Darling Annie

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Darling Annie Page 2

by Raine Cantrell


  “Do tell me, darlin’, is it loaded?”

  “I am not your darling.” Even to her ears, it sounded like a halfhearted protest at best. What was wrong with her? But Annie knew why she was cowering ramrod straight beneath his body and too scared to move. First he had invaded her room. Then her bed. Now, the heat of his lean, hard body was seeping into her as he pressed his full length against her. He was so close, she could see the beard stubble on his narrow cheeks. And that wasn’t the worst of it at all.

  His most unmentionable body part was indistinguishable from the pistol’s barrel.

  Mustering every bit of courage she had, Annie glared up at him. “I wouldn’t know. Is it?”

  Kell’s grin beamed a wicked warning as it kicked up one corner of his mouth. “Since you’ve got your hand on the trigger,” he drawled in a low, husky voice, “you tell me, sweet thing.”

  “Mercy,” squeaked past Annie’s suddenly dry lips. The bold brass buttons of his pants closing were indenting their shape on the back of her hand. The buttons weren’t the only bold, brassy thing making an indentation on her. She longed to sink out of sight into the feather tick.

  “Haven’t got an ounce of mercy in me.” Kell gazed down at her flushed cheeks. His grin changed into a wide smile. There was a dusting of freckles across those flaming cheeks. “Charming little—”

  “I’m Muldoon!” Annie confessed, too afraid to hear what he was about to comment on.

  “I,” Kell noted very softly, “already figured that out for myself.”

  Wicked. Dangerous. His eyes glazed with an intense focused concentration that promised excitement. Annie denied she felt the tiniest bit of it. Disdainfully she wrinkled her nose against the strong, overpowering reek of smoke.

  He moved.

  She froze.

  Annie briefly closed her eyes. She was fever-flushed from inside out. A mistaken case of spring fever. But it wasn’t spring. It was summer and long past mating time. And people were different from animals. Weren’t they?

  “Mr. York, there is no need for you to maintain your position and prove your greater strength.”

  “So polite, darlin?” Kell waited until she looked at him. Her big blue eyes were dilated and luminous. He smiled. “Make you nervous? Butter won’t melt in that dainty little mouth, would it?” He didn’t expect an answer and didn’t get one. “But I’m not going anywhere, Muldoon. I sure to appreciate a woman who knows her place.”

  Kell felt proud that he was keeping full rein on his temper. It was Annie Muldoon that he had pinned beneath him, but an Annie that was a good ten years younger than he had believed and been told.

  Without the mobcap she wore to conceal every bit of her shining hair and with no spectacles hiding those stunning dark blue eyes, Kell had to revise his opinion of her. She was a freckle-faced redhead, but she sure wasn’t as flat as yesterday’s flapjacks.

  Annie was soft—incredibly so. Lush, actually. He settled more of his weight on her. Her ears were dainty and heated with the same flags of color that reddened her cheeks. And her mouth was not, as Pockets had described it, a pinched-up old dried nut.

  She squirmed.

  Kell froze this time. “Careful, darlin’. A wrong move could prove my ruination.”

  Her tiny sound and caught breath enticed him to lower his head and taste the small beauty mark above the left corner of her lip.

  Their breaths mingled. Hers was mint sweet and warm. He started to close his eyes. Watching her lips part, seeing for himself the intriguing space between her two lower front teeth, had him licking his lips.

  Suddenly he jerked his head back, forgetting all his own caution about moving too fast. What the hell was he doing? He was going to kiss her? This was Muldoon!

  A twist of his body brought him to her side. He yanked the pistol out of her hand before she could react. Kell tossed the weapon across the room and placed one splayed hand on her upper chest to pin her in place.

  “Don’t,” he grated from between clenched teeth, “if you know what’s good for you, move.”

  It wasn’t the warning in his voice that held Annie in place. It wasn’t even the hard strength of his hand spread on her upper body. It was the chilling impact of his eyes that had been so blazingly warm moments ago.

  “Next to liking a woman who knows her place, I like a woman who listens and obeys.” Her mouth formed a tight, mutinous line, but she didn’t move.

