Love's Revenge (Entangled Scandalous) (10 page)

She wanted him to stop. But she was afraid the dog would fall if she tried to pull away. The slow caress of his thumb made her knees weak. She pressed an urgent kiss into the soft fur of the dog’s head.

She must make him stop.

But not just now.

He continued his soft massage. His other hand touched her cheek. He moved a strand of hair, damp from the dog’s attentions, off her face, tucking it behind her ear.

When he had completed the task, he cradled her cheek and Kate laid her head into his palm, exhausted by fighting this man. Exhausted by fighting her own feelings for him.

She closed her eyes. It was good. Better than good. His thumb brushed her lips, then her cheek to the base of her ear. A pause. Again he caressed her lips and cheek. In the darkened quiet of the back of the store, she pressed a kiss into the palm of his hand.

It was electric.

He cupped her head in both his hands. Every muscle and tendon tightened as his lips brushed hers. She leaned into him. Wanting more...needing more.

He massaged her temples until she opened her eyes. It was a mistake, for his eyes mirrored her own longing and need.

When he kissed her it was with an urgency and a desire that left her breathless. Everything faded away but their passion. She was vaguely aware that he had taken the puppy and placed it back in its pen. She was more aware that she was being pulled into him. However tightly, it was not close enough.

He pressed her back into the side wall and covered her with his body. He kissed her neck and she could smell his hair—his beautiful black hair. She pressed a kiss into it and gasped as his hands moved up her bodice to cup her breasts.

What were they doing? What was happening?
She had to stop him.

“Please,” she begged. “Stephen, please.”

He stopped. He rested his forehead against the wall so close she could feel his heat. His ragged breathing vibrated against the loose curls at the nape of her neck.

She raised a hand and cradled his cheek. He kissed her palm.

“Please, what?” he finally said, his voice raspy with emotion.

She couldn’t answer him with the truth. She couldn’t say,
Please tell me the truth. Please explain what it was that kept you away so long. Please tell me who you are and who I
am to you.

And unable to these things, she said simply, “Please stop.”

In the distance, she heard the storeowner with another customer. Their discussion was quiet, muted, floating in as if from a different world, a different time. But she grasped at it to free herself from the terrifying uncertainties that threatened to paralyze her.

The door to the shop opened and then closed and footsteps headed toward them.

Stephen took a step back and ran a hand through his thick black hair. He turned as the shopkeeper approached.

“Well, have you decided?” The shopkeeper smiled expectantly.

“I think we’d like the puppy. That one.” Stephen pointed to the puppy who had lavished its affection on her. “I think it will make my son very happy. Every boy should have a dog, don’t you agree?”

Every warm emotion drained from her. Why had she let him touch her again? It had made her forget.

She tried to armor herself. The pain of her own traitorous actions seared her mind. She shook her head. “Andy already has a dog...in St. Louis.”

She bolted from the store and up Larimer, tears of shame burning her eyes.

Chapter Eleven

Stephen sat at his desk in his study. The news was not good. Zechariah Morse had left Denver over a week ago for Silverton. He would not be long there before he left for San Francisco and then Europe to investigate a new smelting procedure. Once in Europe, he could avoid any legal action taken against him—could avoid all responsibility for killing Lizzie. This news and the rapidly approaching winter made it urgent that Stephen leave now. But before he left, he had to deal with Katherine.

She had avoided him the last two days. It had been a stupid thing to do, kissing her. But he could still taste her. Still feel her. Her lips against his had been moist and pliant. Her skin beneath his fingers had been like satin.

He had to get away from her before something happened that he would regret.

But before he did, he needed to reinforce his good name.

“Peg?” When there was no answer, he called her again. “Peg?”

Peg came puffing in from the hall. “Now what’s got you by the tail?”

“We’re going to be entertaining on Saturday. I’m inviting Otto Mears for dinner.”

“Well, halleluiah. It’s about time you did something other than thinking yourself into a sulk.” She smiled. “Not to worry then, I’ll see everything is just the way we used to do it when dear Lizzie...” Her voice tapered off to whisper.

“It’s all right. We can talk about her.”

Peg took a step into the study and pushed the door closed behind her. “Miss Kate’s not at all like her, is she?”

“No, she’s not. She lacks Lizzie’s sweet temperament.” He fiddled with the papers on his desk. Peg wasn’t going to leave him alone on this.

“But there’s something to be said for spunky.”

“Spunky?” Stephen raised a dark eyebrow.

“You know what I mean. But she’s been nervous as a long-tailed cat under a rocking chair these past few days. What did you do to the poor gal?”

“What makes you think it has anything to do with me?” He busied himself with his papers, avoiding Peg’s careful scrutiny.

“Because you’ve been ornerier than sin yourself, that’s why. And don’t bother telling me I’m crazy. We’ve known each other too long.”

“There was a misunderstanding, that’s all.”

