Belle Gone Bad (17 page)

A
s Mercy stepped onto the boardwalk under the portico of the Wildcat Hotel, he felt inspired by the Italian masons. They'd melded Old World architecture with New World practicality, using a high level of skill probably not often found in Indian Territory, or even Texas. He felt an urge to add his own woodworking to bring more beauty to the place.

At the front door, he paused to admire its etched glass set in rich mahogany with bright brass hardware.

“Are we going inside or do you prefer to stand out here and steam as the day heats up?” Belle asked.

Mercy chuckled, patting her hand where she held his elbow. “Must be something in Wildcat Knob air. You're already taking on the attitudes of locals.”

“What I am is wet and miserable.”

He quickly opened the front door and followed her inside. By now he wasn't even surprised to see the elegant décor. Somebody here had taste and money. A cozy area in the lobby had been created by grouping an indigo Chippendale camelback sofa, two matching wing chairs, and two ladder back chairs in gleaming walnut set on a geometric parquet floor.

“One room or two?” a gruff voice asked.

Mercy glanced toward the sound. A lean man sat behind a delicate Queen Anne desk. He wore an indigo shirt that matched the furniture's upholstery color. He'd cut his tawny hair short and left his mustache bushy. The right side of his face was mottled and ridged as if he'd been in a fire.

“I'm Titus, owner and proprietor of the Wildcat Hotel.” The man awkwardly stood up and leaned against the desk. He ran a scarred hand across the bright white fur of a kitten with pale blue eyes that lounged on top of the desk.

“Lovely hotel,” Belle said. “Pretty kitty.”

The kitten stood up, stretched, hissed, leaped down, and ran out of sight.

“She's not used to strangers yet,” Titus said.

“I understand,” Belle said. “We'd like two rooms.”

“Next door to each other.” Mercy had planned to ask for one room, but she was probably right. If she was to play her role correctly, it wouldn't do for her to appear encumbered by a husband.

“Is it possible for me to get a bath in my room?” she asked.

“Each suite contains a bathroom and a bedroom. Is that satisfactory?”

Mercy didn't even know why he was surprised, but he could tell Belle definitely was shocked at the rare luxury.

“Hot water?” Belle asked.

“Wildcat Falls is built on the site of several natural springs. One is cold water. One is hot water. One is medicinal water. We pipe hot and cold running water into our homes and businesses.”

“That's wonderful,” Belle said.

“Handy. Many people come here for health reasons.” Titus briefly touched his scarred face. “As you can see, I'm one.”

Mercy hated to think how painful the man's wounds must have been at one time. But Mercy was getting more confused by the moment. He'd thought this was an outlaw town, not a place like Hot Springs, Arkansas, where people went to bathhouses for their health. Then again, maybe outlaws were in need of medical attention more than most folks, given their line of work.

“We're slow at the moment,” Titus said. “Would you care for your rooms with access to the balcony on Main Street or overlooking the courtyard in back?”

“Main Street,” Belle said.

“Courtyard,” Mercy added about the same time.

“Easily solved,” Titus said. “I'll place you across the hall from each other so you both have the view you desire.”

“Fine,” Belle agreed.

Mercy didn't much like the idea of Belle being in a separate room, but it didn't mean she had to stay in it alone.

“Gold or work?” Titus asked.

Mercy set a gold eagle on top of the desk. “If we stay longer, we can settle our account.”

“Acceptable.” Titus scooped up the eagle and slid it into a drawer. “Please sign the register.” He set aside several books and flipped around a register made of black leather embossed with gold trim. He dipped a fountain pen in the crystal inkwell, then held it out.

Belle quickly scribbled her new name. Mercy added his own, first name only, and returned the pen.

Titus turned the register around and studied it a moment. “Aurora and Mercy, please enjoy your stay at the Wildcat Hotel. If you'll leave your wet clothes outside your doors, I'll see that they're washed, ironed, and returned to you.” He stood up, balancing with one hand on the table. He snagged two keys from a crystal bowl on the desk. He handed one to Belle and the other to Mercy.

“Thank you,” Belle said.

Mercy nodded, wondering if Titus's foot or leg had been damaged at the same time that his face had been wounded. Maybe in the outside world his injuries would have been fatal, where here the medicine spring had cured him. Mercy was surprised to admit it, but he was becoming more impressed with Wildcat Falls all the time.

Belle quickly headed for the staircase. He followed right behind her. When he clutched the handrail and looked at the banister, he knew he could add more beauty to the hotel. The wood was beautiful golden oak, but the handrail and banister had no design except simple, straight lines. He glanced back. Titus watched him.

“I'm a woodworker,” he said.

“Really?” Titus's eyebrows rose upward.

“You may have heard of my design for the Red River Saloon's bar.”

Titus's eyes grew large. “I've never seen it, but I hear it is a magnificent work of art.”

“Thank you.”

“I would be honored, and certainly return your gold, if you would make suggestions or even carve a simple design on the handrail. Of course, you could stay here gratis for as long as it took to create your masterpiece. I would also be quite generous as to payment.”

