California Caress

by Rebecca Sinclair

  “It was Charles. I recognized his henchman back in Thirsty Gulch. Tubbs was the one who started the fire in your cabin.” His fingertip brushed her wounded shoulder. “He also did this.”

  Her cheeks drained of color as a shudder trembled across her shoulder. “He was going to kill you, Drake,” she said, her voice flat. “He said so. He said he took me so you’d follow him. I—” she averted her suddenly moist gaze to the rain-drenched window, “I told him he was wrong. I told him you wouldn’t come, that you didn’t care enough to try and find me.”

  “Come here.” Drake pulled her up hard against his chest and buried his face in her hair. The gentle rush of his breath whispered in her ear.

  The guilt of her admission ate at her. She hadn’t believed he would come for her, yet he had. He’d risked his life tracking them down, and she’d just repaid him by slapping him in the face with her doubts.

  Hope shivered as she tried to pull away. Drake refused to let her go as his lips nuzzled her ear. All sense of fear and humiliation vanished like steam under the feel of his lips brushing against her flesh.

  “Let me go, Drake,” she argued weakly, trying to twist from his grasp again. His hold tightened and she became excruciatingly aware of every virile inch that pressed so intimately against her. “Let me go. There’s something I have to do.”

  “Whatever it is, it can wait,” he murmured huskily as he lowered his head to taste the delicate line of her jaw. Her skin tasted of rainwater and mud.

  A tremor that had nothing to do with the fear coursed through her veins. “No,” she replied, her voice a hoarse, ragged breath, “it can’t. I don’t know about you, but I’m soaking wet and freezing. I want dry clothes and a fire.”

  “What do you think I’m trying to build here?" He countered teasingly, as his mouth worked tiny kisses up the line of her neck, over her jaw. Cupping her cheeks, he pulled her face up to his. With the tip of his thumb he wiped away the tears that trailed down her cheeks unchecked. “I need you, Hope, even more than I realized. The whole time I was searching for you, I feared I would never see you again. Now that I’ve found you, I don’t want to let you go. I want to take you in my arms and love you the way you were meant to be loved.” His eyes darkened until they glistened like emeralds in the lamplight. “Let me, Hope. Let me love you.”

  Drake didn’t wait for an answer as his mouth sought its own response, a response Hope was helpless to deny. With each tantalizing stroke of his tongue, she lost a little more of her rapidly dwindling self-control.

  She needed this man, she realized suddenly. She needed to feel his tender lovemaking wipe away all the bitter memories this night had held. By the time his tongue had touched the honeyed sweetness of her own, she no longer had the power to deny their hungry bodies the release both so eagerly craved.

  Pushing all doubts aside, she surrendered to the urgency of his kiss. The sheer intensity of desire that coursed through her blood still frightened her, but the sweetness of Drake’s skilled, urgent caresses quickly blotted out her fear. “Ah, Hope.” He whispered huskily against her lips. His breath was a hot caress against her moist flesh as she tangled her fingers in the damp thickness of his hair. “My sweet, beautiful, Hope. Tell me you need me as much as I need you. Tell me, sunshine.”

  “Yes,” she sighed, straining into the hard promise of his body. She had no control over the passionate fire raging through her blood, over the wild beating of her heart. Her thick lashes flickered shut as she allowed Drake to lower her to the floor. “Ooohhh, yeessss....”

  “What are you doing?” she asked sleepily. Rain splattered noisily against the window and a rumble of thunder echoed in the distance. With a contented sigh, she smoothed the wrinkles from the bedroll Drake had placed over her naked body.

  “Your wish is my command, m’lady,” he replied as he knelt next to the cold, empty hearth and began piling it high with sticks and twigs. From over his shoulder, he sent her his most charming smile. “I’m building you a fire.”

  Drake had put on his trousers to fetch the wood. Hope pushed up on one elbow and watched him, fascinated by the way the rain glistened against his bare torso, aroused by the way the snug denim stretched over his lean hips. His damp hair shimmered in the pale glow of moonlight.

  “Isn’t it a little late for that, gunslinger?” she asked, a teasing lilt to her voice. Her smile came easily now that she basked in the sweet afterglow of their lovemaking.

