by Connie Mason
“You already have.”
“Kiss me, Casey.”
“I don’t think that’s wise.”
“The doctor gave his blessing. My leg is stronger and our baby is thriving. I need you, Casey. Make love to me.”
Casey shot to his feet. “It’s too soon.”
She reached for him, urging him back to her. “I need you.”
“Are you sure? Perhaps we should wait.”
“Do you want to wait?”
“Good God, no! I want you so desperately I’m shaking.” He held out his hands. “Look how I’m trembling.”
She grasped his hands and brought them to her breasts. “Touch me, Casey.”
She murmured incoherently as his hands cupped her breasts through her chemise. Delicious spirals of delight coursed through her. She gave a low moan deep in her throat as he lowered her onto the bed.
His fingers were sure and gentle, his eyes full of loving promise as he brushed kisses across her eyelids, her cheeks, the sensitive hollow of her throat. His mouth was warm and sensuous, the movement of his fingertips upon her flesh pure fire.
Sweet, sweet torture. Belle’s blood sang through her veins; her heart beat so rapidly she feared it would burst through her chest. Reaching up between them she tugged at his shirt, telling him without words what she wanted. She wanted to feel the warmth of Casey’s firm flesh against hers. She wanted them both naked.
Casey raised slightly and tore off his shirt, ripping off buttons in his haste. Then he removed Belle’s shift and tossed it aside. Without rising he removed his shoes and stockings and kicked off his pants. Now as naked as she, he smiled down at her. She was so lovely. So warm and giving. He inhaled the sweet scent of her hair, letting the satiny strands trail through his fingers.
Belle ran her hands over the firm flesh of his shoulders and chest, admiring the glowing sheen of his skin, the breadth of his shoulders, the hardness of his bronzed flesh. The harsh intake of his breath as she pulled him down to her told her without words that her touch affected him as profoundly as his did her.
“I love you,” Casey whispered as he lowered his head and licked the crest of one impudent breast. His mouth closed over the hard nipple even as his hand tormented its twin.
Her body was so hot, so soft, so willing. He loved the way she arced and writhed beneath the expert torment of his lips and hands. He felt his own body swelling, growing, felt the massive ridge of hard muscle between his legs clamoring for satisfaction.
“Touch me, love,” he whispered against her mouth.
She obeyed instantly, curling her hand over the huge ridge of his warm manhood. His hand flew to hers, holding her palm tightly against his erection. He moved her hand slowly up and down until she learned the rhythm. Suddenly she stopped and gave him an impudent grin. Then she lowered her head and opened her lips to him.
Sweat beaded on his temples. “God,” he gasped, flinging his head back as splendor splintered through him. When he could take no more, he gently pushed her away. “Enough. I want to adore you, every wonderful, dewy inch of you.” Then he knelt between her legs and lowered his head.
His mouth was hot and moist against her intimate flesh, his tongue a fiery sword, thrusting and arousing. Belle felt something darkly primitive, utterly consuming rushing through her and cried out Casey’s name.
Casey rose up above her, his expression raw and intense as he watched her face in the throes of ecstasy. Her climax triggered his own grinding need. He growled with pleasure as he joined his body to hers in a long, smooth plunge, seating himself deep within her. He thrust and withdrew, again and again, always mindful of her condition, curbing his wildness without sacrificing their pleasure.
Belle felt the tension inside her building as she rose to meet Casey’s thrusts. Desire grew hotter, brighter with each successive thrust, until they found themselves consumed in an inferno of blazing ecstasy. Their cries rose in harmonious accord, wrapping them in joyous splendor, fading away to perfect contentment.
“How do you feel?” Casey asked worriedly when he regained his breath.
“Wonderful,” Belle murmured on a sigh. “You’re wonderful.”
“Never lose that thought, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have lost control like that. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“You could never hurt me. You’re a gentle man. You’re going to make a wonderful father. Tommy already adores you.”
