For Honor’s Sake (24 page)

“Oh, God, Rod! What are you doing to me?” Julie cried out as if in agony.

“Tonight I want to pull the soul from your body,” he whispered hoarsely.

Rod’s gentle hands moved downward to caress her breasts, once more using the wine to massage and heat her flesh. The fluid proved extraordinarily erotic as it dried, leaving a residue that seemed to erode her senses. Her eyes had a liquid radiance, her passion-swollen mouth shone wetly with ruby stains. Her body pushed coaxingly into the warmth of his naked thighs and stomach.

“Not yet,
querida,
” Rod said, breathing heavily. “But soon … soon.”

In a restless delirium of pleasure, Julie felt Rod begin a slow tantalizing descent along her stomach below her navel to her taut inner thigh, moving in slow lazy circles along the creamy skin. Then, Julie gasped as he dipped his fingertips in the wine, slipping them into her, the fluid lubricating her until his gentle manipulation nearly brought her to rapture. Against Julie’s murmured protests, he quickly removed them before her tumultuous explosion.

Julie’s intense arousal sparking his own, Rod kissed and caressed every part of her. She stiffened in pleasure when he opened her gently, parting the blond curls, and that hot, invading tongue began to explore her thoroughly, until not a trace of wine remained. A gasp of pure ecstasy broke from her lips as he kneaded her breasts with his hands, his tongue creating havoc with her again and again as he sipped at the wine tinged
sweetness between her thighs. Julie wanted him to stop but knew she would die if he did.

It was as if every nerve ending was centered in her loins as Julie writhed and twisted, her body shaking. Suddenly a sensation halfway between pain and ecstasy seemed to focus beneath Rod’s relentless tongue, and Julie found herself pushing up mindlessly against his warm mouth. It was incredible, like nothing she’d ever felt before, as waves of sweet, throbbing, intense pleasure radiated from her loins thoughout her body, and she sobbed convulsively, finally going limp.

Coming back to earth slowly, Julie’s eyes widened at the proof of Rod’s desire which had yet to be sated. His magnificent maleness reared from the dark forest of his loins like a shaft of delicately veined marble. He whispered her name with a huskiness born of desire as he moved upward and pierced her cleanly and smoothly. Julie gasped and Rod laughed softly, withdrawing his shaft only to plunge more deeply. He wanted to explode within her but grimly hung on, digging into the soft flesh of her buttocks to relieve the pressure.

Amazingly, after the fierce climax she had experienced only moments before, Julie felt herself responding to Rod’s piston-like thrusts, bringing her once more to hot spasms of delight. Rod felt her response, gloried in it, was overpowered by it, and could no longer control the explosion that threatened to tear him apart.

“Come with me,
mi amor,
” he urged hoarsely into her ear, his hands cupping her into his driving body. And then his splendid violence drove them both over the brink and their ecstasy became white-hot, searing, a blaze that was too bright to look into. When he softened and slipped from her, she sighed in the drowsy aftermath of pleasurable exhaustion and was soon asleep.

When Julie awoke the next morning, Rod was gone. And to her utter confusion she did not see him again for
over a month. She had no idea that he left to begin a methodic search for her father, ranging north to the gold fields near the American River and as far south as the Santa Lucia Mountains where he spent weeks roaming those lofty crests in search of Julie’s elusive parent. Had he bothered to visit his own
rancho
he would have been amazed to find Carl Darcy now fully recovered and anxiously awaiting Rod’s return, hopefully with his daughter in tow.

In the meantime, Julie did her best to conceal her bruised feelings from Brett. On the surface she appeared the same; friendly, bright, outwardly happy. But underneath Brett sensed a change in his lovely employee. Strangely, it seemed to coincide exactly with the disappearance of the Spanish don who had been a steady customer for weeks and then suddenly dropped from sight. He was almost persuaded to ask Julie point-blank what there was between her and Don Rodrigo but wisely kept his own counsel, berating himself for acting the jealous fool. To his knowledge, Julie had neither spoken nor acknowledged the handsome Spaniard in all the time he had spent at the Pleasure Palace.

As for Julie, she was certain she would never see Rod again and was assailed by remorse over his sudden disappearance after all they had shared. It hurt her deeply to think that it had meant so little to Rod that he hadn’t even bothered to bid her goodbye. At least she was left with one memorable night, a night she could hold and cherish forever.