  “It’s never too late.” Drake shot her a glance of pure devilry as he touched the match to the wood. The sticks caught and the small room was quickly filled with flickering orange shadows. Still holding Hope’s gaze, he raised the burning match and blew it out. A waft of smoke curled in the air around his head as he tossed the match aside. “Come here, wench.”

  “Wench, is it now?” Hope giggled. Clutching the blanket to her chest, she wiggled out of his reach. “Wherever did you pick up these words? Hasn’t anyone ever told you that gamblers and rogues don’t talk that way?”

  “I’m not a rogue.” One golden brow rose in mock offense as he tossed a log into the fire then lurched for her. He pinned her squirming body beneath his. “Gambler? Unquestionable. Rogue? Not a chance.”

  His mouth swooped down to steal a fleeting kiss. She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer. The golden curls at his sun-kissed nape were damp as they tickled her bare forearms.

  “You are a rogue,” she murmured against his lips, her eyelids heavy with satiation. “And a conceited one at that. Now get under this blanket before you catch a chill.”

  With a playful shove, Hope pushed Drake off her. He slipped beneath the blanket when she lifted it invitingly.

  “Hmmm, you’re right, this is much better.” He sighed with contentment as he scooped her to his side.

  Hope nestled her head on the hard pillow of his shoulder. His heart beat a rhythmic tempo in her ear as the fire warmed her cheek and brow. “Where did you learn those things, Drake?” she asked, her fingers teased the golden pelt of hair on his chest.

  “What things?”

  The memory of the fight flashed through her mind, as did the lock of hair he’d stolen from her on that day. “Oh, I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Ladies fair, jousting knights, tokens, wenches—those sort of things. Not exactly the kind of stuff you expect to find in your average gunslinger’s repertoire.”

  A chuckle rippled deep in the back of his throat. “I’m not your average gunslinger, sunshine.”

  Hope slapped his chest playfully. She placed her hands on his chest, one atop the other, cushioning her chin on her knuckles as she glanced up at him through hooded lashes. Each exhalation of his breath fanned her face, set her skin alive with liquid fire. “That I’d already guessed! But you still haven’t answered my question. Why won’t you tell me about yourself? I know you had a life before you came to California. You mentioned your brother and his wife, the problems there, and you said something about Boston. But you didn’t give details. Why not?”

  “Probably for the same reason you refuse to talk about your family. Some things aren’t worth rehashing.”

  Hope stiffened. She tried to pull away, but the arm encircling her shoulders wouldn’t let her. “That’s different,” she replied flatly, firmly squelching her tumultuous emotions. “You already know about my family. I don’t know anything about yours.”

  “Not much to tell,” he shrugged. “The ones I cared about are dead. The ones I don’t give a damn about, aren’t. Isn’t that the way life usually works?”

  “Charles and Angelique,” Hope muttered miserably. Suddenly, she was sorry she’d broached the subject. Already, she could feel Drake pulling away from her. Maybe not physically, but mentally he was withdrawing, throwing up his all-too-familiar wall of defense. “Look, if you’d rather not talk about—“

  “What do you want to know, Hope?” he asked, his voice as devoid of sincerity as his suddenly leery gaze.

  “Whatever you want to tell
me.”

  Drake was quiet for so long that, at first, she thought he’d fallen asleep. The rise and fall of his chest beneath her palms was slow and even. Long golden lashes flickered against his tanned cheek.

  “My grandfather was a champion of medieval history,” he said finally, his emotionless voice and his words taking her by surprise. “He had an entire library of books devoted to the subject, as well as an authentic suit of armor gracing the main hall, and hand-worked tapestries on the wall. He was also a master with a lute. In the summer, to celebrate my birthday, he would stage a miniature jousting match on our front lawn. I think it’d be impossible to be reared in a house with a fanatic like Thomas Frazier and not have some of his interests rub off.”

  “You lived with your grandparents, then?" She frowned. “Hmmm. What about your parents? Did they live there, too?”

