“What is it you want from this life, Mr. Ochoa?”
Mister? “To go home.”
“Where is this home?”
“In the hills of Texas. With Hell’s Eight.” He didn’t mind her knowing that. He’d be drawing a map for her, so she could go there if anything happened to him. He’d sent a telegram to Tracker, using their special code when he’d been stealing back his gear. Breaking into the telegraph office and sending the telegram had been a risk, but it couldn’t be helped. Fei needed protection. The message would be relayed from telegraph office to telegraph office in a preplanned pattern until one of Hell’s Eight picked it up.
“Why did you leave?”
“A little disagreement between me and the army.”
“You are a deserter?” She sounded shocked.
“Would it matter if I was?”
She turned and looked at him, eyes narrowed. Then shook her head. “You are not a deserter.”
“No, I’m a murderer.”
She threw up a hand. “Why you always wish for me to think bad of you?”
Because it was safer than the alternative. “Do you know your English slips when you’re upset?”
“Do you know you get evasive when you worry I see too much?”
She saw too damn much. “Maybe we should just shut up and ride, then.”
“And do you always get to pretend to be mean when you wish to end a talk?”
“Honey, there’s nothing pretend about my mean.”
She made a noise that sounded like pfft.
“What’d you say?”
“I scoff at your mean.”
She was too far ahead to catch his muttered “Son of a bitch.”
She slowed her horse and let him catch up. “And I ask why you tell me you are a murderer.”
Leaning over, he gave the mare a light slap on the rump. The mare scooted forward. Fei grabbed for the saddle horn and shot him a dirty look.
He smiled back.
Settling into the saddle, she straightened her tunic and informed him, “If you do not ride up here with me, I will be forced to shout.”
The brush was sparse enough that they could ride abreast. “So?”
“Ahead is an area popular with the Indians for stopovers.”
“You travel alone through Indian country?”
“It is necessary.”
He swore again and kneed his horse forward. The slight smile on her lips at the victory irked him further.
“Do you always get your way?”
“I believe in persistence.”
“And I believe you need your butt paddled.”
“You are my husband. I cannot stop you.”
“It would go a lot further to settling my anger if you sounded the least bit scared.”
The smile grew. “You have promised that you would never hurt me. A paddling would hurt.”
“I’d enjoy it.”
She cocked her head to the side and studied him with that way of hers before declaring decisively, “No, you would not.”
There was no way she could know that any more than there was any reason for her to believe his promise. “What makes you so sure?”
“I just know. Just as I know that, if you murdered someone, there was cause.”
“Not enough for the army.”
Pfft. “I have had encounters with this army. Not all who are in charge are men of balance.”
“Interesting way of putting it.”
“I do not know all the words, all the time.”
Neither did he. Especially when someone who had no reason to believe in anything had absolute faith in him. It made him uncomfortable. “I’m not a saint, Fei.”
She pulled her horse to a stop. “No, you are a dragon. And for the moment, mine.”
Mine. The claim settled far too comfortably on his ears.
“Be careful what you claim, little girl.”
“Be careful how you judge,” she retorted. “I have not been a girl for many years.”
Son of a bitch, she challenged him. How he wanted to accept that challenge. “Just how many years?”
“I have seen twenty-three birthdays.”
“So old.”
“How old are you?”
“Coming up on thirty-one.”
She nodded. “I see. Very old.”
“Not that old.” Urging his horse closer, he put an end to the game with a simple maneuver. Her eyes widened, and her breath caught as he hooked his fingers behind her neck. Fear? Interest? Her attention dropped to his mouth as he leaned in. Her tongue came out and smoothed over her lower lip, leaving it moistly inviting.
Shit. Interest. He paused an inch from her mouth. So close her breath blended with his.
“Tell me to go to hell,” he whispered.
“Tell me you desire this.”
What he desired was her. Unreasonably. Wildly. Completely.
His lips touched hers. “Temptress.”
“Dragon,” she whispered into his mouth.
“I’m not a damn lizard.”
She opened her mouth to protest, or explain. He didn’t give a shit which. He just wanted her. And he took her the only way he’d allow himself. With a kiss he wanted to be soft, but came out hard. She gasped as he thrust his tongue into her mouth, struggled a second as he tasted her sweetness, and then, sighing softly, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. Christ, she didn’t know how to kiss.
