“I didn’t do nothin’ to Jenny,” the man said. “If she said I did, she’s lyin’.”
“I saw her!” Catalina shouted. “You ripped her dress. You cut her lip. You striked her in the face.”
Miss Hattie intervened. “You should prob’ly just get out o’ town before word starts spreadin’.”
“Jenny belongs to me,” the man insisted. “I had her first.”
Catalina bit the words out between her teeth. “Yes, you had her first. I saw the sheets. You hurt her so badly, there was blood everywhere.”
Miss Hattie flinched at this revelation.
The man spat on the floor. “Don’t you know nothin’, whore? That’s just the way it is.” Then he yelled, “Now tell me where Jenny is! Jenny!”
His roar brought the upstairs ladies drifting timidly out of their bedrooms.
Then the man whipped aside his coat and pulled out a pistol. He shook it toward the balcony. “Jenny? Where are you, girl?”
He fired off a shot at the ceiling, chipping the plaster and setting off a spate of shrieks.
“Jenny! I know you’re here!”
He fired again, clipping the wood railing of the balcony and sending the ladies diving for the floor.
“Someone better tell me where she is,” he threatened, “or I’m gonna start shootin’ whores—startin’ with this one.”
Suddenly, Catalina found herself staring down the barrel of his gun.
In the next instant, before she could even gasp, there was a loud crack.
For a split second, Catalina thought she’d been shot.
But then she saw the pistol fly out of his grip into pieces and hit the wall as if by magic. He recoiled and cursed in pain, shaking his hand.
From upstairs, she heard Drew’s familiar voice. “You’d best get the hell out o’ Paradise before I get a bead on somethin’ more than your trigger finger.”
Miss Hattie loosened her hold. Catalina turned to see shirtless Drew coming down the stairs with his Colt drawn.
The broken-nosed brute must have recognized him. “This ain’t your business, Hawk,” he grumbled. “I got no quarrel with a fellow gambler.”
“Well, I got a quarrel with men who pick on ladies half their size.”
“Hell, I didn’t pick on her.”
Catalina itched to slap the brute’s face. But Drew was still holding a gun on the man. She knew better than to get between him and his target.
The broken-nosed man groused to Drew as if he thought he’d found a kindred spirit. “You know how it is. You got to teach a woman from the start, break her in right.”
Catalina felt her blood rising. She heard the soft whimpering of the women upstairs, who were still cowering on the floor.
“Is that so?” Drew purred, coming down the last step.
“Sure,” the man said. “Otherwise, they’re never gonna know who’s boss.”
Drew lowered his gun, but continued advancing on the man. “Gotta show ’em the ropes?”
“Yeah.”
He ambled forward. “Give ’em a swat now and then when they get out o’ line?”
“Yeah.”
He stepped closer. “A little…love tap?”
“Y—”
Drew raised the butt of his pistol and cracked it hard against the man’s forehead. “Like that?”
The man staggered back. A lump was already rising on his brow. “What the hell?”
Drew shrugged. “Just lettin’ you know who’s in charge.”
Catalina fought the urge to cheer him on. Miss Hattie might have to be diplomatic. But Drew had no such need. And the fact that he was coming to the defense of women everywhere made her giddy with pride.
Then the man shook off the cobwebs and barreled back up to Drew. “You’re playin’ a dangerous game, half-breed.”
“Name-callin’? Really?” Drew said, shaking his head. “That’s a mite cowardly.”
The man threw a punch. Drew ducked under it. The man stumbled forward under his own momentum. A light shove by Drew sent him crashing, chin-first, into a card table.
Red-faced, the man struggled to his feet, as mad as a raging bear. “Get your hands off me!”
“Is that what Jenny said?” Drew demanded.
“You don’t know shit!” The man was foaming at the mouth.
Against Catalina’s wishes, Drew set aside his gun and turned to face the brute with his arms wide.
“Come on,” he urged. “Show me who’s boss.”
