The Irish Devil (6 page)

“No, thank you. What I have to say should not take long.”

She must want a seat on the next stagecoach out of town, if the conversation must be fast. Buy her that ticket and she’d be gone in a day. Bloody hell.

William ushered her into the small room, bare except for the minimum of furniture, all solid, scarred, and littered with paperwork. Morgan’s numerous virtues didn’t include pushing paper to the Army’s satisfaction when his clerk was absent.

She accepted the indicated seat but was wretchedly nervous, almost fidgeting in her chair. He wanted to snatch her up and swear the world would never hurt her again, then hunt down Charlie Jones and his fool wife. William closed the wooden shutters on the single window, filtering out much of the light and noise from the bustling corrals, then settled into his big oak swivel chair.

“What can I do for you, Mrs. Ross?” He kept his voice gentle, his California drawl soft against the muffled noises from outside.

She took a deep breath, drew herself up straight and tall, and launched into speech. “May I become your mistress, Mr. Donovan?”

“What?! What the devil are you talking about?” he choked, too stunned to watch his language. He knew his mouth was hanging open. “Are you making a joke, Mrs. Ross?”

“Hardly, Mr. Donovan.” She met his eyes directly, pulse pounding in her throat. “You may not have heard, but my business partner sold everything to Mr. Lennox.”

He nodded curtly. He must have been right before: she needed money. “I met Mr. and Mrs. Jones on their way out of town. I won’t be doing business with them again,” he added harshly.

“Quite so. But my only choices now are to marry Mr. Lennox or find another man to protect me. I’d rather be yours than an Apache’s.”

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” William muttered as he stood and began to pace.
Think, boyo, think. She deserves better than being your woman.
Heat lanced from his heart down his spine at the thought of her in his arms every night. Marriage? No, she’d never agree to a Catholic ceremony. “There are other men, men who’d marry you,” he pointed out hoarsely.

“I will not remarry. Besides, Mr. Lennox blocked all offers other than his.”

“Son of a bitch.” The bastard should be shot. “What about your family?”

“They disinherited me when I married Edward. Both families refused my letters informing them of his death.”

How the devil could a parent abandon a child, no matter what the quarrel? His father had given everything to protect his children.

William’s gut tightened at the thought. Condoms were helpful but not a guarantee. If she stayed in his bed long enough, the odds were good…

“You could become pregnant,” he warned, his eyes returning to her face. Blessed Virgin, what he wouldn’t do to see Viola proud and happy, holding his babe in her arms.

“I can’t have children.”

“The fault could be in the stallion, not the mare,” William suggested, his drawl more pronounced. And this stallion would dearly love to prove his potency where another had failed, his cock caroled.

Breathe deep, boyo, let the lust fade,
his brain warned.
You were trained by the best and you’ll not leap upon a woman.

Viola stared at him and firmly shook her head. “All of Edward’s siblings have at least three children. No, the difficulty is entirely mine.”

He considered her slender body thoughtfully as he remembered other fragile women who’d rarely, if ever, conceived. Viola could be correct about her infertility.

More to the point, she was stubborn enough to continue insisting on this madness of becoming his mistress, no matter what arguments he mustered. Perhaps if he took her, he could sate his hunger before her inevitable departure. His cock eagerly agreed with this reasoning.

He moved to the window before speaking again, trying desperately to think. She needed to be warned about what to expect if she stayed with him.

“I have strong demands and unique tastes.” His voice was darker now. If she came to his bed, he’d play the games he loved, no doubt about it. But he’d never mastered a woman who hadn’t consented and he never would.

“And I understand you pay Mrs. Smith’s girls very well to satisfy them. I should think you would be glad to have a woman constantly available to you.” A hot flush lit her cheekbones and her pulse pounded in her throat as she licked her lips.

Blessed Virgin, she was aroused by this conversation, but did she know what he was talking about? His fist hit the rough wall. “Mother of God, Mrs. Ross, do you have any idea of what I might do with you?”

She ignored his profanity. “No, but I’m willing to learn.”

Dear God in heaven, the images those words evoked. Viola’s moon-bright hair spilling across his thighs as she cherished his cock with her mouth. Viola, flung across silk sheets as she howled her pleasure under him. Viola’s sweet ass, blazing red from his attentions, thrusting back against his cock as she begged for more…

What wouldn’t she do as his mistress?

“Are you offering me carte blanche, Mrs. Ross, to act as I please in the bedroom?”

“Your horses love you and you whipped a man once for kicking a dog. I believe you’ll treat me with at least as much consideration.”

Did she mean it? Would she truly let him do what he wanted with her? His brain finally agreed with his cock on the need to grab her now, quickly, before she had time to reconsider. He gave voice to the bargain. “I give you my word on that. And I’ll protect you from those who’d harm you as well.”

“Such as Mr. Lennox?”

His jaw set. “Definitely against Lennox.”

“Thank you.” She smiled at him, then went on more briskly, “How much?”

William coughed at her businesslike words, which were a complete contrast to her nipples’ eager thrust against the thin cloth. “What did you have in mind?”

“One hundred dollars a week. I believe you regularly spend more than that at Mrs. Smith’s.”

If he paid her by the week, she could leave after a few days’ notice. Everything in him railed at the idea, desperate to keep her as long as possible.

William kept his expression shuttered as he answered, leaning back against the desk. “A weekly rate wouldn’t suit me. It will take time to teach you my preferences.”

“How long?”

His eyes hooded for a moment. What was the minimum stay for a student at Lyonsgate? “Three months.”

She didn’t blink. “One thousand dollars.”

Bloody hell, she hadn’t balked at the time he’d demanded. He summarized the deal clearly, needing her complete agreement before he acted. “And for that sum and my protection, you will live under my roof, be constantly at my disposal, and learn how best to please me.”

