To Tame A Texan (27 page)

The old woman giggled behind her hand and crept out.

“Don't fight me, Lynnie; she might come in again,” he said against her lips, and continued to kiss her.

“You can stop now; she's gone.” Lynnie pulled away and wiped her mouth.

“Oh, hush, woman. She might come back.” He pressed her down against the buffalo robe, his mouth claiming hers, his lips urging hers to open.

Then his tongue licked along her lips in a way that made her breathe hard. “I—I reckon we have to make this look good,” she gasped.

“I reckon we do,” he said against her mouth, and he was gasping for air, too.

She knew she ought to move away from him, but his hand was stroking the front of her shirt, and somehow, it felt too good to stop him.

He shuddered and pulled back, rose up on one elbow, and looked down at her, breathing hard. “You know, Lynnie, you really are very pretty.”

“Have you gone loco?” She wasn't quite sure what to say next; his eyes were intense as he stared down at her.

With a sigh, he lay down next to her. Outside, they could hear the drums beating as the others continued to dance. She was more afraid than she wanted to admit, and she snuggled up against Ace's big, brawny form.

“Lynnie, I wish you wouldn't do that.”

“Why not?” She cuddled even closer.

“Young'un, you don't know a damned thing about men. You don't crawl all over a man and then go peacefully to sleep.” He seemed tense against her.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” she protested. “Besides, I'm not crawling all over you.”

“If you weren't so damned innocent. . . . “He rose up on one elbow and kissed her in a hot, hurried manner that made her catch her breath as his hand fumbled with the top button of her shirt.

She knew she ought to stop him, but her heart seemed to be pounding as hard as his. She opened her lips. His warm tongue caressed the inside of her mouth, and Lynnie took a deep breath as Ace expertly unbuttoned her shirt. She knew she should protest, but his hand inside her shirt felt too good to end it. Ace's grammar might not be good, but he knew how to please a woman.

Now his fingers stroked her breast until the pink rosebud of a nipple came up hard and firm. He made a sound low in his throat, and then his mouth found her breast and she gasped at the sensation. She hadn't realized a man's mouth could feel so warm, so wet, so good. Without meaning to, she arched herself against him, taking his dark head in her two hands, guiding him to her other breast.

“Oh, Lynnie,” he whispered, “oh, Lynnie, I had no idea you could make me want you like this.”

Her breasts were pale in the moonlight as his hands tugged at her pants.

She felt his hand under the waistband, under her drawers and stroking down her belly. Lynnie gasped. “You—you shouldn't be doing that.”

“You're right; I shouldn't.”

“I ought to make you stop.”

“Just say the word.” He looked up from kissing her belly. “If you don't like it . . .”

“I—I like it just fine.” She caught his head between her hands and brought his face up to kiss her. His mouth was hot, and she could feel his pulse pounding as hard as hers did. She wasn't sure what it was she wanted, but Ace had done this a thousand times; he would know what to do. Then she hated all the girls he had done it with.

He took her hand and put it on his crotch. Through the denim, she could feel the hard, throbbing maleness of him. “Ace, I—I've never done this before; I don't know what to do next.”

He sat up suddenly, cursing. “Lordy, I must be loco to be doin' this. I'm sorry, Lynnie; I got carried away.”

She sighed with disappointment. “Does that mean you're stopping? I really liked that.”

He frowned at her. “A nice, respectable girl shouldn't tell a man that.”

“Well, why not?” She was annoyed with him for interrupting those wonderful, exciting sensations. “I was just being honest.”

“If I weren't a Texas gentleman, I'd have your drawers off by now.” He fumbled in his pocket for a smoke.

“Gentleman? You?” She snorted. Then she felt a deep sadness. “It's because I'm not pretty enough, isn't it?”

He looked at her, seeming to study every line of her face in the dim light. “Lynnie, I never thought I would say this, but I think you're beautiful.”

She shrugged “You're just trying to spare my feelings.”

“Don't tempt me, missy,” he snapped as he rolled a cigarette with a shaking hand. “I never wanted to take a woman as bad as I want you tonight.”

