by B. J Daniels
RAFAEL VALE PICKED up the knife and went to work on his sunny-side-up eggs. Across the table, his cousin Angel watched with disgust.
“You have a problem?” Rafael demanded.
Angel shook his head and looked away.
Diving into his breakfast, Rafael talked while he ate. “You really need to eat something. We still have a long way to go.” They’d driven all night, taking turns at the wheel. Rafael hadn’t realized what a big country this was. Driving from Florida to Montana was going to take at least another day of solid driving.
“My stomach’s bothering me.”
Rafael laughed. “You’re just spoiled by your mother’s cooking. Wait until you get married. You’ll have to get used to your wife’s cooking.”
Angel mugged a face. “I’m never getting married, then.”
His cousin was six years younger, a mama’s boy. No woman would be good enough for his mother.
Rafael thought of his so-called wife. His mother had urged him to forget Mariah. “She has shamed us enough. A woman like that...” His mother didn’t understand that his honor was at stake. Also Mariah had denied him what was his on their wedding night. He would have her. He would hurt her in ways he hadn’t even imagined yet. That made him smile.
“I’m thinking I should go back. I could catch a flight or even a bus—”
“You’re not going anywhere but Montana with me so forget going back. You’ll be eating your mother’s cooking soon enough.”
Rafael finished his breakfast and shoved the plate away. “We need to pick up a few things. I saw a store across the street that should have everything we need.”
Angel looked worried as he glanced past him to the store. “A hardware store?”
“What did you think I was going to buy? Flowers for her?”
Angel hadn’t wanted to come along. He was timid, but he was family. When the time came, he would do whatever Rafael told him to do and he would keep his mouth shut about it.
“Come on. I want this finished by tomorrow night.” He rose, tossed some money on the table and headed for the door.
Across the street, he loaded the items he would need into the cart. Duct tape, rope, a tarp and a large container of bleach.
Angel looked a little sick to his stomach as they walked out to the van he’d rented. “Are you sure about this?” he asked as they climbed in.
Rafael laughed. “She’s my wife.” The laugh died on his lips as he thought of Mariah and what he’d suffered at her hands. She would pay for the rest of her life. He just hoped her life wasn’t cut too short. Sometimes he lost his temper...
Just the thought of what he would do with her made him hard as he started the van’s engine and drove north toward Gilt Edge, Montana.
* * *
FLINT PULLED TO the curb to wait. Maggie still had a client in her chair. He glanced at his watch and thought about her moving in with him. Was it too soon? Had he only asked because he was scared that Celeste was crazy enough to hurt her? Was he still letting Celeste run his life?
The door of the salon opened and he looked up expectantly. Betty Arnold came out and waved at him before driving away. A minute later, Tori Clark came out with the ends of her blond hair dyed green. He didn’t get the weird hair colors, which his sister would have told him meant he was starting to sound like their father. He groaned at the thought.
Tori didn’t see him. She was looking in the direction of the retreating Betty Arnold and smiling as she began to quickly text.
Flint watched, frowning as Tori hurried down the street. She was practically skipping in her joy. Seeing that only Maggie and Daisy were left inside the shop, he got out and went in.
Maggie looked surprised to see him, at first smiling until she saw his expression. “What’s wrong?”
“I need to see your appointment book.”
“All right.” Maggie shot Daisy a look and shrugged.
“How long has Tori Clark been a client?” he asked as she picked up the book on the counter by the door and handed it to him.
“Not long,” she said. “Flint, what is this about?”
“I’m not sure. Just a theory.” He flipped through the appointment book, pulled out his notebook and pen, and began jotting down when Tori had come in—and who had been in Daisy’s adjacent chair at the time. Almost at once he saw a pattern.
Then he found a discrepancy—and just when he thought his theory wasn’t going to pan out. Then, another name leaped out at him. Wendy Westbrook. He looked across the page to see who was in Daisy’s chair on the day Wendy had an appointment with Maggie.
“This book,” he said to Maggie as he glanced to the back of the shop to see the sight angle. “It sits out here all the time?”
She nodded. “What are you getting at?”
When Maggie and Daisy were working, they often couldn’t see the counter—and the appointment book.
“If someone had been in the waiting area, they could have had access to the book without your noticing,” he said. “They could have known who was coming in on a regular basis and when.”
Maggie frowned. “Why would they care?”
He glanced out the front window. “If I’m right... I’m going to have to test out my theory.” Flint glanced over at her. “I just saw Betty Arnold leaving. Did she mention where she might be going tonight or some other night?”
Maggie and Daisy exchanged a look.
“She said she and Jack were going to take the dinner train tonight with friends. The Charlie Russell Chew Choo.” Daisy rolled her eyes. “But I’ve heard that the prime rib is really good.”
The three-and-a-half-hour trip followed the route of the Chicago, Milwaukee, St. Paul and Pacific Railroad for fifty-six miles over breathtaking trestles and one half-mile-long tunnel, and it included dinner. Plenty of time for some local teens to break into a person’s house while they were gone. If he was right, his teenage burglars would be hitting the Arnolds’ tonight.
