“That’s a good idea.”
Angel shrugged. “I doubt they’re going to take this lying down, and I wanted to make sure they couldn’t put us out of business the same way we did them.”
Ox laughed. “I swear, you think of everything.” He glanced around the cabin again. “If I’d known you were going to go to all this trouble, I’d have stopped at home to take a bath and change clothes”
“I knew you would.” She grabbed his hand and led him over to the screen, which she pulled aside to reveal a large hipbath half full of water. “The rest of the water is heating on the fire right now. It will only take a minute to finish filling it. I’ll put supper on the table while you take your bath.”
“How could a man refuse a deal like that?” A few minutes later, Ox poured the last of the water into the tub, then spent an appreciative moment watching Angel setting food on the table. Damn, a dress like that ought to be illegal. It could kill a man with a weak heart. He grinned. Oh, what a way to die!
Ox pulled the screen in front of the bath and started to unbutton his shirt. Unless he missed his guess, she intended to seduce him; not that he minded. The question was, why? She’d held him at arm’s length for months, panicking every time he got within kissing distance. As he eased himself down into the water, he had a sudden notion. She wasn’t even pretending to be Alexis. Only Angel knew he liked to take a bath as soon as he came in off the trail. Maybe she’d decided to tell him the truth. Ox smiled to himself. If that was the way she wanted it, far be it for him to spoil her plans.
“How about a glass of wine while you soak?” Angel asked from the other side of the screen.
“Sure.”
“Are you in the tub?”
“Yes, indeed.”
Angel’s hand came around the edge of the screen holding the drink.
“I can’t reach it,” Ox said, unable to resist the urge to tease her a bit.
She reached a little farther. “How about now?”
“Nope.”
“Now?” This time her entire arm and part of her shoulder were visible.
“Not quite.”
Her head popped around the screen. “Just as I thought,” she said, when she saw him sitting there grinning at her. “Do you want me to hold it up to your mouth, too?” she asked sarcastically as she walked around the screen and handed him his drink.
“I think I can handle it.” He took a sip and watched her over the rim of his glass. “You know, Angel always scrubbed my back.”
“She did not!”
“What makes you so sure?” He smiled devilishly. “It’s not something I’d tell my sister.”
“You don’t have a sister.” Angel picked up the sponge. “All right, I’ll do your back, but not because I believe you. Lean forward.”
Ox braced his arms on his knees and Angel dipped the sponge down into the water. She stroked it slowly across the top of his shoulders and let the rivulets of water run down the contours of his back. Lovingly, she traced muscles developed by years of driving large teams of mules and unloading heavy freight.
Angel thoroughly washed the expanse, covering every inch of it at least three times as Ox resisted the urge to arch his back and purr like a cat. Then she moved over his shoulders and down onto his chest. Ox obligingly leaned back in the tub and gave her access. If she’d found his back alluring, she appeared to think his chest downright bewitching.
The dark springy curls flattened out and stuck to his skin when the water from the sponge hit them but popped back up almost immediately. Angel seemed utterly captivated and repeated the experiment several times. But when she started to follow the thin line of hair that wandered down over his belly, Ox grabbed her hand.
“If you continue what you’re doing, supper will be delayed significantly.”
“We can’t let that happen, can we?” she whispered, leaning forward to brush his lips with her own. “Here you go,” she said a moment later as she smacked the sponge against his chest and stood up. “You can finish up by yourself.”
Watching her walk away with an exaggerated swing of her hips, Ox chuckled to himself.
“Supper will be served in ten minutes.” She looked back over her shoulder. “With or without you, so you’d better hustle your bustle.”
Ox laughed outright at that and picked up the soap.
On the other side of the screen, Angel leaned against the wall and took several deep, steadying breaths. The sound of splashing water brought dangerously erotic images to mind. So much for revealing her true identity while he was in the bath. Who would have thought something as innocent as washing his back would affect her so!
“What am I supposed to wear?” he called out. “Shall I wrap myself in a quilt, like I did the first time we were here?”
“I laid out some clothes on the chair.”
“You keep a supply of men’s clothing on hand?”
“They’re Duncan’s,” she lied. In reality, they were Brandon’s, lent to her by Alexis. One hint of what Angel had in mind, and her sister had gone out of her way to make the evening a smashing success.
“The vest and coat are a lost cause,” he said a few minutes later, “but the shirt’s almost big enough.” Ox came out, rolling the sleeves to his elbows. “Duncan must have been a mite smaller man.”
“He was,” Angel said faintly. Brandon obviously was, too. The shirt managed to stretch clear across Ox’s chest, but the seams at the shoulders were strained to the limit. He hadn’t been able to fasten the top two buttons, so it gaped open invitingly. Angel had a difficult time tearing her eyes away.
“I’m ready and with several minutes to spare,” he said, eyeing the table. “This looks great. Martha outdid herself.”
Angel blinked, then focused on his face. “What?”
“Supper?” he said, as he pulled out her chair for her. “I said, Martha sent quite a feast for us.”
“Oh. To tell the truth, I did it myself. I thought we deserved to celebrate after we worked so hard.”
