A Heart So Wild (12 page)

C
HANDOS wanted her! It was her first thought the next morning, when she woke up in the same euphoric daze. But then later, it hit her like a bucket of cold water. The truth was oh, so obvious! What a daydreaming little fool she was. Of course he wanted her. She was the only woman out there, and he was a man. From what she was able to understand, men took whatever was available. It wasn't that he
really
wanted her. He had shown his indifference to her from the start. It was only that he was tempted, as men were tempted to lust without really caring for the woman in question.

“You going to kill that blanket, or what?”

Courtney swung around. “What?”

“You've been staring at it as if you meant to murder it.”

“I—oh, I had a bad dream.”

“That's not surprising, all things considered.”

He was hunkered down by the fire, a tin of coffee in his hand. He was shaved and dressed, and was already wearing his wide-brimmed riding hat. He was ready to go, but had appar
ently let her sleep as long as she wished. How had he known she needed sleep so badly?

“If you're not in too much of a hurry, would you mind pouring me some coffee?” she asked, getting up to fold her blanket. And then she realized that she was still wearing the clothes she'd been wearing last night. “God sakes, I must have been out of my mind,” she mumbled as she felt the dress, still damp in places.

“Belated shock, probably,” Chandos offered.

“Shock?” Her eyes impaled him. “But
you
knew! Why didn't you remind me?”

“I did. You thanked me very much and promptly lay down and went to sleep.”

Courtney looked away. She must have seemed like a fool, going to sleep in wet clothes. And all because Chandos had wanted her for a few moments! How could she have been such an idiot?

“I'll—have to change,” she said and hurried away.

But that wasn't the end of it. She had packed so quickly last night that she had unthinkingly stuck her wet clothes in her carpetbag with the others, and now everything was damp.

She glanced at Chandos over her shoulder, then looked back at her bag.

“Chandos, I—I—”

“It can't be that bad, cateyes.”

She peeked at him again over her shoulder, then said in a rush, “I don't have anything to wear.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing. I—I packed some wet clothes and—and forgot to take them out to dry.”

“Drying will have to wait until tonight. What
about those pants? How wet are they?” He came toward her and glanced at the bag.

“They're not wet. I stuck them in my saddlebag.”

“Well, then they'll have to do.”

“But I thought—”

“Can't be helped. Wait. I'll get you one of my shirts.”

She was amazed. He didn't seem angry at all. A moment later he tossed her a cream-colored shirt of the softest buckskin she had ever felt. The only problem was that it didn't button. It laced up the front, and she didn't have a dry chemise to wear under it.

“Don't frown, cateyes, because that will have to do. All the rest of my things need washing.”

“I didn't mean . . I would be happy to wash your clothes for you.”

“No,” he replied curtly. “I take care of my own gear.”

Now
he was angry. Of all the—oh! Courtney fetched her pants and stalked off into the bushes. Infuriating man. She had only offered to help. You'd think she was angling to be his—wife or something, the way he'd reacted.

Five minutes later, Courtney stomped back to the campsite to pack up her bedroll. Her color was high, the result of temper and self-consciousness. Chandos's shirt hung well past her hips, so she couldn't tuck it into her pants. And the laced V, which probably only came halfway down his chest, reached clear to her navel. But the worst was the lacing, made of stiff rawhide that defied tight binding. No matter how hard she pulled, there was still a scandalous half-inch gap.

She kept her back to Chandos, and when she came to the fire for her coffee, she held her hat over her breasts, daring him with a single furious look to say anything. He didn't. In fact, he did his best not to look at her at all.

Courtney cast about for a subject that would get her mind off her discomfort, and her gaze fell on the extra horse that was tethered with their three.

“Wasn't that a bit harsh, making that Trask fellow walk all the way back to Kansas?”

The mild rebuke got her more than she bargained for. Chandos fixed her with icy blue eyes, and she had the feeling he was actually on the verge of violence.

“Since you don't know what he's guilty of, lady, how can you know what he does or doesn't deserve?”

“You know for a fact that he's guilty?”

“Yes.”

“Of what?”

“Rape. Murder. The slaughter of men, women, and children.”

“My God!” Courtney blanched. “If you knew all that, why didn't you kill him outright?”

Saying nothing, he stood up and moved away toward the horses.

“I'm sorry!” she called after him. Had he heard?

God sakes, she was always saying she was sorry for something. Why didn't she just keep her mouth shut in the first place?

She would put Dare Trask out of her mind. He ought to've been drawn and quartered, as civilized countries had practiced for terrible crimes. But she wouldn't think of it again.

