Orchids in Moonlight (29 page)

It didn't work.

Wrapping the blanket about her as she got out of bed, she hissed,
"Bastardo!
I have been with no one except him, which is the same as having nothing. I was ready for you. Ripe for you. But you cannot say that, can you? How many whores did you take while I was here, living for the night I could be in your arms?"

"That's none of your business." He finished buttoning his shirt and reached for his holster. "Now you can stay here all morning if you want, but I've got things to do."

"No," she squealed, lunging to wrap her arms about his shoulders and press her head against his chest as she pleaded. "Don't go. Not yet. Not till you love me."

Gently, he disentangled himself and held her away from him but kept a good grip on her wrists, because she was plenty riled and he knew from experience what those long nails of hers could do. "Listen, damn it. We both knew when it started it couldn't last forever. You've got everything you want with him, and you're jeopardizing that by fooling around with me."

"He uses me," she wailed. "I mean nothing to him."

"And you use him, so it's a good arrangement, and you shouldn't ruin it. You aren't going to find a better deal, especially from me. I plan to hang around just long enough to raise the money to take me where I'm going, and right now I don't even know where that is."

"But you came back because of me," she accused hotly. "I don't care how many whores you had. It's always been better with me, and you know it, and that's why you're here. You care about me. I don't know who she is or what she did to take you from me, but I'll fight for you, I swear it."

"You never had me to lose. We had good sex. That was all. I told you way back then that you belong to him, and I'll never belong to any woman. That's the way it is, the way it has to be. When you stopped accepting it, I knew I had to back off. That's why I left you, and that's why I never should have come back."

"You made me fall in love with you, and now you treat me like your whore. Let me go, damn you!"

She dipped her head, intending to sink her teeth into his hand, but he saw what she was up to just in time to give her a shove that sent her sprawling backward across the bed. He finished strapping on his guns. "I'm sorry it had to end this way, but you can't say I wasn't honest from the start."

She leaped from the bed and caught him as he made it to the door, flinging herself against him. "You don't mean it. Tell me you don't. Tell me you will see me again, or I swear I'll come to your hut."

Cord turned and gave an exasperated sigh as she stood on tiptoe to shower his face with kisses, her hands all over him at once. Impassively, he stared down at her. "You're bound and determined to get us caught, aren't you? And what then? What are you going to do when he bounces your pretty little ass out and you've no place to go? You're sure as hell not going with me."

"That will not happen," she whispered huskily, stretching to lick and nibble his ear. "I am going to make him marry me, and then I will live like a queen. Till then, I want you for my lover."

"I told you I'd be riding on."

"Then love me as long as you're here. Say you'll meet me tonight."

"And what makes you think you can slip out again? I remember plenty of times I waited here for hours, and you didn't show because he called you to his bed."

Satisfied there would be a few more passionate encounters before Cord rode out of her life, Morena relaxed. "Don't worry about him. He's got other things to think about now."

"Like what?" he asked, not really caring.

She shrugged. "Some crazy woman who thinks he knows where her father is. He was one of the investors in Stanton's last mine, the one that left so many angry. He ran off instead of making good his pledge. She thinks Stanton knows where he is, but he doesn't."

Like a thunderbolt, it came back to him. Jaime had said her father was investing in a gold mine with a man in San Francisco. "What was his name?" he asked and held his breath.

"What do you want to know for?"

"Maybe I know him."

She laughed. "It happened before you came here, but since you're so curious, it's Chandler."

"No, I don't know him," he managed to mumble, every nerve in his body going tight.

"Don't forget," she called after him. "I will be here tonight."

She watched him go, wondering as he disappeared around a cut in the rocks why he was suddenly in such a big hurry.

* * *

Stanton smiled as Jaime devoured the platter of steak and eggs. "I'm glad you're eating this morning. Enolita said you were already asleep when she took your tray last night."

"Traveling all the way across the country and then finding my way here finally caught up with me, I suppose. I appreciate your letting me stay last night. I wasn't looking forward to the trip back to the city."

"I sent the cart and horse back by one of my vaqueros."

She looked up in surprise. "But why? I wanted to be on my way after we talked this morning."

"Where would you go, my dear? What would you do? I want you to stay here. Maybe we can help each other."

She made no comment, waiting for him to continue.

He presented the plan he'd been up all night thinking about. "If I can find your father's mine, I'll work it and share the profits with you. Frankly, though, I'm at a loss as to where it's located. You see, I went to the claims office and had them look up the records, but your father never filed for a stake. Seems he didn't trust anybody. And that's sad, because if someone finds it in the meantime, he has no legal claim. All the more reason you and I should work together. I'll get back my investment, and you'll have money for your future. I'm still convinced his mine has a mother lode. It could be worth millions, but right now it's not doing anyone any good. So what do you say?" He held out his hand.

Jaime looked from it to him and shook her head. "No, I can't accept your offer."

"I'd like to know why not," he demanded, withdrawing his hand as his voice rose along with his ire.

Jaime did not mince words. "As I told you last night, my father gave you a bogus map because he didn't trust you. I intend to do some investigating on my own. If I find out he was justified, I don't owe you anything. If, on the other hand, I find he was wrong, then I'll see you get what's coming to you. I'll make good his pledge."

She jumped, startled, as he slammed his hands down on the table and roared, "That is unacceptable! I will not have you treat me as if I'm a crook."

She responded coolly, undaunted by his explosion.

"Finding my father is my first priority, but I'm also going to try and locate his mine, as well as discover whether yours was a legitimate investment."