Ox pulled out his own chair and sat down. “I certainly can’t find fault with that. What’s the plan for tomorrow?”
“The meeting is set for ten o’clock sharp at the office of The Flying T.”
“I thought we’d decided to meet at The Silver Springs Express.”
Angel snapped her napkin open and laid it across her lap. “I believe your grandfather said he wouldn’t set foot in any place belonging to those damn thieving Bradys or something to that effect. Sam didn’t give me the particulars.”
Ox looked thoughtful. “I wonder if we can make him mad enough to disown me.”
Angel grinned. “We might just do that, especially if he doesn’t know about your mother yet. What do you say we make an entrance ten or fifteen minutes late? It will drive my father crazy.”
The meal passed quickly as they discussed the coming confrontation and made plans. From there, they moved on to Sam and Jessie. Angel’s attention continuously strayed to the open neck of Ox’s shirt and to his bare forearms. It was all she could do to concentrate on the conversation.
“So, how are Sam and Jessie doing?” Ox finished his last bite of pie and laid his fork on his plate. “They were still trying to decide whether Jessie would continue singing when I left,” Ox said, picking up his wine glass.
“As far as I know, they still haven’t completely resolved it.” Angel leaned her chin on her hand as her gaze traced the length of his forearm. “I think Sam has finally convinced her she has an obligation to share that extraordinary voice of hers, but she still wants to spend at least part of the time here.”
“They’ll work it out somehow. As long as they have each other, they’ll be fine.”
“Mmmhuh,” Angel mumbled, studying the dark hairs on his arm. She remembered how incredibly soft they were against her skin and imagined herself wrapped in his embrace again. The picture was a tempting one indeed. His arms were so strong—
“Do you have any idea what that does to me?” Ox
murmured.
“Wh...what?” Angel’s startled gaze flew to his face.
“I can’t carry on a normal conversation when you look at me that way,” Ox rose to his feet and walked around the table. “It makes my heart pound so hard, I’m afraid it will come right out of my chest.” His voice was a soft, husky whisper as he took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “All I can think of is how badly I want to kiss you.”
“Y...you do?“
He cupped her face with his hands and gazed down into smoky gray eyes.
“More than you can possibly know,” he said against her lips. The first touch was tentative and uncertain, like the whisper of an early morning mist across the water.
Her mouth was warm and lush as her lips moved against his, caressing them in loving response. Angel’s hands trembled where they lay against the hard plane of his chest.
Ox raised his head and lovingly ran his thumb along the line of her jaw. “You’re so beautiful.”
“So are you.” She reached up to touch the scar on his cheek. “Ox, I need to—”
“I know, sweetheart, so do I,” he whispered as her fingers went to the buttons on his chest. “So do I.” He took a deep, shuddering breath when his shirt fell open. With the sweet fragrance of roses surrounding them, Angel pushed the garment off his broad shoulders and down over the thick muscles of his arms. The shirt fell to the floor, forgotten as she ran her hands over his chest, tangling her fingers in the dark silky hair.
“You’re incredible,” she breathed, gazing at him in awe. With slow deliberation, she leaned forward to flick the hollow of his throat with her tongue.
He groaned and pulled her into his embrace. “Are you trying to drive me insane?”
Angel put her arms around his neck and snuggled closer. “No, just make you a little crazy.” She rubbed her cheek against his chest.
“The dress already did that,” he murmured, his fingers following the column of her throat to the neckline. “A dress like this could kill a man with a weak heart,” he whispered against the sensitive skin beneath her ear. He undid the row of tiny buttons with exquisite care, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin beneath and leaving a trail of fire.
Mesmerized, Angel gazed into the emerald green of his eyes as he eased the fabric down over her shoulders. The sensual caress of his fingers sent her heart skittering against her ribs. With a whisper of silk, the garment slipped to the floor, and Ox scooped her up in his arms. “But oh, what a way to die!”
Their gazes locked in smoldering anticipation. “Are you planning to have your wicked way with me?” she asked as he carried her the few remaining feet to the bed.
“Why? Did you have something else in mind?”
Angel shrugged as she traced the inside of his ear with her finger. “Only if you’d rather play a game of cards.”
“Maybe later,” he said, flopping backward onto the bed with her on top. “Right now, I think I’d rather lie down.”
She wriggled her body against his. “Are you tired?”
“Not even close.” Ox pulled her head down for a long, leisurely kiss. “How about you? Are you ready for a nap?” he whispered against her lips.
“I’ve never been less sleepy in my life.”
“Hmm, no cards,” Ox said, rolling to his side, “and neither of us feels like sleeping.” He pulled the tiny little bow at the top of her shift. “Guess we’ll have to think of something else.”
“Any ideas?”
“A few.” Ox caressed the curve of her hip with his hand. “Maybe we’ll improvise as we go.”
Angel walked her fingers up his chest. “I like the sound of that.”
“I thought you might,” he murmured. His lips softly traced the swell of her breasts, then returned to her mouth. The teasing mood disappeared in an instant as the kiss intensified. While the first fingers of desire began to unfurl, an odd idea flitted through Angel’s mind. Ox seemed to know her body better than she did. A touch here, a kiss there, he played her like a finely tuned violin, creating a symphony of erotic responses Angel had never even suspected were possible.
