by Dee Burks
The man kicked his horse into motion, and Samantha bounced roughly in front of him. Though she seemed to be in no immediate danger, his nearness made her uneasy. She bounced harder as they picked up speed and her body stiffened. The bruises on her backside would be as big as apples tomorrow.
She leaned as far away from him as the confines of the coat allowed. An involuntary tremor shook her body. She squeezed her arms to her side in an effort to control the shaking. He pulled her gently toward his chest, but she instantly pulled away.
“Thought you might be cold, lady, but that’s fine. I wasn’t looking forward to getting covered with mud anyway." She glared at him in the darkness for a minute, then twisted and slammed her full back into his chest. The mud made contact with his chest with a satisfying thwack. Samantha wiggled her back a little. The sticky mud fell off her back in clumps and onto him.
There you go, cowboy, get nice and filthy.
His arm tightened against her ribs and she felt a chuckle rumble through his chest. She fumed in forced silence as the warmth from his body slowed her shivers to a halt. How dare he tie her up and carry her off? This wasn’t the dark ages. She was too mad to think, and if he squeezed any harder she wouldn’t be able to breathe either. Under normal circumstances she would be grateful for the warmth, but these circumstances were anything but normal. As they made their way up the ridge, Samantha saw the shape of a house in the distance.
The Williams homestead grew steadily out of the darkness. Her smoldering anger turned to excitement. She was finally within earshot of safety. She straightened her back and tossed her head triumphantly. Taos Williams would knock this cowhand clear into next week, and Charlie or Darren just might shoot him. That prospect filled her with smug anticipation. She had tried to warn him.
Her captor headed for the barn and slid off the horse, taking Samantha with him. Her sore muscles tried to adjust to standing again, but she was more than a little wobbly. He stood behind her still holding her close. After a few minutes he leaned toward her until she could feel his warm breath tickle her left ear. The sensation sent a warm tremor through her chest and she tensed, waiting.
When he made no effort to move, she brought her heel down sharply on the inside of his foot. He grunted and jerked his coat away from her, spinning her around. The sudden chill rippled gooseflesh across her skin.
Hefting her over his shoulder, he walked the short distance to the house. The man opened the front door quietly, and deposited Samantha on the nearest piece of furniture. She winced as pain shot through her hip. He lit a lantern, tossing his wet hat next to her on the bench.
Samantha was stunned. Taos Williams. He was almost exactly as she remembered, only older and more tired perhaps. As a girl, she had run around with Taos and his brothers and they had treated her like a little sister. When she was fourteen, Taos had been twenty-one and every girl’s idea of a dashing hero. She had looked up to him and even had a crush on him until her parents died.
Taos frowned as he loosened the rope and rubbed her red wrists. “There are people asleep here, so keep your voice down,” he whispered.
He had the same wavy brown hair and ice blue eyes, though the rest of him had filled out somewhat. Broad muscular shoulders tapered to a lean and lanky torso. His face held deeply chiseled features set off by well-tanned, weather-worn skin. His eyes held hers captive, momentarily taking her breath away. Her emotions tumbled from surprise to relief to anger. Samantha batted his hands away and grabbed the handkerchief out of her mouth.
“When did you get to be such a bully?" Her voice was a harsh rasp; the inside of her mouth felt like it was coated with cotton. She coughed. Fine grit covered her teeth. She stood and a shower of mud pellets hit the floor.
Taos grabbed her arm. “Stay here while I tend the horses.”
“Why would I leave?” she snapped. There wasn’t any aroma of liquor on him, though he certainly sounded drunk and confused.
“I don’t know and I really don’t care anymore. Just stay put.”
She smiled sweetly and stepped toward him, pointing a finger at his chest. “Taos Williams, I have had enough of your manhandling and threats for one night. If you don’t remove your hand from my person, you will regret it."
