Mother of God. Well, if he had ever had even the slightest chance with Turquoise, it was ruined now.
The lusty girl stood up, her blouse falling off one shoulder, showing a generous expanse of breast. “Ah, amigo, don’t mind her. Let’s go into the barn and I will pleasure you.”
His manhood was aching for relief and this passionate girl was so willing. It was tempting because Turquoise had already jumped to the conclusion that he was making love to the other girl. Yet he found himself saying, “No, senorita. I’m going back to the bunkhouse now.”
She clung to him, promising him all sorts of wild ecstasy, but he only shook his head. “No.”
“You are a fool!” she hissed and flipped her skirts, exposing long, slender legs. “I see what you want, but you’ll never get her, you hear? You aim too high for a poor va-quero.”
“I know.” He shook his head gently. “But she’s the only one I want.”
“Then you’re stupid because you’ll never be the one in her bed. You hear me? You can’t buy the silk sheets to lay her on or the fine perfume to spray on her tits.”
“Go home.” Rio shrugged and returned to the bunk-house. Everything the girl had just said was true and it was hopeless. He realized now he had come to the ranch, not for the handsome salary Trace Durango had offered, but to be close to the haughty, cold girl he hungered for.
He did not get any sleep that night, but as he twisted and turned, he decided that he should give up and go back to Austin as soon as possible.
Turquoise lay sleepless as well. In spite of his attentions to her, it appeared he was ready to take any randy girl who offered him her body. She decided she would never speak to him again and she stayed with her vow for several days. Yet late one afternoon, she found herself drawn back to the blacksmith’s shed. He labored over a glowing forge, naked to the waist, his virile body drenched with sweat, the crucifix gleaming in the light.
Now he looked up and frowned at this princess in white organza. It reminded him of the night she had stood in her window in sheer white silk. “I wasn’t expecting to see you again.”
She felt foolish, not even sure herself why she had come. “I—I wanted to make sure you had fixed the wheel on my buggy.”
“Done,” he snapped and returned to his work.
She watched his hard, dark muscles as he worked and the four-leaf clover tattoo on his right hand. “Will you be leaving soon?”
He hesitated. “Si. Probably tomorrow. I’ve got most of the horses shod and my own ranch needs me.”
“Oh.” She didn’t know what to say. She stood there awkwardly, thinking she ought to turn and go. “It—it’s been nice having you here. The children like you.”
“I like them, too.”
“Perhaps I can come to Austin sometime and bring the children.”
He shrugged as if he was indifferent and went on hammering a horseshoe.
“Rio”—she moved closer—“I didn’t mean to seem so snobbish.”
He looked up at her with those hot, dark eyes. “I understand, senorita. You want to better your place in life. I can’t fault you for that.”
“Yes.” She stood on one foot and then the other. “Well, I guess it’s good-bye then.”
He swore in Spanish. “Then say it and get out of my life!” His dark eyes flashed with anger. “Why do you keep coming near me, tantalizing me, making me want 32you—?”
He reached out suddenly, wrapped his muscular arm around her tiny waist, and dragged her to him. She stared up at him, feeling the heat of his virile body through her thin organza dress, torn about whether to protest. And then he kissed her.
She put her hands on his bare shoulders to push him away and then hesitated as the kiss deepened. His mouth seemed as hot as a branding iron. In spite of herself, she found herself clinging to him as he molded her against his tall frame, feeling the heat and the power of his maleness through her thin clothing as he embraced her. His mouth dominated hers, forcing her lips apart as he kissed her. She tasted his mouth, salty and warm and demanding, and let the kiss grow hotter, not pulling back as he buried one hand in her mane of black hair and murmured sweet things against her lips.
It was he who finally pulled away, breathing hard as he stepped back, apologizing profusely. “Senorita, I’m sorry. I did not mean disrespect….”