Mercy nodded. “I'll give your offer some thought.”

As he followed Belle up the stairs, he began to feel sympathy for the residents of Wildcat Falls. If many were injured, disfigured, or crippled, they might develop thick skins and curt manners to repel the anticipated rejection or ridicule of others. They might also develop an appreciation for beauty in all its forms. He admired their triumph over the difficulties of life.

At the top of the staircase, he stopped and looked down at the lobby. He could see the hotel had been built and furnished with loving care. He was reminded of Spiritualist gatherings, whether indoors or outdoors. Now that he thought about it, Wildcat Falls put him in mind of the utopias that Spiritualists and others often discussed creating away from the strife of their current lives. But he didn't want to think about Spiritualists, not when Victoria might still be prowling on the edges of his consciousness.

He glanced down the hall. Belle had already unlocked her door. As she pushed it open and stepped inside, he caught up to her. He quickly closed the door behind them and locked it. He was surprised to see the room furnished with delicate Queen Anne furniture. He couldn't imagine rough-and-tumble cowboys and outlaws staying here. Maybe the furniture had been reinforced or was occasionally replaced. More likely, Titus reserved this suite for female guests.

A plump, double bed with a vermillion, verdigris, and ochre flower pattern bedspread dominated the room. An Oriental rug in similar colors covered most of the wood floor. He could imagine trying out the bed with Belle. He glanced up to tell her, but she'd already made a beeline for the bathroom and disappeared into it.

She'd deposited her saddlebags on top of a drop-leaf dining table with two matching chairs. He set his saddlebags there, too. He could hear water already running in the bathroom. He followed the sound and stopped in the open doorway.

Now he saw the real luxury of the hotel. The fourteen-foot walls covered in flowered wallpaper that echoed the colors of the bedspread soared to a decorative tin ceiling above a wood floor burnished to a high gloss. Bright white porcelain gleamed in the form of a sink, toilet, and claw-foot tub. A vanity table with a large mirror and matching stool held crystal bottles.

He looked toward Belle. She'd left a trail of wet clothes in her haste to reach the bathtub. She'd discarded her wig last. It appeared wickedly red against the bright white of the tub's edge.

The Wildcat Hotel and everything within was beauty at its finest, but nothing could compare to the allure of Belle.

She stood naked with one foot in the tub and one foot out. She smiled at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Join me?”

B
elle picked up a bottle of bath salts on the small table beside the tub that also held soap, washcloths, and towels. The Wildcat Hotel was the most luxurious place she'd ever stayed, and it was worth every penny. She poured salts into the water, smelled lavender, and set the bottle back in place. She picked up a washcloth and a bar of soap before she sat down in the rapidly rising, deliciously hot water. It had a slightly medicinal smell, so perhaps she'd get the benefit of the healing springs. She hoped it'd ease her strained muscles.

She worked up lather between her palms, massaged her face, rinsed off the soap, and immediately felt better. As she rubbed soap on the soft washcloth, she glanced up at Mercy. He looked as tired and bedraggled as she felt, but he also looked extremely appreciative of her nudity.

“Are you going to paint me or join me?”

“Both.”

“First things first.” She pointed at his soggy clothes.

He slid off his duster, glanced around, and put it in the sink. He quickly picked up her clothes and placed them there, too.

“You make a fine housekeeper.”

He chuckled. “We better stay on the good side of Wildcat Falls. Don't you imagine Desperado has a rule about damage to buildings?”

She joined his laughter. “I wouldn't be a bit surprised to learn it. Thank you. I don't want to hurt this beautiful place.”

He sat down on the vanity's bench and pulled off his boots and socks.

“I'm still cold. Want to help me get warm?” She smiled as she washed her body, enjoying the unexpected luxury.

“I want to help you bathe, too.” He grinned as he stood up, unbuttoning his shirt. He shucked it, tossed it in the sink, and reached for the first button of his trousers.

“Are you putting on a show for me?” She looked at the hard muscles of his chest and shoulders, imagining how he'd feel under her fingertips. She immediately felt hotter, but achy, too. Now that they were safe, she needed a lot more than comfort.

“Do you want a show?”

“I want a reward. After that long, hard ride, I deserve one.”

“Yes, you do.” He appeared to consider her options. “Mama Lou's muffins?”

“Good, but no.”

“Mama Lou's fritters?”

“We're out of those, but still no.”

“A new wig from Adella's Delights?”

“That's a necessity, not a reward.”

He dropped his trousers to the floor. He stood completely naked with his shaft jutting out. “Anything else you might want?”

“Come here!”

He chuckled as he tossed his trousers in the sink, stepped into the tub, and sat down. “What type of reward did you have in mind?”

She inhaled, drawing in the musk of him, the lavender of the salts and soap, and the medicinal water. It was a heady combination of scents. She felt her nipples tighten. She didn't think she could get enough of him, now or ever. “Why don't we share a reward?”

