TheSurrenderofLacyMorgan (6 page)

Mesmerized, she watched his fingers work. With each button
he closed, he brushed her already sensitive flesh, sending heat coursing
through her body to the junction of her thighs once more. How could the simple
act of this man dressing her be as sensual to her as when he’d ordered her to
strip the day before?

“Your mama was a whore, and you’re gonna be one for me
someday.”

Were Devil’s words true? After her response to Quinn and
Dakota last night and her body’s reactions to Quinn this morning, the prophecy
might be coming true.

“You know, this trip doesn’t have to be an unpleasant one. Just
prove we can trust you and you might find you’ll enjoy more freedoms.” Warm
breath smelling of chicory coffee fanned across her cheeks and neck. His words
suggested he meant more than just riding unbound as a freedom.

She swallowed the shame down hard and fought to keep back
her tears. The effort helped cool down her traitorous body. She would not give
in to Devil’s words, and she would find a way to fight her two captors.

“I won’t run, if that’s what you mean. But I won’t help you
take me back to die at my stepfather’s hands.”

“Why do you think he’ll kill you?”

“No one betrays him and lives to tell about it.” And she’d
betrayed him in the one way that mattered most to Devil Morgan.

“Because you left him?”

She nodded. She couldn’t tell these men the awful things
she’d done or why Devil meant to finish what he started the night before she
left.

He arched a brow and stepped back. Cradling his rifle in one
hand and grasping her by the elbow with the other, he led her around the doused
campfire toward the trees. “Then we’ll just have to continue to coax the
information out of you.”

At a small cropping of bushes near a large evergreen, he
stopped and pulled her hands up in front of her, slowly untying the knot in the
leather thong. “You have five minutes to do what’s necessary. Don’t think about
running. I won’t hesitate to come in after you.”

Not doubting that he meant every word, she stepped behind
the bush to take care of her morning needs. Heat filled her face when she knew
he was close enough to hear her, but necessity won out over modesty. Lucky for
her he hadn’t insisted on watching.

Or had he? It was something Devil’s men would have no shame
doing. She finished quickly and popped up like a prairie dog out of its hole,
expecting to catch him staring right at her.

Instead he stood several yards away, his rifle cradled in
his arms and his back turned to her as if he were protecting her rather than
guarding her. Strangely that idea eased some of her embarrassment, but it
didn’t fool her for a moment. She knew if she tried to sneak off he or Dakota
would run her to ground. No matter how they touched her, she was nothing more
than a prisoner to them.

As she stepped out of the bushes, he turned and approached.
With a nod he led her farther into the trees, then handed her a pair of her
silk drawers. “You’ll need these for today’s ride. There’s a small stream back
there, if you want to wash your hands and face.”

“Thank you.” She imagined she must look like a vagabond from
her ride and captivity the night before.

Quinn’s thoughtfulness surprised her. Never would Devil or
any of his men think to show a small kindness to a prisoner, and never to her.
Well, except for Santos, the son-of-a-bitch lothario. But then again, he’d only
shown her kindness, and then passion, in order to get what he wanted—her as
part of Devil’s gang.

You fool. Isn’t Quinn doing the same thing?

Yes. But he hadn’t lied about their intent or hidden behind
pretty words. Despite their tactics, he’d been honest from the moment they’d
stepped into her cabin. There was no talk of love, no promises of a future,
other than the one at the end of a noose if she didn’t cooperate. And his
honesty was at least something she could respect.

At the small stream, she stepped into her undergarments,
then lifted her split skirt to the side and tucked the ends behind her knees as
she squatted. She leaned in and splashed her hands, the cold water sending
shivers through her. Then she scooped up sand and scrubbed them as clean as she
could. Once her hands felt clean, she scooped up water and washed her face,
lightly rubbing her hands over her cheeks, blinking and trying to rub the water
from her eyes.

“Here.”

Quinn’s voice right beside her startled her. She looked up
to see him handing her a kerchief.

“To wipe your face,” he said when she didn’t automatically
take it.

