Chastity (20 page)

    She knew the time was coming. She felt it in the ferocious ardor with which he again took her lips. She sensed it in the shuddering of    Reed's strong frame, and she read it in his passionate gaze as he drew back to slide his hand between her thighs.

    "
It's
time, darlin'." He caressed her intimately, making her gasp anew. "I want you to want me the way I want you. Tell me you want me, Chastity."

    Her response trembled on her lips as emotions that were new and filled with raw heat shuddered through her in successive waves. She managed haltingly, "I want you, Reed."

    His caress slipping deeper, Reed fondled the bud of her passion, the brilliant blue of his eyes glittering as he whispered, "I want you to need me the way I need you. Tell me you need me."

    Chastity's reply was choked as the wonder soared to breathlessness. "I… I need you."

    "Say it again, Chastity. I need to hear the words. Tell me you want me and need me, that you yearn as much as I do to have me inside you." Separating her thighs, smoothing the soft flesh there with quick, gentle strokes, Reed paused above her. The hard swell of his passion moved against her and she caught her breath.

    "Tell me, Chastity."

    The words rising from the font of loving hunger deep within her, Chastity rasped, "I want you inside me, Reed. Yes, I want that more than I ever wanted anything before."

    Her words were swallowed by a gasp as Reed slid inside her. Chastity closed her eyes. The brief stab of pain was overwhelmed by Reed's grunt of pleasure as he settled hot and deep   within her. She heard him groan softly as her body closed fully around him, and she clutched him close. She felt his anticipation growing, and her own swelled as well. He moved hesitantly, then with increasing passion until she had no thought but the moment, until there was no breath that did not speak Reed's name, until the colors assaulting her mind became a brilliant cataclysm that exploded brightly before her eyes as Reed carried her with him to ecstatic reward.

    The rain hammered the battered canvas roof of the wagon, but the sound no longer caused fear as Chastity lay with Reed's moist flesh still intimately pressed to hers. Reed had transformed the sound to a drumming rhythm of love that would forever quell her fears.

    Grateful for that gift, with the tender moments they'd shared still warm between them, Chastity opened her eyes slowly to see Reed studying her face.

    Morgan's mood was foul. Conchita realized it the moment he walked back into the cabin, his oilskins dripping and the mud thick on his boots. The men followed close behind, but there was little conversation between them as they stripped off their outerwear and hung it on the hooks beside the door.

    They had been branding in the rain most of the day, and it had not gone well. She had heard Morgan's voice echoing angrily from the corral as the rain continued and the mud lent endless   complications to their work. She had not needed to count the stock successfully branded to know that Morgan would be furious when he returned, and she had done all she could to compensate. She had taken special pains with the meal and had spent time and care with her grooming, brushing her dark hair until it shone, going so far as to use the last few drops of scent in the bottle Morgan had bought her months earlier before donning a fresh blouse and skirt.

    The men lingered at the door, waiting for Morgan to make the first move toward the table and the food that was waiting for them. She saw Morgan's eyes slant toward them with contempt. Her throat tightened at the thought that he might look at her in a similar way one day. She waited, her skin prickling, for the explosion to come. It did not take long.

    "What are you waitin' for?" Morgan's dark eyes flashed with anger as he turned sharply on the others. "You're hungry, aren't you? So sit down. Just because you didn't earn your keep today doesn't mean you can't eat."

    The men grumbled as they took their seats. It was Turner who spoke up, obviously unable to restrain a response.

    "It wasn't our fault you know
that as well as we do
. Brandin' in the rain ain't right, and it
don't
work out!"

    "It's right when you had all the sunny days you needed to get the job done and you let them slip away." Morgan dug his fork into a slab of beef on the platter in front of him and slapped    it down on his plate. He looked up, his dark eyes vicious. "And
it's
right when I already made the deal to sell a herd that isn't ready yet!"

    "Yeah, you made the deal in Sedalia."

    The subtle inference in Turner's tone didn't escape Morgan. "That's right. You got somethin' to say about it?"

    "Yeah, I got somethin' to say, all right." Turner could hold it back no longer. "You should've stayed a little longer and gotten yourself a piece of that red-haired witch, so's you wouldn't be takin' it all out on us right now!"

