This Fierce Splendor (29 page)

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Authors: Iris Johansen

BOOK: This Fierce Splendor
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“Stop!” He was suddenly beside her, pushing her back on the blanket. He had tossed his hat aside and she could see what had been hidden in its shadow. Her breath left her body and heat turned her bones soft and melting. His chest labored with the harshness of his breathing and a pulse pounded wildly in the hollow of his throat. “I can’t imagine any of those things. I don’t know anything about Atlantis or Kantalan. I don’t even want to know. All I want is you.” His lips covered hers with a fervor that brought no pain. His arms closed around her with desperation, his hands tangling in her hair as he moved over her. His lips worked swiftly, feverishly, draining her of strength in a hundred kisses that robbed her of breath and made her head spin.

“No!” she murmured. “I don’t want this.”

“Yes, you do,” he muttered. “We both do.” His tongue plunged into her mouth, stroking her with warmth. Lowering his hips, he moved slowly, yearningly, against her.

She gasped, a shiver tingling through her. Maybe he was right. Maybe she did want this to happen, she thought dazedly. It was difficult to decide with this haze of heat enclosing her. Dominic’s fingers were swiftly unbuttoning her blouse, pushing down the straps of her chemise. She should stop him.

Her breasts were swollen, hurting as they had the night they’d ridden back to Hell’s Bluff. She gazed up at Dominic’s face in helpless fascination. His sun-gilded skin was flushed, his lips drawn back from his teeth in a feral grimace. Slowly he pulled down the bodice of her chemise and looked at her. Something strange began to happen to her then. Her nipples were turning hard, rosy, tight, and she had a wild urge to lift herself, offer her breasts to the man looking at them with such hunger. But she didn’t have to offer,
his dark head was lowering slowly and his breath came out in a low groan.

“This is what I’ve wanted to do a thousand times in the last few weeks,” he said hoarsely. “I wanted to get rid of these damn clothes and look at you.” His hand closed on her left breast and his palm tightened around it, throwing the pink crest into pointed prominence. “I wanted to make you bloom for me.” His mouth enveloped her, his lips sucking strongly as if to pull the nectar from a honey-sweet flower.

Fire. In her veins, in the soles of her feet, in the air flowing through her lungs. She cried out, her spine arching up to him.

He was murmuring thickly, feverishly, as his tongue gently teased the nipple he had brought to life and subjugation. “I want to know that all I have to do is reach out and touch you and this will happen.” His hand wandered down her body. “Spread your legs, love. I want to feel how soft you are down there.” His palm gently rubbed between her thighs. She tensed, inhaling sharply. The material separating them was a pitifully inadequate barrier against the warm hardness and fiery friction. “I dream about you, do you know that? I dream I’m looking at this pretty part of you and I remember how you felt against my hand.”

She wasn’t fighting him, perhaps this was what she had wanted to happen. Perhaps she was so lost to virtue that she wanted to give herself to Dominic Delaney as his other women had.
Cats in the dark
 …

“No!” She rolled suddenly to the opposite side of the blanket. She had caught him by surprise. “You’re wrong, I’m not like …” Tears were suddenly raining down her cheeks. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why?” He lifted his head, his eyes blazing. “Because I’m going insane.” His face was taut with strain. “For God’s sake, stop crying.” His hands closed into fists as if fighting for control. “You’re not hurt.”

She wasn’t sure that was true. There was a dull, empty ache between her thighs and a sharp pain somewhere near her heart. She sat up, adjusted her chemise, and quickly buttoned her blouse. She
rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. “I know that.”

“Then stop wailing.” He stood up, leaned down, and lifted her roughly to her feet. “You’ve ‘rested’ long enough. We’re going back to the house.” He picked up his hat, turned, and strode down the trail to where the horses were tethered.

“I don’t know why you’re angry with me,” she called. She wrapped her arms around herself to stop the trembling. “It’s not my fault you’re having to do without your hetaeras.”

He didn’t answer. He untied the horses and led them up the trail.

“It’s not sensible to be upset with me just because I resisted your advances. You’re certainly no gentleman.”