“Really?” She brightened.

“Damn it, really. Now go to sleep.” He lit his smoke.

“What are you going to do?”

“Not sleep,” he grumbled. “Not after what you've just put me through.”

She looked up at him innocently, puzzled. “Me? I didn't do anything.”

“Like hell you didn't,” he growled. “Now hush up and go to sleep. I'll stand guard.”

She started to protest that he had no right to tell her to hush up, but judging from his annoyed face, she decided not to push her luck. She felt safe with Ace Durango on guard, even though they were surrounded by Comanches. She laid her face against his leg. As she dozed, she felt his big hand stroking her hair, and it was comforting.

“Ace,” she whispered, shirt half open, hair askew, full lips swollen and wet from his kisses.

“Shut up,” he commanded, “and go to sleep, Lynnie, before I throw you down and do something I've been fightin' since way back on the trail.”

“I'm not pretty,” she said.

“The hell you aren't, but you're prettier with your mouth shut. Now go to sleep.”

She started to protest again, saw the anger in his eyes, and backed off. She hadn't realized what a thin veneer of civilization this cowboy had. Deep down, he was not much more than a savage like his Cheyenne ancestors. “All right, Ace,” she answered meekly, “whatever you say.”

He leaned back against the lodge pole with a sigh, his groin aching, and smoked. He didn't dare look at her, afraid he might not be able to control himself He wasn't used to going without a woman for more than a day or two, and it had been weeks. There was something different about this one, though. Lynnie wasn't just any woman.

Ace looked over at her. She lay on the buffalo robes, her hair spread out like a red fan across the fur, her shirt half open so that he could see one of her small, perfect breasts. Right now he would have taken a front seat in hell for her to open her arms to him. What he was feeling wasn't honorable, he knew, and it would only cause more trouble because he wasn't the marrying kind—certainly not to a headstrong women's-rights type like Lynnie. She probably wouldn't have him, anyway, not if he were the last man on earth. Lynnie was too busy saving the world to get hitched up with a man she considered an uncivilized, untamed brute. Well, maybe in Dodge she'd find some pantywaist in a derby hat and flowered vest—the kind of dainty gent who could spout poetry and plant posies.

Ace chuckled at the thought. A man like that could never tame this Texas spitfire; he wasn't sure he could do it himself, and he damned sure didn't want to try. No, better he should stick with the rollicking tarts that danced in cantinas and expected nothing more than a good roll in the hay and a few laughs. He and Lynnie McBride were too much alike in some ways even to think of anything permanent.

 

 

Ace sat guard all night and, at the first light, shook Lynnie awake. “We'd better be movin' on, Lynnie.”

For a moment, she seemed puzzled as she looked around, and then she seemed to remember. “You rotten . . . ! Taking advantage of me like that.”

“Nothin much happened,” he reminded her.

“How can you say that when you had my shirt open and almost my pants—”

“You were pretty cooperative,” he pointed out.

“A gentleman would not bring that up,” she sniffed, nose in the air.

“Okay, I must have been outta my mind.” He sighed. “Now let's get a move on. The Comanche may have changed their minds this morning.”

Sure enough, when they came out, the old chief was in council with some of his warriors. The cowboys looked tense and alarmed. Ace looked at Comanch. “What is it?”

“The chief says his son still wants the firehaired woman. If he can't trade for her, he's willin' to fight you for her.”

The hair rose up on the back of Ace's neck, and he reached out and pulled Lynnie into the protection of his muscular arm. “Tell him I will give the young brave a fine horse and some beef instead,” Ace said.

Comanch spoke, and the old man shook his head. The young warrior looked Lynnie up and down in a way that left nothing to the imagination.

Ace could feel Lynnie trembling in the circle of his arm. The young warrior looked lithe and strong. Yet Ace knew what he must do, what any Texan who called himself a man would do. “Tell him I don't want to fight him, but I will to protect my woman.”

