Ride The Wild Wind (Time Travel Historical Romance)

by Ivey , Kimberly

He knelt at her feet. Frozen, she swallowed hard as he bent to lift the hem of her gown, sucking in her breath as warm, rough palms moved upward over her shins searching, seeking. Elena stood but a few feet away, anger and shock clearly sketched across her face. His fingertips fell upon the pink scar on her knee and lingered.

  “It is you,” he said, barely above a whisper. He stood and whirled to face Elena.

  “You were instructed not to sell her!” His voice thundered, booming in the small room.

  Elena’s face blanched. She rushed and flung the door open wide. Her eyes flew to Halle. “Leave us at once.”

  Halle sprinted for the door. No, problem. No sireee. I’ll grab the rest of my clothes and high tail it out of the line of fire. On her way she snatched her clothing as well as the small knife Elena had given her.

  “We had a deal!”

  “And have kept my word, mi amor. I have not harmed her.”

  “You turned her into one of your whores!”

  Halle wheeled around at the insult. “Hey, I’m not a whore! I’m a hairstylist-slash-fashion-consultant-slash-secretary!” She really had to get a shorter job title and fast.

  He flashed a warning look that sent a shiver prickling up her spine. But it wasn’t fear that had her knees trembling, her heart pounding. Oh, no. It was the way he was looking at her now, with sexy, smoldering eyes.

  And the realization this was the man they called Whitehorse, Elena’s lover.

  She swallowed hard, her eyes slipping over his dark, dangerous form. Oh, dear God. She’d shared an intimate moment with him a few months before.

  Even grungy, he was the hottest damned man she’d ever seen. Then she noticed the obscenely large bulge in the front of his pants. Her nipples tightened in response and she sucked in a breath. This was a disaster in the making. She could sooo not have the hots for this guy.

  She sailed past but he lunged forward and caught her by the arm, pulled her close, his grip hurtful, almost bruising. Halle swallowed hard and dared to meet his gaze. Why was he staring? And why did she suddenly feel as if her mind had turned to mush.

  “Release her,” Elena pleaded. “She should not be witness to our quarrel.”

  His grip eased up on her arm slightly, but he pulled her against him, his palm flattening against the small of her spine as he drew her pelvis to his.

  “What quarrel could I possibly have with this woman?” he muttered.

  Halle felt his erection through the fabric that separated their bodies, the heat and sexual hunger he exuded. She dared not move, not that she could. Frozen, she stared at his Adam’s apple, fully expecting Elena to thrust a knife in her back at any moment. Maybe his. His gray eyes held her as if in a trance.

  Memories of the day he kissed and caressed her resurfaced, as well as the erotic dreams she’d had of him in his absence. Oh, hell. She was helpless to stop the torrent of emotions flooding her. Her lips parted as if of their own accord. She wanted him to kiss her now, despite the fact Elena was in the room, watching. A moment of pleasure with this man would more than make up for Elena’s wrath.

  “I am pleased to see you have recovered.” He reached up to comb his fingers through her hair. A chill skittered up her spine when he tenderly tucked a lock behind her ear. Her breasts grew heavy and the ache between her legs—the one he’d caused three months ago—returned. She bit down on her lip, swallowed hard as he brushed his knuckles against her cheek, then boldly skimmed them downward to her breasts again. A shudder rippled over her heated skin.

  His lips curled into a sensual smile. “You have not forgotten that day either, have you?”

  How could she forget? That day…the kiss. The way he’d touched her breasts. She’d remembered every day since. Every night as she lay in bed alone.

  “No,” she whispered, feeling dizzy and breathless. “I haven’t forgotten.” He brushed the back of his hand against her nipple through the sheer fabric and she sucked in a breath.

  “Neither have I.”

  Oh, this was going badly. Elena would have her head on a turkey platter for this, and maybe an apple stuffed in her mouth to boot!

  Halle tore away and reeled toward the door, fully aware he was on her heels. The door slammed behind her. Momentarily, glass shattered in the room and Elena cried out. His voice boomed from behind the thick door as he lashed Elena with a verbal tirade in Spanish.

