The Cowboy's One Night Bride (7 page)

“Stop your nonsense or I swear, I will spank you in front of the entire town,” he growled. As if to endorse his threat, he planted another resounding hit on her pert bottom. She winced as the blow came into contact with a bruise still fresh from the night before. He grinned as he realized this and rubbed his hand over her bum, as if to soothe the wound. Just as she relaxed her muscles in relief, he slapped her again, extra hard this time. She hissed in pain and went slack all of a sudden. Anthony raised his eyebrows. This was a surprise. They walked in silence for a distance, Gianna lying slack over his shoulders. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He stopped and set her down next to him. Her hands were covering her face and she turned away from him.

“What are you playing at?” he demanded tightly. He had a nagging worry at her sudden lack of fight. They stood there, both not speaking, until finally she lowered her hands from her face. Her cheeks were flushed and tear-stained and her nose was red. Still, it was the expression that shocked him. Rather than the usual fire and hatred, she looked so … broken. He felt a sudden pang of fear. Had he broken her? For some reason, that notion filled him with horror.

“Gianna.”

Without thinking, he drew her towards him and embraced her as she sobbed. Stroking her hair, he held her close, making low, soothing noises.

Standing in the middle of the cornfield, hugging his mail-order bride who he meant to be nothing more than a submissive, was such a ridiculous notion. He couldn’t even wrap his head around it. Yet, somehow, it seemed so right.

What was happening to him?

++++++++

Gianna stepped into the tub, wincing as her battered skin came into contact with the hot water. She felt completely drained, both physically and emotionally.

To say that she had been put through the emotional wringer was an understatement. She finally realized what made him tick, and then the walk outdoors had been so enjoyable. Having lived in the city for most of her life, it was her first experience walking with nature and it was so beautiful. His company somehow didn’t seem so repulsive on the open prairie. The breeze through her hair and the scent of the wildflowers had been invigorating.

And then she had to slip and fall. She couldn’t understand the sudden, desperate need that she felt for him and the unexpected hurt at his rejection. Most of all though, she thought glumly, she hated the self-loathing and utter sense of helplessness when she realized that she had allowed herself to be debased by him. Again. For a moment, lying on the prairie with him, she had allowed herself to consider the possibility of something more with him. A relationship that wasn’t completely built on disgust and shame. Of course, it was just a fool’s notion and boy, had she paid the price for that. Her will to fight had completely crumbled away and she acted like a submissive fool in his presence.

“Arggghh-uh!”

Gianna splashed her hand down in frustration. Water spilled over the sides, staining the mahogany floor. She knew that the brute would gladly use this as a reason to hit her again, but she just couldn’t be bothered. A tear rolled down her cheek. She had left her family and lost all her money in New York only to come to this place,
this man.

In the midst of her self-pity, she felt her tummy rumble a complaint. Of course, she had barely eaten at dinner, opting instead to escape upstairs for some peace before he came to invade it. She wished badly that she could have her own room. There were so many unused ones on the top level of the hotel but she knew that he would never agree to it. As it was, he barely allowed her to bathe alone, and she was horrified at the thought of losing that privilege should she attempt to push her luck about their sleeping arrangements.

As another pang of hunger hit, she decided to sneak down to the kitchen to forage for a snack. Hopefully there were some leftovers from dinner. She drained the water, and dried herself with one of the fluffy white towels before dressing herself in a poncho that managed to pass off as a dress on her petite frame.

Checking her reflection in the mirror, she bit her lip. The poncho sat about five inches beneath her butt and her only pair of pantaloons was still wet.
Oh well, in and out and up, it’ll be fast
, she assured herself. She reached for her leather boots and slipped her feet in. With a little sigh, she started doing up the laces. She longed for her sequined heels but grudgingly accepted that shoes like those would never survive a stroll on Nevada sand. Turning the lights off, she allowed her eyes to adjust to the darkness before groping her way to the door. 