His eyes narrowed. "Then you have the map, don't you?"

She forced the lie. "No. But my father wrote and told me approximately where it is. Maybe I can find it." She did not sound convincing even to her own ears.

Stanton leaned back in his chair, satisfied that she did, in fact, possess that map, but for the moment he would play along. "Your father is probably dead," he said then, wanting to unnerve her. "You're all alone."

Jaime closed her eyes, prayed he was wrong, then murmured, "I'll manage somehow. Right now, I suppose I'd better get my things and start walking to San Francisco. I've imposed enough on your hospitality."

She started to rise, but his hand snaked out to clutch her wrist. "No, please don't go yet. I've got another offer."

She sat back down, willing to hear him out to avoid an unpleasant scene but not about to relent.

"Regardless of what you think of me, I did, at one time, hold your father in high regard. We were good friends. So for the sake of what used to be, and because I have nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed of, I'm willing to help you despite how you feel about me. Stay here. I'll finance your investigation, your search for the mine, and when you find it, when you come to realize my own was a legitimate operation, perhaps you will prove your honor by paying your father's debt to me."

She chewed her lip thoughtfully. His offer was tempting, but something made her leery.

"What's wrong?" He chuckled. "Does it bother you so much to think you might discover it's your father who's the swindler? Are you afraid to give me a chance to prove my own integrity? Are you scared of what you'll find out?"

"No, Mr. Lavelle." She looked him straight in the eye, deciding she really had nothing to lose and everything to gain. "After what I've been through the past months, there's not much that could scare me anymore. I'll accept your offer."

"Good. Then it's settled." He smiled, satisfied, and jangled a silver bell to bring Enolita with more coffee.

Jaime accepted another cup, as he changed the subject to brag about his empire, how he had turned a Franciscan mission into a magnificent estate.

She was only half listening, lost in thought as she wondered where to start. Perhaps she should go to Drytown, to the area where the mine was situated. If her father was hiding out there, maybe he'd hear she was around and come to her. Dismally, she realized it was a long shot but she had no other plan for the moment.

She didn't notice that anyone else had come into the room until Stanton bellowed to someone behind her, "What are you doing back? I told you to stay in the city and wait for the ship due in with my crystal chandelier from Austria."

Jaime looked around to see a boyishly handsome man with dark hair and warm blue eyes coming toward her. Ignoring Stanton, he graciously took her hand in his to press it to his lips before introducing himself. "I'm Blake Lavelle, and I know already I'm pleased to meet you." He drew out the chair beside her and sat down, devouring her with his eyes. "God, you're lovely. That hair!" He reached to touch a golden strand. "Tell me, who are you?"

Before she could respond, Stanton said in a bored tone, "Miss Jaime Chandler, meet my son, Blake." He went on to inform Blake. "Her father was one of my investors, and he's dropped out of sight. She's come all the way from the East to try and find him, and I've offered her our hospitality."

"That must have been quite a disappointment to find him missing," Blake murmured sympathetically, "but rest assured, we'll do everything we can to assist, as well as make you comfortable. Will you be staying long?"

"I'm not sure." She wished he would stop staring at her so adoringly.

Suddenly, Stanton decided to take over the conversation. "I think we should have a party to show off both Miss Chandler and the new chandelier," he suggested jovially. "We haven't had a big social in a long time. What do you think, Blake?"

"A splendid idea. We can't keep such a rare and precious treasure to ourselves—and I'm not talking about the chandelier," he added, with a wink for Jaime.

She laughed, relieved the mood had become lighter. "That's kind of you, but I've nothing to wear, and besides, I need to concentrate on searching for my father."

Stanton seized the opportunity to enlighten his son as to Jaime's financial plight. "Unfortunately, our guest is in dire straits. She apparently has no money and very few belongings, but we can take care of that, can't we?"

Jaime looked down self-consciously at the faded dress she was wearing.

Blake's eyes flicked over her, taking in her dimensions and shape. "Yes, you're about the same size my mother was. She had lovely clothes, and they're still hanging in her armoire. You can take your pick."

Jaime had been so absorbed in her own worries she'd not even thought about whether Stanton was married, and now she realized he was actually a widower. "Oh, no." She refused at once. "I couldn't—"

Blake cut in to declare, "You can and you shall. She was a generous person, and if she were alive she'd insist on it herself," He stood, taking her hands to pull her gently to her feet. "I'll start making out the guest list for the party while you go through her things. Be sure to pick out a riding outfit, and I'll take you on a tour of the estate when you're done. Not all of Pointe Grande is situated on a cliff hanging over the sea," he added cheerily.

Jaime found herself being whisked from the table and out of the room. Only moments after meeting Blake Lavelle for the first time, she was entranced by his warm and outgoing personality. His cheerfulness was a pleasant contrast to the gloomy mansion, and she found her spirits lifting.

He held her arm as he steered her through the narrow corridors, talking all the while. "I'm still wondering if you're real. I've been waiting for you my whole life, you know."

"Of course you have," she said playfully. "But I'm not real. I'm a figment of your imagination."

"You mean a ghost? Well, that's all right. A lovely lady ghost is nice after all those dismal Franciscan fathers I've seen floating around. I hope you'll stay awhile."

She become serious. "I'm afraid that would be imposing. Surely in a place as large as San Francisco I can find work and rent a room somewhere."

"I won't allow it," he declared breezily, pausing before a closed door and searching his pockets for a key. "Besides, I'm going to marry you and then you won't have to work."

She stared at him in wonder, not sure whether he was altogether teasing.