Julie had no inkling why Rod had chosen to leave before she awakened. He feared that after their night of indescrible ecstasy he would lose control and insist on taking her immediately to
Rancho
Delgado and away from Brett Casey. He was astute enough to realize that by so doing he would likely cause more dissension between them and further erode the thin line between love and hate that bound them together. His one chance
at winning her affection from Casey, Rod concluded, was to locate her father and bring him back to San Francisco. He hoped then that Julie would return home with him. Above all, Rod wanted his loving wife back, content to remain by his side forever. He had no desire or inclination to harbor an unwilling captive in his
hacienda.

19

One morning during Rod’s long absence, Julie was having breakfast with Brett in the nearly deserted saloon when she noticed a lone woman pause in the doorway, then enter. She could not make out the woman’s features because the sun was behind her, obscuring her face, but Julie noted absently she was poorly dressed and that a cloud of inky black hair floated about her thin shoulders.

The woman walked resolutely to the bar, spoke briefly with Zach who immediately pointed out Brett. As the woman drew near Julie saw that she was younger than she had first supposed, no more than a girl, really.

“Mr. Casey?” the girl said in a tremulous voice. Brett nodded curtly, annoyed by the unwelcome intrusion. “I’ve come to ask for a job.”

Brett raked the bedraggled waif up and down distastefully for a few moments before he answered, “I’m sorry, I have nothing for you.” Then he turned back to Julie, dismissing the woman as someone beneath his notice.

Julie gasped, absolutely astounded. At first she failed to recognize the poor wretch who not only appeared underfed, but sick. And then the girl spoke and Julie became absolutely certain that she knew the girl despite the fact that her face was swollen from some sort of injury.

“Polly?” Julie asked, her voice aquiver with
emotion. “It is Polly, isn’t it? Don’t you remember me?”

The girl turned her head slowly and stared dumbly at Julie. At that instant Julie became certain that the girl was her friend Polly. There was no mistaking those huge green eyes. But where was her husband and how did she come to such a pass? “My God, Polly, what happened to you?” Julie finally asked, appalled by her friend’s pitiful appearance.

Polly stared vacantly at Julie before a glimmer of recognition lit a spark in her eyes. “Julie? Oh, Julie, is it really you?” Then she collapsed sobbing into Julie’s welcoming arms.

“You know this … woman?” grimaced Brett, obviously mistaking Polly for a common streetwalker.

“Polly is my friend,” Julie snapped, angered by Brett’s callous dismissal of Polly’s desperate plight. “We traveled on the same ship to California. She married and went off with her husband. I … I don’t know what could have happened to the poor dear.”

Upon learning that Polly was not what he originally assumed, Brett became immediately solicitous, insisting that she sit down. Then he ordered breakfast for the near-starving girl. His efforts were rewarded by a grateful glance from Julie.

Once Polly had eaten every bit of the delicious food set before her, Julie began probing gently for some answers to Polly’s predicament. “We need to talk, dear,” she said, taking Polly’s thin, work-worn hand in her own smooth one. “Where is your husband, Polly? Why has he deserted you?”

Polly turned huge, tragic eyes on her friend, causing Julie’s heart to contract painfully. “He is dead, Julie. Conner is dead.” She began to sob softly.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

Polly hiccupped, then nodded. “Conner discovered a small but rich vein of gold a while back,” Polly began,
choking back her tears. “We … we kept it a secret because we feared someone might steal the small hoard of gold we had accumulated and kill us before we were able to file our claim. When we had several sacks of nuggets hidden away, Conner decided it was time to take it to the assay office and file his claim.”

Polly paused for breath, her eyes bright with pain. “The night before Conner was to leave for San Francisco four men burst into our cabin just as we were taking the gold from its hiding place.”

“Oh no!” cried Julie, appalled.

“They were miners who worked the claim next to ours. Somehow they became suspicious and decided to find out for themselves if Conner really had found gold. They gave him no chance to defend himself once they spied it. They killed him, Julie. Then they divided the gold and … and … oh God, I can’t go on!”

“It’s all right, Polly,” Julie soothed. “You don’t have to say anymore. I understand.”

“Do you, Julie? Do you know what it’s like seeing your husband killed before your eyes? I … I was held prisoner by those four depraved monsters who took turns on me for weeks. Do you know what it’s like being beaten into submission for failing to comply with their vile requests?”

“I’m so sorry, Polly,” Julie murmured sympathetically. “It must have been horrible for you. How did you escape? Or did they let you go?”