Casey fell silent. After a moment of introspection he said, “Belle, about Tom. I know I will never take his place in your heart. I understand how you felt about him and I respect your memories of him. I want to make a place all my own in your heart. I know you’ll never love me like you did Tom and I’ll try to contain my jealousy.”
Belle was astounded. How could Casey believe she didn’t love him as much as she had loved Tom? Undeniably she had loved Tom dearly. He had been kind and gentle and comfortable. But with Tom she had felt none of the wildness, none of the madness of loving a man like Casey. Loving Casey was like being caught up in a hurricane. The turbulent, gut-wrenching journey into the center was a dangerous prelude to the rewarding calm that followed. Loving Tom had been like sailing a peaceful sea ruffled by balmy breezes. She’d felt pleasure but none of the tumultuous upheaval of Casey’s frenzied loving.
“You’ve no cause to be jealous,” Belle whispered. “Never think I’m comparing you to Tom. There is no comparison, Casey. Tom was Tom, and I’ll always love him for his good qualities. But you are my destiny. Sometimes the tumultuous emotions you wrest from me are frightening. I’ll never love anyone like I love you.”
Belle’s words thrilled Casey. Not for the first time he thanked God for sending him to McAllister. Without McAllister he would never have found a love to cherish.
Chapter 20
Belle awoke the following morning feeling as if everything was right in her world. Her baby was thriving and Casey loved her. She was no longer alone. She had Casey, Tommy, and her friends around her. For the first time since Tom’s death she felt as if she had a complete family again. Belle glanced at Casey, saw he was still sleeping, and snuggled close to him. Even in sleep he must have felt her warmth, for he pulled her into the curve of his body and sighed contentedly.
Murmuring happily, Belle closed her eyes and dozed off again. Scant moments had passed, or so it seemed to Belle, when a loud pounding awakened her.
Casey reacted to the disturbance instantly, trained by his years of living dangerously. He was out of bed before Belle stirred herself to move.
“What is it?” Belle asked, wide awake now.
“I don’t know,” Casey said, pulling on his pants. “Who is it?” he called through the panel.
“It’s Mark. I’m sorry to awaken you but the sheriff is here. Something happened that you should know about.”
“Be with you in a minute,” Casey replied as he searched in his wardrobe for a shirt with all its buttons attached. He smiled at the memory of his buttons rolling on the floor in his eagerness to remove his shirt last night.
“What could the sheriff possibly want?” Belle asked as she watched Casey pull on his stockings and boots.
“I’ll find out soon enough. Wait here, I’ll return as soon as I know anything.”
“I’m coming with you,” Belle insisted.
“Very well. Come downstairs when you’re dressed. I don’t want to keep Rogan waiting.”
A few minutes later Mark and Casey descended the staircase together to join the sheriff. “What’s happened?” Casey asked Mark.
“It’s Jones. I’ll let Rogan tell you.”
Casey’s face was grim when he entered the study where Sheriff Rogan waited. “What’s wrong, Sheriff?”
“Jones escaped last night,” Rogan said, his face nearly as grim as Casey’s. “We’re forming a posse. Will you join us?”
Casey cursed fluently. “How in the hell did you let him get away?”
“My deputy was on duty last night. I took the night off. I’m not requir
ed to work night and day, you know,” he said defensively. “Deputy Jenkins brought in a drunk late last night. Jones appeared to be sleeping when Jenkins passed his cell. On his way back from locking up the drunk, he paused at Jones’s cell to check on him. The bastard grabbed Jenkins through the bars and choked him until he blacked out. Jones stole the keys from Jenkins and escaped from his cell. He locked the deputy inside before he took off.”
A muscle in Casey’s jaw twitched. “When did you find out?”
“This morning when I went to relieve my deputy. I put the word out that I was forming a posse. Jones stole a horse from the livery and is armed. I’d guess he’s headed for the border.”
“Damn! Give me half an hour. I’ll meet you at the jailhouse.”
“Where are you going?” They turned in unison as Belle walked into the room. “What happened?”
“Hank Jones escaped last night,” Casey said. “I’m joining the sheriff’s posse. He thinks Jones is headed for Mexico.”
