Savage storm (3 page)

Cabrielle smiled in return, for his mood was infectiously pleasant. "Aren't you very young for such a job? I thought the

wagon master would be a veteran of many trips along the trail/^

**0h, I am indeed a veteran. I began at a very tender age.*' Seeing that her interest was sincere, Jason related the tale of his first trek upon the Oregon Trail, being careful never to mention any incident which involved even the slightest peril upon the water. She was so charming a companion he was surprised when he looked down and found not a morsel remaining on his plate. Wanting an excuse to continue their conversation, he ordered apple pie, which he ate as slowly as possible while she sipped her coffee and smiled at all his stories as if they were a delight to hear. When finally he could delay no longer, he folded his napkin and placed it beside his dessert plate.

"I promised to arrange for your lodgings. Let's see what's available." He signed the tab for their dinners and, taking her arm, escorted her to the reception desk.

''Miss MacLaren will need a room for the night, just add the expense to my bill."

The thin, balding night clerk swallowed nervously as he explained why that request must be denied. "I am most dreadfully sorry, Mr. Royal, but the hotel if filled to capacity. We don't even have a closet to let."

"Nor do we want one!" Jason replied crossly for it had not even occurred to him that he might be unable to find Gabrielle a room. There were other hotels, but none in which he'd care to leave any woman alone for the night, most certainly not one as lovely as Gabrielle. "I believe you have her luggage. I'll take it please."

"Where are we going?" Gabrielle whispered anxiously, for like Jason she had lost all track of the time and had not realized the hour was late until she'd glanced at the clock upon the wall behind the desk.

"You'll see." Jason carried her one valise in his left hand while he laced the fingers of his right in hers. With long sure strides he led her out the front door and down the sidewalk to the corner of the two-story building. "Clayton and I have a

suite of rooms, the drawing room where we interviewed the young ladies and bedrooms on either side. I'll give you my room, for the rest of the hotels in this town are far too rowdy to serve single ladies."

Cabrielle looked up and down the street. She'd made such infrequent visits to Kansas City that she could not dispute his description of the inns, but she doubted taking his room was a proper solution.

'That is very generous of you, Mr. Royal, but I will be on my own for the rest of my life so I might as well begin tonight. Surely there is one hotel where I'll be safe, even if the other patrons are boisterous."

Displeased that she'd argue, Jason raised his voice to a commanding tone. "Miss MacLaren, I told you I do feel responsible for your welfare. We will go around to the rear entrance and up the back stairs to my room. I will sleep on the couch in the drawing room and that way I'll be certain you are safe. No one will know you slept in my room unless you tell them so, which I trust you have sense enough not to do."

Stung by this rebuke which she regarded as being totally unwarranted, Gabrielle lashed back at him sarcastically. "I've had little need to practice the kind of discretion you're suggesting, Mr. Royal, but I understand why it is to your advantage to protect my reputation."

Jason began to swear, then caught himself before he pronounced a filthy word that he knew would upset Gabrielle even more. He didn't know what had gone wrong between them after they'd spent such a pleasant evening, but something definitely had. Rather than waste time on apologizing, he continued around to the rear of the hotel and then, taking the adjacent stairway, led Gabrielle to the door of his room. He placed her satchel at his feet as he took the key from his pocket, but when he heard someone approaching he hurriedly unlocked his door and nearly shoved the startled young woman inside, grabbing her valise before he followed her into the room. The covers of the high iron bed had been turned down by

the maid and the lamp had been Ht, these courtesies lent the room a romantic mood which he attempted unsuccessfully to ignore.

"What have you packed in this bag? Surely your clothing is not so heavy!" He carried it to the foot of the bed before turning to face her with a far from friendly glance.

Gabrielle untied her bonnet and removed her gloves, placing both on the marble-topped dresser as she replied. "I imagine it is the books which make it such a burden. I should have packed them separately.''

"Books?" Jason was puzzled as to why she'd need more than a Bible which was the only book most people had in their homes. "Do you enjoy reading so much?"

Gabrielle laughed at his confusion. "Why of course, don't you.'

