Midnight Flame

by Lynette Vinet

  “Rosita has supper ready. I was wondering when you were coming back. I’ve been alone all day,” she said, pouting, and clung tighter to Tony.

  “You could have joined us on the range.” Laurel moved briskly away, a feeling of jealousy eating away at her. Lavinia looked so beautiful while, once again, her own appearance left much to be desired. And what made matters worse was that Tony smiled familiarly at Lavinia and didn’t remove her grasping hand from his arm.

  “I didn’t feel like it today. I took a long, warm bath in some wonderful violet bath salts from Paris. Do I smell sweet to you, Tony?” Lavinia leaned in closer to him, enabling him to catch a whiff of her scent.

  “You smell divine enough to drive a man mad.”

  Lavinia giggled. Her gaze slid to Jim, who was watching from his horse, seemingly nonplussed by the encounter taking place below him.

  Jim called to Laurel. “I’ll see you in the morning, Miss Laurel.”

  “Would you like to stay for supper with us?” Laurel invited him.

  “No, ma’am. I think I might be sick from all these fancy smells mingling in the air.” He rode toward the bunkhouse, not missing the nasty scowl Lavinia threw his way.

  “Where’s Seth? I haven’t see him all day,” Tony asked Lavinia.

  “He took off this morning for San Antonio. He said he didn’t know when he’d be home. Seems that the sleeping arrangements weren’t to his liking.” Lavinia’s voice dripped venom. “Some people around here can’t seem to make up their minds about which bed they fancy to sleep in.”

  Laurel felt herself coloring and marched into the house before she said something just as ugly to Lavinia. When she reached her and Tony’s room, she discovered that all her clothes had been hung neatly in the large wardrobe and that her toilet articles were lined up in orderly fashion on the bureau. The bathtub already stood waiting in the center of the room, filled with warm water, and Gincie had laid out one of her best gowns on the bed.

  The dress, a light-rose-and-white-striped silk with a revealing décolletage and a rose pinned to the front, was much too fussy for a simple evening meal. At first Laurel was going to exchange it for a plainer looking gown. She wondered why Gincie had not laid out one of her calico gowns, but she remembered one of their earlier conversations about her clothes. Lately Lavinia’s vibrant beauty was much too noticeable, and Laurel had begun to feel homely in comparison. Now that Tony seemed unable to tear his eyes from Lavinia and with Lavinia hanging onto him like a leech, she felt downright dowdy. Laurel took one last lingering look at the gown and began to undress. It was about time that Lavinia got a dose of her own medicine.

  After a bath scented with rose water, Laurel fastened her long hair away from her face with ivory combs. Her dark tresses hung simply down her back and curled wispily at her waist. When she was dressed she waited on the open balcony, watching the scene below her in the parlor, until Tony felt her gaze upon him and glanced up.

  “King me!” Lavinia cried out in delight as she made a move on the checkerboard. Her delight quickly faded when she realized that Tony was oblivious of her and the game. His eyes were on Laurel.

  Laurel moved slowly down the stairs. The light from the oil lamps on tables on both sides of the sofa cast a soft peach glow across her bare shoulders and the swelling curves of her breasts. Her eyes were a vivid shade of green and hadn’t yet left Tony’s face as she took a seat in a chair across from him. A small smile played about her lips.

  “Who’s winning?” she asked, not really interested in the game but in the man whose face was taut with desire.

  “I am!” Lavinia chimed in. “I always win!”

  “Do you really? How nice, Lavinia.” Laurel sounded unconcerned, almost patronizing. Lavinia seethed, seeing that Tony had lost all interest in the game. “Tony, I have a king,” she said through clenched teeth.

  “What? Oh, sorry.” Tony topped Lavinia’s checker with his own. “Game’s over. I lose.”

  The room was charged with an electric current that ran directly from Tony to Laurel. They gazed into each other’s eyes, unaware of Lavinia who fidgeted in her chair, then threw the checkerboard and checkers into a wooden case, practically spilling the round pieces on the floor.

