by Connie Mason
Her hands came up between them to rest on his chest. Her original intention was to push herself free, but when her palms flattened on his smooth, heated flesh, she could no longer think. With his blunt words and positively scorching gaze, a sizzling heat welled up from somewhere deep inside her.
Pierce ground himself against her, letting her feel the weight of him, the shape, length, and hardness of him. Showing her how much his body wanted her.
Zoey felt the daunting strength of Pierce’s hard body, and her mouth fell open in wordless protest. She didn’t want this. Succumbing to his desires frightened her in so many ways. It wasn’t just the intimacy she feared, it went far deeper than that. Letting Pierce love her would have devastating consequences. She knew intuitively that once Pierce rode out of her life, she’d no longer be the same woman. She couldn’t allow herself to feel anything for this man.
“Let me go, Pierce.”
His answer was to place nipping little kisses along the side of her neck, and to tease her earlobe with his mouth and his tongue, taunting her with what he wanted to do to her.
“Are you a virgin?” he asked, startling her.
“What makes you think I’m not?”
The breath slammed from him. “I’ll be careful with you,” he promised. “I’ve never had a virgin. I wasn’t even the first with my wife.”
Then his mouth settled over hers, hard yet gentle, but oh so determined. Zoey fought the urge to give in to his unspoken demands, but something inside her resisted. This wasn’t a real marriage, it was never meant to be. Then her thoughts scattered as his kiss deepened and his hands found her breasts. Her mouth opened against the pressure of his probing tongue and he thrust inside, savoring her sweet essence.
Realizing she was flirting with fire, Zoey broke off the kiss and pulled away. “No, I won’t let you do that to me!”
Struggling to quell his nearly painful arousal, Pierce took several deep breaths before speaking. His words were clipped and edged with steel. “I’ve never forced a woman in my life. Before I leave, you’ll beg me to bed you. Good night, my love. I wish you the joy of your cold bed.”
Chapter 5
Zoey was waiting for Pierce in the kitchen when he came down to breakfast the next morning. Her greeting was less than enthusiastic. Pierce pretended not to notice, assuming she was still piqued over last night.
“Cully is saddling the horses,” she said. “We can leave for town as soon as you’ve eaten. I’ve made a list of supplies I need. Mr. Schultz, the grocer, is very good about giving credit. Have you written your letter?”
“I wrote it last night after I left your room.” He gave her an evocative glance. “For some reason, I couldn’t sleep.” Half the night had passed before his arousal allowed him to seek his bed.
Zoey’s heart skipped a beat. Pierce wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep last night. The way his hands had burned her flesh aroused her still. She had tossed and turned far into the night, recalling everything she found attractive and exciting about Pierce … every tiny detail. When sleep finally claimed her she dreamed she was lying in Pierce’s arms, experiencing all those things he had promised, even though she had to guess about most of them.
Zoey placed a plate of ham and eggs before Pierce, grateful that he couldn’t read her thoughts. “I’ll wait outside. Come out when you’re ready.”
“Have you eaten?”
“I ate with Cully.”
He eyed her critically. “You’re not going to town dressed like that, are you?” He didn’t mind seeing her in those tight britches, but he didn’t want anyone else staring at her curvy bottom. “You’re a wife now. Dress like one.”
“I beg your pardon?” Her voice shook with anger. “I’ll dress any way I please. You have no right to dictate to me.”
Pierce’s eyebrows shot upward. “Am I or am I not your husband?”
“You are,” she admitted grudgingly.
“Then I suggest you do as I say. I won’t have men looking at you with lust in their eyes. You belong to me. No man has a right to see what’s mine alone to view.”
Zoey nearly laughed aloud. If she didn’t know better, she’d think Pierce was jealous. How absurd. “Have you ever tried riding in skirts?”
“Don’t you have a riding outfit?”
“Britches are more comfortable.”
“Would you rather change with or without my help?”
Hands on hips, Zoey glared at him. “Very well, have it your way.” Then she whirled and marched up the stairs, her bottom swaying provocatively. She didn’t hear Pierce’s frustrated groan.