    Morgan went still.

    Conchita took a sharp step backward that brought her up against the far wall. She swallowed, noting that the table had fallen silent and that Turner had paled. A slow shuddering began inside her as Turner shrugged, his gaze flicking around the table before he met Morgan's lethal stare.
"I didn't mean nothin' by what I said.
Simmons told us about that red-haired woman, is
all.
"

    Conchita realized with a start that Morgan was trembling, but she knew instinctively that there was not a shred of fear in him. Instead, she recognized his supreme effort at control as he hissed, "That was one nail in your coffin, Turner. I'm warnin' you now that the next one will come straight from the barrel of my gun. And I'm tellin' you somethin' else. I don't want to hear anythin' else about a red-haired womannot now, not ever! If you all want to stay healthy, you'd better remember that. And    while you're at it, there's somethin' else you'd better keep in mind. We're brandin' tomorrow, rain or shine. We're goin' to take up right where we left off, and there's only two ways any of you'll get away from it.
Either you'll
ride out, knowin' you won't be welcomed back… or you'll be carried out. Make your choice."

    His chest heaving, Morgan picked up his knife and fork and cut into the meat on his plate. He chewed it briefly as the men maintained their silence,
then
spat it out in disgust.

    Slapping the silverware back on the table, Morgan stood up abruptly. Conchita trembled visibly as he stared darkly in her direction, then walked into the rear room and slammed the door behind him.

    Conchita managed a smile. Morgan was angry that the men had told stories about him
untrue
stories. He was tense and cold, but she would change his mood and this darkness this part of him that was
muy mal
would fade.

    Conchita started toward the door.

    "You're makin' a mistake goin' in there."

    Conchita turned back toward Walker. She spat out, "I do not listen to you! Your lies made Morgan angry."

    "They
wasn't
lies." Walker's small eyes narrowed as he glanced at the door. His voice dropped a note lower. "Look, I don't care what you do, but if you
was
smart, you'd stay away from Morgan for a while. I've seen what he can do, and it ain't pretty."

    "Morgan is not angry with
me
."

    "He
don't
have to be."

    Not bothering to respond, Conchita approached the door. She knocked lightly. "Morgan. It is Conchita." When he did not respond, Conchita repeated, "Morgan… it is Conchita."

    "Leave me alone."

    Conchita's hand stilled. Suddenly aware that she held her breath, she forced herself to breathe,
then
pressed, "I would like to come in, Morgan. I would like to speak to you."

    "Get away from the door. Leave… me… alone."

    Morgan's tone chilled Conchita's blood.

    It stopped the beating of her heart as all came suddenly clear.

    The
lies
were truths.

    The
truths
were lies.

    Conchita turned woodenly from the door, uncaring of the stares that followed her as she crossed the room, drew open the door, and stepped out into the storm.

    Shrugging, Simmons darted a knowing glance around the table as the door clicked closed behind her. He gave a scoffing laugh. "Hell, that
puta
sure learned a hard lesson. Did you see the look on her face when Morgan told her to leave him alone?"

    "Yeah…" Bartell flicked a piece of beef from his teeth. "She actually thought he was crazy about her. She so much as told me so when I tried feelin' her out while he was gone."

    Turner's unshaved face tightened. "She
didn't   pull no
punches with me. Hell, before I knew it, she had a knife in her hand!"

    "Yeah, but you keep forgettin'," Walker contributed with a sneer, "You ain't as pretty as Morgan is. You ain't got a baby face and that smooth way of talkin' that he has when he's after somethin'. Women fall all over themselves gettin' in line to be nexteven them red-haired church types."

    "What was so great about her, anyways?"

    Walker stared thoughtfully at Bartell.
"Can't rightly say.
All that red hair and white skin… and she was taller than most.
She had a way about her, kinda prim and proper." He gave a short laugh. "But Morgan said she knocked that storekeeper flat on his back when he tried to put a hand on her."

    "She did! He liked that, did he?"

    "Yeah, I think he did."

