Golden Torment

by Janelle Taylor

  Infuriated by his game, she stepped aside and offered, “By all means, come inside, Mr. Jurrell. It is your cabin.”

  Once he swaggered past her, she closed the door and locked it. She stormed past him and replaced the tub and bucket. When she returned to find him grinning broadly, she snapped, “What’s so amusing?”

  “Oh, I was just enjoying the sight. You really shouldn’t lean over in a skimpy get-up like that. Might give a fellow ideas.”

  His implication clear, she fused crimson. “You’re a crude beast, Jurrell! I’ll fix dinner after I dress.” She headed for his bedroom in a huff.

  She jerked open his closet door and withdrew a shirt and pair of pants. She headed for his chest and removed some bloomers and a snug-fitting chemise. She whirled to find him leaning negligently against the doorframe, grinning at her. “What are you gaping at?” she asked, teeth clenched.

  “My disobedient wife. I see you made yourself at home during my absence,” he lazily remarked.

  “You did say I could!” she responded pertly.

  “I did at that, didn’t I?” he murmured seductively. “You know you’re beautiful when you’re angry. My shirt becomes you, my wild ice maiden.” Ebony eyes leisurely travelled ivory flesh and tawny hair.

  “Is that why you constantly try to enflame my temper?”

  “No. I do it because you have a willful streak which refuses to be tamed. I told you not to go outside or open that door for any reason.”

  “I wanted to take a bath! I didn’t see any harm in that.”

  “You could have waited for my return. What if that hadn’t been me outside just now?” he scolded her.

  “But it was!” she heatedly protested. “Was it a terrible crime?”

  “Do you know how many crazed men live here, men who’d love to get hands on a woman like you? Didn’t you learn anything from your run-ins with Slavin and those killers? Being brutally raped isn’t a pretty sight,” he warned, his tightly leashed temper now showing. “If that hadn’t been me, you would be in big trouble right now. I think I’d better teach you how to shoot and leave a pistol with you when I’m gone. But don’t you ever open that door again, especially not dressed like that!” he thundered.

  “You don’t own me, Jurrell, and I can take care of myself!”

  “If I hadn’t released your hand earlier, I could have been inside and you would have been helpless to prevent any intention I had! How many times must I warn you this is wild country? Have you forgotten those men on the trail? You could have been killed!”

  “And you’d be delightfully rid of me?” she sneered irrationally.

  He surged forward and grabbed her. “Damnit, woman! What will it take for you to obey me? Get packed! I’m taking you home in the morning. If you get hurt, it won’t be because of me! I’d never forgive myself.”

  With that statement, he stalked out, heading for the kitchen. He yanked open a cabinet and withdrew a bottle of brandy. He poured two fingers and tossed it down. Kathy knew she was wrong, but why was admitting it so difficult? Why was she being so hateful?

  She came up behind him as he slowly sipped a second glass. “I’m sorry, Landis. You’re right. I won’t disobey you again.”

  “Just make sure you mean it this time,” he cautioned without turning, his body stiff with pent-up fury.

  Kathy dressed and prepared supper, serving it to a still moody Landis. She had no way of knowing he had dropped the traps outside and headed for Dawson only to discover some disturbing facts. After the meal was eaten and the dishes cleared away, she slowly walked into the living area and sat down in the chair opposite the sofa where he was reclining. His eyes were closed, his head resting against the sofa back. Yet, he didn’t appear relaxed at all. His body was taut; his jaw was clenched tightly; his face was etched in lines of angry resolve.

  Something was eating at him, more than her error. Oh, Landis, if only you would talk to me, she thought. If only I could know what troubles you so deeply.

  He looked at her, his expression unreadable. She lowered her thick lashes, wishing she hadn’t destroyed their joyous truce. “I really am sorry. I promise not to do anything like that again. Do you want me to pack?”

  He knew he should say yes, but he didn’t. He shook his head and motioned for her to come sit beside him. She did so without question or hesitation. Landis pulled her close to him, resting his chin on her silky head as it nestled against his chest. They sat without speaking for a long time. Only soft breathing prevented total silence.

