Natchez Flame (20 page)

“I saw you standing at the window the day I rode out.”

“I didn’t think you noticed.”

“I noticed. In my mind, I’ve seen you standing there a thousand times since.”

When she rose on tiptoe and kissed him, Brendan’s fierce response staggered her. His warm lips slanted over hers, his tongue slid hotly between her teeth, and shivers of excitement raced through her, wicked heat that slid through her veins like boiling oil. Her fingers clutched his neck and her nipples grew hard where they pressed against the fabric of his shirt.

Priscilla kissed him back with all the passion she had ever felt, and Brendan’s hands moved down her
body, lighting a fiery trail wherever they touched. Cupping her bottom, he pressed her against the rigid length of him, and Priscilla felt the hardness of his desire.

Cold reality hit her—with such force she could barely stand up. Pushing against the muscles of his chest, she turned her face away and finally broke free.

“Y-you have to leave,” she said, her voice ragged, fresh tears gathering in her eyes. “Before Stuart finds you. You’ve got to go before it’s too late.”

“Listen to me, Priscilla. I know this is not the way to do things. If I hadn’t been such a damned fool—”

“Please, Brendan—”

“I know you think I’m a drifter—and I have been up until now. But I’ve got some money put away—quite a bit, in fact. Years ago I bought some land down on the Brazos—fine land, good soil with plenty of water. We can build a ranch of our own down there. If we run out of money, I’ve got a brother rich as Croesus back in Georgia. He’s been wanting me to settle down for years. He and his wife have offered to back me more than once.” He cupped her chin with his hand. “We’ll have those kids you want—a whole parcel, if that’s what makes you happy.”

“Oh, God,” Priscilla cried, “please don’t say anymore.”

“Damn it, Priscilla, you’re making this even tougher than I figured—I’m askin’ you to marry me.”

She only shook her head. “You don’t understand.”

“I know I should have asked you sooner, but a man needs a little time to get used to the idea.”

Priscilla clutched the front of his shirt, her knuckles
white with tension. “I can’t,” she whispered brokenly, “I can’t marry you.”

Brendan set her away from him, holding her at a distance so he could read her face. “Is it the money? You said money wasn’t the reason, that a husband and family were more important.”

“It—It isn’t the money.”

“You can’t mean to say you’re in love with him. You haven’t known him that long.”

She only shook her head. “I can’t marry you—because I’m already married.” She held out her trembling fingers, the blood-red rubies gleaming with accusation in the light of the flickering candles.

Brendan’s face grew taut. “When?”

“Tonight. Just a few hours ago. He’ll be here any minute to claim his husbandly rights. You’ve got to leave before he finds you here.”

“Why did you do it?” he breathed, beginning to get angry. “Couldn’t you have waited, at least till you got to know him a little?”

“I wanted to wait. Stuart wouldn’t hear of it. I thought you were gone for good; I had no money, no place to go—Oh, God, Brendan, why did this have to happen?”

Brendan raked a hand through his hair. For the first time he noticed her skimpy lace peignoir and delicate white nightgown. He reached out a hand and curled it roughly into the lace. “Egan buy you this?”

She nodded.

“That bastard.” Brendan walked to the window, his fists balled tightly at his sides. He stared grimly through the opening, out at the stars and the blackness.
“The thought of him putting his hands on you makes me sick. It’s all I can do not to go down those stairs and call him out.”

“Please, you’ve got to go.” He turned to face her. “He owns everything and everyone around him. You aren’t safe here.”

“And now he owns you.”

Priscilla’s eyes slid closed against a wave of pain. “Yes.”

“Goddamn him.”

“If I had believed for a moment you cared about me … that there was the slightest chance you’d come back …”

“How could you know?” he said harshly. “I didn’t know it myself.”

It was all she could do not to go to him. To let him hold her and kiss her and say those beautiful words again. Instead she stayed where she was. His life was in danger, more so every moment. “You’ve got to go. Time is running out.”

Brendan just stared at her, as if memorizing the details of her face. “I left you before and lived to regret it.”

“I’m married to Stuart,” she reminded him, fighting the ache in her throat. “There’s nothing we can do.”

Brendan grabbed her shoulders and kissed her hard. Priscilla clutched his neck, and Brendan’s hold grew tighter.

