by Jane Archer
"No, Jake. Don't do this to me. Please," Alexandra pleaded as he dragged her down a long hall, then kicked open a door.
He strode into the room, locking the door behind him. "Get your clothes off, Alex. I want to see you as all those other men have seen you." And he began removing his own clothing.
She cowered on the bed. Jake frightened her. He was like a madman. He hated her so much he might really kill her. He would kill her if she didn't do what he said. No one would ever find her body. She was alone in Texas, no one knew where she was. This was worse than anything that had ever happened to her before. Jake was like flint, unbending, unfeeling, only determined to take what he wanted. Well, all right, if he wanted her to play the whore, she would. It didn't matter any more; nothing mattered any more.
Calmly, she got off the bed. She began by taking the pins out of her hair. Jake stopped, stilled like an animal with a scent, his hands on the buckle of his belt, his hard, bronzed chest bared before her, as his blue, too blue, eyes watched her suspiciously, yet with complete absorption. Slowly, watching Jake, she pulled out the last pin and felt her hair tumble down all around her. She could feel his desire like a tangible thing in the room.
Next came her jacket, revealing her sheer silk blouse. She hesitated.
"I don't believe the time to stop is now, my dear," Jake said dryly.
Alexandra flushed with anger, then continued. She unbuttoned the shirt, slipped it off. Only her thin chemise covered her breasts and she saw his eyes narrow as he watched her movements. The skirt and petticoats were then unhooked, sliding off her almost of their own accord. She stood before him in her sheer chemise and her high boots. What a ridiculous sight, she thought.
Jake smiled coldly, then advanced toward her. "I believe we really should remove the boots, Alex."
He wasn't making it easy for her, she thought, but then he believed the worst of her. He pushed her back against the bed, grabbed one foot, pulled the boot off and then the other. Now she wore nothing except the sheer chemise which concealed very little.
"I see my memory wasn't as good as I thought, Alex," he said thoughtfully as his eyes raked her body.
She glared at him, hating his insolence.
"You are more beautiful, more sensuous than a man could remember and not go crazy wanting you. It must be worth quite a lot to you?"
She flushed angrily. "I don't sell my body, Jake. I've never even given it willingly."
He laughed harshly. "You're giving it to me now, aren't you?"
She didn't answer, trying to control her growing temper.
"Aren't you?"
"No. Yes. Whatever you want to think. I don't care," Alexandra said dully.
"There's no need to pout just because I won't pay you for your services, Alexandra. Now, come over here and finish undressing me."
"What?" she asked, her eyes flashing dangerously.
"Come here. You know what to do."
Clenching her jaws, she walked slowly over to him, then reached out, not touching his skin, and unbuckled his belt, then undid his pants. They slid to the floor. Backing away, her eyes caught on the object that was to claim her; it was erect and pulsating with need. She backed away as Jake walked toward her.
"I, I—no, Jake, please."
"Are you still playing the innocent girl for me? Don't! It doesn't fit anymore, Alex. I know what you are. Now, play the whore with me, or—"
She looked up and his threatening face convinced her that she must go through it. Hesitantly she extended her hands toward his chest, but he caught them, lowering them until they surrounded his hot, pulsing member. She moaned low in her throat as his hands covered hers, moving with hers, teaching her the rhythm.
She heard a sound and looked up. Jake's face was tight, his eyes dark. He looked at her in almost pain and said, "God, Alexandra. What you can do to a man should be outlawed. No wonder you can make your way with it. Now on the bed, Alex."
She backed away from him. There was still time if she could just get to the door. She looked nervously across the room toward her possible escape.
"No, Alex. Don't try it," Jake said, seeing the direction of her eyes.
Alexandra knew the situation was hopeless. He'd kill her, she was sure. So she got into the bed, moving to the edge. Jake got in with her, watching her with his intense blue eyes. He stretched out, his body ready for her.
"Now, Alexandra, show me how a whore treats a man. But first, the last of your clothes."
Alexandra blanched, then said, "No, Jake. I don't know how, and I, I—"
"Stop playing your coy games, they don't interest me."