“Count me in,” Mark said. “I want the bastard to pay for what he did to Greta.”
The sheriff nodded. “Bring food and gear for a week. We should catch up to him by then. I’m leaving my deputy in charge here.”
The sheriff left a few minutes later. Mark hurried off to gather their gear, leaving Casey and Belle alone.
“Do you have to go?” Belle asked worriedly. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
“I don’t really think Jones left town,” Casey confided. “I want to give the appearance of leaving in case Jones is watching, but as soon as it’s feasible I’ll double back to wait and see if my hunch is right. I don’t want to leave you alone, even for a minute, but I want the bastard caught and punished for what he did to you.”
“Are you sure he didn’t leave town?”
“No, but the sheriff thinks he did.”
Twenty minutes later, Casey was ready to leave. He smiled tenderly at Belle and pulled her into his arms. She strained against him, raising her lips for his kiss. He obliged eagerly, outlining her lips with his tongue before sealing them in a kiss that stole her breath and left her wanting more. But there was no time for a longer farewell. He kissed her one last time, hard, his grip nearly painful, as if he was loathe to part with her.
“I won’t leave you alone long,” he whispered against her lips. “I’ll be nearby.” Then he was gone.
As the day progressed, Belle couldn’t dispel the alarming premonition that something was amiss. Before Belle returned to her room later that morning to rest—she still wasn’t fully recovered from her ordeal—Greta approached to ask if she could take Tommy to the park.
“Only if you take Wan Yo and Harry with you,” Belle contended. “Make sure they’re armed. The sheriff seemed convinced that Jones was headed for the border, but one can’t be too careful.”
“Would you like to come with us?” Greta invited. “I’m going to pack a lunch and make a day of it It’s so pleasant out but for a few wispy clouds, and if it rains it won’t be till later.”
“I’m not up to a picnic yet,” Belle contended. “You go and have a good time. I think I’ll just take a nap while you’re gone.”
“Perhaps Harry or Wan Yo should remain here with you.”
“No, I’ll be fine,” she said, aware that Casey would return soon. “Tommy needs a diversion. I’ll see you at dinner tonight.”
Belle stood in the doorway waving to the happy group as they walked off down the street. The day was exceptionally fine and Tommy was in high spirits. An outing would do him good. Belle turned back into the house. She knew Casey wouldn’t let anything happen to her but something struck a disturbing chord in her. It was more than a premonition, it was like a strong warning that something was going to happen.
“Mrs. Walker, might I speak with you a moment?”
Startled, Belle spun on her heel, relieved that it was only one of the maids. “Oh, Betsy, you frightened me. What can I do for you?”
“I’d like the day off if it doesn’t cause a problem. My mother took sick yesterday, and there is no one to take care of the little ones. My older sister promised to tend her but she won’t arrive until tomorrow.”
“I think we can do without you for one day. Run along. Minnie can see to your chores.”
“No, ma’am, she can’t. That’s the problem. This is Minnie’s day off, she won’t be back until morning. There’s just cook, and he went to the market this morning.”
“I think we can fend for ourselves for one day. Go help your mother, she’s the one who needs you.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Betsy said, bobbing her head. “I’ll be back bright and early tomorrow morning.”
The house was quiet, too quiet, Belle thought as she walked through the deserted rooms. Being alone in the big, rambling mansion made her nervous. She couldn’t ever recall feeling so out of sorts before over nothing.
The thump, thump of the brass door knocker jolted Belle from her reverie. Caution made her peek out the side window before answering the summons. When she saw Naomi standing on the threshold, she flung open the door with a glad cry.
“If I’d known I’d get this kind of welcome I’d have come sooner,” Naomi joshed as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. “I heard about the posse. Just wanted to stop by and see if you’re all right.”
Naomi had been a frequent visitor during Belle’s recuperation and Belle was grateful for her caring. “I’m fine. Come inside and have some tea. We’ll have to go to the kitchen and fix it ourselves, since I’m the only one in the house right now.”