  Holy shit, this was bad!

  She picked up her skirt hem and high-tailed it downstairs to the safety of Rosa’s kitchen.

  * * * * *

  “Antonio, it is not as it appears. I swear to you on my life.”

  Elena’s promises—her word—meant nothing. She was an opportunist and an incredible liar. “You did not follow my orders. The woman was to remain untouched.” His gun belt slid to the floor with a hefty thud. He tore off his dusty vest and sweat-dampened shirt and dropped them into the pile. The jealous witch had done this on purpose! God damn, but he could almost kill her!

  His stomach turned at the thought of men abusing the girl. He had returned for her, not as soon as he would have liked, but Elena knew how to punish him.

  She eased up behind him, laid a delicate hand on his shoulder. He tensed, fought down his desire to curl his hand around her throat and squeeze until she lay blue and unconscious.

  “Believe me, querido, no man has touched her. I only thought the dress would make her attractive when she served drinks in the suite tonight.”

  Lying bitch. Did she think him stupid? He knew that gown—the one that all the young women wore on their initiations. No, Elena had seized an opportunity to hurt him. She had planned this event for his return.

  Disgust roiled through him. He wondered if Elena had also taken her as a lover these past few months. It did not matter. Now he knew the reason for his cousin’s vision. The red haired woman had come to save The People, but not in the manner he first believed. There was a sizeable reward offered by her family a territory away. His vest pocket held a folded poster offering five hundred dollars for her return. The much needed money would buy food and guns for the starving Navajo.

  At least now he did not have to track her down.

  Obviously Elena did not yet know of the reward. If she had, the woman would have been long gone.

  “How much for her?” Antonio asked, watching the color in Elena’s cheeks rise. “Since you say she is untouched, I will be the first.”

  Elena clutched a hand to the bodice of her gown. “You cannot want her?”

  He didn’t at that moment but watching the expression on Elena’s face change from mild shock to fury was rather satisfying. “What if I did want her, El? How much would she cost?”

  “She is a virgin. She will be too much trouble. ”

  He scoffed. “Did she truly remain a virgin in my absence?”

  “You cannot have her, Antonio. I forbid it.”

  “And you cannot stop me from taking what I want! Have you forgotten who owns this house and the furnishings in it? The gilt paintings…ivory statues? Whose money paid for your expensive French gowns over the years? Even your food?” He leaned close into her face now. “I will have any woman in this establishment if I so choose! I will have all of them if I damned well desire!”

  Elena trembled. “She knows nothing of pleasing you—not as I do.”

  Antonio laughed harshly. “Liar. She is your lover, isn’t she? Share her with me, Elena. Better yet, join us in a threesome tonight. I suspect such would be more to your liking, would it not?”

  Elena’s body trembled with rage. Good. He loved the affect of his scandalous suggestion.

  “I will kill you if you touch her,” she replied, barely above a whisper.

  “The hell you will.” It made no sense to him why Elena would be protective of the girl. Never had she put another’s needs before her own. Unless, of course, he was right and she had taken her as a lover. “Is she sleeping with you?”

  She hesitated. “No.”

  “But you have considere
d it?”

  She looked away. “I do not wish to speak of this, Antonio.”

  He eyed her up and down, trying to discern the thoughts rattling around in her devious head. It would not be the first time he had known Elena to keep company with a woman. Had she intended to groom her for her own personal use, and then discard her as one of her lower priced whores when she found a younger, prettier toy?

  “Tell me the truth, Elena. She is wearing the initiation dress. I saw you clutching her like a lover when I came in. What would have happened if I hadn’t returned? Would you have seduced her? Or would you have sent her to room twelve to be tied to the bed and brutalized? Isn’t that what you do in that particular room—indulge men and women’s darker fantasies? How many customers were to attend your private party tonight in the suite? Or were you planning to induct her yourself with that damned ridiculous apparatus you enjoy wearing on occasion?”

  Elena’s eyes lifted to his, a mixture of hurt and anger in them. Such was a forbidden topic between them.