By the time Pierce finished his breakfast, Zoey had returned to the kitchen wearing a split skirt and crisp white blouse. “Does this suit you, husband?”
Pierce stifled a grin. “That will do quite nicely, wife.” He rose and took her arm. “Shall we go?”
The trip into town was short and uneventful. Within thirty minutes they were riding down the dusty street of Rolling Prairie, dodging dogs, children, and mud puddles.
“I’ll meet you later for lunch. Where’s a good place to eat?” Pierce asked as they separated at the corner.
“The Montana Hotel has the best meals.”
“Meet me there at noon. There are several things I need to do besides mail my letter.”
“Try to stay out of trouble,” Zoey advised.
“I’m not promising anything,” he returned with a grin. “Be sure to tell Mr. Schultz about your new husband. Word will spread fast if it’s fed to the right person. Maybe I’ll stop in to see Willoughby.”
Pierce posted the letter to his brothers first. He had written to ask Chad to send a letter of credit on their bank account in care of general delivery, Rolling Prairie, Montana, as quickly as possible. He also gave a brief explanation of what had happened to him and where he was staying. He made no mention of his marriage.
Pierce left the post office and wandered down the street, introducing himself to each shopkeeper he encountered along the way. When he came to the town’s only saloon, he entered through the swinging door, ambled up to the bar, and ordered a beer. Though the day was still young, several men sat around a table, shooting the breeze.
The bartender slid a beer toward Pierce and asked, “You new in town, mister?”
“You could say that. I married the owner of the Circle F.”
The man’s mouth dropped open. “You married Miss Zoey? Rumor had it she was set to marry Samson Willoughby.”
“Can’t believe everything you hear,” Pierce said. “Reverend Tolly married us over a week ago. I’m looking to hire competent ranch hands for the Circle F. Know anyone who would fit the bill?”
“I’ll ask around.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Morris Kent. People around these parts call me Dude because I’m from back east. Where are you from?”
Pierce shook Dude’s hand. “Pierce Delany. I hail from Wyoming.”
A man sidled up to the bar beside Pierce. “Did I hear you say you married Miss Zoey? Are you running the Circle F now?”
“You heard right. I’m Pierce Delaney, Zoey Fuller’s husband.”
“I’m Bud Prichard. I was ramrod on the Circle F before Robert Fuller up and got himself killed.”
“You’re one of the men who left my wife high and dry when she needed you.” His voice held a note of accusation.
Prichard shifted uncomfortably. “I can’t afford to work for nothing, Mr. Delaney. All the hands up and left when banker Willoughby spread the word that the Circle F was in deep financial trouble and about to go belly-up. I stayed longer than the others, but in the end I was forced to seek work elsewhere.”
Pierce studied Prichard’s face and liked what he saw. Prichard returned his gaze with unwavering honesty. Prichard wasn’t young, but neither was he old. Tough and wiry, the ramrod looked as steady as a rock and fully capable of handling his job.
“Where are you working now?”
“Unfortunately the new job didn’t work out. I’m l
ooking for work.”
“I’m hiring,” Pierce said. “Can you round up a half dozen or so men to work the Circle F? I’m offering top wages. The work won’t be easy, What livestock remains is scattered throughout the hills and must be flushed out. Three hundred head are needed to fulfill the army contract. If you can do that, you can have your old job of ramrod back.”
“Is Cully still at the Circle F?” Prichard wanted to know.
“He’s still there.”
“He’s a good man. A mite old but still a good man to have around. I’ll see what I can do, Mr. Delaney. When do you want us?”
“As soon as possible. Bring them out to the ranch and I’ll decide if they fit the bill.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Delaney.” They shook on it and Pierce left to join Zoey at the hotel. His steps slowed when he passed the bank. A devious smile spread across his face as he opened the door and stepped inside.
Several people were waiting to conduct business. Pierce waited his turn at a teller’s cage.
“May I help you, sir?” the clerk asked when Pierce reached the window.