  Laurel felt her body come alive and glow. She hated to admit to herself that she was anticipating the moment she and Tony would go upstairs. Just thinking about tonight in their bed set her heart to racing. Tony wanted her. His eyes held a dark passion that she had come to know well. His lips enticed her to touch them, and she believed she would have, no matter that Lavinia glared at her from across the room, but the sound of booted feet striding through the front door prevented her.

  Jim entered the room, a look of apology on his face. “Didn’t mean to interrupt your evening, folks, but, Tony, there’s a party for Tom Evans at the hands’ bunkhouse. He’s getting married day after tomorrow, and the boys are giving him a celebration. We thought you might like to come.”

  “That’s kind of you,” Tony said, removing his eyes from Laurel, “but I might be busy later.”

  “Go, Tony,” Laurel urged, coming back to her senses momentarily. “This will be a good chance to meet all the hands.”

  “Do you mind? I could be a little late.”

  His eyes and voice held a promise in them that Laurel couldn’t refuse. “That’s fine.”

  “You’ll wait up for me?”

  Laurel nodded. Moments after Tony had left with Jim, Lavinia plopped herself down on the sofa. “You know that the men are going to get so rip-roaring drunk that when Tony does come back, he’ll be quite worthless to you.”

  “Goodness, Lavinia! Let it never be said that you have a way of being tactful.”

  Lavinia shrugged and leaned her head against the cushions. “I always say what I think because it prevents complications later.”

  “Then be honest now, pray, and tell me what mischievous thought those blue eyes are hiding.”

  Tilting her head, Lavinia placed a thin finger on her lips. “I’d say it is more like lascivious thoughts, Cousin Laurel, concerning your husband. I don’t know why you’re sleeping in his bed again, seeing that you claimed to hate him so much until he showed up again. Now you can’t take your eyes off him, but don’t think that, because you’re acting the part of his wife, he’s safe from predatory females.”

  “Of which you’re one,” Laurel interjected.

  “Certainly.”

  “Why do you want my husband?”

  “That’s obvious. Tony is a handsome and virile man.”

  “And quite rich,” Laurel said. “You shouldn’t forget that.”

  Lavinia had the grace to flush as that remark sank in. Rising from the sofa, she made a big to-do over arranging some colorful wildflowers in a vase by the window. “You would say that. You’re cruel to even think it.”

  “I’m being honest with you, but it’s time you were honest with yourself. Tony holds a large attraction for you because he’s wealthy, and you want to latch onto him as a means of keeping the Little L. But he won’t marry you. He doesn’t love you and you know that. And what’s more, you know you don’t love him.”

  “How do you know that, Miss Know-It-All?”

  “Let’s say that I have a woman’s intuition. I know that Jim Castille is the man you love and that he loves you.”

  “I hate Jim Castille!”

  “Look into your heart,” Laurel told her softly. “You’ll find the truth there.”

  Laurel got up and made a move to touch Lavinia, but Lavinia swiped at her. “I wish you’d never come here!” she cried and ran from the room with tears in her blue eyes.

  Tears stung Laurel’s eyes as well. She felt Lavinia’s pain but could do nothing to help her. Somehow, some way, Lavinia had to face up to herself. Suddenly very tired, Laurel went upstairs and had Rosita bring her supper to her room. Then she undressed and slipped nude between the sheets to wait for Tony’s return.

  ~

  Lavinia kicked asi
de her gown, not caring that it landed in a heap beside the foot of her bed. She finished buttoning the last button on the front of her blue-and-white-checkered blouse and impatiently tucked the shirttail into her denim pants. After sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling on her boots, she pulled the pins from her hair and allowed the red strands to hang in wild abandon down her back. Before she left her room, she surveyed her reflection in the mirror and smirked with satisfaction.

  No more acting the lady for her, she decided. She had done more than her share of acting in New Orleans to entice Auguste St. Julian, but she would be damned if she wasted her time on Tony Duvalier, who clearly wasn’t interested in her. She wouldn’t dwell on the man for one more minute. Winning him over with ladylike etiquette and lowered lashes accomplished her nothing. He loved Laurel, and he could have her. Any plan of wooing him away from Laurel and of claiming the Little L for herself by enticing him into marrying her were now buried. But she was vexed and angry that Tony didn’t want her. She felt her charms were slipping, and slipping badly.

