Midnight Flame (44 page)

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Authors: Lynette Vinet

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Midnight Flame
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“You slept in Duvalier’s room last night?”

“Yes.”

“In his bed?”

“Where did you think I’d sleep? On the floor?”

“Did he make love to you?”

The memory of last night washed over her. She hated to remember what Tony had done to her, how she had responded, but she couldn’t stop the rising heat that flooded her face, and this was all the answer that Seth needed.

“Filthy bastard.”

“Seth, we have to settle something,” Laurel told him gently, having come to an immediate decision. “I’m Tony’s wife and can’t marry you.”

“You’re going to divorce the varmint,” Seth persisted.

“No. Tony and I are man and wife. There’s no hope of my falling in love with you and marrying you. I’m sorry.” Taking off the ring Seth had given to her, she handed it to him. She hadn’t forgiven Tony for Simone and didn’t know if she could accept his hostility toward Lavinia, but one thing she did know was that she couldn’t love any man but Tony, the contemptible bastard.

Seth gazed at the ring and buried it in his fist. “You’re the one who’ll be sorry, Laurel. I guarantee that you will.”

He stalked off, leaving her somewhat unnerved by the hatred she saw in his eyes. She knew she had done the right thing. Seth just had to realize that.

Entering the barn, one of the hands helped her saddle her horse, and she rode to the open range in search of Tony, intent on giving him a piece of her mind.

~ ~ ~

“Rustlers,” Jim Castille informed Tony. He leaned forward in his saddle, an arm placed protectively on his gunbelt out of habit rather than necessity. “I didn’t want to tell Miss Laurel that we’ve lost a few head here and there. I don’t think that is a woman’s concern.”

Tony’s dark gaze surveyed the pastoral landscape where the cattle were grazing in contentment. His stallion pawed the earth, eager to be off, but Tony gentled him with a steady hand. “How long has this been going on?”

“Hard to say, but I think a little under a month. Not enough head disappeared to notice at first, but since last month the count is down by two hundred. I doubt if that many just wandered off. I’d say they were led away.”

“Have you posted lookouts?”

“I did a week ago. Five men are posted on the south forty and five on the north forty. Others scout the rest of the range. I mentioned the problem to Seth Renquist, but he didn’t seem too worried about it. He’s been taking care of the north forty. Funny thing about it all, though. Most of the cattle that disappeared were from that section.”

Tony shot Jim a knowing look, aware of Jim’s assumption. He wouldn’t put it past Seth to steal cattle from the Little L. He had learned from Simone that Seth had had a hand in causing Laurel to think that the child Simone carried had been his. He wouldn’t forget such duplicity. Tony cleared his throat.

“We’ll just have to keep our eyes and ears open from now on.”

The sound of thundering hoofs drew their attention as Laurel rode into view. Her long hair was unbound and whipped around her face and shoulders like black velvet. She reined in her horse, breathing hard, unaware that the top button of her blouse was undone, exposing part of her heaving bosom.

“What are you doing out here?” Tony practically growled at her, feeling a stirring in his loins and frustrated by last night.

Laurel rose up in the saddle, staring him down. “I’m in charge of the Little L. I don’t intend to sleep late and eat breakfast in bed because you deem I should. You’re not going to bully me, Tony Duvalier, no matter what we agreed last night.” She turned her flashing emerald gaze on Jim. “And you, you traitor. I thought we were friends and you respected my authority, but the moment a man appears, you change sides.

“Hold on now, Miss Laurel—”

Tony broke in. “I asked Jim to show me the spread. He wanted me to bring you along because he knew you’d fill me in on things, but I told him you were sleeping. I’m sorry, I won’t overstep my bounds again. You’ve taken pretty good care of the Little L. I’m proud of you, Laurel.”

Tony’s quick flash of a smile took her aback. Tony Duvalier had actually apologized to her and commended her on the ranch. She could barely believe it. She didn’t dare think that he was finally coming to see her as a capable female rather than a bed partner.