Feeling clandestine, she put her head against the door and listened for the sounds of any activity. The last thing she wanted to do was get caught. Hearing nothing, she opened the door a notch and peeked out. To her delight, the corridor was empty. She closed the door gently and then scurried down the hallway, feeling for all the world like a little mouse. She managed to patter down the three flights of stairs without running into anyone but as she approached the lobby, she knew she had to be more cautious. Thankfully, it was a slow night and other than an elderly man dozing in one of the plush armchairs in the lounge, there was no one about. She slipped into the empty kitchen, suppressing a little chuckle of glee.

She started poking around and managed to find a plate of the ribs served at dinner. They were cold but fragrant, so she gingerly gnawed at them. Despite being a little tough, they were delicious and wonderfully received by her empty stomach. She gave an appreciative moan.

“By gum, ain’t this a treat for sore eyes.”

Gianna jumped violently at the sound. Turning around guiltily, she found herself looking at one of the most dashing men she had ever seen. He was dressed smartly in a pin-striped vest, which he wore over a crisp white shirt. His long legs were clad in a pair of black dress pants. His most notable feature though was his long, raven-toned hair, which he wore in a high ponytail. While it might have looked a tad effeminate on some men, its contrast with the masculine square of his jaw and his thick, broad shoulders was very striking.

He cocked a knowing eyebrow at her, and she realized that she had been staring with the rib still in her mouth. Blushing, she set her plate down with a clatter and surreptitiously attempted to wipe the grease off her lips.

“Pardon me, I wasn’t expecting company this late at night,” she laughed, praying that he wasn’t one of Anthony’s friends who would give her away. The last thing she wanted was to be caught in public wearing that poncho.

The man’s handsome features relaxed into a lopsided grin. She wagered that he was some years older than herself. He sauntered towards her casually, his easy, fluid gait reminding her of a panther. 

“I would have thought that Anthony kept his woman better fed.” He laughed, looking meaningfully at the ribs that she had been devouring. She blushed, knowing that he had witnessed her gluttony. But there was a more pressing matter at hand.

“Oh, urm, are you one of Anthony’s friends? I don’t believe that we’ve met.” Gianna tried for a light tone, even though her heart was pounding at her chest. She could have sworn that the man’s expression darkened at the sound of her husband’s name but the playful twinkle returned so swiftly that she thought she was mistaken.

“The ol’ chap and I go back some ways,” he had a lazy drawl. “The name’s Drake. And may I know the name of his lovely wife?”

Her heart sank. Why did he have to be a friend?

“I’m Gianna. Gianna Delucca.” Her voice sounded tinny to her ears.

“Gianna Delucca.” Her name sounded almost lyrical in his lilting voice. “A beautiful name for a beautiful lady. And why is a beautiful lass like you hiding in the kitchen?”

The adrenaline from the fear put her on a dizzy high, which gave her the idea to brazen her way through.

“Those barbequed ribs were so fabulously delicious that I just had to indulge in more.” She laughed lightly, hoping to goodness that Drake hadn’t been in Anthony’s company before.

Drake raised his eyebrows as he rested on the countertop beside her. His dark caramel face had an exotic slant to it, making her guess that he was at least half Cherokee. Without warning, he touched her bottom lip with a finger, so sensually that it felt like a caress. She jumped at the contact, and he grinned. Raising the finger slowly to his mouth, he sucked on it deliberately and made an appreciative face.

“Delicious.”

There was a subtle innuendo to his words that sent a shiver down her spine. She suddenly became very aware of the bulk of his body beside her petite form. While he was slightly shorter than Anthony, he had a more muscular and youthful physique. She knew that if she had met him under normal circumstances, she would have been smitten.

“Well Miss Delucca, you taste mighty fine. I’ll keep your secret for you if you promise to join me in a game of cards some time.” He stood up and regarded her with a meaningful expression in his coal black eyes. Her eyes widened in alarm.

“Secret?” she stammered. “I, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He laughed. “Well little lady, I was just in jest, but it appears to me that you do have a little something you’d like squirreled away.”

Darn. She tried to make the best of the situation. “Well, you got me. Anthony isn’t fond of me eating after hours, since I have a weak constitution. It’s nothing much, but I don’t want him to worry.”

She felt his eyes sizing her up and tried to hold his gaze. After a moment, his easy smile returned.

