Gold Dust (23 page)

“I’m just curious,” she claimed with exaggerated innocence.

“Be curious about something else. Behave yourself.”

“Why? I thought men liked it when the ladies made them feel like—what was it—God’s gift to women?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

She glided toward him again, reached out, and flicked a finger against his chin the way Maude had done a time or two. The
gesture had been annoying when Maude had done it. When Katy’s finger touched him, though, she might as well have been wielding
one of those hot branding irons that had become a symbol of the Old West. He jumped back before he gave in to the temptation
to catch her hand and pull her against him.

Her eyes glinted up at him, bright with equal parts of mischief and malice. “Don’t be so cranky, Jonah. Maybe it’s not the
walk that you like. Maybe it’s the way all that hair swishes around their faces.” She pulled the pins from her coiled braids
and swiftly ran her fingers through the thick ropes of shining black. Jonah’s groin clenched as she artfully spread the curtains
of hair over her shoulders and around her face. “How’s that?” she crooned. “It’s not red or silver-blond, but maybe in a pinch
it would do?”

“Don’t, Katy.” Jonah’s voice was hoarse.

“Don’t what? Don’t you think I can be a woman? Just because I looked like a boy when you first saw me, you think I’m some
kind of kid who doesn’t know she’s female.”

“I know you’re a woman, Katy. I don’t have one goddamned doubt about it.” Jonah was nearly undone by the scent of her. She
smelled of pine and woodsmoke and woman, which proved to be a headier perfume than any potion Maude and her companions bathed
themselves in.

“Well,” she twirled lightly away from him. “Good for you.” She tilted her head in a pose of exaggerated reflection. “Maybe
it’s the flirty eyes that men like.” She batted her eyelashes and smiled seductively. “What do you think?”

Her eyes, flashing emerald green in the lantern light, were suddenly all Jonah could see. They glittered like jewels in the
lush black forest of her lashes. Then her lips intruded. Rosy without the aid of artifice, softly sculpted into a perfect
bow, they were moist and slightly parted in an inviting smile. A flash of anger added to the heat that already made him sweat.
Little Katy was getting revenge in the world’s most ancient way. No doubt she had entertained enough men in her adventurous
young life to know exactly what she was doing to him—and doing very effectively. That the buttons of his trousers hadn’t given
way from the painful pressure of his arousal was a miracle.

“Don’t you like the eye thing?” she inquired with a final bat of her lashes. “And you didn’t like this either.” She swayed
toward him, imitating Maude’s hip-thrusting walk. “What else does a woman do to entertain a man? Oh, yes. Now I remember.
They ooooh and aahhh over what a hero he is, and then hang all over him like they can’t stand on their own feet without his
awesome strength to help them.”

Her fingers brushed his arm with a butterfly touch. Jonah went hot and cold at the same time as her hand slid up his arm to
his shoulder.

“Don’t do this, Katy.”

“Do what?” she purred in a fair imitation of Maude’s breathy voice.

“Goddamn it!” He grasped her shoulders to hold her still. “You’ve pushed me far enough.”

Katy felt her body go limp in his grasp; he didn’t need the vise of his hands to hold her motionless, for at that moment she
couldn’t have moved if Stone House itself had tumbled onto their tent. Her skin went hot then cold, then hot again. Inside
that deep blue-eyed gaze was a man she’d only glimpsed—still Jonah Armstrong, but with the banter, refinement, and patience
burned away. Her spiteful little act had suddenly become very serious indeed.

“Jonah…” Katy didn’t know if she meant his name as a warning or an invitation. Perhaps it was a call to the old Jonah—the
one she’d met in Willow Bend and pestered until he’d allowed her to stay with him, the one who met her most outrageous behavior
with a chuckle and a shake of his head, the one who had such a ready smile and buoyant laugh. He wasn’t smiling now, though.
The muscle at the hinge of his strong jaw jerked with tension, and the lines of his face were rigid. He was, she guessed,
about as mad as a porcupine who’d sat on his own spiny tail.

