by Taylor Lee
Sadie stood up taller, her cheeks flushing brighter. Desire brought back a little of the provocative glow, a couple of years with Shamus must have beaten out of her. Her face cracked with what could have passed for a flirtatious smile.
Dipping into her Irish brogue, she teased, “I dunno, Angel. The poker players call you Angel. But from that dancin’ light sparklin’ in them bonny green eyes of yours, I’m bettin’ you’re more of devil between the sheets than an angel.”
Gabe laughed and winked at her, a sure signal to confirm her suspicions.
Gunnar called him from the doorway. Gabe shoved the pouch in Sadie’s hand and gave her fingers a little squeeze. “Excuse me, Sadie. I have to see what Gunnar needs.”
Gabe joined his partners in the yard. The light of the moon flickering through the clouds lit the full saddlebags Gunnar and Eagle had packed on their horses.
The three of them exchanged a satisfied smile. Gunnar spoke for all three. “This may be some of the easiest money we ever made. Hell, we get the money Dominquez is paying us and then you skim off over $10,000 playing poker with those misfits. I gotta ask, Gabe, how the hell did you know you could take him in that last hand?”
Gabe grinned. “Ah, Gunnar, you know the cards speak to me. Hell, this time they were screaming. They were as eager to thwart that asshole as I was.”
After their celebratory laughter died down, Gunnar turned to Gabe, “This is the first chance I’ve had to give you this message. Chao Li wants you to come to his villa. Says he needs to see you in person.”
Gabe frowned. “Must be something serious. Chao’s never called me to his home. We’ve always met at one of his offices.”
While Eagle went to get their horses, Gabe’s thoughtful frown deepened. He turned to his partner. “Gunnar, you and Eagle go ahead. Scout it out. See what you hear. Chao’s gotta be in trouble.”
Gunnar nodded and mounted his horse.
Gabe flung one strong leg up over his black Arabian stallion. Seating himself easily in the saddle, he took the reins Eagle held out to him.
He turned back to see Sadie in the doorway. Already the lines around her eyes were softer, her expression less pained. Gabe gave her a little salute. “Get some rest, Sadie.”
As the three partners headed out, Gabe pulled up and called back over his shoulder. “And, Sadie, a little advice. Stay away from poker players. I hear they’re a bad lot.”
~~
Chapter 1
Ana shoved her fist in her mouth to swallow her gasp. Sucking in a shallow breath, she scrabbled for air. She squeezed her eyes shut, not believing what she saw. But there was no denying it. Molly’s bare white arse was hiked up over the sawhorse, her legs spread wide apart. Even if she could mistake the sight, there was no mistaking the sounds. Spellbound by the shocking display, Ana inched closer, clinging to the stall railing, hunting for cover. At the sound of a low husky groan, she ducked into an empty stall and huddled against the wide boards taking tiny silent sips of air.
Her face burned. She struggled against fear, shame. She was horrified, but couldn’t force her eyes to look away. Shielded by the stall door, she choked back her embarrassment and peeked through the slats, mesmerized by the scandalous sight.
Even though she couldn’t see her face, there was no question it was Molly. Ana had never seen her naked but there weren’t many maids with that broad a bottom. Her arse looked like dimpled, fleshy lumps of bread dough. The man’s large hands, his fingers spread wide apart, couldn’t contain the soft spongy spread. And that was Molly’s giggle, her throaty come hither laugh. The one that made the ranch hands hitch up their trousers and growl in anticipation. Yes, it was definitely Molly. Who else--except maybe Caitlin--would let someone copulate with her in the barn in broad daylight? Even thinking the word shocked her, but, damn, Ana thought, there was only one other word to describe what the man was doing to a very willing Molly and Ana didn’t dare say it--even to herself.
As appalled as she was at the sight of Molly’s bare butt, Ana was stunned by the man. She had never seen him before. He was tall, dark. A stranger. Even bent over Molly’s naked backside, he looked huge. His shoulders were broad, his muscular legs strained against the tight warp of his pants. Incongruously, Ana noted with a start that the big man was fully clothed. Unlike Molly whose arse and legs were bare to the world, her teeming breasts overflowing the twisted bodice of her dress, he even had on his cowboy hat. Well, not fully dressed, Ana corrected herself. She didn’t need to see the front of him to guess at the exposed appendage wringing desperate guttural pleas from Molly.
