California Caress (19 page)

With feather-light fingers, he pushed away the chestnut waves hiding her beauty from view. His gaze feasted on flawless perfection before his lips lowered to tease the shell-pink nipple.

Hope sighed and instinctively arched into his long, hard length. He felt wonderful, more wonderful than she had imagined in her dreams. She could feel his need pulsing against her thigh, and she shyly launched an investigation.

Delicate fingers slipped beneath the collar of his shirt, and Hope savored the feel of him as her hands slipped over his shoulders and back. His flesh was hard, firm, deliciously enticing, every muscle she encountered alive with motion.

The buttons of his shirt slipped free with amazing ease, and soon she found more pleasures to be explored. The taut stomach tightened then relaxed as she let her hands rove over that sun-kissed stretch of flesh. The back of her fingers strayed over the side of his ribs, slipping beneath his arms until she was again free to explore the sinewy back.

And that neck! How could she resist such an inviting cord of flesh? His skin was deliciously warm beneath her lips, and tasted of fresh rainwater. Her tongue flickered over the sensitive ear, playfully nibbling on the soft lobe before shifting her exploration to its inner recesses.

Drake moaned softly and buried his face in the luxurious blanket of her hair. No sooner had his lips left her than his hand took up the investigation, his palm cupping a delicate mound of flesh. Sparks of delight twisted up Hope’s spine as she arched against him. Her fingers clung to the sun-kissed back as she tried to melt her body into his.

The rock-solid weight of him covered half her body, pushing her against the hard earth. The sensation ignited new sparks of awareness. A tug at the clothes around her waist made her lift her hips enough for the dress and chemise to be peeled away. In a matter of seconds, he had stripped away their clothes and tossed them into a crumpled heap by her feet.

The cool afternoon air washed over her body. Shivering, she curled into Drake, seeking and receiving his warmth.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered into her hair, as he pulled her close against his side.

For the first time in her life, Hope believed it. In his arms, she felt beautiful.

His hand slipped down her back, over the scarred flesh, settling on her hip. He let his tongue slide in a hot, moist path down the column of her throat, hesitating on the hollow where her pulse beat out a frantic tempo, then slipping lower. The soft curves pressing against him were enough to drive Drake to distraction, but he held his fervent passion in check, slow and steady, as his lips settled on a rosy bud.

Hope tangled her fingers in his hair. A throaty moan escaped her softly parted lips as she closed her eyes and surrendered herself fully to the warm, throbbing need that pooled in her stomach and spread lower at an alarming rate.

One foot slipped up the back his calf. The coarse golden curls that clung to the skin there tickled the delicate arch of her sole. Her foot rose higher, gliding over a firm thigh before she wrapped her leg around the lean hips. A tremor passed through him, and she savored the provocative realization that her effect on him was equal to the tantalizing effect he had on her. The knowledge was heady. It fed her determination to return the pleasure his caresses brought, tenfold.

Coyly at first, she extended her range of exploration. The feel of his skin gliding beneath her palm brought forth a tingling sensation all its own. It was enough encouragement for her timid strokes to grow bolder. The firm path of his side passed beneath her hand, as did a sinewy hip and the back of an upper thigh.

She gloried in the feel of his weathered flesh, the clean rainwater scent of him. His fingers forged a trail of their own, and she quivered wherever he touched her. His strokes seared a torrid path between the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. She opened to him without restraint, arching against his hand.

Skillfully, he kindled her passion until Hope thought she would go crazy with want. Shifting his weight, his hands retreated, gripping the sides of her hips. His mouth caught her gasp of surprised ecstasy as he slipped between her thighs, plunging into the warm, moist recess of her soul.

Hope stiffened. Bitter disappointment formed crystal tears in her eyes, as the sharp pain pierced her. What cruel trick of nature was this?

Drake shifted so his weight was supported by the elbows flanking her shoulders. He lifted his head and lost himself to the tear-filled, brown velvet gaze. Once he was sure the pain had subsided, he began carefully moving inside her. His heart plunged, then rose to the highest peak when he saw the betrayal leave her eyes, replaced by a hooded passion that made her gaze come alive once more.

A tempo older than time was struck, and she met each thrust with a frantic desire. Every beat of his heart led her higher, pulling her into a spiral of ecstasy that promised eternal gratification with each glorious thrust and retreat.

