Lilac Temptress (2 page)

She swayed her hips as she approached,
serenading her sweet melody until she reached out and touched him.
Throwing caution to the wind, she smiled seductively and wrapped
her legs over the intriguing stranger before climbing on top of
him, leaving her breasts mere inches from his chest. She wanted to
feel more of him and pressed her thighs against his waist, locking
her ankles around the backside of his chair. Whipping her red curls
back, she slowly lowered her head to meet his even gaze.

The strength of his warm body and
brute masculine smell, sent chills along her spine. Never had she
before forced herself on a man so deliberately that he might think
that what she was after, lie between his legs. She knew she should
withdraw, but this man felt too good between her thighs.

The blaring noise of men, in drunken
stupors, faded from Drake’s consciousness. Now that she was so very
close, he could make a better assessment of her attributes. The
enchanting beauty in front of him roused his desire as her soft and
weightless body blazed against his. The scent of lilacs emanated
from her long spiraling auburn locks that brushed against his
chest. Her succulent breasts, heaved, threatening to break free of
her restrictive ensemble.

A burning sensation rippled through
him as he stared back into her green, almond shaped eyes. Her
luscious lips parted to give way to a glistening smile, tempting
him to steal a kiss. At this moment he wanted nothing more. Her
inescapable energy compelled him into action. He gently gripped her
exposed thighs—pinching her garter with one hand, ready to place
bills there.

Sierra swallowed and took
in a deep breath, aroused by the contact with his wandering
hands.
Stay calm
,
she silently commanded herself, refusing to give in to her rising
panic as she recognized the intent displayed in his eyes. Her heart
pounded savagely at his touch, and the air hung thick between them,
but she did not break their contact. He wet his lips. He wanted to
kiss her—she could feel it and she wasn’t so sure she didn’t want
the same. Her body gave off heat as if it were about to burst into
flames. She had to put as much space as possible between herself
and this dangerously beautiful man. Like a whirlwind, she rose and
jetted away, retreating to the stage, robbing him of the chance to
taste the sweet nectar of her lips.

Drake grinned widely. His deep dimples
pierced his high cheekbones as he mused over the not quite kiss,
never letting his eyes leave her, even as she turned and walked
away.

“
Drake, snap out of it.
She’s trouble. I’m certain of it,” Girard warned.

“
You boys enjoying
everything all right?”

Drake looked up at the older,
broad-shouldered gentleman with salt and pepper hair. Approaching
strangers rarely caught him off guard. In particular, one that
spoke with menace in his voice and had a look of malevolence in his
eyes. Clearly this man was perturbed, but Drake didn’t care. It was
certainly not the first time that he had been approached just after
encountering a beautiful woman.

“
Yes, we are. This is a
mighty fine establishment.” Girard answered because he knew that
Drake would not, and he hoped to keep tensions between them all at
bay.

“
Good to hear it,” the
gentleman offered, before doing away with small talk. “By the looks
of you, I know who sent you and I can smell your kind a mile away.
Go back and tell your man I won’t sell. And now that you have
enjoyed yourselves, you can finish up your drinks and get
going.”

Drake tore his gaze away from the
captivating woman onstage and spared the man a wide grin before
saying, “Mr. William Hunter, I presume. Allow me to introduce
myself. I’m Drake McCalister and this here is Girard Larivière. We
have been sent to make you an offer that you can’t
refuse.”

“
Like I’ve already
stated—
I won’t sell
. I don’t want any disturbances in this town,” he said
sharply. Sensing that his heated tone wouldn’t be enough to
discourage the strangers he added, “We’re on friendly terms with
the Indians and we’ve avoided the disruption of the Civil War.
Bring a bloody railroad through here and bring trouble with it!”
The man slammed his palms face down on the table with a thud,
frowning disdainfully as he glared at the
newcomers.

Drake, not easily intimidated or
deterred, remarked coolly while staring the man in the eyes, “The
peace you enjoy now, won’t last for long Mr. Hunter.”

