by Connie Mason
“Who are you?” Pierce shot back, knowing full well what and who the banker was.
Willoughby drew himself up huffily. “I’m Samson Willoughby. Where is Zoey?”
“You mean Mrs. Delaney?”
Willoughby blanched. “Wha … what did you say?”
“I assume you were referring to my wife.”
“Your … your wife!” Willoughby sputtered. “What kind of game are you playing? Zoey has no husband.”
Pierce smiled without mirth. “She does now. We were married a week ago. I assume you knew she had a fiancé.”
“I knew, but … See here …” He searched for a name.
“Delaney, Pierce Delaney.”
“See here, Mr. Delaney, I’m sure you know who I am.”
“You’re the bas—er, banker who’s trying to steal my wife’s land.”
Willoughby shifted uncomfortably. “My bank holds the mortgage on this land.”
“So you say. As Zoey’s legal husband, I’ll attend to any problems pertaining to my wife’s land. If you’ve come to intimidate her, you’ll have to deal with me first. And I’m not as easily frightened as Zoey.”
Willoughby’s colorless eyes settled on Pierce, conveying his hatred and disbelief. “You’re lying. I don’t believe you and Zoey are married.”
“I don’t lie,” Pierce said softly. Had Willoughby known Pierce better, he would have realized that the softness was a prelude to violence. “Neither does Zoey.”
“Zoey said many things, most of which I chose to ignore.”
“You should have listened to her. Zoey and I are indeed married. Reverend Tolly came to the house over a week ago and married us. Ask him if you don’t believe me.”
“I believe I will speak with the reverend. Unfortunately he’s out of town right now. Tell Zoey I was here, and that I’ll be back.”
“I’ll tell my wife that you were here, but if I were you, I’d think twice about returning any time soon.”
“Are you threatening me, Delaney?”
“Call it what you like, Willoughby. If Zoey says you’re lying about the mortgage, I believe her.”
“Look here, Delaney,” Willoughby sputtered. “I’m a respected businessman. Maybe you can talk to respectable citizens like that where you come from, but not here. By the way,” he asked curiously, “where are you from?”
“Wyoming,” Pierce lied. “How much will it take to pay off the mortgage?”
Willoughby gave Pierce a disparaging look, unimpressed by the ill-fitting, patched clothing he wore. “More than you can afford.”
Pierce snorted with disgust. He had no intention of paying off a mortgage that could be fraudulent. “I suggest you ride out while you still can, Willoughby.”
Willoughby’s expression turned sly. “Did you know your wife and I have been … close? You didn’t think a hot little piece like Zoey would wait around for you to claim her, did you?”
Pierce fought to keep his clenched fists at his sides. “Whatever you’re implying doesn’t wash with me, Willoughby. If you utter one more word against my wife’s character, I’ll see you in hell. Understand?” His quiet words belied his raging temper.
Pierce didn’t need to raise his voice. His deceptive calm and threatening tone gave hint to his fury. So much so that Willoughby took a cautious step backward. “The only thing I understand is power and money,” Willoughby spouted. “Obviously you lack both of those commodities. I’ll leave, but if I find out you’re lying about your marriage to Zoey, you’d better be prepared to pay the consequences. I laid claim to Zoey long before her pa died, but the old man was stubborn. He didn’t think I was good enough for his daughter, but I showed him.” His smile turned nasty. “It’s dangerous to thwart Samson Willoughby.”
“Dangerous?” Pierce’s eyes narrowed. “How so?”
Willoughby smiled grimly. “Thwart me and find out,” he hissed as he mounted up and prepared to ride off. The arrival of Zoey and Cully delayed Willoughby’s departure. They were driving about thirty head of cows and steers ahead of them. It appeared as if their day had been successful.
Leaving the livestock to Cully, Zoey dismounted and walked briskly to join Pierce. Suddenly Pierce wished he had listened to her and spent the day resting.
He’d reached the end of his endurance, having overestimated his strength on his first full day out of bed. His wound ached something fierce and his legs felt rubbery, but he wasn’t about to display weakness to a conniving bastard like Willoughby.
