Broddock-Black 05 - Force of Nature (20 page)

As they passed the whiskey bottle back and forth, Jo’s already stimulated and whetted senses were feverishly quickening. Her sleek flesh was stretched taut around the billiard ball, the cool ivory sphere securely lodged, her engorged tissue pulsing around it, a glowing heat beginning to infuse her body, rippling upward through her vagina in a tantalizing, illusive pulsing that disturbed her torpid languor. She tried to move, reaching for the strangely insistent, inexplicable delight.

A hard knock on the door echoed through the room.

But the restless urgency bringing her awake, altering her breathing, burning through her body required all her concentration. She took no notice of the intrusive sound.

Nigel nodded toward the door. “We have visitors.”

“Not now, we don’t have visitors,” Hugh said, firmly, striding to the table. “I’m about to mount this wet cunt. Look at her, she’s on fire.”

As she drifted in and out of consciousness, an eddying frenzy was swirling inside her: carnal urges, powerful lust, a rapt feverish wanting, all converging where the hard surface of the billiard ball met her pulsing flesh, where the solid ivory pressed firmly against her clitoris.

As Hugh began climbing up on the table, some primal sense of survival wakened her and she stiffened and tried to rear back at the sight of the fat man grunting and struggling to reach her.

The rapping at the door had intensified and she heard it for the first time, the frantic tattoo echoing faintly in her beclouded brain.

“Someone should answer that,” Nigel said, sober enough to understand that their caller’s persistence had significance but not quite sober enough to move.

“Fuck no,” Hugh growled, finally managing to heave his corpulence up on the table. “Go away!” he shouted.

“It’s urgent, Smith says!” a voice shouted back.

“It better be urgent,” Langley muttered. “Stay there, Hugh,” he added with a casual wave. “I’ll be right back.” And turning from the table, he slowly walked toward the door. Opening it a moment later, he listened to the servant and then slammed the door shut. “The machine guns have been spiked,” he said, so inebriated his voice registered no concern.

“Bloody bastards,” Hugh declared, irritably, sitting down on the table. “They weren’t supposed to be here until this afternoon.”

“It is afternoon,” Nigel pointed out with a sweep of his hand toward the clock on the wall.

“Hell and damnation, their timing could have been better. I’m about to fuck this hot bitch,” Hugh resentfully muttered.

Langley was making his way back, his stride erratic. “Is it too late to call off this meeting?”

“Shit, yes,” Hugh grumbled, his gaze shifting to the clock. “You’re going to have to wait for my cock, bitch. Hell, maybe you can watch Flynn swinging from a rope while I fuck you.” Jo heard Flynn’s name and galvanized by the sound, her brain came transiently to life, Hugh’s sentence replaying itself to her horror. With every shred of will she could dredge up, she tried to concentrate, to bring the world into focus, understanding how critical clear thinking was to that moment.

Nigel gazed at his friend with an incredulous look. “Are you mad, Hugh? You heard the guns are useless!”

“We still have plenty of firepower without them. And we have the cunt Flynn was sleeping with. That’ll make him squirm,” Hugh said with a wicked chuckle. “Get Smith!” he shouted, enthralled with the amusing possibilities in his newest drunken fantasy.

The sound of running feet and the slamming of a door gave evidence that his orders had been heard. Smith arrived almost immediately; he must have been waiting nearby for instructions.

Smith averted his eyes from the woman on the billiard table, conscious of the peril in being party to such a gross outrage. Frank had filled him in on the Englishmen’s latest stupidity; he didn’t move from the doorway.

“What the hell is going on?” Hugh inquired, curtly, sitting like a squat potentate on the table. “Wasn’t anyone watching the guns? What the fuck did we hire you for?”

Smith thought that he’d never seen a sorrier bunch of so-called men in his life. Not only did they have to tie up a woman to get sex, but they were stupid enough to pick the woman most likely to send them to their graves. “They came early,” he said, his voice level. “No one saw them, no one heard them. They’re like shadows, you know that. And Flynn’s here now for your parley, along with Hazard Black, his son, and a couple hundred men. This might be a good time to reconsider your plans.”

