Ride The Wild Wind (Time Travel Historical Romance)

by Ivey , Kimberly

  He kissed and nuzzled her breasts, moving back and forth as if he couldn’t decide which one he wanted more. One hand slipped beneath her buttocks. He caressed her, kneaded her bottom, his fingernails digging into her soft flesh.

  Halle gazed at the vast sky above, accepting there would be no declaration of love tonight. Not that she expected it. Love was a fantasy, the substance of children’s fairly tales. It never existed for her and most likely, never would.

  Then what was this disturbing emotion weighing upon her heart? Was she falling in love? She lifted her hands to his shoulders, caressed them again and her heart did a pit-a-pat.

  Oh, yeah. She was in love with him. And it was all so wrong. Even if he truly didn’t intend to follow through with the reward, there was no guarantee for a future for them. Hell, she didn’t even know what the future held for her. Hadn’t she already learned that cruel lesson once? One moment you’re living your life, then poof! You’re somewhere else in a time and place you didn’t want to be.

  Halle’s breath caught as he settled between her thighs. She hadn’t realized he’d unbuttoned his pants until flesh met flesh. He was hot and hard and she reveled in the new experience of his intimate touch. His eyes narrowed into slits and he grimaced as if in pain.

  “Are you all right?” she whispered

  His eyes closed and she felt his body tremble against hers. “Yes.”

  “You look like you’re in pain.”

  He dipped to drop a kiss on her lips. “Not pain.”

  She pressed her palms against his shoulders, keeping him at bay. “Wait. First, I have to know something.”

  “At this precise moment?”

  “It’s really, really important.”

  He was silent. “What?”

  “Did you really mean what you said about handing me over to Frank Cole for the reward?”

  * * * * *

  Antonio’s throat tightened as he recalled the harsh words he’d said in anger. Hell no, he hadn’t meant it. Now he wished he could take back every hurtful remark. He could no more send her back to Frank Cole than chop off his own arm.

  And he had lied to himself about something, too. What he felt for her was far from lust. He wasn’t certain how it happened or even when it began, but over the past few days he’d come to care for her. The first woman he had allowed himself to care for since his wife, Ooljee, died. Was it love? He drew in a steadying breath and sighed. It had been a long time since he loved a woman. He feared he was in love with this one. “No, you’re not going back to Cole.”

  Antonio gazed down at her. She had the most beautiful, expressive brown eyes that hid no emotion. Full, lush lips. Heart shaped face. Her cheeks and throat were flushed, her nipples, dark and swollen from his impassioned suckling. He reached between them and splayed one hand across her belly.

  What was he going to do with her? He had promised not to turn her in for the reward, but that placed him in a most difficult position? Winter was fast closing in onThe People. They would starve without food.

  He clenched his eyes shut. There was one other option, one he had refused to seriously consider until now. Sell his grandfather’s legacy, the vast ranch the old man entrusted into Antonio’s care, Rancho de los Santos in California.

  “You will do great things with our family’s ranch one day mi’hijo,” his grandfather had said. At one time, Antonio believed he might. But his situation had changed. Although selling the family legacy would rip his heart out, he could not in good conscience turn this woman—Hope Brannigan or Halle Brooks or whoever she truly was—over to Franklin Cole. The De Los Santos ranch in California would instead be sold.

  He slid down her trembling body, leaving a trail of soft kisses in his wake. He knew from the tremble of her body she was frightened, yet instinctively he also knew it had nothing to do with her inexperience or what he was doing. She didn’t trust him. Not that he deserved it after the heartless words he had hurled in anger.

  Ducking down, he tongued her navel, savoring the sweet taste of her silken skin. It had been well over a year since he had enjoyed the softness of a woman’s body. Even longer since he’d known a virgin.

  “Does this please you?” he murmured against her skin.

  Her hand lifted and tentatively touched the back of his head. “Y-yes.”

  Gazing down, he dipped a fingertip into the silken wetness, finding her slick with her own dew.

