Midnight Flame

by Lynette Vinet

  “Damn you!” Her epithet was met by a chuckle of amusement.

  “Texas has spiced up your vocabulary.”

  “Go to hell,” she intoned. Laurel rose, water dripping in silver rivulets down her golden pink body. Clutching the towel to her upper body, she managed only to cover her breasts and the dark triangle at the top of her legs. However, she didn’t realize that the flimsy cloth only enhanced her attributes by clinging wetly to her curves and emphasizing the parts of herself she wished to keep hidden from Tony.

  She didn’t hear his intake of breath as she stepped gingerly out of the copper tub, but the desire flaring in his eyes was unmistakable. Nervously, she scanned the room for her nightgown. She knew Rosita had gotten it from Gincie earlier because she had seen it on the bed. Now it was gone.

  “Looking for something?”

  “My—my gown,” she stuttered, feeling the room’s chill settling over her body.

  Tony turned his head in two directions, then said innocently, “I don’t see any gown. Perhaps Rosita didn’t bring it.”

  “I know she did. I—saw—it.” Her teeth began to chatter. “Please go get Rosita—for me. Or knock on Gincie’s door. I need—my—gown.”

  “Stop it, Laurel!” Tony ground out. “You didn’t sleep in a gown at Petit Coteau. You don’t need the pristine piece of cloth now.” He opened the bedcovers to her. “Come to bed and warm up before you turn into an icicle.”

  She shook her head. “I won’t.”

  “Stop being such a bullheaded female.”

  “I—am not a—bullheaded female.”

  “Damn if you aren’t!” Tony growled lowly. He sprang from the bed and pulled the wet towel out of her tight clutch. He scooped her up into his arms, while she flailed at him and protested, but he didn’t heed her angry words. One second he held her against the warm fuzz of his chest, and the next she was plopped onto the bed and he was pulling the covers over her.

  “I thought you were level-headed, but Texas has made a hellcat out of you. I arrived none too soon, Laurel. You’ve been on your own for too long now. You need a man to tame you.”

  “And I suppose you think you’re that man!”

  Tony bent over her, his breath ruffled the tousled strands of her hair. “I better be, because I’ll kill any man that lays a hand on you. Including that conniving Seth.”

  “Seth has been a gentleman,” Laurel protested.

  “I hope for his sake that he has. If not, he’ll wind up no better than a castrated bull.”

  “Tony! You’re being ridiculous now.”

  His mouth twisted in a wry grin. “That includes any other man who might get any ideas in his head about you. You’re my wife, and no man takes what’s mine.”

  “Why, you pompous, arrogant…” Her voice drifted away to nothing when Tony didn’t seem to hear her. Moving away from her, he went to the bureau and turned down the oil lamp until the only light in the room was from the large Texas moon outside. Laurel pulled the quilt up to her neck, watching as he walked around to his side of the bed and began to undress.

  Her pulse raced, and she found herself shivering beneath the warm blanket, not from cold but from a sudden surge of desire that twisted warmly in her stomach. If just seeing Tony’s perfect nude body in the moonlight could do this to her, what might happen if he touched her? But she couldn’t turn her gaze from him. It had been so long since she was wrapped in his strong embrace or stroked the rippling muscles of his arms and back that she grew dizzy with the thought of it. She had fought this absurd bargain between them, but now that the moment was at hand, she admitted she didn’t want to fight if he touched her, kissed her. She knew she would melt the moment his lips found hers. Tony possessed a power over her body, her senses. No matter what had happened in the past between them, Tony was still the only man she would ever love. But she vowed she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that. She would fight him if he touched her and retain some pride.

  Laurel turned her head away. When the bed ropes creaked and the mattress dipped from the weight of Tony’s body, she found she was actually trembling. When Tony’s thigh came in contact with her right leg beneath the covers, she jerked it away, almost as if she had been burned. A second later she found her chin held in the cup of his hand, and he forced her to look at him. In the silvery moonlight, his eyes held a pain that she couldn’t help but see.