It crossed Girard’s mind to shoot his
friend. He wanted to keep the lines of communication open, not rub
William Hunter the wrong way and have them ushered outside the
tavern’s doors. Drake didn’t get it—he was causing more trouble
than negotiating a deal—very typical of his dear friend, leaving
Girard to wonder if Drake sometimes enjoyed the mayhem that he
caused.

The old man hesitated, taken aback by
the outsider’s candor, before drawing his brows together in a
scowl. “You two, and all the men Mr. Morgan keeps sending, are the
only ones disturbing the peace around here. You see—the people in
this town don’t like strangers. If you boys are as smart as you
look, you’ll best be on your way by daybreak.”

“
Mr. Hunter, my firm was
hired to represent you. Make the best deal on your behalf. I
believe that in the past you were never made an offer quite like
this one,” Drake said, laying it on thick in an attempt to pique
the older gentleman’s curiosity.

Girard observed several burly rogues
rising from their chairs at a nearby table; no doubt William’s
henchmen and Drake, as expected didn’t pay them any
mind.

“
We don’t want any trouble,
Mr. Hunter,” Girard stated earnestly. “Drake, I think we have
finished our business here. We don’t want to overstay our welcome.”
Girard signaled with his head pointing toward the rouges and
stood.

“
Mr. McCalister, it would
be best that you listen to your comrade,” William agreed, sizing up
Drake with open hostility.

Drake didn’t want to give in to the
demand, but he wasn’t there to instigate a bar brawl and he knew he
definitely was not off to a good start with William.

“
My apologies if I have
troubled you.” Drake’s tone lacked sincerity. He placed his hat on
his head, tipped it and stood. As he turned to leave, he briefly
locked eyes with the woman in red, before she flittered away like a
humming bird, behind the velvet curtain.

Drake dug his hands into his pockets
and placed several bills on the table to cover the tab, and then he
brushed past William and exited the tavern through the swinging
doors with his partner.

“
Wil, I rather liked those
boys,” Stella announced, approaching the stone-faced man. She eyed
the table, taking stock of the large tip and quickly shoved the
bills into her apron pockets. It usually took her half the night to
make as much from the usual misers that came into the bar and she’d
be sure to give Sierra her cut. “You’re always treating visitors so
rudely. It’s no wonder this town’s so empty. How long you gonna
keep turning down offers to sell?”

“
I didn’t like McCalister,”
William countered gruffly, “so stop your bellyaching.”

“
Is this because of
the way Sierra behaved toward him or because you don’t want to sell
to any of Morgan’s men?” Stella challenged, raising her eyebrows.
“For the record, she was doing her job.
She
brings in the crowd. She worked
him the same way she works the rest of the gents,” Stella lied,
trying to downplay Sierra’s outrageous, promiscuous behavior that
was very uncommon of the red-haired maven. “She’s not a little girl
anymore. You’ve got to see her for the woman she is and stop being
so damned overprotective.”

William huffed at her. He couldn’t put
up with one of Stella’s lectures right now.

“
Besides Wil, do you
remember what Adrienne told you?” She leaned in close to him to
make her point. “This town ain’t gonna be under the protection of
the Blackfoot tribe anymore once the construction of the railroad
to Vermilionville has begun. Jadesville is just too close to that
town for us to remain safe.” She shook her head disapprovingly as
she walked away, clearly disappointed with his decision not to
sell.

* * *

“
For God’s sake—that
unreasonable, illogical, asinine old man!” Drake blurted, once he
and Girard were out of earshot, rage rising up in his chest with
each new obscenity uttered. “He is missing out on great
prospect!”

“
Don’t waste your time
thinking about him. We depart at daybreak and that is just as well;
better than wasting a day negotiating with a man who won’t be
negotiated with,” Girard replied calmly, hoping Drake would take
the hint to cool off.