“Yes, sir.” She took a very deep breath, straining the blue calico over her slight breasts. A tremor ran up his spine. His balls were as taut as if this morning’s relief had occurred weeks ago.

His eyes swept over her and she met them steadily. Then he stared out at the window shutters for a long time as he fought to think. Could he really do this? On the other hand, could he turn her down? He knew the answer to that: no.

He could hear one of his men whistling in the distance, against the steady thud of barrels being stacked in wagons.

“Very well,” William said finally, his voice far too rough in his ears. “It will take a little time to gather that much cash together. Where would you care to wait?”

“No!”

He stared at her, caught by the first note of fear in her voice. Was she physically afraid of Lennox, not just annoyed by his attentions?

“I mean, we can commence now,” Viola stammered. “I am sure you’re good for the money.”

Their eyes met and anger rose in William. The bastard had done something to her, probably threatened her. He deserved to be hung, even if he was Donovan & Sons’ biggest client in this territory, other than the Army.

William bowed slightly to her. “Thank you for your confidence in me. Very well, we’ll begin immediately.” And give her one last chance to change her mind.

Viola shivered and blushed, looking delectable. He smiled, enjoying the anticipation drumming in his cock. He extended his hand to her and lifted her to her feet, his eyes searching hers for every hint of carnal interest. She trembled again.

William smiled as he kissed her hand, pleased at this assurance. He lingered a moment to savor her sweet, slightly musky scent. “Take off your bonnet, Viola.”

“Yes, sir.” She fumbled with the strings but finally managed to set it aside.

“Beautiful hair,” he murmured as he tucked a stray lock behind her ears. “You’ll wear it down for me often.”

She blinked and nodded, clearly baffled by why he should want such behavior. She was still bemused when he glided his fingers over her throat, across her shoulders, and down her arms. Silken smooth, soft warmth under the skin. Strong muscle and bone from working Ross’s claim. More exquisite than a dream.

His woman. For three months, his faerie queen would welcome only him. It had to be long enough.

He drew her hands up to his mouth and kissed them, fondling her fingers. “Pleasure me with these hands, Viola.” His voice lingered over her name. “Ease me with your mouth before we leave.”

“What?” she squeaked.

“Bring me to completion in your mouth, Viola.”

“I don’t know how,” she whispered.

His blood raced with surprise, then hunger. By all the saints, he’d be the first to fill her mouth…

She blushed scarlet, in vivid contrast to her proper white collar, as she stared at him.

Easy now, boyo, don’t frighten the innocent lady.
He calmed his face and gentled his voice. “You’ll find it easy enough to do, sweetheart. And I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

“Very well.” She swallowed hard, her pulse galloping in her throat. He kissed her trembling fingers before releasing them, then settled back into the big swivel chair.

“You can start by touching me. You’ll need to undress me, too, at least somewhat.”

“Of course.” She came to him hesitantly, her eyes enormous. Had her fool husband mistreated her? Surely not. She hadn’t seemed afraid during their negotiations. And she couldn’t be untouched; she’d bargained too directly, unlike a skittish virgin. Besides, her husband must have taught her something during five years of marriage.

He trembled when she lightly touched his shoulders, and closed his eyes. She froze. Bloody hell, she didn’t even know how to touch a man. He truly would have to guide her.

William took a deep breath, then another, easing his body’s harsh urgency until he could take command. “Open my shirt, Viola. Bare skin to bare skin there first.”

She carefully unbuttoned it and the soft white undervest below. Then she set her palm against him, brushing it lightly against his chest hair. She circled his nipple gently, then rubbed it.

If she was as ignorant as she seemed of men’s pleasure, then she surely had a natural talent for building it, given a few hints.

“Oh yes, sweetheart.” William kept his voice steady with an effort. “Kiss it for me. Use all of your mouth. Lips, tongue, teeth.”

She nuzzled his nipple gently, awkwardly. Hesitated for a moment, until he nearly ordered her to get on with it, then she kissed it. Heaven on earth promptly appeared to him.

He groaned quietly at her lips’ suppleness, so soon withdrawn from him. He needed more.

“Tongue and teeth, too, sweetheart.” He’d build her obedience now, in little things that didn’t threaten her.

She obeyed cautiously. The tentative damp flick set a fiery bolt lancing through his chest. Somehow he managed to stay silent, fighting for control of himself.

Her tongue circled his other nipple before she sucked. He growled, restlessly circling his hips against the chair. “Continue, but do so as you proceed down my chest and stomach, sweetheart.”

He was ruefully proud of how steady his voice sounded. A master, especially one as well trained as he, shouldn’t want to howl over a few minutes’ clumsy licking by a beautiful woman, no matter how often he’d dreamed of her. He distantly wondered what condition his brain would be in when his cockhead first felt her lips.

Viola nuzzled and licked the line of hair down his stomach, opening his shirt wider. He rewarded her with growls and shudders as she learned him, using his voice to lead her. “Ah yes, sweetheart. Very good. Linger a bit longer there. That’s my girl.”

She did so, sending a long shudder of delight through his gut and up his spine. His jaw clenched against the need to moan.

He urged her on as she experimented with various touches: hard or soft; push or circle; lips, tongue, or teeth. Blood raced through his veins, building in his cock and chest with the demand for more. He caressed her head, silently urging her closer. She leaned into his touch while continuing her attentions to his torso.

She jumped and stopped when the hot ridge under his trousers bumped her chin. His cock had just declared its objection to waiting for her.

“Open it, sweetheart.”

“Mr. Donovan, are you really certain we should do this?” she stammered, her fingertips still making small circles against his stomach. He had little patience to set against his clamoring lust.