To Love a Stranger (36 page)

“There he is! He’s doubled back toward the road. Don’t let him get away!”

Pierce broke out onto the rutted dirt road with the thugs hard on his heels. He ran toward his horse but knew he wasn’t going to make it. Daring a glance over his shoulder, he saw one of the thugs taking aim. A shot rang out; Pierce waited for the pain. When none came he took heart and kept running.

Pierce heard them before he saw them. Six riders were pounding down the road toward him. More of Willoughby’s men? he wondered dully. He
glanced over his shoulder again and was surprised to see that the thugs had stopped in their tracks, staring in confusion at their fallen companion. Suddenly the thugs ran for their horses and Pierce dared to breathe again.

He watched now as the incoming riders separated the thugs from their horses, cutting off their escape. One of the riders approached Pierce. “Are you Pierce Delaney?”

Pierce saw the man’s badge and grinned. “Sure am. How did you know? You don’t know how glad I am to see you, Marshal. I heard the government was sending a lawman to the territory.”

“I’m Marshal Kinder. We’ve been looking for you. ‘Pears we got here in the nick of time.”

“I’m real curious to know what brought you to my rescue, Marshal, but I don’t have time to listen to a lengthy explanation. My wife is in trouble in Rolling Prairie, and I need to get to her without delay. These men were sent to kill me by a man named Samson Willoughby. It’s a long story, one I don’t have time for now.”

“I know all about Samson Willoughby, Mr. Delaney. My men and I are going to take these thugs to Rolling Prairie and confront Willoughby with information provided by your wife.”

Pierce forgot to breathe. “You saw my wife? Is she …” He swallowed noisily. “Is she all right?”

“Your wife is a brave woman, Mr. Delaney. She rode into Roundup in the middle of the night to seek my help. She risked her life by coming to me. Her story was bizarre, but I believed her. We had just about given up hope of finding you when we heard gunshots.”

“Where is Zoey now? Did she go home to the Circle F?”

“No, it wasn’t safe for her there. I put her up at the hotel in Roundup. I reckon she’s still there. She was pretty groggy last night. Willoughby’s been dosing her with laudanum to keep her in line. Despite everything she’s been through, she found a way to escape Willoughby’s hirelings and reach me. You’re a lucky man, Mr. Delaney.”

“I’m beginning to think you’re right, Marshal, though I wouldn’t have believed it twenty minutes ago. If you don’t need me anymore, I’d like to go to my wife.”

“I’d like you and your wife to remain in Roundup until the mess with Willoughby is cleared up in Rolling Prairie. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to return to the Circle F.”

“Gladly, Marshal,” Pierce said with a grin. “Zoey and I need some time to ourselves, anyway. We never did have a proper honeymoon.”

Mounting smoothly, Pierce gave the marshal a cocky salute and rode off.

P
ierce reached Roundup several hours later. He stopped first at the livery to drop off his horse. The poor animal had been ridden hard and long and had earned a few days of special attention.

“Take good care of him,” Pierce instructed the hostler as he patted Midnight’s velvety nose. “I’m new in town. Can you direct me to the hotel?”

“Two blocks east, turn left. Can’t miss it, it’s the only hotel in town.”

Pierce flung his saddlebags over his shoulder and started off down the street. He was desperate to see Zoey, to feel her in his arms, to kiss her sweet lips, to caress and love her. They had fought a long, hard battle to be together, and nothing was going to part them again.

A good share of their struggle, Pierce realized, was due to his unwillingness to believe in Zoey. His distrust of women had crippled him emotionally and placed his heart in limbo. Then Zoey had come along and made a mockery of the beliefs and prejudices that had caused him to be bitterly opposed
to marriage. If he hadn’t met Zoey he would not have found the perfect woman for him.

The hotel clerk was reluctant at first to give out Zoey’s room number. The marshal had instructed the clerk to keep an eye on Mrs. Delaney, and he wasn’t going to give her into the care of a saddle tramp, which was exactly what Pierce looked like. His clothing was coated with several days worth of trail dirt; he was unshaven and needed a haircut. It took some fancy talking on Pierce’s part to convince the clerk that he was indeed Zoey’s husband.

“Is my wife in her room?” Pierce asked.

“She hasn’t left as far as I know.”