  “It’s late, Kat. We’d best turn in,” he suggested, his voice strained, reflecting fatigue.

  She arose, waiting for him to extinguish the lanterns. He took her hand and led her to the bedroom. She started to put on her gown, but he captured it and tossed it to the floor. “I want you,” he said.

  “I want you, too,” she replied sincerely. She slipped off her garments and eased into the bed. He did the same.

  As she curled against him, Landis muttered, “I’m worried about you, Kat. I hate to think what might have happened to you if that hadn’t been me. You don’t seem to understand the way it is around here.”

  “I didn’t mean to upset you, love. I always seem to say and do the wrong things with you. I shouldn’t have opened the door. Thank God it was you. I’m just not used to living under fear and danger.”

  He smiled into the darkness. “Just don’t do it again; promise?”

  “I promise. Did you have any luck today?”

  “Luck?” he echoed, his tone guarded and distant.

  “With the traps, silly,” she playfully clarified.

  “I put ’em outside. I don’t need to check them until tomorrow. Most varmits come out at night to take your bait,” he stated carefully, craftily telling the truth, but cunningly misleading her.

  Kathy sensed something in his inflection, but didn’t press. She snuggled against him and closed her eyes. He lay on his back, one hand tucked under his head. He was distant and pensive. Kathy fretted over this behavior. He had said he wanted her; yet, he made no move to take her. He was ensnared in a world which didn’t include her. Was it boredom, or that instinctive demand for self-preservation?

  She moved her hand across the breadth of his chest, to return near his heart to toy with the curling black mat. She pressed her body closer to his, boldly laying one shapely limb over his leg, to rest between his wellmuscled thighs. She turned her head to deliver warm and stirring kisses to his shoulder as she caressed the fuzzy hardness of his upper torso.

  When he remained motionless and silent, Kathy took his lack of response as disinterest and lingering anger. Her body ached at his cold denial. She moved away and turned toward the wall. Landis lifted his head and studied her action, her outline dim in the glowing shadows from the firelight filtering through his open door. Her snuffle informed him of her silent weeping.

  He cleared his mind of all matters except her and this raging need to consume her. “Why did you stop?” he tenderly chided. “I was enjoying it. I don’t get a chance to relax in such a stimulating way.”

  “You didn’t seem to be enjoying it. Your mind wasn’t here with me. Are you bored with me already? Are you sorry you brought me here?” she painfully inquired, her voice tight with emotion.

  “You couldn’t be more wrong, Kat. I didn’t realize you felt so daring or at ease. Lose your newfound courage so quickly?” he teased, stroking her slender back. “You have a devastating effect on a man. I was afraid if I moved or spoke, you might stop. I was just lying here thinking how great it was to come home to you and be greeted in such a heady manner.”

  “You certainly didn’t appear to enjoy it,” she charged again. “You’re rigid and remote and edgy.”

  He seized her hand and placed it around his throbbing manhood. “Is that boredom?” he challenged, laughing softly as she attempted to pull her hand free. He caught her shoulder and pushed her down beside him, leaning forward to warm the icy peaks on her chest. They responded instant
ly to his moist, fiery tongue. His hand released hers to wander over her body. His mouth skillfully plundered hers as he murmured, “If you’ve turned coward, then I’ll take the lead.”

  His kisses were tantalizing as they sent her soaring high where breathing was difficult and her senses swirled madly. His fingers lightly trailed over her chest, cupping each breast and thumbing each peak into eager readiness. The titillating journey continued down her stomach, feeling the sudden tightening there, roving over her nicely rounded hips, ending its stimulating trek in a golden forest which welcomed his invasion. His hand explored deftly and carefully, teasing her to quivering delight.

  Her hand had remained on that intoxicating staff of pleasure, relishing its warmth and satiny texture. Slowly her fingers started a journey of their own. They lightly traced its full length, from crisply forested base to sensitive tip. How could anything be so torrid and silky, and yet so vital and hard?