“I'm amenable.” He leaned forward and cupped her breasts, massaging and tweaking her nipples into hard peaks.

She felt her body ignite as she reached under the water, grasped his hard cock, and stroked his velvety skin. Just the touch of him made her want him deep inside her body, driving them both to ecstasy.

He groaned as he clasped her face in both hands and looked into her eyes. “Why don't you make an honest man of me?”

“Aren't I making you a happy man?”

He pressed a soft kiss to her mouth and then licked across her lower lip. “Delirious.”

She opened her mouth, felt the thrust of his tongue, and sucked him deep inside. She kissed him, reveling in the taste, the feel, the heat, as she stroked him harder and faster. She gloried in his growing need, aching and burning so badly in her deepest heart that she felt as if she would combust into flames.

He growled, tore free of her mouth, and jerked her forward as he leaned back against the tub. She lost her grip and caught her balance with her hands flat against his muscular chest. She was now wedged between his thighs and felt his hard cock press against her stomach.

“No! I was about to—”

“We agreed,” he said, voice muffled as he placed hot kisses down the side of her neck to her Soleil Wheel, “to share our reward.”

She gasped when he clasped her hips with both hands, lifted her up, and impaled her on his long, rigid shaft. She shivered and shuddered as he moved her up and down, smoothly gliding his cock in the hot juices of her tight sheath. She ground down on him, undulating with heightened frenzy as he stroked deeper and harder. She threw back her head as she grasped his chest, moaning and panting and groaning as she pinched his nipples in mounting exaltation.

“I can't hold out much longer,” he said on a groan.

“Please . . . don't wait.” She caught his rhythm, timing her swivels with his thrusts as she held tight to his shoulders.

“I've got to raise you . . . no protection,” he panted as he gripped her harder.

But she was beyond words or reason. She clasped him with her knees and rode him, bucking and squeezing and bouncing until she felt the thrill of release roll up her spine to the back of her neck, and she shuddered in long waves of ecstasy as he pounded to his own completion.

When she fell boneless against his chest, gasping for air, shuddering all over, he pulled out, and she felt bereft.

“I'm sorry.” He stroked her shoulder, breath coming in short, hard bursts. “I tried, but the position . . . your heat . . . my need.”

She stopped his words with a kiss to his lips. “It's okay. Only once. And even better than before.” She nipped his lower lip. “I never want it any other way.”

“I'll get French caps.” He pressed a hot kiss to her mouth. “Your lips are swollen.”

“They're not all that's swollen.”

“Your other lips, too?”

“Do you want to check?”

“Maybe I'd better. I want to make sure you're well-loved all over.”

“I feel that way.”

He smiled, tracing a fingertip down the side of her face. “Let's try out the bed. I can't think of a better place to love you.”

She sat back, felt the soap, found the washcloth, and held them up. “Are you ready for your bath now?”

He grabbed them from her. “I can take care of it. I want you waiting for me in bed like the sultry siren you are.”

She rose up out of the bath slowly, letting the water cascade down her bare flesh, and watched his eyes darken with desire. To tease him, she languidly set one foot out of the tub and leaned over to step out.

When she felt a swat on her bottom, she jerked around, frowning and preparing to give him the rough side of her tongue. But he appeared quite pleased with himself. She rubbed the sting, realizing it had set her on fire anew. She wanted him all over again.

“A tease gets swatted on her bottom.” He grinned, soaping the washcloth.

When she had both feet firmly on the floor, she turned to face him. She put both hands on the edge of the tub, leaned over so that her breasts dangled toward him. “Did you say tease?”

He grasped both her breasts and squeezed till she moaned and shoved against his hands. He tweaked her nipples, then looked up at her face. “The quicker you get in bed, the quicker I'll show you what a tease deserves.”

“And I'll show you what a naughty hombre gets in return.”

She stepped back, grabbed a towel, and wrapped it around her middle. She picked up the pile of soggy clothes and walked into the bedroom. She opened the door, set the clothes outside, and shut the door. She hoped they'd have clean clothes soon, but most likely not till the next day.

She quickly dried off, tossed the towel on the table, and pulled the pins from her hair. She shook out her long tresses and felt them slide down her back to her waist. She couldn't remember when she'd felt so wonderful.

She pulled back the bedspread, plumped the feather pillows, and lay back on soft white sheets. She'd show him tease. When she heard water run out of the tub, she spread her legs and cupped her mound. When he appeared in the doorway rubbing the water from his body, she held up a finger, licked the tip, and positioned it exactly on her nub.

He growled deep in his throat, tossed the towel behind him, and started for the bed.

She moaned as she traced tight circles on her swollen flesh, growing hotter and wetter as she waited for him to cross the short distance and take her in his strong arms.

But a few steps from the bed he faltered, looked puzzled, grabbed his head with both hands as if in great pain, and then fell to his knees.

Shocked and horrified, she sat up. “Mercy, what's wrong?”

“Victoria.”