Pierce took the stairs to the second floor two at a time. He stopped abruptly before Room 210. His hand was shaking when he raised it to rap sharply on the door.

Zoey found waiting intolerable. Her imagination worked overtime, picturing Pierce lying dead somewhere on a deserted road. She didn’t know how she’d survive if Marshal Kinder had been too late to save him. The waiting was driving her crazy. It wasn’t in her nature to do nothing while danger stalked a loved one. If the marshal couldn’t find Pierce, maybe she could. Having convinced herself she had to leave, she began gathering up her clothing.

A loud rapping at the door jerked Zoey to attention. Her heart jumped into her throat; a pulse pounded in her temple. The marshal had returned! Fear at what he might tell her kept her frozen to the spot, unable to move or to reply. Her hands
spread across her stomach, offering mute comfort to the child inside her, a child who might never know his father.

“Zoey,” Pierce called softly through the door. “Let me in, love.”

At the sound of Pierce’s voice, Zoey’s world tumbled back into its orbit She gave a shriek of joy and stumbled to the door. Her hands were shaking so badly she fumbled with the key in the lock before it turned. Flinging the door open, she flew into Pierce’s arms.

Pierce dropped his saddlebags and caught her against him, his arms closing around her fiercely. Whispering his name over and over, she kissed his mouth, his cheeks, his nose, the wedge of flesh showing through the vee of his shirt. Pierce hoisted her off her feet and walked into the room, slamming the door shut with his booted foot.

“Sweetheart, I’m all right.” Pierce laughed as she continued to touch him. “Marshal Kinder told me what you did. I always knew you were resourceful, as well as smart and beautiful, I just didn’t know how resourceful. I can’t wait to hear how you got away from Willoughby. I didn’t stick around for an explanation. I wanted to get back to you as quickly as possible.”

“I was so afraid for you,” Zoey sighed against his neck.

“No more afraid than I was for you. Those four days in jail were pure torture. My imagination worked overtime, visualizing all the horrors Willoughby put you through.”

Zoey placed a finger against his lips. “Don’t talk,
just kiss me. God, I need you. I feared I’d never see you again.”

She began pulling at his clothes, working his shirt out of his pants, her fingers fumbling with the buttons.

“Zoey. God, love, I want you, too, but I’m not fit to touch you. I’ve been on the road for days.”

His words had little impact on Zoey. She had finally gotten his shirt unbuttoned and pulled both his vest and shirt down his arms. She groaned with impatience as she tugged at the waistband of his trousers.

Her need set him afire, sending hot blood spurting through his veins. Soon his own need was as fierce as hers as he began tearing off Zoey’s clothing. Half-undressed, they staggered to the bed and tumbled upon it in a tangle of arms and legs.

“Lift your hips,” Pierce gasped as he peeled Zoey’s denims down her legs. In a fever of impatience, he pulled off her boots so he could get her pants and drawers all the way off.

The moment her legs were free, they came around his waist, binding him to her.

“Zoey, let me get my pants off.”

“Later. Please, Pierce.”

Pierce tugged at the placket holding his pants together and the buttons went flying, releasing his swollen sex. Zoey felt the hardened tip nudge the moist portals of her passage and moaned her urgency against his mouth. She grasped his hips, bringing him against her as she lifted her hips in flagrant invitation.

“Are you sure you’re ready, love?” Pierce whispered.
He was more than ready. He was hot, hard, heavy, and primed to burst.

His hand came between them, his fingers delving into her soft folds. Her heat was yielding and sweet beneath his strong fingers. She was wet and eager, and he exhaled raggedly. Flexing his hips, he thrust home, burying himself to the hilt. Zoey screamed, her body rigid as she rose up to meet him.

Pierce froze. “Are you all right?”

“More than all right. Don’t stop, love. Don’t ever stop.”

“As if I could,” Pierce groaned. He felt her pulsate around him, and he ground his teeth together to keep from spilling immediately. “You’re so tight, love. Your heat is scorching me. I think I’m dying. I could ask for no sweeter heaven.”

His hips jerked in and out, sending Zoey higher and higher as she thrashed her head from side to side and writhed beneath him. This was her man, hers to love forever and ever.

“I need to kiss you, love,” Pierce said. Tangling his fingers in her hair, he cupped her head in his hands and stroked the seam of her lips with his tongue, then slipped it between her teeth, into the sweet warm recesses of her mouth.