"Oh, Jake—"
"Alexandra," he said, menacingly.
Closing her eyes, Alexandra pulled the chemise up and off her body, flinging it away. Tentatively, she leaned over him, not touching his body. His arms came around and he crushed her lips to his. They were warm, firm and something stirred deep within her, memories returned, unbidden, and she parted her lips. She slipped her tongue into his waiting mouth almost hesitantly, softly and was met by his swiftly attacking tongue. She moaned, ready to retreat, but her head was caught by his hand and her mouth molded against his own. His kisses sent shivers over her, causing a burning to start in her loins. She moaned again, remembering how he'd done this to her before. She'd not felt it since they'd parted.
Jake could not wait for her slow feminine tricks. His desire was quick, hot, and had to be satisfied. What did this woman have that made him forget all others. He had vowed never to look for her after he'd seen her in the arms of his brother, but here he was with her. He couldn't help himself. He rolled over on top of her, reveling in the feel of her soft flesh under his body, her soft hair entwined in his hands as he tasted her sweet mouth. God, but he'd missed her, needed her, wanted her. No matter that she was a cheat, a whore, a liar. He wanted her! He could not deny that; no matter what she was, he couldn't stay away from her.
He whispered words in her ears, words in French and Spanish that she couldn't understand, but it didn't matter. All that mattered to Alexandra was the feel of his body on hers, his lips traveling over her face, covering her in kisses, his hands moving over her body, searing her bare flesh wherever they touched. Her body ached all over for him, she wanted to feel him inside her, she needed him as she'd never needed anything before. What was wrong with her? He was treating her like a whore and she wanted it, him, anything so long as he satisfied the burning deep within her.
Moving down her body, his lips nibbled her soft flesh and he could feel her surrender to him. He captured one taut pink nipple with his mouth, plying it with his tongue until it stood up hard, demanding more. He caressed the other, too, before moving lower, lower. He had to control himself not to take her quickly, harshly. He wanted her to feel what he did. He wanted her to respond to him as he'd seen her respond to Giles. He wanted to burn out every other man who'd gone before him.
Moving still lower, he parted her legs, exposing the soft warm pinkness that he knew awaited him. He heard Alexandra moan, but she didn't fight him this time, or struggle. Instead, he felt her hands in his hair, pulling, almost beseeching. Not yet, he thought, not yet. Hungrily, he plunged his tongue into her softness. He felt her arch up against him and cry out softly. He moved inside her swiftly, quickly, carrying her along to what he knew she could experience. She groaned louder, pulling his hair, moaning.
He couldn't get enough.
She couldn't get enough.
She tasted of all the delights he could imagine and his tongue darted swiftly, expertly, bringing Alexandra to ecstasy and back again. His knees between her thighs, he poised over her, almost unable to wait any longer himself.
"Jake. Jake," she moaned softly, weak and pliant, wanting only more of what he could give her.
"Yes, Alex, now. Now," he said as he let his throbbing member press gently against her, making her want him. Then he pushed into her, slipping in easily for she was ready, anxious for him. He smiled to himself. She wasn't fig
hting him. No, she welcomed him—as she had others. Others! He thrust harder. She moaned, her eyes fluttering open, then closing as his mouth came down hard on hers. He drove harder into her, feeling her softness catch him, caress him, hold him inside. He groaned, knowing that he should stop, not give her the pleasure that she wanted now, begged for, but there was no way he could stop, no way he could leave her unsatisfied. He moved swiftly in and out, in and out, and she held him to her, murmuring his name over and over, returning his kisses with all the passion he knew she was capable of. Christ! She kissed like a whore, made love like one, demanded like one. How could he ever have thought she was a lady? A lady didn't make love like this. But all thoughts were driven from his mind as he moved deeply into her, driving everything from their minds except the ultimate peak of pleasure.
Slowly, their panting, satisfied bodies relaxed. Jake continued to hold Alexandra to him, murmuring soft words to her. But she stirred under him and he rolled off, complete reality returning to him. God, she'd done it to him again; made him forget his anger, his frustration, how much he hated her. It was her whore's tricks that made him want her so much. She was an expert, that's what she was.