    Bartell frowned,
then
slapped down his fork. "I'm tellin' you one thing. If Morgan brings that woman back here from Sedalia, I'm leavin' as soon as he sells off the herd. Between that hotheaded
puta
and the other one, I ain't about to wait around to catch a stray bullet."

    "You think it could come to that?" Turner addressed Walker. "You know Morgan better than the rest of us. You think he'd bring that woman back with him while that
puta's
still here?"

    Walker shrugged. "I wouldn't worry about it, even if he did."

    "You're so sure he could handle them?"

    "Handle them?" Walker continued without   hesitation, "He'd put a bullet through both their hearts if they got him mad enough, and you can bet on it."

    The rain continued its hammering assault above them as Reed raised himself from Chastity's warm flesh, his expression sober.

    The residue of sated passion glittered in her eyes. Her lips were swollen from his kiss. The creamy color of her skin was brushed a rosy hue by his ardent lovemaking. Her body accommodated his weight naturally, totally accepting, and he ached with the beauty of her.

    She had confronted and conquered her worst fear to come to his aid in the flooded gully. She had given herself to him wholly, holding nothing back.

    The only lies between them were his own.

    Sliding his arms under and around her, Reed clutched Chastity close to him. The mental list of those deceits tormented him: the bogus collar he wore, the countless lies he had told to hide the real reason he traveled into Indian Territory, his selfish purpose in taking her with him. It occurred to him that Chastity did not really know him at all. But he dared not tell her the truth. If she balked, the risk of losing Morgan now, when he was so close, was too great.

    And the risk of losing
her
was even greater.

    Her silence concerning him, Reed raised his head to look down into Chastity's face. His
lips  only
inches from hers, he asked, ''Are you all right, Chastity?"

    "Yes."

    A smile touched her lips, and he lowered his mouth, consuming it. He pulled back reluctantly, drawing her with him as he rolled to his side. Satisfied only when the warm, naked length of her was stretched fully against him, he held her there, somehow unable to release her. Her gaze locked with his as he said, "It's still raining. The team had a hard time in the river. The horses should rest for a while. I think we should, too."

    He kissed her again. Her lips separated, accepting the probing warmth of his tongue. His heart began a new pounding as he pressed his kiss deeper and Chastity's flesh molded itself instinctively to his. His hunger stirring anew, he drew back, cupping her cheek with his palm, wanting to etch each delicate detail of her face into his mind as he whispered, "I'll unhitch them… let them graze for a while."

    Chastity nodded. The catch of her breath as he dipped his head to press his mouth lightly to her breast, then seized the nipple for a lingering kiss, sent new tremors of yearning down his spine. His heartbeat thundering, he separated her thighs to probe her moistness. He slipped inside her, closing his eyes briefly as her body shivered and ecstatic emotions rose again full bore.

   Reed moved within her and his heart began a new pounding. A world of loving hunger in his tone, he whispered huskily, "I guess the horses can wait."

Chapter Eight

    "I bet you're all glad the sun is shinin' this mornin'."

    The men turned cautiously toward Morgan as he emerged from the bedroom and walked into the main room of the cabin. They did not respond.

    Morgan looked at Conchita where she stood beside the fireplace. She did not turn in his direction. He knew the reason. He'd sent her away, and he had never done that before. He supposed that lent credence to the talk about the red-haired woman in her mind, but the truth was, he didn't really care. After a long day in the rain, he had not been of a mood to pander to the feelings of a sensitive whore.

    Morgan pulled out a chair and sat down at    the table, watching as the men filled in the chairs around him. Conchita put the biscuits on the table. He did not question where or how she had spent the night. He knew that if Turner or any of the others put a hand on her, she'd cut it off.

    A familiar annoyance surged inside him. Turner and Bartell thought he didn't know that they had both tried to bed Conchita while he was gone. If he hadn't known that it was just a waste of time on their parts, he would've faced off with them about it. Instead, it had merely irritated him. The truth was
,
he didn't really care who Conchita went to once he turned her loose. And he intended to do just that as soon as he got back from Sedalia.