Then he broke away. Turning, he strode to the window. One long leg disappeared over the sill and he turned to look outside. For a moment he just sat there, half in and half out of the window.

Priscilla held her breath, torn between wanting him safe and desperately wanting him to stay.

Then he swung to face her one last time. “I’ve got to know, Priscilla … if I’d asked you before, would you have said yes?”

She tried to speak, but her throat had closed up and the words wouldn’t come. Fresh tears trickled down her cheeks.

“Take your time, Silla. This just may be the most important question you ever answer.”

Priscilla wet her lips. “I would have been proud to be your wife.”

Brendan hesitated only a moment. His long leg slid over the sill and he stepped back into the room. “Grab something to wear, put on your shoes, and let’s go.”

“What!”

“So far this marriage is nothing but words. It hasn’t been consummated and until it is, we can get it annulled. We’ll ride back to Corpus, then go to Galveston. They’ve got lawyers there, someone who can help us. All we’ve got to do is get away.”

While Priscilla stood gaping, Brendan threw open the door to the big rosewood armoire, tossed out her sturdy brown shoes, and one of her dresses. Opening a bureau drawer, he pulled out a handful of under-things and tossed them onto the bed.

“What about Stuart?” Priscilla asked.

“Write him a note. There’s probably some paper in that desk in the corner.”

“But I—”

Brendan’s hard look stopped her. “It’s Egan or me, Priscilla. Make up your mind.”

I love you.
“I want to go with you.”

Brendan’s stance relaxed and he broke into a grin. “Then shake your pretty little bottom, sweetness. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover in the next few days.”

For the first time since she’d reached Rancho Reina, Priscilla really smiled. “I’d better get dressed.”

“Sorry, baby, time for that later.” He threw back the counterpane, pulled off a blanket, and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Just write that note, put on your shoes, and let’s go.”

As she hurried to the desk, grabbing her locket and sliding off the heavy ruby ring, Priscilla’s smile grew wider. This was one order she didn’t mind following at all.

“Are you sure you can make it?” Brendan eyed the primrose trellis he had climbed up on. “I can carry you over my shoulder.”

“I can make it. The sooner we leave this place, the better I’ll like it.”

That made him smile. God, how he loved the sound of those words. “Just be careful. Hand me the blanket. You can put it back on once we’re down.”

She did as he said, and he noted the tempting sight she made in her skimpy white negligee. Long chestnut hair hung in waves that nearly touched her waist and her breasts peeped up at him, luscious dark circles beckoning through the lace. In contrast, her sturdy little shoes reminded him of the prim and proper lady she was and the contrast made him
smile. He wanted just to hold her, to tell her how much he cared.

If he played his cards right, there’d be time for that later.

Checking to be sure the perimeter guards weren’t near, Brendan started climbing down the trellis, keeping a watch on Priscilla, who descended above him. The way the nightgown outlined the shapely curve of her bottom, it was all he could do not to reach up and touch her.

Once he stood on the ground, he did, his hands surrounding her waist to help her down. God, how he loved the feel of her.

“Nothing to it,” Priscilla said with a grin.

She looked radiant instead of pale, and Brendan’s heart turned over. “Stand still,” he commanded, but couldn’t keep the warmth from his voice. He drew his knife from his boot, sliced a hole in the center of the blanket, and pulled it over her head. “Let’s go.”

Holding hands, they moved through the darkness to the wall surrounding the compound. Brendan lifted Priscilla over, then vaulted over himself. Avoiding the sentry, who had just rounded the corner out of sight, they crept along the wall until they reached a gully that carried them out of view and back to where his big black horse was tied.

He patted the animal’s nose, calling him Blackie. Hell, it was as good a name as any.

He turned to Priscilla. “It’ll be easier on the horse if you ride behind me.” He lifted her onto a rock, mounted the horse, then swung Priscilla aboard. Her slender arms slid around his waist.

“We’ll travel the ravine bottom for as long as we
can.” He urged Blackie forward, and the big horse responded instantly, perking up his ears and moving off with long, sure strides.

Behind him, Priscilla’s soft breasts pushed into his back, and he felt a stirring in his loins. When she rested her head on his shoulder, he could feel her trembling.

“Are you cold?”

