Sahara Splendor

by Charlotte Hubbard

  Madigan eyed her, his concern growing. While her girlish coyness made her all the more attractive to him, it would never do for Spade to suspect she found sex frightening or repulsive. He sighed and let the reins rest against the wagon front, knowing his thoughts were leading him into deep trouble if they backfired. And he almost hoped they would.

  “So you’ve never been with a man?” he asked softly. “Your brother talked like—”

  Her shocked glare was answer enough. Dan gazed at her honey-colored skin and her strawberry hair with its shimmering auburn highlights, and knew at that moment he had to have her. Her flowered bodice rose and fell with her discomfort; breasts he hadn’t noticed before were now soft, enticing curves that would fit so perfectly into his hand—

  He caught himself before he cupped her, letting his fingers close around her arm instead. “I realize this is difficult to discuss, and that there are some things even Zerelda couldn’t teach you,” he said in a low voice, “but if Spade thinks you don’t know what to do, he’ll—well, it’s just better if you’re prepared.”

  Sahara realized what he was doing, and the thought that she should stop him evaporated in the heat of his dark-eyed, devilish gaze. How would it feel to kiss him? Would he nibble her with those perfect teeth, or close his mouth? Her innocence was frightening! She didn’t know how to kiss—couldn’t tell him about the carpetbag crammed with black leather and weapons—couldn’t breathe, much less protest the way he was scooting closer to her, his eyes riveting hers. “Mr. Madigan, please— I—”

  “Call me by name, Sahara,” he murmured. “This is for your own good, or I wouldn’t presume to—”

  Sahara blinked and backed away slightly. “You expect me to believe you’ll get nothing out of this? I may be naive, but I’m not stupid.”

  Chuckling, Dan slipped his arm around her. “Kiss me,” he coaxed. “I’ll show you the little tricks Spade’ll want—”

  “You’ve kissed Spade, so you know?”

  Madigan’s gape made her laugh, which shattered the delicate mood he’d been weaving around them. He stiffened and picked up the reins. “You’ll be sorry. Spade won’t tolerate such impertinence, and it hasn’t endeared you to me, either. I was only trying to help.”

  Sahara choked on another giggle. It served him right to stew in his juices for acting as though she weren’t smart enough to see through him. But she’d wanted him to kiss her—just once!—so that she could remember the pleasure when Spade claimed her. The old toad probably slobbered and reeked of sweat, while Dan at least used a cologne that reminded her of…what great forests of cedar and spruce, bathed in sunshine, must smell like. He was angry now. He probably wouldn’t care if Spade became as nasty and heavy-handed as Zerelda said he was.

  Sahara’s poignant sigh made Madigan smug. It served her right to enter into this marriage blind and defenseless! How dare she insinuate that he and Spade—why, the little ingrate had insulted him as though she knew the sort of punishment Horatio would dish up if he suspected hanky-panky between his wife and his…

  Madigan sneaked a glance at her. How much did she know about Spade’s habits? Perhaps she’d sidetracked him for his own good, and the idea that she’d done it by teasing him rather than acting scared or uppity intrigued him. Anybody bold enough to spook him with a broken gun could take care of herself, and would think things through instead of following bodily impulses into a trap.

  Dan shifted, making the leather seat creak. The noon sun was intense for early summer, or was he more fired up about Miss Caldwell than he wanted to be? She was absolutely right to refuse him: her mussed hair and nerves would immediately clue Spade to their activities during the long trip, and he, as the man with the striped back, should know better than to allow such a dalliance to occur. Instead of looking at the flowered dress that fluttered lightly over his pant leg, and thinking of the shapely thigh beneath it, he’d fix his eyes on the road and the horses’ rumps, and keep telling himself that the enticing young woman beside him was poison in petticoats. The devil in a dress.

  “Dan, I…Dan, I really did want you to kiss me.”

  He dropped the reins and slipped his arms around her, a victim of Sahara’s compelling confession. Her eyes resembled jade plates, and her lips were trembling, parted to reveal a mouth he longed to explore. “Why do I suspect you’ll bring me nothing but trouble?” he breathed.

