The Fortune (13 page)

“No, of course I have no funds. Declan forced me to leave me while I was washing. I do not usually bring money to the creek.”
 

His hackles rose. “You call him Declan? Do you know him?” Images of a spurned lover chasing her, catching her and taking her spun through his head.
 

“No, I do not know him. I know
of
him though, from New York.” She squirmed behind him, and he pushed aside how good it felt in the wake of his suspicions.

Annoyance coursed through him and perhaps a touch of jealousy. Another ridiculous thing to happen to him after meeting Frankie Chastain. He held onto that anger, nursed it, helped it grow in his gut, churning and bubbling deep inside. “You’d best tell me what you know about him.”

“Perhaps later after you have ceased ordering me about.” She removed her hands from around his waist. “I do not take kindly to being told what to do by a man who has no authority over me.”

John’s fury took over. One moment he was riding Blue, the next, he was standing beside him pulling Frankie off the horse’s back. She squeaked as he held her in the air, his gaze locked with hers. Her green eyes were wide, her lips tight.
 

He growled through clenched teeth, satisfied to see her twitch. “
I
have authority over
you
, Frankie Chastain. Right now
I
am the man responsible for
your
life and
your
future for the next twenty-four hours.”

A frown formed between her brows. “I refuse to accept that.”

“You are a stubborn wench.”

“You are a boorish fool.”

His mouth came down on hers as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Their bodies pressed together, her soft breasts pillowed against his chest. He groaned as heat exploded inside him, lengthening his dick to epic hardness. Elemental, primal, ancient heat.

This was not the flirtatious kiss they’d shared before. No, this was a bruising, out of control mating of lips, teeth and tongues. He lost himself in the sweet depths of her mouth. As they kissed on and on, she wrapped her legs around his waist, placing her heat directly upon his throbbing staff.

He groaned and pressed against her, frustrated by the layers of fabric blocking his way. It felt good, more than good, to push hard, to feel her body cradling his. So he did it again and again. Soon he was thrusting as though he was plunging inside her body, rather than against it.

She moved her hips, meeting his rhythm with her own. Her nipples hardened against his chest and his hands itched to feel them, weigh them, taste them. He wanted to dive into this woman like she was a cool pond on a hot day, to lose himself in her body until neither one of them could move.
 

As their tongues slid and danced together, he kept thrusting, his body alive with arousal, pulsing with each movement. Unbelievably, his balls tightened, signaling his release. It wasn’t possible, but he was about to come in his drawers from kissing Frankie and never touching anything beyond her lips.

She pulled at his shoulders, a soft cry escaping her lips. He felt her shudder as it wracked her body. Then he exploded, stars shot through his vision as his body achieved release. Pleasure ricocheted through him, stealing his breath and his strength.

He sagged against Blue and let Frankie down slowly. She was shaking as much as he was. John hadn’t come in his trousers since he was a fifteen-year-old with a constant erection. It was embarrassing, but at the same time, it had been a powerful release, one that left him weak-kneed and spent.

Her breath came in bursts while he could hardly get enough air in his body. She looked up at him. Her lips were red and plump, making him want to start kissing her all over again.

“What did we do?” Her voice was husky, sending a shiver down his spine.

“We, uh, scratched an itch.”

She smacked his arm. “Do not cheapen me or what we just shared.”

He rubbed his arm, stung more by her words than her hand. “I ain’t trying to cheapen it. Lord, woman, I can barely stand. What do you want me to say? We just humped and came in our drawers? That I want to rip your clothes off and do more than feel your dress against me?”

Her mouth opened and closed twice before she spoke. “I, um. Well, yes, that is exactly what I want to hear.”

John threw back his head and laughed, then picked her up and twirled her around until she yanked at his ear. “You, Frankie, are one hell of a woman.”

Her cheeks pinkened, making his smile even broader. “Thank you,
Monsieur
Malloy.” Her prim tone was offset by the fact she looked like she’d risen from tussling in the sheets with him.

“I think you can call me John now. It doesn’t make a lick of sense to use proper names after what we did.” He enjoyed the way the blush spread across her face.

“I suppose you are correct.” She averted her gaze. “I may never be able to look you in the face again.”

John chuckled and pulled her into his arms. She tucked right under his chin, as though she belonged there. No matter what happened tomorrow, this moment was perfect.
 

“There are a lot of things I wish I could change, Frankie. What we did will never be one of them.” He sighed against her hair.
 

She wrapped her arms around him. He didn’t want to act like a fool in front of her, but damned if his heart didn’t thump when she hugged him. Frankie was a tough woman, smart and strong. Her actions told him she trusted him and perhaps she was feeling the same kind of confused attraction and longing he was.

They were in a mess for sure. He was hogtied to Veronica and she was running from someone or something in New York. There was every chance in the world this was the only moment they would have alone together. He squeezed her tighter.

“Much as I enjoy your embrace, I am having difficulty breathing, John.”
 

He let her go and managed to wipe the expression of longing from his face. “We should get moving. I want to find shelter before it’s full dark.”

The sweetness in her eyes faded, to be replaced by tight anxiety. “You are correct, of course. Can we walk the rest of the way? I am unable to, um, ride.”

He frowned, realizing he had sticky drawers himself. Embarrassing for a grown man. “Yep, let’s walk. I, ah, need a few moments to clean up.”

Frankie nodded and turned away, moving toward Blue, murmuring to the mustang until he snuffled her belly. Stupid horse acted as foolish as his master. John grabbed the canteen and washed up with the meager supply as best he could. He had a damp pair of drawers, but that he could live with.

