Rapture's Rendezvous (42 page)

“Michael, my love,” she murmured, reaching up, caressing his face, his lips, then lifted her lips to his and let his swallow hers in total warmth, softness. She felt the hardness of his body and the urgency in which he was pressing her to him, realizing that this night held more than mere talk for her. She was going to let him guide her into another world that included only their united passions. The desire flooding her became almost painful when his hands reached beneath her cape and found the skimpiness of her attire.

“I'm so glad you came, darling,” he said, now kissing the hollow of her throat after having released the ties of her cape, letting the cape cascade to the floor, to settle around her feet. His free hand reached and closed and bolt-locked the door, then with both arms, lifted her up and carried her to a small bed that sat against a far wall.

“I need you, Michael,” Maria purred, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair, then seeking his lips once again.

“And I you,” he whispered, placing her on the bed.

Maria lifted her night robe, then her chemise over her head, all the while watching him unbuttoning his breeches, feeling anxiety making her head begin to reel. Oh, if only he were her husband. What nights they would share! Every night they would explore one another's body, make their minds soar from within them.

“You don't mind the nastiness of the room?” Michael asked, lowering himself down beside her, stretching his legs next to hers, rubbing his toes up and
down the inside of her thighs.

Maria looked swiftly around her and giggled. “It's not much worse than most houses I've lived in.” she said, seeing the stained, yellowed walls, and the uphol-stered chair that was losing its stuffing in wadded brown masses. One lone window looked back at her with tattered gray curtains. But all that mattered was that she was with Michael, and that Michael needed her as badly as she needed him. Talk would come later. Now she only wanted him to make love to her. Over and over again.

He took her face between his hands and searched it with his blue eyes. “You are all right, aren't you, darling?” he asked softly. “Nathan Hawkins hasn't hurt you in any way?”

She puckered her lips, inviting a kiss. “Hush. Please. No mention of that madman,” she whispered. “Later. Let's enjoy our moments of bliss first. Please, Michael?” She took his hand and guided it between her thighs, parting her legs, letting his fingers enter her. With her other hand, she guided his to a breast, squirming when he began to knead and caress. “I'm so hungry for you, my love,” she whispered.

“I don't wish to disappoint,” he laughed hoarsely, then moved atop her and replaced his fingers with the hardness of his manhood. He began to work in and out slowly, enjoying each and every moment. His lips trailed kisses over her face, then lower, to suckle on a nipple, making slow moans rise upward into Maria's throat. “Oh, how I love you, my love,” she sighed, trembling. “Oh, how I love you… .”

Michael's fingers moved behind her and lifted her
hips to meet his more eager thrusts, groaning with each thrust of his own hips.

She clung to him, pressing her breasts to his own, pleasure sweeping through her like electrical currents, causing her body to move in quick jerks when he reached passion's peak. When his spasms had been quenched, she felt her own come to a halt, then clung even more tightly to him, not wanting this moment of bliss to end. It was always as before. He would make her mind leave her for a brief moment, to be replaced by different colors, melting, blending together. His mouth crushed down onto hers and left her lips as he moved from atop her, leaving her to lie panting, tracing his face with her fingertips.

“You must think me a whore to come in your room and give myself so quickly and easily to you,” she murmured, drawing her lips downward into a pout.

“Only
my
whore,” he laughed, running his hands over her silky curves. “As long as you don't act as wanton with anyone else, who am I to complain?”

Her expression grew serious as she set her jaw firmly. “Alberto told me what you have asked of him, Michael,” she said, moving to an upright position, trembling when his hand reached for her and touched her between the thighs, making a want for him sweep through her once again. But she had come for more reasons than making love. She had to find out about this thing she knew to be dangerous for both Alberto and Michael. Would it in the end be worth it? Could Michael guarantee these things he spoke of for all the Italians? Or was it just because Michael wanted things for his “union”?

Reaching down, she grabbed her chemise and pulled it over her head, then her night robe. She was glad to see that Michael also pulled his breeches back on, this alone helping her to forget her further passions for him.