A flare of anger lit his pale eyes with icy fire. “No, you’re right, I’m no gentleman, I’m a fool. I’ve been acting like a bloody sheepbrain, sighing and afraid to speak, lusting but afraid to touch.” His hands closed on her waist and he tossed her onto the saddle. “No more, Elspeth. No more.”

She looked down at him, her fair hair tumbled to her shoulders in a wild cloud of tawny gold, her eyes as green as the pine forest around her. “What are you saying?” she whispered.

“That you’ve made me into a milksop, a weakling.” His lips parted in a reckless smite. “Somewhere in our acquaintance I stopped being Dominic Delaney and became Elspeth MacGregor’s whipping boy. But it’s come to an end, Elspeth.”

“I never tried to change you.” She lifted her chin. “Not that you couldn’t have used a good deal of reformation.”

“Perhaps you didn’t have to try. Maybe guilt did the task for you. Whenever I thought I’d broken the chains that held me, you managed to forge new ones to hold me at your heels.” His smile deepened and she was suddenly seeing the rakish devil-beauty she had encountered that first evening Dominic had walked into the parlor at the hotel. “Well, it’s over. I once told
Patrick I was my father’s son. You’d best remember that, sweetheart. Da and I take what we want and worry about the consequences later.” He turned away and swung into the saddle. “I didn’t have to let you go just now. I figure that makes us even. I don’t owe you anything any longer.” He turned his horse and started down the trail. “And I won’t be fool enough to let you go again. Lock your door tonight. Don’t be alone with me for a minute. Never believe a word I tell you.” He glanced over his shoulder to direct a mocking smile at her. “And you might remain a virgin for another twenty-four hours.” He turned around and kicked the black into a gallop. “But it’s not likely. Not likely at all, Elspeth.”

Ramon Torres sighed morosely as he slid the rifle back into its saddle holster. He remounted Chiquita, turned, and whipped the mare into a dead run. It was necessary he be back at Killara before Delaney, and the man was moving at a breakneck pace down the trail. Ah, well, he would make it. He had scouted these hills and knew every shortcut possible. It was a necessary precaution for a man in his profession to know the lay of the land.

He really should have taken the shot, but he had never dreamed Dominic would stop before he had entered the little
gringa
. Ramon still felt the disappointment eating at him. He had wanted desperately to watch his prey moving in and out of his woman, unknowing of the power that, he, Ramon, held over him. He could feel his loins harden at the thought of looking down the sight of his rifle and slowly, very slowly, pulling the trigger.

His lips curved in a smile of genuine enjoyment as he realized what a fine death that would be for any man. He wanted Dominic Delaney to have a death worthy of him. He had a fine bold name and possessed the dark, dangerous beauty of a great cat. It was going to be a rare pleasure to put Dominic down, and this little setback should not really bother Ramon. He had found that unexpected twists of fate often made the
game only more exciting. He was glad he hadn’t been hasty. Now he could savor the kill. Perhaps he would even pamper himself and get close enough to watch Dominic’s eyes as he died.

Dominic wanted the
gringa
. God alone knew why the man had stopped when she had resisted him, but it might be to Ramon’s advantage. There was no more potent bait under the sun than a bitch in heat and no more thrilling kill than the death of a man who was enjoying life to the fullest.

He suddenly laughed aloud as an amusing idea occurred to him. Why not make Dominic a present of the
gringa
? Then Ramon could lie in the loft tonight and look at the great house and imagine what Dominic was doing to the woman. It would bring him the most delicious pleasure, to know he was controlling the prey unbeknownst to Dominic, and the possession of a woman always brought a feeling of joy and satisfaction to a man that made life infinitely sweeter.

His laughter faded but the smile of satisfaction remained as he leaned low over Chiquita’s neck and murmured softly, urging her to go faster. Ah, yes, Dominic Delaney might yet get his chance for the fine death Ramon had planned for him.

