Lover's Gold (25 page)

Elaina sagged against the dooijamb, feeling a wave of relief. When she turned around, she saw Ren watching her, his light eyes filled with concern. Why, in God’s name, was he looking at her like that?

“You didn’t really think I’d be that easy to get rid of, did you?” he said softly.

As glad as she was to be free of Oscar Whittington, the seductive tone of Ren’s voice renewed her fury. “Don’t think you can saunter in here the way you did last night. You’re just a paying customer,” she taunted. “You can wait your turn like the rest of them.”

One comer of his mouth curved into an indulgent smile. “So I have to wait in line, do I? What, no special treatment, even for the man who broke you to the saddle?”

Elaina’s fury threatened to boil. Grabbing a dainty flowered vase, intent on ending his mocking smile, she suddenly remembered the look in Sadie Anderson’s eyes when she’d given her the pretty piece of glass. With a trembling hand, she set it back on the table.

“Now that you’ve driven off a paying customer,” she said, “I’d appreciate it if you’d leave.”

“I’m not leaving until we’ve had a chance to talk.”

“Then make yourself comfortable, because I’m not talking to you, now or ever. I think you’re vile and despicable. You don’t care about me. You think I’m

a . . . a”—her voice broke—“whore,” she whispered and blinked against an unwelcome blur of tears.

Ren moved closer and, though she tried to hold him away, gathered her against him. “Elaina, please, listen to me.”

She twisted free, her voice ragged. “Get away from me. You’ll only hurt me. You shouldn’t have come here. You should have let things be.”

Ren set his jaw, his eyes dark as his own ire began to build. “You’re going to listen to me if I have to tie you to the bed,” he threatened, feeling a familiar twinge in his loins as he conjured the image. “Maybe that’s the best idea I’ve had so far.” He took one ominous step in her direction, and Elaina backed away.

“All right,” she agreed a little nervously, “I’ll listen to what you have to say. But only because you leave me no choice.”

“No choice at all,” he confirmed, his look traveling over her from head to foot. In her tussle with the youth, the combs had slipped from her hair, leaving it a tumbled mass around her shoulders. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips just a little bit pouty. Under any other circumstance, he would pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless, forcing her to respond as she had the night before.

Instead, he laced her stiff fingers through his warmer ones and led her to the settee. “Sit down,” he ordered. She lifted her chin, but did as she was told.

“First of all, I know you’re not a whore.”

“No you don’t. You’re just saying that to . . . to take advantage of me. One night wasn’t enough for you. You’re just—”

“Damn you, Lainey, will you be quiet?” His grip tightened on her fingers. “I’d like nothing more than to bed you again,” he told her, “but not because I think you’re a whore. Last night I saw Willie Jenkins leaving your room, saw him give you a wad of money. I know what goes on upstairs in Chase Cameron’s place.” He paused, steeling himself to tell her the truth. “I guess I let my imagination run away with me.” And my jealousy, he added to himself. She watched him intently, trying to read his expression. “I guess I was also looking for an excuse to make love to you. I wanted you badly.” He cleared his throat, adding a little gruffly, “I still do.”

For the first time that night her look softened.

“Today I met Willie Jenkins,” he continued. “He told me the truth about what happened in your room last night. I’m sorry, Elaina. So sorry. I should have had more faith in you. I should have trusted you.”

His words seemed to crumble her resistance. “Oh, Ren,” she whispered, and he heard the catch in her voice.

Burying his face in her hair, he kissed her neck, her cheeks, then covered her lips with his. As his tongue slid inside her mouth to taste the warmth within, she swayed against him, her soft breasts pressing against his chest. With a groan of resignation, he forced himself to pull away.

Elaina stiffened. “I’m sorry. I . . . we shouldn’t have done that. I know you’re a married man and I—”

“I’m not married, Elaina.”

Her heartbeat quickened. “Not married? But I thought the wedding was May twenty-third.” A date she would never forget.

“Jacob Stanhope postponed it when I didn’t return from Keyserville on time.”

Tears of happiness filled her eyes. Throwing her arms around his neck, she pressed her cheek against his and heard him groan. Gentle fingers freed him from her embrace as he drew away.

“The wedding’s only been postponed. That’s what I came here to tell you.” Light blue eyes, piercing in their intensity, pleaded for understanding, but Elaina felt none.