She was speechless for a long moment, not sure how she should react. She had been kissed without her permission by a poor vaquero and it was the first time she had ever been kissed on the mouth by a man—a passionate man who surely wanted more. His hot lips invading hers had sent shock waves of need through her body that she had not known could exist. It shook her to her very core and she didn’t like not being in control of her emotions.
“You—you are impudent indeed,” she snapped and, in a swirl of thin white organza and black curls, fled the shed.
He sighed, staring after her. If she told her guardian, Trace Durango might come after him with a pistol, and he couldn’t blame him. A woman’s innocence was the most valuable thing she owned, and yet, Rio had almost thrown her down on the dirt floor of the shed and taken her, so great was his need for only this one woman. Indeed it was time he returned to Austin.
That evening, he went to call on the master as Trace settled himself in a comfortable leather chair before the big stone fireplace. “Ah, Rio, come in. Would you like a ciga-rillo and a brandy?”
“No, sir. I have come to tell you I need to return to Austin tomorrow.”
“So soon?” Trace raised his eyebrows.
“Si.” Rio nodded. “I hear your own blacksmith is due back anytime and I have my small ranch to attend to.”
“I see.” Trace’s dark eyes seemed to burn into him as smoke encircled his head. “Your sudden leavin’ wouldn’t have anything to do with Turquoise, now would it?”
He squared his shoulders, ready to take his punishment like a man should. “So she told you.”
Trace looked baffled. “Told me what? She was quiet as a mouse all through dinner and then scurried away to her room. Is there something I should know?”
Rio rubbed his chin. “Well, sir, then I will tell you. This afternoon, she came to the shed where I was working.”
Trace grinned. “She does seem to end up wherever you are.”
“She is so beautiful. I—I forgot that she is a well-brought-up lady and I am just a vaquero.”
Now Trace frowned at him. “And?”
“She came so close, almost taunting me, and I forgot myself and kissed her.”
Trace leaned back in his chair and seemed to relax. “Nothin’ more?”
“I swear to you by the Virgin Mary that nothing else happened.”
Trace seemed to smile then and took a sip of his drink. “And did my arrogant ward slap you?”
Rio shook his head. “She just looked startled and then she ran.”
Trace chuckled. “Then she must have liked it.”
Rio shook his head. “I don’t think so. I apologized and she said I was impudent, whatever that means, and she ran away.”
Trace’s eyes seemed to drill into him. “And are you in love with Turquoise?”
Rio sighed and nodded. “Hopelessly, but she sets her sights higher. She wants money and social position.” He decided he would not get her into trouble with her guardian by mentioning Edwin Forester.
Trace seemed to consider a long moment. “My ward is a foolish, spoiled girl who does not know a good man when she sees one. Would you like my permission to court her?”
Rio gasped. “I couldn’t hope for that. I only own fifty acres and could not provide for her as she is accustomed to.”
Trace shrugged. “If you are willin’ to work hard, you could rise in the world.”
“She won’t have me.” Rio shook his head. “That’s why I’m leaving early. I can’t see her every day and know she will never be mine. It’s torture.”
Trace sighed and stood up, shaking hands with Rio. “I understand. I felt the same way
about my wife, but through sheer determination, I claimed her.”
Rio turned to go. “I’m afraid, Senor Durango, that is not the case with Turquoise.”
Trace clapped him on the shoulder. “Maybe when you are gone, she will realize that she cares for you, too. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, they say. I’d like her to forget all this foolishness about debutante balls and Austin society. Most of those gringos are foolish and dull.”
“I wish Turquoise felt that way.” Rio nodded to him and started out the door.
“I will send your earnin’s to you in the mornin’ before you catch your train. Maybe I might ask Turquoise to drive you.” He smiled and winked.
“I think she’d rather drive the devil to hell,” Rio mused aloud and then was gone.
The next morning, Turquoise knew she looked a fright at breakfast.
She felt Uncle Trace staring at her. He said, “You don’t look like you slept well. Is something botherin’ you?”