They walked in companionable silence, the town only ten minutes away. When they reached the outskirts, Frankie moved closer, nearly touching him. He didn’t know if she was nervous, frightened or simply acting the part of his wife. Whatever the reason, he liked her there, close by.

As they entered the town, he knew straight off there was something wrong. Dirt caked on the wood sidewalks, water in the troughs had a skim of green, doors were closed and windows shuttered. A few folks skittered away quickly, never meeting anyone’s eyes or deviating from their chosen path.
 

Something was definitely not right in this little town. There were no more than twenty buildings, ranging from a saloon to a restaurant, a general store, a livery and a jail. A few houses filled in the rest of the street. No hotel in sight, but perhaps there was a room to rent somewhere.
 

A raggedy dog crept out from beneath the sidewalk by the restaurant. One ear was missing and the filthy mutt hadn’t seen much in the line of food in a long while. He whined at them and Frankie melted like butter on a hot skillet.

“
Pauvre chien
.” She reached out and scratched its head.

“It’s going to give you fleas.”

“Do not listen to him,
mon ami
.” The dog peered up at Frankie as if he’d found heaven on earth. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes, I am. My belly is scratching my backbone about now.” John was not jealous of a dog, for God’s sake. That would be ridiculous. “Let’s get to the restaurant.”

“What about him?” She looked up at him as though he was about to pull a steak out of his pocket for the mutt.

“What about him? I ain’t giving him my jerky. I didn’t bring enough for a stray dog and both of us.”

She put one hand on her hip. “Where is your mercy? The poor thing is starving.”

“For all I know, the dog tries to get everyone to feed it. He might have a stockpile of vittles under that sidewalk like a huge squirrel.” John tugged at her arm. “We don’t have time to spend pandering to a dirty little mutt.”

Frankie walked along with him, but she kept looking back at the dog, which of course followed her. Stupid critter was in love, not that John would blame him. Frankie definitely inspired male creatures to act as dumb as stumps.

When they arrived at the restaurant, he tied Blue to the hitching post. The horse shied away from the nasty trough. John used the water left in his canteen to quench Blue’s thirst again while Frankie cooed all over the dog. Weren’t they a pair of fools for animals?

“Ready to eat?” He was about to take the last swig of water when Frankie turned to face him. Instead of drinking it, he handed her the canteen. “You might want to wash your hands and face before you eat.”

She glanced at the dog, who looked up at her adoringly. “Am I dirty?”

John nodded. “Yes, you sure are, and I’m not sure what that mutt got on your hands either.”

“Very well.” She took the canteen from John and rinsed her hands and face. When she used her wet hands to tame some of the curls springing up around her head, an image of her with that beautiful mane down around her shoulders hit him. He stood there like an idiot, lost in a fantasy, as she tried to give him the canteen. “
Merci
.”
 

He shook himself mentally and tucked the canteen into his saddlebag, trying not to let her see how distracted he was. Distractions were dangerous, especially in unknown territory. What he did know was they’d need to find fresh water before leaving tomorrow or they wouldn’t make it back to the wagon train. Beyond that, he needed to focus on their situation, not on Frankie Chastain.

John held out his arm and, with only a slight hesitation, she took it. He pulled her close, reveling in the way her breast nearly rested on his elbow. He wasn’t distracted though, not at all. They needed to act the part of a couple traveling through town. Yes, that was the only reason.
 

As they walked up the few steps into the restaurant, the dog lay down in the dirt next to Blue. An unlikely pair, just as he and Frankie were.
 

The interior of the restaurant was lit by several gas lanterns, but shadows filled the corners of the small room. Only one table was occupied, all the way in the corner, by a man with a silver star pinned to his chest.

John debated speaking to the local law, but decided against it. For now, they would eat and see what they could find out. They sat down at a table near the window, which let in meager light, more than any other spot in the gloomy restaurant.

A tall woman appeared next to the table, a severe look on her face to match the severe black dress she wore. She was older, with silver at her temples and her hair pulled back into what appeared to be a painful bun.

“You are here for supper?”

John put on a winning smile for her. “Yes, ma’am. My wife and I are looking forward to a fine meal.”

The woman’s expression didn’t even flicker, even at his most charming grin. “Tonight we have ham and green beans.”

“Sounds wonderful. We’ll take two plates and some coffee, if you have any.”

Without another word, the woman spun on her heel and disappeared through a doorway he assumed was the kitchen. She moved silently as though her feet never touched the floor.

“She is not very friendly.” Frankie kept her voice low.

“I’ll agree with you on that. Let’s just hope she doesn’t poison the ham.”

“That is not funny.” She scowled at him.

“I thought it was a little funny. Besides, we need to act like a married couple.”

“Why?”
 

John leaned in close. “Because two people who ain’t married traveling alone have no chance of getting a room for the night. Regardless of how strange this town is, I grew up not far from here, and the attitudes don’t change that fast. No matter what we say, if we ain’t married, we’re guilty sinners.”
 

She perked up, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “You grew up near here?”
 

He didn’t want to go into his childhood or why he didn’t stay. Not now. “Yes, now act like a dutiful wife and smile at me.”
 

“Why?”

“Jesus Christ, woman.” John’s grin was forced. “The sheriff or whoever the man is with the badge is watching us. Smile. At. Me.”

Frankie titled her head and bared her teeth at him. She was remarkably attractive even when she looked as though she wanted to tear him to shreds.

“Whatever you say,
cherie
.”

He knew she said it to look as though she was a doting wife, but he liked the sound of the endearment coming from her lips. A lot more than he should.