Wanton Angel

by Linda Lael Miller

  Seth nodded distractedly. “I’ve done my best to anticipate what goods will be needed,” he said, in businesslike tones, as he watched Bonnie scan and rescan the lists. “However, there are always variables in any undertaking of this magnitude, so we’ll probably require the odd item, here and there.”

  Bonnie set down the papers she’d been devouring with her eyes and tried to be calm, though inwardly she felt like jumping into the air and kicking her heels together for glee. “Of course,” she said. “I’ve been wondering, though—where are you going to get workers for this project?”

  “Some of them will have to be brought in from outside, I suppose,” Seth answered confidently, “but since Mr. McKutchen is cutting back the shift hours at the smelter from twelve to eight, I daresay some of the men will be glad of an opportunity to use those four free hours to earn some spare money.”

  Bonnie was sure that that was the case, and she hoped that some of the families would bring their store accounts up to date on the proceeds. Perhaps business would pick up, too, and the mercantile would become a paying proposition for once. “That is a wonderful idea, Seth,” she said.

  “Well, yes. Yes, indeed,” Seth sputtered, gripping the lapels of his coat in his hands. “You will be attending the public meeting on Sunday afternoon, I presume?”

  “Public meeting?”

  “Mr. McKutchen has hired the Pompeii Playhouse for the purpose.”

  Bonnie squared her shoulders. “Of course I’ll attend. After all, I’m the mayor of this town.”

  Seth blushed at the reminder; it was as though Bonnie had told him some silly and intimate secret. “Yes, well—good day, Mrs. McKutchen.”

  “Good day, Mr. Callahan.”

  The moment Seth had gone, Bonnie rushed to put a CLOSED sign in the front window and lock the door. “Katie!” she called.

  Katie came cautiously down the stairs. “Yes, ma’am? What is it?”

  “I’m going to Spokane on business. I would like you and Rose Marie to stay with Genoa until my return.”

  Katie loved visiting Genoa’s grand house, and she beamed at the prospect. “How long will you be away, ma’am?”

  “Two or three days at the most—I must be back by this Sunday.”

  “What about the store? Don’t you want me to keep it open and all?”

  “There would be absolutely no point in that, but I’ll leave a note in the window, telling people where to find you in case someone needs medicine or something.”

  Katie nodded and scurried upstairs to pack for herself and Rose Marie. Meanwhile, Bonnie stuffed dresses and clean underthings into a satchel and tried to figure how much money she would need for food and lodging while in Spokane. Seth had given her a large bank draft as a deposit on the goods ordered, but that, of course, would go to the suppliers.

  Downstairs, she checked the till and found that she had seven dollars and fourteen cents to her name. She would have to eat sparingly and take a room in the cheapest hotel to be found, for a round-trip railroad ticket would take fully half her money, but Bonnie was undaunted. This was her big chance and, if she had to, she would go hungry and sleep sitting up in the railroad station rather than let such an opportunity pass her by.

  As it happened, Genoa guessed the situation when the reason for the trip was explained to her. Not only was she willing to take Katie and Rose Marie under her wing while Bonnie was away, but she had the carriage brought around and rode with Bonnie to the depot. Just before Bonnie boarded the afternoon train, Genoa pressed a twenty-dollar bill into her hand.

  Bonnie tried to protest, but Genoa would have none of that. “You can pay me back when you’re rich and successful,” she insisted, fairly shoving Bonnie up the steps of the one passenger car the train boasted.

  Her vision blurred by a sheen of grateful tears, Bonnie did not notice the solitary passenger at the back of the car until Northridge was far behind.

  He was cowering behind the current issue of the Northridge News, but Bonnie recognized him all the same. She would know those strong, gold-dusted hands anywhere.

  “Are you following me?” she demanded, once the conductor had taken up tickets and disappeared into another car.

  Slowly, the newspaper descended, revealing a familiar face. Eli smiled broadly. “How could I have known that you would be on this train?” he countered reasonably.

  “I think it’s entirely possible that Genoa sent word to you at the hotel!”

  Eli smiled and gave his newspaper an insolent snap. “You flatter yourself, Bonnie. It so happens that I have business in Spokane. Business that has nothing whatsoever to do with you.”