Michael went to an ashtray and pulled a half-smoked cigar from it and lighted it. He drew deeply from it, inhaled slowly, then began to pace the floor. “Maria, I've been unsuccessful at being able to reach the mine workers,” he grumbled. “It seems most are still too afraid of Hawkins to open their mouths about any grievances they might have. And when I
do
find someone who is willing to listen, they listen, then saunter off, blank-faced. Now what Alberto can do for me is talk to the men while working. He can get them off alone, one at a time and explain the dangers they are working in at that damned coal mine of Hawkins's.”

Maria pulled her legs up to her chest, hugging them. “Is it truly as dangerous as you profess, Michael?” she asked. “And what can you and your union do about it if it is? Nathan owns the mines. No one can take it from him. Why, to do so isn't even American.”

Michael's thick brows furrowed as he continued to chew on his cigar. “Maria, we only wish to speak in behalf of the coal miners,” he grumbled. “We only wish to organize them so they can speak openly of their desires for better wages and safer working conditions. You speak of being American. In no way are any of your people living as true Americans. Can't you see that? That damn coal mine has a bad reputation for ‘bad top'. We need to get investigators in there and demand that Hawkins take care of such shortcomings in his mine.”

“What is ‘bad top,' Michael?”

“Much of the rock over the men's heads is faulted and threatens to fall when the coal which supports it is cut out from under. But that is only one small danger. I know there is danger of explosion. Constantly. Now that I've talked with Alberto, I know that black powder is being stored in the mine in violation of the law and that ventilation is far below adequate safety levels. Damn it, Maria, I predict an explosion soon if something isn't done about all of these things.”

Maria rose and went to Michael to cling to his arm. “But, Michael, what
can
you and Alberto succeed at doing? You even say that you've been unsuccessful up to now. What can Alberto do to make our people listen?”

“After he's had a chance to talk with them all individually, I will give him some secret ballots to pass around for the men to sign stating that they want to join the United Mine Workers of America. And, damn it, if Nathan Hawkins doesn't pay any attention to that, I may have to organize something else, but most unpleasant for that bastard husband of yours.”

“What, Michael?” Maria asked, feeling fear rippling through her. She feared violence … a violence that could possibly cause the death of many. She feared for her Papa, for Alberto, and oh, God, for Michael.

“We'll just have to wait and see,” he grumbled, mashing his cigar out in the ashtray. He turned to her and pulled her into his arms. “But for now, I think you'd best get back to that mansion you now live in. One thing we
don't
need is for that bastard Nathan Hawkins to come looking for you.”

“He's gone from the house. For the night as far as I know,” she said, lowering her eyes.

Michael tipped her chin up with a forefinger.

“Yeah. I know,” he whispered. “But his representatives? They're everywhere.”

“How do you know that Nathan isn't home tonight?” she asked, eyes wide.

“Darling, I make it my practice to know where he is at all times,” he said, laughing sardonically. “This is why I have been chosen to be the union's spokesman in this area. I'm good at what I do. I could even join Pinkerton's men I've got such a good reputation with my men for being so good at investigating.”

“Then where . . . is . . . Nathan . . ?” Maria whispered, looking toward the window.

“He's been in a meeting with his men this whole damn night,” Michael said, sneering. “You see, I also have a couple of my own representatives keeping an eye on things for me.”

“Do you know .. . what sort of a meeting?”

“Not truly. But I'm sure we'll all be finding out soon,” Michael said, moving away from her. He began to run his fingers through the thickness of his blonde hair, pacing the floor once again. “He's got something up his sleeve. I know it. And I will find out. But it sure scares me
not
knowing.”

“Do you expect him to cause more trouble … for you . . . soon .. . ?” Maria whispered, going to him, clinging once again.

“Oh? Alberto told you about the incident at Ruby's?”

“Yes, my love,” Maria purred, laying her head on his
shoulder. “I am so frightened for you. Don't you know that? Why can't you let someone else do the dirty work for your union? Why must it be you?”

“Like I said. I'm best at what I do.”

A light tapping on the door drew Maria's breath from inside her. She recoiled, putting her hands to her mouth.

