“But he still hurt you, so don’t question the penalty. I could have made his death a lot worse. I could have made it last much longer.”
He let go of her, and she cried, “Why are you so vengeful? You’re not the one he hurt.”
“Are you sorry I came for you, cateyes?”
Courtney lowered her eyes. “No.”
“Then get on my horse and don’t even think about leaving without me. I’m angry enough with you. You didn’t signal me this morning that you were in trouble. Don’t make me have to chase after you again, because there’s no way in hell you can get away from me, lady.”
Courtney nodded briefly, then turned toward Surefoot. She was so angry with Chandos that she almost forgot how grateful she ought to be. He had saved her from Pretty Boy… but all she saw in her mind’s eye was his granite face and cold expression.
Chapter 29
THIS was the second time Courtney had left a scene of bloodshed during the night. She rode in front of Chandos, enveloped in the warmth of his protection. Again, he had killed for her. He only wounded men who were after him. He killed men who were after her.
But he was angry with her. And only moments after they finally stopped riding, his passion erupted. He lifted her down from his horse, and her blouse spilled open. Perhaps that triggered it. Or maybe it was the killing. He hadn’t only killed but had himself come close to dying. It was as if he needed a reaffirmation of life, and found it in her soft, yielding body.
Courtney was overpowered. There was to be no denying Chandos. But she wasn’t frightened. What she felt was a trembling excitement, his intensity overwhelming her. If Chandos needed to exert his male dominance this way, she was happy to let him. She had her own anxieties to release, after all, and she could think of no better way to release them.
And in the back of her mind was the comforting thought that if he wanted to love her, he couldn’t be that angry with her.
He lowered her to the ground, and she clung to him, pulling him down with her. Grass and stones spiked through her clothes, but she barely felt it as his lips fastened on a nipple and he began to suckle hungrily.
Sounds of pleasure gurgled in her throat. Chandos groaned and settled his weight between her legs, his arms wrapping beneath her to hold her even closer. His belly pressed against her groin, moving against it, a stimulation that sent exploding sparks of pleasure into her deepest core.
She was wild for him, there was no other way to put it. She bit, scratched, pulled him toward her. He yanked off her skirt and petticoat, piling them beneath her hips. It didn’t really make their bed any softer, but she didn’t care. Her eyes, slanted more than usual by her passion, were caught and held by his fiery gaze as he knelt between her legs and unbuckled his belt and holster. Even in the dark his look had the power to take her breath away. She couldn’t bear it when he moved away, and she pulled him back to her the moment he finished shedding his clothes.
Penetration was immediate. A hungry growl accompanied his fierce thrust, matched by her own sigh. She gasped as he withdrew, then impaled her again. He pounded her depths and she met him with equal fervor, glorying in their mating until she reached a shattering, explosive climax. Her ultimate ecstasy was prolonged as he buried himself deep, pressing, straining, until she felt the gushing warmth of his release filling her.
Courtney lay sprawled beneath him, his weight beginning to hurt. But she wouldn’t have stirred him for the world. Her heart was pounding, and her breathing hadn’t returned to normal yet. Thoughts drifted through her mind, and suddenly she had a clear picture of how she had just behaved—almost as savagely as Chandos!
He stirred. His lips brushed her neck and he sat up, taking most of his weight off her chest. He looked down at her.
“You screamed.”
“Did I?” She was amazed by how nonchalant she managed to sound.
He smiled and kissed her and his lips were soft as they slid back and forth, teasing.
Courtney sighed. “Now you’re gentle.”
“You didn’t want gentleness, kitten,” he declared, and the truth of it made her blush. “But you do now, don’t you?”
She was too embarrassed to answer. He rolled over onto his side and pulled her against him. Her breasts pressed comfortably into his side. A breeze caressed her, and she shivered.
“Cold?”
“Only a little—no, don’t get up.”
She threw her arm across him. A puny effort to restrain a man like him, but it worked. His arms locked around her in a protective circle.
“Chandos?”
“Yes, cateyes?”
There was silence as she struggled to put her thoughts in order.
“Couldn’t you call me Courtney?” she finally said.
“That isn’t what you were going to say.”
No, it wasn’t. “Do you think he’s dead yet?” This in a hesitant, childish voice.
“Yes,” he lied.
Her fingers glided through the hairs on his chest. There was another long silence while Courtney debated whether to ask why it was necessary for Pretty Boy to die so cruelly. But there was that primitive elation in the realization that her man had avenged her.
“Chandos?”
“Yes?”
“You really did come for me alone, didn’t you?”
“You expected me to gather a posse out here?” he asked dryly.
“No—no, of course not. But there was your friend, Leaping Wolf. I know he was nearby. I didn’t think you were up to finding me yourself.” .
The muscles across his chest grew tight, and she realized that she had questioned his masculinity—and after he had proved himself so heroically!
“So you thought I couldn’t protect you? Is that why you didn’t bother to call for my help this morning, when they took you?”
Courtney groaned.
“I’m sorry, but you weren’t exactly in blooming health, you know,” she defended herself. “I was afraid they would kill you.”