He raised an eyebrow and tightened his grip at her challenge, silently calling her bluff. Samantha brought her knee up into his groin, connecting. His fingers loosened and she broke free, running for the stairs. She heard him mutter a curse and slam the door on his way out.
Chapter 5
How in the hell does she know my name?
Taos removed the saddle from his horse and brushed the animal in long strokes, but his thoughts focused on the woman. It would be one thing to know of him and even know his name, but she knew him instantly on sight.
She looked like hell, but she smelled like flowers. Roses maybe?
He shook his head. He had been out on the range too long. Most men were intimidated at first sight of him. Not her though. She’d stood her ground, even fought back when she had to know she had no chance of winning. She had spirit, he had to give her that.
It nagged at his mind that he couldn’t place her. Something about her seemed so familiar. He didn’t encounter many women as a rule. Usually they crossed the street to avoid him. Had he heard her voice somewhere? No, she had a bit of a Yankee accent, he would have remembered that. Her clothes appeared Eastern, and she obviously had means. Or had at one time.
So why was she riding hell-bent through a rainstorm? That’s another thing that didn’t make sense. She rode astride, like she’d been born to a saddle. And a Western one at that. The few Eastern ladies he had met wouldn’t be caught dead without a side saddle and never got beyond a trot. He barely kept up with her when she took off for the mine. His brush slowed to a stop.
The mine.
A person would have to know its exact location to find it in broad daylight, let alone in a rainstorm at twilight. She had to be from around here. His mind drifted back to their ride. Her slim form pressed against his chest, one hip rubbing the inside of his thigh. He’d forgotten how good a woman felt and had to admit that he didn’t ride near as fast as he could have just to feel her warmth against his chest a little longer.
Lilacs. Maybe she smelled more like lilacs.
He finished with his horse and moved to brush down her mount. The woman had looked at him like she’d seen a ghost when he’d lit the lamp. Then she went from happy, right to mad as hell. Maybe she was a little touched. That would certainly explain a few things. Although she seemed articulate, educated even. He sighed. She certainly had no problem expressing herself, that was for sure.
When he’d rubbed her hands, he’d stared into two eyes that glittered like great big emeralds. It almost took his breath away. If he’d come across a woman with eyes that green, he would have remembered. She could be younger than she looked. He’d guess her a few years beyond twenty, but these days some fifteen year olds looked twenty-five. A man couldn’t be too careful trying to guess a woman’s age, and it certainly wasn’t something he was good at.
Still, someone that age would have a husband and family waiting on them somewhere. What was she doing out here alone? Only the locals who knew the land would attempt a ride like that, trying to beat a storm.
She has to be some rancher’s daughter.
He looked her horse over. Nothing but a livery nag, not a horse a rancher would have. If her family did live around here, it would be hard to explain trussing her up and hauling her off. Especially since he didn’t know why he had done it.
No one would believe a man his size had to tie up a woman and stuff a rag in her mouth to get her out of the rain. Well, they might believe his urge to shut her up if they heard her talk for five minutes. He chuckled. Sure, he’d left her lying in the mud on purpose. It served her right for fighting him when he had only tried to help her. Besides, it had to be the funniest thing he’d seen in months. After all that, she still fought him when he pulled her onto
the horse. He shook his head and smiled. She was something, all right.
Maybe she just knew of him from people in town and planned this little charade to get to him.
A strange sense of foreboding snaked through his soul. He’d been played for a fool before, and everybody in town knew it. The possibility of looking down the barrel of some angry father’s gun again filled him with dread. Once was one too many times. He’d learned that hard lesson well.
Times were tough and the drought had gone on for months now without so much as a hint of rain, not that they’d gotten enough moisture the previous two years. This storm was the first drop they’d seen in six months, and though it helped, it wasn’t near enough. Other ranchers and farmers were getting more desperate by the hour; Mertie Mae’s proposition in town today was proof of that. Marrying off a spare daughter to a man with land, money, and water might be too big a temptation—even if he was a virtual social outcast.
