“It’s perfect,” Amanda said happily. “When Luke sees this, he’ll forget all about being angry with me.”
“But do you really think he’ll want to see his wife wearing this, at the party in front of everyone?” Aileen asked doubtfully. “He seems on the conservative side.”
“He won’t believe his eyes,” Amanda sighed. “I’ve given it a lot of thought, and done my research.” She indicated a thick pad of scrawled notes. “Every time I’ve gone to a new town or a saloon, I’ve observed the way men behave in the presence of a woman dressed like this. Men are completely visual, you know. They are aroused by what they see, unlike women who are aroused in more complex ways. Therefore, if I dress the same way and act the same way, I’ll seduce him into coming back!”
She looked as pleased as a child who had handed in a brilliant science project. She tried to turn, and nearly fell as the dress wrapped its silken length around her legs. Her feet, bound in little gold slippers, tripped on the polished floor. Aileen held her breath as Amanda’s full breasts nearly spilled out and her plume wobbled precariously. The dubious expression on Aileen’s face increased, especially when Amanda hiked up the gown and maintained her balance with the help of a chair.
“I don’t know.” Aileen tried another approach. “I thought you didn’t approve of dressing up in corsets and such.”
“I still don’t believe in that,” Amanda said confidently. “But I don’t have any choice right now. I’ve got to get his attention and time is running out.” She picked up a gold-beaded bag that matched her slippers, and stopped only long enough to smear bright red lipstick on her full little mouth with an obviously unpracticed hand. “Let’s go. I can’t wait to see his face.”
Aileen nodded. It was true—when she worked in a saloon, the men went wild for this stuff. But somehow, Amanda would never pass for a saloon girl, Aileen thought. She followed her out the door, cringing as the author tripped over the hemline of her tight gown.
The ballroom was filled with elegantly dressed men and beautifully gowned women. They moved beneath the crystal chandeliers like animated Christmas ornaments in vivid hues of crimson, emerald, and sapphire. Mrs. Mitchell had won the argument about the colors, and the entire ballroom was bedecked with festive green and red satin ribbons and streamers. Violinists quietly warmed up in the corner, while waiters carried trays of champagne, handing tulip-shaped glasses of the golden liquid to anyone who cared to drink.
Amanda entered the room with Jake and Aileen, keeping her coat on and bracing herself for a wave of cold animosity. To her surprise, Jed Brannigan strode up, his face beaming.
“Amanda Parker! So glad you could come. I was just asking Elvira about you the other day.” His expression changed to puzzlement as he saw her made-up face, but he resumed his smile.
Amanda glanced at Aileen, but the Irish woman shrugged. “I thought you were all angry with me,” Amanda said.
“Oh, maybe a little at first.” Jed chuckled, then was joined by several of the other townspeople. He lifted glasses of champagne from the tray and handed them to Aileen and Jake, while Amanda declined. “But we’ve gotten used to it. In fact, your little book seems to be spelling quite a profit for Waco. Newcomers have been flooding in during the last few weeks, increasing business across the board, and it can only get better. Everyone’s talking about how you eluded Sam Haskwell, and how he finally got his. The woman got off, you know. Yes, it looks like you’ve put Waco on the map.”
Amanda stared in disbelief, but Simon Ledden extended his hand and pumped hers heartily. Frank Mitchell nodded to her. Mrs. Meade detached herself from a crowd of people and rushed to join them.
“There you are, Amanda. You must come and meet everyone. Several new ladies want to join the Woman’s Committee, and they’ve heard all about you. I told them about the corset burning, and they are captivated. Eastern, you know.” Mrs. Meade puffed with an air of knowledge and dragged Amanda off toward the women.
Amanda held onto the collar of her coat, keeping it firmly closed, not wanting to reveal the dress until she saw Luke. Everywhere she looked she saw smiling faces. People that wouldn’t walk the same side of the street as her a week ago were now coming up and shaking her hand as if she were a long-lost friend. It was all like a dream, one that took way too long in coming.