14

“I
am tired of being white.” Silver flung open the door to Rising Star’s room without knocking. She made a face as she saw Rising Star sitting, quill pen in hand, at the small secretary by the window. “I cannot breathe in this house. How can you bear it?” She pulled her tunic over her head and tossed it on the bed before dropping to the floor and, crossing her legs. She brought her loose dark hair over one shoulder and began to braid it. “Come down off your fine chair and be Indian with me.”

Rising Star slowly shook her head. “I’m comfortable here.” She put her pen back in the crystal inkwell. “Where is Elspeth?”

“She decided to go for a ride and sent me to you. She said she did not need me.” Silver shrugged her bare shoulders. “I do not care. I am tired of being a nursemaid anyway.”

“Are you?” Rising Star asked. “Then it is good that soon she will no longer need you. You can leave this house and go back to where you are happier.”

Silver’s eyes narrowed on her aunt’s face. “Why do you not come with me? You are not happy here either. They do not like Indians in this house and you cannot change what you are.”

“I have made a place for myself here,” Rising Star said. “I am content.” She smiled as her hand gently touched her abdomen. “And soon I will be more content.”

“Do you think they will love you more because you give them a half-breed baby?” Silver asked bitterly. You are blind. They will treat your child as they treat me.”

“You’re wrong. Joshua will not permit his baby to be treated as an outcast,” Rising Star said quietly. “He wants our child very much.”

“Did he tell you this?”

“No, but I know it to be true,” Rising Star said. “It is natural for a man to want a child. If I had been able to give him a son before, there would have been less—” She paused. “Things will be better once the child is born.”

“How do you know?” Silver tossed the thick braid back over her shoulder and turned to face her aunt. “What if the child does not help? Will you stay here and grow old with these people who think you are less than they?”

“Joshua does not treat me as they do. There is love between us.”

Silver’s eyes blazed. “I do not understand a love that makes you grow quieter and sadder with every year. Joshua should fight them and make them treat you as a member of the family.”

Rising Star shook her head sadly. “I cannot expect to be treated as a Delaney until I’m truly one of them. The child will help. Joshua will—”

“He is cold to you,” Silver said angrily. “When he is with you, there is no closeness. He will not change because—” She stopped as she saw the pain that tightened Rising Stars features. She muttered something beneath her breath and suddenly sprang to her feet and ran across the room. She dropped to her knees before Rising Star, her arms encircling her aunt’s waist, her cheek pressed against her breasts. Her words were muffled. “I am sorry. I grow so angry and the words rise up and cannot be stopped. I did not mean to sting you.”

“I know.” Rising Star’s hand tenderly stroked Silver’s shining dark hair. “But you’re wrong, Silver, Joshua does love me. It is not easy for him to be married to me.”

“Why? You give everything and take nothing. You have become everything they want you to be. They wanted no ignorant savages in their house, so you studied and became more learned than any of them. You cast off your comfortable Indian garments and wear clothes that bind and stifle. You speak softly and are kind to everyone.” She lifted her head to smile wryly. “Even to me, who causes you much pain.” The smile faded. “You are a great lady and they do not see it. It would be better for you to come away with me. I will take such good care of you,” she promised with touching, childlike earnestness.

Rising Star chuckled. “And what would two lone women do wandering around by ourselves?”

Silver grinned back at her. “We would see all the great cities of the world. We would sing and dance. I would learn to play the piano and you could use the French you taught yourself. We would be white when we wished, and Indian when it suited us. It would be a truly splendid life, Rising Star.” She lowered her voice coaxingly. “Come with me, there is nothing for us here.”

Rising Star shook her head. “There is something for me, I believe. And if there is not, there is nothing for me anywhere. I love my husband, Silver.”

Silver opened her lips to protest but then closed them without speaking. There was a moment of silence in the room before she said softly, “Then God deliver me from man-woman love.” She lifted her chin and her gray eyes were suddenly dancing. “No, I will deliver myself and I will deliver you too. I will wait until the child is born and then I will come back and whisk you both away. I will show you a woman doesn’t need a man to clutter her life. Friendship is much better. You have been white too long. You need me to show you how—” She broke off at the knock on the door. “Don’t move, I will answer it.” She jumped to her feet and walked swiftly toward the door.

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