  “Don’t jerk away from me when I touch you. Remember our agreement. Lavinia is in my power, Laurel, and you know it. I can begin to make her life miserable on the morrow.”

  “Why must you use threats? I agreed to this, but I don’t have to like it. Maybe I jerked away because I hate your touching me. Why don’t you just force me and get it over with now?”

  “I’ve never forced a woman in my life. We both know that I don’t have to force you to respond to me. What’s got you all riled up is the fact that you do want me to touch you but can’t admit it.”

  “I don’t! I hate your touch.”

  “Liar.” He breathed into her ear, causing her head to spin. “I’m going to prove you wrong, Laurel, once and for all.”

  His lips descended and placed a gentle kiss upon hers. Laurel attempted to keep them tightly closed, but his tongue lapped at them until she was forced to open them, unwillingly inviting his entry. His tongue probed the dark recess of her mouth and entwined with hers. A flame ignited within her belly, growing higher and brighter, when his right hand moved beneath the cover to skim lightly across her rib cage. His palm moved upward to her breasts, full and ripe for his possession. Each one was in turn cupped in his hand, and the aching nipples massaged by fiery fingers.

  Her moan of surrender was muffled by Tony as his kiss deepened. All thought of fighting fled Laurel’s mind. A part of her knew that to fight was futile; she didn’t want the wonderful sensations his hands produced upon her wanton flesh to cease. If she fought him, she would be fighting herself as well. With mind-drugging skill, Tony’s wandering fingers began a journey downward from her breasts to the indentation of her waist, the curve of her hip, finally settling on her silken leg and trailing lazily to the soft area of her inner thigh where they hovered, dangerously close to the pulsing peak of her womanhood.

  His fingers stroked the satiny flesh of her leg but didn’t move further. Laurel writhed against the mattress in an attempt to move his fingers to the part of her that burned for his possession, but still they waited, almost singeing her with their heat. Finally she parted her thighs and arched upward, unable to speak, for Tony’s mouth still covered hers.

  Tony moved his lips from hers and whispered huskily, “Tell me you want me to touch you, Laurel. Tell me.”

  Desire beat out a wild cadence in her heart, and she could barely speak from the liquid sensations coursing through her, setting her on fire. She couldn’t wait another second to feel his hand upon her. “Touch me, touch me … touch…”

  Once again his mouth found hers and stopped all conscious thought. Laurel became a creature of sensations, no longer able to concentrate on anything but the pleasurable pulsing at her core, the fingers that trailed liquid fire in their wake as they finally found their destination. The breath died in her throat when each one slipped inside her moist warmth, then withdrew only to be plunged into the satiny depths over and over.

  Desire pulsated through her. She felt weightless. Golden and silver lights danced before her closed eyelids, threatening to blind her if she opened them. Nothing mattered to her but the shimmering point of light at the center, which grew brighter and brighter until her whole being was consumed by such ecstasy that she cried out against Tony’s lips.

  Her body trembled with her climax, having been thrown over the edge of sanity but coming to rest on a cloud, carried by a warm breeze. Slowly Laurel came back to reality and realized that Tony held her in his arms. Her eyes opened, and she gazed up at him in wonder at the full impact of his power over her. She expected him to love her completely then, for she could feel his ro
ck-hard desire against her thigh. At that moment she wouldn’t have refused him anything. In fact she craved his complete possession of her.

  His hand stroked her naked thigh, and he gently kissed her. “Never tell me you don’t want me to touch you again. I believe I’ve just proved you wrong.”

  Bestowing a kiss on each of her nipples, he grinned at her, and to her absolute surprise, he let her go and turned on his side, away from her.

  “Tony,” she mouthed his name, but no sound was forthcoming. She lay there, wide-eyed, for hours until tears slipped from under her lashes. Tony had proved a point by making her respond to him, a point that Laurel decided was quite clear. He could take her to paradise whenever he felt like it, even at the expense of his own pleasure, to show her his mastery over her body.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  When Laurel woke the next morning, Tony was gone. Gincie tapped on the door before entering with a breakfast tray, just as Laurel was getting up.

  “I don’t take breakfast in bed,” she told Gincie and clutched the sheet about her.