“I’m going to have to work tonight,” Flint said, hoping this was the breakthrough they needed. “Are you going to be all right?” he asked Maggie.
“I’ll be fine. I have a lot of packing to do and I’ll get more done without you around.” She smiled. He loved her smiles.
Stepping up to her, he cupped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her to him for a kiss. “I’ll come by after I’m done.”
“Be careful.”
“Always.”
* * *
WHEN DARBY RETURNED, Mariah was sitting in the kitchen visiting with Billie Dee. The cook grabbed a large butcher knife and turned in his direction as he walked in.
“I see you told Billie Dee,” Darby said.
Mariah nodded. “I just sent Hawk and Cyrus home. Rafael isn’t stupid enough to strike during the day.” She felt safe in the kitchen with Billie Dee and she’d needed the female company. Otherwise, when she was feeling like this, she usually got on her bike and rode. But she’d promised Darby that she would stay put.
“Did you talk to your brother?” she asked as he joined her at the kitchen table. He reached over and took her hand, smiling reassuringly at her.
“Flint is going to see if Rafael filed the paperwork. We’ll know whether or not you’re legally married soon.”
“Like that is going to make a difference to Rafael,” Mariah said, lowering her voice even though she’d told Billie Dee everything. “You don’t know Rafael. He’s—”
“I know he planned to rape you on your wedding night. That tells me everything I need to know,” Darby said.
“He will bring help. You don’t know the extremes he went to just to get me to the altar. He plans to win this fight, as well.”
“He’s never come up against a Montana cowboy before.”
“He’s never even seen one befor
e. But I’m serious. Rafael is dangerous. He has no honor. He—”
“He doesn’t fight fair.”
Mariah smiled sadly. “No. Whatever he has planned—”
“Flint has a deputy watching the place at night.” He explained about the front light. “Even if Rafael gets past the deputy, he’ll have to get past me to take you. If he does anything, he’ll be arrested.”
She nodded but wasn’t convinced. She knew that nothing would stop Rafael. She still thought it would be better if they both ran, but Rafael would hurt anyone they left behind. She looked over at Billie Dee and thought of Darby’s sister, Lillie. She couldn’t do that to them. Darby was right. They had to stay and fight.
His cell phone rang. “It’s Flint,” he said, getting up and heading upstairs to the apartment.
Mariah said goodbye to Billie Dee and followed him. When she entered the apartment, she saw that Flint seemed to be doing most of the talking. When Darby finally disconnected, she saw his expression.
“According to Flint, Rafael never filed the papers. You aren’t legally married. Except under Roma law,” he added before she could.
She nodded, surprised how much this news pleased her. But under Roma law... She thought of her grandmother.
Keep the old ways. Promise me you will live by the culture we have fought so hard to keep for you, her grandmother had said on her deathbed.
She’d promised.
Now she touched the bracelet and shivered. Rafael was not what her grandmother would have ever wanted for her. If the woman had still been alive... Instead, her side of the family was mostly gone. Even her uncle wouldn’t have wanted this.
Anyway, she’d already broken so many Roma laws by continuing her education, getting a job, refusing the man she was supposed to marry.
She looked at Darby. “I need you to do something for me. We have so little time before Rafael gets here. I would have only one regret in life if things don’t go as we hope.”
He met her gaze. “Name it. If I can give it to you...”
She stepped toward him. Oh, he was the only one who could. “Make love to me.”
He met her gaze with a questioning one of his own. “Are you sure?” She’d told him what a sin it was in her culture.
She nodded. “I have tried to keep my promise to my grandmother in this, but I no longer can. If Rafael gets his hands on me...” She put her finger to Darby’s lips as he started to argue that he wouldn’t let that happen. “I can take whatever happens as long as I have known a tender man’s touch.”
He pulled her to him and kissed her softly on the mouth. Drawing back, he met her gaze again. “I want you, Mariah. I have from the first moment I saw you. But—”
She touched his lips again and then pulled away to go to the door and lock it.
* * *
MARIAH TURNED AND looked back at him with such longing that he felt fire race along his veins. He could see that her mind was made up. He wanted her more than his next breath, but he also remembered what she’d told him.
If Rafael found out, he wouldn’t just rape her if he got his hands on her. He’d kill her.
“Mariah—”
She stepped up to him and slowly began to unbutton her blouse. He stopped her and, moving her fingers away, freed the remaining buttons.
Smoothing back the fabric, he brushed his fingers across the warm skin at her waist, making her shiver. Slowly he slipped the blouse off her shoulders. It fluttered to the floor. His hands cupped her strong shoulders and, hooking onto the straps of her bra, slid them down her arms.
Under the thin lace of her bra, her nipples hardened. He pulled down one bra cup to free her breast and bent his head to it. His tongue flicked over the hard nub. He heard her moan. As he sucked the nipple into his mouth, she arched against him.
Pulling her into his arms, he carried her over to the bed and gently lay down next to her. He couldn’t wait to have her naked in his arms. But he knew he had to take this slow. He would be the tender, gentle touch she needed.