  “They died when Chuck and I were small. I barely remember them. As for my grandmother, well, I never knew her at all. She died when my mother was heavy with me. I heard she was a good woman, though. Well liked, well respected.”

  Hope averted her gaze to the fire. A pang of guilt pricked at her heart as she remembered her accusation that a man like Drake Frazier had never known what it was like to lose someone he loved. He had loved, and he had lost. Perhaps they were not so different after all.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered softly. “I didn’t know.” She ran her fingers lightly over the stubble shadowing his jaw. Gently, his fingers wrapped around her wrist, drawing her arm up until the inside of her forearm brushed against his cheek.

  “Nothing to be sorry about.” He turned his face to the side and planted a kiss on the pulse that throbbed in her wrist. “When I think about it, I’d have to say that I’m glad my parents died when they did. This way, they were spared the heartbreak of seeing the monster their son became.”

  Hope’s fingers twisted his hair as she turned his head forcefully toward her. “Open your eyes and look at me, gunslinger.” The thick fringe of golden lashes flickered up and she was instantly captured by his sea-green gaze. Hope thought that she would gladly drown in those haunting pools. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Drake. You’re not so bad.”

  A rush of air left his nostrils. It might have been a derisive chuckle. Then again, it might not. “I wasn’t referring to myself, sunshine. I was talking about Charles.”

  “You really hate him, don’t you?”

  “Yeah,” he replied wearily, “I hate him. Obviously, the feeling is mutual. Tubbs is proof enough of that.”

  When Drake didn’t elaborate further, Hope deemed it wise not to push the subject. Instead, she changed it. Slipping her arm from his hand she asked, “Why’d you come to California? I mean, Thirsty Gulch seems like a long way to go just to get away from your brother.”

  “Gold,” he answered simply. Although his eyelids had snapped shut again, one light eyebrow was cocked high in his sun-kissed brow. “What brought you?”

  “Gold.” She lapsed into thoughtful silence as her gaze strayed to the raindrops lapping at the window. A shiver touched her shoulders, and Drake’s arm instinctively pulled her closer. Sighing, she let her gaze rove his profile. “Drake? Drake. Don’t you dare fall asleep on me now. I have a question to ask you. Wake up, damn it.”

  “Hmmm?” he murmured, stifling a yawn.

  “You never said where we’re heading,” she said, shaking his shoulder before he could fall asleep again. “Tell me. I want to know where you’re taking me.”

  “Boston,” he answered, his voice slurred with exhaustion. “We’re going to Boston.”

  Her eyes widened in alarm. “Boston!? I don’t want to go to Boston! I want to go to Virginia.” She gave his shoulder another shake. “Did you hear me, Frazier? I said I want to go to Virginia. I want to go home.”

  “The horses probably heard you, Hope.” He heaved a heavy sigh and slowly pried his eyelids open. “Aren’t you the one who insisted on returning to the gold mines? What happened? You seemed pretty determined.”

  “That was weeks ago, and I changed my mind. I want to go home.”

  “Fine,” he muttered with a shake of his head. “But it’ll have to wait. I have business to take care of in Boston first. I promise, when everything’s been taken care of there, I’ll take you wherever you want to go. Virginia, London, hell, I’ll even take you to Russia if you want.”

  “I don’t want to go to Russia,” she replied absently, as her thumb grazed the prickly softness of his jaw. “Drake, now that Tubbs is dead, what are you going to do about Charles?” she asked cautiously. Her hand slipped down his neck, over the throbbing hollow in his throat, and down to the firm pillow of his chest. She tugged at a few wispy chest hairs to keep him awake.

  Drake swatted her hand away. His green eyes narrowed as he looked at her. He opened his mouth to say something, then quickly snapped it shut again. Frowning, he took a deep breath, pursed his lips, and said finally, “That depends on you.”

  “Me? Why? I haven’t got anything to do with this.”

  “It’s a long, complicated story, sunshine,” he sighed, raking back the golden curls falling over his brow. He’d been hoping she would simply agree to help, no matter what the terms. He should have known Hope Bennett’s intense curiosity would never allow that.