  It would be fruitless to argue with the man. Biting her lower lip, Bonnie turned in her seat and forceably fixed her attention on the trees and the river slipping past her window. The rain had relented a little, but it was still coming down steadily, and the river looked higher and wilder than ever before. To keep from thinking about Eli, Bonnie fretted over the residents of Patch Town. They were too near the water, too vulnerable to it, and so were a number of other people. Webb, for one; his newspaper office would be swept away if the river rose to flood stage.

  Bonnie shivered and, just as she did, Eli sat down in the seat beside hers. She did not turn to look at him, even when he said her name. Perhaps, if she ignored him, he would go back to his seat at the rear of the car and leave her alone.

  There was a long silence, then Eli made a sound like a sigh of exasperation.

  “I lied,” he said.

  Bonnie was so surprised by his confession that she turned to face him, completely forgetting her earlier decision to ignore Eli McKutchen no matter what he did or said. “What?”

  “I have no business in Spokane.”

  Bonnie didn’t know how to respond to that. She felt just like the first time she’d ever come face-to-face with Eli; she had a sense of sweet alarm and a queer feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Genoa did send word, then.”

  “No. You told Seth and Seth told me.”

  Bonnie could not find it within herself to be angry with Seth, not after he’d saved her business from certain failure. She bit her lower lip again and dropped her eyes. “Don’t spoil this for me, Eli,” she said softly. “Please.”

  “I don’t want to spoil anything. I merely want a chance to talk to you without Seth or Genoa or Webb Hutcheson hanging around. And then there’s Forbes. Are you aware that he almost always knows where you are and what you’re doing?”

  Bonnie remembered a certain night, when she’d tried to take a simple bath in her kitchen, and blushed. She wouldn’t want Forbes or anyone else to know about that. “Forbes and I grew up together,” she said. “Other boys liked to collect spiders or play marbles, but Forbes had a different hobby. Watching me.”

  “I can’t say I blame him for that,” Eli muttered, though from his tone it sounded as though he did after all blame Forbes. “You’d think he would have taken up another interest by now, though, wouldn’t you?”

  Bonnie smiled in spite of herself. “Yes,” she replied. “But there is no explaining Forbes.”

  There must have been something in Bonnie’s smile or tone that Eli didn’t like, for he frowned. “You know, I think that bastard wants you for himself.”

  “Forbes might have entertained a notion or two along those lines at one time, but he’s long since accepted the fact that he and I aren’t destined to be together.”

  “Unlike you and Webb, you mean.”

  Bonnie felt color rising in her face. “I declare, Eli McKutchen, if you start ragging me about that again, I’ll get off this train at the very next stop!”

  “You’re not really married to Hutcheson, are you?” Eli persisted, and there was no trace of insult in his voice, only a certain vulnerability.

  Bonnie sighed. She had never been a very good liar and this particular falsehood was just too cumbersome to manage. “No. I’m not married to Webb.”

  Eli’s look of smug relief was irritating.

/>   “But that doesn’t mean I won’t marry Webb,” Bonnie pointed out quickly. “He has asked for my hand in marriage, and I may say yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?” Bonnie echoed, annoyed. “Because Webb Hutcheson is a very good man. A very gentle and honest man. He could give Rose and me a real home.”

  Mentioning Rose had been a mistake; Bonnie knew that an instant too late. Golden fire snapped in Eli’s eyes. “You don’t love him,” he said.

  “How do you know that?” Bonnie snapped. The pompous ass! Did Eli think he was the only man she could ever love? If he did think that, he was right, of course, but Bonnie had no intention of letting him find out. Ever. “It may be that Webb and I share a grand passion.”

  Eli subsided slightly, scowling, his arms folded across his chest. “A grand passion,” he muttered.

  Bonnie was warming to the subject. She became reckless. “You asked me the other day if I ‘carry on’ with Webb like I did with you. Well, I do. I not only yelp, I howl!”

  Behind them, the conductor cleared his throat. Bonnie was instantly mortified, for it hadn’t occurred to her that anyone would overhear what she’d said. Why couldn’t she learn to bridle her foolish and impulsive tongue? Why?