She reached for it, her fingers brushing his warm firm ones,
her nipples puckering at the sensation as if they remembered his touch from
last night. His intense blue gaze held her captive for a moment, then she
lowered her eyes as she pulled the kerchief free to dry her face.

After washing and drying her neck, she stood, letting her
skirt fall back over her legs and handed him back the cloth. “Thank you.”

He nodded, then stepped back for her to precede him back
through the trees to their horses. She noticed there were only two. Dakota’s
red roan was missing.

“Where is Dakota?”

A chuckle sounded behind her. “He always wakes up hungrier
than a bear in spring. Said if you were going to sleep half the day away, he might
as well go to the next town for more supplies.”

“Half the day? The sun is barely over the horizon. And Red
Lodge is half a day’s ride from here. That must be some powerful hunger he
had.”

“You’d be surprised what Dakota would do for buttermilk
biscuits.” Quinn chuckled harder as he stopped her in front of the horses.
After he sheathed his rifle in the leather strap on his saddle, he reached for
her hands, bringing them together as he had the day before.

“Please don’t.” She tried to pull them away but he gripped
them firmly in one hand and wrapped the leather thong around them once more.
Not quite as tight as the day before.

“Sweetheart, I might trust you on your feet, but after
yesterday’s wild ride, I’m not about to let you go unbound on your horse.” Finished,
he leaned in close. “You are an excellent rider.”

The deep, soft rasp of his words suggested he was
complimenting more than her horsemanship. Her body reacted with a coiling
tension deep in her womb that spread down to her nether lips. She squeezed her
thighs together to ease the sudden ache.

How was she ever to survive this trip with them, if simple
words and touches had her sex swelling like a flower ripe for the plucking?

“Ready to mount?”

He couldn’t mean what she thought, could he? She blinked to
see him cupping his hands to assist her onto her horse, a smug smile on his
lips as if he’d known the direction her thoughts had taken.

Grinding her teeth in frustration, she looped her hands over
the pommel and stepped into his hands. Her split skirt fell to the side,
revealing her naked leg. As she swung her other leg over the saddle she was
hotly aware his face was mere inches from her sex. Even with the thin barrier
of her silk drawers covering her from his gaze, memories of him stroking her
there the night before flashed in her mind.

Once she was settled, he slid his hand up her leg to her
knee, leaving a trail of awareness on her skin, his deep blue gaze holding
hers. “We’ll meet Dakota outside of Red Lodge.” His grip tightened on her knee.
“Don’t try to escape into town. You won’t find many who’d cross two marshals,
even to help a woman.”

“I learned that lesson a long time ago, Marshal.” She
focused her attention on the trees, not wanting Quinn to realize how alone she
truly was in this world.

To her left she heard Quinn mounting his horse. He leaned
over and grabbed her reins. “Good. Let’s go.”

Without further comment, he headed toward Red Lodge. About
two hours later and a mile southwest of the town, Dakota sat waiting for them,
seated on his mount. He was so still he seemed to be part of the landscape, yet
aware of everything around him.

Once again she was struck by how uniquely different both her
captors were. Quinn reminded her of a stick of dynamite the miners used to
clear holes in the earth—strong, lean and dangerous. Dakota, on the other hand,
made her think of a wild cougar she saw once just before it attacked its
prey—powerful, raw and seductive.

What romantic nonsense. Damn, she sounded like one of her
students. Falling into infatuation with the first men who paid attention to
her. Hadn’t she learned her lesson with Santos? These men might not be as cruel
or base as Devil and his men, but they were no less ruthless. It was in her
best interest to keep that in mind.

“Did you get everything we’ll need?” Quinn asked as they
stopped to rest a moment.

Dakota nodded, opening the bundle on his lap and handing
Quinn a biscuit loaded with thick slabs of cooked bacon. “The local
boardinghouse owner was quite happy to sell me something hot for breakfast. The
storekeeper wasn’t happy about getting out of bed early on a Sunday to get our
supplies. At least not until he heard the coins in my hand.”

He pulled out a second biscuit and held it out to Lacy. “Can
you handle this, pet? Or should I feed you again?”

