My Angel (16 page)

The moment was wild and passion-filled.

He swept her into his arms and walked with her to the driest part of their shelter. "You are beautiful," he whispered, his breath touching her cheek. He smelled of tempest and fire, of wild, wild winds and unyielding strength.

He left her there for the time it took him to dress. When he came back, he pulled her into his arms. "Feel better?" he asked.

"Yes." She snuggled next to him, absorbing the warmth he offered, content to let the man of her dreams hold her. More knowledge about passion and love would follow, not today,
perhaps not tomorrow, but she knew that soon he would make love to her and she would give all of herself to him. Then she would teach him to love her in return.

"Where are we going?" she asked, while she idly ran her hands across the muscles of his chest.

The moment that Alexi had dreaded had come. Not for one second had he doubted her willingness to become his mistress. But this question had tormented him.

He held her hand in his, their fingers intertwined. The tempest howled around them. "
Europe
," he said softly. "Would you like that? To see the world with me? We can go to
England
, then
France
and perhaps on to
Constantinople
."

Raw thunder filled the air.

Angela moved away from him. Instantly he felt the separation, the coldness that would surely come between them. She brought his hand to her lips and kissed each finger, a gentle smile on her face.

Lightning ripped the sky in half.

"Yes." The single word was a breathy whisper surrounded by the raging storm.

In her eyes he saw that she would go anywhere with him. His free hand rose to lift her chin higher, to demand confirmation of what he saw.

She answered. "I've always wanted to see the world."

His fears eased. She brought his hand back to his lap, her fingers resting on his arousal. He held his shudder of masculine desire in check.
The little hellion.

"
Constantinople
," he said. "My father lives there."

Her eyes were wide, her fingers moving gently upon him, stimulating him to a simmering current of unleashed passion. He felt battered and bruised, with only one solution to the wonderful sexual ache she did little to assuage with her shy yet wanton attentions. He didn't know how she maintained the act--practiced courtesan one minute, innocent virgin the next.

"Little hellion,'' he whispered, his tongue tracing the delicate pink shell of her ear. She purred for him.

His heart stopped.

"I thought I was your angel."

"Not when you toy with me and play games at my expense."

She looked at him with questioning eyes.

"You know exactly what you're about."

Her tempting pink tongue moistened her lips, her lashes lowered and she moved closer to him. Through her white shirt he could see the rosy tips of her breasts, could almost taste their sweetness.

"Of course I do," she admitted. "I mean to seduce you."

"And you're doing a fine job of it."

Angela ran her finger down the deep vee of his shirt. He'd tucked the length into his pants but had not buttoned it. Her fingers touched the top of his pants. He throbbed beneath the fabric, longing for her and her pleasure-drenched warmth.

Allah, why had he decided to wait for feather pillows? This little wanton did not need wooing. She needed hot and unbridled carnal delights. She could teach the women in his father's harem a few tricks of her own.

She ran her fingernail back to his throat, his muscles tensing in ardent anticipation of a sensual act that wasn't yet to be.

"Then I'll have to make sure you receive your just deserts."

He nipped her ear lightly. Without hesitation he leaned down, his mouth closing over her nipple, and through the white linen he suckled and teased. He ravished her breast with his teeth then turned to the other one.

He delighted in the sounds she made and the raw, primitive thrusting of her hips against his own. Covering her with his body, he let her softness ease him. There were ways to make her purr with sexual anticipation. He would do all that then he would watch her climax. He wanted to see her eyes at the moment her muscles spasmed and he brought her to the ultimate physical release.

"Little mistress mine, you'll melt in my hands."

Her fingers slipped beneath his shirt and teased his male nipples; her nails scraped across his flesh to the line of his pants again and again.

Her nails moved back and forth.

Her shirt ripped, buttons flying from their fastenings and scattering on the ground.

"Alexi."

His name on her lips rilled him. "Easy," he whispered. "I'm going to make you soar on the wings of the storm. Just hold on for the ride, sweet angel."

In seconds she lay naked beneath him. Her breasts were perfect, her waist narrow and her hips widely feminine. The soft expanse of curls at the apex of her thighs begged for his touch.

When his fingers dipped into her soft recesses, she jerked, her eyes widening.

"Alexi!"

She sounded panicked.

"Hush," he said, and kissed her lips, easing his tongue inside her mouth. His finger followed suit more intimately in her warm sheath.

Allah, but she was hot and tight.

He found the small bud of her wildest desire, deep in her feminine folds, and caressed her, her hips moving in rhythm with him. One with her at this moment, he understood her most urgent needs and granted her every wish.

She cried out in little mews and purrs. Even though she tried to speak, only one coherent word passed her lips. "Alexi..." she said again and again. The sound satisfied him.

And then not even his name passed her lips. She writhed against his hand, making sounds of gratification and crying out her passion and the pleasure of her release. Seconds passed and her body rhythm slowed, adapting to the tender ministrations he offered.

"You'll ride me, my sweet concubine. Soon, but not tonight, I will be deep inside you and I'll feel you pulse against me. Soon," he said.
Very soon.

She turned her face into his shoulder when he wanted to look at her passion-filled eyes.

"Shy?" he asked, stunned by the thought and the inconsistency it presented. "Modesty has no place between lovers," he said as he ran his fingers down the length of her spine. In the aftermath, he held her close.

He felt suddenly angry. The pretense and the acting did not sit well with him, and he wondered what game she played.

Chapter Six

Four days later Angela and Devil rode out of
Cheyenne
on the train headed east. The accommodations were not what Alexi had told her they would be. Instead of his private car with all the luxuries money could buy, they rode with the other passengers on hard seats. They had no place to sleep, and Alexi's frustration and anger at the situation ate at her. His promise of a bed and pillows was unfulfilled.

Emma's rescue and the arrest of Stevens and Velvet leBon had made the front page of the paper in
Cheyenne
. Stevens's crimes had gone undetected for so long, the revelations at the trial were like the stirring up of a hornets' nest. Stevens had used his position as a senator to launder money and set up a white-slave trade that reached into
South America
. The list of his crimes went on and on.

Angel yawned and punched her valise into a more satisfying lump. The impatient gesture didn't work. Wide-eyed, she watched the endless miles of the
Kansas
prairie roll by. Occasionally she saw animals and here and there a farm. Mostly she saw miles and miles of billowing grasslands.

In the early afternoon there had been another wild storm, rain and hail pelting the ground. The storm had cooled the air somewhat, making the ride more bearable. Now sunset approached, one star shining low on the horizon.

She wondered how it would feel to once again be free as the wind, to feel as one with the earth. She wanted to ride Kangee across these wide-open prairies.

On the bench in front of her a smudged-cheeked urchin peered over the backrest, his brown eyes wide and sorrowful. With a smile, Angela reached out and gave his worn gray hat a little tug. He blinked once then lowered his face until Angela could see only his eyes. She loved children fiercely, and wanted at least two of each sex.

Alexi's children ...

"Peppermint stick?" she asked, trying to wheedle a smile out of the little boy and find her way into his good graces.