Spellbound

by Sharon Ihle

Where were her accusations? Gant wondered. Why hadn’t she demanded that he leave? Surely she’d been dancing for her own private reasons, possibly for Hans. Realizing that the lion-tamer might be near by, Gant quickly checked the narrow hallway behind him. Empty. He turned back to Rayna. She was still staring at him. Still panting. Waiting.

  Gant swallowed, surprised at the difficulty, and tried to think of what to say, what to do. He figured he ought to speak to her, to say something. What if she’d been asleep as he’d first suspected, and didn’t realize the kind of performance she’d put on for him?

  With an impatient tap of her foot, Rayna whispered, “Are you going to stand there all night?”

  Done with thinking, not that he could manage it anyway, Gant crossed the distance between them in two long strides. Then he scooped Rayna into his arms. She not only allowed his embrace, but slithered up against him. When she arched her neck and looked into his eyes, he could hardly believe the invitation in them, the overt seduction. Clearly the woman was wide awake.

  Again Gant felt that he should speak, at least to warn her about how far gone he was, and that he couldn’t be responsible if she didn’t ask him to leave, and leave now. But she knew. She must have known given the fact that her hips were pressed firmly against his. And what of those lips? They were parted, ready for him, her tongue moist and expectant, the tip sliding along her upper lip. Gant dove into that sweet mouth without another thought of turning back.

  As before, their kiss erupted into raw desire, a kind of frantic need Gant had never known before. Swept away by the sensations, by Rayna, he indulged himself. His hands, eager, thrilled to be touching any part of her, slid down Rayna’s spine to the soft curve of her bottom. Tugging her ever closer, grinding her pelvis against his fierce erection, he gathered great wads of crimson and black cotton into his hands, and then hiked up her skirt, pulling it out of the way until his hands touch flesh. Soft, exposed flesh.

  Gant tore his lips from hers. His tongue thick, barely able to manage speech, he blurted out, “Y-you, you are naked.”

  Rayna laughed, a husky, smoky sound. “So I am. I was expecting you.”

  “You were?” Stunned, immediately thinking of Hans and that she somehow had her men confused, he said, “Are you sure it’s me you were expecting, me that you want?”

  Rayna made a sound in her throat, something akin to a purr. “Yes, I want you, Gant. Only you.”

  “Jesus,” he whispered hoarsely. “Sweet Jesus.”

  Then nothing, not even the wild beasts aboard ship, could have stopped him. Gant dropped to the blanket, dragging Rayna down with him, and then released her just long enough to kick off his boots and Levis. When he returned to her, she had already slipped out of her blouse and skirt. And lay waiting for him.

  Savoring the sight of her luscious body for only a moment, the longest he could bear, Gant parted Rayna’s ankles, and then moved up between her legs.

  Hovering above her, his control as wobbly as he knees, he offered his last lucid thought. ”We’re no good for each other, you know.”

  “I know,” she said with another husky laugh. “That’s exactly why I thought we’d be so good together in the straw. You know what they say--birds of a feather, ah, flock together.”

  Not that Gant needed any more encouragement, but those words drove him over the edge. His mouth came down on hers, and then he worked himself into her moist haven. As he began thrusting within in her, hardly able to believe that he could feel so much so fast, he became consumed with one thought; no innocent, Rayna, but hot, tight—his. At the realization that she was truly his, at least for this moment, a desire so intense, so powerful that it couldn’t be harnessed, rose up in Gant and took him on a wild and reckless course toward fulfillment, a path so singular in its purpose, he couldn’t have stopped it if his life depended on it. He came in a sudden fury that surprised even him, leaving him barely able to draw a breath, incapable of speech or apologies. Then he collapsed against Rayna’s breasts, winded and spent.

  Smiling despite the fact that her body still burned with desire, Rayna slipped her fingers into Gant’s hair and held his head between her hands until his breathing was more regular. When he finally lifted his chin, he turned his head to the side and gently kissed her palm. Then, as he moved to roll off of her, Rayna coiled a few sable strands of his hair around her fingers, holding him in place.

  “No, Gaje,” she whispered wickedly. “You’re not going anywhere. I’m not done with you yet.”

  *

  Several hours later, a worn but completely contented Rayna quietly let herself back into her cabin. The first fingers of dawn had already draped themselves across her windowsill. Soon it would be light. Tiptoeing to where she’d hastily dropped her nightgown, Rayna bent down to pick it up. From behind her, Maria’s raspy voice froze her in that position.

  “Where have you been all night?” she asked suspiciously.

  Still bent over, Rayna plucked her nightgown off of the floor, and quickly said the first thing that came to mind. “I couldn’t sleep. I took a walk.”

  Maria hopped off of the lower bunk and padded over by the window. Waiting until Rayna had finished stripping off her clothing, and then slipped into her nightgown, she quietly said, “Sit down, please.”

  Groaning wearily, Rayna sank down on the trunk and turned to her mother. “I’m very tired. I just want to go to bed.”