They rode on, saying nothing. At noon, the three of them watered their horses by a clear stream. When Jim was out of earshot, Tony sat beside Laurel, who was resting in a patch of goldenrod. For a brief instant, his hand touched hers, and then he began to fiddle with the brim on his hat.

“I meant what I said about being proud of you. You’ve accomplished a great deal on this ranch. Jim told me about the improvements you’ve made, the way you’ve taken an interest in the stock. You’ve come a long way from the girl I married.” His black eyes were soft and filled with respect when he looked at her. “I didn’t make a mistake in coming here. I know that now.”

A lump formed in her throat at this admission, which she realized must be quite hard for Tony to say. He was the kind of man who expected his woman to be in one place, a place where he could find her, not running a ranch. On Petit Coteau she had never bothered with anything but the house and hadn’t wanted any more responsibility because she knew Tony would handle things much better than she ever could. But here, she was her own person for the first time in her life. No one saw her as the Delaney daughter, or Tony’s wife, or the orphaned cousin. She was simply Laurel, simply herself.

“Thank you, Tony. That means a great deal to me coming from you.”

Tony plucked a goldenrod and handed it to her.

“Truce?” he said.

Laurel took it from him, her fingers touching his, but she didn’t pull away.

“Truce.”

~ ~ ~

Near sundown, Laurel, tired and dusty, with Tony and Jim beside her, rode into the yard. She had barely slipped from the saddle when Lavinia appeared, resembling a wild violet in a purple gown, edged with green lace on the scooped neckline and elbow-length sleeves. Her auburn hair was piled atop her hair in tiny curls. She sashayed toward them and clutched Tony by the sleeve when he dismounted.

“Rosita has supper ready. I was wondering when you were coming back. I’ve been alone all day,” she said, pouting, and clung tighter to Tony.

“You could have joined us on the range.” Laurel moved briskly away, a feeling of jealousy eating away at her. Lavinia looked so beautiful while, once again, her own appearance left much to be desired. And what made matters worse was that Tony smiled familiarly at Lavinia and didn’t remove her grasping hand from his arm.

“I didn’t feel like it today. I took a long, warm bath in some wonderful violet bath salts from Paris. Do I smell sweet to you, Tony?” Lavinia leaned in closer to him, enabling him to catch a whiff of her scent.

“You smell divine enough to drive a man mad.”

Lavinia giggled. Her gaze slid to Jim, who was watching from his horse, seemingly nonplussed by the encounter taking place below him.

Jim called to Laurel. “I’ll see you in the morning, Miss Laurel.”

“Would you like to stay for supper with us?” Laurel invited him.

“No, ma’am. I think I might be sick from all these fancy smells mingling in the air.” He rode toward the bunkhouse, not missing the nasty scowl Lavinia threw his way.

“Where’s Seth? I haven’t see him all day,” Tony asked Lavinia.

“He took off this morning for San Antonio. He said he didn’t know when he’d be home. Seems that the sleeping arrangements weren’t to his liking.” Lavinia’s voice dripped venom. “Some people around here can’t seem to make up their minds about which bed they fancy to sleep in.”

Laurel felt herself coloring and marched into the house before she said something just as ugly to Lavinia. When she reached her and Tony’s room, she discovered that all her clothes had been hung neatly in the large wardrobe and that her toilet articles were lined up in orderly fashion on the bureau. The bathtub already stood waiting in the center of the room, filled with warm water, and Gincie had laid out one of her best gowns on the bed.

The dress, a light-rose-and-white-striped silk with a revealing décolletage and a rose pinned to the front, was much too fussy for a simple evening meal. At first Laurel was going to exchange it for a plainer looking gown. She wondered why Gincie had not laid out one of her calico gowns, but she remembered one of their earlier conversations about her clothes. Lately Lavinia’s vibrant beauty was much too noticeable, and Laurel had begun to feel homely in comparison. Now that Tony seemed unable to tear his eyes from Lavinia and with Lavinia hanging onto him like a leech, she felt downright dowdy. Laurel took one last lingering look at the gown and began to undress. It was about time that Lavinia got a dose of her own medicine.