Catalina’s heart stuck in her throat. Drew was every bit as big as the broken-nosed villain. But he was probably not as ruthless or underhanded. The bullies in Italy didn’t believe in fair fights. They would knife a man in the back and kick him when he lay bleeding on the ground. Drew had said he was good with a gun, and by what she’d just seen, he was telling the truth. Why wasn’t he using his pistol now?
Afraid for Drew’s life, while the men were warily circling each other, Catalina slipped over to the table and rested her hand on his pistol. She didn’t intend to fire it. But if Drew wasn’t going to use it, at least she could keep it out of the hands of the bad man.
Like a bull stamping its hoof in a show of threat, the brute wrenched a chair out of the way.
Drew stood his ground, beckoning the man forward with a flip of his fingers.
With a low growl, the man lunged toward Drew.
Catalina’s breath caught. But at the last minute, Drew sidestepped. The man missed him by inches and went crashing into the wall.
When he whipped around in fury, Drew was ready for him.
“Best stay back, ladies,” he murmured.
Miss Hattie grabbed Catalina by the elbow, dragging her back to a safer spot under the balcony. Catalina hid the pistol in the folds of her skirt.
The bully punched one scarred and meaty fist into his palm in threat. To Catalina’s anxious eyes, that fist looked twice the size of her head. If the brute thought what he’d done to Jenny had been love taps, what damage could he inflict upon Drew?
The man hurled himself forward again. This time his fist grazed Drew’s cheek. When Drew dropped abruptly to the ground, Catalina gasped, afraid he’d been felled.
But Drew was clever. He was using the man’s own force against him. The brute had thrown all of his weight into his attack. So when Drew knocked the man’s feet out from under him, his knees hit the floor with a great thud.
He howled in pain and rage.
Drew wiped his scraped cheek with his thumb. It hadn’t even drawn blood.
“That’s for what you did to Jenny,” he bit out.
“Si!” Catalina chimed in.
“It ain’t near what I’m gonna do to you!” the man declared as he staggered to his feet.
“No!” Catalina cried. “Get your dirty hands off of—”
Miss Hattie elbowed her. “Hush.”
Drew shook his head, but prepared for another attack.
Catalina couldn’t bear to watch, but she couldn’t stand to look away. So she peered through squinted eyes.
The man was limping now as he made his way toward Drew. His eyes were full of bloodlust. His fists clenched and unclenched. Spittle hung from his sneering lip.
With his right fist, he threw a hard punch at Drew’s head.
Drew dodged aside and caught the clout in his palm. But he wasn’t ready for the second punch.
The man’s left fist caught his ribs. It was a glancing blow, but it was enough to make Drew grimace and grunt in pain.
Catalina squeaked in fear.
The bully laughed in victory as Drew clutched at his bruised ribs.
“Nobody pushes me around!” the brute roared. “Not you!” He stabbed a finger at Drew. “Not her!” He pointed at Miss Hattie. Then he narrowed his eyes at Catalina. “And not some filthy, foul-mouthed, foreign fu—”
His tirade was interrupted by a gruesome crack as Drew’s fist broke his nose, not for the first time.
“No one…” Drew spat, seizing the b
rute by the front of his shirt. “…talks like that…” He pummeled the man again, bloodying his lip. “…about the woman…” His next blow sent two teeth flying out of the brute’s mouth. “…I intend to marry!”
His final punch hit the point of the man’s chin. The brute went instantly silent. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he hit the floor like a felled tree, with a thundering thud.
Someone fired a gun.
Beside Catalina’s foot, a great hole had suddenly appeared in the wooden floor.
She gasped. Then she looked at her hand. The pistol was smoking.
She looked up at Drew. He was staring at her with a strange expression, like a combination of wariness and horror.
He held out his hand. “You want to hand that over, nice and careful, Cat?”
She nodded, lifting it up by the stock with two fingers to hand it to Drew.
She let out a shuddering breath. She hadn’t realized how terrified she’d been.
Above her, the ladies started murmuring softly in wonder. Miss Hattie swept out from behind her to peer down at the wreckage of a man laid out like a corpse on her salon floor.