  She swallowed, helpless beneath his coffee-colored gaze. “I—I know about Spade’s whip, and I—I understand now why you can’t let me escape.”

  “Damn right I can’t,” he rasped, and then he caught her up, consumed by her sweet loveliness. Her lips melted beneath his while her soft moans spurred him into a frenzy the narrow seat wouldn’t easily accommodate. She was sliding lower, clinging desperately—

  “Please slow down,” she pleaded in a tiny voice. “I’ve just got you this once, and I want it to be the kiss of a lifetime.”

  Dan blinked. In his haste, he’d forgotten how new these sensations were to her, how special the first taste of loving was to a woman. He smiled, stroking her cheek. “It’ll be the best kiss of my lifetime, too, Sahara. Shall we start again?”

  She straightened, newly aware of the strong arm resting along the seat back, and of the bracing scent of cedar and male heat, and of dark brown eyes that tempted her like pools of warm chocolate. The horses plodded along, kicking up little tufts of dust, oblivious to the fact that no one was holding their reins. “They really do act like there’s only one place to go, depending on which direction you’ve pointed them,” she said with a nervous giggle.

  “You’re stalling.”

  Sahara cast him a sideways glance, drinking in his smile and his sun-streaked hair, which fluttered in the breeze. “Where’s your hat?”

  “I didn’t want it to get in the way, should you ever get around to kissing me.”

  A giggle started deep down inside her, a new giddiness born of the way Dan looked at her as though she were every bit as pretty as the other women he’d known. It was heady, this power she had to make him surge ahead or keep him waiting, yet she knew better than to abuse it. She slowly ran her hand up the front of his shirt and then wove her fingers through the soft hair in the vee of his open collar. “I’m ready,” she whispered.

  He’d never forget the dreaminess in her eyes as she closed them and then lifted her lips to him. So trusting, so like a tender flower she was, that Madigan knew he should turn the wagon around and disappear with her before Spade spoiled all that was decent and beautiful about Sahara Caldwell. Dan pulled her close and kissed her very, very softly.

  She opened her mouth, inviting him to partake more fully, filled with the strange new excitement Madigan inspired. He was more insistent now, his hand supporting her head as his tongue teased at hers. With a sigh, she succumbed to his subtle, thorough mouth and wondered how long she could endure this exquisite torment before she drifted up to heaven.

  Madigan figured they had another couple hours before any hands who might be riding fence would spot them. He knew better than to stop and make love to her, but what could it hurt to show her all the nuances, all the erotic little secrets lying dormant within her ripe, willing body? Sahara deserved her pleasure, and Spade cared only about his own coarse cravings. It was the least he could do for her, and it would satisfy his own curiosities as well.

  When his caresses began, Sahara held her breath. One hand was teasing up and down her spine while the other had lovingly found her breast, and since his mouth still held hers captive, she couldn’t protest—not that she wanted to. By most standards she was rather small, yet Dan’s hand molded her with a tenderness that made her seem to swell within his grasp. The wagon was still moving, and the prairie was passing beneath them; but the sensations smoldering within her wiped away all thought about the rest of the world. There was only Dan, his reverent mouth and roving, skillful hands, and her eager thirst begging to be quenched, perhaps for the only time in her life.

  She didn’t
resist as he slowly raised her voluminous skirts. Dan took his time, savoring the whisper of the silken undergarments and Sahara’s soft sighs. She learned quickly, and as she explored his sensitive inner lips with her tongue, it was all he could do to pace his pleasure. No doubt he’d be up all night, recalling her body’s responses and aching to relive them, but he kept his mission in mind. When his palm brushed the warm skin above her knee, she sucked in her breath.

  He paused. “Have you had enough?”

  “No. Not nearly.”

  It was a throaty command, and Madigan pressed into her lips again. Her heart was beating wildly against him, her breathing desperate between kisses now as she came to life in his arms. His fingers skimmed her thigh lightly beneath her pantaloons, and even though she parted her legs for him, the silk bunched up at an inopportune place. He didn’t dare tear underthings Spade would see, so he thrust his tongue into her mouth while trying to decide how best to continue his caress.