Glancing up at the rafters, Ana throttled a gasp. Not only were Molly’s legs spread wide apart, held open by his strong thighs, but her hands were tied at the wrists. The rope manacling them was hooked over the tack clamp hanging from the center beam. For a whisper of a second, Ana wondered if the man was hurting Molly, forcing her to do this disgraceful act. If she needed evidence that Molly was an enthusiastic participant, Molly’s soft, grunting pleas disabused her of that thought.
“Ah, yes, me man. Like that! More, harder!” Molly begged.
The man seemed more than able to meet her breathy demands. His voice was low, an amused rumbling sound. As though he was teasing her, manipulating her groaning passion, he pulled back then pressed forward, plunging in and out of Molly’s impatient flesh.
Ana might be naïve, but she wasn’t stupid. She had seen plenty of animals mating. And she knew what the ranch hands did with the maids at night. She overheard the maids giggling about their escapades, sharing bawdy tales, comparing the physical traits of the eager men who traded them like marbles in the schoolyard. But this? Even the coarsest of the hands wouldn’t dare to do what this man was doing in the middle of the day. Her father would fire him, after having him whipped. Ana knew Molly was a slut. But for God’s sake, it was mid-morning. Molly was supposed to be working in the kitchen, scrubbing floors, washing the sheets, ironing her clothes, not…not allowing, no encouraging…begging! a strange man to fuck her in the barn.
Even from behind, Ana could tell this man was different, not like the other cowboys she knew. He was powerful, strong. But it was his voice, low, crooning, and commanding that sent shivers coursing through her body. She tried to ignore the sensations flooding her. This was wrong. Bad. Who was he? How dare he come to a strange place uninvited and behave so disreputably? She chided herself. I have to get out of here. I must leave. What if he sees me? But she couldn’t go. Instead, she moved closer. Damnit, why couldn’t she look away? Why did she want to get closer, press harder against the stall gate to hear what he was saying? Why did she need to know the words that were making Molly beg, and pant, and groan? And, damn, why couldn’t she take her eyes off the rope that held Molly exactly where the big man wanted her, a willing prisoner to his lewd demands.
Ana clamped her hands over her mouth to smother the moans she couldn’t contain when the big man hoisted Molly’s arse higher in the air and began thrusting in earnest. He held one hand over Molly’s mouth to stifle what would have been a piercing shriek. And then it was over. With a practiced flick of his hand, the man freed Molly’s hands and lifted her off her perch, settling her on the ground. The slight twitch of his tight butt confirmed that he closed the flap on his pants and stood fully dressed before the disheveled maid. Molly’s bright red cheeks, heaving breasts, and wide glowing eyes said what words couldn’t. The man chucked her under her chin and chuckled. His words were as shocking to Ana as his actions.
“Thank you, lass. A most enjoyable way to make your acquaintance.” His voice was pleasant, unconcerned, as though she had given him a glass of water, not spread her legs and opened her womanhood to a total stranger. As though such a disgraceful act was not out of the ordinary, rather, that it was expected, appropriate.
Molly tossed her head with a wide grin, straightened her wrinkled skirt and tucked her breasts back inside her bodice. Ana noted with a silent snort that Molly’s pretend effort at latent modesty onl
y emphasized the plump freckled mounds. Flushing brighter, her eyes dancing with mischief, Molly curtseyed, her eyes darting to the placket of the man’s trousers. Her voice was coarse, insinuating, pretending to an innocence belied by her brash appraising glance.
“It was me pleasure, sir. You sure’n do know how to make a maiden blush. I donna know what came over me. I never done this before with a stranger.”
His tone was faintly mocking, his words knowing. “I’m sure you haven’t, miss. Excuse me, but I didn’t catch your name – nor did I introduce myself.”
Molly giggled. “Me name is Molly, sir. I’m the head maid to the young mistress.”
Ana scowled at the blatant lie from the simpering maid.
The big man bowed slightly. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Molly. My name is Gabriel McKenna.” He added with a chuckle, “My friends call me Gabe.”