  She sneaked out of her room and took the backstairs to the yard. A full moon cast silvery fingers across the landscape as she headed toward the corral. From the hands’ bunkhouse a distance away, she heard the sound of male voices, laughing and raised in rowdy song, drift through the quiet night. No one seemed to be outside, and Lavinia was glad.

  Buck had warned her to stay away from the white stallion in the corral, but Lavinia felt ornery enough not to heed anyone’s orders. So far, no one had been able to tame the horse because the horse reared up and threw his rider every time.

  “I’m going to tame you,” Lavinia whispered to the horse as she stopped by the corral gate. “For once I’m going to succeed where others failed. We’re going to be good friends, boy.”

  Cautiously, Lavinia opened the gate and stepped inside. The stallion appeared oblivious to her, but Lavinia knew he sensed her intentions. His ears perked up, and the muscles in his flanks stiffened. She spoke in a low, soothing voice as she inched closer to him. By the time she lifted herself onto his back, she thought he had come to trust her.

  “There, boy, this isn’t so bad. You’ll get used to me in time.” She patted his soft mane, feeling a thrill of triumph surge through her. She had won! The stallion was hers!

  “Lavinia! Get off that horse!”

  Jim Castille’s voice cut through the night. Lavinia turned in the direction of the sound at the same moment the horse reared up. One second she was on his back, the next she was on the ground beneath the powerful hoofs. A sudden, searing pain shot through her right shoulder, and she knew she would be trampled to death, but then she felt strong arms pulling her away from the animal. In a haze of pain, she watched Jim quiet the horse.

  Rising to her feet, she clutched her aching shoulder. Jim escorted her outside the gate and shut it with a thud.

  He turned to her, his brown eyes filled with fury. “Don’t you know you could have been killed? That horse wouldn’t let a man ride him. What makes you think you could tame him?”

  “Damn you to hell, Jim Castille! I mounted him. The animal accepted me, but you had to scream at me and you spooked him. He was fine until you yelled your fool head off.”

  “Listen to me, you silly fool, you were inches away from being trampled. If I hadn’t come along when I did, you would have been hurt really badly, if not killed. You’d have been thrown whether I was there or not. What in blazes are you doing out here at this time of night?” He didn’t wait for her answer. In aggravation he grabbed her arm, not prepared for Lavinia’s yowl of pain.

  Her face grew white, and her eyes looked like huge blue circles. For an instant her knees buckled beneath her. Jim caught her and scooped her up into his arms.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?”

  “You didn’t—give me—a chance,” she gasped out. “You’ve got a big mouth.”

  “Kick me next time,” he whispered next to her ear and carried her to his bunkhouse.

  “Believe me, I will,” she said with conviction.

  Barely a minute later, Jim gently set Lavinia on his bunk. He lighted the lamp and surveyed her. She looked like a little girl with her hair all a tumble. A wave of affection for Lavinia swept through him unbidden, but Jim repressed it. She had hurt him too much.

  “Let me take a look at your arm,” he said brusquely.

  “I don’t need you to look after me. I don’t like it here anyway. I’m going back to the house.” She started to get up, but sank down on the bunk as the pain shot through her and made her dizzy.

  “Lie down, Lavinia.” Jim plumped up the pillow and helped her lie down. “Your arm might be broken. Can I take a look at it?” His voice was suddenly gentle, and Lavinia nodded. “You’ll have to take off your blouse.”

  Lavinia’s eyes bored into Jim’s. “Could you please undo the buttons? I can’t…”

  He nodded in an impersonal way, but Lavinia noticed his hand trembled when the buttons began to give. In the lamplight he swallowed hard as his fingers grazed the swell of her breasts, the soft flesh of her stomach. When the last button was undone, Lavinia sat up for Jim to help her remove the right sleeve. Then she attempted to pull the blouse across her full right breast as a sort of shield.

  Jim shook his head in amusement. “I’ve seen more of you than that in the past. No need to hide from me. You don’t have to play the modest lady with me.”

