Just This Once (22 page)

“Spooked you, have I? Now you see why it
doesn’t pay to think of me as a friend.”

“If you mean that you’ve driven me away from
that idiotic notion—yes, you have. Now I’m tired. My arm hurts, and
if you’d
kindly
let me go, I want my bed.”

He wanted her bed too. With her in it.

The realization came as a shock. An
unwelcome one that pierced him with terrifying reality.

And somehow he couldn’t let her go. His
fingers circled her uninjured wrist, and the other arm snaked about
her waist. He was oblivious of the footman discreetly driving the
carriage off to the stables, oblivious of the scent of late roses
and freshly cut grass that wafted in the darkness. Oblivious of
everything but her.

A war was raging inside Ethan at that
moment. Lord help him, she was incredible, standing beneath the
moon in the shadow of Stonecliff Park, the wind whipping her hair
around her face, her delicate jaw taut with anger, and pure
feminine fire flashing from her amethyst eyes. He ought to let her
go, he ought to bolt across the gardens and meadows of Stonecliff
and dive into that pond, let the chill water crash through his
heated body and banish the desire raging in his loins.

He had called her a fool. But he was the
fool. Because he wanted her.

Wanted a beautiful thief who couldn’t be
trusted. A woman who held his future within her dainty hands, who
could ruin him or blackmail him if she chose, if he let her have
even a small bit of power over him. A woman who might face danger
now because of him.

She’s not Molly,
an inner voice
shouted.

She’s nothing like Molly.

But for the first time since Molly died, he
wanted one woman, one particular woman with a need that burned
through his bones, that seared his soul, that ripped through him
more agonizingly than a thousand arrows.

There were a dozen reasons to stay as clear
of her as possible, to feel nothing, to think of her as only a pawn
in this game he played with his dead father’s tyrannical will.

A dozen reasons to subdue the emotions she
evoked in him despite all his resolutions and his resolve.

And only one reason to keep her here within
his arms, to draw her closer, as he was doing now, to lower his
lips toward hers.

“No!” she murmured in a ragged tone, and
tried to pull away.

“Yes.” Ethan yanked her back. “I need...
to...” For once in his life, he was at a loss for words. Confusion
filled him, a most undesirable emotion, and because of it he
latched on to the one reason he could justify to himself, the one
reason he could give her for why he was hanging on to her for dear
life.

“I’ll prove to you that I can’t be trusted.
That you should be as wary of me as you would be of Tiny, or of
that man you were running from in Abilene. You should run from me
too. I’m worse than all of them.”

“That I believe,” she cried, panicking
because what she saw in his eyes was raw and wild and dark, and it
reminded her of Snake.

“You’re about to believe more.”

She trembled all over at the ruthlessness in
his tone, at the dangerous nearness of him as his face loomed over
hers.

“Consider this a warning of what will happen
if you try to get near me, try to manipulate me.”

“I wasn’t... I was being honest, trying to
be your friend.”

“Big mistake.” He wanted to scare her, he
told himself as he clamped her against him. To keep her from
reaching out to him again, from touching him, not literally with
her fingers, but with that haunting trust in her eyes, be it real
or phony.

He had to drive her away.

So he pulled her close, closer, until her
breasts were crushed against his chest, and her slender body
trembled like a windblown flower in his grasp, and then he lowered
his mouth to hers and kissed her.

He wanted it to be a hard kiss, a
frightening kiss, one that would make her fear that he’d betray
their initial agreement, that if she didn’t keep her distance and
watch her step, he wouldn’t think twice about breaking his
pledge.

It started out that way, and he heard her
whimper as his lips captured hers, and dominated them with a harsh
power that was meant to terrify her. But as she tried fearfully to
wrench away, something in the pitiful effort smote him. And
something in those silken, vibrant lips affected him in a
completely unexpected way, turning his anger to a different kind of
heat, jolting and equally powerful, but tempered with a gentleness
that stunned him as the kiss evolved into one of inexplicable
tenderness.

Instantly, the fearful tension drained from
her stiffened body. He felt the quiver slide all through her. And
most startling of all, her warm, sweet mouth parted, gasped, and
clung to his.

