Sweet Savage Heart

by Janelle Taylor

  She nibbled on his lower lip and rubbed her body against his as she stated, “I swear to you I know something about Marissa that can end your worries, but you’ll have to prove I can trust you.”

  Travis eyed her speculatively. “By sleeping with you tonight?” When she nodded, he argued, “Come now, Clarissa; I could sleep with you a hundred times and that wouldn’t prove you could trust me. Don’t you realize by now, if I considered you just another woman, I would bed you without a care. You mean something very special to me, so I can’t use you or treat you lightly. If you can’t understand or accept that, we don’t need to see each other again. I have enough problems right now with the ranch and that little brat without your adding to them. Lordy, woman, you know I don’t see anybody but you.”

  “But you don’t see me enough, Travis,” she wailed greedily.

  “I’ll tell you what. Let me get things straightened out over here and then we’ll start seeing each other more, and talking seriously. I told you I ain’t ready to get married yet, but we might get promised soon if things work out. Like I said, be patient and trust me.”

  “You aren’t teasing me, are you?” she challenged.

  “I don’t see anybody but you, and getting promised would stop you from seeing anybody but me. I’m the one who has to worry, not you. Who could Travis Kincade Crandall choose besides the most beautiful and passionate woman around?”

  Clarissa was mostly taken in by Travis’s silky words, though he had actually been referring to Rana each time. Blinded by vanity and overconfidence, she naturally assumed Travis was smitten with her and would eventually marry her. If he wanted her to behave like a lady, then she would do so, at least around him. She felt he must be anxious to get his hands all over her, and would soon tire of denying himself that pleasure. Now that he was worried over his inheritance, perhaps he would come around to her way of thinking, and perhaps together they could get rid of Nathan and her father and take over both ranches. But she would have to be careful.

  Rana Michaels, Marissa’s little bastard, would never interfere with her plans! If necessary, she would expose the truth about Marissa’s vile birth. Perhaps one day soon she would tell Travis that Marissa was not Nathan Crandall’s daughter and legal heir, and that Rana Michaels was not Nathan’s granddaughter. Perhaps she would tell Travis what Ruth Crandall, Nathan’s beloved wife, had revealed to Sarah Jane Caldwell while in a delirium before she died. Once she had heard Ruth’s secret, Clarissa’s mother had never been able to look Nathan in the eye again. Travis might be relieved, and deliciously grateful, to discover that Ruth had been raped by three outlaws during Nathan’s three-month absence thirty-eight years ago. Ruth had never told Nathan, even though she had borne a child of that brutal assault. Ruth’s fever-dulled mind and loosened lips had even caused her to divulge which of the three villains had been responsible: a flaming-haired, blue-eyed Scotsman who had been called “Red.” The old fool, Nathan, had actually believed that the baby girl named Marissa had arrived over two months early. For a fact, neither Nathan nor Marissa had ever learned about Ruth’s ravishment. If Marissa had known the truth about her birth… But no matter now.

  Perhaps she would tell Travis how Marissa had whored with her father for two years and for her husband for many years. Perhaps she would tell him that Rana was not Raymond Michaels’s daughter, just as Marissa was not Nathan’s child. Perhaps she would tell him who Rana’s real father was. No, that would spoil her plans…

  Travis was gazing inquisitively at the brown-eyed beauty. She had been silent for a long time. Something was running wildly through her head, and he wanted to know all about it. What, he wondered, did she know about Marissa that could affect his life, and Rana’s too? “Like the Indians say, you’ve got a fox running around inside that pretty head. Marissa told you a big secret. What was it?”

  “I’ll tell you another day, my love. I should get home before Papa misses me and your hands think I’m unworthy to become your wife. As you told me, be patient and trusting a while longer.”

  Travis knew it would be a mistake to press her tonight, so he allowed the intriguing matter to drop. “Wait until I saddle Apache; it’s too dangerous for you to be out alone, even if you were anxious to see me. Next time, woman, you control such reckless urges. In spite of what you think, some men aren’t afraid of your papa. Promise me you won’t go riding after dark again.”

  “I’m sorry for behaving so foolishly. I promise,” she whispered, then kissed him ardently. She couldn’t tell him she was safe because the villains worked for her father and would soon be working for her….