“Let me go! Ha! If it was up to them, three of them at least, I’d still be tied to the bed praying for death. One of the men, younger than the others, began feeling sorry for me. I used his pity, as well as his lust for gold, to my own advantage. Not only did I appear to welcome him whenver he approached me in that manner, but I offered him a sack of gold for his own if he helped me to escape.”

“You had a sack of gold?” This came from Brett who
had thus far remained silent.

“There was still one sackful hidden beneath a loose floorboard when they broke into our cabin. I offered it to Hank, that was his name, if he helped me reach San Francisco.”

“Thank God he agreed,” breathed Julie gratefully, “and that you found your way to the Pleasure Palace. You can stay here, share my room.” Then she looked imploringly at Brett. “When Polly is well you’ll give her a job, won’t you, Brett?”

Brett looked doubtfully at Polly but compassion moved him to nod his head. Magnanimously, he offered, “There is no reason for Polly to share your room. There are any number of empty rooms above stairs. I’ll leave it to you to settle her in one of them. Once she is recovered we will talk further about employment.”

“Thank you.” Polly murmured gratefully, somewhat intimidated by the handsome gambler’s imposing looks and stature.

“You have my thanks, too, Brett,” Julie said warmly. “You are the best friend a girl could ever want.”

Brett grimaced. “I could be more, Brandy, much more.” Before she could answer, he rose gracefully, excused himself, and left.

Polly stared after Brett thoughtfully, then at Julie. “What is he to you, Julie? Why does he call you Brandy? And … and where is your husband?”

“Not here, Polly,” cautioned Julie, peering around to see if anyone had heard. “Let’s go upstairs and then I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

Later, with Polly’s frail form stretched out on the bed, Julie recounted all that had happened to her during the past year. Whenever she spoke Rod’s name, Polly could not help but notice the wistful longing in her voice. She thought there was much about that relationship
Julie was not telling.

“Do you love him, Julie?” Polly asked hesitantly.

Julie flushed, lowering her expressive blue eyes lest they give her away. “I … yes … I guess I do, for all the good it does me.”

“Rod wouldn’t have come to San Francisco for you if he held no strong feelings for you,” insisted Polly.

“You’re wrong, Polly. I’m the only woman who can give him a legitimate heir. That’s all he wants from me.”

“He married you, didn’t he?”

“Only because his damn honor demanded it!” Suddenly aware of Polly’s pinched face and total exhaustion, she added, “We’ll talk about it later, dear. Rest now. The only thing I would ask of you is to keep my marriage a secret. Should Brett find out I’m married, he might insist I return to
Rancho
Delgado with Rod.”

“It’s obvious Brett is obsessed with you. Have you … are you two …”

Julie smiled. “No, Polly. If you’re asking if Brett and I are lovers, the answer is no. We never have been, nor will we ever be lovers. Brett is a friend. A very dear friend.”

It was good to have Polly around, Julie decided, as daily the girl became more like the effervescent, enthusiastic girl of old. The swelling about her face disappeared as did the bruises and welts on her body. Julie saw to it that her friend rested and ate well until Polly’s slight figure began to fill out to its former curvacous proportions. When Julie deemed Polly completely recovered, she had a dress altered to fit and prepared to present her to Brett who hadn’t seen her since that day she walked into the Pleasure Palace some days past.

Brett refused to believe that the lovely, raven-haired beauty dressed in shimmering gold satin was the same
abused and bedraggled woman who had come to him seeking a job. Now that the swelling had receded, Brett was astounded by the girl’s beauty, greatly admiring the cloud of ebony curls framing a pixie-like face, and emerald green eyes studying him most intently through a veil of dark, feathery lashes. Without a moment’s hesitation, Brett heard himself offering Polly a job, which she accepted with alacrity and a burst of girlish enthusiasm that thoroughly charmed him.

One day Julie heard a bit of news that completely unsettled her. If reports could be believed, a posse of Americans fought a pitched battle just outside San Luis Obispo somewhere in the Santa Lucia Mountains with Joaquin Murieta and his audacious bandits. Though many of the notorious brigands were killed or captured, it seemed that Murieta escaped into his mysterious mountain hideout. The noose was tightening about Joaquin’s neck and Julie feared for his life.

