by Carol Finch
Rachel didn’t object when he scooped her up in his arms, then wheeled around to lock the door. The rakish grin on Nate’s handsome face wiped all thought from her head and she forgot to ask what Dr. Yeager had to say about Doc’s condition.
“There’s nothing I’d like better than to finish what we started on the wagon seat before dawn,” she assured him as she snuggled against his broad chest.
“You read my mind, angel face.”
“Glad to hear that we’re of the same mind, Mr. Marshal.”
“And very soon, of the same body…if you let me have my way with you…” he growled seductively.
Chapter Fourteen
Nate couldn’t control the ardent desperation that sizzled through him as he laid Rachel on the bed, then stretched out beside her. The tormenting feeling that he was going to lose her kept haunting him. It also prompted him to spend every spare minute with her. She had tried to leave him the previous night and again this morning. The feeling of emptiness that had overwhelmed him earlier still nagged at him, and all that held it at bay was losing himself in her completely.
“I swear you’ve become my hopeless addiction,” he whispered against her satiny skin. “I can’t seem to get enough of you.”
She moaned softly as his hands swept over the peaks of her breasts, then down the concave curve of her belly. She strained toward his caresses, leaving him feeling all-powerful in his control over her. But only when it came to the passion that always exploded between them, he reminded himself. The rest of the time Rachel was his unfaltering, independent-minded equal. Yet when she was with him, like this, she responded without restraint, as if she were as hungry and desperate for him as he always was for her.
Lightning crackled through his bloodstream as she moved sensuously against him. When he tugged away her clothing to circle her nipples with his tongue, she whispered his name achingly. When he suckled her and kneaded her soft skin, she gasped and inched toward him again. Her wild, restless movements triggered hot, reckless sensations inside him.
His unruly body demanded instant pleasure, but he refused to be selfish. Other men had tried to make this spirited beauty their conquest, but Rachel was more than that to Nate. He couldn’t be satisfied unless she was aching for him to the same mindless degree that he ached for her.
He spread a path of moist kisses from her breasts to her rib cage. He felt her shiver beneath his lips and fingertips. His hand drifted down her hip, then swirled over her inner thighs. Feeling the wet heat of her desire against his knuckles, his body clenched with barely restrained need. He ached to bury himself inside her, but he denied himself again.
His tongue swept into her mouth at the exact moment that he slid his figure inside the hot, slick channel between her legs. He groaned aloud, wanting her but waiting until she was shimmering helplessly with her need for him. When her body shuddered around his fingertip and she arched toward his hand, he felt his resistance give way. The warm rain of her desire for him was almost more temptation than he could bear.
“Nate…ahh…” she said hoarsely as she tried to pull him above her. “I need you…”
“And I need all of you,” he insisted as he made his way down her shapely body, one caress and kiss at a time.
He dipped his finger inside her again and felt the honey fire of her response burning him, luring him closer.
“Stop—” her voice shattered as she shimmered around his fingertip.
“Not until I’ve had my fill of tasting you.”
When he lowered his head to trace the dewy petals of her feminine body, he felt the last of his restraint crumble. Primal instinct sank in its sharp claws as he suckled her. She cried out his name on ragged spurts of breath and she dug her nails into his shoulders.
“Come here…please…” she whispered achingly.
When she looked at him with such wild need in those dark, hypnotic eyes, he moved on her command. He swore he’d ripped a couple of buttons off his shirt in his haste to shed his clothes so he could sink into her soft flesh.
Nate groaned when she folded her hand around his arousal and guided him to her. When she wrapped her legs around his hips, then pressed ever closer, he plunged into her, thrusting hard and deep—and tried to tell himself to be gentle. Unfortunately, his throbbing body was paying no attention whatsoever to the message sent down by his brain.