  Travis left her then, but he was soon back at her side with Apache and her sorrel. He helped her mount and they rode off together.

  Rana leaned against the house and closed her eyes, which forced her pent-up tears to overflow and stream down her cheeks. How she wished she could have gotten close enough to hear their words, for their behavior had seared her heart. She slipped around the house and climbed inside her room, wishing she had not crawled out her window to spy on Travis and that infuriating female called Clarissa Caldwell. She flung herself across the bed and wept as she recalled how Wild Wind and White Eagle had spent this morning in each other’s arms. Was this woman the “something I have to get straightened out before we can have a serious talk about our life together"?

  Suddenly Rana sat up and scolded herself. No matter how that scene had looked to her, there was probably a logical explanation for it. It was wrong to start doubting her husband, or to renounce him. She must trust him, as he had entreated earlier, and fight for him! If she let this matter pass, it would eat her alive inside. The best thing to do was confront Travis and give him the chance to tell her the truth. Their relationship was too new and special to allow misunderstandings to damage it. She loved Travis, and she believed he loved her; so why should she suffer unnecessarily? Yes, she must give him a chance to defend himself, she decided, just as soon as he returned home.

  Travis and Clarissa headed for the edge of the Circle C Ranch that was nearest the Caldwell house. At a safe distance, the clever Travis told her, “Now you get in that house and stay there. I don’t want anything happening to you. I’ll come by Wednesday or I’ll see you in town Thursday.” He leaned over and kissed her as if feasting on the sweetest mouth of any woman alive. He smiled and waved, then rode away.

  It was late, but Travis was restless tonight, and he decided to ride along the northeast fence line, which had once bordered Sam Kelly’s Box K Ranch. Their largest herd was grazing in that area, and he wanted to nose around before returning to the ranch. Besides, he had some serious thinking and planning to do. He would need to explain to Rana about the Caldwells and obtain her help with duping Clarissa. That wasn’t going to be easy, for what woman in her right mind would want to aid her lover’s pursuit of another woman, even if it was only a false chase? He had to convince Rana that Harrison and Clarissa were dangerous, that they wouldn’t hesitate to destroy anything or anyone who got in their way. Rana was smart and brave; she would understand this predicament and help him, he decided. Squaring his shoulders, he rode off in search of answers, for himself and for the ranch.

  Clarissa made certain that Travis had not hung back after delivering her to her ranch, then she rode off toward the cabin where Wes Monroe and Jackson Hayes were staying. There was only one horse standing near the cabin. She sneaked to a window and peeked inside to find Wes lying naked on a bunk in one corner and, surprisingly, reading a book. She smiled wickedly as she noticed he was alone, which suited her perfectly. When she knocked on the door, Wes answered, wearing nothing but a cotton sheet he had grabbed and wrapped around his hips. She watched him lower his pistol, eye her up and down, then grin pruriently.

  Lacking all modesty, he leaned against the door jamb and asked, “What can I do for you, Miss Caldwell? You can see I wasn’t expecting company, especially the boss’s daughter. Did you need something?”

  Clarissa glanced over his bare shoulder
, as if checking to see if he was alone. “I need to talk about something personal,” she replied, allowing her gaze to roam his face and torso. “Is your partner around?”

  “Nope, and he won’t be back until morning. Why don’t you come inside and take a chair, if you ain’t afraid of me.”

  “I’m not afraid of anyone, Mister Monroe,” she vowed smugly. “But I want this matter to remain between you and me.”

  He motioned her inside and closed the door behind her. “The name’s Wes to such a beautiful woman. Care for a drink?”

  She nodded, then slithered seductively around the room while he fetched a bottle of whiskey and two cups. Clarissa downed the golden liquid easily and quickly, then held out her cup for another drink. She noticed how Wes was watching her as she leisurely sipped the second one. Her gaze drifted over his bare chest and legs and returned to his eyes, eyes that did not conceal his lust for her. Yes, she concluded, this man was deceitful and dangerous, and those evil qualities excited and aroused her. She would ensnare Wes with money and her charms, use him, and be done with him before he realized what was happening. When she was finished with him, she would kill him herself while he was dozing in the afterglow of sated passion, or perhaps kill him at the instant of his final release. That would be one of the most stimulating and erotic moments of her life, to watch a man’s expression shift from the ecstasy of passion as he comprehends the horror of his own death. She licked her lips and smiled. “You mustn’t tell my father or your partner or anyone I came here tonight. This is strictly between us. I want to hire you to do a job for me. How much will your complete loyalty cost me?”