“You’re going through with it?” she asked, her voice brittle, her mind refusing to grasp the meaning of his words. He was free. He had made love to her, been with her as no

man ever had, no man ever could, and yet he planned to marry another. Dear God, she prayed, don’t let it be true. “I have to marry her, Elaina. I have no choice.”

Tears coursed down her cheeks, but her fury, now uncontained, blotted all but the words he was saying.

She came to her feet, slender hands balled at her sides. “You . . . you callous, deceitful bastard! How dare you come back here! How dare you use me like some harlot!” She backed away from him. This time when she picked up Sadie Anderson’s pretty flowered vase she saw only the sky blue eyes and hard lines of Ren Daniels’s handsome face, and she wanted to destroy him. Fingers trembling against the smooth surface of the glass, she hurled the vase at him with all her might. “Get out of here!”

Ren ducked and the vase crashed to the floor, shattering into a thousand tiny pieces.

“Get out!” she repeated. “If you ever come back here, I’ll shoot you!” She searched the room for something else to throw, but in two long strides he caught her wrists and hauled her against him.

“Listen to me, Elaina. I didn’t come here to take advantage of you. I came to help, but when I saw you again I . . .” He glanced away. “In the beginning, I agreed to marry Melissa Stanhope because I wanted the power and position the Stanhope alliance would bring. I wanted respectability, acceptance into society. Since then, I’ve achieved my own success, and I’ve discovered the rest is unimportant.” With the tip of his finger, he lifted an angry tear from beneath her lashes. “I just didn’t realize
how
unimportant until I met you.”

Tawny eyes met his, obviously not convinced. “Then why are you going through with the marriage?”

“I have an obligation to Jacob, a commitment. You more than anyone ought to know why I have to keep my word.” He looked at her hard, his own ire building again. Why couldn’t she understand? She’d said those same things about her engagement to Chuck Dawson, and if Dawson hadn’t treated her so badly, Ren had no doubt she would have gone through with her plans.

“An obligation?” she repeated. “Does your obligation to Melissa include spending hours in another woman’s bed?” Elaina jerked away. Just hearing the Stanhope woman’s name on Ren’s lips had set the blood pounding in her ears. She wanted to punish him, hurt him as he hurt her. Clenching her teeth, she drew back her hand and swung with all her strength. Ren caught her wrist.

“I warned you, Elaina, never to try that again.” He pulled her close, fitting her body perfectly to the length of him. With his mouth set in a grim line, he looked as though he wanted to murder her.

“Damn you!” she cursed, struggling futilely to free herself. “Damn you to hell!” She could feel his anger as he held her with little effort. His eyes raked her, his gaze drawn to the curve of her bosom, rising and falling beneath her high-necked dress. Even through the thick folds of her skirt, she could feel his manhood pressing against her.

Lacing his fingers through her hair, he pulled her head back punishingly. With an anguished groan, he claimed her mouth, his kiss fierce, possessive, as if he would never let her go.

Elaina’s knees went weak. She sagged against him, and only his arms wrapped tightly around her kept her from falling. She felt his hands beneath her knees; then he lifted her and in long strides carried her to the iron bed in the other room. He fumbled with the buttons on her dress, then gave up and ripped the cloth down the back.

“I’ll buy you another,” he mumbled in her ear.

The heat of his hands seared her flesh. Though she wanted to resist, her efforts were feeble, useless. He pulled the dress from her shoulders, baring her skin to his hands and eyes. The cotton straps of her chemise fell away; then, as if by magic, the dress lay in a heap at her feet. She felt his burning lips on her shoulders, the side of her neck, the place beneath her ear. His possession of her was complete;

there was no way to deny it. He owned her, body and soul.

His embrace was exhilarating, intoxicating, filling each of her senses. When his hands stroked her breasts, her nipples hardened, begging him to continue. A sob caught in her throat as his head dipped and his mouth covered the throbbing peak. Thick strands of his wavy hair brushed against her skin and she laced her fingers in the silken mass.

Though Ren had promised himself a thousand times he wouldn’t weaken again, wouldn’t take her as he wanted, as they both wanted, he was a man whose reason had fled. A captive of the beautiful woman whose flesh quivered beneath him, he stroked her heated skin, tasted her honeyed lips, and wanted nothing less than to lose himself forever in the warmth of her body.