Lynnie looked up at him, and he saw fear in her green eyes though she tried to hide it. “Thunderation. The very idea of men fighting over me like two stallions over a mare—”

“Hush, Lynnie,” Ace commanded. “Get over there by the chuck wagon.”

“But...”

“You heard me!” he thundered in no uncertain tones.

Meekly, for once, she obeyed. Ace nodded to Comanch. “Find out how this plays out.”

“Oh, Boss, you sure you . . . ?”

“I don't have any choice,” Ace snapped. “I ain't let-tin' him have Lynnie.”

Comanch conferred with the chief and returned. “It will be hand-to-hand wrestlin'. If you beat him, the chief will give you the best horse he has. If the brave beats you, you will hand over the woman and ride out.”

Lynnie looked scared, and the cowboys set up an angry murmuring. “We'll all fight them, Ace.”

Ace shook his head. “They outnumber us, and we don't stand a chance.” He studied the young warrior, not at all sure he could take him.

Lynnie caught his arm, and he felt her hand tremble. “I have faith in you, Ace.”

The way her green eyes looked up at him made him determined to protect her. “Damn you, girl, I wish you'd stayed on that train.”

She smiled despite the fear in her face. “And miss all this fun?”

Ace began to strip off his shirt. “Tell the chief to form everyone into a circle. I will defend my woman.”

As Comanch translated, there was a murmur of excitement from the Indians, who began to form a big circle. The young brave stripped down to his loincloth, and Ace took a deep breath as he looked over the muscled brown body. Ace was pretty good in a barroom brawl, but he wasn't sure he could take this lithe young warrior. He glanced over at Lynnie. She looked pale but defiant.

Ace squared his shoulders and stepped into the circle. The young brave grinned and nodded to Lynnie as if to say,
In a few minutes, you will belong to me
.

The thought annoyed Ace as he went into a wrestler's stance. The warrior circled warily. Ace circled, too, then, unexpectedly, dove for the other man and caught him around the legs. They went down in a flurry of dust, rolling over and over as both sides yelled encouragement. They finally broke free and staggered to their feet, even as Ace hit the other man in the jaw, causing him to stumble backward and go down. Ace pounced on him like a bobcat, pounding him in the face. The Indians yelled encouragement, and the warrior skillfully twisted out from under Ace and grabbed him by the throat, choking him with strong hands.

Ace was gasping for air, struggling to break the other's grip. Blackness played around his vision as he fought to escape. His lungs felt as if they were on fire, and it was tempting to stop fighting, hoping the other would relax his grip; but then he thought of Lynnie's fate and brought his arms up, catching the warrior on the forearms and breaking the hold. Gasping for breath, Ace staggered toward the brave and slammed him into a tree. Around him, he was dimly aware of everyone shouting, urging both men on. He doubled his fist and caught the other man in the jaw, sending him sprawling.

At this point, Lynnie could stand no more. Before anyone could stop her, she rushed into the battle and began pummeling the downed brave. “How dare you think I'd go with you? How dare you!”

The brave threw up his hands to protect his face as Lynnie beat on him while Ace stared in horror. Now the Comanches began to laugh uncertainly and point. There was no doubt they were ridiculing the young warrior for having to fight a woman. Ace came striding across the circle and picked her up, kicking and screaming. “Girl, you weren't supposed to get mixed up in this.”

“Damned if I wasn't!” Now she began to punch Ace, who held her at arm's length, trying to avoid her small fists. The Indians laughed even louder, and the chief said something to Comanch.

“He says she is too much woman for any man. He would not like his son to have to try to tame her.”

“I could have told him that.” Ace grinned and held Lynnie at arm's length. “Tell him his son is a brave man, and we give three fat steers in payment for crossin' the Comanches' land.”

When Comanch translated, even the beaten brave began to smile. He said something to Comanch, who turned to Ace. “He says if you can handle that filly, you're a better man than he is.”

Ace picked up the struggling Lynnie and hung her over his broad shoulder. “Tell him no one can tame a Texan except maybe another Texan. We part friends.”

He carried Lynnie over and put her up on her horse. “Now let's get out of here before they change their minds.”