“You’d be surprised what a man can do when he’s got a reason. Didn’t I tell you that last night?”
“What was your reason, Chandos?” she challenged. It was a brazen question, she knew that.
“You’re paying me to protect you, or did you forget that, too?”
Disappointment was a thick knot in her throat. She was paying him. Was that the only reason? She started to get up. He held her fast.
“Don’t ever sell me short again, cateyes.”
His hand came around to her cheek, moved to the silken hair by her temple. He pressed her face back down against his chest. His voice had been warm, and the lump in her throat eased a little.
It was something, anyway, that he didn’t want her to get up. But she wanted more-much more. She wanted him to care.
“Don’t be angry with me, Chandos. You found me. I never really doubted that you would.”
After a while she asked, “Then you really are recovered from the snakebite?”
“You can ask me that—now?”
She pressed her face harder against his chest, wondering if he could feel the heat of it. “I mean… does it hurt anymore?”
“It still hurts like hell.”
But he’d come riding after her in spite of it. She smiled, unaware that he could feel the movement against his skin. Her finger absently twirled circles around his nipple.
“Chandos?”
“What now?”
“What happens if I get pregnant?”
He let his breath out in a long sigh.
“Are you?”
“I don’t know. It’s much too soon to tell.” She hesitated. “But what happens if I am?”
“If you aren’t, you won’t be.” There was a long pause before he ended. “If you are, you are.”
A thoroughly unsatisfactory answer. “Would you marry me if I am?”
“Could you live the way I do? Always on the go, never staying in one place for more than a few days?”
“That’s
no way to raise a family,” she pointed out irritably.
“No, it’s not,” he said with finality. Then he moved her aside and got up.
Anger and disillusionment tore through her as she watched him dress and then lead Sure-foot away to unsaddle him. As he moved away, he tossed his bedroll down and she sat staring at it for a long while. How cold and unfeeling Chandos could be!
Chapter 30
EVEN with an average ride of twenty-five to thirty miles a day, Courtney had managed to avoid the deplorable blisters Mattie had predicted. But today, she was sure she’d have some at last. Chandos rode hard and fast to make up for the time they’d lost, and Courtney began to wonder if he was making the ride hard for her on purpose.
It seemed he did everything he could to make her uncomfortable, and had done so since they woke up that morning. He hurried her out of bed and straight into the saddle, to ride behind him this time, which was most uncomfortable.
They reached their camp late in the afternoon and found the other horses well tended and a fire burning—a fire that couldn’t possibly have lasted since yesterday morning. Chandos let out a shrill whistle that, ten minutes later, produced an Indian.
Leaping Wolf was not overly tall, but then the Comanches were known for their horsemanship, not their height. He was dressed in an old army shirt with a carbine belt strapped low on his waist. His moccasins were calf-high, his legs otherwise bare except for a wide breechcloth that fell to his knees. His hair was glossy black, long, and loose. His eyes were jet black, set in a broad face. His skin was the color of old leather. He was young and lanky, but powerful across the shoulders. He carried a rifle cradled in his arms like a baby.
Courtney, who had stopped breathing when he walked into camp, watched as the two men greeted each other and then hunkered down by the fire to talk. They spoke in Comanche, of course.
They pointedly ignored her, but she couldn’t start dinner with them by the fire anyway, so she went through her things instead to see if anything was missing. Nothing was.
Soon, Leaping Wolf left, giving her the same appraising look he’d given her when he entered, long and intense. But where there’d been wariness in his expression before, his guard was relaxed now and she could have sworn he was almost smiling.
He said something to her, but he didn’t wait for Chandos to translate. Once he was gone, Chandos hunkered back down by the fire, chewing on a blade of grass, watching the place in the trees where his friend had disappeared.
Courtney decided he wasn’t going to volunteer what Leaping Wolf had said, so she went to see what their supplies held for dinner.
When she brought the usual beans and dried beef and biscuit fixings to the fire, Chandos fixed his attention on her.
“I want you to burn that blouse,” he said, startling her.
Courtney didn’t take that seriously. “Do you want biscuits or dumplings?”
“Burn it, cateyes.”
He was looking at the deep V that plunged down to a knot where she’d tied the blouse together. Her torn chemise was under it, turned around so that the rip was in the back and the back was in the front, covering her breasts, but just barely.
“Did your friend say something about my blouse?”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“I wasn’t. But I’ll change the blouse if it will make you happy.”
“Go ahead. Then bring it—”
“I will not!” What was wrong with him? “There’s nothing wrong with this blouse that I can’t repair. I fixed the other…” She paused, her eyes narrowing. “Oh, I see. It’s all right if you rip my blouse, but now that someone else has, you want it burned. That’s it, isn’t it?”
He glowered at her, and her anger mellowed into a warm glow. Jealousy, possessiveness, whatever it was, this meant he felt something for her. She decided she was willing to do as he asked.
She fetched a blouse of coral pink and went behind a tree to change. Returning a few minutes later, she quietly dropped the torn white blouse into the fire. Of fine, delicate silk, it was consumed in seconds. Pieces of ash floated up and were caught in the breeze.
Chandos continued to stare, brooding, into the fire.