  A huge white smile lit up Gincie’s face. “Hush, Miss Laurel, and sit back and eat. Mr. Tony done said you’d be hungry this mornin’. You didn’t get any supper last night with all the excitement at Mr. Tony’s comin’.”

  Laurel was at first going to refuse the food because Tony had ordered it for her. When Gincie removed the red-and-white-checkered napkin that covered the plate of freshly fried ham, scrambled eggs, and a biscuit still hot from the oven and dripping with melted butter, her stomach growled. Settling herself against the back of the bed, she allowed Gincie to place the tray on her lap.

  “Now this is what my baby needs. A good breakfast and not runnin’ off after those cows. You got a good man to look after you.”

  “You would say that. But Tony and I are just living a farce of a marriage, Gincie. Don’t expect too much from this apparent reconciliation. Looks can be deceiving.”

  Laurel swallowed a forkful of egg as Gincie bent down and grabbed a white handful of material from under the bed. “My nightgown!” Laurel cried.

  “Yes, ma’am, it’s your gown all right. Now you tell old Gincie why your pretty gown is thrown under the bed and you is sittin’ there with only a sheet to cover you if you and Mr. Tony ain’t together.”

  Laurel blushed. “That bastard told me he didn’t see my gown. He put it under the bed just so I wouldn’t be able to wear it.”

  Gincie didn’t bother to hide her good-natured laugh. “I done knew Mr. Tony would think of a way to get you back.”

  “He hasn’t gotten me back yet,” Laurel professed and put the tray on the table beside the bed. “I’m not hungry any longer. I’m getting up and heading for the range.”

  “Mr. Tony left for the range hours ago. That Jim fellow came, and they went off together. He told me not to disturb you before ten.”

  “Is it that late already?” At Gincie’s nod of affirmation, Laurel bounded out of bed, muttering curses at Tony for his high-handedness in assuming that since he had arrived, she would no longer take an interest in the Little L.

  “I’ll just show him who’s boss around here,” she remarked, once she was dressed in a pair of blue Levis and a sky-blue blouse. “I was left in charge of the Little L until the new owner could adequately take over, and I don’t think Tony knows a damn about Texas ranching.”

  Gincie smirked. “Mr. Tony knows a lot. He done got you in his bed again.”

  Laurel left her room in a huff. Outdoors, as she walked to the barn for her horse, she ran into Seth. He grabbed her by the arm and swung her around when she barely acknowledged his greeting.

  “What’s wrong with you?” she bit out, sensing his argumentative attitude.

  “You slept in Duvalier’s room last night?”

  “Yes.”

  “In his bed?”

  “Where did you think I’d sleep? On the floor?”

  “Did he make love to you?”

  The memory of last night washed over her. She hated to remember what Tony had done to her, how she had responded, but she couldn’t stop the rising heat that flooded her face, and this was all the answer that Seth needed.

  “Filthy bastard.”

  “Seth, we have to settle something,” Laurel told him gently, having come to an immediate decision. “I’m Tony’s wife and can’t marry you.”

  “You’re going to divorce the varmint,” Seth persisted.

  “No. Tony and I are man and wife. There’s no hope of my falling in love with you and marrying you. I’m sorry.” Taking off the ring Seth had given to her, she handed it to him. She hadn’t forgiven Tony for Simone and didn’t know if she could accept his hostility toward Lavinia, but one thing she did know was that she couldn’t love any man but Tony, the contemptible bastard.

  Seth gazed at the ring and buried it in his fist. “You’re the one who’ll be sorry, Laurel. I guarantee that you will.”

  He stalked off, leaving her somewhat unnerved by the hatred she saw in his eyes. She knew she had done the right thing. Seth just had to realize that.

  Entering the barn, one of the hands helped her saddle her horse, and she rode to the open range in search of Tony, intent on giving him a piece of her mind.

  ~

  “Rustlers,” Jim Castille informed Tony. He leaned forward in his saddle, an arm placed protectively on his gunbelt out of habit rather than necessity. “I didn’t want to tell Miss Laurel that we’ve lost a few head here and there. I don’t think that is a woman’s concern.”