Taos’s suspicions simmered. There weren’t many reasons some damsel in distress would be riding across his land unless she was looking for him. This had all the hallmarks of a setup, and Miss Fancy Pants was in his house, probably crawling in his bed right now to close the deal. Slamming the brush on a shelf near the barn door, he stalked toward the house. Whatever she wanted, she would not get it. He’d see to that. He would never be a sucker twice.
The rain had slowed to a cool drizzle when Taos opened the front door and glanced into the parlor. Gone. She was probably already flipping over the china to estimate its worth and looking for the silver. He could imagine her disbelief when she found no such luxuries here.
After Sharisse, he had learned to live well below his means. No one would have any indication of the size of his bank account by appearances. It had been his experience that a show of wealth attracted the wrong sort, and this situation was yet another confirmation of that fact. He climbed the stairs as quietly as possible, skipping the seventh one that creaked. The door to his room was cracked open slightly, and a light shone from within. He crept toward the bright glow and peered inside.
A large pile of clothes lay on the floor and dried mud littered the hallway. The woman washed her face with her back to him; she wore one of his shirts. The denim sure looked a damn sight better on her than it ever had on him, and Taos struggled to pull his eyes from the shapely length of calf the shirt left bare. She put down the wash cloth and picked up his brush, leaning over to pull the golden strands of hair over her head. The color of her hair sparked some recognition. The woman on the bluff. It had to be her.
He caught a glimpse in the mirror as the shirt gapped open. She was naked to the knees. Taos tried to close his eyes, but they refused. He stared as she brushed in long strokes. His mouth went dry at the slight movement of her breasts with each stroke. The motion was hypnotic and he was instantly hard.
What kind of woman strips down and puts on a strange man’s shirt in his bedroom? Not an innocent rancher’s daughter, that’s for sure.
Maybe she’s one of Miss Sadie’s girls.
He hadn’t been by there in a long time, and Sadie did tend to have classy whores. That would explain everything. The fancy clothes, being out here alone, riding in the rain, running from some man. It made perfect sense.
She would have heard of him in town, maybe had seen him from a distance. That’s how she knew his name! A slow smile spread across his face. This changed things, and for the better in his opinion. A whore that made house calls—how great was that? Relief combined with anticipation took hold. He might just benefit from this yet. He stepped through the door, closing it behind him.
The woman straightened and flipped her hair back. The strands floated over her shoulders like spun silk. She glanced at him in the mirror and continued like he wasn’t there. Taos’s eyes followed each brush stroke as he peeled his wet coat off and unbuttoned his shirt. She was sultry, tempting and he watched her gaze linger on his bare chest. He smiled as she forced her eyes back to his.
“What kind of lady are you anyway?”
She frowned, “I borrowed one of your shirts so my clothes could dry."
She wasn’t a great actress. He slowly walked toward her, coming so close she stepped back. “How do you know it’s mine? I’m sure you know I have brothers.”
“Of course I know you have brothers. This isn’t Darren or Charlie’s room. Besides, they are nowhere near as tall as you are.”
That’s it! How could she possible know who slept where in his house? He jerked off his shirt and tossed it aside in a shower of dried mud. He grabbed her arms. “Who are you, lady? How do you know so much? Have you been watching us?"
She stared at his chest like she’d forgotten her next line. He waited and could feel her grasp for another approach.
“You really have no idea who I am, do you?” She flashed him a blinding smile. “Didn’t we already have one discussion about you not grabbing me?"
Fine, if she wanted to play, he could play too. He released his grip, but slid his hands slowly down her arms brushing the sides of her breasts with his fingers. Her eyes widened in surprise, but she didn’t move away. She stared at his lips and he leaned down until they almost touched hers. “Who are you?" He whispered.
“Who do you think I am?"
He brushed his lips across hers, moving slowly toward her neck. He felt her lean toward him almost begging his lips to go farther. “I’d say,” he whispered, “you’re one of Miss Sadie’s girls and doing a damn fine job so far.”