“Ethan, oh, Ethan,” she whispered in wonder,
and he was rocked by the effect her soft voice had on him.

This wasn’t working out the way he’d
planned.

“Unless you like playing with dynamite,
sweetheart, don’t try to be anything to me but what you were hired
to be—a phony wife.” He tried to sound sneering and cold, but his
hands were circling her waist, tracing the provocative outline of
her hips, even as he breathed in the sunshine-and-honey scent of
her.

“We have a bargain,” Josie heard herself
saying as she tried frantically to summon the shreds of reason. But
her senses were swimming. The solid muscular feel of his torso and
long, hard thighs pressed against her, heated her blood. He smelled
of soap and sweat, and in the moonlight his bronzed skin and
glinting eyes looked so fiercely male, it took her breath away. And
when he’d kissed her—he’d been trying to be cruel, she knew, for
she’d read his mood and sensed the anger in him, but he hadn’t hurt
her, hadn’t inflicted pain the way Snake had. There was no meanness
in him. His mouth had devoured, tormented, and commanded hers, but
she’d never been afraid.

And she’d never felt so alive.

“Sure we do. A bargain. Right.” Mockery
edged his tone. His hand twisted in her hair, forcing her head
back. And his thumb traced the fragile line of her cheek in a
taunting caress.

Once again, fear crept back. Josie stared at
him, wide-eyed, as the last wisps of pleasure ebbed.

“You promised.”

“Sure, sweetheart. That I’d keep my distance
so long as you did your part. But your part doesn’t include trying
to draw me into your web.”

“I’m not—”

“Under your spell.”

“I’m not!” Trembling, Josie tried to wrench
free, but he held her easily. The power in him frightened her. Her
eyes blazed up into his as sanity and anger and trepidation flooded
back. She despised him. What he aroused in her was so
contradictory, so confusing, she felt as if she were being torn
asunder. And she didn’t care for it one bit.

Part of her was being drawn into
his
web, under
his
spell. He had awakened wants and needs and
glorious sensations she’d never imagined. And the other part of
her, the cool, sensible part, was furious. She felt trapped,
vulnerable, for she had begun to let herself care, begun to dream
that he might care for her as well, if only a little—and it wasn’t
true. He cared only for his plan, for their arrangement, for
keeping her in line and under his control.

“
Let me go.”

“Had enough? You’d think a con woman and
thief would be made of sterner stuff.”

“I’ve had more than enough! Being manhandled
by Tiny was plenty for one evening, I don’t need to be manhandled
by you as well. You’re hurting my arm.”

Hell and damnation. He’d forgotten about her
arm. In chagrin Ethan released her with an abruptness that left her
stumbling. He took a step backward, breathing hard, deliberately
putting space between them.

“Go,” he muttered between clenched teeth.
His eyes were narrowed on her shaken face, his whole body tense
with the rigid control it took not to touch her.

“For God’s sake,
go
!”

The shouted command sent her running, her
skirts gathered in one hand. He watched her flee up the walk, push
open the heavy door, and disappear inside.

And slowly, struggling for reason and
control, for understanding of his own dark feelings and behavior,
for
sanity
, Ethan followed.

* * *

Josie tossed her bag, fan, and gloves onto a
chair and rushed to the bureau where she had hidden her precious
pouch beneath layers of silk gloves, shawls, and handkerchiefs. She
dumped the contents into her hands, and clutched the brooch and the
ring tight, as if drawing strength and sustenance from their
glowing forms.

To hell with Ethan Savage! She had a purpose
in being here far more important than this sham she had agreed to
for his sake. And the sooner she was able to leave Stonecliff Park
and this horrible mockery of a marriage behind and commence her
search, the better!

Trembling, she forced her thoughts along a
sensible path. Her brooch and Miss Denby’s ring were part and
parcel of the same set, she was certain of it. What if they were
family jewels? Her family’s jewels? That was far more important
than winning a smile, a kind word, a damned insulting
kiss
from Ethan Savage!

She had to find Alicia Denby.

