“It wasn’t a threat.” He took her hand by the wrist and dragged it away from his arm. “The next time he touches you, I’ll kill him.”
He meant it, Sarah realized. She stood rooted to the spot. The ways of the West might still be new to her, but she recognized murder when she saw it in a man’s eyes. With her shawl flying behind her, she raced after him.
“Are you mad?”
“Maybe.”
“What concern is my relationship with Samuel Carlson to you? I assure you that if I didn’t wish Samuel, or any man, to touch me, I would not be touched.” “So you like it?” The horses shied nervously when he spun around to her. “You like having him hold you, put his hands over you, kiss you.”
She would have suffered the tortures of hell rather than admit that Carlson had done no more than kiss her fingers. And that the only man who had done more was standing before her now. She stepped forward until she was toe-to-toe with him.
“I’ll risk repeating myself and say that it’s none of your business.”
The way she lifted that chin, he thought, she was just asking to have it punched. “I figure it is.” He dragged the horses inside the shed to unharness them. “You figure incorrectly.” Sarah followed him inside.
Dignified or not, she was going to have her say. “What I do is my business, and mine alone. I’ve done nothing I’m ashamed of, and certainly nothing I feel requires justification to you. If I allow Samuel to court me, you have no say in the matter whatsoever.”
“Is that what you call it?” He dragged the first horse into its stall. “Courting?”
She went icily still. “Have you another name for it?”
“Maybe I’ve been wrong about you.” He took the second horse by the bridle as he studied Sarah. “I thought you were a bit choosier. Then again, you didn’t pull back when I put my hands on you.” He grabbed her wrist before she could have the satisfaction of slapping his face.
“How dare you?” Her breath heaved through her lips. “How dare you speak to me that way?” When she jerked free, her shawl fell to the ground unnoticed.
“No, I didn’t object when you touched me. By God, I wish I had. You make me feel-” The words backed up in her throat. Sarah dug her fingers into her palms until she could choke them free. “You made me feel things I still don’t understand. You made me trust you, and those feelings, when it was all a lie. You made me want you when you didn’t want me back. After you’d done that, you turned away as though it had meant nothing.”
Pain clawed through his gut. What she was saying was true. The hurt shining from her eyes was real. “You’re better off,” he said quietly as he led the horse into a stall.
“I couldn’t agree more.” She wanted to weep.
“But if you think that gives you any right to interfere in my life, you’re wrong. Very wrong.”
“You jumped mighty fast from my arms to his.”
Bitterness hardened the words even as he cursed himself for saying them.
“I?” It was too much-much more than she could bear. Driven by fury, she grabbed his shirt with both hands. “It wasn’t I who jumped, it was you. You left me here without a word, then rode straight to the Silver Star. You kissed me, then rubbed my taste from your mouth so that you could kiss her.”
“Who?” He caught her by the shoulder before she could rush back outside. “Who?”
“I have nothing more to say to you.”
“You started it. Now finish it. Whose bed do you have me jumping in, Sarah?”
“Carlotta’s.” She threw the name at him with all the hurt and fury that was bottled up inside of her. “You left me to go to her. If that wasn’t enough hurt and humiliation, you told her to hire me.”
“Hire you?” Shock had his fingers tightening, bruising her flesh. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You know very well you told her she should hire me to sew dresses for her and her-the others.” “Sew?” He didn’t know if he should laugh or curse. Slowly he released his grip and let his hands fall to his sides. “Whatever else you think about me, you should know I’m not stupid.”
“I don’t know what I think about you.” She was fighting back tears now, and it infuriated her. It was the gleam of those tears that had him explaining when he would have preferred to keep silent.
“I never told Carlotta to hire you, for anything. And I haven’t been with-” He broke off, swearing. Before he could stride out, she snatched his arm again. She’d conquered her tears, but she couldn’t stop her heart from pounding.
“Are you telling me that you haven’t been to the Silver Star?”
“No. I’m not telling you that.”
“I see.” With a bitter little laugh, she rubbed her temple. “So you’ve simply found, and bought, another woman who suits you. Poor Carlotta. She must be devastated.” “It would take a hell of a lot more than that. And I haven’t bought anything in the Silver Star but whiskey since you-since I got back to town.”
“Why?” She had to force even a whisper through her lips.
“That’s my business.” Cursing himself, he started out again, only to have her rush to stop him.
“I asked you a question.”
“I gave you my answer.” He scooped up her shawl and pushed it into her hands. “Now go to bed.”
She tossed the filmy lace on the ground again. “I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you until you tell me why you haven’t been with her, or anyone.”
“Because I can’t stop thinking about you.” Enraged, he shoved her back against the wall with a force that had pins scattering and her hair tumbling wild and free to her waist. He wanted to frighten her, frighten her half as much as she frightened him. “You’re not safe with me, Duchess.” He leaned close to her, dragging a hand roughly through her hair. “Remember that.”
She pressed her damp hands against the wall. It wasn’t fear she felt. The emotion was strong and driving, but it wasn’t fear. “You don’t want me.”
“Wanting you’s eating holes in me.” His free hand slid up to circle her neck. “I’d rather be shot than feel the way you make me feel.”
“How do I make you feel?” she murmured.
“Reckless.” It was true, but it wasn’t everything. “And that’s not smart, not for either of us. I’ll hurt you.” He squeezed lightly, trying to prove it to them both. “And I won’t give a damn. So you better run while I still have a mind to let you.”
“I’m not running.” Even if she had wanted to, it would have been impossible. Her legs were weak and trembling. She was already out of breath. “But you are.” Knowing exactly what she was doing, what she was risking, she raised her chin. “Threats come easily to you. If you were the kind of man you say you are, and you wanted me, you’d take me. Right here, right now.”
His eyes darkened. They were almost black as they bored into hers. She didn’t wince as his fingers tightened painfully in her hair. Instead, she kept her chin up and dared him.
“Damn you.” He brought his mouth down hard on hers. To scare her, he told himself as he pressed her back against the wall and took his fill. To make her see once and for all what he was. Ruthless, knowing she would bruise, he dragged his hands over her. He touched her the way he would have touched a girl at the Silver Star. Boldly, carelessly. He wanted to bring her to tears, to make her sob and tremble and beg him to leave her alone.
Maybe then he would be able to.
He heard her muffled cry against his mouth and tried to pull back. Her arms circled him, drawing him in.
She gave, herself totally, unrestrainedly, to the embrace. He was trying to hurt her, she knew. But he couldn’t. She would make him see that being in his arms would never cause her pain. She gasped, forced to grip him tighter to keep her balance, when his mouth roamed down her throat, spreading luxuriant heat. The scraping of his teeth against her skin had her moaning. Too aroused to be shocked by her own actions, she tugged at his shirt.” She wanted to touch his skin again, wanted to feel the warmth of it. He was losing himself in her. No, he was already lost. Her scent, the fragility of it, had his senses spinning.