Suddenly, Catalina frowned.
“Wait,” she said, glancing at Drew, who was cradling his battered ribs. “What did you just say?”
“I said, do you want to hand over the—”
“No, before that.”
“Oh. That.”
While the ladies hushed and leaned over the balcony, Drew set down the gun and dug in his pocket.
He pulled forth something and went down on one knee before her.
“Miss Cat, Catalina…”
Her eyes welled with happy tears as she pressed one trembling hand to her bosom. She was so moved that she gave him her real name. “Catalina Palatino Prosperi Valentini di Ferrara.”
He gave her a lopsided grin. “Miss Cat Etcetera…will you do me the honor of givin’ me your hand in marriage?”
“Mr. Drew Hawk,” she breathed. “I will give you my hands and my arms and my feet and my legs…”
“All right, that’s quite enough givin’ in public,” Miss Hattie scolded.
The ladies squealed and cheered in delight.
Drew slipped a beautiful ring on her finger. The band was of simple gold filigree, and the brilliant diamond in the middle twinkled through the blur of tears in her eyes.
“I suppose you’ll be wantin’ Cat for the night,” Miss Hattie quipped.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Catalina frowned at the madam. “You will not make him pay for me.”
“For you? No. But I’m still chargin’ him two dollars for the room.”
Drew patted his pockets. Then he crouched beside the man he’d knocked unconscious, who lay snuffling through his broken nose. He dug in the man’s pockets and handed Miss Hattie two silver dollars.
“You’ll prob’ly want to get the sheriff,” Drew told her. “When this fool wakes up, he’s gonna be madder than a hornet.”
“You got that right,” Miss Hattie said. Then she added, “Look, in light of everything that’s happened, I’m gonna let you two have the day off alone. Think of it as a honeymoon. But bright and early tomorrow, Miss Catalina, I expect you to report for work…as my new saloon girl. You’ve got a raise. The pay is a dollar and a half a day.”
“Oh, thank you, Miss Hattie,” Catalina gushed.
Then Drew retrieved his gun, looped his arm through Catalina’s, and led her back up the stairs.
When he closed the bedroom door behind them, he sagged against it. Catalina realized he’d been more injured than he let on. His chest was red where the brute had struck him.
“You’re hurt,” she accused.
“It’s just a bruise.”
“Let me see.” She took his hand, pulling him toward the bed.
He followed her willingly and sat on the edge of the mattress. “You were pretty brave out there.”
“Not as brave as you.”
She gazed into his dark and sparkling eyes. They were full of pride and love and something else…
Lust.
Santo cielo, how could Drew think of sex at a time like this?
“You know,” he murmured, lifting a hand to cup her cheek, “I’m not hurt from the waist down.”
Despite her worry about his ribs, she couldn’t resist smiling at his teasing words. And the sight of his bare chest, sleek and golden and full of muscle, sent a thrill through her that made every nerve tingle.
Chapter 23
Drew’s ribs might be cracked, but by nightfall, he was feeling no pain. His talented little bride-to-be had not only seen to all his hurts, but most of his itches too.
She’d traced his every contour with her delicate fingers, kissing every place her fingertips touched. She’d whispered Italian syllables in his ear and sighed against his throat. She’d caressed him boldly, yet blushed as he slipped her camisole from her shoulders.
He’d repaid her in kind. He’d run the back of his knuckles across her sweet flesh. He’d breathed endearments in his native language softly across her face. He’d bathed her like a cat, running his tongue over every inch of her until she arched and purred in ecstasy.
The madam had brought them a tray of food halfway through the day, muttering that newlyweds needed to keep up their strength. They’d fed each other apples. Cat had nibbled on cheese from his fingers, and he’d slurped berry pie off of her lovely stomach.
They’d spent all day exploring, learning, reveling in each new discovery.
They currently lounged across the linens without a stitch of clothing. In fact, the only thing his lovely bride-to-be was wearing was the filigree wedding ring that made her his.
