Cowboys 08 - Luke (35 page)

"Of course I can. You've had me at your mercy, but you've always protected me. Now that you've stopped hating me, you're the perfect person."

"I never hated you." He had to stop speaking his thoughts. There was no telling what he'd say next.

"Yes, you did. But after you attacked Fred, I knew you liked me."

Luke's food stuck in his throat. It would be foolish to deny that his feelings had changed. It would be foolhardy to tell her how much. "I wouldn't be doing my job if I let some jerk like Fred put his hands all over you."

She smiled. "You could have told him to stop. Or pulled a gun on him."

"Alice Brightman doesn't allow guns in her dining room."

Her smile didn't waver. "I didn't know it was possible for a man to jump across a table that wide. It made me think of a lion protecting its mate."

What was she playing at? Valeria had never acted like she was trying to seduce him. She just sat there, smiling, putting bits of food between her luscious lips, chewing with slow deliberation, her gaze never leaving him. He felt the blood stir in his groin. His cramped position was uncomfortable now, but he couldn't move to release the pressure without disclosing his condition.

She put her plate down, her meal unfinished. "If you're ready, I'd like that massage now."

She practically purred. When has she changed from a stiff, demanding princess into a siren? She spread her bedroll out and lay down on her stomach.

"It's not as bad as before," she said. "It won't take nearly so long."

Even a second's contact would be too much. He considered refusing, but he went like a lamb to the slaughter. He decided to start with her shoulders; they were the least likely part of her body to push him over the edge.

Just touching her was enough to arouse every nerve. Talk. Maybe if he could carry on a conversation he could last until her damned, lovely, sweet muscles were relaxed.

"Was today a better day in the saddle?" he asked. "Much better. My bottom doesn't hurt nearly so much."

Already they were headed in the wrong direction. His gaze was drawn toward her bottom, to the swell that rose gently from the small of her waist and fell in a beautifully rounded curve until it joined her thigh. A shudder of desire ran through him.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, looking up at him with genuine concern.

"No."

"You're shaking."

"I put my knee down on a sharp rock."

He moved his hands down to her back. He knew the muscles that got the tightest from holding the reins all day ran down and across the back. But in order to massage all of them, his fingertips would come perilously close to her breasts. This wasn't at all like the time on the mountain when he was trying to teach her a lesson. There was no anger or frustration to protect him. He was filled with a raging desire that burned through his body like a fever.

He worked over the muscles in her back quickly, then sat back. "It's getting late. You ought to turn in early.

We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

"Aren't you going to massage my thighs?" she asked. "They're stiff, too?"

"More than anything else."

He couldn't be mistaken, not even in the fading light. Hers was a flirtatious, provocative smile. He'd seen enough of them to know.

When he touched her thighs, he felt all control fall away. He was at the mercy of his physical wants. And his physical self demanded prolonged contact with Valeria. He massaged her thighs in a kind of trance, up and down, up and down. He moved to her calves, then back to her thighs. His hands reached the curve of her buttock when

"I feel relaxed enough to sleep now."

He felt something pop, and he came out of the trance. He didn't know how long he'd been massaging her thighs. Judging from the depth of the darkness and the dying embers of the fire, he'd spent at least twice as long as needed.

Valeria sat up. He started to move away, but she took hold of his arm. "I know I shouldn't have asked-you've got to be as tired as I am-but I appreciate what you did. It was very sweet."

Then she leaned forward and kissed him.

He was lost. He grabbed Valeria and kissed her with a ruthlessness equal to the effort he'd exerted to keep away from her. He pushed her back down on the bedroll, devoured her mouth with the hunger of a starving man. He felt like he was mad, crazed, incapable of getting enough of her to satisfy the hunger that raged in him.

His hands, so recently denied their goal, covered her breasts. The thin material of her dress did little to shield him from her softness. A low, guttural moan escaped him. He deserted her mouth for her neck and shoulder. But that wasn't enough. He'd been kept from his obsession for too long. His hand plunged into her bodice to cup her breast.

Valeria's gasp of surprise restored him to sanity.

Luke practically threw himself from her, horrified Je'd completely lost control of himself. It had never happened

before. He'd taken pride in that fact. Yet now he'd acted like an animal, a ravening beast.

He got to his feet, moved away. "I shouldn't have done that," he said, his voice tight with the effort to speak. "I promised you'd be safe, and I broke my promise."

"I'm safe." Valeria looked a little bemused, but she didn't look frightened or angry.

"You wouldn't have been in about three minutes. I'll go water the horses. It would be best if you were asleep by the time I get back."

"You didn't do anything so terrible."

"I broke my word. I've never done that before."

He left without giving her a chance to say anything that could enable him to excuse himself. What he'd done was inexcusable. It didn't matter that probably no one else would ever know. He knew and that was what counted.

The iron-shod hooves of the horses striking stones sent occasional sparks shooting into the night. Just like him and Valeria. They couldn't come together without sparks. He'd known that the day he met her in the hotel room. When she sent Otto to tell him she'd fired him. When he talked other guides into being unavailable. When he convinced the miners to be quiet. He'd never had more obvious signs of trouble ahead. Yet he'd let Hans talk him into waiting until she was forced to ask him to come back.

And he had.

Zeke's knowing he'd made a mistake should have been a dead giveaway. What Zeke knew about women would evaporate in a thimble. What the hell was it about Valeria that made it impossible for him to put her out of his mind?

It wasn't just her looks. Beautiful, raven-haired princesses weren't exactly common, but he'd had his share

of beautiful women. It wasn't her figure. Nice as it was, it wasn't spectacular. It certainly wasn't the fact she was rich or a princess. Those were the two most compelling reasons to have nothing to do with her. Certainly it wasn't her pleasing manner. She hadn't shown any liking for him in the beginning.

