The Outlaws: Rafe (10 page)

"We can't do this, Rafe."

"Your body tells me differently.
 
I know when a woman is aroused.
 
You want me as badly as I want you."

"No...I..."

Her words died in her throat as Rafe swept her into his arms and deposited her on the bed.
 
He followed her down, holding her body in place with his.

"Remember how I caressed you and kissed your breasts the other day?" he murmured against her ear.
 
"I want to do all that and more...much more."

His hand delved beneath her skirts.
 
Angela felt his rough palm slide up her leg, lifting her skirts with it.
 
He grinned up at her, then lowered his head and covered her mouth with his.
 
He kissed her until she was breathless, until dizziness made her giddy.
 
When he finally released her mouth, she sucked in a shaky breath and murmured his name.

"Rafe..."

Her voice rose on a note of panic.
 
"I can't think when you're kissing me.

"Don't think, just feel."

Held suspended by the wealth of feelings thrumming through her, she watched in trepidation as he untied her petticoats and pulled them down her legs, stared dumbly as he swiftly removed her remaining clothing.
 
She had no time to contemplate her nakedness as Rafe lifted a firm breast in his hand and took her nipple into his mouth.
 
She cried out in surprise, arching against him.
 
His lips drifted lower, leaving a trail of fire down her body.
 
He pressed hot kisses to her stomach.
 
She tensed and shifted restlessly beneath his tormenting mouth.
 
She had no idea such intense feelings were possible between men and women.

"Angel...Angel, God you're beautiful."

He shifted slightly.
 
She heard the dull thud of his boots; then his trousers hit the floor.
 
Her eyes slammed shut; she refused to look at him.
 
But she let herself touch.
 
Naughty though it might be, she rested her palms on his chest.
 
She heard his breath hitch.
 
Beneath her questing hands, muscles bunched, shifted, then set.
 
Encouraged, her hands roamed wider, over smooth expanses of chest, tight and hard and roughened by crisp hair, then over impossibly wide shoulders.

"You're driving me crazy," Rafe rasped hoarsely.

Then his hand drifted between her legs and her eyes flew open.
 
She felt the heavy weight of his sex prodding her softness and nearly swooned when his fingers opened her and caressed her most sensitive, private place.
 
A jolt of pure pleasure shot through her.
 
With his hand caressing her there and his mouth suckling her nipples, she felt as if her bones were melting.

An unfamiliar pressure was building inside her as excitement intensified.
 
Her senses focused on his wicked fingers sliding inside her, slowly moving in and out.
 
She felt the invasion keenly, felt it clear to her soul.
 
Then he did something with his thumb, touched a place so sensitive it sent her spinning out of control.
 
She arched against his hand, shoving his fingers deeper, writhing against him, moaning shamelessly as pleasure rocked her.

"That's it, Angel, let it come," Rafe whispered raggedly.
 
"Ah, love, who would have thought you'd have so much passion inside that small body."

Angela felt herself drifting amid the stars as tiny tremors burst inside her.
 
Her wits returned slowly, and when they did, her gaze found Rafe.
 
He was bending over her, watching her closely, his silver eyes glittering with excitement.

"Did you like that?"

"I...what happened?"

"You experienced sexual fulfillment for the first time.
 
It can get better than that, Angel, much better."

Angela's brow furrowed.
 
She knew nothing of sexual matters.
 
Her mother had never mentioned the things that went on in the marriage bed, and the poor woman had been too sick to explain had Angela expressed curiosity.

"Did you feel pleasure?" Angela asked.

"My pleasure was giving you pleasure.
 
My satisfaction will come later, when I put myself inside you.
 
It will be painful for you the first time for you're still a virgin, but it will get better each time we make love."

"Make love?"
 
She mulled that over for the space of a heartbeat, then shook her head, "But you don't love me and I don't love you."

"Men and women don't always have sex because they love one another.
 
They do it for gratification."

Angela sat up abruptly and pulled a corner of the bed cover over her.
 
"I'm not that kind of woman."

"You liked what I did to you.
 
We're married, for godsake!"

"We won't be married for long.
 
It would be improper to seek enjoyment from a marriage neither of us wanted or intends to honor.
 
You're running from something, Rafe, and I don't think you need a wife right now."

"How did you get so astute?" Rafe said, pushing himself to his feet."

 
Angela stared at him for a suspenseful moment then averted her eyes, dazzled by the magnificence temptingly displayed before her.
 
There wasn't an ounce of fat on Rafe's well-honed body.
 
Sculpted muscles, narrow waist and long sturdy legs.
 
When he turned away and pulled on his trousers, she wasn't surprised to note that his buttocks appeared as hard and unyielding as his chest.
 
It was a sight she wouldn't forget any time soon.

 
"You're absolutely right," Rafe contended.
 
"A wife is the last thing I need.
 
I have nothing to offer a wife.
 
Not a nickel to my name or a roof over my head.
 
I'll see you to the Golden Angel, then move on."

Fully dressed now, he strode toward the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Obviously neither of us will get any sleep if I stay here tonight.
 
I don't trust myself to be alone with you.
 
Sharing a bed without...I just can't do it.
 