Their limbs were entwined like the roots of a tree. Her long golden legs wrapped around his, and her precious little toes peeped out from between the arches of his feet. Her hips made a sinewy curve in contrast to the angular jut of his. He blew a gentle breath across her rounded breasts. She squirmed, stiffening in sweet response. The beast nestled among his black curls roused as well.
He gazed down at their clasped hands, at how perfectly they fit together. He had no doubt the rest of them would fit as well. But that was the one feat they hadn’t yet attempted.
Inspired to perform the final act that would make their union complete, Drew initiated a bold seduction. He slipped his fingers between Cat’s thighs and stroked her to life.
She moaned and turned toward him with her eyes closed and a languorous smile on her lips.
He grew instantly hard. Disentangling from her legs, he levered up on one arm and moved over her. Tenderly, he nudged her knees apart and urged her thighs to open.
But when he pressed against her, begging entrance, she pushed at his shoulders.
“No,” she protested.
He frowned. “No?”
“No.”
His jaw tensed. “But we’re gonna be married.”
Si, but we are not yet married.”
For an instant, he felt like an upset little boy who’d had his peppermint stick snatched away.
But in the next moment, he realized he couldn’t gamble with her affections. They had their whole lives ahead of them. It wasn’t worth risking her love to seduce his bride before she was ready.
With a resigned sigh, he rocked off of her.
“When we are properly married, then I will give you everything, mio caro,” she told him, “I promise.”
He nodded. She wasn’t being unreasonable. But he wasn’t feeling reasonable, not at all. He was feeling achy with lust.
“So when do you want to get married?” he asked her, hoping his voice didn’t reveal his impatience.
She ran a pensive palm low across his belly, which didn’t help matters any. He closed his eyes with painful yearning.
“First I must make a suitable wedding gown,” she said.
“Hell, you don’t need a weddin’ gown,” he told her. “I’d marry you in rags.”
“Do not be silly,” she
told him. “I am a dressmaker. How will it look for a dressmaker not to have a proper wedding gown?”
He grunted.
“The other ladies will need dresses as well,” she said.
He scowled. Other ladies? What other ladies?
She added, “Then there will be the men’s suits to order.”
“Men’s suits? Now hold on a minute. What men?”
“You, your brother, your father…”
He smirked. Drew’s father hadn’t worn a suit since the day a bunch of white miners had forced him into a shotgun wedding.
“All that sewin’—how much time are we talkin’ about?” he asked her. “A day or two? A week?”
Her laughter would have been charming if it hadn’t jangled his nerves.
“Are you so impatient, my husband?” she chided.
Yes, as a matter of fact, he was.
She tapped her lip as she considered his question. “If I can get a sewing machine, I can order the fabric, design the clothings, and make them in…no more than a month, I would guess.”
“A month!”
He didn’t mean for it to come out like that, so abrupt and outraged. But damn it, he didn’t want to wait that long to make love to her. It was ridiculous.
He loved her. She loved him. Why couldn’t they just speak some words in front of a preacher and be done with it?
But Catalina bristled at his words. She moved her hand away and rolled onto her back. “If you do not think I am worth waiting for…”
“No, it ain’t that, not at all,” he was quick to assure her. “It’s just, well, in Hupa, when a man finds a woman he fancies, he just brings her folks a deer and moves in with her.”
“A deer?”
“Yeah, to prove he can provide for her.”
She smiled at that. “You do not have to bring me a deer.”
“Well, that’s good to know. But honestly, I don’t know if I can stand it…” He ran the back of his finger along her arm, making her shiver. “Sleepin’ next to you every night…” He lifted her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers. “Tempted by all that delicious flesh…” He slipped her thumb into his mouth and gave it a gentle, sensual suck before he released it. “The feel of you…the taste of you…” He moved her hand down until her palm rested against his chest. “Can you feel how my heart beats for you? I can hardly resist you, Cat.”
Native Hawk (California Legends Book 3) Page 16