“Then it’s time you straightened it out, don’t you think? I’ll not have my house cluttered up with unhappy people.” It was an order. No question about it.

“I’ll see what I can do.” He smiled at the older woman, whom he suspected knew far more than she would admit.

When Peg had left the room, he rested his head in his hands. He would be taking a major risk leaving Kate ignorant of his recent whereabouts until he returned, but it couldn’t be helped. He needed to deal with Zechariah Morse before any more time slipped away.

…

She wore midnight blue. The dress, watered silk, fell softly from her shoulders while its bodice pushed the soft mounds of her pale breasts up for admiration. Blue velvet so dark that it appeared almost black accented the soft drapes of the skirt which lay tight across the front and then pulled back to a small bustle. She had piled her shimmering pale hair high. A spray of satin violets nestled over her left ear nodded softly as she entered the dining room.

“Do you approve?” He spoke to distract himself and motioned to the table setting.

The mahogany table was set with fine bone china and silver serving pieces that shimmered on the polished surface as if in a tranquil pool of water. Kate stepped forward and picked up a delicate Waterford wine glass. She must have recognized it.

“They are the same pattern as your parents’. I got them for her as a wedding gift,” he said as a gesture of reconciliation.

For a moment, Kate didn’t acknowledge him.

“Did you love her?” There was no hidden challenge in her question. She appeared open to his response.

“Yes, more than life itself.”

She said nothing more. He did not know if she believed him or not.

“Tell me about Mr. Mears.”

He laughed, glad to change the subject.

“Old Otto? He is the epitome of a self-made man. His roads carry mining equipment in and the newfound wealth out of the mountains. His knowledge of this area is second to none. He is preparing to build narrow gauge railways on his right-a-ways wherever possible, and where that’s not possible, he will sell his land to the larger railroad companies. I have a great deal of admiration for the man. As you’ll soon find out, the West is full of self-made men. They may be eccentric or uncouth, but they share a belief in the land. And it is the land and the prosperity it can bring to those who claim it that drives both the Indian and the white man to make poor decisions. We and the Indians are not as different as you would think, Katherine.”

The doorbell rang.

“Ah, here he is now.”

…

Kate sat quietly as the two men discussed business throughout the meal. The dinner was marvelous. Raw oysters, baked filet of trout with Madeira Sauce, Roast Quail Larded. Peg managed to present one of the best meals Kate had ever eaten. Now, a steamed English plum pudding with rum sauce sat temptingly before her.

There were many unanswered questions running through her mind as she listened to the men talk. Perhaps this was the perfect opportunity to get some answers.

“Stephen tells me you are an invaluable source of information on the current situation, Mr. Mears. Our train was harassed by a small party of Utes on the way to Denver. I believe one of them was named Piah. He said he was brother to Ouray’s wife. Stephen knew him. And yet I see Ouray’s name raised in connection with the massacre of a Mr. Meeker, an Indian agent I believe, and the capture of the man’s wife and children. The papers think that retaliation is the answer if the heathens can attack at their leisure.”

The two men exchanged a glance before Stephen nodded to the diminutive man at the other end of the table.

“Piah is a hot-head. Was anyone hurt?” Otto asked.

“No,” Kate had to admit.

“Piah knows better than to attack and damage a train. His father was sent to Denver to try to negotiate a peaceful settlement of property rights in western Colorado. I accompanied the man as interpreter. Sadly, the Ute are fighting a losing battle. Ouray would not tolerate an attack now. That is why he is being asked to help in the negotiations with Chief Johnson to free the hostages.”

Stephen nodded his agreement. “If you’ll both excuse me, I need to thank Peg for her efforts tonight and get a bottle of brandy. I’ll only be a moment.”

As he left the room, Otto continued. “I am to meet General Adams in Canon City to try and find a solution. Stephen and I are to leave at the end of the week.”

She abruptly stopped her spoonful of pudding before it reached her mouth. “Stephen is leaving Denver?”

“Hasn’t he told you? He’s going on to Silverton.”

“But why? We’ve only just arrived in Denver.”

“No doubt he has unfinished business with Zechariah Morse.”

“What kind of business has he with this Mr. Morse?” She set down her spoon.

Otto paused thoughtfully before he responded. “That, I think, is a question for Stephen.”

“Here we go. A bottle of my finest.” Stephen’s return prevented any further discussion.

…

“I thought you had gone to bed.” Stephen had spent more than an hour in his study after Otto had left. He was startled to find Kate still in the parlor.

The only light in the room flickered from the remnants of the fire. Peg had extinguished the gaslights long ago.

“No, I was waiting for you.” She stood next to the marble mantle, her face flushed from the heat, her bare shoulders pale and tempting.

He took a single step into the room, then hesitated. It was dangerous to get too close to her.

“I understand you are leaving for Silverton shortly.” She shook her head nervously as if denying the news.

“Yes.”

“I wish to go with you.” It was not a request as much as a demand.