  She lay still, beautiful and sensuous, watching his every move, her eyes misted with desire and another emotion he could not determine. He pleasured her a moment, not bringing her to orgasm yet, but helping her to relax and trust him. She shivered.

  “Are you cold?” he asked, looking up at her.

  “No.”

  “Frightened by what I am doing?”

  “No.”

  He watched her eyes widen, listened to her sharp intake of breath as he pressed one finger into her slick softness. His own breath quickened as blood surged into his cock. Her body was ready enough to accept him, but tight. Too tight, he realized as he tried a second finger without success. She squirmed and made a little moaning noise of protest deep in her throat

  “Shhh, I will not hurt you.” He inched deeper and she tensed. There was no way she could take him. Not yet, anyway. Still, he continued, pressing deeper until he encountered the barrier—proof of her innocence.

  Withdrawing, he stroked her pleasure center again. She made little whimpering sounds in her throat, her hips arching slightly. Oddly, it thrilled him to know that no other man had known her intimately. Most likely, none had pleasured her either. Her eyes begged him to ease her torment. Finally, she broke, her body bucking of its own accord as a soft cry escaped her lips.

  She lay panting, eyes wide and gazing skyward. Her breasts rose and fell with each ragged breath. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to drive himself into her tight, silken heat, to know her untried body and make her his woman.

  Her palm lifted and skimmed lazily down his arm. Lighter skin met darker as she touched him in a tender gesture.

  “You don’t have to stop.”

  He nodded. “I must.” Despite the fact he wanted her, he would not take her virginity. Not like this anyway.

  “I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

  With every ounce of decency he possessed—which wasn’t much at the moment—-he lay down beside her and pulled the blanket over them. “Perhaps it is best that we sleep.”

  Momentarily, she rolled onto her side to face him. “Were you thinking of her while you were touching me?”

  He jerked his face toward her. “Who?”

  “Elena.”

  He wasn’t, but at her suggestion he did. He thought her away as quickly. “No. I was not thinking of Elena.”

  “But I thought the two of you were lovers?”

  “Old friends.”

  “Old friends who sleep together?”

  He sighed, then turned onto his side, placing his back to her. “Not often. Ours is a most difficult and complicated arrangement.”

  “Are you in love with her?”

  “What?”

  “Do you love Elena Costanza?”

  “No, at least not in the manner you suggest.”

  “Then why did you stop touching me just now?”

  “You are a virgin.”

  “I don’t want to be.”

  He gave a half laugh and turned on to his back. “If I had no honor, you would not be.” It was going to be one hell of a miserable night. “Rest now.”

  “Hey, can I call you by your first name Antonio?”

  He closed his eyes a moment. “Whatever pleases you.”

  She cleared her throat. “Antonio, I was wondering about something. Do you have another woman stashed somewhere? You know, like a wife or girlfriend?”

  He stared at the vast night sky. “No.”

  “Have you ever been married?”

  He turned to look at her. “Why do you ask so many questions?”


  “Just curious,” she answered with a shrug.

  Too curious. “I have been married, twice. I have a son by my second wife. He’s almost nine years old. I also had a daughter once.” His throat constricted at the memory of the baby, Mariposa. He swallowed hard, fighting back the pain that squeezed his chest every time he thought of his dead child.

  “You’re divorced?”

  “My wife is deceased.”

  “Oh.” She said it as if she were sorry she’d asked.

  When she began to toy with his hair, he turned onto his side, placing his back to her again. “It is best we not touch one another again.”

  She laughed softly and snuggled up to his backside. “A little late for that, don’t you think?”

  He tried not to remember how close they’d come, but it was damned near impossible to think of anything with her soft, feminine form molding to his. “Go to sleep. I am tired.” But he wasn’t tired. If he looked at her again—no, if she touched him in just the precise manner, he might not be able to curb his desires.

  She eased away and was silent. He was about to doze off when her voice awakened him.