“You’re alone? What was Casey thinking to leave you alone? Where are Greta and Wan Yo? Where’s Harry? Are there no servants in attendance?”
Belle laughed. “Greta and Wan Yo took Tommy on a picnic. Harry went with them. The servants are … occupied elsewhere. And Casey won’t be gone long.”
“No tea, honey, I can’t stay long. I have several errands to run before the customers start arriving for their usual pleasures. The girls are all silly, can’t trust any of them to run things in my absence. I just wanted to make sure you’re all right. And I thought I’d check on Harry.” She fluffed her hair and gave Belle a wink. “He’s a feisty old codger. Once he fattens up a mite, he won’t be half bad to look at.”
Belle grinned. “Why Naomi, are you sweet on Harry?”
Naomi laughed off Belle’s inquiry. “You know me. Are you sure you’ll be all right? How is the baby?”
“We’re both fine, stop worrying. I was preparing to take a nap when you arrived. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
Naomi gave her a knowing grin. “That randy husband of yours keep you up all night, did he? Don’t let that one get away, honey. You sure are crazy about that man, aren’t you?”
Belle blushed clear down to her toes. Was she so transparent? “You know me well, don’t you, Naomi?”
“I should. You’ve been my joy all these years.” She wiped away a tear. “I’ll leave you to your nap, honey. Send someone around if you need me. And tell Harry to come and see me.” She kissed Belle on the cheek and sailed out the door.
Belle smiled after her with true fondness. She couldn’t have picked a better mother had she chosen Naomi herself. The tenderhearted madam had given her the best life she could, given the circumstances of their environment. Much better than the life her own father had provided for her.
Before she went upstairs for her nap, Belle made certain the front door was locked. Then she recalled that the cook had left by the back door to do the marketing, and decided to lock that door too. The instant she entered the kitchen she knew a moment of fear. Something dark and foreboding filled the room. She shivered, trying to shake off the feeling. But it remained, potent and frightening. Hurrying to the door, she turned the key in the lock, then rested her forehead against the panel, her breath coming in short, jerky puffs of air.
What was wrong with her? she wondered. Was the baby making her fanciful? She was locked in the house
, nothing could hurt her. Casey promised he wouldn’t leave her alone long. Feeling better, she walked on shaking legs through the kitchen.
“Hello, bitch.”
Belle screamed. The sound was cut off abruptly when clawing fear closed her throat. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Hank Jones was standing near the pantry, where he’d obviously been hiding. His leering countenance was a frightening reminder of the terror he had put her through.
“You’re supposed to be on your way to Mexico,” Belle managed to gasp out.
“That’s what I wanted everyone to think. I doubled back. I hid behind some rocks when the posse passed on their way out of town. I had unfinished business right here in San Francisco. I need money. Lots of it. And you’ve got it.”
“I’m not alone,” Belle lied, drawing upon an inner courage she didn’t know she possessed.
Jones gave a bark of laughter. “I ain’t stupid. I been watching the house. They all left, even the cook. You’re alone, lady, and I want money.”
“H—how much?”
“Ten thousand dollars.”
Belle blanched. “We don’t keep that kind of money in the house. I’ll need to go to the bank.”
“Fat chance. I don’t trust you out of my sight. I know there’s a safe in the house. I saw it once when I came to the house to try to wheedle money out of McAllister. I figured he owed it to my father.”
“I don’t know the combination.”
“Then you damn well better find it if you know what’s good for you,” Jones said, grasping her shoulders and shoving her into the hallway. “Move, bitch.”
Belle stumbled toward the study on wooden legs. She couldn’t conceive of Casey keeping that much money in the house. Although she knew the combination of the safe, she had never found the need to use it.
As Belle moved in front of Jones, he eyed her slim figure speculatively. “Are you really breeding?”
“Yes,” Belle answered tersely. She wondered if he held any special feelings for motherhood. He didn’t.
“You don’t look it.” He gave her a lewd grin. “I never done it with a pregnant woman.”