She doused the small fire with the remaining coffee and then went to her horse, which Chandos had been nice enough to saddle for her. She quickly pulled her hairbrush through her hair, which was a mass of tangles, though clean.

Chandos came up behind her as she was working on a particularly difficult knot. “Since you think I have a talent for such things, I could cut that off for you.” There was a strong trace of humor in his voice, and he added, “How many scalps was I supposed to have taken? I can't remember.”

Courtney swung around. He was grinning at her. How quickly he got over a bad mood!

She remembered everything else she'd said about him last night, and she felt her cheeks heating up. “How long were you out there listening?”

“Long enough.”

“I hope you don't think I believe any of what I said,” she assured him quickly. “It's just that when they asked me if you were part Indian, I thought I'd better say yes. I wanted to unsettle them. After all, they claimed they'd never seen you, so how would they know you don't look anything like an Indian?”

“I don't?” Chandos ventured softly, disturbingly. “You've seen so many Indians that you're qualified to make the distinction?”

Courtney paled. He was teasing her, but she didn't find it at all amusing.

Slowly, she felt the total seriousness of his manner. “You aren't part Indian, are you?” she whispered, then immediately regretted the question. Anything that farfetched didn't deserve an answer. He didn't give one, anyway,
only stared at her in that unsettling way he had.

She lowered her eyes. “Forget I asked. If you're ready to go ..?”

Taking her hand, he slapped into it the leftover meat from last night. “That ought to hold you till lunch.”

“Thank you.” But as he turned away, she asked, “Chandos, do you know what ‘
bella
' means?”

The look he fixed on her was intense. “The Mexican call you that?”

“Yes.”

“It means beautiful.”

“Ah.”

Once more Courtney found herself in a state of acute, blushing discomfort.

“I
F you've got any more wash, you'd better get it done tonight,” Chandos informed Courtney as soon as they stopped to make camp that evening. “We leave off following the Arkansas tomorrow, and won't be near water again for at least three days.”

Courtney didn't have much more to wash, but she did have to air out and dry her whole wardrobe. Chandos quickly finished taking care of his horse and Trask's, and headed for the river with his wash. He finished that quickly too, before Courtney was even ready to start. When she was done, their campsite looked like the backyard of a boarding house. Clothing was spread out over every available bush and tree and rock.

Courtney found it humorous that their campsite, smack in the middle of Indian Territory, could look so homey. But it did. It gave her a warm feeling that turned into deep contentment, surprising her. Part of that feeling came from just being close to Chandos, and feeling totally safe because he was there. He hadn't gone away to hunt tonight, and she was certain it was because he didn't want to leave her
alone. He sensed she wasn't up to that yet, and she was grateful for his kindness.

So that he would know she appreciated him, she worked hard to make a savory stew out of their dried beef and vegetables, using the few spices she had bought, and loading the stew with fat dumplings. There wasn't a single bean in it, either.

While Courtney prepared the meal, Chandos leaned back against his saddle and closed his eyes. When she began humming, the tune played over his body and he closed his eyes tighter against it. She was doing it again, working on his senses just when he least expected it. Where Courtney Harte was concerned, he seemed to have no defenses.

How much more could he take of this constant wanting her without fulfillment? Having to fight his own natural inclinations was new to Chandos, as was wanting a woman so badly he could hardly think of anything else. She had him wound up so tight he was ready to burst, and there was no way to escape her.

But he wouldn't touch her. Even if she offered herself, he wouldn't…Well, wait a minute, he wasn't that noble. There was only so much he would demand of himself, after all.

Oh, who did he think he was kidding? She
had
offered, and he was still suffering over it. This ridiculous notion of his that he had to protect her—even from himself—was sheer torture. She had put out one signal after another with her sultry looks, her soft, yielding kisses. She wanted him, and knowing she wanted him fired his blood like nothing ever had.

But did she know she was tempting him be
yond endurance? She couldn't know. He had taken pains not to let her know—until last night. And if she did know, then she obviously didn't care, for she'd made no effort to curb those looks that seared his flesh.

“Chandos, how do they manage to drive such large herds of cattle over these hills? Do they go around them?”

“They don't.” He was surprised by the sharpness in his voice and quickly softened it. “The cattle trail is about fifty miles west of here.”

“But I thought the quickest way to reach Waco was to follow the cattle trail?”

“It is.”

“And we're not?”