“Thank you for the update, Smith,” Hugh said with the insufferable insolence that had made the English aristocrat loathed in much of the world. “But I’m not concerned with changing my plans. No red man or yellow devil can hold a candle to an Englishman. The British Empire covers the globe, Smith. And there’s a reason for that. An Englishman can’t be defeated.”

“God Almighty, Hugh, you should be a politician,” Nigel said, sourly. “And you don’t shoot any too straight if you recall. So I wouldn’t get too damned righteous about undefeated Englishmen or someone might put a bullet through your fat arse.”

Hugh turned a venomous gaze on Nigel. “You’ve been dragging your feet from the beginning. Someone might think you’ve got a yellow streak down your back.”

“Fine. You lead the attack on Flynn and Hazard then. I’d like to see that fucking sight.”

“That’s why we’ve hired mercenaries.” Hugh lifted his numerous chins, looked down his bulbous nose and glowered at Nigel. “They’re paid to shoot straight. We don’t have to. Boyden might have been thickheaded enough to put himself in the middle of things, but I have no intention of leading any damned charge.”

“I’m relieved,” Nigel murmured. “There won’t be any need to send another coffin back to England.”

“Come, Smith,” Hugh commanded, heaving himself off the table and dropping heavily to the floor. “Let’s go and parley with these curs. I think you’ll find I have a very good hand to play even without the Maxim guns.” He turned to Nigel. “And if you have the courage, come along.”

“Ah’m cornin’,” Langley said, his words half-slurred. “Wanna see that yellow devil Flynn checkmated.”

“Watch and learn, my friends,” Hugh asserted, arrogantly, moving toward the door. “An earl’s son knows how to deal with the rabble. Put them in their place, Father always said, and keep them in their place with an iron heel.”

As he reached the door of the billiard room, Langley in his wake, Hugh turned around. “Got the guts, Nigel? Or will you follow the boot-licking path of your grandfather. He knew how to make money, but he didn’t know the first thing about honor.”

“Fuck you, Mortimer. My grandfather knew as much about honor as your drunken forebears.”

“If that’s the case,” Hugh retorted, waving his hand toward the hallway. “Here’s your chance to show me your nerve.”

Go, go
, Jo silently urged, as if understanding with some sixth sense amidst the flurry of incomprehensible words and phrases flowing around her that they might be leaving. If she had enough time, perhaps she could free herself from her bonds. With supreme effort, she forced her mind to focus on that single thought. Freedom.

“Screw you, Mortimer. I’ll show you nerve.” Nigel stalked toward the door without a backward glance.

As the men moved down the corridor, the sound of their voices receding, Jo caught a glimpse of Frank in the blur of her vision, saw the door slowly shut.

Turning her head from side to side, she tried to concentrate. Was she alone .. . did she want to be alone—yes, yes .. . she had to be alone to escape. Listen, look .. . yes, the room was quiet. Everyone was gone. Twisting her body, looking upward to survey her bonds, she felt the billiard ball slip out and exhaled in relief from the violent, extreme, goading pressure. Now to see if she could free herself.

F
lynn, Hazard and Trey with a large contingent of men were waiting at the Sun River ford when the Empire Cattle Company troop rode into view.

“None of them ride much,” Hazard noted, observing the three Englishmen in the lead.

Flynn nodded in their direction. “Or do much of anything.” “Except make trouble.” Trey lounged in the saddle, his silvery eyes alert.

“Not for long,” Flynn murmured and nudged his paint forward.

The six men met midway between the armed ranks.

After destroying the trap that had been set for them, Flynn had only come to the parley to give a final warning. Or, depending on the circumstances, finish the job. “Those machine guns weren’t part of the deal,” he said, his dark gaze bland. “Other than that, I’m not sure there’s anything to discuss.” “Perhaps one small thing,” Hugh replied, silkily.

The fat Englishman sat his horse like a greenhorn, stiff and awkward, but his air of confidence was unmistakable.

“If you’ve got something to say, say it.” Flynn tipped his head faintly. “Otherwise, we’ll be getting back.”