Then her tongue moved shyly against his and he found he didn’t care about that, either, because no one had ever given him more pleasure than this woman, in this moment. Weaving his fingers into the thick bun at the base of her neck, he allowed himself the illusion that this wasn’t impossible, that the women he held could love him. He pretended this was actually their wedding night and she was really his wife and this was the beginning. He pretended there was a future.
“Like this,” he whispered, showing her how to use her lips and tongue to give pleasure, starting out lightly and gradually building the passion, taking her with him before letting her take over. And she did, with an enthusiasm that was all the more exciting for the lack of artifice. The woman enjoyed kissing him. Too much.
“Fei.”
She laughed deep in her throat when he would have pulled away, and caught his lower lip between her teeth. His cock surged. His control slipped.
“You like that, yes?”
“Too damn much.” Shit. He needed to slow down. She was, in all likelihood, a virgin. He didn’t mess with virgins.
She’s my wife.
She is the woman who saved your life, he corrected his baser nature. He owed her better than an animalistic rutting on the back of a horse. Easing away, he nibbled at her lower lip, kissed her cheek, the corner of her mouth, before stroking his thumb across her passion-swollen mouth. “Fei.”
She lifted her lids. Dreamy-eyed, she stared at him, lips soft, expression full of wonder. An image that would haunt his dreams for years to come. Innocence, passion and trust, all bundled together in his deepest desire.
“What do we do now?”
He wanted to rip the silk from her body and take her breast in his hand, then his mouth. He wanted to hear her gasp with the pleasure, feel her shock as he taught her how good a man could make her feel. He wanted to be her first, last, only. The need to possess shocked him, adding a bit of stability to his rocky control. Pressing lightly, he pulled her lower lip down that smallest bit, tempting himself with the moist heat beyond. She sighed and shifted in the saddle. The woman was going to be hell on fire in bed.
With someone else.
Understanding that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy what he had a little longer. Pressure from his knee urged Night closer to temptation. He’d always been a man to take advantage of the moment. No sense changing now.
With a growl of frustration, he laid out the truth. “I’m going to kiss you again, and then we’re going to get your goddamn gold.”
CHAPTER FOUR
&nb
sp; “IS THIS IT?” Shadow asked as they arrived at the edge of a stream that curved around the foot of a steep embankment at the foot of a small mountain. Fei shook her head and dismounted, stretching her back as the mare whickered and jerked her head toward the water. Stumbling, Fei went a step with her as the mare lowered her head to the stream. Fei couldn’t blame her. She could use a drink, too. From the humidity in the air, the day was going to be a scorcher.
Shadow’s horse echoed the nicker. She glanced over. Shadow was watching her, but this time there was nothing dispassionate about his expression. He was watching her the way a man watched a woman he desired. Something feminine and vulnerable inside unfurled with the knowledge. Smiling, she widened her stance and stretched again, arching her back a little more than necessary, letting the sun’s early heat flow over her along with his gaze.
“You’re playing with fire, Fei.”
She was, and it felt good. “Maybe I have been cold too long.”
“Maybe, or maybe you’re—”
Reaching back, she undid the bun at the back of her neck and shook out her hair, wanting to moan with relief as the heavy weight spilled down her back. Shadow froze midway off the horse, his eyes locked on her. She didn’t care. She was hot, she was exhausted and he was too complacent about everything that had happened between them for her peace of mind.
Lifting her hair off her neck, she demanded, “Maybe I’m what?”
“Going to get burned.” The warning rumbled from deep in his chest. Without further ado, he got the rest of the way down and calmly led his horse over to the stream.
She hated him right then. For his calm, his proximity, but mostly for shaking up the beliefs she’d built around herself. It’d been six hours since Shadow had kissed her. Six hours in which she should have forgotten the sensation of his mouth on hers, but the imprint of his kiss was as vivid now as it had been when he’d first touched his lips to hers last night. She touched her lips without thinking. His hand caught her wrist. His gaze met hers. In their depths was all the heat she could have wished and more danger than any woman should desire. The step she took toward him was involuntary. His response was not. With a shake of his head, he killed off that kernel of hope she couldn’t control. The one that looked at impossible and thought, Maybe.
“Don’t even think about it.”
“I’m not.”