“I've got business in Paris, a town in northeast Texas. It'll take us five days or so out of our way, but it can't be helped. It's where I was headed in the first place, and I don't feel obliged to lose a week taking you to Waco first, then doubling back. Any objections?”

He said it so defensively that she didn't dare object. “No. I wouldn't ask you to change your plans on my account. A few more days shouldn't matter.” She stirred her stew one last time. “Food's ready, Chandos.”

While she ate, Courtney found herself both delighted to learn that she'd be with Chandos longer than she'd supposed, and angry that he hadn't bothered telling her his plans. She peeked at him a few times until he caught her at it, unnerving her with his gaze so that she hastily finished her meal and rushed off to check her clothing.

Enough of her things were dry that she could finally wear something else, so she went down
to the river to change. Stripping out of her pants and shirt, she hesitated only a moment before taking a plunge into the water. It was past sunset, and Chandos was still eating. This would be the last water they would camp near for several days, so it was her last bath for a while.

Moonlight shimmered over the water. Courtney dug her feet into the river bottom beneath the shadow of an overhanging tree and let the current wash over her. She felt utterly wicked being stark naked. It was delightful.

At last, reluctantly, she left the river. Drying off posed a problem because she had no towel, so she wiped herself off with her hands—Lord, hadn't she wanted to do that to Chandos's back?
Don't think about that, Courtney
. Then she dressed quickly and headed back to camp.

To her surprise, she found that he had cleaned up their meal and laid out his bedroll and was already banking the fire. She sighed. She wasn't the least bit sleepy after her invigorating bath, but he was ready to sleep.

He stood up as she reached him. His eyes swept over her pale green silk gown, and she was suddenly aware that she hadn't completely dried off before dressing. The silk clung to her in places. Too, some of her hair had gotten wet, though she'd pinned it up. It was obvious that she had bathed, and the memory of bathing stark naked suddenly embarrassed her.

“If I'd known I wouldn't have to clean the dishes,” she blurted out, “I wouldn't have bothered to get dressed.” Oh, why did that sound so awful? She hadn't meant…“What I meant—
oh, never mind. Here.” Courtney handed him the shirt she had aired. “And thanks again.”

She turned away, but Chandos alarmed her by grabbing her wrist. “Next time let me know what you're doing, woman. You could have been bitten by a water snake, or hit by a floating log and swept downriver, or carried off by Indians, or worse.”

“What could be worse than Indians?” she said flippantly, defensive because she hadn't considered any of that.

“There's worse.”

“But you weren't that far away,” she said. “You would have heard me call for help.”

“If you could have called. A man wouldn't give you that chance.”

“If you're suggesting I not wash—”

“No.”

Her eyes rounded as the obvious alternative hit home. “If you mean to—to—”

“Hell, no,” he growled, as appalled by her conclusion as she was. “I don't have to watch you. I just need to be close by, close enough to protect you.” He realized there was no way out of this embarrassing conversation. “Forget it,” he finished curtly.

“Forget what? Letting you know before I—?”

“Forget washing, just forget it.”

“Chandos!”

“A lady's got no business bathing on the trail, anyway.”

“That's unreasonable and you know it!” she challenged him. “It's not as if I removed all my clothes. I did tonight, but I—”

She got no further. The image her words conjured up in Chandos's mind undid him. With a
low growl, he brought her against him, and the full force of his passion was unleashed.

At the first touch of his mouth, Courtney felt a shock of excitement deep inside that stole the strength from her limbs. Thinking her legs wouldn't support her, she held tightly to Chandos, wrapping her arms around his neck.

One of his arms held her like steel, pressing her so hard her breasts melted against his chest. His other hand gripped the back of her head, so she couldn't escape his ravishing mouth. There was something very savage in the fierce, brutal way his lips moved on hers, bruising, forcing her lips apart. And then the stabbing of his hot tongue slashed across hers.

Misunderstanding the violence of his assault, Courtney could only think he was trying to hurt her again, and she became frightened. She tried to move away from him, but he didn't release her. She pushed against his shoulders trying to break free, but his hold only strengthened. She twisted and squirmed, but she couldn't budge him.

Chandos was dimly aware that Courtney was fighting him. He had lost his personal battle, and he knew it. But it hadn't occurred to him yet that he might be frightening her with the power of his desire. Her continued struggling brought him up short, enough to bring him to his senses.

His assault on her mouth ended, and she gasped for breath. He loosened his hold on her, just enough that she could put a little space between them.

“Was that another one of your lessons?” she said, panting.

“No.”

“But you hurt me again!”