  Eli chuckled and shook his head as if in awe of Bonnie’s capacity to embarrass herself.

  “Next stop, Colville,” said the conductor, whom Bonnie recognized as the husband of one of the members of the Friday Afternoon Community Improvement Club. He had only to relate Bonnie’s rash words to his wife and the gossips would have another tidbit to brandish over their interminable cups of tea.

  Eli was laughing inside himself, Bonnie knew, but she couldn’t face him any more than she could face the conductor.

  “I hate you,” she hissed, when she and Eli were alone in the car again.

  “We’ll see about that.”

  Bonnie looked around, to make sure the conductor wasn’t nearby again. When she saw that the car was truly empty, she muttered, “What I just said was the truth! Webb drives me wild with passion!”

  Eli rose from his seat, but there was no rage in his face and no jealousy. Only a certain self-satisfied confidence that Bonnie was lying. Which, of course, she was.

  Eli disappeared for several minutes and Bonnie was just beginning to hope that he had decided to ride in the engine room when he returned, his golden eyes bright with an alarming sort of mischief.

  He sat down in the seat beside Bonnie and immediately caught her face in both his newly callused hands, forcing her to look at him. “We’ll see, my angel, who drives you wild with passion.”

  His lips were descending toward hers. She wanted to struggle but all she could think about was Eli’s mouth coming closer and closer. A shiver went through her, and the peaks of her breasts, hidden beneath her dress and camisole, suddenly burned.

  “You can’t do this—the conductor—we’ll be in Colville soon—”

  Eli chuckled and Bonnie felt the sound against her mouth, he was so close. “We won’t reach Colville for another half an hour,” he replied, “and you needn’t worry about the conductor. I bribed him to busy himself elsewhere.”

  Simultaneously Eli claimed Bonnie’s mouth with his own and his hand closed over one of her breasts. Bonnie felt her nipple quicken beneath his palm and stiffened, but she couldn’t break away. She made a whimpering sound of protest and of need as Eli’s kiss mastered her and brought her rebellion swiftly to heel. He continued to kiss and caress her until she was not only assenting but responding.

  Breaking the deep kiss to nibble at her lips, Eli opened the front of Bonnie’s dress and boldly slid his hand inside, beneath her camisole, to take her nipple between his fingers. At the same time, using his other hand, he was slowly raising her skirts.

  Bonnie trembled. What if the conductor comes back? she asked herself wildly. What if the train makes an unexpected stop? I can’t let this happen here, in a railroad car, in the broad light of day! So said Bonnie’s mind, but her body was of a different opinion, a primitive opinion. It craved the luscious attentions Eli was giving it and far more besides.

  “Oh,” she moaned, as she felt the strings holding her drawers in place give way under one tug of Eli’s fingers. “Oh, no—”

  “Oh, yes,” Eli said, his lips against hers again, and his hand slid down inside her muslin drawers to find what he sought. “I’m going to have you, Bonnie. Right here, and right now.”

  “You can’t—you mustn’t—oooooh—”

  Eli chuckled and went right on fondling Bonnie. She tried to sit staunchly, but it was all she could do to restrain her hips. They wanted to fly. “We’re all alone, Bonnie. Just you and me and our—wild passion.”

  Bonnie pulled away from his kiss, gasping. His fingers were driving her crazy. “Eli—please stop. I’m sorry for saying what I did about Webb—honest—”

  “Too late,” Eli mumbled, and then he bent his head and took full, leisurely suckle at the breast he had bared minutes before.

  Bonnie put one gloved hand over her mouth to stifle a cry of frenzied delight and her hips took full flight while her knees widened. She was in a fevered daze by the time Eli turned her so that she was kneeling astraddle of his lap. Blithely, as though such things were done every day, he tore her drawers away and opened his trousers.

  The warm prodding of his manhood was more than Bonnie’s body would allow her to resist. With a throaty cry, she took him inside herself.

  At this Eli moaned. He let his head fall back and closed his eyes, his hands firmly on Bonnie’s hips, guiding them, setting a slow pace. She watched as the cordlike muscles in his neck tightened, thinking not of scandal or shame but of how very desperately she loved this man.