Sensual pleasure cascaded over him as Rachel matched the rhythmic strains of his body. Hot, pulsating need pounded through him as passion sent them spiraling through time and space. Brain-scrambling rapture whirled around him as sensations expanded, converged, then exploded upon him. Nate thrust against her and she clung as tightly to him as he did to her. Together they rode on the turbulent winds of ecstasy.
For a few seconds—or a few centuries, Nate wasn’t sure which—he drifted in a fuzzy blur of amazing pleasure. He struggled to draw breath as he collapsed on Rachel and tried to summon the strength and the will to move.
“Are you okay?” he questioned as he nuzzled his chin against the rapid pulsations of her neck.
“Better than okay,” she said with a ragged sigh. “I wanted to leave—”
“I know,” he cut in. “I’m glad you didn’t.”
He felt her smile against his shoulder. “Me, too. For now at least. But if things don’t go—”
“Sh-sh-sh,” he murmured. “Let me use my authority to handle this situation. You saved my life. Let me return the favor. Okay? Just stay out of sight.”
She nodded hesitantly, then asked, “How’s Doc?”
“Dr. Yeager gave him some medication and said the next six to eight hours would tell the tale. He thinks there’s some internal hemorrhaging and maybe a skull fracture.”
“God, I hope my scheme to break him from drinking that fifty-proof elixir doesn’t cost him his life.”
Nate kissed her into silence, then said, “You don’t have to carry the burden of whatever goes wrong in someone else’s life, you know.”
She gazed up at him, tormented. “No? You were injured because of me and so was Doc. I hope Jennifer and Sophie didn’t suffer when Adolph tried to wrest information about me from them.
“I saw him earlier,” she added, and he could feel tension coiling inside her. “He exited this hotel. After visiting his new mistress, no doubt.”
Nate eased down beside her and wrapped her protectively in his arms. “I’ll deal with Turner and I’ll enjoy every minute of it.”
“I want my turn at him,” she said in a vindictive tone. “He changed the course of my life.”
“I mean it, Rachel,” he said intently. “You need to stay out of sight until we sort this out. Promise me that you’ll stay here so I’ll know you’re safe.”
“In this room?” She rolled her eyes at him. “I’ll go crazy.”
He grinned as he leaned over to kiss her, then waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “I can think of a few ways to occupy and distract you.”
“I never imagined myself as a man’s mistress,” she grumbled.
“Think of it in terms of being my future wife,” he suggested.
He felt the need to make love with her again, because the look she gave him made him wonder if she planned to duck out of town when he cleared her name. He didn’t want her planning her next escape attempt, so he distracted her with heated kisses and caresses.
He predicted she would accuse him of manipulating her with sexual pleasure, but the truth was he kept feeling he was going to lose her, and he was desperate to savor the feelings and sensations she summoned from him. Rachel was fast becoming so much a part of his life that he couldn’t recall what his existence had been like without her spicing it up, complicating it and satisfying a longing that only she seemed capable of fulfilling…
That was his last sane thought before she set her hands and lips upon him. The world spun off its axis, flinging him into a dizzying universe brimming with inexpressible pleasure.
It was midafternoon before Rachel woke up to find herself naked and al
one in bed. She shook her head, dismayed by her complete lack of self-control where Nate was concerned. He had walked into her room and pushed her past the point of no return—not once but twice. She had barely regained enough mental capability to remember to ask about Doc’s condition.
The urge to check on Doc was nearly overwhelming. What if he didn’t survive? He’d been so furious with her and he’d fallen off the cliff. No matter how much Nate tried to console her, she knew it was her fault that he was injured and unconscious.
The tormenting thought made her restless and on edge. She made use of the water left in the tub to refresh herself, then dressed. She paced the confines of the room for several minutes, pausing at regular intervals to keep surveillance on the freight office. She stopped breathing momentarily when she saw Adolph’s three ruffians swagger into the office. Damn it, she had hoped the men were still wandering the countryside in search of her. The thought of the goons recognizing Nate and disposing of him before he pointed an accusing finger at them unnerved her. They must have stolen his badge, along with his clothing, so they knew he was a federal marshal.