She was standing with several of the cowhands when she saw him. Her water glass was paused halfway to her lips and she froze when she observed him handing the servant his overcoat. He looked breathtakingly handsome, his white shirt like the purest snow against the raven black of his coat. His hair glistened in the gaslight, shining blue-black, while his muscular body moved with an animal-like grace that was apparent in spite of his dress clothes. He turned to someone behind him, and Amanda’s stomach lurched as she saw a woman enter, laugh lightly at something he said, and then obligingly take his arm.
He wasn’t alone. He’d brought someone with him. Her heart pounding in her ear, Amanda felt a wash of overwhelming, sickening jealousy. She recognized the woman as the daughter of the dressmaker, Sally Lacey, a gorgeous blond who cared very little about science, politics, or penny dreadfuls. Sally was dressed in a gorgeous turquoise gown, and she could dance beautifully, flirt outrageously, and sing sweetly. In short, she was everything Amanda was not.
“Are you all right, senora?” one of the vaqueros questioned and Amanda nodded quickly, feeling the color drain from her face.
“Yes, fine. Rafael, would you mind taking my coat?” She turned a brilliant smile on him and the cowhand nodded eagerly, accepting the woolen wrap. When he saw what lay beneath it, he gave a loud wolf whistle.
“Muy bonita, senora! What a dress! Miguel and Tomas, did you see this?”
The cowhands began cheering and clapping, while Amanda smiled, gratified. It was working. It really was easy, like addition, she thought. All one had to do was know how to calculate, and one could figure out just about anything with men.
Smiling, she accepted a finger sandwich, then giggled outrageously at a joke the cowboys made. She remembered everything she’d ever written about saloon girls and showgirls, and she practised it shamelessly. It was ridiculous, but all she had to do was look wide-eyed and laugh at everything they said, and she was a success.
“Would you like some punch, senora?” Raphael offered.
Amanda glanced across the room and saw Luke talking with the mayor and several other men, with Sally draped on his arm. Jealousy ripped through her, but she managed to decline politely. “No, I’ll get it if you don’t mind.” She wobbled across the room, fighting her dress, the corset, and the slippers.
Being a seductress wasn’t as easy as she thought. Amanda noticed the sudden silence of the townsmen around her, the inappropriate stares, and the appraising looks they gave her, as if she was a horse at auction. Several grinned in frank invitation, their eyes dropping to her bustline that seemed to hold up the tiny slip of red satin as if by magic. In spite of the outlandish outfit, she looked beautiful, and every man let her know it with his eyes.
The women were less kind. They stared in disbelief as the prim and talented authoress paraded before them in garb a showgirl would blush to wear, and they whispered among themselves. The dress swished obligingly, revealing Amanda’s black-stockinged leg, and Elvira dashed down a glass of champagne.
“Dear God, what is she up to now?”
Frank Mitchell heard the whispers, then nudged Luke, who was standing beside him.
“I think you’d better see to your wife.”
Luke turned quickly, then stared in shock as Amanda accepted a glass of punch from the waiter, then giggled ridiculously as Simon Ledden fought to hand it to her first. Cowboys vied for her attention, each one claiming the first dance, while the townsmen, recovering from their surprise, tried to free themselves of their more proper guests to stand by her side. The feather slipped from her head as she laughed at a joke she couldn’t possibly understand, and when she reached up to adjust it, a dozen male eyes w
ent to her breasts.
“Excuse me.” Luke handed his glass to Sally Lacey without explanation. The pretty blonde pouted as he made his way through the crowd, his expression murderous. The townspeople parted like the Red Sea as Luke strode quickly across the room.
He could hear her laughter long before he got to her, and saw her bat her eyes in a blatant imitation of every whore she’d ever seen. Growing more furious with each step, Luke blushed for her as she slapped a cowboy lightly with her handkerchief, then giggled once more He could hear her talking as she approached, and if he didn’t know it was Amanda, he’d never have believed it.
“Goodness, you all flatter me. Why, this little old dress is just something I picked up!” Black-rimmed eyes fluttered. “But you can explain it all to me, I’m sure you’re so much smarter!”