It was a lie. He knew it was a lie. She could see it in his expression. Narrowing her eyes against the midmorning sun, she dared him to challenge her on it. He cocked his eyebrow at her, but he had the common sense to keep his mouth shut, which was good. Pretending to misunderstand his look, she motioned to the rocky embankment. “We need to go up.”
And that was another part of her problem. Her legs were stiff from riding the horse and the steep climb, which she normally did with little difficulty, felt insurmountable after two nights without sleep. Taking a bracing breath, she took the first step. He took her arm.
“What?”
“I thought you might like a little help.”
“Xei-xei.” Tugging on the mare’s reins, she started up the hill. At least this part was easier than when she rode her old plow horse, Grandfather. He had a hard time with the climb. More often than not, the process involved her hauling him up by his bridle and sheer force of will. The little mare, however, nimbly climbed the slope. Sometimes a bit too fast. Fei jumped to the side as the mare lunged up some loose shale.
Shadow switched his grip to her waist. “Careful there.”
She shoved at his arm, noting he didn’t need to hold his horse’s reins. His horse followed meekly on his own. Of course. That just irritated her more.
“Let go.”
“Just watching out for my finances.”
She shook her head. “You are a liar. You were watching out for me.”
“And that’s a crime?”
She didn’t know. Yes. No. Maybe. It’d be easier to decide if she weren’t so aware of him. “Just tell the truth of what you do.”
“The truth isn’t always pretty.”
“Neither is a lie.”
“Fair enough.” Steering her up the embankment, he said, “We need to get you up to this claim so I can get on our back trail and erase it.”
He released her arm. She turned. Standing above him on the embankment, they were almost eye level. It was surprising how much more confidence the illusion of height gave. “You can do that?”
“Probably not good enough that a professional tracker wouldn’t be able to find us, but likely good enough that the sheriff and his cronies will be fooled. Or, at the very least, slowed down enough that you can get that gold you want.”
He had the thickest lashes for a man, and the most beautiful eyes. So deep and dark, but oh, so haunted. Her dragon had demons. How bad did a dragon have to be scarred inside for demons to take root? “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She couldn’t help but watch his mouth as he formed the words. That was beautiful, too. Wide and full, but completely masculine. It spoke of a man of confidence. Of power. Of passions. Not a horse thief. The taste of him lingered in her mouth, in her senses. Tearing her gaze away, she glanced upward, to the heavens.
When I prayed to you, my American ancestors, I did not pray for a husband.
No answer came from the heavens. No answer came from her head, and the one from her heart she couldn’t hear. She may not have wanted a husband, but she had one now. Not the figurehead she’d envisioned, but a man of heart. She didn’t know what to do about that. He wasn’t what she’d expected. Not at all. Clucking to the mare, she started up the hill. He fell into step beside her. She studied him from the corner of her eye, watching his long legs eat up the ground, one step for her two. The muscles bunched and contracted under his clothes. She remembered how they’d felt beneath her palm during that kiss. Hard and powerful. She remembered how she’d dug in her nails but there’d been no give. She remembered how she’d needed to get closer, but when she had, closer hadn’t been close enough. And there was the danger of this man. He made her want.
She shook her head. She couldn’t afford this distraction right now. They’d had their kiss, their taste, and it had been wild. But wild wasn’t who she was, and she owed him yet again because he’d seen that and been strong enough for both of them. Taking his hand in hers, feeling very daring as he cocked an eyebrow at her, she gave it a squeeze. It was not something a Chinese woman would do, but it was something she’d seen many American women do. At least with family. And right now, Shadow was the closest thing to family she had.
“What was that for?”
“A thank-you for your strength.”
Lifting her hand, he helped her over a rough spot. “We’re not talking about my muscles, are we?”
She shook her head. “No. As nice as they are, I am not. It is not that I do not see the passion between us. And it is not that I wish to insult you, but if we were to make this marriage real, there is the risk of a child.”
“Understood.”
“I cannot have a child with you.”
“I said I understood.”
“So what happened before…”
“The kiss?”
She couldn’t help her blush. “Yes. That cannot happen again.”
He turned her, forcing her, with a finger under her chin, to look up. Her knees went weak immediately.
“Even though it felt good?”
“I have already confessed to the passion between us.”
“I find I like hearing that you enjoyed it.”
His eyes had the slightest crinkle at the corner. He could be joking with her. Or he could be serious. “I cannot indulge you in this.”
“In what?”
“In this passion. I would get pregnant for certain.”
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