“Like I said, I’ll speak no words of our chance encounter. A moment stolen away is a moment treasured, aye.”

He took her hand lightly and bent his head down. Her heart skipped a beat as his lips came into contact with her skin. It was a gentlemanly gesture, but the kiss lingered just a step too long, setting her cold skin ablaze. She blushed.

“Good night, Miss Deluca.” He tipped his hat and turned to leave. Just as he stepped through the door, he paused. “Remember our little pact. I’ll see you around.” And with that promise, he was gone.

Chapter 7

Anthony paused outside the bedroom door, a hand on the doorknob as he balanced the porcelain food tray precariously on the other. “I can’t believe that I’m doing this,” he muttered as he eyed the chinaware critically. A plate of warm toasted bread, a jug of fresh honey and some candles were hardly the romantic gesture. Then again, it had been decades since he had last entered the kitchen, let alone prepare a meal for a lady.

“This is a huge mistake, ” he grumbled rebelliously at the wooden door that stared stoically back. His little bride ought to be punished after a day of misdemeanors, yet here he was, all ready to reward her. For some unfathomable reason, he wanted to see her smile again, or at least, offer her a reason to use her glib wit, just so he knew she was back to normal. It pained him to admit it, but he knew he feared breaking the spirit of his wildcat. Her natural fight electrified him in unexpected ways and he found himself greatly enjoying the challenges she posed.

Sighing, he readjusted his grip on the doorknob and braced himself.
You’re gone all namby-pamby, Anthony
, he wordlessly scoffed.
She’s your wife, you own her. Now go in there and feed her.

With a flush of determination, he pushed the door forward, blinking into the dimness of the room. His little spitfire was nowhere to be seen. Anthony sighed with irritation. After all that trouble that he had gone through, the least she could do was stay awake! He felt his way through the darkness with his free hand and set the tray down on the armoire.

“Gianna,” he hissed in the general direction of the bed. “Are you awake?”

A blatant silence answered him, as petulant and trying as the one he was calling out to. With an impatient huff, Anthony clumsily maneuvered his way over, trying not to slip.

“Little wildcat,” he cooed, patting the thick, fluffy covers none too gently. “I’ve got a little late-night snack for you. Little wildcat?” Feeling nothing beneath the comforter, alarm rose in Anthony’s chest. “Gianna?” He snapped, his anxiety raising the volume of his voice. “GIANNA!” He flipped the covers over.

There was no one there.

Angrily fumbling his way to the oil lamp, he glared around every corner of the room as it filled with light.

She was gone.

Dread exploded in Anthony’s chest, threatening to choke him. Where was she? He stalked over to the window but it was locked.

Fuck
.

He helplessly ran his hands through his hair. Having a horrible thought, he flung open the door to her closet. A quick glance told him that her few items were still intact and her suitcase lay neatly tucked in the corner. A sudden whoosh of breath escaped as he slumped in relief. At least she hadn’t up and left. For a wild, horrible moment, he thought she had packed her bags and left him. She wouldn’t get far of course, and he dreaded what he would have had to do if he caught her. Runaway brides were not well received in Sparks and for some reason, the idea of her locked nude in the stockade in plain sight of all the town’s men was abhorrent to him.

Just as he was trying to banish the unwelcome image, he heard some footsteps outside the room and an awfully familiar voice saying, “Good night to you, Matilda.” Hastily turning off the lamp, he jumped behind the bed and crouched down with every intention of startling his disobedient wildcat.

Just as he ducked out of sight, the door opened, revealing a svelte little figure who emitted a little sigh of relief. “Good, he isn’t here yet.” His lips curled as he formulated a nasty plan. He caught whiff of her light honeysuckle scent as she turned on the lamp and sat on the bed, presumably to remove her shoes. Shifting his weight silently, he waited to see how observant she was. He wasn’t disappointed as he heard a distressed gasp just a moment later.