    There was something about the red-haired witch that set his blood to rushing hot even at the thought of her. He hadn't been able to get her out of his mind. He didn't expect to have much trouble finding her when he got back to Sedalia. How many women looked like her, with that bright red hair and skin like warm cream? He wanted a taste of that cream, and he intended to get it. Walker's comments aside, he knew that the red-haired witch was his for the taking. He had seen that look in a woman's eye too often not to recognize it.

    But, with the return of sunshine and a better mood, he was beginning to feel he had made a mistake in turning Conchita away the previous night. It could be a week until he could start back for Sedalia. He could use her until then.

    His thoughts interrupted by a crashing sound, Morgan turned toward the fireplace to see that Conchita had dropped the second tin of biscuits. He saw her flush as the men laughed at her clumsiness. He spoke up opportunely.

    "What's the matter, Conchita?" He waited until she retrieved the biscuits and placed them on the table before he affixed an apologetic smile on his lips and said, "Come over here, darlin'." He saw her hesitate and repeated, "It's a new day and
yesterday's
in the past." He caught and held her gaze. "Come on."

    He took her wrist gently as she approached. Her wariness lingered. He ignored it and the men who watched his every move as he spoke to her softly.

    "I've been thinkin'. We're goin' to be finished brandin' here in a few days, and when that's done, I'll be headin' back to Sedalia for a while. I'm goin' to take you with me. There's a real nice hotel there where we can spend some time in comfort, without anybody else around. They've got a nice store there, too, and I'm goin' to take you shoppin'. I'm goin' to get you a new dresssomethin' nice and bright. And some new shoesand some perfume." He waited for her reaction.
"Would you like that, darlin'?"

    Conchita nodded.

    He pressed, "What color dress would you like?"

    Conchita remained wary.

    "Come on… tell me."

    
"Green.
I would like a green dress."

    "All right, green. Now let me see you smile."

    Conchita looked intently into his eyes. She searched his gaze deeply. He felt the tears she restrained as she glanced down at his lips,
then
raised her chin with a wobbly smile.

    Hell, she was no challenge at all…

    Morgan released her. "You'd better pour some more of that coffee so these boys can get started. The sooner we get done out there, the faster we're goin' to make it to Sedalia."

    Conchita moved to his bidding. Her smile faded as she glanced back at him. It amused him to realize that although she had been unable to hold out against him, she was still suspicious… and jealous.

    Herding the men out the door ahead of him when breakfast was done, Morgan saw Conchita's gaze linger on him. He gave her a parting smile that dropped form his lips the moment he pulled the door closed behind him.

    He was striding toward the shed, Walker beside him, when Walker laughed, "You sure do know how to handle women! There was no way I would've thought last night that you'd bring that
puta
around so easy this mornin'. Are you really goin' to take her to Sedalia with you if you go back?"

    "Not
if
I go back…
when
I go back."

    Walker looked surprised. "I thought you
was
just leadin' her on!" He shook his head. "So, you're really takin' her with you."

    "Not a chance."

    
"Wh- what?"
Walker appeared confused.

    "I've got me an appointment in Sedalia, and I'm sure as hell not takin' her with me when I keep it."

    "That red-haired woman…"

    "That's right."

    "You're so sure it'll be worth the trip?"

    "Damned right I am!"

    "What if that woman's got other ideas?"

    "She won't… for long."

    "You don't mess around, do you?"

    "Not when I want somethin' bad enough."

    "And you want her."

    
"Almost as much as I'm goin' to make her want me."

    "You're a cocky bastard."

    Morgan smiled, his gaze darting toward the others as they threw their branding irons on the fire. "Cocky, maybe, but"

    His smile freezing, Morgan looked at the far corral. It was empty, and there wasn't a steer in sight.

    "Damn it!" His agitation returned. "The storm must've panicked the beeves." He turned accusingly toward Turner. "I told you that fencing needed to be repaired. They could've run for miles in that storm last night!" His chest heaving, Morgan spat, "Get your horse saddled, Turner you and Bartelland find those steers! And don't come back until you've rounded up every last one of them!"

    Waiting only until the two men moved resentfully to his bidding, Morgan turned back toward Walker, their former conversation    forgotten as he grated, "If they don't find every one of those critters, I'll take it out of their hides!"

    Livid, Morgan headed toward the shed.