They topped the clouds as one, soaring together, their passion simultaneously exploding into pulsating bursts of rapture.

Hope clung to the wondrous sensations as long as she could, reluctant to abandon the waves of satisfaction that washed over her body. Her body basked in the aftermath of the deliciously erotic sensations, and when Drake groaned and collapsed atop her, spent, she accepted his weight without complaint. Never in her life had she felt anything as wonderful as the male hardness pressing against her.

Wrapping her arms around his back, she hugged him close. She was afraid to let go, afraid she would wake to find their love had been nothing more than a dream.

“No,” she cried when he started to pull away. Her voice was still low, still husky from newly quenched passion. “Please, don’t leave me. Not yet.”

Every muscle in his body tightened as he withdrew from her softness. Relaxation returned only after he had stretched out on the cloak of black wool and pulled to his side the soft body that glowed with the contentment of their lovemaking.

“I’m not going anywhere, sunshine,” he whispered, his breath in her ear as he nuzzled her neck.

Hope snuggled against him, provocatively draping a leg over his thighs as she pulled the edge of her cloak over the lower half of their bodies. There wasn’t enough free material to cover them completely. It didn’t matter. The feel of his warm arms around her, and the drumming of his heart beneath her ear was all she needed. The air around them could have registered thirty degrees below zero, and still Hope doubted the blood pumping through her veins would have acknowledged the cold.

“Keep wiggling around like that and Luke will have to build another shed. We won’t be leaving,” he teased his voice thick with passion.

Hope grinned. Her teeth nipped playfully at a hard male nipple as she reached across him and plucked up a stalk of hay. Slowly, she ran it over the rich pelt of hair lining his chest.

Drake closed his eyes and sucked in a ragged breath, groaning as the piece of hay traveled the taut line of his stomach; and lower still.

Her wrist was snatched in a steely grip. In one lithe motion she was tossed onto her back, with Drake’s eagle sharp face looming above.

Instead of fear, her gaze twinkled with mischief. “Why, Mistah Fraziah, whatever are ya doin’?” She batted the thick fringe of lashes as her dark brows rose in feigned innocence. “Surely y’all wouldn’t think a takin’ advantage of a sweet little gal like mahself?”

“That’s exactly what I’m thinking. Come here,” he growled, snatching the stalk of hay from her fingers and lowering his lips to hers.

She giggled as she surrendered herself to the searing demand of his kiss, and his own sensuous form of revenge.

Sitting with his back propped against the sturdy trunk of a maple, Tyrone Tubbs pulled one knee up and rested his elbow atop it. A half-smoked cigar dangled from his fingers and a cloud of smoke poured from his lips, floating up to join the gray thunderclouds marring the sky.

An occasional drop of rain threaded its way through the branches overhead, but for the most part the lush ceiling of leaves kept him dry, if not warm. It didn’t matter. Wet or dry, warm or cold, his job was almost at an end. By tomorrow he’d be aboard a ship set for Boston, eager to claim the second portion of his fee, money for a job well done. And by tomorrow, his job
would
be done.

Sighing, Tubbs took another drag off the cigar. It was a cheap brand of tobacco that left a bitter taste on his tongue. Today it was all he could afford, but tomorrow would be different. Tomorrow he’d have the money to indulge in a box of the richest cigars San Francisco had to offer. It would be his first order of business, after he’d booked passage on the elegant clipper ship slotted to set sail at noon.

Tomorrow, Tubbs thought. Exhaling, he tossed the distasteful cigar into a puddle. He watched as the glowing tip sizzled out.

Glancing over his shoulder, his gaze narrowed on the largest in the long row of grubby cabins. Smoke curled in wisps from the stone chimney, carrying with it the tangy scent of baking pie. A rare delicacy, to be sure. Too bad they wouldn’t have the chance to enjoy it. An evil smile curled over his lips as he tapped a finger against the jug by his side.

As on the nights before, Frazier had returned with the rest of the men; they’d come home earlier tonight because of the foul weather. He’d been in there almost half an hour now. These days the gunslinger took the majority of his meals with the Bennetts. Chances were, he wouldn’t be out soon. But Tubbs wasn’t a man who took chances. Especially life-threatening ones. He’d learned
that
lesson weeks ago.