“What did your friend say to me?” Courtney finally asked.
“He wasn’t talking to you.”
“But he was looking at me.”
“He spoke of you.”
“Well?”
The silence went on, broken only by the crackle of the fire.
“He commended your courage,” he finally answered.
Courtney’s eyes widened. The reaction was lost on Chandos, however, as he got up then and left the camp, walking toward the river. She sighed, wondering if he had told her the truth.
He hadn’t exactly. He didn’t want to tell her that Leaping Wolf’s actual words had been, “Your woman has more courage now. That is good if you decide to keep her.”
Oh, hell, Chandos knew she had more courage, but that made no real difference. She still wanted and deserved things Chandos could never give her, so he couldn’t keep her. Yet when Leaping Wolf had called her “his woman,” it had sounded so right. Damn her and her cat eyes!
He wished this journey were over, wished he’d never started it. Enduring another two weeks with this woman would be hell. The only good thing was that she had given him a reason to not touch her again when she’d mentioned pregnancy. Of course, that didn’t mean he would stop wanting her…
He was afraid. When she was taken, he’d felt fearful in a way he hadn’t felt for years. It was an emotion he’d been immune to these last four years. You had to care about something to feel such a fear of losing it.
Thinking about that only increased his frustration, so Chandos directed his thoughts to what he would do to Wade Smith when he found him. That was at least a frustration he was used to, for the man had slipped through Chandos’s fingers so many times. Would Paris, Texas, be the end of the trail at last?
Chandos spent a very restless night, between one frustration and another.
Chapter 31
TWO days away from Paris, Texas, Courtney sprained her ankle. It was a stupid accident. She stepped on a large rock, using only her instep for support, and the rest of her foot buckled right under. If she hadn’t been wearing boots, it might have been a lot worse.
Her foot swelled so fast she had difficulty getting her boot off. And once it was off, it wouldn’t go back on. The pain wasn’t too bad as long as she didn’t move her foot. But staying off her feet and delaying the journey was out of the question. Even if Chandos had suggested it, she wouldn’t have agreed.
Chandos’s disposition changed when she was injured. Now he was indifferent only half of the time. He became quite solicitous. She got the impression that he welcomed the opportunity to discharge the debt he’d incurred when she took care of his snakebite injury.
The man was so exasperatingly independent, he’d probably resented her help. Well, that debt was quickly cancelled as he saw to all her needs, cooked their food, and took care of all four horses. He made her a crutch out of a sturdy limb. He helped her mount and dismount. And he kept their pace slow, cutting their daily distance by a third, after all.
They had been traveling along a creek in a southeasterly direction when she sprained her foot, and after the injury, Chandos veered sharply southwest. Courtney didn’t know it, but he changed direction because of her injury. They crossed the Red River, then skirted around a town—much to her disappointment. She hadn’t seen civilization for weeks!
They reached another town a few hours later, and Chandos went straight in, stopping in front of a restaurant called Mama’s Place. Courtney was dying for a meal that didn’t include beans, and she was delighted when Chandos led her inside, dusty and unpresentable though she was. The large, bright dining room held a dozen tables covered with check tablecloths. Only one was occupied, since it was the middle of the afternoon. The couple at that table gave Courtney and Chandos the once-over, the woman b
ecoming alarmed as she looked Chandos over. Dusty and travel-worn, he was every inch the gunfighter in black pants and dark gray shirt open halfway down his chest, a black neckerchief tied loosely around his throat.
Chandos gave the middle-aged couple a brief glance, then dismissed them. He seated Courtney, told her he’d be back in a minute, then disappeared into the kitchen. Courtney was left to endure the couple’s scrutiny, feeling utterly self-conscious, knowing how disheveled and dirty she looked.
A moment or so later, the front door of the restaurant opened and in strode two men who had seen the strangers ride down the street and wanted a better look. Courtney’s nervousness increased. She always hated being the center of attention, and it was impossible to be invisible in Chandos’s company. He couldn’t help but arouse curiosity.
Just then, imagining what these people were thinking about her, she suddenly realized what her father would think. Hadn’t he married his housekeeper just for the sake of propriety? Courtney was traveling alone with Chandos! God sakes, her father would think the worst— and the worst was true!
When Chandos returned, he immediately noticed her high color and rigid posture. Her eyes were glued to the table. What was wrong? Had the two fellows who’d come in after he left been bothering her? He gave them such a hard look that they immediately left the restaurant. A few moments later, the couple at the table also left.
“Food will be here in a minute, cateyes,” Chandos said.
The kitchen door opened, and a round woman strode toward them. “This is Mama. She’ll be taking care of you for a few days,” Chandos announced casually.
Courtney’s eyes riveted on the rotund Mexican woman, who began speaking rapid Spanish to Chandos. She was short and comfortable looking, with salt-and-pepper hair woven into a tight bun. She was wearing a brightly colored cotton skirt and white blouse with an apron over them, and woven leather sandals.
“What do you mean, she’ll be taking care of me?” demanded Courtney of Chandos. “Where will you be?”
“I told you. I have business in Paris.”
A Heart So Wild Page 17