  Lavinia flushed. “You should know all about ladies,” she snapped. “You trail after Laurel like a little lost puppy with its tongue hanging out. And what makes you think I want to be a lady anyway? Or that I care what you think about me? I don’t give a damn for your opinion. If your preference is for a lady, then you’d better seduce Laurel fast, because I think Tony may have already beat you to it.”

  She would have said more, but a throbbing ache caused her to be silent when Jim bent down and examined her arm and then made her move it. “No bones broken,” he said. “Just a slight sprain. I think you’ll live.”

  “No thanks to you!”

  “You can be a shrew.”

  “And you can be a bastard.” Lavinia tried to pull her blouse on, but she had trouble getting her arm into the sleeve and was forced to accept Jim’s help. His hands felt warm, and an uncomfortable heat gathered in her abdomen and spread to her lower body, causing her to practically spring from the bunk. She knew that melting sensation well. She had felt it many years ago when she and Jim had made love. During the intervening years, Lavinia had had quite a few men, but none caused her to feel the way Jim could with only a touch. She must get away from here, she told herself. Otherwise, she would be unable to resist Jim, and too much had happened between them for her to ever let him love her again.

  “You’re in the devil’s own rush to get out of here. What’s the matter, Lavinia? My humble place isn’t good enough for you?”

  She didn’t stop as she made her way to the door. “You’re not good enough for me anymore. Go find Laurel and bring her here. Most men want ladies, and you’re no different. I’m tired of being a lady, acting like some priss with lace on her drawers. Being a lady has gotten me nowhere.”

  Lavinia’s hand clasped the doorknob when Jim’s came down gently upon hers and stilled her.

  Turning her face to his, he showed in his expression all the passion she felt. “What makes you think I want a lady, Lavinia? Maybe you’re all the woman I’ve ever wanted.”

  The throbbing pulse at the base of her throat matched the irregular beat of her heart. She gasped when a second later Jim enfolded her in his arms. Guttural sounds of pleasure escaped unwillingly from her when he picked her up, carried her to the bunk, and placed her gingerly on the spot she had just left.

  He joined her, stretching his long body beside hers, careful not to disturb her arm. His hand slid beneath her blouse and stroked the soft curve of her waist and moved upward to find the swollen tips of her breasts. His touch felt like fire upon her skin, and she shivered with th
e deep, burning ache of wanting him again and knowing that she wasn’t going to fight him.

  “Don’t hurt me, Jim,” she breathed. “I couldn’t bear for you to hurt me again.”

  “I didn’t hurt you years ago, and I never will. You believed a lie about me, something Seth set up to turn you and your father away from me. None of you let me explain anything, but I thought you’d listen to me.” He stroked her cheek with gentle fingers. “I sneaked back to the ranch to see you, believing that you didn’t think I’d stolen the money from your father’s desk. But when I sneaked in and asked Rosita if I could see you, she said you weren’t here, that you’d gone to Louisiana with your father and would probably be gone a long time. So, I left. You did think I stole the money, didn’t you?”

  “Yes. But you didn’t. I know that now.” A strangled sob spilled forth. “If only I had trusted you, believed in you, everything would have been so different. I’ve done some terrible things since I left here with Papa … the men I’ve known—”

  His lips silenced hers. “I don’t want to hear any more. What’s past is done. I haven’t led a spotless life either. I’ve made a lot of mistakes. But one thing I know and have always known, though I didn’t want to admit it. I love you, Lavinia, and I always will. No woman has ever had my heart and my love but you.”

  “Me … too.” She choked on her words and would have said more, but at that moment Jim’s lips descended once more against hers, and she was lost in a spiraling labyrinth of desire. They removed their clothes and lay in each other’s arms, delighting in the feel and scent of one another. The years melted away with each kiss, each heated caress until both Jim and Lavinia blended into the light at the end of a velvet tunnel and found the rapture that had eluded them since the day they parted.

  They lay spent in each other’s arms, listening to their twin heartbeats, thrumming in time to each other. Lavinia’s auburn hair, spilling across Jim’s chest like a red and gold fan, caught the lamplight. She lifted her face up to his and smiled.