And she would. She would think about how
best to do that, and forget about Ethan Savage, his conflicts with
his father, and the mysterious past with the woman Oliver Winthrop
had referred to—the very mention of which had driven Ethan to
violence.

She no longer cared!

Pacing like a lioness about her room, she
drove his dark, intensely masculine image from her mind, banished
the gentleness with which he’d carried her to the carriage, the
passion with which he’d kissed her outside only a short while
ago—drowning each memory and feeling in rising waves of cleansing
anger.

Seizing the jewels and stuffing them back
into the pouch, she replaced them in the bottom of the drawer and
somehow managed to undress and fling herself into bed without
allowing herself to reflect another moment upon the wild events of
this night.

Each time a thought of Ethan Savage—of his
words, his arousing touches or deep, wicked kisses—intruded into
her mind, she flung it away.

She would make a fool of herself no more.
And she’d steer clear of him all right. If that’s what he wanted,
that’s exactly what he’d get.

She tensed when she heard him enter the
adjoining bedchamber, but his footsteps came nowhere near her
door.

And at last Josie drifted off to sleep, but
it was a fitful, unhappy sleep, from which she awoke often. And
when she did sleep she dreamed uneasy dreams—blurred, unnerving
visions of Snake and Tiny and Pirate Pete creeping through her
mind.

At one point she screamed, and bolted up,
hugging herself in the darkened room, shivering in the cool
rose-scented night air that floated through the open window. The
silence hummed around her.

And as her heartbeat slowed and the blood
stopped pounding through her head, she realized that she probably
hadn’t screamed aloud at all. It was all a dream. Only a dream.

She’d been dreaming that Snake found her.
He’d trapped her here in this very room, he’d demanded the stolen
loot she’d run off with, and the jewels from the stagecoach
robbery. And he’d jeered at her that she was going to pay for
leaving him—and even more for stealing from him.

The merciless smile on his face had frozen
her blood. And then, in her dream, he’d clenched his fists and his
eyes had glittered with that vicious light she knew so well and
he’d come at her...

Go back to sleep,
she whispered to
herself in the dark, as goose bumps prickled her flesh.
Snake is
far away in America. He has no idea where you are.

It was only a dream.

* * *

Sedalia, Missouri

Penny Callahan beamed across the table at
Rose MacEwen as the two former dance hall girls chatted over
lemonade in the gingham-curtained dining room of Grover’s
Hotel.

“I’m so glad you left the Golden Pistol,
too, Rose. It’s good you got away from Judd Stickley and that whole
life. You’ll like it here in Sedalia, I just know you will.”

“I’ll like it better if I meet a handsome
young farmer like you did,” Rose retorted, laughing. For the first
time in years, her heart was filled with hope and happiness. It had
only taken a letter from Penny telling her of her good fortune in
having met and become engaged to Ben Winters to convince her to try
her luck in a new place, starting a new life.

“It seems like Sedalia’s a real nice town,”
Rose added, glancing out the window at the women bustling along the
boardwalk with children in tow, at the sunny street crowded with
wagons and horses and buggies.

“It is. Oh, it is, Rose. And you’ll meet Ben
tonight. He’s bringing a neighbor along to have supper with us—this
man’s a farmer like Ben. He has the nicest smile. And he wants to
meet my pretty young friend from Kansas.”

“Thanks, Penny.” Rose shrugged, not wanting
to appear too excited. But it would be wonderful to meet a man who
only knew her as Rose’s friend, and not as a dance hall girl. Who
knew what might happen?

“Don’t thank me. Thank Josie Cooper. If it
hadn’t been for her, I’d still be trapped back at the Golden Pistol
taking orders from Judd.”

The fair-haired man at the table behind that
of the two women set his fork down on his plate of boiled mutton
and went still as a stump.

“I know.” Her pixie face solemn, Rose leaned
toward Penny. “I never met anyone like Jo before. She was always
willing to go out on a limb for me, or for any one of us.”

“She gave me the last of her money so I
could take the stage out of town and leave Judd before he knew what
I was doing. If she hadn’t talked me into it and pushed the money
on me, I never would have met my Ben, and Judd would still be...
still be...”