Then what the hell was it?

He'd reached the tiny trickle of water that passed for a creek. The horses walked into the creek bed, searching for a small pool from which to drink. Luke sat down on a boulder next to a willow tree to wait until they had drunk their fill.

The moon bathed the canyon in its soft light. The soft gurgle of water flowing around rocks, the peaceful solitude, should have worked to soothe Luke's troubled spirit.

But they didn't.

He hadn't lost his honor, but he'd compromised the one thing he'd held onto from the day he'd left Jake and Isabelle's ranch. His reputation was no longer beyond question. He couldn't be depended on to do what he said, regardless of the risks. His own feelings had gotten out of control. What if she decided to marry Rudolf after all? He'd have to kill him.

Suppose she wanted to run the ranch on her own? He'd have to stay and help her.

He was a fool! She'd go to New York and make a big splash in society. That's where an ex-princess belonged. He didn't know people in New York. He couldn't help her there. They would have to separate.

So that's what he ought to encourage her to do.

But no sooner had he reached that conclusion than he started to worry about the sharks who would try to strip of her of her money, the rakes anxious to take her honor, the hangers-on willing to flatter and praise until the money ran out, men swearing eternal love and devotion who only wanted her for her title. She couldn't have any instincts for self-preservation, not if she would trust him.

Where would she be safe?

Her uncle still wanted to kill her, and getting married was no guarantee she'd be safe. Luke knew of more than one wife who'd died mysteriously, leaving her husband the sole beneficiary to her fortune.

Luke told himself it wasn't his problem, that once he delivered her to the ranch his responsibility would be over. But he couldn't turn his back on her. He'd been responsible for telling her about the opportunities in America, whetting her appetite for freedoms she'd never enjoyed. She hadn't been thinking of duty tonight when she'd kissed him.

She had developed a whole new way of looking at men, and he was responsible for it. Now that he'd ruined her for her old life, it was his responsibility to see her safely settled into a new one. It didn't matter that staying away from her would be the hardest thing he'd ever done. He had to do it. It was the only way he could reclaim his honor.

But how could he help her?

Luke went through several possible plans in exhaustive detail, going backward and forward as he discovered problems and worked toward possible solutions. He didn't know how long he might have remained there, absorbed in thought, if a horned owl hadn't captured a wood rat practically under his feet. The fluttering of wings and the squeak of the rat brought him out of his musings. He looked up. The horses had left the stream and were searching the slope for grass.

Luke got to his feet. Valeria had surely gone to sleep long ago. He hoped that would be enough to keep him on his side of the campfire. If he could just get through these next few days, he'd be okay. If she refused to marry Rudolf and didn't want to stay at the ranch, he could take her to a city, hire a companion or maid, and settle her in a boardinghouse with some woman like Mrs. Brightman to take care of her.

He'd be safe then.

He didn't allow himself to look in Valeria's direction when he reached camp. He busied himself with the horses. He gathered extra wood for the fire. But as he laid the limbs on the still-glowing coals, he couldn't resist any longer. He raised his gaze to Valeria's bedroll.

It was empty.

That was so unexpected that for a moment he didn't know what to think. She couldn't have gotten mad and gone off in a huff. There was nowhere to go. She wouldn't be hiding from him. She was afraid of wild animals. She couldn't have run away because he had both horses.

Luke searched behind boulders, under trees, along the creek more than a hundred yards in both directions, thinking she might have wanted to take a bath in private, but he couldn't find her.

Valeria had disappeared.

Chapter Twenty-one

Valeria had begun to wonder about the wisdom of her strategy long before she saw the lights of the small town nestled in the bottom of the valley. She breathed a sigh of relief. At least she wouldn't be devoured by a mountain lion before Luke found her. She had assumed he would follow her quickly, but he hadn't. She had tried waiting, but the innumerable tiny sounds that filled the night made her too nervous to remain still. As long as she walked, she made enough noise to cover other sounds.

She didn't know how long she'd been gone. Her feet told her it had been an eternity. Her boots weren't made for walking on rocky, uneven ground. Her feet were hot and sweaty. She was certain she had blisters forming on both. Where was Luke? Even if he didn't love her-and from the intensity of his kisses, she had every reason to believe he did-his unending worry over his reputation should have sent him chasing after her the minute he knew she had gone.

Valeria stumbled down the hillside and onto a rough track that served as a road to the small town. She wondered why Luke hadn't mentioned it. He probably didn't want to force her to sleep in a warm, soft bed when he knew she'd be much happier sleeping on rocks, wondering if she'd be sharing her bed with rattlesnakes and scorpions before the morning. She was determined to learn how to live in this country regardless of the discomforts-and there did seem to be a great number of thembut she didn't understand why they couldn't avail themselves of a few comforts now and then, especially when they didn't know what kind of animals might be prowling around their campsite. She didn't have much faith in horses as a first line of defense.

She had to bend her mind to deciding what to do when she reached town. She'd love to find a boardinghouse like Mrs. Brightman's, but she didn't know if all towns had boardinghouses. This one looked a lot smaller than Oxford. It had only one street with about a dozen buildings on one side, fewer on the other. None of them looked very large or very nice.

That didn't matter. She'd only be here as long as it took Luke to find her. She expected him to come hurtling down the hillside any minute. In the meantime, she was thirsty. And hungry. She hadn't eaten more than a few bites of her dinner.

The closer she came to the town, the more uneasy she became. She didn't see any houses with yards and flowers. She didn't see a church or anything that resembled a school. The decent businesses had closed for the night. At least half of the buildings appeared to be saloons, all open with lights in the windows. But it wasn't the abundant light of open, cheerful saloons welcoming passersby in for a drink. It was a dull, subdued, sullen light that offered little cheer.