  Tony’s dark gaze surveyed the pastoral landscape where the cattle were grazing in contentment. His stallion pawed the earth, eager to be off, but Tony gentled him with a steady hand. “How long has this been going on?”

  “Hard to say, but I think a little under a month. Not enough head disappeared to notice at first, but since last month the count is down by two hundred. I doubt if that many just wandered off. I’d say they were led away.”

  “Have you posted lookouts?”

  “I did a week ago. Five men are posted on the south forty and five on the north forty. Others scout the rest of the range. I mentioned the problem to Seth Renquist, but he didn’t seem too worried about it. He’s been taking care of the north forty. Funny thing about it all, though. Most of the cattle that disappeared were from that section.”

  Tony shot Jim a knowing look, aware of Jim’s assumption. He wouldn’t put it past Seth to steal cattle from the Little L. He had learned from Simone that Seth had had a hand in causing Laurel to think that the child Simone carried had been his. He wouldn’t forget such duplicity. Tony cleared his throat.

  “We’ll just have to keep our eyes and ears open from now on.”

  The sound of thundering hoofs drew their attention as Laurel rode into view. Her long hair was unbound and whipped around her face and shoulders like black velvet. She reined in her horse, breathing hard, unaware that the top button of her blouse was undone, exposing part of her heaving bosom.

  “What are you doing out here?” Tony practically growled at her, feeling a stirring in his loins and frustrated by last night.

  Laurel rose up in the saddle, staring him down. “I’m in charge of the Little L. I don’t intend to sleep late and eat breakfast in bed because you deem I should. You’re not going to bully me, Tony Duvalier, no matter what we agreed last night.” She turned her flashing emerald gaze on Jim. “And you, you traitor. I thought we were friends and you respected my authority, but the moment a man appears, you change sides.

  “Hold on now, Miss Laurel—”

  Tony broke in. “I asked Jim to show me the spread. He wanted me to bring you along because he knew you’d fill me in on things, but I told him you were sleeping. I’m sorry, I won’t overstep my bounds again. You’ve taken pretty good care of the Little L. I’m proud of you, Laurel.”

  Tony’s quick flash of a smile took her aback. Tony Duvalier had actually apologized to her and commended her on the ranch. She could barely believe it. She d
idn’t dare think that he was finally coming to see her as a capable female rather than a bed partner.

  They rode on, saying nothing. At noon, the three of them watered their horses by a clear stream. When Jim was out of earshot, Tony sat beside Laurel, who was resting in a patch of goldenrod. For a brief instant, his hand touched hers, and then he began to fiddle with the brim on his hat.

  “I meant what I said about being proud of you. You’ve accomplished a great deal on this ranch. Jim told me about the improvements you’ve made, the way you’ve taken an interest in the stock. You’ve come a long way from the girl I married.” His black eyes were soft and filled with respect when he looked at her. “I didn’t make a mistake in coming here. I know that now.”

  A lump formed in her throat at this admission, which she realized must be quite hard for Tony to say. He was the kind of man who expected his woman to be in one place, a place where he could find her, not running a ranch. On Petit Coteau she had never bothered with anything but the house and hadn’t wanted any more responsibility because she knew Tony would handle things much better than she ever could. But here, she was her own person for the first time in her life. No one saw her as the Delaney daughter, or Tony’s wife, or the orphaned cousin. She was simply Laurel, simply herself.

  “Thank you, Tony. That means a great deal to me coming from you.”

  Tony plucked a goldenrod and handed it to her.

  “Truce?” he said.

  Laurel took it from him, her fingers touching his, but she didn’t pull away.

  “Truce.”

  ~

  Near sundown, Laurel, tired and dusty, with Tony and Jim beside her, rode into the yard. She had barely slipped from the saddle when Lavinia appeared, resembling a wild violet in a purple gown, edged with green lace on the scooped neckline and elbow-length sleeves. Her auburn hair was piled atop her hair in tiny curls. She sashayed toward them and clutched Tony by the sleeve when he dismounted.