His desire more intense with every agonizing second, he laved her breasts with his tongue as he stroked her thighs, wanting the pleasure to be right for both of them. No matter how he wished things could be different, this night would be their last.

A flash of despair nearly blinded him. How cruel life’s jests could be. He moved above her, his shaft hard against the triangle of her womanhood. Easing himself between her ivory thighs, he fought to blot out the pain, filled his mind with thoughts of the heated flesh beneath him—images of golden eyes, upturned breasts, the slim waist and thrusting hips meeting his own heated skin—thoughts of the woman he loved and would leave on the morrow.

He felt another flash of pain as the cold realization hit him.
Love
. He would leave his love forever in this desolate mining town. Give her up to the care of a man like Chase Cameron. He drove into her like a madman, claiming her with every thrust, wanting her to know she belonged only to him. Wishing things could be different. Wishing he could claim her forever. Holding her tightly, he unleashed the fury of his anguish, let the fierceness of their passion swirl him into its stormy depths.

Elaina could feel the heat rising, the ache in her loins building to a crescendo. Ren had never loved her like this, never filled her with such reckless abandon, such driving need. It sent her senses spinning. She felt possessed, controlled, desired, and loved all at the same time. Her body burned and ached and pounded and thrust. On fire, she tensed, consumed by the flames. As she burst upon the glittering embers of their passion, she cried out his name, and he whispered hers as he followed her to release.

Mindless swirling pleasure gave way to calm. She let him pull her against him, curl her protectively in the circle of his arms. There were no words of comfort. There was nothing left to say. She prayed he wouldn’t leave; she couldn’t face the empty night without him. Tomorrow would be soon enough. Tomorrow, with the sunlight at her back, she could say good-bye.

She entwined her fingers in his thick black hair and pulled his head down to receive her kiss. She would steal his heart this night, leave him nothing of himself to share with his bride. Tonight he was hers and hers alone. Tonight she would live and love and pray that the morning would never come. She wondered what price her own heart would pay, wondered who the real victor would be and, as she felt his gentle touch, felt his lips caressing hers, knew it would not be she.

“It’s time, pretty lady.”

The words, gently spoken, wrenched her heart.

“So soon?” Her voice sounded hollow, empty, just like her soul.

“The longer I stay, the harder this will be on both of us.”

She nodded. “I know.” She kept her back to him as they stood in the parlor. They had freshened up. She wore a simple lavender batiste dress with a scoop neckline, and her hair hung loose almost to her waist. She could hear his muffled footsteps on the calico hooked rug as he approached, but she hadn’t the strength to face him.

“I’ll never be able to see lavender without thinking of you,” he told her, his voice husky. She felt his long, firm fingers on her shoulders; then he was lifting her hair and kissing the back of her neck.

“Please,” she pleaded, her careful control ready to crack. “Let me lend you some money. You can pay me back whenever—”

“No, Ren, you know that’s not what I want.”

“Last night . . . your dress. At least let me—”

“The dress can be mended. Please, Ren, don’t say any more.”

“How can I leave you here, Lainey? Do you know what it does to me to think of you here alone?”

“I’m not alone,” she whispered. “I have friends here.” His fingers bit into her shoulders. “Friends like Chase Cameron?”

She stiffened and pulled away, turning to face him at last. She needed her anger now, needed it to keep her sane. “Yes, friends like Chase. He’s been good to me—and he never treated me like a whore.”

The words stung like a slap. He reached for the black hat hanging on a peg beside the door, ran a hand through his wavy hair, then pulled the hat low across his forehead. Maybe it was better to leave her this way, with her tawny eyes flashing in anger, her shoulders proud. If she looked at him just once with love in her eyes and asked him to stay, he would. He would stay no matter how he hated himself for it later. No matter how much he’d regret breaking his faith with Jacob.

“Good-bye, Elaina.” As he opened the door, he allowed himself the luxury of one last glance. Elaina stood in the middle of the room almost regally, her head held high. A few thick, dark curls cascaded over her shoulder. Her tawny eyes were dry; no sadness showed in their golden depths. Her bosom heaved slightly as if her effort to maintain her control was strained to the limits of her endurance. He felt his own control slipping badly. His hand shook as he pulled open the heavy door. He could feel the brisk morning air, the sunlight against his tanned skin, but they couldn’t ease the tightness in his chest or the lump that swelled in his throat.