“Don’t be foolish.”

“I am not foolish.” She raised a hand and pressed it to her forehead.

“I didn’t mean...” He had upset her more.

“What is it that Otto will not tell me? Has it to do with Lizzie?” Her voice sounded more determined than ever. “Has it to do with where you were the last two years?” She took a step toward him and then stopped. It was clear that she, too, was aware of the need for distance between them.

It was also apparent that she was in danger of becoming even more angry.

“I will tell you. You must believe that, Katherine.”

“I will believe that when you do tell me. Until then...”

“I need to settle some things first,” he said.

“With Zechariah Morse?” She was clearly ready to pursue this as far as she could.

“Yes, with Morse.”

“Does Morse have something to do with Lizzie’s death?”

When he didn’t answer, anger colored her cheeks bright red.

“If you will not tell me, I will find out myself. I need to see where Lizzie died. If you will not tell me what happened, you cannot stop me from finding out myself.”

“It will only bring back unpleasant memories.”

“For you or for me?” she fired back at him.

“For both of us.” His voice almost cracked with stress.

She rose to her full height. “I can stand the memories. Can you?”

“What I have to do is dangerous. I don’t want you there.”

“Because it’s dangerous for me or for you? Are you afraid I might find out what you’ve been hiding?”

“No, that’s not it. You don’t understand the first thing about it.”

“Then make me understand,” she demanded.

He studied her. Would she understand?
Not yet.
She was still too belligerent, too untrusting, too determined to keep Andy at any cost. He kept his silence.

She took a step away from the fireplace and into the darkness that blanketed the nether regions of the room.

“If I am left here, I will find out one way or the other. And if it is anything I can use to take Andy back to St. Louis, I will do just that. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” He understood perfectly. Even for someone less determined, the chances were good she’d find out in the two weeks that he would be gone.

“If you do not take me, I will not be here when you return. And neither will your son.”

He stepped closer to the fireplace hoping the light would give him an answer. He placed his hand on the mantelpiece and gazed into the ruby red embers of the dying fire, grasping at anything that would keep her in Denver.

“What about Andy? If you come with me, it would mean that you would have to leave him.”

“But I would not be leaving him with
you
.” Still she didn’t trust him. That hurt him more than anything she had ever said.

“I am a fate worse than death, it appears.”

She did not answer. Not immediately. When she spoke it was with studied calm and logic.

“Andy can stay with Fiona and Peg and Dusty. He will be happy here.”

“As long as his father is far away?” He shook his head slowly. Apparently he had made little progress in winning her over.

“You are the one who must answer that,” she said firmly.

“No, Katherine, eventually you must be the one who answers that.” He had to buy time, just a little more time. “Have I done anything, said anything, that would lead you to believe that I don’t love my son?”

“It’s not that simple.” She refused to look at him, preferring to study the pattern of the carpet that undulated in the firelight.

“It’s not that simple.” He laughed and threw his hands up, exasperated. “It’s not that simple.” He took two steps to her and grabbed her by the shoulders. “It
is
that simple, Kate. All of life is that simple. You love someone or you don’t. You trust someone or you don’t.”

“No.”

“No what? No, it’s not that simple? Or no, you do not trust me?”

“No, I don’t trust you,” she blurted out. “At least not completely.”

Stephen weighed the pros and cons. He could leave her in Denver and she would no doubt find out why he had left Andy in her care for two years, or he could take her with him and buy more time, earn her trust so that when he told her the truth, she would believe him.

“But you trust me enough to go with me into the Colorado wilderness.”

“I’m doing it for Andy...for Lizzie.”

“And what about yourself? What do you do for yourself? Fight me for Andy? Andy is happy here. You know it and I know it. You are the one who is afraid. Without Andy, you have no one.”

Stephen ran his hands over her shoulders and up her beautiful neck until he cradled her face in his hands. He kissed her then, surprising even himself. He thought she would fight him. She grabbed his hands, but did not pull them away. He deepened his kiss and she responded in kind, opening herself to him. He could smell her, taste her. He trailed kisses down her neck and back up to her mouth. She was willing, more than willing, eager for his lips on hers. His hold on her tightened. His tongue explored the corners of her mouth and still she did not stop him. Her lack of resistance was tempting him toward the unthinkable. He was losing control.

With great effort, he pulled away from her. Her eyes were heavy with passion and hazy with confusion.

“You can’t love someone if you don’t trust them, Katherine. Remember that.”

He dropped his hands, fighting for mastery of himself. “You can come with me. Be ready at dawn the day after tomorrow. Otto will accompany us as far as Canon City.”

“But you must promise me...” She wanted to set conditions once again.

“No. No more promises.”

“But...”

He cut her off. “Are you coming with me or not?”

“Yes!”

He heard the hurried rustle of her skirts as she rushed to leave the parlor.

He was a fool to take her with him, as much a fool as he had been to take Lizzie.