  In her mind, she watched Dan Madigan moving naked against the woman in the bedroom, but instead of Camille’s face it was her own she saw. He was coaxing her back onto the bed, spreading her legs—

  With a whimper of frustration she reached beneath her petticoats, skimmed over Dan’s hand, and yanked the delicate ribbon at her waistband. It gave with a soft snap. Then she was grabbing his hand, placing it where she so desperately needed his attention. Flattening herself against the seat gave him full access to the fire he’d ignited.

  When his fingers found her slick skin, Sahara gasped and buried her head against his shoulder. Her writhing drove him to a desperation like he’d never known, yet he continued with as much control as he possessed, fondling her with a well-placed finger while kissing her deeply. Suddenly she grabbed him and exhaled again and again with an ecstasy that shocked them both.

  “Sahara,” he breathed. “Lord, woman, I wish I could show you how that should really feel! I—I may have to shoot that bastard, but by God Spade’s not going to take you away from me! I’ll find a way—”

  Dan’s voice rang in her ears, at a distance, it seemed, because her pulse was thundering louder than the herd of mustangs that seemed to be stampeding her entire body. He was going to save her after all! Was promising that Horatio Spade wouldn’t touch her—

  “A heart-warmin’ story, Madigan, and I’m sure Spade’ll be real glad ta hear about it.”

  She froze in Dan’s embrace, her skirts still bunched at her waist. The insolent voice came from behind her, but there was no mistaking whom it belonged to.

  “Chrissakes, Caldwell! How long’ve you been here, you filthy—”

  “Since about the time ya stuck your hand up my sister’s skirt, sucker. Told ya she was a hot one,” Bobby jeered, “and the way I see it, ya may as well pack up soon as ya hit the ranch, ‘cause it’s all over now. We figgered ya’d try somethin’ like this, Madigan.” Caldwell kicked his horse into a gallop, his laugh trailing back with his dust to taunt them.

  Sahara felt the blood draining from her face as she gazed at the man who still held her. He, too, looked pale—as confused as she was about how her brother had sneaked up on them at such an incriminating moment. But there was no turning back, not with Horatio Spade anticipating their arrival. The express baron would have every hand on the ranch armed and on their trail if they didn’t show up when Bobby told him they should get there. “Ho-ly shit,” she wheezed.

  Madigan, who sensed the end might be near in more ways than one, managed a weak smile. “You’ve got that right, honey.”

  Chapter 6

  When they arrived at the house, Jennifer informed them that her father wished to see Sahara in his study before dinner, alone. Madigan went to his quarters to splash the dust from his face and change his shirt, his apprehension rising. Instead of greeting them, Spade had remained sequestered, mulling over the damning details Bobby Caldwell had reported to him. Private conferences held before meals, when Horatio was peevish, boded only ill. Once again Dan felt he was sending poor Sahara to an early grave. And once again he racked his brain for a way to rescue her from his cruel, perverted boss.

  He hurried back to the house and waited in the entry hall, hoping he wasn’t too late. His own selfish curiosity had put Miss Caldwell in this compromising position, and she had every reason to hate him for allowing his seduction attempts and these ludicrous wedding plans to progress so far. Sahara, spunky though she was, trusted far too quickly—was trusting him to deliver her from this treacherous situation—and even though he had no interest in her beyond a few stolen caresses, she deserved his best efforts.

  A rustling at the top of the stairs made him turn. There she was, arrayed in a mint green gown that fluttered like a butterfly with each dainty step she took toward him. Head held high, her jade eyes never left his as she descended like a fairy queen. So lithe and lovely, so poised despite the heart that must be hammering beneath her temptingly displayed cleavage.

  Was that his own heartbeat, or were Spade’s horses stampeding out of the corrals? Madigan met her at the foot of the stairs, awestruck. “Sahara,” he breathed.

  Coming from this handsome, dark-eyed man, her name sounded like a promise whispered in the evening breeze. He was gripping her hands, standing so close that his warm breath teased the ruffle hugging her bust-line as he gazed up at her. “Yes?” she replied.