“What’s going on here?” Zoey asked, looking from Pierce to Willoughby.
“Banker Willoughby came calling, darling,” Pierce said, casually placing his arm around Zoey and pulling her against him. When he placed a chaste kiss on her cheek, Zoey went along with him.
She returned his kiss, and turned to Willoughby.
“Mr. Willoughby doesn’t believe we’re husband and wife,” Pierce explained.
Zoey smiled sweetly at Willoughby. “I told you I was engaged, but you chose not to believe me.”
“Your father never said a word about an engagement in the weeks before he died. I approached him several times about a match between us. Never once did he mention a fiancé.”
“It was none of your business,” Zoey declared. “Why are you here?”
“I thought we could discuss … arrangements, but I see I’m too late for what I had in mind. I had intended to bring the preacher back with me to perform our marriage ceremony, but the good reverend is out of town.”
“You’re too late. I’m already married.”
“So you say. I refuse to believe it until I speak personally with Reverend Tolly. He’s expected back in a few days. I’ll bide my time till then, but if you’re lying to me …” His implied threat hung in the air like pungent autumn smoke.
“Would you care to see our license?” Pierce asked. “It won’t take a minute to get it.”
“I don’t want to see your damn license,” Willoughby spat, obviously rattled by this surprising turn of events. “You’ll be hearing from me.” Fuming in impotent rage, he mounted, dug his spurs into his horse’s flanks, and rode off.
“Good riddance,” Pierce said unevenly. He was beginning to give in to his exhaustion.
“Are you all right?” Zoey could feel his arm around her trembling.
“More than all right It felt good to tell that bastard where to go. But I fear we haven’t heard the last from him. Without proof showing otherwise, the mortgage he holds must be taken seriously. Come on, let’s go inside. I find myself in need of a chair.”
“You’ve overdone it!” Zoey charged. “I warned you about pushing yourself. You need more time to recuperate.” Placing her arm around his waist, she helped him inside to the nearest chair. “I’ll call Cully. He can help you up to bed.”
“No, I’ll be fine in a minute.” Pierce didn’t want help. He’d never regain his full strength if Zoey insisted on coddling him. “I’m not going back to bed. Unless,” he added, giving her a scorching look, “you’d like to join me, wife.”
Zoey stepped away from him as if burned. “Is that all you can think of?”
“You owe me a wedding night. You’ve managed to avoid me but my day will come.”
“There will be no wedding night,” Zoey said evenly.
“We’ll see, won’t we?”
“I’ve got to clean up and start supper.” She started to leave.
“Zoey.”
She paused but did not turn around to face him. “What?”
“I’m well acquainted with women’s wiles and machinations. And I always get my way.”
As she strode off, Pierce closed his eyes and rested his head against the backrest of the chair as his strength slowly returned. Another day or two and he’d be ready to mount a horse. It rankled to sit around the house like an invalid all day. This inactivity was killing him. Maybe he’d ride into town tomorrow and mail a letter to his brothers. They must be worried sick about him.
Zoey was
too rattled to come up with a proper retort as she left the room. Pierce was too damn handsome and too damn sure of himself for his own good, and for hers. If she hadn’t seen him at his weakest, she’d never suspect he’d sustained a life-threatening injury. He looked too strong, too virile. Had he been operating at his full potential, she’d have been in serious trouble. It surprised Zoey that Pierce wanted her sexually. How could he want a woman he didn’t trust? For her own peace of mind she preferred to think he was merely tormenting her for forcing a marriage between them. She could take everything he dished out as long as he stayed at the Circle F long enough to foil Willoughby’s plans for her.
Cully joined them for supper that night. Zoey had changed into a gingham dress, which suited her perfectly.
“You look quite fetching tonight,” Pierce complimented.
Almost anything looked fetching on Zoey, Pierce reflected, or nothing at all. For lack of something better to do, Pierce had spent long hours dreaming about slowly undressing Zoey, arousing her to passion’s peak, and then thrusting himself inside her. If he concentrated hard enough, he could feel himself fill her. Her entrance would be small and tight and he’d have to take his time, arousing her first with slow, drugging kisses and tender caresses. His groin grew heavy and he stifled a groan. Damn, if he didn’t have her soon, he’d burst.