  “What do you care if I indulge my desires on occasion? I am lonely, Antonio. Would it matter if I take a female lover in your absence? I do not ask if you enjoy other women while we are apart.” She turned and headed for the door. ”I will call for Pedro to draw water for your bath.”

  “I have no time for a tub bath.”

  She paused. “Very well.”

  His eyes followed her as she crossed the room to the wash stand. He watched Elena reach into the drawer and remove a straight razor, his shaving cup and brush.

  She lifted the porcelain pitcher and poured fresh water into the basin. “What is your hurry?”

  He sat on the edge of her bed and pulled off his boots. He dared not tell her the urgency of his visit or about the poster he picked up that morning and the reward for the Brannigan woman’s return. “I must leave once Diablo is paid and supplies are loaded. Is the wagon in the back alley ready?”

  She turned to face him. “Yes. Rosa and my ladies have also been storing meal and preserved fruits in the pantry since you last departed as well as sacks of dried beef. And there are two spans of mules at the livery, as you ordered. Pedro will bring them in the morning before you depart.”

  He sat forward, pushed his fingers through his greasy hair. “No. I leave tonight. The Navajo are starving. Carson’s troops burned crops all the way from Canyon Bonito. They will not survive the winter without supplies. Once I arrive the mules will be eaten as well.”

  “Diego—my son—is he well?”

  “He is with my aunt and is well.”

  He watched her nibble at her lower lip. Bright tears shone in her eyes. “I heard they are taking no male prisoners. He will be killed if soldiers find him.”

  Antonio nodded. “We all will.”

  She wiped away a tear with her fingertip, then began to unhook the front of her gown.

  “No, Elena. I have no time.” He didn’t. More than that, he no longer held any desire for her. He had to get out of there, and fast. Standing, he unfastened his breeches and dropped them, hoping to change quickly and be gone.

  Elena stared at his erection, although she could not know she hadn’t caused it. When he burst through the door and saw the red-haired beauty wearing the sheer, cream-colored confection, her hair upswept and beribboned, he wanted her like no other woman before.

  Elena slid the gown from her shoulders, revealing her breasts. “Perhaps you will change your mind and make time for me.”

  He clamped his jaw tight and said nothing, unimpressed by the practice among prostitutes of rouging their nipples.

  “Do you like my hair, querido? I had it done special for you. And this gown is new as well.” She twirled before him, the hem billowing wide. “It is patterned after an expensive Paris original.” She struck a pose. “Enchanting, is it not?”

  He stared at the vain, selfish woman. Navajo children starved. Elders grew weaker each day from lack of decent food, and all Elena could think of was her damned hair...her fucking expensive dress. She’d not seen The People’s emaciated bodies, the hollow look of near-defeat in their eyes. She hadn’t listened to the weak cry of babies because their mothers were too malnourished to nurse them properly. Instead, she stood before him, poised like a pampered queen in her gold and ivory palace—a house he’d bought with De Los Santos wealth.

  Goddamn it but his grandfather must be writhing in his grave right now!

  Elena had no idea what he had witnessed these past few months. To make matters worse, the United States Calvary had issued a warrant for his arrest. Dead or alive, the headline in the newspapers read. The reward paid more if he was delivered alive. He was almost certain Elena didn’t know. She would turn him in if she thought she might get a new dress or necklace out of the deal.

  It was too risky to come here again. Once he had taken a meal and loaded supplies, he would be on his way, the red-haired woman in tow

  The aromas of frijoles, molé and tortillas wafted into the room, drawing his thoughts away from Elena momentarily. His stomach growled, reminding him he’d not eaten in two days. Guilt gnawed at him when he thought of his family in Dinetah. How could he enjoy Rosa’s tasty fare when he wondered if his own son might go hungry tonight?

  He quickly shoved the thought away, kicked out of his pants and padded over to the wash stand. He paused, his gaze sliding over Elena, so regal-looking in her expensive satin gown and upswept curls. But despite her beauty, she did not compare to the woman he now knew from the poster as Hope Brannigan.