“
Dio!
” Feeling the weight lift off the bed abruptly, he heard her nervous footsteps as she walked across the room. Rising from his position, he saw her standing with her back towards him as she stared at the dinner tray he had set upon the dresser. He sucked in a breath as he took in her appearance. She was clothed in a woven poncho that barely covered her luscious behind. The tassels lay teasingly against her thighs and he was amused to see that she still had one leather boot on. He felt his pants grow slightly tight around his groin as he silently tiptoed to her.

“Gianna,” he whispered into her ear as he wrapped his arms around her. He tightened his grasp in evil triumph as she jumped violently and let a slew of Italian cuss words fly. Spinning her around in the midst of her tirade, he found himself grinning at the indignant expression on her face.

“And so the errant wildcat returns from her late night misbehaviors,” he drawled, setting his hands upon her hips and drawing her towards him.

“Anthony!” she scolded breathlessly. “I swear you scared me half to death! Why … why were you hiding in the darkness?”

He laughed at the incredulous look on her face. “Well, I was checking under the bed for my lost wife. I don’t suppose you’ve seen her?” he snapped, feeling satisfied as he saw the guilt creep into her beautiful eyes.

“I … I—” She let her gaze drop to the ground as she bit her lip. She looked so adorably lost that he felt the last bit of his alarm dissipate. His relief at holding her in his arms when he had worried that she had run away made him feel benevolent. He gently tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“Well, where did you go?”

She must have been encouraged by his mild tone as she peeked up at him again. Bright green eyes framed by long, dark lashes. She looked beautifully repentant, a look that caused his arousal to awaken.

“I was hungry, and I went down for a snack,” she half whispered. He laughed, obviously taking her by surprise.

“So you thought it would be a good idea to sneak off for a midnight snack, without my permission?”

His heart swelled in greedy anticipation as a flash of irritation lit up her face. He could tell that she was getting ready to fight and he relished the power struggle that was about to ensue.

“Permission? Forgive me, Anthony, but I’m pretty sure that a wife has the right to not starve to death without having to gain the consent of her husband.” She was picking up steam again.

Tilting his head towards the tray, he replied coldly, “A valid point. Which is why I was bringing you supper in bed.”

That made her stop in her tracks. “Supper … in … bed?” Oh, how he enjoyed her confusion. He slipped his hands under the tassels of her poncho, running them lightly over her inner thighs.

“Yes. Supper in bed for my errant wife who decided to cut a caper through my hotel half naked. Tell me, how many heads did you turn on your midnight sojourn?”

As she opened her mouth, he pinched her lightly, turning her protest into a squeal.

“Discourteous wife. And not even an apology.”

He lifted her poncho up and over her head in a swift motion, catching her by surprise. He reveled in the delicious sight before him. Lush, buoyant breasts, a taut stomach which led down to the soft, black curls above her thighs. A sudden idea flashed in his mind as he thought of the large pot of honey he had.

He drew her in and planted a long, unexpectedly deep kiss on her lips. Drawing back from her breathless mouth, he grinned darkly at her and pounced.

++++++++

Gianna gasped as Anthony’s strong arms lifted her off the floor. Her initial trepidation escalated into full-blown alarm. An angry Anthony was something expected, one she had steeled herself for. This half crazed version was something completely new.

“Anthony!” she shrieked as he unceremoniously dumped her on the bed. She felt winded as she landed on the mattress, her limbs flailing in all directions. He undid his red neckerchief and straddled her. Gathering her wrists together, he expertly tied them to the headboard, pulling the fabric so tight that she felt it biting into her skin. She angrily pulled against them.

“What are you playing at, you brute?” Gianna’s irritation rose to a fury as he laughed mockingly. She tried in vain to kick at him as he gracefully hopped off the bed and towards the armoire. She pulled hard against the headboard, but it was to no avail. She was stuck and with her arms in such a compromising position, she felt utterly exposed.

“Calm yourself, little wildcat,” the brute crooned soothingly as he returned with something shiny and metallic in his hands. Pausing her struggle, Gianna strained to see what the foreign object was.

“Handcuffs?” Her heart sank in dread as she took in his dark expression. She snarled and Anthony had the grace to laugh as he caught one of her ankles.