Zoey felt the weight of him against her, the shape and hardness of him inside her, and felt contractions begin deep within that place where they were joined. Wave after wave of raw feeling traveled over her body, gathering strength, creating a violent force within her.

Pierce felt her climax begin, felt her tightness close around him, and he set his teeth against the excruciatingly pleasurable contractions that pulsed
around his sex. Freeing her mouth, he closed his lips upon the hardened tip of her breast, drawing upon her nipple as she shattered. He forced himself to wait until her bliss was at its peak before taking his own pleasure. His groin was heavy and aching as he thrust and retreated, pumping his hips against hers until his seed burst forth in a heady rush of nearly unbearable ecstasy.

“It shouldn’t have been like that,” Pierce said after he rolled off Zoey and brought his breathing under control. “It should have been slow and easy. I wanted to arouse you slowly, to draw out your pleasure until you begged for release. Damn, you didn’t even give me time to get my pants off.” He grinned, recalling her eagerness to have him. He hoped she never changed.

“Stop grinning,” Zoey said, cuddling into the curve of his body. “I needed you, Pierce. I wanted it hard and fast. It won’t always be like that, but seeing you alive … I don’t know, it was like I had to have you in that way to convince myself you were alive and well.”

“God, I’m exhausted,” Pierce said. “I want to love you again, but I don’t know if I’d do either of us any good without proper rest.”

When Zoey failed to answer, he looked down and saw that she had already fallen asleep. He pulled a cover over them and closed his eyes. Sleep came instantly.

Three hours later, gnawing hunger pangs awakened him. Zoey was still sleeping, so he eased himself from bed and checked the pitcher for water. It was full. He stripped off his remaining clothing and washed the trail dust from his body. Then he
cautiously opened the door, found his saddlebags he had dropped there earlier, and dragged them into the room. Digging into the pockets, he found his shaving gear and shaved himself before the cracked mirror.

“I love the way your muscles move beneath your skin,” Zoey said in a sultry voice. She’d been watching him from beneath lowered lids for the better part of thirty minutes.

Pierce turned and gave her a slow grin. “And I love the way your skin feels against mine.”

She held out her arms and he went to her, stripping away the remnants of her clothing before bringing her against him. “Do you want to tell me about your ordeal with Willoughby?”

Zoey stirred restlessly. “Must I?”

“I need to know, for my own peace of mind. Tell me, love. What did the bastard do to you?”

“He drugged me with laudanum. I don’t recall much about the trip from Butte to Rolling Prairie. I woke up in my own bed. I did remember, though, that Willoughby had let slip he had ordered my father killed, and I confronted him about it. He didn’t deny it.”

Pierce went still. “He killed your father? Why?”

“For many reasons. Me, the land; who knows how the mind a man like Willoughby works? He couldn’t afford to let me escape, so he placed a guard at my door. He told the townspeople I was seriously ill and bribed the doctor to confirm his diagnosis. I’m sure Willoughby intended to kill me. Just like he killed my father.”

“Did he say he was going to kill you?”

“He said he didn’t know what to do with me.”

“I thought your father was killed by Indians.”

“That’s what Willoughby wanted people to think. He must have paid his men to kill Pa and make it look like Indians did it. Look what he did to Cully. The man is a fiend.”

“Marshal Kinder will see that justice is done. Three of Willoughby’s men were in his custody. Kinder reached me in the nick of time. You saved my life, love, again. How in the hell did you get away from the Circle F and Willoughby?”

Zoey grinned. “It was quite simple, really. Once I gained my wits, I began making plans.” She proceeded to tell him how she used Willoughby’s own laudanum to escape his men.

“Laudanum? You drugged Willoughby’s men?” Pierce laughed and kissed her soundly. “What a wicked little minx you are. It’s no more than I would have expected from you. I reckon I’m going to have to mind my manners around you. You’re a dangerous woman. Seriously, love, I was so damned worried about you, I thought I’d lose my mind. Living without you in my life frightened the hell out of me.”

“You’ll never have to worry about losing me. We’re going to grow old together.”

“Promise?”

“On my honor.” She reached for him, her hands hot upon his body. She placed tender little kisses upon his chest as her hands and mouth roamed over his body.