Chandos stroked her cheek. “That was the last thing I meant to do, little cat.”

He was now so gentle—his voice, his gaze, his hand on her face. But Courtney wouldn't let her guard down. She was still afraid of him.

“Why did you attack me, Chandos?”

The accusation wrenched him. “Attack?”

“What would you call it?”

“Storming your defenses?” he suggested wryly.

“Don't you dare laugh!” she cried. “You're hateful, and—and—”

“Shh, cateyes, and listen to me. If I frightened you, I'm sorry. But when a man wants a woman as much as I want you, it's not easy to go slowly. Do you see?”

After a shocked silence she asked in wonder, “You—you want me?”

“How can you doubt it?” he said gently.

Courtney lowered her eyes so he couldn't see her joy, her confusion.

“You didn't want me before,” she said in a small voice. “Don't do this to me, Chandos, just because you—you need a woman, and I'm all that's available out here.”

He tilted her chin up, forcing her eyes to meet his. “What have I done to you with my foolish battle to resist you?” He sighed with self-reproach. “Doubt the wisdom of my desire if you will, but don't doubt that I have wanted you from the moment you walked into that store in Rockley. Do you think I would have bothered with that no-account Jim Ward except for you?”

“No—don't say that.”

“Do you know how close I came to killing your friend Reed because you
let
him kiss you?”

“Chandos, please!”

He gathered her close to him, very gently this time, ignoring what was now only a halfhearted resistance. “I can't help what I feel any more than you can, cateyes. I tried to leave you behind and put you from my mind, but I couldn't. I tried not to touch you. I can't fight it anymore, especially now that I know you want me, too.”

“No, I—”

He wouldn't let her deny it. He took away her will and reason with another kiss, as tender now as the first one had been brutal. But it was his confession that worked magic on her, more than any kiss could have done. He wanted her—had always wanted her! Oh, Lord, how that thrilled her.

Courtney melted into him, returning his kiss with utter abandon. This was her fantasy come true, and she wanted it to go on and on. It did, as he rained kiss after kiss on her.

She wasn't thinking what all this kissing would lead to, not even when Chandos carried her to his bedroll and laid her gently on it.

His kisses became more amorous, and he started to undress her. She moved her hands to stop him, but he brushed them away, moving his lips down along her neck. Oh, Lord, it felt so good, so tingly.

A decision had to be made, she told herself. Would he be angry if she let him go so far and then stopped him? Could she stop him?

A tiny tremor of fear began to rise in her and she gasped, “Chandos, I—I'm not…”

“Don't talk, little cat,” he whispered huskily by her ear. “It's past wanting now—I
have
to touch you. Like this—and this.”

His hand slid down her open dress, finding first one breast and then the other. Her thin chemise was no protection against such intense heat. And then, as the pleasure became unbearable, he began nibbling at her ear.

He was bombarding her with passion, and she couldn't think. There was no protest from her as he quickly removed her gown. A dizzying kiss followed, and then her chemise was whisked over her head and she was pressed back down, naked from the waist up.

His mouth covered her breast and her body jerked at this new blaze of heat. Her hands flew to grasp his head and hold him there. Her fingers entwined in his hair, she moaned as his tongue enflamed the hard kernel of her nipple, flicking it, stabbing at it. And then he began sucking, and she heard the sound of deep feline pleasure in her throat. The purring made Chandos groan.

Courtney had never dreamed of anything so wonderful, so deeply satisfying, but there was more, and Chandos was impatient to show her all of it.

She hadn't even felt him untying her petticoat, but as his hand slipped inside, the muscles of her belly quivered. Those gentle fingers glided on their downward path, and suddenly she realized how far they'd gone. Could she stop him? Her tug on his arm was only a token resistance.

And then his finger plunged inside her, and she cried out, “No!”

His lips came quickly to silence her, but he didn't remove his finger. It was the idea of it being there inside her that had made her cry out, not the feeling he was causing, certainly not that. A churning, violent eruption reverberated through her, obliterating her resistance.

When she was finally still, when her hand no longer pulled at his arm, but moved slowly up to clasp his neck, Chandos paused to look down at her. The fire in his eyes mesmerized her, giving her an inkling of what it had cost him to hold his passion in check thus far. It was an almost unbearable revelation.

He kept his gaze on her face as his hand caressed the hard knot at the apex of her mound. She gasped, blushing furiously when she saw he was watching her.

“Don't—”

“Shh, kitten,” he whispered. “Imagine me inside you. You're wet for me. Do you know what it does to me to know you're so ready for me?”