  “Does anyone ever call you Tony for short?”

  He forced a weary eye open, wondering if the woman was even capable of silence.

  “No.”

  “Then would you mind if I called you Tony?”

  “Yes, I would mind very much. You are to never call me Tony. My name is Antonio.”

  She drew the blanket up to cover the lower half of him, then snuggled down beside him again. Her bony knees jutted painfully into his lower spine. Deliberately, he assumed, and scooted over.

  “Hey Antonio?”

  He sat up and flung the covers off. “Must I gag you?”

  She blinked, her brown eyes large and innocent looking. About as innocent as a spider reeling him in for the kill.

  “I just had one last itty bitty question is all. Sheesh. Don’t get your buckskins in a wad.”

  He doubted she’d only one question. “What?”

  She nibbled at her lower lip. “I was wondering something.”

  Madre de Dios! “You have my complete attention. Speak your mind.”

  “Would it be all right if I touch you like you touched me?”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Halle awakened later that night to find Antonio kneeling at her side. She smiled up at him, remembering what they’d been doing before she fell asleep. They hadn’t gone all the way but she’d allowed her to pleasure him.

  “You’d best wake up,” he said as he brushed his knuckles over her cheek.

  His deep rich voice washed over her, sending a new ripple of arousal through her body. Kicking the blanket off deliberately, she turned onto her back and stretched long and sensuously like a happy, sated cat. His eyes perused her nude body leisurely, much to her delight.

  “We have a visitor.”

  Halle snatched the blanket to cover herself and pulled herself to a sitting position. “Who?”

  “I am not certain” He caressed her cheek and jaw with the back of his hand. “A lone rider, though probably not trouble.”

  Halle grabbed the borrowed shirt and disappeared behind the rocks with Max. Fingers trembling, she quickly buttoned it, then smoothed the hem down over her hips. Peering around the rocks, she saw that Antonio had pulled on his pants, his stance relaxed, no gun in hand. That meant he knew the person. She touched her fingertips to lips which felt bruised from his impassioned kisses. Then she smoothed the hair from her face, and clenched her thighs together to stop the sweet ache the remembrance of his caresses aroused.

  An Indian with shoulder-length raven hair trotted into view on a multicolored horse and Antonio called out to the man who appeared to be not much older than he. It was apparent from their greeting Antonio knew him well. The man was clad in a pair of buckskin pants like Antonio’s, except with fringed legs. He wore odd-looking leather wrap-around boots fastened by a row of three polished silver buttons. Perhaps Navajo or even Apache. It was hard to tell.

  In her former existence, she’d seen clothing like this in museums and in photographs, but it was the magnificent necklace of brilliant turquoise nuggets that held her full attention—an impressive piece of jewelry she supposed a man of status might wear. The rider dismounted and the two men exchanged words in a language unfamiliar to her. For a few minutes they appeared oblivious to her presence, laughing raucously as if reminiscing about old times.

  Antonio finally called for her to come out of hiding.

  Slowly, she emerged with Max in her arm, embarrassed by her state of partial undress. Now she wished she’d grabbed the blanket. Thankfully, the man averted his eyes when he saw her. Antonio, however looked mortified. He gestured to her legs. “You must cover yourself. Get the blanket.”

  She made a face and he gave her the look, the one she absolutely hated.

  “This is my cousin, Sonny. He will be joining us tonight in our camp and in the morning we will ride across the canyon to team up with his men.”

  “Sonny?”

  “His name is Son of the Old Ways, although it’s not proper to address our people by their true name. He gestured to her bare legs again. “Please cover yourself when you are in his presence. To bare your legs before a Navajo man is improper.”

  So he was Navajo. Since Antonio could speak the language did that also mean he was part Navajo?

  Halle slipped back behind the rocks, and retrieved the blanket. She pouted a few minutes, embarrassed by his admonishment before his cousin. How was she to know what was proper or improper? Sheesh. She wasn’t a child, although she felt like one. When she didn’t return, Antonio appeared.