  Her heated response, her total surrender, and her enticing actions sorely strained his control. He moved above her, causing her hand to fall away from his aching manhood, but to instantly encircle his back. He tenderly drove into her, his movements deliberately provocative. She moaned against his lips, clinging to him. His mouth was demanding, his tongue teasing her lips before it fastened almost savagely to hers. Their bodies worked in unison for a mutual goal which quickly loomed in sight. They made love passionately, almost desperately and savagely.

  Kathy’s release came swiftly and easily, sending tingles over her slim frame. Joining her pursuit to heights previously unknown with other women, he plunged time and time again as his own release stunned him with its immense power. Bored and distant? There were no such things where Kat Marlowe was concerned!

  The tranquil aftermath surrounded and encased them. He rested on his side, his face nestled to her fragrant hair. His leg was casually resting over hers, his arm holding her against his sated body. She sighed happily as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. She closed her eyes and relaxed into his embrace, deeply aware of the love and passion she would have been denied if she hadn’t met this unique man, or if she hadn’t found the courage to pursue her heart’s desire.

  When it seemed she was slumbering, Landis cautiously eased from her arms and the bed. He stood beside it for a long time, gazing down at her. He silently walked to his desk in the adjoining room and unlocked it with a key which he pulled from his pocket, on that same gold chain from which her wedding ring had come. He sat down and began to write on an ivory page. Every so often, he would look up and stare unseeingly at the wall before adding more words to that page.

  Kathy watched him from the shadows of their room, musing over his action and intense mood. When he closed the desk and locked it, she quickly returned to the bed and pretended to be asleep. Landis quietly entered the room and checked on her, believing she was entrapped in the dark world of sleep. He walked to the chest and lay some papers there. He moved the picture aside, revealing a cut-out in the log behind it. He took out a package and put the new papers inside. After replacing them, he straightened the picture and re-adjusted the telltale string.

  Satisfied, he came back to bed. As he settled himself, Kathy moaned and rolled into his arms. He embraced her and closed his eyes, with Kathy pondering his curious actions when sleep finally claimed her.

  Twelve

  Those next five days cast an intoxicating pattern over their lives. Many days and nights were consumed by fiery passion, while other times were absorbed by chores and conversations. Landis continued his daily task of trapping, or so Kathy believed. Fortunately for Landis, she never questioned why he didn’t bring pelts home to be cured. He did bring home a slain deer, suspending it from a tree limb to carve and salt for the winter.

  She donned her heavy parka to stand outside to watch his skilled hands at work. He chuckled when she thanked him for gutting and bleeding it before his return. Once the hunks of meat were cut to his liking, he salted all except one to cook for supper. Observing him, she was annoyed that he could very well survive alone. Was there nothing he couldn’t do?

  To her surprise, after he washed up, he actually prepared the roast himself. He covered the lean haunch with local herbs to make it tender and to bring out its best flavor. Once the meat was simmering, he dropped into a chair and called her over to him. Landis patted his lap, indicating for her to sit there.

  She did so with undeniable eagerness. “You’re quite handy to have around, Mr. Jurrell. Whatever shall I do when I return to Skagway and have to work so hard? Worse, I’ll be woefully out of condition after lazing around here for two weeks.”

  Genial laughter rumbled against her ear as she curled into his arms. “You can hardly call this out of shape, love,” he murmured, affectionately patting her rump and stroking her slim and firm legs.

  “You’re prejudiced. You think I’m perfect,” she coyly teased, looking up into his laughing face. She ran her fingers over his lean jawline which was stubbled since this morning’s shave. She playfully slid her finger up the side of his face, over his proud forehead, down his nose, and along his sensuous lips. Admiring the entrancing planes of his handsome face, she halted to finger a thin white scar on his strong chin.

  “How did you get this?” she asked inquisitively.

  “In a fight, naturally,” he easily replied, saying no more.

  She seductively unbuttoned his shirt and sent her exploratory hand to finger another longer scar across his right shoulder blade. “And this one?” she probed, unperturbed by his guarded manner.

  When he glanced down into her expectant face, it was only inches from his. “Aren’t we curious Kat today?” he taunted her, then nibbled at her lips to distract her.