“I’m thinking of depositing a large sum of money soon and wanted to know how safe my money will be.”
“This is the safest bank in Montana,” the clerk bragged. “All our accounts are strictly confidential and we’ve never had a successful robbery. Is there anything else you require, Mr. …”
“Delaney. Pierce Delaney. I married Zoey Fuller from the Circle F.”
The clerk’s eyes widened. This was indeed news. “Will you be handling Circle F business?”
“I will indeed. I’m infusing some of my own money into the operation. My wife has had a run of bad luck.”
“So I’ve heard,” the clerk said, lowering his gaze.
“Things are changing fast. I’ve taken steps to hire competent help.”
“Excuse me a moment, Mr. Delaney, I’m going to the back room to get some forms for you to fill out You’ll want your name on the Circle F account.”
The clerk disappeared, returning a few moments later with Samson Willoughby. The banker’s face was mottled with rage.
“Come into my office, Delaney. I’d like a private word with you.”
“Of course, as long as it won’t take too long. My wife is waiting for me at the hotel.”
Pierce strolled into Willoughby’s office as if he didn’t have a care in the world. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, giving testimony to Willoughby’s anger.
“I understand you’re hiring hands to work the Circle F.” Willoughby looked at Pierce with loathing. “Ranch hands expect to get paid at the end of each month. What’s all this crap about making a large deposit in my bank? You look like an opportunist to me, Delaney. You married Zoey with the intention of living off the profits from the ranch. Forget it. There are no profits. The ranch will soon be mine, and you can’t do a thing about it.”
Pierce hung on to the tattered remnants of his temper with admirable restraint. “I want you to stop harassing my wife.”
“Zoey was to be my wife. Both the Circle F and Zoey should belong to me. I’ve wanted them both for as long as I can remember. Robert Fuller didn’t approve of me as Zoey’s husband. There isn’t a man in town more suitable than I, but he wanted-his little princess to love the man she married.” He gave Pierce an shrewd look. “Does Zoey love you, Delaney? Or did she marry you simply to thwart me?”
Pierce chose not to answer. “You’ll just have to live with that question, Willoughby. But as long as I’m here, I’d like a look at that mortgage you’re holding on the Circle F.”
“Very well, if you insist.” He opened a file cabinet and took a document from it and removed a folder. He briefly flashed it before Pierce. Pierce caught a glimpse of a signature but had no way of knowing if it belonged to Robert Fuller.
“Believe me when I say this document is authentic,” Willoughby declared as he returned the folder to the file cabinet. “And you’ll know it’s legal when I serve you with foreclosure papers.”
“What if I pay the mortgage off before you foreclose?”
Willoughby gave a snort of laughter. “You don’t look like a man who can scrape up two cents, let alone seven thousand dollars.”
Pierce whistled. Seven thousand dollars was a lot of money, but the ranch was worth three or four times that amount. The acreage was prime, with water and lush grasslands that stretched out endlessly. Zoey’s father had chosen the land with foresight and wisdom.
“Zoey says the land isn’t mortgaged, and I believe her.”
“Zoey is a woman, she doesn’t know everything. Her father preferred not to tell her. A few years back severe weather decimated his entire herd. Then there was a fire that destroyed all the buildings but the main house. The following year his wheat crop failed. He mortgaged the land to pay for new livestock and build the outbuildings now standing.”
All Willoughby’s arguments were sound, Pierce thought. Could Zoey have been mistaken about the mortgage? Pierce didn’t like Willoughby, and didn’t particularly believe him, but everything he said made sense. On the other hand, if Willoughby spoke the truth, why hadn’t Robert Fuller told Zoey about the mortgage? Or at the very least, discussed the problems he was having making ends meet? Zoey swore the mortgage was forged. Somehow Pierce had to obtain the mortgage papers and let Zoey verify the signature.
Of course, Pierce could pay off the mortgage, but it would mean stripping the family holdings of money that belonged to all three brothers. Pierce couldn’t do that.