I'll sleep in the stable behind the hotel."
 
He picked up his saddlebags and threw them over his shoulder.
 
"I'll meet you in the dining room at eight tomorrow morning."

"Rafe.
 
I'm sorry.
 
Fate played a dirty trick on us.
 
In any other scenario we would have never met, much less marry.
 
I felt the need to save your life, that's all it amounted to.
 
I don't want there to be any apologies when we part.
 
If I let you make love to me, there's bound to be regrets on both our parts."

"Speak for yourself, Angel.
 
I have no regret about anything that passed between us.
 
But if you're so determined to remain a virgin, I wish you joy of your empty bed tonight.
 
Sleep well."

His expression was shuttered, his eyes so bleak that Angela felt her heart constrict.

"Rafe, wait!"

He paused, his hand on the doorknob.

"I...nothing.
 
Never mind.
 
I'll see you in the morning."

The door opened and closed, then he was gone.
 
Strangely bereft, Angela felt a lump gathering in her throat.
 
What in the world was wrong with her?
 
She wasn't the kind of woman to have a sexual relationship simply for the pleasure of it.
 
She didn't know what had gotten into her.
 
She'd allowed Rafe to kiss and caress her, to give her forbidden ecstasy.
 
Her mother had raised her to know the difference between good and bad, but she never realized bad could feel so good.

If she thought there was a chance for her and Rafe to have a normal marriage she'd be tempted to let him make love to her.
 
But unfortunately she saw nothing to indicate she and Rafe had a future together.
 
More important was the sure knowledge that if she let Rafe love her, her life would never be the same.

Rafe found a an empty stall in the stable and bedded down.
 
He rolled up in a saddle blanket he found in the stall and rested his head on his saddlebags.
 
Despite his best effort, sleep eluded him.
 
His body was sexually aroused, unsatisfied, and still pulsing.
 
Thinking about Angel did nothing to alleviate his painful condition.
 
Come to think of it, being as hard as stone had become a natural state since meeting his Angel.

But she wasn't his Angel, was she?
 
She might temporarily carry his name but that didn't make her his.
 
Damn, he was thinking with his cock instead of his head.
 
He had nothing to offer Angel.
 
Not even his good name.
 
One day she would find a wanted poster with his picture on it and think the worst.
 
It was best he left now, before the law caught up with him.
 
The last thing he wanted was to make more problems for Angel.

Just when Rafe thought the night would never end, a gray dawn colored the night sky.

They met in the dining room the next morning.
 
After devouring a hearty breakfast, Rafe went for the wagon while Angela packed her nightclothes and few belongings in her carpetbag.
 
Rafe was waiting for Angela at the curb when she stepped out the door and onto the sidewalk.
 
The day was exceptionally fine.
 
A light breeze blew down from the mountains and the sun shone brightly in a cloudless sky.

Rafe lifted Angela onto the seat and took up the reins.

"You really don't have to come with me, you know," Angela said.
 
"I'm sure I can find my own way to the Golden Angel."

"The least I can do is see you safely to your destination.
 
As you reminded me last night, you did save my life.
 
Only an ungrateful wretch wouldn't return the favor.
 
I know you're itching to be rid of me, and you'll get your wish soon enough."

Angela gnawed on her bottom lip.
 
She should have expected Rafe's sarcasm, but somehow it sounded harsh and accusatory coming from his lips.

"Rafe.
 
About last night.
 
I'm sorry."

"You already said that."

"Then I'll say it again.
 
I want you to understand..."

"I do understand, Angel.
 
More than you know.
 
Ah, here's where we turn off to the mine.
 
It shouldn't be far now."

Angela's eyes glowed.
 
"Yes!
 
It's been a long time but I recognize the road.
 
I traveled it often with my father."

The wagon traveled steadily upward, wobbling from side to side over a rutted trail.
 
Thick forests rose majestically on towering mountainsides; a canopy of dappled shadows and sunlight.
 
In some places the track was narrow and steep, with one side falling away abruptly to nothing.
 
Angela drank in the magnificent view featuring snow-capped mountains, dark green forests and clear blue skies, giddy with delight as memories of happy times with her father assailed her.

"There it is!" Rafe cried, pointing to a narrow track and a sign posted beside it that read, "The Golden Angel."

A sob caught in Angela's throat.
 
"The sign is still there, I was with Father when he made it.
 
He always called me his angel."

Rafe deftly turned the horses into the road.
 
The gaping mouth of the mine sat at the end of the narrow lane.
 
Activity was in full swing.
 
Rafe counted four men busily engaged in various tasks and an empty car sitting on a track leading into the bowels of the mine.
 
From what Rafe could gather, the Golden Angel was a good-sized operation.
 
Two sturdy cabins, built to withstand the harshest winters, stood side by side at the far end of the site, backed up against a wooded hillside.
 
Angela stared at the larger cabin that had once been her home.

While Rafe took in the lay of the land, a man detached himself from a group of men standing beside the cable car and ambled toward them.

"Are you lost, mister?
 
This is the Golden Angel mine.
 
We don't see many strangers up here.
 
There's nothing beyond the mine but trees and more mountain."