  “What kind of job would a pretty lady like you need doing?” Wes asked, pouring more whiskey into Clarissa’s cup.

  “I need an important man killed,” she stated simply.

  Wes’s face revealed surprise. He eyed her keenly, then grinned. After downing the contents of his cup, he asked, “Who, and why?”

  Clarissa laughed sultrily. She set down her cup, strolled to the door, and opened it. She pressed the center of her back against the frame and, on either side of her hips, clasped the edges of it with her fingers, striking a pose that caused her bosom to jut out noticeably. She rubbed her fingers over the hewn logs behind her, relishing the feel of the biting splinters and rough surface. She looked outside and inhaled the breeze that carried with it the blended odors of wildflowers and grasses. It was dark, for only a quarter moon was shining and clouds concealed most of the stars. Hints of a possible thunderstorm filled the air and she hoped it would strike, for she loved the awesome power of raw nature. The cabin smelled of cheroot smoke, whiskey, gun oil, leather, and masculine sweat: sensual and stimulating fragrances to her. When Wes joined her at the door and leaned against the other side, she murmured, “Do you ever do jobs only for the money and without questions? You didn’t ask how much I’m willing to pay.”

  Wes straightened and stepped toward her. He trailed his fingers up her left arm and down the opening of her shirt until a button halted him. His right hand slipped over one breast and cupped it, then his forefinger and thumb kneaded the taut point between them. He was stirred by her lack of a chemise and the way her peak responded to his touch. He kept staring into Clarissa’s eyes as he made move after move on her body. She returned his gaze, and not once did she attempt to stay his hands or scold him. As Wes’s left hand drifted down the outside of her leg, then made its way up the inside of her thigh, he asked in a hoarse voice, “I always have to know who I’m killing and why, ‘cause some jobs ain’t worth the risks. Money is useless if you’re put in jail or six feet under.” Wes’s hand made contact with a fuzzy patch between Clarissa’s thighs. He realized she wasn’t wearing anything but a shirt and skirt and a pair of boots. Pressing his hardened manhood against her thigh, he began to massage the greedy bud beneath her skirt. “Tell me, Miss Caldwell, what is a beautiful and desirable woman willing to pay for this important man’s life?”

  Clarissa undulated her hips against his hand and responded breathlessly, “Tonight, I only want to know if you’re for hire. In a few weeks, I’ll tell you who and why, and how to do it. First of all, I have to make sure I can trust you to do the job perfectly and secretly.”

  “Unbutton your shirt,” he commanded in a ragged voice. After she obeyed, he replied, “You’ve got a deal, Miss Caldwell, if I like your first payment tonight.” His mouth closed over one breast and his finger slipped inside her moist body.

  Clarissa loosened the sheet and let it fall to the floor. She grasped his manhood and murmured, “I’ll make certain you don’t change your mind, Wes. You do this job for me, and you can name your price.”

  He looked her in the eye and said, “The price is you, woman.”

  Clarissa smiled and drew his mouth to hers…

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was nearing two o’clock when Travis reached the house. He removed his boots at the front door and entered stealthily. Taking the low-burning lantern from the front hallway, he slipped quietly to Rana’s door. Deciding it was too late to disturb her, he went to his room and undressed. Before he could toss the cover aside and lie down, his door opened and Rana came inside, closing it after her entrance, and seeming not to notice that he was standing nude near his bed. Even if she had noticed his condition, it did not seem to trouble or embarrass her or deter her from her purpose.

  The lantern on the bedside table gave off a soft glow, which lovingly bathed her in its adoring light and enhanced the colors of her flaming hair and gray-blue eyes. Without a word or hesitation, she came forward and halted before him, leaving only a few inches separating their bodies as she looked up into his striking face. Her yearning gaze locked with his and each absorbed the bond that stretched between them and encircled them. Only their soft breathing could be heard in the quietness. As if magically transfixed, neither spoke or moved; they just looked at each other, each sensing the other’s matching need.