  A pang of regret stabbed at his heart. There had been a time when coming here had felt like his only salvation. Now, he felt like a man with a date with the executioner. This was the last time he would see Elena for a long while. Maybe forever.

  She stood quietly by, her dark, sensual eyes searching his. He knew what she wanted— what she always wanted. A scrap of affection. “Your hair is lovely,” he finally commented and her face brightened like a child who’d received a long-awaited gift. “So is the dress.”

  She drew close to him, pushed the grimy strands of hair from his face with her petal-soft fingertips and rose up on tiptoe to kiss him hotly, hungrily. She smelled fresh, of violets and expensive French milled soap.

  In his condition, it would have been so easy to give in, to take the release her body offered. He tore his mouth from hers. “Elena, I told you, I’ve no time.”

  “Shhh.” She fitted her lips over his once more and he was drawn into her captivating web of seduction. Ellie was here—so soft, so tempting. Comforting. Perhaps that was all he needed, someone to hold him for a little while until the horrors of what he’d witnessed these past few months subsided. He refused to think anymore.

  He filled a palm with a breast. Her skin was incredibly soft and flawless, dusted with a fine sheen of perfumed talcum powder.

  Then he thought of Hope Brannigan and stilled.

  The image of beautiful young Hope standing in Elena’s boudoir like a goddess washed over him, the cream-colored silk dress set against flawless skin. He recalled the raw desire in her eyes when he held her against him. The blush of innocence when her body responded to his. No, it had not been his imagination. She had wanted him as much as he had wanted her.

  He still wanted her.

  Shaken, and a bit disgusted by his behavior with Elena, he pushed all thoughts of Hope Brannigan away and remembered the woman he was with. Desire fled, as well as his arousal.

  “Antonio, what troubles you?”

  He sighed and turned away. “Nothing. I am tired.”

  Then he heard the low thunder of hooves in the distance and the rumble of wagons. “Elena…listen.”

  Elena’s dark eyes were soft and misted with passion. She shook her head. “Que es?” She reached up to pat a loose tendril of hair back in place.

  He tore across the room, hooked a finger in the drapery and eased it back. Soldiers. The bastards were descending upon the place! He danced into his pants.

  Elena crossed to the wi
ndow. “Dios!” She whirled to face him, her hand clutched to her naked bosom, her gown open to the waist.

  “Get dressed, El.” He pulled on his boots, then strapped on his gun belt.

  “I will hide you.” She retrieved a pearl handled pistol from her desk. As she closed the drawer, a small folded piece of parchment fluttered to the ground. She snatched the paper, suspiciously easing it inside her pocket.

  “What was that?”

  Her eyes widened innocently. “What?”

  “The note.”

  She flinched ever so slightly. “It is nothing but some foolish request of one of my girls.”

  She was lying. Had she tipped off the soldiers, informing them of his scheduled arrival in Albuquerque tonight?

  “Quick, Antonio, we must go to the cellar.”

  He studied her face, her expressions. She was nervous. Why? What was in that damned note that she did not want him to see?

  “I’ll hide you, mi amor. Come with me.”

  There was no way in hell he was sticking around. He no longer trusted her. Besides, Carson’s men would tear the floor boards and walls apart looking for him if they suspected he was here.

  He pulled on his shirt and grabbed his vest, then pulled Elena into his arms. He kissed her hard and demanding, one hand reaching up to fondle a breast. A ruse that worked.

  Her arms went around his neck and he deepened the kiss. Successful at distraction, his other hand slipped into her pocket undetected. Note in hand, he slid it into his sleeve’s cuff, then broke the kiss and released her.

  “I have to leave.”

  “Antonio!” She hurried down the hallway on his heels, still buttoning her gown. Doors creaked open as they passed. “Where will you go? What will I tell them?”

  “Tell them you know nothing of me. Deny everything.” Shoving aside a tall, but lightweight book case at the end of the hallway, he yanked open a small, hinged wall panel, ducked and entered, slamming it shut behind him. The secret exit. He heard Elena’s shrieks, the commotion of the book case being scooted back into place, followed by footsteps in the corridor as the shouts and booted steps of soldiers ascended the stairs.