His deep voice stirred the memories of the night before.
Tension coiled inside her at the suggestion, both nipples drawing taut and
pressing against the thin material of the camisole.
Get hold of yourself!
Lacy pulled her hands free of the pommel. “I can handle it.”

The two men exchanged looks, then Dakota settled the biscuit
in her cupped hands. “I’m sure you can.”

Heat flushed her cheeks and neck.

Carefully, she took a bite of the precious food.
Heaven.
Each bite more delicious than the last.

When she’d completely finished, Dakota held his canteen to
her lips while she drank. As he pulled it away, a small drop fell from her lips
to land on the exposed skin leading to the valley between her breasts. “Thank
you.”

He raised his eyes from watching the path of the water.
“It’s my pleasure.”

“If you two are finished, we’re burning daylight,” Quinn
interrupted, giving a tug on the reins to Lacy’s horse. She grabbed the pommel
at the sudden movement to keep from falling off.

Occasionally talking or looking back to check on her, the
men rode tandem while leading her horse as if it were a pack mule carrying
supplies. And yet she knew they were very aware of her presence at all times.
The hours passed with nothing more than a soaring hawk or two crossing their
path. As the sun rose higher, the morning chill left her body. Between the
rocking motion and the sun’s warmth Lacy’s mind wandered back to the night
before.

Even as her body tingled from the memories, something
puzzled her. They’d lavished her with every word, touch, deed until she’d
exploded and yet neither had used her body for their own pleasure. Was that
next on their list of special tortures? Or did they plan to keep her wondering
what it would be like to have them claim her body completely? And why did the
idea make her want to find out the answer? No woman wanted two men, at least no
self-respecting woman. Maybe she was her mother’s daughter after all.

* * * * *

Several hours after stopping for a meal, then riding farther
south toward the mountains, Dakota glanced over his shoulder at Lacy. She
seemed lost in her own thoughts, letting her horse follow Quinn’s lead without
a fight. “How’s she doing today?”

“Confused. Feisty as hell,” Quinn replied with a glance back
at her. “Said she wasn’t going to help us take her back to Devil. She says
he’ll kill her.”

“You don’t believe her?”

Quinn shrugged. “Who knows? We’ve both seen women who will
say anything to save their own hide. A woman bank robber probably lies worse
than the others.”

He had a point. Over the years, they’d seen every kind of
woman—from tight-lipped spinsters to saloon girls—try to manipulate them to get
their way, usually meaning a fun time in their beds. But something in the way
Lacy had begged him to free her yesterday, then tried to resist their sweet
torture last night, rang true to him. “I think she believes Devil Morgan will
kill her if we hand her over.”

“That’s a chance we’ll have to take. She’s the key to
finding Devil’s hangout and getting us close enough to take him.”

“You’d use her, even if it meant her death?”

Quinn shot him a hard look. “You’d put her life over
avenging the Captain’s death? After what he did for us? For you?”

Dakota narrowed his eyes at his blood brother. “Dammit. You
know I want his killer as much as you. But the Cap wouldn’t want us to put an
innocent’s life at risk for vengeance.”

“And I’m telling you, she’s not innocent. She’s up to her
pretty little neck in this. A woman doesn’t live among a nest of vipers as long
as she did without getting bit or turning into one.”

The death of their surrogate father had hit Quinn—hell, both
of them—hard. The need to reach out and squash the life from the vermin that
had stolen a good man from the earth gnawed at both of them. Despite his
callous words about their prisoner’s life, he knew inside Quinn’s heart, honor
wouldn’t let him hand her over to their enemy. At least not to be killed.

“If you say so,” he replied, giving Quinn a doubting look,
the kind that always made his blood brother think.

Quinn shook his head. “We have a long trip ahead of us.
Plenty of time to discover just how innocent or not she is.”

“You think she’ll still try to run?”

“She said she wouldn’t.”

“So why bind her again?”

“It reinforces to her that she’s our prisoner.” Quinn
smiled. “Besides, I liked it last night.”

“Evil bastard.”

“And you didn’t?”

“Hell yes.”

They laughed.

Quinn sobered first. “She grew up living with Devil and his
men. Loyalty is keeping her from giving us the exact location of the camp.”