  But Maria wouldn’t be put off so easily. She paced in front of the trunk, studying her daughter’s flushed cheeks and mussed hair, and then settled on the thing that disturbed her the most. The faraway, dreamy look in her soft green eyes.

  Stopping there in front of the trunk, she braced her tiny hands against Rayna’s knees. “You were with him. The Gaje.”

  Unable to look her mother in the eye, she said, “Please don’t start that again. Just let me get some sleep.”

  “There will be no rest for either of us if what I suspect is true. Now tell me—did you lie with him?”

  Rayna sighed and looked away. There was no denying her mother’s accusations. How could she possibly hide the most wonderfully satisfying night of her life? Those stolen hours with Gant felt as if they were radiating from every pore, pulsing through her body with such a thunderous roar, her joy must have been deafening. Maria wasn’t simply guessing. She knew. How could she not?

  Tugging at the ends of the long satin ribbons on her gown, Rayna finally met her mother’s gaze and said, “Yes, we stole a few moments of passion.”

  Maria nearly choked on a sob. “Why? Did I not warn you of the consequences? I should have done the spell, or at least secured your safety with an amulet.”

  “There’s no need for spells or amulets,” Rayna argued. “I was only looking for a little amusement. No harm has been done.”

  “No harm? Don’t you understand what you’ve done to yourself? You will suffer terribly for this. I can see it in your eyes.”

  Again Rayna sighed. “The only thing you see in my eyes is exhaustion. I’d really like to get some sleep now.”

  “Why won’t you see?” Maria’s tone was no longer accusing, but angry. “Why won’t you look at yourself, to the inside, and see what you’ve done?”

  “I don’t want to argue about this any longer. You wouldn’t understand, anyway.”

  Surprising Rayna, her mother puffed out her chest and cocked one hip. “I understand plenty of what goes on beneath the blanket,” she said proudly. “You think I know nothing of men? You think my small friend in New York taught me nothing but funny little tricks he learned in Germany?”

  Rayna’s eyes widened with surprise. “Daia.”

  “I know of what I speak.” Maria raised her fist and shook it. “I know these men. In the morning, Gant will have forgotten you. Even now as he lies on his bed, his thoughts are not of you, but of his conquest.”

  If there had been a conquest this night, and Rayna wasn’t sure there had been, it was hers. “I think you’re wrong, but even if you are right
, what he thinks about tonight doesn’t concern me. Why should it?”

  “Because you will care about him.” Maria patted her chest. “I think perhaps that you already do.”

  Because she could neither confirm nor deny this charge, Rayna said nothing.

  “I am right,” Maria declared. “Rest if you must, but when you awaken, nothing will have changed. You took this Gaje into your body, and even now, you still burn with the memory of his touch.”

  “You’re making too much of a simple act of passion. We’ll both forget about it by tomorrow.”

  “Would that it were so.” Maria rolled her eyes. “He will forget, in time, even your name, but you will remember him always.”

  Rayna scoffed at this. “I have known other men, and you have never seemed to mind so much.”

  “This one is different. We both know this is so.”

  When her mother was this passionate in her beliefs it frightened Rayna. The aura of evil, or whatever sent Maria into such a state, usually turned out to have some basis in fact. Gripped with a sudden panic, Rayna got up off the trunk and walked over to the window. As she stared out at the river the sun began to rise, splicing jagged veins of gold into the granite-smooth surface of the calm waters. A sudden thought came to her: All is not gold that glitters. Would Gant have thought of that same proverb at this sight? she wondered.

  In that moment, exhaustion aside, Rayna knew in her heart of hearts that her mother was right. Gant was nothing like the others, and yes, she did burn for him. Not in frustration or even lust, not at this moment anyway. He’d been out of control at first, but it had taken very little persuasion from her for Gant to become an eager and very apt lover. A man who was much more than merely satisfying.

  But that wasn’t what Rayna or Maria feared. It was what she’d allowed in herself at their joining. She hadn’t just unleashed her most primitive dance for Gant, she’d indulged in a forbidden fantasy, yielded to an impossible dream as she nestled in his arms. For those few hours, she’d let herself believe that he was hers, and would continue to be hers in every way a man can belong to a woman. She’d done the unthinkable.

  She’d let herself believe in love.

  Now too late and with her mother’s council, Rayna recognized her mistake. Now she burned for something she’d never missed before, a need that ran much deeper than anything physical. A desire only that Gant could fulfill. Maria had been right. Rayna knew that she would never be able to forget this night—or Gant. Not ever.

  The full impact of what she’d done settled down over Rayna, and the tears began to fall. And fall.

  *

  Stretched out on a narrow bunk in his cabin, Gant hadn’t forgotten a thing. Not only had he not forgotten, he was consumed by thoughts of Rayna. She’d given him one hell of a hell of a night. A night like he’d never had before, or even dreamed about. He’d had sex with women before to be sure, quick releases with the women his father rounded up now and again, or with an occasional camp follower who found temporary excitement hiding out with a gang of outlaws. Sex yes, but what he’d just experienced with Rayna was something else again.