“Not at all.” She kept her gaze in the depths of her coffee cup. In truth, she had dreamed over and over that Rio Kelly was kissing her and kissing her. His mouth on her throat and then moving lower still as she begged him to take her. She had awakened in a cold sweat with her bed covers tangled from her twisting and turning all night.
“Oh, Rio Kelly is leavin’ this mornin’,” Uncle Trace said and cut his breakfast steak.
“Who?”
“You know, the visitin’ farrier.”
“Oh, him.” She shrugged indifferently and returned to her Mexican omelet, but it tasted like cotton in her mouth.
“I thought you might want to drive him to the train.”
She snorted and sipped her coffee. “I have a school to teach. Let one of the hands do it.”
“Today is Saturday,” her uncle reminded her as he drank his coffee, “and I thought you might have errands to run in the village.”
“I don’t think so.” She kept her voice cold. “Anyway, I don’t care for the man. He’s rude and arrogant.”
“Oh? He seemed very polite to me.”
“You just don’t know him well—”And then she stopped. She should tell Uncle Trace about the kiss in the shed, but her guardian might take a horse whip to the man. That was all Rio Kelly deserved, but somehow, the kiss was very personal and she did not want to share the event with anyone. Besides, she did not really want to get Rio in trouble. Actually, now that she thought of it, she was a bit flattered that the man had wanted her so badly, he had lost control. Now if she could just get that kind of reaction from Edwin Forester.
“All right then,” Uncle Trace shrugged and stood up. “I’ll get one of the hands to drive him—”
“On second thought”—she hadn’t even realized she was going to say it—“I need thread and things from the village. I guess it won’t be too much trouble to drop that farrier off at the train station.”
“Good. I’ll go pay him and see if he’s ready to leave.” Trace left the dining room.
“Uncle Trace, I’ve changed my mind—” She got up and hurried after him, but he was already gone, striding across the big paved courtyard toward the bunkhouse. Oh, hell. She gritted her teeth. Why had she said she would drive him? She did need a few things from the village store, but not badly enough to spend time with that arrogant cowboy. Suppose he tried to kiss her again. She felt her anger rise at his impudence and then remembered the kiss. No wonder girls giggled and talked about being kissed. It had been a heart-pounding, almost indescribable thrill.
In a few minutes, Uncle Trace came back in. “I told Rio you’d drive him. He didn’t seem pleased.”
“He didn’t?” She bristled. “Well, we do seem to clash with each other.”
“Like flint and steel?” Uncle Trace suggested as he walked away.
“More like a dog and a cat!” she yelled after him, but he didn’t turn around. Now what?
She didn’t relish an awkward ten-mile buggy ride with a man who didn’t want her to drive him any more than she wanted to ride next to him, their bodies almost touching.
She thought about it a long moment, then smiled. She would invite a bunch of the children to go along for the ride. She hurried away to the workers’ little houses.
When Rio came out of the bunkhouse, the wagon was waiting. Turquoise sat on the seat, dressed in a leather riding skirt and boots, plus a western hat to shield her fair skin from the sun. He smiled in spite of himself. “Buenos dias, Senorita Turquoise.” It would be torture, but sweet torture.
Then five little brown faces popped up out of the back of the wagon. “Buenos dias, Senor Rio.”
He must have looked surprised, because the girl smiled in a mocking way. “I hope you don’t mind. The ninos and ninas wanted to go along for the ride.”
“Of course not.” He shook his head and climbed up on the seat beside her. He loved children, but he wasn’t sure whether he was happy to have them along. It would keep anything questionable from happening in case he weakened and wanted to kiss her again. One look at her stern face told him that was why she had brought the children along.
He reached for the reins.
She shook her head and clucked to the team, starting off with a jingle of harness. “I’m driving.”
“It is generally the man who drives,” he said.
“Not in this case.” She put her pert little nose in the air and pulled out on the dirt road leading to the village.