“Yes. Handcuffs for the most crotchety criminal in town,” he crowed as he pulled her down so he could hook her ankle to the vertical column of the bed. Closing the cuff with a decisive click, he reached for her other leg. Gianna hissed in discomfort as he pulled it to the opposite column, spreading her legs as wide as they could go.

“There,” he nodded in satisfaction as he stood up to admire his handiwork. She loathed the dark, amused expression in his eyes as he looked upon her, spread-eagle on the bed.

“Yes, you’ll do,” she felt his eyes all over her, molesting her in unspeakable ways. He walked away, out of her field of vision, and she strained her eyes to see what evil he was up to. She saw him returning with the tray of honey and bread, which he placed on the bed next to her. She stared, confused.

“Seems like a funny time for a snack,” she sneered, trying to cover her discomfort with a dose of bravado that she barely felt. From his triumphant laugh, she knew that it was going to be a long, long night ahead of her and she needed to muster every bit of power she had.

“Oh, little wildcat, you and I both know that you’ve satisfied your own hunger.” He lifted the pot of honey and slowly swirled the dipper around it. “Now, I’m going to see about mine.”

With that promise, he brought the stirrer over her thighs, allowing the honey to drizzle onto them in a warm, sticky stream. She wrinkled her nose in confusion and then twitched as he brought his tongue down to the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. He nibbled her skin lightly as he licked his way along the honey trail, causing her to writhe.

“Mmm … delicious as always. But I think we’re lacking a little something.” Picking up a piece of toast, he crunched noisily as he walked over to the door. Her eyes widened as she called out, “Where are you going?”

To her dismay, he opened the door and shouted, “Mrs. Beauchamp!”

“What are you doing?!” she squealed, pulling at her restraints in absolute alarm. She knew that the four-poster bed was in clear sight from the door and the thought of anyone seeing her like this horrified her.

“Anthony!” she hissed. “Whatever you’re doing, this isn’t funny.”

Ignoring her, he rapped smartly on the door. “Mrs. Beauchamp!” Gianna’s heart sunk when she heard the inevitable reply. “Coming, Mister Davies! I’ll be right with ya!”

“Anthony,” she pleaded desperately. Knowing that the position put her lady parts in blatant display, Gianna was struck with terror. The gentle old lady was the closest thing to a mother figure she had in this place. She could scarcely imagine what the kindly housekeeper would think of her.

“Anthony,” Gianna tried as a last resort, fighting to keep the hysteria out of her voice. “I’ll let you do anything you want to me tonight. Just don’t let her see me like this.”

Finally, Anthony turned towards her; the triumph on his face was astounding. “Just remember,” he whispered, “you said so.” He stepped out and closed the door behind him, just in time as Mrs. Beauchamp hurried over.

Gianna sighed in relief. She could feel beads of sweat forming on her forehead. “Curse and confound him,” she hissed. Once again, that brute had forced her consent out of her. There was something incredibly twisted about how well he manipulated her, as though he knew exactly what made her tick.

Swallowing a scream of frustration, she rattled her body violently against its restraints, which of course served no purpose.
Anthony must have been a fine sheriff in his time
, she thought sourly. His knots and his cursed handcuffs were unyielding.

Just as she was picturing him stewing in a giant pot over the fire, the door opened and he entered with white strips of muslin cloth. Pausing in her sadistic fancy, she wrinkled her nose.

“What are those for?” she snapped.

“I have such plans for you tonight, my wildcat,” he crowed as he sat down next to her. He quirked his mouth suggestively.

“Remember how I told you that I like my women?”

“Bored, angry and suffering?” she spat at him, mustering every muscle in her face into an expression of disdain.

Anthony laughed, his humor lighting up his face. In spite of her obvious irritation with him, she found herself marveling at how young he looked in his mirth. The wrinkles on his forehead were smoothed out and his blue eyes twinkled like sapphire crystals. She could see why the ladies fell at his feet in his youth.

Too bad his happiness was directly linked to her debasement.

“Close, my pet. But no, I like them soft,” he whispered, running his fingers across her bosom, lightly flicking her nipple. “I like them smooth,” he continued as he caressed her tummy. His fingers traveled downwards and twirled the soft curls of her pubic hair. He grinned.