Compromised Hearts (7 page)

“Phew,” James breathed. “That sure cut Justine down a notch or two.”

Cloud grinned. “Em can talk like a damn duchess. She better watch it, though. Justine’s got a fierce temper.”

“It ain’t his guiding and guarding you’re fretting about,” Justine hissed, “but that he’ll get too beat up to serve you in bed.”

Emily stared coldly at Justine. In truth, she had not been all that concerned for Cloud. The younger, more slightly built soldier had been little threat to him. Her disgust had been all for Justine, and she had simply wanted to stop the fight that had fed her vanity.

“Justine,” Cloud said in a soft warning as he stood up.

“What’s she got to be so high and mighty for? She’s nothing but your whore.”

That stung and Emily said, in a soft clipped voice, “Your remarks reveal your low breeding.”

The slap Justine delivered nearly sent Emily to the floor. Emily reacted to the attack without any real thought, bringing forth lessons learned when, as a child ignored by her family, she had sought playmates among the children of the servants, children who had put her through many a trial before accepting her and had left her with an almost permanent black eye. As she had done so often back then, she balled up one small fist and delivered a sound right to Justine’s jaw. The taller woman fell unconscious with a soft grunt.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Cloud said quietly, staring at the sprawled Justine.

“Undoubtedly.” Realizing with she had done, Emily began to feel sorely embarrassed.

“Didn’t learn that at a tea party,” he observed with a grin.

“No. From the stableboy.”

“What the hell’s going on here?” bellowed a deep voice.

James hustled Emily and Thornton back to the table he had set right. Cloud took over the chore of talking to the huge bearded man who was Justine’s father. Justine’s brother took her to her room and then took over the job of serving beer. Emily did not really think she wanted another glass but began to drink it anyway, for it soothed the intense embarrassment she felt. It was several moments before Cloud returned to the table, still grinning from his exchange with
Justine’s father.

“We’ve got two rooms. You’re welcome to share with Thornton, James.”

Emily felt color flood her face and tried to hide it by taking a drink. She did not doubt that James had already assumed that she shared Cloud’s bed. It was, however, a little disconcerting to hear it referred to so casually.

“Think I’ll take you up on that. In fact, I was hoping to join you on your journey.”

“Planning on settling in the valley?”

“Maybe. Whether I find something there or not, I’d like to see the place I’ve heard you lauding for years.”

“I’d welcome your company—and your gun. We’re starting out early in the morning. Got to keep pushing or we’ll have to race the coming of the snows.”

“Fine with me.” He looked at Thornton. “Mind if I share your bed?”

“Nope. I like company and he stoled Mama.”

When Emily groaned softly, both men stifled a laugh. She hurriedly excused herself and Thornton, saying the boy needed to put to to bed. Following Cloud’s instructions, she found her way to the two rooms where their bags had already been stowed.

“Are you gonna sleep with dat udder man, too?” asked Thornton.

“Certainly not,” gasped Emily as she hastily tucked the boy into his bed.

“It’ll be real good having anudder man.”

“Yes. Yes, it will. Mr. Ryder is quite capable, but it never hurts to have added protection.”

She sat down on the bed and told him the bedtime story that had become a ritual, but tonight grew a little silly as a result of the beer she’d drunk. Emily was afraid that all the giggling they indulged in would keep him awake, but Thornton was asleep before she had finished folding his clothes.

Looking down at the sleeping boy, she briefly contemplated staying with him. Then she sighed and started toward the room allotted to her and Cloud. He would simply pick her up and tote her to his bed. It was a form of resistance that was not worth the effort. The man did not seem to understand what he was doing to her sense of morals, nor did he seem to be interested in her quandary.

Undressing proved more difficult than usual. She alternated between giggling over and cursing at her sudden incompetence. The last of her clothing had just dropped to the floor when she heard footsteps; she leapt into bed, pulling the covers up to her neck just as Cloud entered the room.

“Just what I like—the woman all ready and waiting,” he drawled as he latched the door.

“Do you never knock when you enter a bedroom?” she grumbled.

“Not too often. Especially not when it’s my bedroom,” he said cheerfully as he began to
undress.