“Have I managed to convince you that my claim is legal?” Willoughby asked. “It’s senseless to hire men you can’t pay. Besides, they’ll be out of jobs when I foreclose.”
“We’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we, Willoughby? Good day to you. I’ve kept my wife waiting too long as it is.”
“Your wife!” Willoughby spat. “How long will you stick around when she no longer has the ranch?” He was too close to the truth to suit Pierce. One day soon he’d have to leave.
“I can see you’re already thinking about leaving. You don’t look like husband material to me. Your marriage won’t stop me from getting what I want. Men like you don’t stick around. I’ll be here to pick up the pieces long after you’re gone. One way or another, Zoey will be mine. Wife or lover, it doesn’t matter to me. She’ll need a protector after you’re gone.”
Pierce tensed. He didn’t like the sound of that. The thought of Zoey with Willoughby set his teeth on edge. “I can’t stop you from dreaming, Willoughby, but I can and will stop you from hurting Zoey.” His expression was hard and ruthless, giving Willoughby pause. “Now I really must be going. I have one more stop to make.”
Willoughby watched Pierce storm from his office, thinking that there was more to Pierce Delaney than met the eye.
“You’re late,” Zoey said as Pierce joined her in the dining room of the Montana Hotel. “What happened?”
“I hired a ramrod. You know him. His name is Bud Prichard. He promised to round up some cowhands and bring them out to the ranch.”
“Bud Prichard worked for us at one time. Pa trusted him. But how are we going to pay him and the men he brings with him?” Zoey wanted to know. “And what about Willoughby? We don’t know how long we have before he forecloses.”
“We’ll worry about that when the time comes. Have you actually inspected the mortgage document? Have you looked closely at your father’s signature?”
“I saw it briefly. Willoughby showed it to me soon after of Pa’s funeral. I was too stunned to do more than glance at it. I was grieving for my father at the time and couldn’t think clearly. Later, when I asked to see it again, he refused.”
“I had a look at the document today. There was a signature, but I can’t confirm if it was your father’s.”
“What can we do?”
“Let’s order first. I’m starved. I’ve got a plan, but it’s not foolproof. I need to think about it some more.”
“Pierce, I …
don’t know how to thank you.”
He bared his teeth in a feral smile. “I can think of a way. Share my bed tonight.”
Pierce didn’t want Zoey’s gratitude. He wanted her body. He wanted to be inside it. He wanted her naked beneath him, hot and willing, wet and eager for him.
Zoey flushed and looked away. Pierce’s provocative words both thrilled and frightened her. “You know I can’t do that,” she said evasively.
“You’re a coward, Zoey Delaney. I’m not going to wait much longer.”
Just then the waitress came to take their order and Zoey was relieved to turn her attention to something besides Pierce. He was as compelling and complex as the land she loved so dearly.
Pierce sought out Cully when he and Zoey returned home later that afternoon. He found the old man in the barn, repairing tack.
“What kind of shape is the bunkhouse in, Cully?”
Surprised by the question, Cully studied Pierce’s face. “Tolerable. Why?”
“I’m expecting some hands to arrive in the next day or two. See what can be done to make it liveable.”
“Well, I’ll be hog-tied. You done it, Delaney. Never thought I’d live to see the day when good hands would return to the Circle F. How’d you do it?”
“I met Bud Prichard in town. He agreed to round up some hands and bring them out for me to look at. I hired Prichard on the spot and promised him the job of ramrod.”
Cully looked thoughtful. “Prichard’s a good man. He didn’t want to leave when he did, but a man can’t work for nothing. He stayed around longer than the others and left when he was offered another job.”
“I liked him. I hope he doesn’t have trouble finding top ranch hands.”
“I don’t mean to be nosy, but how are you planning to pay for top hands? I know for a fact that Miz Zoey is plumb broke.”
“I have some money,” Pierce said. “I wrote my brothers, asking them to send me a letter of credit. Once the beeves are sold to the army, Zoey will be in good shape financially.”
“Providing enough beeves can be found. What about Willoughby and the mortgage?”