Unbuttoning her jeans, he slipped his hand under the waistband and found her center. She was wet and warm. He looked into her face. Her eyes were bright with need.
She smiled up at him and then lifted her head to kiss him. He wanted desperately to lose himself in her, but he would take it slow. Given what this could cost her—cost them both—he wasn’t about to rush it.
* * *
MARIAH HAD NEVER known such pleasure. What Darby did to her, with his mouth, his tongue, his fingers and finally his entire body... She’d thought that her heart would stop, it was beating so hard. She’d gasped, her breathing ragged, as he’d filled her and stopped.
“Please. Don’t. Stop,” she’d pleaded, her fingers digging into his back. If he stopped, she thought she would die.
He began to move slowly. She’d always heard that there would be pain. She felt only pleasure as he moved with sure strokes, as he caressed her breasts, kissed her and finally took her to such heights that she cried out again and again—and finally she heard his own groan as he stroked even deeper in her. He shuddered and settled on her for a moment. His gaze met hers. She smiled up at him through a haze of pleasure before he rolled off, drawing her to him as he did.
They lay, both spent. The cool air coming through the window rippled over her bare skin to dry the perspiration. She felt sated. Fulfilled. At peace. She’d waited all these years, fearing her first time...and with good reason given who she was to marry.
Darby pulled her closer. She laid her head on his chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart. As her breathing slowed, her heartbeat did, as well. She waited to feel guilty. Or at least scared. What they’d just done...
But she couldn’t feel either right now. She had wanted this too deeply. She leaned back a little to look into the cowboy’s face.
He smiled. “You all right?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been better.” She touched the bracelet at her wrist, her eyes welling with tears. “Years ago, my grandmother read my fortune. She said I would have a long life, would fall in love with only one man and spend my life with him. When my uncle agreed to my marriage to Rafael...”
Darby pulled her to him. “You knew it was wrong so you fought it and fate brought you here, to me.”
She looked into his beautiful eyes and burrowed deeper against him.
“This was meant to be,” he said softly. His smile broadened but she saw worry in his gray eyes. What they’d just done could get them both killed, and by now Rafael would be on his way with blood in his eye.
She touched the pendant, warm between her breasts. They would need all the luck they could get.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“I NEED TO know what you’re planning,” Angel said as they neared the small Western town of Gilt Edge.
“I’m planning on taking my wife home.” He could feel his cousin’s gaze on him. He tried to keep his face straight, but figured Angel knew he was lying.
“I don’t want any trouble.”
“Trouble.” Rafael scoffed at that. “Why would there be trouble?”
“Because she doesn’t want to go back.”
“Are you saying the woman doesn’t want to be married to me?”
Angel seemed to flinch at the edge in his voice. “She won’t come without a fight.”
“You don’t know that.”
“You also said that there was a cowboy where she was working who’d helped her get away from the private investigator.”
“What are you getting at?”
“She won’t be alone.”
Rafael gritted his teeth. “She’d better be alone,” he said under his breath. “The man is her boss. Once he realizes that she is married to me...” He shrugged. “No one is stupid enough to come between a Ro
ma man and his wife.”
Angel looked skeptical. “This cowboy isn’t one of us. He might not give a damn about Roma law.”
Rafael shot his cousin a look. Angel had never been this argumentative. He was regretting forcing him to come along. He’d asked some of his other cousins, but they’d grown tired of his wife problems.
We got her to the altar. If you can’t handle her, then that is your problem, his cousin Damien had told him.
“Stop borrowing trouble. I’ll talk to her. I’ll ask her to come back. I’m sure by now she’s ready to come to her senses.”
Angel said nothing, merely turned to look out the side window. His silence was clear enough. No one believed Mariah was coming back to him willingly.
* * *
WHEN THE THUNDERSTORM hit that evening, Flint thought about calling off the stakeout. He was worried about Darby and Mariah, especially since the only deputy on duty tonight in the area was Harp.The other two deputies had already been called to a far corner of the county on a truck rollover. So it would have to be Harp watching the saloon tonight until Flint was free.
He had to stop these teens from burglarizing any more houses and if his hunch was right... He spoke into his headset. “See anything?” he asked into it.
“Nothing,” his undersheriff answered.
They’d been staking out the Arnold house since it had gotten dark—before the storm had hit. Now it was pitch-black out with pouring rain punctuated by blinding flashes of lightning and deafening bursts of thunder. The girls weren’t going to come out into a storm like this. Not to break into a house for some items they didn’t need or want. Even for some bullying initiation, if that’s what this was about.
He checked the time. The Arnolds would be coming home from their dinner train trip in an hour or so. How much longer was he going to stay out here in the storm? And worse, keep Mark out here too?
Flint just hoped he and Mark hadn’t been spotted earlier. He’d taken position behind the tall wooden fence that ran across the side of the yard. Mark had climbed a tree on the other side of the house.
If the teens didn’t hit this house soon...then he’d have to admit that he was wrong. But he’d been so sure when he’d seen Tori Clark come out of Maggie’s beauty shop behind Betty Arnold. Once he’d seen the appointment book...