  “Is everything all right?” he inquired.

  “Peachy.”

  “Your face and neck are flushed. Are you ill?”

  She wouldn’t look at him. “I’m fabulous. Can’t you tell” In actuality, her body was still on fire, hungering for more of his caresses, despite the scolding. She doubted sleep would come easily, if at all. She lifted her gaze to meet his. “Maybe I should ask how you feel? Are you ill?”

  “No.”

  “So you are feeling better after I did that special thingy for you?”

  He hesitated, cleared his throat. “Yes, much.”

  “I’d certainly say so.”

  Awkward silence stretched between them.

  “Try and sleep now,” He drew the blanket around her shoulders. “I must speak with my cousin, but I will return shortly.” He lingered, almost as if he didn’t want to leave. “I did not intend to embarrass you tonight.”

  Halle felt no embarrassment—absolutely none. Actually, she felt more liberated than she had in her entire life. So it was only lust he had once claimed to feel for her? Now she knew better. This man had a conscience, and apparently a heart, too.

  After he left, she settled down but sleep was elusive. Tossing and turning on the hard ground, she remained awake until Antonio finally joined her and Max once again. He undressed while she watched, then indicated for her to do the same.

  On their sides, he pulled her naked body back against his, encircling her waist with one strong arm. He brought is knees up behind hers, urging her into a fetal position. Her buttocks rested snug against his crotch. He then covered them with the blanket.

  “I will stay with you all night,” he whispered. “Sleep now.”

  Hallie shut her eyes and melted into his protective embrace.

  Yep, she could get used to sleeping with this guy. Easy.

  * * * * *

  Sonny was awake and had started a small fire a few feet away when Antonio awoke before daybreak. Hundreds of glittering stars dotted the pre-dawn indigo sky and fragrant wood smoke filled their campsite and mingled with the crisp, morning air.

  He pondered the night’s events as he watched Halle sleep. He had not taken her completely, but had taught her how to pleasure him. What was he to do with her? Actually, he hadn’t many choices. He had made the decision t
o keep her with him and protect her from Frank Cole. Last night, Sonny suggested he marry her. Right now he did not want to consider a permanent union. Running ammunition and food rations to The People left him no time to provide for a wife. As it was, his young son was being raised by a maternal aunt.

  The idea he might be falling in love with Halle had occurred to him more than once over the past few days. The thought troubled him. He had a mission to fulfill, and caring for her—caring for any woman—might cloud his judgment. There was no future for them with The People. One day, she would want to return to civilization. Loving her would make it impossible to let her go.

  Not wanting to think about his dilemma any further, Antonio slipped from beneath the warm blanket without waking her. He joined Sonny who sat cross-legged several yards away upon a massive rock overhang, keeping silent watch of the eastern sky in preparation for the morning offering. The horizon was beginning to lighten to a pale pink, although the sun had not yet made its entrance to this part of the world.

  Shirtless, save for his leather vest, Antonio shivered as he crouched next to his cousin, his exhaled breath white as frost in the frigid morning air. Respectful of Sonny’s prayerful moment, he remained silent.

  As the rim of the morning sun crested the horizon, Sonny pulled a small leather bag containing blessed corn pollen from a pouch tied at his waist. Bag in one hand, Antonio watched him take a pinch between his thumb and forefinger and sprinkle it on the top of his head. He then took another pinch and placed it on his tongue.

  Silently, Antonio recited the words in his mind, along with Sonny.

  May it be beautiful before me…may it be beautiful behind me…may it be beautiful above me….may it be beautiful below me….may I walk in beauty.

  It had been years since Antonio made a morning offering to the Holy Ones— not since before leaving his second wife, Ooljee, and the children to visit his dying grandfather in California. A decision that forever altered his destiny.

  Finally, Sonny glanced over and acknowledged his presence.

  “Cousin,” he began in Navajo. “I hoped we might speak at length this morning.”