When Pierce continued to stare at Zoey, Cully asked, “Is something wrong, Delaney?”
Pierce tore his gaze away. “Nothing’s wrong. Why do you ask?”
“Miz Zoey said Willoughby left in a huff today. Reckon he’ll be back?”
It took a moment for Pierce to address Cully’s question, distracted as he was. “He’ll be back, all right. Tell me, Cully, what are our chances of hiring extra hands for the Circle F?”
“Three weeks ago I’d say not a chance in hell.” He gave Zoey a sheepish look. “Sorry, Miz Zoey, but that’s the God’s truth.” He returned his gaze to Pierce. “When you and Zoey got hitched, the odds changed. Having a man in charge will make a heap of difference.”
“I can run this ranch as well as any man,” Zoey retorted. “Pa made sure of that.”
“I reckon you can, Miz Zoey, but that ain’t the way of things and you know it. Men don’t want to take orders from a woman. And they’re afraid of Willoughby.”
“Hmmm,” Pierce said thoughtfully. “I thought I’d ride into town tomorrow and have a look around. I want to mail a letter to my brothers and let them know I’m all right.”
“Is that wise?” Zoey questioned. He certainly looked fit enough to ride. In fact, he looked fit enough to … God! What was she thinking?
“What do you mean by that?” Pierce asked with deceptive calm. “Are you afraid I’ll keep on riding once I leave the ranch? Nothing or no one can keep me cooped up here now that I’m well enough to sit a horse. Are you worried about my health, wife?”
Zoey bit her lip in consternation. What would happen if Pierce simply rode away? “I don’t know you well enough to know what you’ll do. You owe me for saving your life, but I don’t suppose that means anything to you.”
He gave her a look of controlled fury. “Should it, after the way you railroaded me into marriage?”
“I’d hoped … Never mind, Cully will ride into town with you. Or better yet, he can go alone and mail your letter.”
“Don’t worry, wife, I’m not going anywhere … yet.” He gave her a scorching look that set her heart to pounding. “You and I have unfinished business to attend to before I leave. Cully will remain here with you. I don’t like leaving you alone on the ranch.”
Zoey found it difficult to breathe. What was the matter with her? The inherent promise of Pierce’s words made her feel hot and cold at the same time. “Unfinished business” was a polite way of saying he still expected a wedding night, and before he left, he intended to have it. How long could she hold him off? Long enough to serve her purpose, she hoped. She was convinced that once Pierce relieved her of her virginity, he’d leave the ranch and never look back.
“Very well, go to town. But be forewarned that if you fail to return by suppertime, I’ll send the vigilantes after you. You won’t get far.”
“Trusting soul, aren’t you?” Pierce said sarcastically.
“I can’t afford to be trusting.”
“I said I’d return and I will. Cully can …” Pierce turned to Cully, surprised that the cagey ranch hand had slipped out while he and Zoey were arguing.
Pierce rose abruptly. “I reckon I’ll hit the sack. If it’s all right with you, I’ll ride one of the spare horses into town. By the way, can you afford to pay top wages to potential ranch hands?”
Zoey thought of her empty coffers and frowned. She couldn’t afford to pay any wages, let alone top wages. “The only ready cash I have is that which I removed from your vest.”
“Nothing else?”
“Not until I sell my beeves to the army. That’s assuming we can flush more of our scattered stock from the mountains to sell. Can’t do it without ranch hands, and can’t get ranch hands without money to pay them.”
“You’ll have your ranch hands,” Pierce promised with grim determination.
No matter how he might feel about this forced marriage, he couldn’t up and leave Zoey without solving at least some of her problems. He was alive because of her. He had money in the bank, the Delaney ranch was on solid ground, and he had two brothers to rely upon. Zoey had no one except … her husband.
Damn, what a tangle.