The two troops were twenty feet apart, lined up like cav-airy, flanking wings left and right, everybody alert to any movement.

Hugh smiled, an oily, malevolent smile. “I have a friend of yours visiting.”

Flynn looked at him, his dark eyes unwavering. “I don’t play games.”

“Very well. Her name is”—Hugh paused for effect—“dear me, I forgot to ask, but she was staying in your house in Helena when she accepted my invitation to visit. I believe she’s a relative of Mr. Black.”

Flynn slanted a glance at Hazard, a barely perceptible interchange.

“You must want something then.” Flynn’s voice was flat. “Quite a lot actually.”

“I’m listening.”

“I want you off your land immediately. I want you in Helena by noon tomorrow. And if you do what you’re told, you might see the bitch I have tied to my billiard table alive. Is that clear? Do you have any questions?”

“No.” Flynn nodded. “We’ll see you in Helena tomorrow.” Easing his reins to the left, Flynn turned his paint and rode away, Hazard and Trey falling in beside him.

“What the fuck was that?” Langley exclaimed. “Why doesn’t someone shoot them when we have the chance?” Fumbling for his revolver, he tried to draw it from his holster.

“For Christ’s sake, you idiot,” Hugh cried, putting his hand out to arrest Langley’s fumbling. “Don’t you see we have what we want? And everything fell into place, simple as can be. We have his damned land!” he crowed. Turning to Nigel, he offered him a superior look. “Now do you see how it’s done? How a true aristocrat orders the world to his wishes?”

“You fucking idiot. Do you actually think Flynn Ito’s going to turn over his land to you?”

“He will if he wants to see that woman alive again.”

“What makes you think he gives a shit. Scores of women come to his ranch.”

“Well, if he doesn’t care, certainly her father will.”

“Hazard Black isn’t known for his benevolence to those who provoke him.”

“Then, we’ll have to persuade him. Maybe we’ll send them her finger first if they don’t comply. And then another finger and another if necessary, until they eventually see the merit in doing as they’re told. It shouldn’t be too difficult. You simply have no understanding of how to handle the lower orders, Nigel. That’s your problem. You have to make it plain who’s in charge, as the Mortimers have done since the time of William the Conqueror,” he declared with an overbearing swagger. “My father will be pleased to learn we’ve added twenty-thousand acres to our holdings.”

“Hear, hear,” Langley intoned, even in his drunken stupor having recognized the words twenty-thousand acres. “I guess we’ll show our families that we can manage a ranch and turn a profit.”

“We’ll send a telegram from Helena tomorrow,” Hugh declared, his strutting satisfaction in direct proportion to the level of alcohol in his blood. “I expect our allowances will be increased accordingly.”

❧

While the two honorables were gloating over their victory on their ride home, Nigel was wondering whether he’d reach the ranch alive. He wasn’t alone in his apprehension; Smith had already given orders for his men to be on full alert. Flynn Ito wasn’t about to give up his land to God himself after fighting to keep it for so long. As for Hazard Black—he only hoped Hazard’s vengeance didn’t single him out as foreman to these idiots.

As soon as they reached the ranch and his employers were deep in their cups, he was packing his bedroll and hightailing it out of the territory. He’d heard the Holloways were looking for a foreman for their Colorado spread. Hopefully, that would be far enough away to escape Hazard’s wrath.

Nigel kept looking over his shoulder, his plans having to do with a swift return to England, disgraced or not. He’d promise to stay on his parent’s country estate and never go near London again if he survived this disaster.

❧

It required only the briefest of discussions once Flynn, Hazard and their troop were out of sight.

“I’m going in for Jo,” Flynn said. “My men and I know the layout. Hold the Empire crew in the breaks just west of their ranch. They have to come in slow and strung out there.”

“We’ll hold them,” Hazard replied, each word unequivocal.

“Dead or alive,” Trey said with a smile. “Although I’m thinking that fat little fart who likes to give orders would be better off—”

“Save him for me.” Flynn’s voice was sharp. “Don’t forget.”

And spurring his horse, he rode away with six of his men.