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.
“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
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
He suddenly laughed aloud as an amusing idea occurred to him. Why not make Dominic a present of the
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