Luke could have died at that. He heard the cowboys’ laughter, and he burned furiously. One by one he plucked the vaqueros away from her, then strode to the center of the men. When he did, his anger increased two hundred percent.
The dress was worse than he thought. Close, he could see every part of her body clearly outlined by the accomodating red material. Her breasts jutted forth and he longed to cup them. Her waist was so small that his hands could easily fit around it. Her belly, a bit rounder than he remembered, was still slender and led enticingly down to a wash of softly draped satin. The smile died on her red-rouged cheeks when she saw his expression, and she gasped as his hand closed tightly over hers.
“You’ll have to excuse my wife. She hasn’t been herself lately and is suddenly quite ill.”
The men protested, and Amanda struggled. Something was wrong. She’d done all this for him, dressed this way to seduce him, and now he was looking at her as if he hated her. Desperately, she tried to stop him.
“But I don’t feel ill at all! Why, I’m having the best time! These sweet cowboys are telling me all about roping a steer, and I don’t know the first thing about that!”
“Yeah, let her alone,” one of the cowboys interrupted. “If the lady wants to stay, she stays.”
“Amanda,” Luke said through gritted teeth, and she knew she was in deep trouble. “Come with me.”
“I don’t think she wants to,” another cowboy stated. “So why don’t you just mosey on back to that dame you’re with?”
Without hesitation, Luke’s fist came up and cracked the man hard across his face. The cowboy slumped to the floor, clutching his nose, blood trickling from the punch. His companion started for Luke, but the sight of his gunbelt stopped him, especially when Luke shoved back his jacket as if to draw.
No one else openly challenged him. Amanda struggled, but Luke dragged her effortlessly across the ballroom to the lobby. He produced a folded bill and handed it to the bellboy.
“Get her carriage. Now.”
“Luke, please. Let me explain.” Amanda tried to penetrate his wall of anger, but when he turned to her, his eyes blazing, she withered beneath that condemning stare.
“Why? Haven’t you had enough, making a fool of both yourself and me? Why do you keep doing this?” Luke blazed.
Amanda’s eyes filled, and she suddenly knew he was right. Those men weren’t laughing with her, they had been laughing at her. She had thought she was being seductive and exotic, and all she had been was ridiculous. Her pride burned, but worse, it hadn’t even accomplished what she’d intended.
Tears streamed down her face, making little rivers of black kohl. The bellboy would return any minute. She had to make Luke understand, and yet, as he stood beside her, as implacable as granite, she had no idea of how to start.
“Luke, please,” she whispered brokenly. “You once said you loved me. Don’t you understand why I did this?”
“All I know is that for some reason, you are trying to drive me insane.” But he softened at the stricken look on her face, some of the anger leaving him. “All right, Amanda. You have about five minutes before he gets here with the coach. Make it good.”
Five minutes. Amanda sighed. She could do it in one. Suddenly sure of herself, she lifted her make-up streaked face to his. “I love you.”
Luke looked as if she’d struck him. A sneer played over his lips as he scanned her up and down, noting the dress, mocking her with his eyes. But doubt followed, then the briefest flash of longing. It was that Amanda appealed to, and she struggled to find the right words.
“Why else would I have done this? I only thought I could…seduce you into wanting me.”
He stared at her, seeing the puzzle pieces fall into place. With another woman, he would never have bought it, but this was Amanda. And to Amanda’s logical mind, to dress like a harlot, flirt, and act like a simpering fool, was obviously the fastest way to a man’s groin.
He couldn’t help it. Though he wanted desperately to be angry, the fury faded, only to be replaced by a swelling, unstoppable laughter. Amanda stamped her foot indignantly as he threw back his head and roared, his chuckle deep and masculine.
“What is so funny?” she demanded, mortified.
“Nothing.” He forced himself to stop, but every time he looked at the dress, at the ostrich feather bobbing on her head, at the make-up that was now like a smeared water-color, he resumed laughing, until finally he regained control. She started to walk away, hurt more than ever, but he stopped her, bringing her back into his embrace. Luke cupped her chin, making her look up at him. His blue eyes were filled with laughter, and something tender, akin to understanding.