  “You owe me, Muldoon. And I always collect my debts. I haven’t even decided yet how much you owe me. Just rest assured and bet your sweet bottom that you will. What’s more,” he added, leaning closer, “you’ll pay every damned dollar of it.”

  “No.”

  “No?” he repeated in a soft voice, so soft that it would take the most discerning ear to catch the quiet fury underlying the word.

  Kell brought the tip of his nose to the snooty angle of hers. She had a plucky sort of courage, he admitted. Too bad she didn’t have some horse sense to go with it.

  “Don’t bait me, darlin’. You’ll lose every time. Didn’t your mama ever teach you not to challenge a man when he’s in your bedroom, on your bed, and a hell of a lot bigger than you?”

  “My mama, Mr. York, supposed the only man in my bedroom and on my bed, would have the right to be there. You sir, are not my husband. You sir, have no right—”

  “Maybe not and thank the Lord for that. But, sweet thing, I’ve got you at my mercy and that gives me a lot of right. What’s more, no one is coming to rescue you.”

  Annie barely managed to inch backward so that his nose now grazed her chin. Sweet heaven, but he was too close! She squinted up at him. “You don’t have any mercy. That’s what you claimed. Are you a liar too, Mr. York?”

  “Another sin you’re lookin’ to lay on me? Wasn’t enough to call me a gamblin’, drunken prince of vices? Don’t matter none. I’ll lie when I need to.”

  “Well, I do not lie. I had nothing to do with the fire that destroyed your home-wrecking establishment. So I don’t owe you anything, Mr. York. Now, you had better let me up.”

  “Or?”

  Annie released a shuddering breath. She looked directly into his eyes. “Or I shall expire right before you, Mr. York.”

  “Expire? You wouldn’t dare.” Kell didn’t move. He searched her features. “You’re not the fainting kind.”

  “Would you believe I could surprise you?”

  “Oh, you surprised me all right, darlin’. And if I was a man looking to cause himself some grief and pain I’d find out what other surprises you have in store.” The moment the words were out he regretted them. Kell always sensed trouble by the crick in his neck. And the crick said it was time to cut and run. But she was pursing that luscious mouth as if bad taste were contagious. So he told his crick to go to hell.

  “I have none for the likes of you. You do not know me, Mr. York. Do not be so arrogant as to lump me with the sort of women you have so obviously been consorting with.”

  “At least they were women, Muldoon. Damn proud of the fact. Something I doubt you know anything about.” Kell pressed his hand harder to hold her still. His thumb and forefinger rested on either side of her neck. A smooth, slender throat, he absently noted, whose pulse was so rapid he couldn’t count it. Didn’t want to. The heel of his palm was nicely cushioned by the full upper curves of her breasts.

  Two thin layers of cotton cloth couldn’t hide the warmth or the fragrant scent of her skin rising and flowing inside him with every breath.

  He was accustomed to women reacting with fascination, at least intense interest, when they caught his eye. It had been a curse to both him and Kyle until they understood what a blessing their good looks could be. But there wasn’t any physical awareness of him in Annie Muldoon’s eyes. Her gaze was as steady and about as friendly as a cardsharp’s who’d been caught cheating.

  Kell had had enough. He rolled off the bed and stood looking down at her. It wasn’t even a h
ardship. Cloth was caught up around her knees, revealing shapely calves and ankles. He grinned, thinking he’d win a bet that no man had ever seen them. Slowly, his body came alive, nerve endings sending an alert surging through him. He was exhausted, but suddenly he was aware of how much woman Annie Muldoon appeared to be.

  It was short-lived. He was a man who prided himself on his control. With a snort of disgust for his unruly reaction to her, he turned away.

  Annie scrambled off the bed and stood on the other side, clutching her wrapper together. Her senses were clouded, and she had to shake her head to get rid of the feeling that she had just had a close call with more man and danger than she knew how to handle.

  “What are you waiting for?” she asked, unable to look away from the tear in his shirt or the way the damp blue cloth clung to his back.