After a bath scented with rose water, Laurel fastened her long hair away from her face with ivory combs. Her dark tresses hung simply down her back and curled wispily at her waist. When she was dressed she waited on the open balcony, watching the scene below her in the parlor, until Tony felt her gaze upon him and glanced up.

“King me!” Lavinia cried out in delight as she made a move on the checkerboard. Her delight quickly faded when she realized that Tony was oblivious of her and the game. His eyes were on Laurel.

Laurel moved slowly down the stairs. The light from the oil lamps on tables on both sides of the sofa cast a soft peach glow across her bare shoulders and the swelling curves of her breasts. Her eyes were a vivid shade of green and hadn’t yet left Tony’s face as she took a seat in a chair across from him. A small smile played about her lips.

“Who’s winning?” she asked, not really interested in the game but in the man whose face was taut with desire.

“I am!” Lavinia chimed in. “I always win!”

“Do you really? How nice, Lavinia.” Laurel sounded unconcerned, almost patronizing. Lavinia seethed, seeing that Tony had lost all interest in the game. “Tony, I have a king,” she said through clenched teeth.

“What? Oh, sorry.” Tony topped Lavinia’s checker with his own. “Game’s over. I lose.”

The room was charged with an electric current that ran directly from Tony to Laurel. They gazed into each other’s eyes, unaware of Lavinia who fidgeted in her chair, then threw the checkerboard and checkers into a wooden case, practically spilling the round pieces on the floor.

Laurel felt her body come alive and glow. She hated to admit to herself that she was anticipating the moment she and Tony would go upstairs. Just thinking about tonight in their bed set her heart to racing. Tony wanted her. His eyes held a dark passion that she had come to know well. His lips enticed her to touch them, and she believed she would have, no matter that Lavinia glared at her from across the room, but the sound of booted feet striding through the front door prevented her.

Jim entered the room, a look of apology on his face. “Didn’t mean to interrupt your evening, folks, but, Tony, there’s a party for Tom Evans at the hands’ bunkhouse. He’s getting married day after tomorrow, and the boys are giving him a celebration. We thought you might like to come.”

“That’s kind of you,” Tony said, removing his eyes from Laurel, “but I might be busy later.”

“Go, Tony,” Laurel urged, coming back to her senses momentarily. “This will be a good chance to meet all the hands.”

“Do you mind? I could be a little late.”

His eyes and voice held a promise in them that Laurel couldn’t refuse. “That’s fine.”

“You’ll wait up for me?”

Laurel nodded. Moments after Tony had left with Jim, Lavinia plopped herself down on the sofa. “You know that the men are going to get so rip-roaring drunk that when Tony does come back, he’ll be quite worthless to you.”

“Goodness, Lavinia! Let it never be said that you have a way of being tactful.”

Lavinia shrugged and leaned her head against the cushions. “I always say what I think because it prevents complications later.”

“Then be honest now, pray, and tell me what mischievous thought those blue eyes are hiding.”

Tilting her head, Lavinia placed a thin finger on her lips. “I’d say it is more like lascivious thoughts, Cousin Laurel, concerning your husband. I don’t know why you’re sleeping in his bed again, seeing that you claimed to hate him so much until he showed up again. Now you can’t take your eyes off him, but don’t think that, because you’re acting the part of his wife, he’s safe from predatory females.”

“Of which you’re one,” Laurel interjected.

“Certainly.”

“Why do you want my husband?”

“That’s obvious. Tony is a handsome and virile man.”

“And quite rich,” Laurel said. “You shouldn’t forget that.”

Lavinia had the grace to flush as that remark sank in. Rising from the sofa, she made a big to-do over arranging some colorful wildflowers in a vase by the window. “You would say that. You’re cruel to even think it.”

“I’m being honest with you, but it’s time you were honest with yourself. Tony holds a large attraction for you because he’s wealthy, and you want to latch onto him as a means of keeping the Little L. But he won’t marry you. He doesn’t love you and you know that. And what’s more, you know you don’t love him.”

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