Alexandra lay there, trying to regain her composure. How could this man who treated her so badly, who hated her, take her to the brink of complete forgetfulness and beyond? Why was he the only man she responded to? With Jake, she cared for nothing else, except to be in his arms, held close to him. No, she mustn't let herself feel this way. He had used her, no matter what else. He had insulted her. He believed her to be a whore. But for the moment she didn't want to do anything to break their peace. She knew it wouldn't last long and she didn't want to feel the usual fury that consumed her in his presence. Why did he treat her so badly?
"You shouldn't have come, Alex. You know I can't keep away from you. It's no good, you being what you are, but I won't let you go now that you're here, not until I can get you out of my blood," Jake said, his voice distant again.
Alexandra felt her body tighten. "I didn't know who you were. How was I to know you were Jacob Jarmon. How could I possibly know?"
"I don't want to hear your lies, Alex. I know what you are. You found out about my family from Giles and from Bella, too, probably, but what game you're playing with me won't work."
"It's no game, Jake. Why won't you listen to me? Why must you just always use me?"
"Use you! Hell! I'm the one that keeps getting used, and you won't do it anymore," he said, his body tense, his voice hard and cold.
"I don't want to. I just want to leave. Let me go, Jake. You believe the worst of me so let me go."
He grinned suddenly and turned to look at her, running a finger down her naked body. "Let you go? My dear, do you have any idea of how scarce beautiful women are in Texas? And you're exceptional. I'd be a fool to let you go, and I'm no fool, at least not that kind."
Alexandra looked away from him, feeling horribly trapped. What would Jake do with her now?
"You'll stay here, Alexandra, and serve me for a change, and I'd better not catch you with any other man or I'll horsewhip you."
Alexandra turned pale, her eyes dilating with fear as she remembered Giles and his whip. "You wouldn't, you wouldn't do that, would you, Jake?" she implored.
Jake frowned, looking at her closely, surprised by her reaction. What would she know of a whip? It was just a threat. He'd never mar her body. Still, it was strange. She watched him now as if she was truly afraid. He stroked her cheek gently, then said, "What do you know about whips, Alex?"
Her color mounted. She'd never tell him. "Nothing, Jake. Nothing. It sounds dreadful, that's all."
She looked away from his blue eyes. Sometimes she could get lost in them, lost in their blueness, but now they were hard, closed to her. She felt alone and helpless.
"You're going to work, Alex, work as you never have before, and it won't be on your back this time. Don't cross me, Alex, and we'll get on fine, but if you do—" He laughed coldly. "You see, my dear, you belong to me now. Only to me."
Chapter 19
Banging noisily around the dirty kitchen, Alexandra mumbled furiously under her breath. Not that there was anyone to hear her. They'd all gone, leaving her completely alone in the hacienda. Jake had made her get right out of bed after he'd finished with her. She'd dressed hurriedly again in her riding habit since he hadn't given her time to find something more suitable in her bags.
And, on top of everything else, he'd had the nerve to move her valises into his room. She was so embarrassed. How would she ever explain the situation to his uncle? How could he treat her so badly? He'd quickly shown her the kitchen, then how to cook beans. Beans! She'd learned a little about cooking on the plantation, but the food here was entirely different. And he'd had the nerve to tell her that she was taking the place of Rosa, a Mexican girl who had worked here before. She supposed he'd used this Rosa in his bed, too!
Alexandra stirred the beans slowly, mechanically as they came to a boil, then decided that she could do nothing more for them. The kitchen would have to be cleaned, but not in her riding habit. It was the only one she had. She would simply have to change to something more suitable.