She placed both palms against his naked chest and he smiled to himself knowing he was right about this one. She shoved hard and Taos fell backward on the bed, scooting it an inch or two across the floor with his sudden weight. She paced barefooted in front of him as he sat up on the edge of the mattress.
“Let me see if I have the facts straight."
He wasn’t sure but he thought he detected a smile. Why was this funny? What was she trying to do, make him work for it?
“I try to get to . . . let’s say, a friend’s house."
He snorted, “Friend my ass.”
She ignored him and continued, “And I get caught in a rainstorm. I am then chased by a very strange man." She paused to stare pointedly at him then resumed her march.” When I finally find some shelter, this same barbarian insists on rescuing me. To prove it, he scares the life out of me. Ties me up. Rolls me in muck. Then proceeds to drag me to his home like I’m some criminal.”
The beginnings of a fine sheen of nervous sweat popped up on Taos’s forehead. There was something about the way she said the word ‘criminal’ that unnerved him. What if he was wrong? Because if he was, this could turn out very badly. “I was just trying to—”
“I’m not finished yet." She continued to pace, “As if all that weren’t enough, while I’m trying to clean up and dry off, he has the nerve to call me a woman of questionable morals." She stopped in front of him. “Is this the series of events as you remember them, Mr. Williams?"
“Uh, well,” His mind searched for a way out of this. “What was I supposed to think with you taking off every stitch up here?”
“Well, let’s see," The woman crossed her arms and tapped a finger on her cheek. “You could have thought that maybe I preferred not to drip on the floor all night. Or you could have thought that I needed privacy as opposed to wandering around the parlor naked. Both of these seem logical assumptions, yet for some reason you chose to conclude that I was . . . Hmm, here for your enjoyment shall we say?" She leaned toward him, “Why is that?” She arched a brow and slid a glance toward his trousers. “Been a while has it?”
Taos was at a loss for words and the silence dragged as she waited for an answer.
She narrowed her eyes. “How do you know that I took all my clothes off? Were you watching me?”
“I didn’t watch you undress." His eyes involuntarily flicked toward the opening of her shirt and she clamped a hand against the fabric.
“What do you want from me?" He was tired of this little
game and it was time to end it.
She grinned. “What do you think I want?"
“If you have a father, or anybody else, with a shotgun waiting downstairs, you better tell me now. I’d hate to kill a man unnecessarily." He watched her carefully waiting for her to reveal whatever plan she had cooked up.
She laughed, “No, there is no father or anyone else downstairs.”
He smiled. She was here alone. “Good." He grabbed her waist and slammed her against his chest. “I’m tired of playing games." His mouth came down hard on hers.
She pressed her lips closed and tried to push away. He moved one hand to the middle of her back and pulled her closer. After a moment, she relaxed and arched her body toward his. His lips molded to hers and gently coaxed them open. He could tell it had just been a token resistance. She followed his lead cautiously at first, then with more confidence. She had to be stringing him along. Her open palm slid along his rough cheek and into his hair, leaving a trail of heat that electrified his body.
As the kiss deepened, his hands slid over her butt and down the backs of her thighs. He slid them under the shirt and up her hips. Smooth fleshed molded to his hands as he glided them over her body at will. He trailed hot, wet kisses from her mouth to her neck, nibbling until her breath came in short gasps. She let out a small moan as his hands crept up her ribs toward her breasts.
He chuckled, “Miss Sadie would be proud. I haven’t seen a performance like this in ages.”
She went from passion to white hot fury in a heartbeat.
“Let me go you . . . you!" She struggled backward pounding her fists on his chest until his hands fell away. She gathered her wet things in a huff and headed to the door.
“Scare you off, sweetheart?”
“Not on your life, mister. You can deal with me and your brothers in the morning. I hope they beat the snot out of you for this." Her irritated steps echoed down the hall.