  “It won’t work, Jurrell. Either answer or say it’s none of my business,” she chided him.

  “In a fight,” he stated, still sensuously attacking her pouting lips.

  “The same one?” she calmly continued her probe.

  “Nope. Up here, there are lots of claim disputes as well as quarrels over trapping rights. I’m involved in both; I run into trouble here and there. This one,” he began, touching the pencil-thin scar on his chin, “came from a man’s ring when he slugged me. Seems he forgot where he laid his traps and tried to steal mine. This one came from a claim-jumper. He thought mine was yielding more gold than his. When I refused to move on or sell out, he tried to knife me in the back. I turned too quickly, and the blade skimmed over my shoulder. Any more questions, Mrs. Jurrell?” he stated, using that name as frequently as possible to impress it in his mind.

  His eyes were sparkling with mischief. “Any more scars and scary tales?” she asked.

  “You seem awfully intrigued by my body tonight. Think I should strip you and examine yours just as closely?” he threatened.

  “In my opinion, you know every inch,” she saucily retorted.

  “That I do. Can’t say as I found anything to worry over either. Too bad you don’t have some flaws to subtract a little of your irresistible beauty and charms. For the past five days, you haven’t given me anything to find fault with, just more golden trappings.”

  As Landis tickled her, a knock sounded on his cabin door. He clamped his hand over her mouth and hushed her. He whispered in her ear, “Go to the bedroom and close the door. Stay there.”

  “What’s wrong?” she inquired.

  “No questions right now. Just do like I said,” he ordered tersely. “I don’t want anyone to know you’re here. I’ll explain later.”

  She struggled to get up, finally accepting his assistance. He watched her until the door closed behind her, then went to answer the knock. He pulled his pistol from the holster hanging on a large peg, then concealed it beneath his overhanging shirt-tail. He pushed the bar over and unlocked the door, stepping aside in case of danger.

  “We got problems, CI…,” the Mounty began, but was hastily silenced by Landis’s waving hand. Trace Blitch glanced past him, seeing no one there. Intrigue filled his blue eyes.


  Landis motioned him outside. They walked a few feet from the cabin. “What’s going on, Trace?”

  “Company?” Trace asked, flashing a curious look at the cabin.

  “Yep,” Landis stated, but didn’t expound. “You want something?”

  Trace allowed the private matter to pass. “You recall those men who came here months ago to explore the Yukon? Captain Ray, Lieutenant Wilds, and Richardson?”

  When Landis nodded, he went on. “Seems they like what they see and-plan to stay through next fall. You know what that means.”

  “They sent any reports back?” Landis asked thoughtfully.

  “No. But Wilds carries around a packet of notes. The way he guards them, I’d sure like to get a peek at what’s inside.”

  “Does Bill Thomas think the American government sent them here?”

  “He suspects something’s going on. Did Bill tell you General Funston nosed around in that same area? They appear mighty interested in those settlements claimed under American pre-emption. They’ve been asking lots of questions about our headquarters and the commissioner for this territory.”

  Landis walked off a few steps, hesitated, then came back to where Trace was waiting. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, the icy wind nipping at them. His broad shoulders were bent forward in a futile attempt to ward off the chill. “What’s got Bill so worried? We’ve had explorers coming and going. I keep my eye open while I guide their expeditions. Haven’t seen anything unusual. Funston even spent a few days with me and Ben, mostly with Ben. He acted like he was on a holiday Heseemed quite taken with the countryside and resources, but he hasn’t been back.”

  Trace looked him in the eye and speculated, “But Funston and the others didn’t mention Jake Hammond’s name. Bill thinks this Hammond is working undercover for the Americans. He suspects some of these expeditions by American Army officials have to do with passing information and reports back and forth, probably to this Hammond.”

  “Hammond’s spying for the Americans?” Landis asked, that news most alarming. Is that what Bill was hinting at when he speculated Hammond was nosing around this area, for his government and not private interests? No wonder Bill had reacted so coldly and suspiciously to his marriage…Surely Bill didn’t think Kat was involved, or that he might drop vital clues to her?