  “I’m deciding,” he answered after a moment, “whether I believe you had nothing to do with the fire. You can’t deny that you lead that gaggle of do-gooders trying to close me down. You tried to do it to my brother before he died. But—”

  “We—that is, I—had nothing to do with Kyle’s death!”

  “Oh, I know that, Muldoon. My brother died a happy man, doing what he loved best. He didn’t name his place the Silken Aces for those sweet little winners in a deck of cards. He was thinking about the silken spread of a—”

  “Oh, my good Lord! Don’t you dare—do you hear me, Mr. York—not one more word about where he got that name from.”

  “It’s not an it, but a she. Only you wouldn’t understand a man’s way of thinking.”

  “And proudly admit it,” she countered. “That is the most positively indecent thing I’ve ever had to hear.”

  “Well, get used to it, Muldoon.” Kell raked back his collar-length hair, dying for bed and bath, then set his hands on his hips. He refused to turn and look at her.

  “Stop interrupting me. There is nothing indecent about a man giving up the ghost while he’s in the saddle—one, which you should know ’cause of all your preachin’, that the good Lord you’re so fond of quoting made expressly for a man.” For some reason her gasp of outrage pleased him. “And my brother was with a woman he cared about. But you, Miss Starch and Vinegar, wouldn’t know a damn thing about that either.”

  “That is enough! I want you out of my room this minute. I want you and those people who followed you here to see your unconscionable behavior out of my boarding-house.”

  Kell spun and came around the bed so fast that Annie slammed against the wall trying to escape him. The difference in their height didn’t intimidate her. The blaze of fury on his hard, lean-cheeked face did.

  Still, she glared up at him.

  He smiled. “Muldoon, let me be the first to inform you that I’m taking up residence here.”

  “You can’t. I do not rent rooms to your sort.”

  Kell leaned close. “Sort? And you dare say it like you just ate a crate of lemons?”

  “I like lemons,” she whispered, nervously licking her bottom lip.

  “I don’t.” Kell didn’t even blink uttering the lie. Fact was, he’d been drawing in the faint scent of lemon from the moment he’d gotten near her. And he didn’t like what it was doing to him one damn bit.

  “Muldoon,” he pressed closer to say, “in case you’re blind, look again. I’m not a sort. I’m a man.”

  Annie tried to push out the wall behind her to escape. It was a foolish thought. Almost as foolish as Kellian York’s statement that she might be blind and not know he was a man. If her eyes hadn’t registered the fact, there were other body parts achingly aware and more than ready to explain it to her.

  For the first time in her life, she truly thought she would faint. “Please,” she pleaded, raising one hand and fluttering it between them. She didn’t have the courage to shove him.

  “Aim to, every time, any way I can, darlin’.”

  “You are crude. I want you to leave.”

  “Stayin’, Muldoon. And you ain’t being given a choice.” Kell caught her hand, no longer denying his own unexplainable need to touch her. His fingers slid beneath the loose sleeve of the wrapper. The warmth of her skin under his palm tempted him to do more, but he resisted. He’d gotten what he wanted. He rather liked the alarmed look she shot at his hand. Just like a skittish filly coming under her first bridling.

  He skimmed the slender length of her forearm, deliberately trailing his fingers down the back of her hand, then stopped.

  “Just so we understand each other, Muldoon—”

  “Miss Muldoon to you.”

  “Muldoon. There’s a contingent of angry men waiting to hang you for destroying my place. Be nice to me, darlin’, or I’ll let them have you.”

  “Do not call me darling. It implies an intimacy that could never exist between us, Mr. York. I would never allow it.”

  “I ain’t asked you to. Like I said before, you’ll bring some poor bastard nothing but grief and pain.”

  Annie was trembling with rage and fear. She dug deep and found there was a small unused store of courage. With a look of disdain she removed his hand from hers.

  “I know most of those men. I will explain to them that I had nothing to do with the fire. None of the women who belong to the Legion for Decency and hope for civilized behavior in Loving would condone a fire that could have taken someone’s life.”

  Kell allowed her to slide past him. “They’re in an ugly mood. Wanted to stop and get a new rope from the mercantile.” He saw her hand creep up and cradle her throat. “You’ve taken away their pleasures for the next few weeks.”