He didn’t know whether to admire her for her obstinacy or turn her over his knee and then take the reins away from her.
“I feel foolish, having a woman drive me,” he muttered.
“I’ve been raised on a ranch. I drive well.” She laughed and did not give up the reins.
In the back of the wagon, the children were singing a folk tune, not well, but loudly.
It was going to be a long, long trip, he thought and decided he could do nothing but let her drive. Their bodies were almost touching and he seemed to feel the electricity from her warm thigh against his and again, he remembered the kiss. That made his manhood swell and he twisted in his seat, uncomfortable.
“My guardian said you didn’t want me to drive you to the train.”
“I didn’t think you’d want to.”
“I don’t,” she snapped, “but I needed to go to the village on errands, so he demanded I go.”
“Hmm.” He wished the ride were over. He had no chance with this girl and it was torture to sit on this wagon seat, their thighs almost touching. He could smell the faint scent of forget-me-nots on her skin and her hair shone black as ink, pulled back under her western hat. He must break this spell she held over him. When he got back to Austin, the first thing he must do is go to his favorite saloon and make love to one of their voluptuous whores. Or maybe two or three, he thought, changing positions on the seat again. It might take three girls to end this need in him.
They did not speak the rest of the trip as the wagon bumped along. The children sang and laughed in the back, oblivious to the tension on the front seat.
Turquoise had never felt so uncomfortable in her whole life. The ride had seemed the length of Texas and she was angry with her uncle for putting her in this awkward position, then remembered she had volunteered on impulse. She’d been too aware the whole ride of Rio’s closeness, of the way his thigh touched hers when the wagon hit a rough spot in the old road.
They started down the only street in the small village. She heard the train coming in the distance, its whistle echoing across the hilly terrain.
“The train! The train!” The children jumped up and down with excitement.
Rio looked back over his shoulder and grinned. “Have you little ones never ridden a train before?”
“No, senor,” came a chorus of voices.
He looked into Turquoise’s pale eyes. “Perhaps the senorita will bring you to Austin someday to see the sights.”
“Perhaps I will,” she said and she did not smile and looked away as she reined up before
the station hitching post.
The sound of the train chugged closer and the children chortled with excitement. Rio climbed down, then reached up and lifted each little one from the wagon. “Now don’t get on the tracks.”
He turned and looked up at Turquoise. “You will get down, senorita?”
“Why not?” she said and started to step to the ground, but he reached and put his strong hands on her waist and helped her down to the road.
For a moment, he looked down into her face, still holding on to her. He might kiss her, she thought, which would be disgraceful in public. It horrified her to think she wanted him to. Don’t be a fool, she scolded herself as she pulled away from him. One man’s kisses must be like another’s and Edwin Forester was the man she intended to hold and kiss her.
“Don’t forget your bags,” she reminded him and strode across the boards of the platform to where the children were gathered, waiting for the train to chug into the station.
She turned to watch him grab his bags out of the back of the wagon and stride over to the children. “Hasta la vista, kids.” He grinned. “Maybe I will see you again.”
“We’ll miss you, senor.” They all chortled, gathering around for a last hug.
“I hope you’ll miss me, too.” He turned to Turquoise.
“Not likely.” She kept her expression and her voice cold. She must not get involved with this man. He could offer her nothing, and yet … no, she reminded herself again, she must not, could not love this vaquero.
The train pulled into the station with a grinding of wheels, the smell of smoke, and a shower of coal dust.
Rio held out his hand to her. “Vaya con Dios, senorita.” Go with God.
She did not take his hand. “Good-bye, senor. Have a safe trip home.”
“If you’re ever in Austin—”
She shook her head before he could continue. She did not want this to go any further and yet … she reminded herself again that she had higher ambitions than a small ranch and a bare existence.
“All aboard!” the conductor yelled. Rio stepped aboard as the porter grabbed his bags.
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