself, or a blemish. It could not be…

  But it was.

  On his lower abdomen was a scar, like a puncture wound…in the shape of a star and identical to the one she remembered seeing on Whitebear when she had bathed him.

  Kitty began to shake from head to toe, and she moved back from him lest she wake him, and, dear Lord, she did not want him awake now.

  She leaned into his face. It was hard to tell what he really looked like with a beard covering it, but now that she was looking for resemblance, she found it easily.

  The dark hair. Dark eyes. The lines, muscles, of his body. The very shape of him.

  Sam Bodine, she realized with fury roiling like water boiling in a kettle, was actually Whitebear.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ryder
awoke to find Kitty straddling him and holding a gun in his face.

  “What the—”

  He lifted his head but lowered it quickly as she pushed the gun barrel right under his nose.

  “Make a move, and so help me, I will blow you away,” she said with jaw set, teeth clenched.

  He knew at once she was not playing some kind of game. Her eyes were so hot with anger he could feel the heat.

  He swallowed hard. “Kitty, what the hell is going on?”

  “You tell me—Whitebear.”

  He sucked in his breath and let it out in a whoosh. “How did you find out?”

  “Did you really think I wouldn’t? Oh, you were good, all right. The beard had me fooled.”

  He kept his eye on her trigger finger and hoped she wasn’t cold-blooded enough to actually shoot. “Kitty, I was going to tell you eventually.”

  She sneered. “Sure you were—after you had all the gold for yourself.”

  “I wasn’t going to take more than half, which is my share.”

  “Oh, of course. That’s why you were trying to find me in the first place, right? When you and the rest of those savages attacked the stagecoach looking for me, you only wanted to ask if you could help me look for the gold so we could share it.

  “Do you take me for a complete fool?” Her voice rose as she waved the gun, then stuck it under his nose again.

  “Kitty, be careful. It could go off.”

  “Which is what I want it to do, you arrogant bastard. You seduced me thinking that once we made love I’d give you anything you wanted. Of all the conceit—”

  He dared to remind her, “I didn’t seduce you, and you know it. You wanted it as much as I did. Besides, we had already made a deal before it happened.”

  “But all along it’s what you were leading up to.” Humiliation made her hand tremble. “I ought to blow your lying head off here and now.”

  His arms were to his sides, and he started to raise one in a pleading gesture, but she warned, “Don’t try anything. I swear I’ll shoot you. Damn it, when I think how you deceived me…”

  “Put the gun down,” he coaxed. “And let’s talk. I can explain everything.”