  Gant didn’t know if it had a name, but she’d awakened needs in him he didn’t know he had, frustrated as many of those needs as she’d fulfilled. He was physically satisfied, to be sure, sated in a way he never realized he could be sated, but she’d done more than that. Somehow Rayna had opened something inside of him, a feeling that left Gant with a sense of longing, a yearning for something, an intangible thing he suspected he’d search for the rest of his life. Whatever it was, it certainly had more basis than mere sex.

  Thinking of that reminded Gant of the way he’d lost control with her, embarrassed himself as if he were an adolescent. Surprising him even more than his lack of control, was Rayna. She hadn’t shown the slightest hint of irritation. Quite the opposite. She seemed to relish the idea that he couldn’t control himself better with her, knew somehow that his sudden explosion was all her fault. And, of course, it was. Her dance had been his undoing, he convinced himself. He was lucky he got as far as he did before falling apart.

  Gant slid his hands beneath his head and closed his eyes. He smiled, remembering the evening. His chagrin after that first time hadn’t lasted any longer than he had. Rayna made sure of that. She made him feel at ease, and then began to move, bringing him to a new, higher plane of arousal much faster than he would have thought possible. After that she taught him a few things about herself. Using not words, but gestures, she took him on a pleasure tour that lasted until morning. She’d made him happy, done the impossible, and made him forget his troubles.

  For some reason, this prompted a return to of one of Gant’s favorite memories. In prison, a stray cat used to come around the yard. It cozied up to Gant and only Gant, and then gradually became the best friend he had during his incarceration. He named the animal Diablo. Wild and independent, the cat allowed the friendship on its own terms, offering just the smallest bits of itself for occasional stroking. Rayna had a lot in common with that cat. She let him know when she wanted petting and where, made her desires known in almost the same subtle way Diablo had. Generally the cat ran away after a quick petting session. Would Rayna?

  Few words had been spoken between them during the night. None of those words were of the future. None were of love. Did she expect that? Love or a future with him? Gant’s instincts told him no, that she was a woman in his own mold. Love was not on her agenda for the future, nor was a permanent relationship with him. He didn’t know this as fact, but sensed it. No complications. No talk of love.

  Gant drifted off to sleep then, vaguely disturbed by those final thoughts. When loud knocking sounded on his cabin door not two hours later, he had no idea who he was or where he might be. He was moving, rocking, and then he realized that the steamship had resumed her journey up river.

  Sitting upright on his bed, bleary-eyed and irritable, Gant demanded, “Who is it and what the hell do you want at this hour?”

  “It’s Sam, boss. I caught a stowaway. What should I do with him?”

  A stowaway? The first thing that came to Gant’s mind was the red-haired boy. Groggy and still irritable, he said, “Come on in.”

  The door opened and Sam stuck his head inside the room. “I found him hiding in the stables. Want me to toss him overboard?”

  Slowing coming around, Gant shook his head. “Where is he?”

  Sam pushed the door opened all the way, and then grabbed the stowaway by his shirt collar and dragged him into the room.

  The kid’s hands were bound behind his back, and his head was hanging so low that Gant couldn’t see his features. But he knew immediately who Sam held in his grasp.

  “J.R.?”

  The kid raised his head, allowing just a glimpse of those sad puppy dog eyes. He nodded, and then lowered his head again.

  “Oh, hell.” Gant leapt off of the bed. “Does Luther know you’re here?”

  Nine

  Sam released the stowaway’s collar. “You know this fellah, Gant?”

  “I sure do. I guess I forgot to mention that I invited him to ride along with us to the next town.”

  Gant tugged on his Levis and reached for his boots. As he pulled them on, he said, “You can go back to whatever you were doing, Sam. Sorry if he put a scare into you or anyone else.”

  Sam waved him off. “I don’t think anyone else knows he’s on board. There isn’t a soul stirring except for me and Mollie.”

  Sam ducked out of the cabin then and closed the door behind him.

  Fully dressed now, Gant tucked in the tails of his faded blue work shirt and said to his brother, “Please tell me that Luther isn’t onboard ship, too.”

  He shook his head. “It’s just me.”

  Gant breathed a sigh of relief. “Now tell me exactly what you were thinking when you sneaked aboard this ship.”

  J.R. dropped his gaze to the dusty wooden floor and gave a little shrug. “You said you wanted to get me some learning
. I thought maybe I’d take you up on the offer. It’s still open, isn’t it?”

  “Sure it is. I just didn’t expect you to take me up on it so soon.”

  “You mean you don’t want me here now?”

  “Not really,” Gant had to admit. “I didn’t get far enough into my plans for you to figure out when we’d get together.”

  J.R. sighed. “Then I guess I’ll just go throw myself overboard.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t plan ahead because I was pretty sure that Luther wouldn’t let you go. How did you talk him into it?”

  J.R. hung his head. “He don’t exactly know that I left.”

  Thoughts of Luther raiding the steamship in search of J.R. swirled in Gant’s mind. “Oh, hell. You’re in a world of trouble now.”

  “If’n you mean with Luther, I fixed it so it’d be all right.”