Going back to Jake's bedroom, her bedroom now, Alexandra opened her bags and looked through the assortment of gowns. They all looked heavy, hot, and completely inappropriate for cleaning a kitchen. They even seemed wrong to wear in the hacienda. She would undoubtedly ruin them in no time cleaning. Well, there was nothing to be done, unless—
She slipped out of her riding habit, then folded it carefully before laying it on top of one of the bags. She stood there in her sheer chemise, reveling in the coolness without the hot clothing. She would simply not put anything else on. The men wouldn't be back until late and no one would see her. She'd have time to take a bath and dress before anyone returned. Pleased with her plan, she padded, barefoot, back to the kitchen.
Men, she thought as she looked around herself, had no conception of what a kitchen was supposed to be like. Not that she'd had that much experience, but she'd learned a lot from Ebba. She began sorting the food, putting it away after she'd scrubbed the shelves. It was hard, dirty work, but there was satisfaction in the job, too. The beans were finally getting soft, and she decided to put another large pot of water on to boil, planning to bathe when she finished the kitchen.
Looking up later, she realized that the day was getting on—soon it would be sundown. She thought she heard something outside, but it was too early for Jake and Lamar. She hesitated, listening, but when there was no other noise, she turned back to survey the room. It was sparkling clean. Pushing a strand of hair back from her hot, sweaty face, Alexandra looked up at the open door.
She froze. A man stood there watching her, showing white teeth against a dark, swarthy face as he grinned, his eyes appraising her almost nude body. He was a slight man dressed in dark pants, high boots, a dark red shirt, a blue bandanna tied loosely around his neck; his face was shadowed by a huge, wide brimmed sombrero. His eyes were small, beady and black, and they raked her insolently as he leaned against the door jam, his right hand hovering near the six gun slung low on his hip.
There was only one word for him—deadly. She shuddered, wishing for the first time that Jake had not left her alone. This Mexican was terrifying.
"I've no plan to harm you, chica. Heard about the calvalry patrol and the fine lady they escorted here. Gets a man's curiosity up. You're a pretty gringa, aren't you? Jake's had a change in taste, I see."
"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm here to visit his uncle, Lamar Jarmon."
The hard black eyes swept over her again, then back to her pale face, with chin held high. "Maybe, little one, maybe, but I know this hombre. You're Jake's woman."
Alexandra flushed vividly red, only too aware of her lack of clothing and this man's leering eyes. "If you don't mind, I'd like to change. Jake and Lamar will return shortly and if you'd care to wait—"
"I'm not here to see them, se�
�orita. I'm here to see you, and you've made that very easy."
"Well you've seen all you're going to see. Now leave!" Alexandra hissed, forgetting the gun in her growing anger.
"Temper? Nice, real nice. I like you. Jake won't mind sharing you with me. After all, I shared Rosa with him until he kicked her out."
"Rosa?" Alexandra asked, a cold feeling beginning to grow in the pit of her stomach.
"Sure, my intended, Rosa. She worked here as a cook, a housekeeper. She was Jake's woman for a while—until he got tired of her."
"Well, I know nothing about that. It happened before I came and doesn't concern me in the least," Alexandra said haughtily.
"It concerns you now, chica. Jake took my woman. I take his. Then we're even. Si?"
"No!"
"You talk too much, little one," he said, beginning to move toward Alexandra.
She stepped back, watching him warily, then screamed before turning to run out of the kitchen.
She could hear his spurs jangling as he came after her. Suddenly, she slipped on one of the rugs and fell heavily to the hard floor of the main room. Groaning, she tried to get up again, but he was on her immediately, grabbing her hands and pulling them up high over her head as he straddled her legs, pinning her to the floor. She screamed and screamed. Someone had to hear her! Cursing a long string of oaths in Mexican and English, the man slapped Alexandra hard across her face.
With his free hand, the man felt of her body, barely covered by the sheer chemise, with quick, experienced movements. She twisted in his grip, trying to free herself. He strengthened his hold, hurting her painfully as she struggled against him, trying to kick, bite, scratch, but he held her pinned to the floor.
"You're a wildcat, aren't you, chica?" he asked hoarsely as his hand reached for the buckle of his belt and began to unfasten it. His black eyes held her wide, green ones, filled with hate and loathing. "That's all the better. I like that. I only wish my Rosa had fought so well."