Rod returned unexpectedly to San Francisco after weeks of fruitless searching for Carl Darcy. From a distance, Julie was shocked by his appearance. He was pounds thinner than when she last saw him nearly two months ago, and exhausted, his dark eyes sunk deeply into their sockets. She wondered where he had been and why he had bothered to return at all, until she felt his smoldering gaze sweep over her with a heat born of intense desire. Oddly, his desire for her kindled her own and the look she returned pleased Rod beyond measure.

Just as he decided to go to her and forget all the animosity and pretense between them, a commotion broke out near the front of the saloon. All eyes turned toward a man in an army uniform boasting the rank of captain. He held before him a large jar containing something undefinable. Even from where he stood Rod could hear the shouting and laughter. Almost immediately a crowd gathered around the man and his
grisly burden. Rod decided to investigate.

He paused at the outer ring of the crowd to listen to the captain who was holding the jar aloft and speaking to all those assembled.

“Came upon him unexpected like,” the captain was saying. “Our patrol cut them off before they could escape to that secret hideout of theirs in the mountains. Killed them all, every damn one of them.”

“Murieta, too?” clamored a voice from the crowd.

“I killed Murieta myself,” boasted the captain. “I knew no one would believe me so I brought proof.”

Rod’s stunned gaze flew to the jar the captain now raised proudly above his head for all to see. It was a sight Rod would never forget as long as he lived. Inside the jar, floating grotesquely in some kind of liquid, reposed the head of the bandit Joaquin Murieta. Appropriate praise and congratulations surrounded Rod but he felt only revulsion. That his one-time friend should be displayed in such a disgusting manner was reprehensible to him. He turned away from the grisly sight and nearly collided with Julie who had just recently joined the crowd to satisfy her own curiosity.

Julie had never seen such excitement, and being the inquisitive person that she was, left the blackjack table to learn for herself the cause for all the commotion. What she saw gave her nightmares for months to come. The fist that flew to her mouth did little to suppress the scream that ripped from her throat. Then she promptly fainted at Rod’s feet.

Because Rod was closer, he picked up Julie’s limp body and started off toward the stairs. Almost immediately he was joined by Brett Casey and Polly. Though he acknowledged Polly’s presence with a nod, he barely registered his surprise that he should find Polly in Casey’s Pleasure Palace.

“I’ll take her, Delgado,” Brett insisted, reaching for Julie. “I know were her room is located.” A silent look passed between Polly and Rod that told him Julie had
confided in her friend. But rather than cause a ruckus at a time when it might be detrimental to Julie’s health, Rod relucantly relinquished his precious burden into Brett’s waiting arms.

Nothing would prevent him from following Brett and Polly to Julie’s room, Rod decided belligerently, ready to fight anyone for that right. If anything was wrong with his wife he wanted to know, despite the proprietory air of her lover, Brett Casey. Once Julie was placed on the bed, Polly shooed them all out of the room. Both men left, albeit not without first voicing loud protests.

Fifteen minutes later Polly reappeared, a worried frown puckering her pert features. She addressed Brett. “I think you should summon a doctor, I can’t seem to rouse her.” Brett whirled on his heel and left immediately, taking the steps two at a time.

Rod started into Julie’s room. “Where are you going?” Polly asked, blocking his entry.

“She’s my wife,” Rod insisted stubbornly. “I have a right to be with her.” Rod’s words brought a secret smile to Polly’s lips and she moved aside.

When Brett returned some fifteen minute later with the rotund doctor huffing from his efforts to keep up with a worried Brett, he was shocked and angered to find Rod sitting beside Julie, pressing her limp hand to his mouth. Before he had time to protest the rather shocking occurence, the doctor, Ignacio Vega by name, brusquely requested that they all leave him to his patient.

The minute the door closed behind them Brett angrily turned to Rod, his eyes blazing dangerously. “What’s the meaning of this, Delgado? What is Brandy to you?”

“The question is what is she to you,
mi amigo
?” Rod returned testily.

“Brandy is the woman I love. I hope to make her my wife,” Brett replied hotly.

Rod laughed softly, a dangerous sound that made Brett’s hackles rise. “Has she agreed to become your wife?”

“No, but—”

“Then I wouldn’t count on it, Casey,” Rod drawled, impaling him with his hard stare.

“Look here, Delgado, just what is your interest in Brandy? Why are you evading my question?”

By now their voices had become so loud that Polly sought to interfere before fisticuffs broke out. “Stop! Both of you!” she intervened. “Think of Julie. What if she should hear you arguing like this?”

“We’ll continue this later, Casey,” Rod growled. “I think there are certain things you should know.”