Taking potshots at the gunslinger from a hotel window as the man was riding out to the mines hadn’t been one of Tubbs’ most brilliant ideas. At the time, it had been an opportunity too good to pass up. Now he could see it for the stupid move it was. Luck was the only thing that had kept Frazier from seeing and recognizing him—luck and distance. Tubbs wouldn’t stretch his luck a second time.

Two weeks, that mistake had cost him. Two weeks of lying low, waiting for Frazier to make a mistake. Two weeks of skulking in alleys and spending his money gaming and whoring in The Brass Button Tavern while he marked Frazier’s comings and goings. Looking back, he had to admit the time had paid off. He now knew Drake Frazier’s schedule better than the gunslinger knew it himself. And he knew Frazier’s weakness.

His eyes glistened when he thought of the arrogant woman who’d gypped him out of four hundred bucks worth of nuggets. His fingers itched over the cloth he’d stuck in the glass jug’s neck. He wouldn’t be sorry to see the last of that little bitch. His only regret was that he wouldn’t get the payment he deserved for getting rid of her as well.

Tubbs chuckled as he stuck a piece of grass between his teeth. A drop of rain fell off a leaf, splashing on the worn leather of his hat. No, he wouldn’t get a thing for taking her out. He’d just have to drown his regret at that slight with the money he’d earn for ridding the world of Drake Frazier.

Fifteen minutes. He’d give the gunslinger fifteen minutes to show his ugly face. If he wasn’t out by then, it was a safe enough bet the guy wouldn’t leave the cabin until well into the night.

Again, Tubbs chuckled. The ominous sound rivaled the nervous whicker of the horses he’d tethered behind the granite boulder. They were workhorses, each one as poor an excuse for horseflesh as ever he’d seen. But they had been cheap, he reminded himself as he spit out the grass. They might be old nags ready for slaughter, but they’d do the job just fine.

He pulled another stale cigar from his pocket and stuck it in his mouth, rolling it over his tongue before clamping it between his teeth. Yup, fifteen minutes and Drake Frazier wouldn’t be going anywhere.

“I didn’t bring you out here for this,” Hope said, her voice a tentative whisper, as she let her fingers trace a path down his breastbone. Her fingertips stopped just short of his navel and she chanced a glance at him from beneath hooded lashes.

“You brought me out here to show off those wretched hens,” he reminded her lightly. Snatching up her hand, he brought the fingers to his lips. Their gazes met, and when Drake saw the serious glint in her dark eyes, his expression sobered. “Why did you bring me out here, sunshine?”

The newborn honesty between them felt right, too fragile to tamper with. She rested her chin atop the hand pillowed on his chest as she sent him a small half-smile. “I wanted to tell you I planned to welch on the rest of our deal.”

One golden eyebrow cocked high in that broad forehead and she couldn’t resist the temptation to reach up and brush the tousled hair from his brow. “Our deal,” he said, his tone low and guarded. “It always comes back to that, doesn’t it?”

Hope felt his thoughts as though they were her own. The hand on his brow turned to caress his cheek, her eyes softly searching. “Don’t get defensive on me now, Drake. I’m here because here is where I want to be. I want to be in your arms. I—” Her voice cracked and she turned her face away. “I just never thought you—that
any
man would ever want me. I’m... I’m not—”

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered huskily, covering her hand with his own. He planted a soft kiss in her palm. “Every single inch of you.”

Hope swallowed hard, her smile waning. “When you say that, I can almost let myself believe it.”

“Believe it. I don’t lie.”

“But—”

“I said I don’t lie.”

As he spoke, his fingers trailed a path down her back. Hope’s breath caught as she waited for his reaction. There was none. His expression didn’t change, the intense emotion reflected in his eyes remained. Was it possible her scars truly meant nothing to him? There was a way to find out, though she was reluctant to try it.

Sighing, Hope dropped her head back to his chest. His flesh felt warm beneath her cheek. She savored the bittersweet sensation. She tried to memorize the sound of his heart drumming its gentle rhythm beneath her ear, terrified this might be the last time she would ever feel his body pressed intimately against her own.
Say it and get it over with, Hope,
she told herself.
It’s the only way you’ll ever know for sure.