“Amanda, all I can say is, if you’re going to put half the effort into winning me back as you did trying to get rid of me, I’m surrendering now.” He turned to the bellboy.
“Take her to the carriage and wait for me. I have some explaining to do to another young lady.” Wrapping his jacket around Amanda, he ignored her indignant expression, then continued more seriously. “Amanda Edison, you are definitely an original.”
His mouth sought hers, and she returned his kiss, stepping up on the tips of her gold slippers to wrap her arms around him. Embarrassment, outrage, and fear all dissipated, followed by a warm, wonderful glow.
She’d won, although her methods might be questionable. And no one could have been happier.
The sun rose up high above Waco, lending a soft rosy blush to the grasslands and bathing the ranch in a shimmery gold. Amanda awoke in Luke’s bedroom, her own blush matching the dawn as she found him seated across from her in a chair with a cup of coffee at his arm, watching her with a suppressed amusement.
“You going to sleep all day? You saloon girls don’t have much stamina, do you?”
Amanda covered her head with the sheets, then peeped out a moment later when she heard him chuckling. “I was awful, wasn’t I?” she asked.
“Yes.” Luke couldn’t deny that. “But I have to admit, that’s part of your charm.”
“Luke, I promise I’ll make you happy. I won’t write again, if that’s what you want, and I won’t quote dead philopsophers—”
“Amanda.” He sat next to her, bringing her an offering of fresh hot coffee, and put one finger to her lips. “Don’t you realize that I love everything about you? I knew you were different from the first. And I wouldn’t dream of asking you not to work. Just give me fair warning next time, when you decide to publicize my failures as a lover.”
“That wasn’t your failure!” Amanda sat up, astonished. “It was mine! I just didn’t know—”
“Let’s not argue the point.” Luke grinned. “And don’t concern yourself. I have more guts than I’ve displayed lately. If you want to write about me, Amanda, frankly, I’m flattered.”
Her smile grew brilliant and she hugged him, oblivious to the sheet that fell from her, exposing her breasts tipped with dusky pink and her smooth white shoulders. Luke’s eyes warmed and he tipped her face up to his, taking her with a kiss.
Amanda sighed, drawing him down into her embrace. God, it had all been worth it. She’d humiliated herself, but none of that meant a damn. She had him, and t
hat was all that mattered.
“You know, Amanda?” Luke pushed the rest of the sheet out of the way and began to caress her, loving the way she responded unashamedly, unlike any other woman he’d ever known. “There’s one thing I can’t figure out. Why didn’t you just tell me you were pregnant? I would have come right back.” He traced the round fullness of her belly, then looked up at her, his blue eyes warm and tender.
Amanda stared at him in surprise. “I don’t know. I figured that I drove you away, and that it was up to me to get you back. I wouldn’t think of using a child like that.”
Luke started to laugh, unable to help himself. To any other woman, using her pregnancy would have been her first thought. To Amanda, that was amoral—but sleazing around in a saloon dress was not.
“Why are you laughing at me?” Amanda asked softly, though a smile curved around her lips.
Luke grinned. “I was just thinking of how much I love you. I love the way you think, the way you feel, your honesty. When I realize that I had almost lost you, it scared the living hell out of me.”
“You never will again.” Amanda sighed, bringing his mouth to hers. “I love you, Luke Parker. And you can quote me on that.”
Epilogue
He’d left her for two weeks—two weeks that seemed like years. Angel sat at her father’s table and tried to smile at the cowhands, the trail bosses, the townspeople who had once again welcomed her back into their midst. But none of it mattered now. Chase was gone and she was finally a woman— a woman alone.
“Try some of the cold wine, pet. It’s very good.”
Her father tried to cheer her, but Angel could only shake her head. She felt empty inside. She saw the worried look on his face and forced a smile, unwilling to cause him any more pain, but she couldn’t bring herself to be festive.
Why had she spoken so carelessly and shut Chase out of her life? She thought she’d been doing what was right, protecting herself from him and him from her father’s wrath, but suddenly it just wasn’t worth it. She wanted him back, wanted Chase in her arms once more, and wanted to know that it had been real.
Wild Is the Night Page 32