  “Pleasures? Ha! Devil’s pastimes is more like it. At least their wives will know where they are and have a chance to redeem them.”

  “Spare me your Sunday morning sermon.” But do let me see more of that frankly arousing hip-swinging walk of yours, Muldoon. As if she had heard his silent request, Annie stopped pacing. “I’ve made my decision,” he said. “I’m taking rooms here until I can rebuild.”

  “Rebuild? Rooms here?” Annie repeated. “No! Most definitely not. You can’t stay here. And those women who work for you … no! I will not have such … such—”

  “Wash the floor with your sanctimonious attitude, Muldoon. I said you had no choice and I meant it.” Kell waited for his threat to sink in. He didn’t have to wait long. She spun around and finally faced him.

  He lifted his hand and rested it on the canted butt of his gun. “Understand? No choice. The Cozy Rest has enough rooms for my needs. It’s the only place in town that does.”

  “You can’t have the rooms. I won’t have those women—”

  Kell’s hold on his temper slipped a few notches. “Say ‘those women’ in that prissed-up voice once more and I’ll wash your mouth out with soap. That’s for a start. They’ve been up all night fighting the fire. Each one hauled water. Don’t you dare say they’re not good enough to stay here. I oughta haul you over my knee and give you what for so you never do it again.”

  “Try it and it’ll be the last thing you do with those hands.”

  “Empty threats, Muldoon. And don’t I know it. What’s got you pursin’ that mouth? Worried about the doves? Don’t be. They wouldn’t think of selling their sexual favors here and soiling your precious virginal white sheets. Likely they’d feel as repressed as I do just being in the same room with you.”

  Annie stared at him in mortification, eyes wide and color burning her cheeks. No one had ever dared to speak to her in such a crude manner. Not even his brother Kyle (the good Lord rest his soul, if He could find Kyle) had boldly uttered words that had no place in a decent woman’s vocabulary.

  There Kellian York stood, bold and brassy, gazing at her without an ounce of apology or remorse. He was unprincipled. Amoral. The man oozed bad with every evil connotation of the word as written in the Good Book.

  “So, tell me, darlin’,” he murmured in a soft, dangerous voice, spreading his legs in an aggressive st
ance, hands held out to his sides. “What’s it going to be? Me and the doves or the hanging party waiting outside to stretch your pretty little neck?”

  Chapter 3

  Annie stroked her throat, thinking about his threat. She forced herself to swallow the lump choking her. The men had put up resistance to the idea of closing the Silken Aces when the women had begun their campaign. He could be telling her the truth.

  How had she ever got herself into this pickle barrel? One look at the stern, almost brooding expression on Kellian York’s face and she knew there was no help to be had from him.

  “Well?” he prompted. He grinned as apprehension flashed in her dark blue eyes.

  Annie didn’t understand why she was still infuriated by his remark that she was repressed. His astounding lack of manners, the fact that he was blackmailing her, and his invasion of her room should have been the only reasons she was angry.

  “Let me be sure that I heard you correctly, Mr. York. You are threatening me with hanging unless I allow you and those instruments of vice to stay here?”

  “Instruments of vice? What’s wrong with you, lady? The doves are women. Oh,” he said, lowering his arms and shoving his hands into his pants pockets to stop from shaking her from her holier-than-thou platform. “How could I forget? You don’t know anything about being a woman. But do let me be the first to give you a prize, Muldoon. You got it right on the first try.”

  “Stop insulting me.”

  Kell’s gaze raked from where sunlight was now glistening on her hair to her bare feet. “Honey, it ain’t all that hard to do.”

  “Enough.”

  “Muldoon, I’d sell my soul to the devil before I’d take charity or be in debt to you. I’ll pay for the rooms at your regular rate.”

  “I’m sure the devil already owns your soul, if you have one, Mr. York.” Annie stared at him with grim relish.

  “Darlin’, I’ll ask the next time I see him. As for the rooms, the doves can share three to a room, so that’s two. Pockets and Bronc can double up in one. Li needs—”

 

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