  A light breeze played with the thin covering over the open window and sent stirring fragrances into the shadowy room. Beyond it, if they had not been so enraptured by each other, they would have heard cattle lowing, night birds and insects singing soulfully, and the distant rumble of thunder. The lantern light danced across their entranced features and susceptible bodies, highlighting certain areas as each admired the appeal of the other. It was as if all else was moving very slowly in an attempt to postpone the intrusions of a new day.

  Travis lifted one hand and tenderly caressed her face, touching and enjoying each arresting feature. Rana did the same to him. They looked, and touched, and savored each other as if mesmerized. Travis’s hands cupped her face and he brushed his lips so lightly over hers that it seemed their mouths were barely touching. His lips drifted lazily over her face, making contact with each rise and fall of its beloved features. His warm respiration was tantalizing at her ear as he buried his nose and hands in her thick hair. His mouth moved across her forehead and kissed each closed eye and then her nose before gently claiming her mouth. The kiss was leisurely and romantic, and ever so gradually he deepened its pressure and intensity, revealing his immense pleasure and yearning. His hands slipped down her neck and across her shoulders and he released the quilt that was wrapped around her, bringing their naked bodies together. His kisses softened once more, for he wanted this stimulating period to stir her thoroughly.

  Rana’s fingers trailed over Travis’s firm yet pliant frame, stopping her and there to caress a bulging muscle or to admire the supple sleekness of his physique. His golden flesh felt so warm and vital, as if she were caressing the soft underbelly of a mighty buck. Her fingers traced over tiny scars that told of his battleriddled life and enormous prowess, and she lovingly touched those that had gone much deeper than his skin. As he nibbled on her neck and shoulder, she nuzzled his ear and the side of his head. It was sheer bliss just to touch him and to be touched by him. Her hands grew bolder in their wanderings, as did his.

  Travis lifted her and placed
her on his bed. After dousing the lantern, he joined her. Time passed as they kissed and caressed and explored sensations that heightened their passions. There were no inhibitions or hesitations, no shame or guilt, but only the richness and beauty of their unique love. Both seemed to want to know every inch on the other’s body, and how it affected the other when that area was touched and kissed in different ways. It was as if they had forever to enjoy this rapturous enlightenment, and as if they had been a part of each other longer than time itself. But fiery desires, which had been kindled so skillfully and rigidly held at a smoldering peak while they savored these stimulating pleasures, gradually seared through their control and ignited their flaming passions into one roaring blaze.

  Their kisses and caresses expressed the depth and urgency of their mutual desire. As their bodies fused into one, Travis murmured against her ear, “I love you, Rana, more than anyone in my life. I waited a long time for someone special to enter my heart. Be mine forever, micante.” He kissed her possessively, hungrily.

  She felt weak and breathless from the intensity of her emotions. “I am yours forever, mihigna. My heart is filled with love for you. Let no one and nothing come between us, or part us.”

  Together they scaled and conquered the heights of blissful ecstasy and, afterward, settled peacefully in each other’s arms. Travis lay on his back and cuddled her snugly against him. He continued to caress her tenderly until his breathing rate was restored to normal. “We have to talk, micante,” he finally murmured, hating to allow anything to intrude on their meager time together, particularly the Caldwells, but knowing he should speak promptly to avoid misunderstanding.

  “About Clarissa Caldwell and her father?” she asked knowingly.

  Travis tensed uncontrollably, and wished he had not. “Lordy, Rana, how do I explain a dirty mess like this? I should have told you about them earlier, but it’s such a bitter matter. It makes me mad every time I see them or think about them, and it riled me good when Clarissa raced her fanny over here tonight. I hope you didn’t get too upset with me for meeting with her outside. By the time I escorted her home, I was so agitated I had to go riding to settle down.” His tone changed noticeably as he continued. “They scare me, Rana, and I don’t scare easily. They’re evil, and cunning, and greedy. I don’t want you getting involved with either one of them, but I doubt that’s possible. Promise me you’ll hear me out before you get mad, ‘cause I’ve done some things and plan to do others that you won’t like.”