  They moved slowly together for long minutes—the friction was a delicious ache in Bonnie—until the train suddenly began to rattle and shimmy. The unexpected motion brought both Bonnie and Eli to an instantaneous release. For Bonnie the climax was brutal in its intensity, convulsing not only those muscles that cosseted Eli, but those in her toes and her shoulders and all points between. Eli endured his own triumph in absolute silence, though Bonnie could see ferocious spasms of emotion and sensation in his throat and along his jawline.

  The moment Bonnie’s body had sated its greed, she moved to leave Eli, shamed to the very core of her being, but he held her firmly in place, his hands warm and strong on her soft hips. His eyes held her as much a prisoner as did his hands, for there was a quiet power in their depths that caught at something deep within Bonnie and would not let her go.

  “Stay,” he said gruffly. “Please stay.”

  His hands left Bonnie’s hips and came to her bodice, opening it fully, drawing down her camisole. Bonnie shivered with involuntary pleasure as Eli gently caressed her bare breasts.

  “The conductor!” she reminded him desperately in a soft whine.

  “Don’t worry, Bonnie. He wouldn’t come near this car even if it burst into flame.”

  Bonnie thought it might be she that burst into flame, rather than the passenger car; the heat was already rising within her as Eli touched and weighed and toyed with her breasts. Sheathed deep inside her, his manhood flexed itself, exerting a singular power.

  “Lean back, Bonnie. I want to taste you.”

  Bonnie was far beyond reason by then, and far beyond the boundaries of propriety, too. Allowing her head to fall back and her breasts to thrust forward, she crooned as Eli enjoyed one sweet peak and then the other. At times he was greedy, at other times he was incomparably gentle, but at all times he controlled Bonnie’s every reaction.

  He grew more and more fierce within her, filling her, heating her, tormenting her. When her release came, it was so strong that Bonnie’s legs flew out from her sides in order that she might take him as fully inside her as possible.

  Eli was caught in the throes of his own approaching crisis and, as such, he was temporarily powerless. That gave an already fulfilled Bonnie a delicious opportunity to give Eli back a li
ttle of his own.

  She opened his spotless linen shirt one button at a time, tangling her fingers in the dense hair that covered his chest, caressing him, grazing his nipples with the tips of her fingers. He watched her face with glazed golden eyes as she loved him, groaned when she bent and took a nubbin of masculine flesh between her lips.

  Finally Eli’s hips rose in a fierce, powerful thrust and he released his passion at last, his magnificent body shuddering with the force of his satisfaction. His hands moved upon Bonnie’s bare breasts the whole time, molding them, clutching and caressing, and his wonderful amber eyes went blank as his whole being convulsed.

  Too pleased by her victory to feel shame now, Bonnie removed herself, buttoned her bodice, and did what she could with her torn drawers. With luck the ties would hold them together until she could change clothes.

  Eli sat gasping in his seat, apparently unable to move. Still flying high on the wings of her triumph, Bonnie gave him a little pat and then buttoned his trousers for him. She’d done that many times before their divorce, and in places far less conventional than a railroad car, too. Soon after their marriage, in fact, Eli had told Bonnie that he would have her when and where he wanted, and though they’d never been caught, there had often been an element of risk. That daring had always intensified their passion and at least, Bonnie thought with a bittersweet smile, that hadn’t changed.

  Her body lulled to a sweet sense of sleepy languor, Bonnie looked for regret within herself and could find none. She only hoped that Eli would not spoil things by making some cruel remark or, worse yet, trying to pay her again.

  She closed her eyes against that idea and felt Eli’s hand gently cup her chin. He turned her away from the window and toward him.

  “Stay with me in Spokane, Bonnie,” he pleaded hoarsely. “If Hutcheson is going to have you all the rest of his life, let me have you for these few days.”

  Bonnie felt an unbearable sadness at his words and at the defeated emotion behind them. Was it possible that Eli really cared for her, just as Seth had implied in recent days? Could it be that, beneath all that anger, he still loved her just a little?