Drake tamed his wrath and remained
silent as they strolled toward the Casa Bayou Inn, passing various
groups of dimly lit windows of clustered wooden
buildings.

“
I want to see
her
again,” he added as
an afterthought.

Girard knew that Drake was
referring to the sumptuous woman from the tavern that wrapped
herself around him like a cozy quilt.
Typical
, he thought. Women were
always throwing themselves at Drake, and Drake in turn, seemed to
be drawn to those that brought trouble.

Girard admitted to himself that from
time to time, such women drew his interest as well, but he’d have
to vie for their attention when Drake was around, and it was enough
to make even a man like him, blessed with angelic features of his
own—hair the color of sunlight, gray eyes that shimmered like
gemstones, and a slightly smaller, though no less a muscular frame
than Drake’s—a bit jealous. He sometimes wondered if he should seek
Drake’s advice on how to snare such sirens, but today, he was more
than content to settle for reprimanding his friend.

“
Don’t be reckless
Drake. This isn’t a pleasure trip. You know
who
her benefactor is,” Girard
replied, grumbling.

Drake did not like what Girard
insinuated about William, and was clearly irritated by his
comments. “That foolish old man wouldn’t even hear us out. Now I
know why Morgan sent us,” Drake grunted mirthlessly.

“
Why are you letting
William Hunter get under your skin?” Girard asked, raising his
brow. “This isn’t the first man that we’ve met and dealt with like
him.”

Drake retreated back into his silence
after giving Girard a disgruntled look. He huffed and raised his
head upwards toward the star filled sky, the red-haired woman still
lingered in his thoughts.

Chapter 2

Drake leaned against the closed door
inside his room—the day had been too long. He and Girard hadn’t
arrived in Jadesville until dusk, and they’d only made a brief stop
at the Casa Bayou Inn to secure two rooms before heading to the
tavern, eager to unwind from the long journey. Now that he’d
returned for some much needed rest, he more fully assessed his
lodgings.

It wasn’t even worth comparing to the
fine hotels in New Orleans with their large suites and
complementary gift baskets full of chocolates, fruits, and small
bottled house wines. But this room was quaint, well kept, and most
importantly fitted with the essentials: a bed, end table and
chair.

Drake subconsciously yawned as his
mind catalogued the events of the day. When he wasn’t roasting in
the sun, he was leading his reluctant steed through swamplands.
They made a miserable pair—his horse waging a losing battle against
the native insects looking to feast off his hide, with only his
tail to defend him, as Drake fought against thirst and fatigue, his
tongue pasty and glued to the roof of his mouth, and his clothes
damp and clinging. The partial shade of the overgrown, moss-laden
cypress trees, made matters only worse. It was a slow abominable
torture. He hated that there were no trains.

He had only traveled this way for a
day, but the sweltering heat made it feel like ages. And how
advantageous it was for his other business partner, Daniel Jouvin,
a long-time acquaintance, to conveniently pass up this trip—having
had “pressing business elsewhere” that prevented him from
accompanying him and Girard to this backwater town.

Convenient, but likely
legit, Drake conceded. Daniel was a very busy man, with many
northern colony properties and an inherited grand estate in England
to oversee. Daniel’s wealth far surpassed Drake’s he suspected, but
the shrewd businessman played his cards close to the vest,
concealing his illustrious pedigree from Louisiana Society and
using his mother’s maiden name, Jouvin, in his business dealings.
Daniel claimed it was enough that he had to deal with his own
aristocratic
kind
and kept a modest home in New Orleans. Drake liked that Daniel
didn’t trade on his family connections and envied the freedom that
came from not having every action one did reflected on the
family.

He focused back on the
matter at hand and his firm’s—
McCalister
,
Larivière
and
Jouvin—
retainer to represent the
Louisiana and Texas Railroad Company, and secure land along the
Opelousas and Vermilionville route for railroad tracks that were
being constructed. The government issued federal land grants for
tracks and stations to Morgan’s company, but private land was still
needed.