Molly tossed her head with an impudent grin. “Can I be callin’ you Gabe, or should I be sayin’ Mr. McKenna.
The man laughed. “Molly, I think that Gabe is quite in order.”
At the sound of voices in the yard, Molly started and jerked toward the entrance.
“I..I best be goin’, Mr. Gabe. Me mistress is a tyrant, a spiteful little lass. She wouldna be pleased to see me makin’ your acquaintance in such a familiar way.”
The man leaned back against the post, amusement filtering his response.
“I understand, Molly. Mistresses, especially spiteful ones, often resent the charms of a ’maiden’ like you.” His ironic emphasis on the word was lost on Molly. With a saucy twitch of her butt, she flounced to the doorway and waved back at him over her shoulder.
Annoyance roiled in Ana’s craw at her maid’s disgraceful assertions, but her anger was short lived. At that moment, Gabe McKenna turned toward her. For the first time Ana saw him full face. She couldn’t contain her gasp.
She knew from his name and the slight lilt in his voice that he likely was Irish. But nothing could have prepared her for the sight of him. Curly black hair hung carelessly close to his collar. His skin was dark, tanned by the sun. A web of fine lines circled his eyes, confirming that his smile was not an aberration. High cheekbones, a firm chin and full, sensuous lips made her bite down hard to stop hers from trembling. But it was his eyes that stole her breath. Dark forest green, shot with a rainbow of competing shades of gold, they twinkled as if he was still amused at his most recent conquest. Ana had heard of black Irish, their stark beauty the stuff of legends, but this man was real. She had never seen anything like him.
Reaching in his vest pocket, he pulled out an elaborately carved gold cigarette case. Removing a custom rolled cigarette, he struck a match and lit it. He took a lazy drag, then blew a puff of aromatic smoke in the air, momentarily shielding his face. When the smoke cleared, he held the cigarette between his lips and began unwinding the rope from the hook. He coiled it over his shoulder in a practiced loop. The sight of his strong hands manipulating the sturdy rope shot a rush of sensation to Ana’s heated core. Unable to catch herself, she stumbled, knocking against the stall gate. Gabe started at the noise, then a slow grin spread across his face. He eased toward the stall with the lithe grace of a panther, easy, quick, menacing. Tossing the cigarette on the floor, he snuffed it out with his boot heel, then kicked open the door.
~~
Chapter 2
Gabe frowned at the sight of the young boy huddled in the corner of the stall. He was small, slender, and filthy. His black cowboy hat shadowed his face. From what Gabe could see, the kid’s face was as dirty as the rest of him. His tight riding pants, vest, and open necked plaid shirt were thick with dust. His scruffy boots were caked with mud. Gabe had a momentary twinge of guilt at what the youngster had observed, but quickly saw the humor.
Stepping back so as not to overpower the young man, he tried to lessen the boy’s certain embarrassment with a joke.
“Well, well, well, young fellow. This is quite a surprise. Hell, kid, you should have let me know you were there. Not that I mind an audience. But I prefer grown men who like to partner, not young boys barely out of knee pants.”
When the kid tensed up and didn’t answer, Gabe saw he would have to take the initiative. “Okay, kid. Come on out. Much as I’m sure you’d like to hide in there all day, you’re going to have to face me sometime.” He stepped forward and held out his hand. “C’mon. You don’t have to be afraid of me. I’m not going to tell your boss. This can be between you and me. I won’t hurt you.”
To his surprise, the boy straightened up and stepped forward. He glared at Gabe, his lips white with fury. His voice was harsh, angry.
“First of all, I am not afraid of you. Second, I am not a kid, and third, I am not a boy. I am a woman! Now, get out of my way!”
Gabe startled at the timbre of the kid’s voice, then stared in surprise at the angry girl who shoved past him. As she stormed by, he grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her back.
“Uh, uh. Oh, no, you don’t. You think you are going to drop that firebomb and waltz out of here?”
She jerked away, trying to free her arm, but Gabe held her tight.
“Not so fast, sweetheart. Let’s see what we have going on here.”