Accused of seducing and beating Cora Lee, railroaded into marriage by Zoey, and pursued by vigilantes who really didn’t care what he had done as long as they could hang a Delaney. And as if that weren’t enough, Cora Lee named him the father of the bastard she carried.
Pierce mounted the stairs slowly, tired but satisfied with his recovery thus far. As he prepared for sleep, he wondered what Zoey would do if he burst into her bedroom to claim his bride. The thought brought a smile to his lips. She’d probably scream like an outraged virgin. He wondered how long it would take before she welcomed him, nay, invited him into her bed.
Zoey’s thoughts were poles apart from Pierce’s. She really didn’t know if Pierce would return from town tomorrow. There was a good chance he would simply ride away and keep riding. His failure to return would mean that she’d lose her land, but at least Willoughby could no longer force her into marriage.
Zoey finished the dishes and dragged herself up the stairs to bed, weary to the bone. Rounding up stray livestock from the hills was hard work. Nearly impossible for two people to accomplish. Eight to ten men would be the least she could make do with to run the ranch efficiently. A dozen would be better.
Who was she kidding? Zoey chided herself. If Pierce managed to hire two or three men, she’d count herself lucky. It was certainly more than she had now.
Zoey’s steps faltered when she neared Pierce’s room. Was he sleeping? she wondered. His first day out of bed had been quite eventful. Forcing her mind to release the strangely arousing image of Pierce reclining in bed, Zoey continued on to her room. She undressed, washed, and donned a prim white nightgown that enveloped her like a shroud. Then she sat at her dressing table, unwinding her braid and brushing out her hair. Her thoughts wandered as she stared dreamily into the mirror.
Suddenly her thoughts scattered when the door to her room opened and Pierce stepped inside. She leaped to her feet, her eyes wide with uncertainty.
“What do you want? Don’t you believe in knocking?”
“I did knock, but you didn’t hear me. I saw a light coming from beneath your door and knew you weren’t sleeping yet.”
She stared at him. He was wearing trousers and nothing else. His feet were bare and so was his chest. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Pierce sent her a mocking grin. “I’m your husband. Who has more right than I?”
“You’re my husband in name only,” Zoey countered. “What do you want?”
He gaze traveled the length of her. �
�You look like a nun, wrapped in that white shroud.”
“What does it matter to you what I wear to bed? State your business and leave. I’m tired.”
He raised a dark brow. “I’ll buy something in town more appropriate for a bride.”
“Don’t bother. What’s your purpose in this visit? I know it wasn’t merely to taunt me about my choice of nightwear.”
“You’re right, my love. You don’t mind if I call you that, do you?” he asked. When he received no answer, he continued. “I changed my mind about riding to town alone. I think you should accompany me.”
“For what reason?”
“Being seen together will help to convince Willoughby and the townspeople that you have a husband now to see to the running of the ranch.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “Why do you care? You can’t wait to leave.”
“True, but you did save my life despite the high payment you demanded in return. I do concede, however, that I owe you something for your trouble. I’ve developed an intense dislike for Samson Willoughby. Therefore I’ve decided to stay long enough to put an end to his meddling.”
“How magnanimous of you,” Zoey said cynically.
“Don’t get me wrong, my love. We both know our marriage is a farce. When the time comes, I’ll be able to leave with no regrets and no looking back.”
“That’s more than I have a right to expect,” Zoey allowed. “I used you, and I’m not proud of it.” She turned away from him. “Good night, Pierce.”
Pierce reached for her. “Not so fast. Don’t I rate a good-night kiss for the anguish you’ve put me through? How much does this ranch mean to you?”
“My land means everything to me! It’s all I have in this world,” Zoey declared hotly. “I’d do anything to keep Willoughby from claiming it.”
“Anything?” Pierce asked softly.
The breath left her lungs. “Almost anything.”
Pierce’s eyes glowed like emeralds as he grasped her shoulders and pulled her against him. “You know what I want.”
Zoey felt his heat through the soft linen of her nightgown. Her heart pounded as she dragged in a painful breath. Why did Pierce have to be so blasted attractive? she wondered with the one rational bit of her brain that still functioned.