"I know how to read," Jason declared promptly, but seeing that did not satisfy her curiosity, he asked, "What sort of books did you bring?"

"Poetry mostly, a volume of Shakespeare, a novel or two, just my favorites, for I know the winters are long and amusements will be few." That they were standing in his bedroom conversing politely about literature struck her as being ironic since she'd not wanted to take his room in the first place, let alone entertain him there.

"Do you honestly think any of the farmers, one of whom might soon be your husband, will be interested in such a pastime?" Jason asked with a sly grin, but Gabrielle misunderstood his remark.

"Just because a man makes his living from the land does not mean he is stupid, Mr. Royal. I have always planned to be a farmer's bride. Should the man I marry not know how to read I will teach him, and read to him myself while I do."

Thinking he'd be wise to let her think that had been the intent of his question in the first place, Jason agreed. "I am certain he'll appreciate your instruction and be a wonderful pupil. Miss MacLaren." Deciding a strictly professional

attitude was the best choice, he gathered up the things he*d need for the morning and started for the door which connected that room to the drawing room. "I will bid you good night now; you'll find this a comfortable room and FU see you tomorrow at ten."

"Mr. Royal?" Gabrielle followed him to the door, afraid she had offended him by being so reluctant to accept his hospitality. "I want to thank you 2igain for taking me to dinner, and for giving me your room. I didn't mean to appear ungrateful. You have been very considerate, particularly when I'm not even one of those you selected as a prospective bride."

Jason opened the door and tossed his belongings on the nearest chair before he turned back to face her. As she looked up at him, her expression was so sweet it seemed most natural for him to bend down to kiss her good-night. He had meant to do no more than brush her cheek lightly but she lifted her lips to meet his instead. Her lips were soft, opening easily with only slight pressure from his, and she relaxed against his chest with such easy grace that he wound his fingers in her long, flowing tresses. Holding her mouth captive beneath his own, he savored her delicious taste until he could no longer catch his breath. When at last he had to draw away he was stunned by the strength of the desire she had aroused in him, for her kiss had been filled with a promise of passion he'd never felt in any other woman. That it could come from one with such an innocent smile astonished him all the more. His own smile grew wide as he realized she knew far more of the art of love than her very proper appearance had led him to believe.

Gabrielle stared up at the handsome man she'd so recently met and felt her face flood with the bright color of a deep blush. She'd not expected that kiss nor the depth of her own response, and she was horrified by what he must think of her lavish display of affection when they were little more than strangers. Wanting to end the regrettable incident swiftly, she tried to close the door but Jason blocked her way.

"If you need me later, I'll be right here. I meant what I said

at dinner; Til find a way for you to come with us." Jason's admiring glance filled with astonishment as he saw the confusion in Gabrielle's gaze turn to fury. The bright blue of her eyes grew purple with rage as she replied to what he'd meant as reassurance.

'That is not a very subtle hint, Mr. Royal. Is it a bribe you expect? Well, if you think I'll sleep with you tonight, or on the way along the Oregon Trail you're wrong! If there is not a place for me with the other brides tomorrow morning, then I will earn my own passage in a respectable fashion! Good night!"

Jason was so startled by her angry outburst that he had to dodge out of the way to avoid being injured as she slammed the door in his face. He could not understand how the remark he'd meant to be comforting could have been so badly misinterpreted, but as he stood there contemplating the question, he realized the innocence of his comment was not the issue—it was the ardor of his kiss. No, damn it! It was the ardor of her kiss which had inspired him to return it!

"Women!"