Rachel blew out an agitated breath. Surely Nate didn’t expect her to hole up in this room indefinitely. She was accustomed to activity. He knew that. And because he did, he shouldn’t expect her to sit here twiddling her thumbs when she wanted to check on Doc and alert Nate that she had seen the three henchmen in town.
“Where are you, Nate?” she muttered. “If you aren’t back here in five minutes, I’m gone.”
Nate strode from the city marshal’s office, then scowled to himself. He’d wanted to file charges against Turner’s goons, but clearly Turner had Marshal Peterson in his pocket. Seth Peterson had rattled off several excuses as to why that wasn’t a good idea. No doubt, the marshal was paid to look the other way when it came to Turner’s underhanded dealings.
According to Rachel, the three men were hired to strong-arm customers into paying their high-interest loans—or else. Nate had seen the tactic used dozens of times. It didn’t take a genius to realize that Turner, like other businessmen in a town that had yet to establish a bank, loaned money and extended credit so he could set high-interest rates.
Nate had a pretty good idea why Edgar Havern and his parter’s investments weren’t paying expected dividends. Adolph Turner was embezzling money and charging high interest that he collected for himself. It was no wonder he’d become wealthy—at his investors’ and his customers’ expense.
After posing questions to several business owners, who didn’t mind discussing their dislike for Turner’s practices, Nate had a good picture of the freight manager’s stranglehold on unsuspecting customers who accepted his loans. Armed with that knowledge, Nate headed for the freight office to pick up the package his brother, Ethan, had sent to him.
Nate was halfway down the street when he heard, “Psttt!” coming from the shadows of the alley. He scowled when he saw Rachel—dressed in her mannish disguise—flagging him down.
“I came to tell you that I saw the henchmen enter Turner’s office,” she reported.
“Didn’t I make it clear to you to wait in the room?” he muttered irritably.
She flicked her wrist dismissively. “You know me better than that.”
“Yes, I do. What was I thinking? I should have handcuffed you to the bedpost.”
She frowned darkly. “Not if you know what’s good for you.”
He smiled roguishly. “I can think of other reasons that staking you out might be interesting.”
An impish grin quirked her Cupid’s-bow lips and a chunk of his heart broke off and rattled down his rib cage. He stared into that beguiling face, which was smudged with soot to conceal her identity, and felt all-too-familiar feelings and sensations channel through every part of his being.
“I can picture you staked out as you were when I first found you,” she replied. “I’m surprised I didn’t think of tying you up and making my escape. It must be because I’ve been distracted by the thought of Turner and his thugs scouring the countryside to have their revenge on me.”
Nate curled his forefinger beneath her chin and lifted her lips to his kiss. “Revenge is the last thing I want from you, angel face. No matter what else happens, don’t forget that.”
When he lifted his head, she wiped away the smudge of soot transferred from her cheek to his during the steamy kiss. “Nate, I—” She compressed her lips for a moment, then added, “I don’t want you hurt on my account so please be careful what you say and do while you’re around Adolph. He is ruthless and far more intelligent than his goons.”
“I will. Now, go back to the room. And one more thing.”
She cast him a withering glance. “What is it this time?”
“Stay in your room. Please.”
He wasn’t sure that adding please appeased her dislike of being ordered around. Although Nate was accustomed to giving orders and enforcing them, spouting commands at Rachel almost never worked.
She pulled a face. “You expect too much of me.”
He gave her “the look” that he’d used on fugitives dozens of times in the past. “Don’t make me use the power and authority of my federal badge on you,” he warned.
As expected, she thrust out her chin rebelliously. “Don’t try it, Montgomery. Not unless you have that badge pinned on your chest and a warrant for my arrest in your pocket.”
As if they were two gunfighters squaring off at twenty paces, they stared each other down. Nate knew he wasn’t going to drag this feisty termagant to jail to keep her out of trouble. If Turner got wind of it, he would use his influence over Marshal Peterson to take the law into his own hands.