They dispatched each other’s clothing in the most sensual way possible, kissing each bit of skin as it was revealed. Even the tips of their toes came into play, as Angel traced the length of a muscular calf with her foot. “I could touch you like this all night,” she whispered against the column of his neck.
“Please do,” he murmured as her lips began an exploratory trip of his body. He managed to lie still beneath her questing touch across his chest and ribs, but when her tongue dipped into the hollow of his navel, he groaned and rolled her to her back. “Have mercy, woman.”
“You said I could do it all night.”
“I changed my mind,” he breathed against her ear. “I love you,” he said in a soft sexy rumble. “I think I have since the beginning, I just didn’t realize it.” With infinite tenderness, he kissed her forehead, her eyelids and the tip of her nose. Her legs parted instinctively, and he entered her with one smooth thrust.
Angel struggled to focus on his words. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“Your sister kept getting in the way,” he whispered as he covered her mouth with his own.
Determined to make it an experience they would both remember for years to come, Ox used every bit of expertise he had, making it last as long as he could. Angel responded with the pent-up passion of a lifetime. It was more than a joining of their bodies as their souls touched, expanded, and intermingled into one. The world ceased to exist as they lost themselves completely. All too soon, they reached the top and fell away into sweet oblivion.
Ox wrapped his arms around her and rolled to his side. He closed his eyes and lay there, stroking her hair as their breathing slowed. “This time, when I ask you to marry me, I’m not going to take no for an answer.”
Angel snuggled closer into his embrace. “Oh, Ox, for heaven’s sake. It’s not like you ravished some sweet little innocent. I went to great lengths to seduce you, and I got exactly what I wanted. Now hush, and let me take that nap you offered me a while ago.”
He grinned down at her. “Tired?”
“Mmmhuh.”
“We have a few things to discuss.”
Angel opened one eye. “I’ve heard there are two kinds of men, ones who want to talk after they make love and ones who want to sleep. Just my luck to get stuck with a talker.”
Ox chuckled. “Sleep now, talk later?”
“Great idea.” She yawned. “Wish I’d thought of it myself.”
“All right,” he said, setting his chin on top of her head. “But after that, we talk.”
After his week-long search and very little sleep, Ox slept soundly. He barely stirred when Angel slipped out of his embrace several hours before dawn. She put a pillow on the bed next to him and sighed in relief when he seemed to accept it as her replacement.
The candles had long since guttered out, but the full moon bathed the cabin in a silver light. Her breath caught in her throat; he was so beautiful lying there.
For a while tonight, she had thought Martha was right, that Ox would understand the deception and forgive her. But then he’d driven a knife straight into her heart. He’d never said he loved her because her sister kept getting in the way. Her sister...to Ox, that meant Angel.
Angel wondered if the tightness in her chest was her heart breaking as she dressed and let herself out. Unable to resist, she turned at the door for one last look at the sleeping man. “I love you,” she whispered past the huge knot in her throat, then turned to go. She was almost to the buggy before the tears spilled over.
Chapter 39
“Treenery!” Richard Brady’s angry voice filled the small office of The Flying T. “Damn it, Treenery, where are you?”
“I’m right here, Brady.”
“Well, well, well,” Richard said as James Treenery stomped in, “I might have known you’d be here.”
Treenery glared at his former partner. “I was under
the impression that was what you wanted.”
“I assumed your double-dealing grandson would handle this, just like he has everything else.”
“Don’t waste your time trying to insult me, Brady.” James Treenery tossed his hat on the desk. “Let’s just get down to business, shall we?”
“Fine by me. You may as well know, I have no intention of selling out to you.”
Treenery gave a humorless laugh. “What a surprise. Is this when you offer to buy my share of this worthless business?”
“That’s almost funny coming from you,” Brady said. “All right, Treenery, enough of this nonsense. Your telegram said we were here to discuss terms. Let’s just get to it.”
“I didn’t send you a telegram.” Treenery frowned. “In fact, I headed out here when I got your message.”
“What message?”
“The one that said The Flying T was going on the auction block to pay off its creditors,” Treenery said. “Was there another?”
“I didn’t send that, you did.”
“Nice try, Brady. We both know otherwise, don’t we?”
“Hell no!” Richard Brady said. “You—”
“Good morning, gentlemen,” interrupted a third voice as Joe Simkins and Sam walked in together. “We weren’t expecting you both to arrive so early.” Simkins set a small satchel on the desk.
“Who the hell are you?” Treenery asked, glowering at the newcomers.
“The big one is the front man for The Silver Springs Express,” said Richard Brady. “As if you didn’t know.”
“How the devil should I know who he is?” Treenery demanded. “He obviously works for you.”
“Of all the—”
Simkins held up his hand. “Gentlemen, gentlemen, there’s no need to argue. We don’t work for either of you; we represent the owners of The Silver Springs Express. My name is Joe Simkins, and this is Sam Collins. Please, have a seat, and we’ll get down to business.”
Brady and Treenery looked at each other.
“You don’t own The Silver Springs Express?” James Treenery asked Brady suspiciously.
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