Try as she would, she could not take her gaze from his body as he undressed and washed. He really was a glorious example of manhood. Her gaze moved with ill-hidden appreciation from his broad shoulders over his slim hips and on down his long, muscled legs. She suddenly sensed his gaze on her and hers flew up to meet his, finding his brown eyes decidedly warm.

“Like what you see?” He slipped into bed and reached for her.

“Yes,” she blurted out and blushed furiously, knowing she had had too much to drink.

He immediately guessed that she was somewhat tipsy and grinned even while he felt unusually flattered. The drink had released her inhibitions even though there was still enough of the old Emily there to be startled by her own words. He knew she meant what she said even if she had not really wanted to say it. The idea of Emily liking how he looked pleased him far more than he thought it ought to. When she started to move her hand over his chest, he stopped thinking about it. Plainly, more than her control of her tongue had been affected. Cloud turned his thoughts to finding out just how little reserve she had left.

“You really are an extraordinarily handsome man,” she murmured, then groaned when she realized what she had said.

Cloud smiled into her hair. “What about my scar?”

“It makes you look like a real devil. How did you get it? A woman, I should imagine.”

“Well, there was a woman involved.” His voice grew increasingly hoarse as she moved her hands over his body slowly and shyly, almost exploringly. “She was married, but even at nineteen I wasn’t one to turn my back on something freely offered. Her husband caught us.”

“That poor man,” she whispered as she slid her hands over his smooth slim hips. “You fought?”

“Yes,” he croaked as her touch reached his thighs. “Right there in his bedroom.”

Emily was fascinated by the changes, however subtle, that his growing passion made on his face. His strange eyes burned into hers, the amber ring seeming to grow brighter. She knew the drink was prompting her feeling of sensual abandon, but she could not seem to gain control of herself.

“You did not kill him, did you?” she breathed as she brought her stroking hands to the juncture of his thighs.

“No,” he ground out. “He cut me and the woman’s screams brought the servants. In the confusion, I grabbed my clothes and ran. God, that feels good, honey. Such a sweet touch.”

“I’m feeling very wanton,” she said with an odd mix of shame and delight. “Is it the
drink?”

“If it is, I’m taking a keg along with us,” he growled against her throat.

A tap at the door interrupted his progress toward her breasts. Emily flopped onto her back with a disappointed sigh. Cloud sat up, but his gaze remained fixed on her. He was fascinated with an Emily whose sensuality was in full control of her lithe body.

“Who is it?” he called crossly, shivering when Emily ran her hand over his lower back.

“Justine,” hissed a voice in reply. “Why have you locked the door? You’ve never done that before.”

“I wanted privacy,” he gasped, burying his hand in Emily’s hair when she began to trail kisses over his hip and thigh and urging her towards a spot that ached for her kisses.

“She’s in there, isn’t she?” Justine snapped, striking her fist against the thin door.

“God,” he groaned when Emily obeyed his urgings. “She certainly is. Go away, damn it.”

“You’re a real bastard, Cloud Ryder,” Justine shrilled before stomping off down the hall.

Cloud fell back onto the bed and Emily looked down at him. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“I’ve never been known for my diplomacy. Damn, but you’re beautiful. Come here,” he growled as he yanked her into his arms. “I knew this was what you could be, honey. You don’t need the drink to bring it out.” He
rolled so that she was beneath him. “If only you’d stop being such a little puritan.”

“It’s my heritage,” she breathed, arching to the touch of his eager hands. “Oh, Cloud, please. Please.”

He did not need to be asked so eloquently; he was more than ready to take possession of her. Stirred beyond anything he could recall, his lovemaking was fierce, but Emily met it with a ferocity of her own. Their cries of release blended in the dimly lit room. They held onto each other tightly while they drifted back to earth and their sated bodies stopped trembling.

Although he eased the intimacy of their embrace, Cloud stayed sprawled on top of her, his head pillowed on her breasts. “Ah, little Emily, if only you’d let go more often. It’s so damn good.”

“Yes, it is, isn’t it,” she murmured, too close to sleep to care about the voice in her head that groaned in disgust over her unthinking admission.