However, Nate was seriously considering handcuffs on the bedposts to keep track of Rachel. Of course, he would have to catch her and drag her, cursing, kicking and screaming, to the Four Queens Hotel. That would draw unwanted attention and word would get back to Turner.
“You could use me for bait,” she suggested. “We could draw Adolph and his men out—”
He waved her off in midsentence. “No, absolutely not. I sent a telegram to my brother earlier this week, asking him to send a package of clothes and supplies. I’m on my way to Turner’s office to pick it up right now.”
“You can’t go in there yet,” she insisted. “I want to make sure the goons aren’t around before you go inside.”
The possibility of Rachel being recognized and overtaken made his blood run cold. “I want you to marry me right now,” he blurted.
She blinked, stunned by his abrupt change of topic. “Why right now?”
He wasn’t sure. It just popped out of his mouth. “Think about it, Rachel. Married to a U.S. marshal—”
“I’ve thought about it before and I think it would be detrimental to your position,” she interrupted. “People will think I’m using you for protection and hiding behind your badge.”
“Is that so bad?”
“Yes, I refuse to use manipulation.”
“Even if it ensures that Turner goes down in flames and he takes his henchmen with him?” he countered.
She lifted a perfectly arched black brow. “You mean sort of like you running interference for me while I return the favor by blocking your father’s marriage machinations for you?”
“Yeah, something like that. We can visit the justice of the peace and say, ‘I do,’ in five minutes.” He didn’t know why he was pushing her so hard. Maybe because she kept resisting and he took it as a personal challenge. Maybe because he didn’t want her to find out that he had the kind of financial backing that she considered detestable. Hell, he made Adolph Turner look like a pauper. Nate preferred she didn’t know the truth until she was legally tied to him.
What am I talking about? Nate asked himself suddenly. When had he decided that he did want to be married? He liked his freedom. Yet, the thought of having no emotional connection to Rachel when this case ended disturbed him greatly. She disturbed him. She made him wish for things he had never consid
ered important to his life and his happiness—until now.
“No, absolutely not.” She threw his earlier comment right back in his face. “I’m not what you need, Nate.”
“That should be my decision,” he countered.
She shrugged evasively, pulled her cap low on her forehead, then pivoted on her heels. He cursed her stubbornness as she disappeared into the back alley behind the barbershop.
Nate muttered in exasperation while he waited for Rachel to return with the all-clear signal that the henchmen had left and Turner was alone. She returned a moment later to gesture toward the front of the office.
Anger roiled through him when he saw the three men, who had beaten him and stole his belongings, saunter outside. Too bad he’d taken an oath years ago to follow the law. He easily could be persuaded to make an exception when dealing with these bastards. Turner included.
When Rother, Lamont and Hanes mounted their horses and trotted off, Nate strode down the boardwalk. It was going to take considerable acting ability to confront Turner and pretend he didn’t want to kill him for trying to abuse Rachel.
And damn it to hell, why would she think he would ever take the conniving scoundrel’s word over hers?
Ah, yes, he mused. She believed money talked, and she had little faith and trust in men. The curse of wealth and the misuse of power and influence disgusted her. He wondered what it would take to convince Rachel that all men with money weren’t the scourges of the earth.
Despite Nate’s insistence that she should hide in the hotel, Rachel detoured to the back door of Dr. Yeager’s infirmary. Since the physician wasn’t on hand, Rachel eased down on the edge of Doc’s bed. She glanced sideways, noting that another man—in his late thirties, perhaps—was asleep in the bed near the door that opened into Dr. Yeager’s examination office. She noticed the man had a black eye and several cuts on his head and face. It looked as if he had taken a beating.
Rachel’s attention swung back to Doc and she combed her fingers through the tuft of blond hair poking from the bandage that encircled his head. He was so pale and motionless that it tormented her beyond words.