He swore loudly and with a swift kick he hit the connecting door between their rooms. In response he heard Gabrielle turn the key in the lock and cursed again. Well she could just find her own way to Oregon now, for he'd be damned if he'd take a vixen like that and wish her upon one of the good-natured farmers who was waiting for a bride. That idea appalled him so greatly he turned his back on the door as if it might respond to his anger, but gradually, as his reason returned, he knew he had to take Gabrielle home with him if for only one purpose, to teach her how wrong she was to think she was through with love. Love was for the living to enjoy, and she was far too desirable a young woman to have only the beauty of a memory to warm her nights. That one kiss had been enough to convince him she would be a delight in his bed. He wanted to make her purr with pleasure, to hear her sob his name as the ecstasy he knew he could bring her poured through every inch of her most splendid female body. He had never wanted any woman as

desperately as he now wanted the vibrant beauty in the next room. He had not imagined her to possess such a fiery disposition, and he suddenly felt an unexpected pang of sympathy for her recently deceased aunt. Surely her impetuous niece had driven the woman to an early grave. He vowed not to let Gabrielle get the best of him again and, with a deep chuckle, went to find Clayton. He knew where the man would be enjoying himself. Jason could scarcely wait to sample similar pleasures. Kansas City had many gorgeous women, and if he couldn't have Gabrielle MacLaren that night, he planned to be content with the affection of several others.

"^/u^/i/e^JJ

Rushing from his bedroom toward Jason's, Clayton Home hahed abruptly in the center of the drawing room when he saw his friend seated upon the couch. The young man was dressed in his gray suit, neatly groomed in preparation for the morning's meeting, but he sat with his head in his hands, clearly unready to face anyone as yet.

"You've only yourself to blame for the miserable way you feel, Jason, but that's slight consolation I know."

Although he was fifteen years older than the handsome young man, Clayton regarded Jason as his closest friend. Their travels together had forged a bond of trust which both valued; still, Clayton was fond of giving advice although he knew Jason seldom heeded his words.

Jason looked up with a wicked grin. "It was worth it. Clay, every last minute."

Clayton laughed as he shook his head reproachfully. "At my age, it's a choice between liquor or the ladies, and I can tell you women are one pleasure I will never give up. Besides, I feel better this morning than I have in years which is one boast you certainly can't make."

Jason knew he had not simply gotten drunk; he'd gone way past mere inebriation. He considered himself lucky to have found his way back to the hotel even though it had been after

five A.M. when heM managed to do so.

"You know I never drink a drop on the trail, so I can tolerate a hangover or two when I'm in Kansas City."

Clayton chuckled at that thought for he knew Jason to have remarkable powers of recovery which he'd admired on more than one occasion. Pausing before the mirror, he patted his hair hoping to make the unruly sandy waves follow the shape of his head rather than stick out in all directions as they tended to do despite his lifelong efforts to tame them. His tan skin showed only a few slight wrinkles at the corners of his clear blue eyes and he was quite pleased that he looked so fit that morning when Jason had plainly overindulged himself. Satisfied with his appearance, he turned around.

"That's good to hear, for I need your advice on a problem which has just presented itself. We must make a decision immediately and since you had far more opportunity than I did to speak with Miss MacLaren, I'd value your opinion."

Clayton knew he was the more deliberate of the two. He pondered questions for days while Jason would give a matter no more than a moment's consideration before rendering a decision. That Jason's judgments were nearly always superior caused Clayton considerable chagrin, but he had made no attempt to adopt the younger man's far swifter mode of thinking when he feared he simply lacked the intelligence to do so.

Because of the intense pain which throbbed in his head, Jason doubted he could give a fair opinion on any subject, let alone the volatile Miss MacLaren.

"Why do you ask?"

Clayton pulled up a chair and sat down opposite his friend. "Do you recall meeting a man named Joshua Taylor back home?"

"No. Should I?" Jason asked cautiously. He sat up straight and tried to focus his eyes upon his watch. They still had an hour before the meeting would begin, and he had expected to use that time to rest. He yawned sleepily, then tried to give

Clayton his attention; but that was a difficult task.

"Well, I was hoping you knew him because while the name's familiar I can't seem to place the man/' Tapping a thick white envelope against his fingertips, he explained. ''I found this letter at the desk when I went downstairs for breakfast this morning. Food is something you might consider, by the way. The letter is from Mr. Taylor and he says he's sorry he took so long to make up his mind, but he wants to come in on our venture. He enclosed the amount the others paid plus a little something extra for our trouble. He wants us to bring him a bride too."