“
I
haven’t got any women here.”

Glancing around the fort as they rode in, Emily saw a ripe brunette hurrying their way. “Are you sure?”

“Cloud, darling!”

Emily felt the now common pang of jealousy when the woman hurled herself into Cloud’s arms the moment he dismounted. She smiled faintly at James, who rolled his eyes in an expression of exasperation as he helped her dismount. What helped dispel her growing jealousy and dismal mood was the alacrity with which Cloud extricated himself from the woman’s hold, even hurriedly taking Thornton from the saddle and holding the child in his arms like a shield.

“Is that yours?” the woman nearly screeched, pointing at Thornton.

It took but one instant’s thought for Emily to decide that she did not like the woman. To refer to sweet little Thornton as a ‘that’ was more than she could tolerate. Only her distaste for putting herself in the middle of Cloud and another one of his women halted her.

“This is Thornton, Pamela,” Cloud said coolly. “What are you doing here?”

“My father was given a new post.” Pamela continued to eye Thornton with distaste. “I was afraid you would never get the word about where I was, but here you are.”

“Pure miserable mischance.”

“He can be a little unkind,” Emily murmured to James.

“Very unkind. Shall we see to the horses?”

Nodding, Emily helped James tend to the horses and mule. They were done and wondering what to do next before Cloud was able to extract himself from an increasingly angry Pamela. It was clear from the expression on his face that she had left him in a sour mood. Emily hoped it would not last long.

To her relief Cloud’s mood improved quickly as he talked to a disreputable-looking man called Jack. Although she politely thanked the man for his generosity when he lent them his cabin, Emily wondered if it was going to look as seedy as he did. She found herself pleasantly surprised when they entered the small two-room cabin, for it was
shining clean and homey, something she credited Jack’s Indian wife with.

“Are you certain we are not inconveniencing that man and his wife too much?” Emily set her bag on the huge bed.

“Very certain. They were just headed out to visit her kin.”

“Visit the Indians? They won’t kill him, will they? I mean, they must know that he scouts for the Army.”

“No, they won’t kill him.” He kissed her cheek and started out of the room. “Her tribe is peaceful. Has to be. Near to two-thirds of them died of smallpox two years back. I’m just going to see the major. Won’t be long. Come on, James.”

“Knock before you come back in,” she called after them. “I intend to make use of that tub I saw.”

Looking back into the room, Cloud drawled, “You may need some help scrubbing your back.”

“Somehow I doubt that. The major awaits you.”

“I’ll take Thornton.”

“Thank you.”

When she finally slipped into the tub of hot water, she nearly groaned with pleasure. It seemed years since she had been able to enjoy a hot bath. She soaked idly for just a little while, then began to get on with the business of bathing, for she did not fully trust Cloud to respect her privacy or cater to her modesty.

Just as she stepped out of the tub and started to dry herself off there came a single sharp rap at the door. She gave a squeak of surprise and, clutching her towel, raced for the bedroom when the door opened. Cloud relentlessly strode after her. When she turned to scold him for his total lack of consideration for her sense of modesty, the words never left her lips. She thought the look on his face a very disturbing one. There was an intensity about him that sent a shiver through her.

“Emily.” She looked so clean, so alive, he ached for her.

“Is something wrong, Cloud?” His voice was hoarse and thick, yet she sensed it was not wholly passion that made it so.

“Wrong?” He laughed and did not need her wide-eyed look to know the sound was unpleasant. “Yeh, you could say that.”

“Cloud?”

“Sssh, Em. Please. No words. Not now. Not yet.”

Before she could again ask him what was wrong, however, he grabbed her, tossed her onto the bed and began making fierce, silent love to her. When Emily’s mind was finally cleared of passion’s grip and she still held his heavily breathing body close, she found herself torn between confusion and hurt. As always, the pleasure had been sweet and all-consuming and the guilt she could never fully shake tickled at her. This time, however, she felt badly used. Not only had he
said nothing, but she had the strong feeling that every caress had been calculated to stir her quickly so that he could have his pleasure quickly. Never before had he left her feeling so much a part of a bargain—as she was—and nothing more.