Keeping a firm grip on her arm, he reached over and tipped up her hat. To his surprise, beneath the dirt and the palpable anger he saw the potential for a hell of a beautiful Chinese girl. Not stopping at her face, he raked his eyes rudely down her body, taking in the soft curves and lush mounds. He noted in appreciation that all the parts were just where they ought to be. He grinned at her, ignoring her obvious fury.
“Well, I’ll be damned. I guess you’re right about one thing. You are a girl. I’m not sure about the woman part.” He chuckled. “That remains to be seen, but you definitely are of the female variety.” Nodding at her clothes, he added, “When did they start turning girls into stable hands? What did they do, honey, run out of boys?”
She jerked hard and he let go of her arm, but eased her back against the stall, cutting off an escape.
“I said, let me go. Now!” Her face twisted with anger. Her voice was fierce, although Gabe thought he detected an under layer of fear.
Gabe tipped back his hat and grinned at her.
“In case you hadn’t noticed, sweetheart, you aren’t the one calling the shots here. And, honey, just so you know, I don’t take orders under the best of circumstances, particularly from haughty little girls who just spent the last fifteen minutes spying on me.”
She sputtered, trying to back away but hit the wall.
“I did not spy. You! You are disgraceful! And…and…don’t you dare call me sweetheart or honey or anything like that. Do you hear me?”
Gabe was having a hard time not laughing at her temper, but he had to admit she had guts. Hell, a man who outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds and was a foot taller was looming over her and she was threatening him!
“Yeah, I hear you, sweetheart. And I see you. The way you saw me in an intimate situation and didn’t have the courtesy to announce yourself or better yet, walk the hell away from here. Why not, honey? Did you like what you saw?” When her face flushed a dark dusky pink, he pressed further. “What about it, sweetheart? Did you think if you hung around, you might get lucky?”
She literally growled, then reached back and swung hard at his face. She was quick, but he was quicker. He caught her hand inches away from his face. With a swift twist he bent her arm up behind her back and pressed her hard against the wall, his body hovering next to hers. She cried out at the pain but he didn’t lighten his hold, if anything he tightened his grip. He leaned down, his lips next to her ear. He spoke softly but his voice was cold. For the first time his amusement was gone.
“Honey, listen up. I don’t take orders from naughty little girls. Do you hear me? And, nobody, but nobody, hits me without serious repercussions. You got that?’
When she twisted away struggling to move back but only succeeded in burying her face ag
ainst his chest, he took her chin between his finger and thumb, forcing her face up close to his.
“Look at me.” She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head no, trying to jerk free.
“I said look at me.” When she opened her eyes, tears swimming close to the edge, he repeated, “I asked you if you understand. Do you?”
When she refused to answer, his voice dropped to a whisper. “Answer me!”
In a barely audible whisper, she said, “Yes.”
He stepped back and freed her arm. He was surprised at the anger swirling in his gut, but even more stunned at the tightening swell in his trousers. Christ, he cautioned himself. Don’t let this feisty little imp get to you. But, damn, there was something about her, her refusal to bow to him, to show her fear that impressed him. And hell, yeah, it turned him on. Deciding to take a different tack before he embarrassed them both, he took several steps back, a wicked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Glad we’ve got that settled, honey.” He emphasized the endearment and grinned when she glared at him. “Just so you know, I don’t hit girls. Haven’t since I was four years old and Sarah was five. But, hell, she deserved it. She took my toy gun and wouldn’t give it back.” Glad to see the rigid muscles tightening her shoulders relax somewhat, he added with a wink, “However, I do spank little girls – and occasionally big girls when they misbehave.”
Ana stumbled back at his arrogant taunt. Her eyes flickered frantically from side to side, then rested on the rope coiled over his shoulder. He intercepted her glance and saw her horror. His smile widened. He didn’t know why he was taunting her, teasing her. He knew at base she was embarrassed and probably as scared as she was angry. But he didn’t relent.
“Hmm, so that’s how it is, little girl. I see the idea of me turning you over my knee excites you.” When she gasped, fiercely shaking her head, bright red splotches flaming her cheeks, he continued. “And something about this rope interests you, doesn’t it? Tell me, little girl, what was the best part of the scene you spied on? What turned this little voyeur on? You liked seeing your fellow servant tied up, at my mercy?”