An eternity seemed to pass while they stood there with gazes locked. Hunter poked his head inside the tent flap, gave them
both a brief stare, then hastily backed out. Slowly Jonah’s grip relaxed. He let her go, but she couldn’t move away. His eyes
burned with a blaze that made her giddy with a delicious, wild, madness. As if spellbound, she reached out her hand and laid
it gently upon his chest.

“Don’t! For God’s sake!” His arm jerked up to sweep away her hand and accidently caught her shoulder with a solid blow. Katy
staggered back. Groggy, as if she had just awakened from a dream, she lost her balance and fell back onto the spread blankets
of her bedroll.

Jonah was instantly beside her. “Katy! Jesus! I’m sorry! Are you hurt?”

“No.” In fact she could feel nothing but his hand gripping her arm, see nothing but his serious face. The tent and its contents
faded to a pale blur as she reached up to touch the face that hovered above hers.

“Jonah…”

Surrender softened his eyes the instant before he kissed her. His mouth worshiped hers as he stretched out beside her. Giving
in to her natural instincts, Katy tangled her legs with his, arched into his hard body, met his seeking tongue with her own.
Panting, he broke away and looked down at her. His eyes were warm with a light that sent a thrill of anticipation shivering
through her.

“Katydid. My beautiful Katy. What have you done to me?”

A great stillness settled over Katy’s spirit. She was suddenly very certain of what she was doing. No more playing at silly
games; no more battering herself with uncertainties. Lying entangled with Jonah seemed natural and right. She could hear his
heart beat and feel the rhythm of life surge through his body where his hard flesh was pressed against her. Their breath mingled,
and for a moment their very souls seemed to entwine.

“Katy… My Katy.”

Katy closed her eyes as his mouth once more drowned her in sensual possession. His lips moved over hers with a confidence
that lacked the desperation of their last kiss. She met the thrusts of his tongue in an eager duel, then willingly let him
explore the recesses of her mouth. He tasted of coffee and burned beans, smelled of woodsmoke, clean male sweat, and warm,
musky lust. Unafraid, Katy allowed her senses to be overwhelmed by the sheer maleness of him, of his hard compared to her
soft, his strength pressed against her newly discovered delicacy, his size looming over her smallness. She wanted him so much
she could scarcely breathe. With every heartbeat the fire inside her grew hotter.

“Jonah please… Please don’t stop.”

“Hush,” he breathed against her neck. His tongue traced the ridge of her collarbone in the open vee of her shirt. “No chance
of me stopping. Another damned mudslide couldn’t make me stop.”

He slid his hand over her breast, and Katy groaned with pleasure as he gently kneaded the tender flesh. Desperate for the
sensation of his hand on her bare flesh, she fumbled at the buttons of her shirt. With a quiet chuckle, he helped.

“Impatient, are you?”

Impatient was not the word. There were no words to describe what she felt when his warm hand cupped her naked breast, or when—paradise
on earth!—he took her hardened nipple into his mouth and nursed upon her full flesh like a suckling babe. Warm rivers of pleasure
spread from her nipple in every direction, racing through her body to finally pool between her legs, where a liquid ache grew
to outright pain. Even the pain was ecstasy.

She called his name aloud, more of a panting whisper than a word, but he refused to be hurried in his exploration. Baring
her other breast, he treated it to the same tender worship he’d given the first one. By slow degrees he peeled away her chemise
and tasted each inch of flesh that was bared. When her hands tore at his shirt, he willingly shrugged it off and pulled his
long-sleeved undershirt over his head.

Katy wanted to look at him forever, to drink in the beauty of supple muscle and broad shoulders, of hard, flat stomach and
lean ribs, but her own desires clamored for satisfaction. The thick wiry hair that forested his chest drew her fingers as
hard, puckered male nipples invited her mouth. She touched her lips to him, then her teeth. His soft groan of pleasure echoed
in his chest, and Katy’s spirit soared in a surge of power. She tangled her tongue in his chest hair, darting in to count
coup on his flesh. She nipped at his ribs and nibbled his breastbone, but before she could feast further, he pushed her down
onto the blankets and captured her exploring hands.