  Hope squinted into the flickering shadows, lingering on his tired profile. She wavered between the urge to reach out and stroke that sharp cheek, and the need to know as much about this man as he was willing to confide. In the end, the latter won out. “We’ve got all night. God knows, I’m not going anywhere.”

  Drake nodded. His eyes clouded with thought as he averted his gaze to the fire. “You know, there was a time not too long ago when the only thing that kept me going from one mining town to the next was knowing that, one day, I’d get back everything that was rightfully mine. At the time, I wasn’t sure how I’d go about it. California gave me the answer.”

  She gave in to the temptation in her fingers and reached out to caress that hardened cheek. When Drake seemed not to notice the contact, she let her hand drop back to his chest. “I don’t know, it seems to me like a long way to go for revenge.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe, but Boston was too close. I was too well known, and everyone for miles knew how my grandfather had overlooked me in his will, leaving everything to Chuck. So I left. I didn’t know where I’d end up and I didn’t care.” His voice thickened with bitter memories. “As long as I had a bottle in front of me, I was happy. After six months, ten gunfights, and innumerable hangovers, I realized that about the only thing constant inebriation was going to get me was an early grave. It damn well wasn’t going to get my business back. I’d worked my way to somewhere in Ohio, I think, when I started hearing rumors about gold. In one of my more lucid moments I thought, ‘What the hell, California would be as good a place to pick up my life as any.’ At least I still had enough sense to know I couldn’t be worse off than I already was.”

  Hope scowled. “So you traipsed all the way across the country for gold, but had no intention of staking a claim? I don’t see how you thought that would win your business back.”

  “I planned to work the mines,” he said, placing his warm palm over hers. She could feel his heart drumming steadily beneath her fingertips. “I went with the same aspirations every other young man traveling to the gold mines had. The lure of a quick fortune is heady stuff, sunshine. Not many men can resist it. My resolve got me to San Francisco, but the second my feet hit the dirt, I stumbled into the first saloon I found. It didn’t take long to find out I could make more money off the gambling prospectors than I could swinging a pick or swirling a pan.” He shifted, his eyes darkening thoughtfully as he met her gaze. “Think about it, Hope. I would have been damn foolish to trade in my deck of cards for a canvas tent and shovel. In one day, I could haul in twice what the miners dug from the ground, with only half the effort.” A crooked grin twisted his lips. “I like to think of it as utilizing the abilities I have, but si
nce you worked a pan yourself, I’m sure you think I took the lazy man’s way out.”

  “I didn’t say that,” she hedged. Sighing, she looked guiltily away. “I just don’t see where gambling and shooting could be less dangerous than mining the land.”

  “Gambling,” Drake corrected gently. “The only time I used my gun in California was to save my miserable hide.” The sly, lopsided grin twisted his lips. “That was one nice thing about my drunken trek from coast to coast. My reputation may have been exaggerated, but it was well earned. Most men with half a grain of sense were smart enough to steer clear. They’d meet me across a gaming table, maybe share a glass or two, but that was all they’d have to do with me.”

  “Sounds lonely,” Hope mused, tracing her fingertips down the thick pelt of curling hairs on his chest, over the rippling flesh of his tight stomach.

  The brazenly inquisitive fingers made Drake suck in his breath. He slipped his hand over hers and pulled her fingers to his mouth. His lips were warm, his breath hot against her flesh. The stubble of whiskers coating his jaw scratched her open palm. The sensation held its own form of sensual appeal. With a ragged sigh, he plopped the hand back on his chest. While even that simple touch was distracting, his reaction to the contact wasn’t nearly as dramatic as when she was boldly stroking flesh.

  “My solitude was self-imposed,” he continued, his voice a little more hoarse than before. “If anything, I enjoyed it. When I wasn’t playing cards, I had plenty of time to plot my revenge against Charles and Angelique. By then, two and a half years had slipped by. I suppose my desire for vengeance should have tapered off, mellowed, but it didn’t; it grew. Their betrayal ate at me night and day, like a festering wound that refused to heal. I couldn’t rest. Not until they’d paid for their deception, and I’d gotten back the company before my brother’s squandering ways ran it into the ground. Before I knew it, I not only had a plan, but I also had enough money to back it.”