  Madigan caught himself before he uttered phrases his heart couldn’t possibly mean yet, words that would only damn him further when she became another man’s wife. If only that braggart Caldwell hadn’t bet—if only Spade hadn’t seen her half-naked, pointing that pistol—

  “Sahara, I’ll get you out of this, I swear it. I should never have—”

  “Well, you damn well better hurry,” she said in a shrill whisper, “because by this time tomorrow it’ll be too late to play the hero, Mr. Madigan.”

  She walked to the study door, leaving the subtle scent of wildflowers in her wake. Dan’s face stung like she’d slapped him—and he’d deserved it—but it was the childlike terror in her voice that told him this couldn’t be another idle promise like he often made to his ladies of the evening. Sahara Caldwell could not become Mrs. Horatio Spade! As he watched her knock softly and then close the study door behind her, he was praying desperately for her safety.

  “Daniel,” a voice behind him stated.

  Even before he turned, he knew Jennifer had witnessed his vow at the foot of the stairs. Spade’s daughter spoke in quiet commands when things weren’t going her way; it was a tone as delicate as froth on a stream, froth that concealed the rocky, treacherous rapids he’d ride if he incited her jealousy any further.

  He forced a smile. “You look lovely tonight, Miss Jenny. That shade of pink becomes you.”

  Jennifer extended a willowy arm, her smile as demure as a snake’s. “Now that Daddy’s amusing himself with his new doll, it seems the perfect time to slip away to the back porch. Dinner might be a while, and I’m…so very hungry.”

  Sahara stood absolutely still while Horatio Spade gobbled her up in his greedy gaze. He was circling her, practically drooling as he murmured his awed approval, and she felt extremely grateful to Zerelda Roberts for teaching her that silent, impeccable manners were a woman’s best defense against disgust. Despite his expensive suit and the glimmer of his gold watch chain, rings, and jeweled stick pin, Spade was indeed a toad in rich man’s clothing.

  “Sahara…Sahara, my darling, you’re a wondrous sight. Truly a marvel to behold,” he babbled. He smoothed his pomaded hair back and then took her hand, smothering it in his oily grip. “And where did you get such an exotic name? It suits you perfectly now, my desert flower.”

  Swallowing her revulsion, she looked him proudly in the eye. “Mama thought it sounded enduring and invincible. She said I’d need such strength to survive.”

  “I understand she’s gone now? And your father as well?”

  Sahara nodded. Mama would be so proud to see her coifed and dressed like a society belle; a
sad thought, but it steadied her as she remembered the aspirations and the strong name her mother expected her to live up to. “It’s just Bobby and me now. But we get by.”

  Horatio’s laughter filled the paneled room. “I’d say ‘getting by’ will be the least of your worries from here on out, my dear. Your brother’s means weren’t the most noble, but I’m sure you’ll agree they justified the end.”

  He was challenging her with a pointed gaze, so she smiled sweetly. “Like I said, we get by.”

  Spade chortled again, his eyes beady-bright. He was standing close enough that she caught the mingled scents of brandy on his breath, and his pomade, and the dense heat of his bloated body. Was he going to kiss her? Only the whores’ warnings to stand firm without a whimper kept her from bolting toward the door when he inclined his head, lowering his eyelids.

  But he sucked in his breath and backed away. “You tempt me, darling, but if I allow myself even a tiny taste of you, we’ll be here all night. Best to save it for after the ceremony and tend to the business at hand, before I lose all control.”

  Sahara let out the breath she’d been holding and perched on the chair Horatio pointed to as he dropped into his own leather seat. He was grinning, obviously about to bestow favors upon her for which she was to act profusely grateful, so she fixed an expectant smile on her face.

  “This marriage brings about many changes for me, Sahara,” he stated as he shuffled some documents on his desk. “Not the least of which involve my estate. I’m quite aware that you’ll be subjected to the gawking and whispering that always occur when people of our disparate ages and social standings unite. As my daughter, Jennifer will still inherit the ranch, the other residences, and my various financial holdings when I pass on, but your name is now on the Spade Express Company. Not an endowment to be taken lightly, as I’m sure you know.”