He felt the shake of her head. “I’m just a little bit nervous. I don’t mind telling you, this is the craziest thing I’ve ever done and I’m scared to death.”

Brendan smiled into the darkness. “Sorry?” It felt good just to be near her. She smelled of lilacs, and wisps of her long dark hair grazed his cheek.

“No.”

Another brief smile, this one relieved. “What did you say in the note?”

“I told him I was sorry for all the trouble I’d caused, that I would be seeking an annulment, and I asked him to try to understand.”

“You don’t really believe he will, do you?”

“I doubt it. What do you think?”

“I think he’ll come after us with a vengeance. Probably tonight. That’s why we’re going to hole up till morning—right under his nose. Tomorrow we’ll set out for Corpus, covering our trail, of course.”

“How do we do that?”

“Backtrack, tie some brush to the saddle horn, travel in the streambeds and gullys. I’ve got at least a dozen tricks up my sleeve.”

She snuggled against his warmth, and Brendan felt a glow of satisfaction. The stirring in his loins grew more pronounced. He’d thought of nothing but
Priscilla Mae Wills since the moment he’d ridden away from the Triple R. From the moment he’d left her, he’d felt a hollow, aching loneliness unlike anything he had experienced. It had been obvious from the start, though he had been too blind to see it, that where this woman was concerned, he was in very big trouble.

And stealing Stuart Egan’s wife right from under his nose was the least of it.

Priscilla must have fallen asleep against Brendan’s shoulder because she awoke when he reined up the horse.

“Where are we?” she asked as he lifted her to the ground.

“Not far from the ranch. I’ve circled around to a place I spotted on my way out the other day. I shot a rabbit and when I went to pick it up, I found an arroyo hidden by brush.”

“We’ve gone north instead of south?”

“Tomorrow we’ll head south. Tonight I’m going back to watch the ranch. As soon as Egan rides out, I’ll be back.”

Priscilla clutched the front of his shirt. “I want to go with you.”

“I wish you could, but I might need to cover some ground in a hurry. I’ll roll out the bedroll so you can sleep. You’ll be safe here till I get back.”

She thought of the last time he’d left her alone on the prairie, of the Indians and what they’d almost done. She thought of the rattlesnake and her near brush with death. She was frightened—and for the first time unsure. “I don’t like being out here alone.”

“And I don’t like leaving you. If there was any other way I wouldn’t. I’ll leave you my pistol. You remember how to fire it, don’t you?”

Priscilla paled. The Indian’s bloody face rose up before her, half blown away by her shot. “I, don’t want it,” she whispered, barely able to speak. Though she willed herself not to, she started to shiver.

Brendan’s hard arms came around her, pulling her close. He read the look on her face and knew in a flash she was thinking about the Indians.

“It’s all right, baby. We’ll stay here together. If we’re careful, it won’t make a damn what Egan does.” He tipped her chin with his hand. “Sometimes I take a little too much for granted. When we reach our place on the Brazos, there’ll be time for you to learn the things you’ll need to know. I’ll show you how to handle a gun and—”

“Will you teach me to ride a horse?”

He smiled at that. “Sidesaddle, like a lady, or astride?”

“Both,” Priscilla said staunchly, remembering the way Stuart had enjoyed her lack of independence.

“I’ll teach you all about the land and the animals. I know you’re going to love it here as much as I do.”

I hope so
, she thought. “I’ll love being with you.”

“God, Priscilla.” Brendan buried his face in her hair. His lips found her shoulder, then moved along her throat. He nibbled an earlobe, then fastened his mouth on hers in a searing, possessive kiss that made her knees go weak.

Lord in heaven, when Brendan kissed her like that, her fears didn’t matter. She knew she would follow
him anywhere. His hands cupped her face, and he kissed her long and hard, then he broke away.

“If we’re going to stay here, I’d better tend to Blackie and fix a place for us to sleep.”

In minutes he had leveled the earth, picking up any loose rocks, and laid out a neat little place to rest. It wasn’t really wide enough for two, she noted, but it was the best he could do with what little gear they had.

“I’ll need your blanket,” he said with a look she couldn’t quite read. When she pulled it over her head and handed it to him, leaving her in just the lacy nightclothes, his pale blue eyes turned dark in the light of the moon.