wouldn’t need exotic variations to revive your flagging manhood if you concentrated on quality instead of quantity.”
“Flagging manhood!” Dominic took a sip of coffee before he turned his gaze to Patrick with the faintest flicker of a smile. “When you get a little older, my lad, you’ll find a true man has to challenge himself on occasion.” He grimaced. “And last night was definitely a challenge.”
“Were the ladies satisfied?”
“I don’t remember.” Dominic rubbed his temple. “But I think I was. And I’m sure Rina will let me know when she wakes up if she wasn’t.”
Patrick chuckled. “I agree. Rina’s not shy about voicing her displeasure.” Not that Patrick could recall a time when Dominic had had a problem pleasing Rina Bradshaw. The madam seemed more than happy to have Dominic’s company in and out of bed as often as possible. Patrick rocked the chair onto its rear legs and pushed his stetson to the back of his head. “Maybe you’re right. Could be this isn’t such a bad life after all.”
Dominic took another sip of coffee and looked straight ahead. “Don’t even think about it. You’re going back to Killara first thing tomorrow morning.”
Patrick raised a quizzical brow. “Oh, am I, Uncle Dominic, sir? And just what would you say if I decided to stay and join you in a life of decadence?”
“I’d knock you on your ass, tie you on your horse, and send you packing to Killara. Then I’d tell everyone in Hell’s Bluff if they allowed you in a saloon, a whorehouse, or even in the general store, they’d have to face me.” He smiled with a gentleness that was more menacing than anger. “Would you care to call my bluff, Patrick?”
Patrick gave a low whistle and shook his head. “Not at the moment. It would be a waste of time, as I have every intention of going home tomorrow. In fact, I would have been home tonight if my horse hadn’t thrown a shoe about five miles out of town.”
“You could have told me.”
Patrick grinned. “And missed the chance of goading dangerous Dominic Delaney? You have things too much your own way here, Dom. You need someone around to whittle you down a peg.”
Dominic suddenly smiled with engaging warmth. “You do a pretty good job. I’m lucky you aren’t around all the time, or I’d be whittled down to the size of a toothpick.” He finished his coffee. “Well, as long as you’re here you might as well enjoy the fruits of corruption for a little longer. Do you want to come over to the Nugget with me and see if we can get up a game?”
“Maybe later. I thought we’d go over to the hotel for a meal.” Patrick paused. “There’s someone there I want you to meet. She arrived on the stage this afternoon.”
“She?” Dominic smiled faintly. “Dulcie couldn’t have been as good as you say if you had to go out and find another ladyfriend so soon.”
“It’s nothing like that. You’re the reason she’s come to Hell’s Bluff. She said she had a business proposition for you.”
“Maybe Rina has been telling the world about my skills,” Dominic drawled. “Do you think she wants to hire me as her fancy man?”
Patrick frowned. “I’m not joking. She’s not like that, Dom. She’s kind of…” He shrugged. “She’s a lady.”
“Evidently one who has impressed you considerably.” Dom was studying him speculatively. “Pretty?”
“Good Lord, no.” Patrick shook his head. “She looks like the schoolteacher we had living at the ranch after Rising Star came. Spectacles and prim and proper as they come. She said you knew her father, Professor Edmund MacGregor.
“Christ, I thought I’d shaken off that little bastard.”
“You did. The lady said he had departed this world for a better place. Who was he?”
“A very persistent and unpleasant gentleman with the hide of an armadillo and the narrowmindness of a preacher’s virgin daughter.”
“Some of them aren’t all that narrowminded,” Patrick protested. “I ran into one last year in Tucson who was neither a-”
“What does she want with me?”
Patrick shook his head. “You’ll have to ask her.”
“The hell I will.” Dominic leaned back in his chair and rubbed his cheek. He could feel a slight stubble, but he wasn’t about to shave. At the moment he couldn’t stand the thought of anything harsher than a feather against his skin. “Tell her I’m too busy to take on any new business ventures and put her on the stage back to Tucson tomorrow morning.”
“See her, Dom. She’s come clear across an ocean and an entire continent. Why don’t you let her tell you what she wants?”
Dominic reached into his shirt pocket for the makings and began to roll a cigarette. “I have a good idea what she wants.”
Patrick’s brown eyes glinted with curiosity. “What?”
Dominic ran his tongue over the thin paper and reached for matches. “The same thing her father wanted. What everyone in Hell’s Bluff wants. One good strike that will make them king of the hill.”
“Elspeth MacGregor is no prospector.”
“We’ll see.” Dominic lit the cigarette and drew deeply. “Or, rather, you’ll see. I have no intention of talking to the lady.”
“I wish you would, Dom.” Patrick’s brow furrowed. “It wouldn’t hurt to be polite to her. She’s sort of…”
“Sort of what?”
Patrick hesitated. “I think she’s a little owl who believes she’s an eagle.”
Dominic burst out laughing. The hardness and cynicism disappeared from his face, and for an instant, he looked as young as Patrick. “God, how poetic. Rising Star couldn’t have put it better.”
Patrick looked a little sheepish. “Well, it fits anyway. A little owl won’t be any trouble for you to shake off. See her, Dom.”
Dominic’s expression had softened miraculously as he gazed with affection at his nephew. “If you’re wrong about your little owl, you’re going to wish you’d never come back to Hell’s Bluff today even if it meant crawling to Killara on your hands and knees. You say she’s over at the hotel?”
Patrick nodded. “She said she’d wait in the parlor.”
Dominic pushed back the chair, shuddering as the legs screeched on the floor. “I’ll go upstairs and get my hat.”
He paused at the door to glance back over his shoulder. “How is Rising Star?”
Patrick’s expression became shuttered. “Fine. She’s in her seventh month now. She’s very happy about the baby.” He looked down at the tablecloth and began to trace one of the blue squares with his index finger. “It shows. She kind of… glows.”
“That’s nice.” Dominic started to say something but changed his mind. What the hell could he say that would do any good? he asked himself. Abruptly, he turned away. “I’ll be right down.”
2
“Miss MacGregor, may I present my uncle, Dominic Delaney?”
Dominic Delaney was not what Elspeth had expected. He was not the uncouth barbarian described by her father nor did he bear significant resemblance to his nephew, Patrick, standing beside him inside the parlor doorway.
She supposed he could be considered quite beautiful by those in thrall to the slightly wicked appeal of the likes of Byron. The last rays of the setting sun streaming through the window highlighted the shining darkness of his neatly barbered hair and revealed the tiniest hint of a wave in its thick crispness. His long sideburns accented the high cheekbones of his slightly elongated face, and the hollowed line of his jaw and deeply bronzed skin gave him a faintly Spanish look. His attire had the same Latin air: a waist-length black suede jacket, a shirt of fine white linen, and a black string tie.