“Not so fast, you little cannibal.” His smile was wicked. “It’s my turn at the table, and I have a different feast in mind.”

He kissed her breasts, each in its turn, and paid hard and thorough homage to her mouth. Gentleness had fled. She didn’t need
it any longer. His sweet ravaging met its match in her hungry response. Eagerly he rucked her skirt and petticoat up around
her waist and ran his hand along a leg protected only by the thin cotton of ankle-length bloomers.

“Women wear too damned much underwear,” he muttered against her mouth. He didn’t let the bloomers spoil his sport, though,
and boldly settled his hand between her legs. The tingle of shock Katy suffered as he kneaded that most private flesh couldn’t
compete with the aching need his caress inspired. She gasped for breath as he deftly found the center of erotic ache, a place
she hadn’t known existed. A warm moistness greeted his gently seeking fingers. Katy wanted to rip away the bloomers that separated
his hand from that most tender flesh. She squirmed in frustration, pressing herself into his hand with a little cry of need.

“Hush, Katydid. I’m going to give you what you want. Hush now.”

The few seconds he took to peel away her bloomers felt like an eternity of frustration. Her need was so great that the moment
his fingers returned to brush against her heated, naked flesh, her body convulsed in climax. Jonah egged her on, sliding his
fingers inside to demand another tribute to his sensual power, and her body obeyed. Katy’s senses tumbled in a maelstrom that
swept the last shred of control from her grasp. At her cry of ecstatic release, Jonah clamped his hand over her mouth.

“Easy, my love. You don’t want the whole Chilkoot Trail looking in on us.”

His other hand soothed and caressed, teasing the swollen flesh between her legs. She lay in exhausted bliss as he continued
to touch and tantalize. Unbelievably, her sated body
began once again to contract inward around a center of pure desire.

Katy could only lie in a needful haze as Jonah struggled hastily out of his trousers. The sight of him springing free of restraint,
hard and huge, sent a spurt of liquid fire through her veins. When Jonah settled himself eagerly between her thighs, she wrapped
her legs around him in welcome.

“Katy.” He kissed her breasts, then her mouth. “Beautiful Katydid,” he whispered against her lips.

His erection prodded at the moist, swollen flesh between her legs, seeking entrance. Then he was inside her, pressing gently
into her only a little way, then withdrawing, then forward again in tender exploration. Panting, he touched her brow with
his. His skin was moist with sweat, hot with the fire he struggled to control.

Katy closed her eyes and thrust her hips upward, forcing him more deeply inside. He expelled a breathy groan, stilled her
with a strong grip on her hips, and thrust boldly to the hilt. The pain caught Katy unprepared. She yiped softly but didn’t
struggle to escape the relentless invasion. Jonah froze.

“Good God!” He glared down at her, his eyes blazing with accusation as well as desire.

“It’s all right, Jonah.” The pain was fading. Katy moved beneath him, gently experimenting with this strange feeling of having
him so much a part of her. She prayed he wouldn’t stop now. If she could have her way, he would never stop. She wanted him
inside her forever.

His head thrown back on the strong column of his neck, he remained still as she moved. Gradually his face softened. He began
to move with her, slowly at first, then taking control of their rhythm and driving faster, harder. Katy willingly surrendered
to his lead. She wrapped her legs tightly around his hips as he thrust into her. Her nails dug into his shoulders, her breathing
panted in time with his. The fire that burned through every fiber of her body put her earlier passion to shame. Huge as he
was, deeply as he rammed into her, she couldn’t get
enough of him—until he clamped her hips in his hands and pulled her up to meet his final searing tribute. Sealed to him, melting
around him, her body convulsed in a shock wave of rapture. She welcomed the hot spurt of his offering with primitive glee,
watched in barbaric satisfaction as his glistening body spasmed in completion. Spent, breathing slowly and deeply, Jonah lowered
his mouth to hers for one more devouring kiss. If the remnants of passion drove him to try to suck the very air from her body,
Katy didn’t care. If Jonah had wanted at that moment to eat her alive, she would have offered herself willingly.