Michael inched his way to the door, then jerked it open quickly. “Alberto, you scared the shit out of me,” he said, now laughing.

“One of your men alerted me, Michael. They've seen some of Nathan Hawkins's men leaving the building where they've been meeting all night,” Alberto said, entering the room. “Maria, you've got to leave now.” His eyes raked over her, seeing the disarray of her hair and her night robe. He stooped and picked up her cape and thrust it toward her, furrowing his brow. “Now. You must leave with me
now,”
he quickly added. “It's getting a bit uneasy out there in the streets right now.”

“So they've broken up for the night, eh?” Michael said, going to the window, pulling the curtain back a bit, peering outward.

“Seems that way,” Alberto said, helping Maria with the cape. “Your man told me to tell you that Nathan Hawkins hasn't left yet. But he might at any minute. I wouldn't want to be the one caught with Maria in my wagon if he should happen along the road beside me.”

Michael swung around on a heel and hurried to Maria. He pulled her into his embrace and kissed her gently on the lips, brushing her hair back from her face. “You be careful, darling,” he whispered. “That damn fool could even be using you for his evil purposes.
Maybe he has found out some way that you and 1 .. . well. . . knew one another. Maybe he knows who I am and is only playing games. One never knows about such a man. So you just watch yourself. Especially in the darkness of night.”

Maria began to tremble. “Michael, you scare me so,” she whispered.

“Damn it, Maria, I mean to,” he grumbled, kissing her once again. “You have to be on your guard. At all times. Watch that bastard. And if he discloses any information to you, you know to tell either me or Alberto. Maybe between us all, we can manage to settle this thing once and for all.”

Alberto pulled at Maria's arm. “Come on, Maria,” he grumbled. “We must leave.”

Maria reached upward and traced Michael's face, as though it might be their last moment together, forever. “Tomorrow, Michael? In the depths of the tall Indian grasses?” she whispered.

“Tomorrow. . ..” he answered.

She rushed on out to the wagon with Alberto, feeling her heart aching, as though it was tearing from inside her. She glanced back toward the building, then huddled next to Alberto, shivering still, watching all around them as Alberto slapped the reins, urging the horse to move quickly away.

“I am so frightened, Alberto,” she said, sniffling.

“With both Michael and myself to protect you, nothing is going to happen to you,” Alberto said stiffly.

“But when I am alone with . . . Nathan . . . ?”

Alberto reached inside his jacket pocket and handed something toward Maria. “Here. You will need this
more than I ever will,” he said thickly.

“What. . . ?” Maria asked, letting Alberto place a heavy object in her hand. Then she gasped aloud when she looked downward and saw that it was the gun that Alberto had found aboard the ship. Her gaze turned sharply toward Alberto. “The gun? What are you doing . .. with … the gun . . . ?”

“I usually carry it with me,” he said, looking her way, his eyes wavering. “Tonight I almost had to use it when I began fighting alongside Michael. But my fists were weapon enough this night.”

“But. . . what… do you think I can do with such … a violent thing . . . ?”

“Keep it with you. Mainly at night when Hawkins can enter your room and demand from you what you don't. . . want to . . . give him,” Alberto said sullenly. “And when trouble between the coal miners and Hawkins begins wholeheartedly, I want to be sure you are protected in some way. A gun is the best. All you need is to pull the trigger if you are in a position to have to protect your life from either Hawkins or his men.” He looked toward Maria, his eyes having become two dark coals. “Do you understand, Maria? Do you?”

Maria shifted the gun from one hand to the other, not liking the feel of the heavy, cold steel “I don't know, Alberto,” she whispered.

“You had just better heed my warning, Maria,” he grumbled, slapping the reins angrily.

“But you? If I have the gun, what will . . . you . . . have for protection . . . ?”

“Papa has a very adequate shotgun. I shall get it out from storage and shine and clean it. It can do for myself.”

Maria hung her head, feeling the tears wetting her cheeks. “Alberto, I hadn't thought that being in America would mean . .. violence. . . .” she mur-mured.