Authors: Johanna Lindsey
Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Romance, #Erotica
“I warned you before about those nails, Sam.”
“Hank?” she gasped, disbelieving. “Oh, God…Hank!”
She began to sob. Gently he pulled her to her feet and gathered her in his arms.
“It is over,
querida mía
. Ah,
mi amor
, hush now,” he soothed. “You are safe. It’s over.”
I
T seemed a very long ride back to town. Jean had been shot, by Sheldon. That had been the shot they’d heard. He was only wounded, not dead, and Sheldon had him tied to Hank’s horse. He was personally escorting him to jail, refusing to let Jean out of his sight.
At long last, Sheldon had showed his temper. He was in a rage after Samantha explained Jean and Teresa’s lethal plans. She had waited a long time to see him so angry. She was glad that he wasn’t taking Teresa’s treachery badly. He was furious at being duped, but he did not grieve over Teresa.
Peters had got away. And it had taken time to catch up with Froilana and bring her back. She was asleep in the carriage, with Hank driving and Samantha holding Jaime close to her. She had come too close to losing him, and to losing her own life. She prayed she would never have another night like this one.
It was gray dawn as they reached the Blackstone townhouse. Sheldon went on into town with Jean. Samantha almost pitied Teresa when Sheldon got hold of her.
Froilana took Jaime to his room, and Hank followed Samantha into her room and closed the door after them. She turned to look at him carefully. She was grateful. If he hadn’t found her gun and realized something was very wrong, she would probably be dead. They had, in effect, declared a truce. But only for a while, she thought.
“What do you want, Hank?”
He didn’t answer. Samantha looked more closely and
saw the dark look in his eyes. He was angry, seething. Her back stiffened in defense.
“Answer me.” Her tone turned aggressive.
He exploded. “Can you even imagine how frightened I was for you?
Por Dios!
You were nearly killed!”
Samantha thrust her chin upward. “Don’t you take that tone with me! It wasn’t my fault!”
“Like hell!” he shouted. “If you had not kept me from your room that Frenchman would never have been able to get to you. He would have had to kill me first!”
“Oh, fine. A lot of good it would have done me if you were dead!”
They stared at each other furiously, then suddenly Samantha grinned at the stupidity of the argument, and Hank burst into laughter.
“Did you see my brother?” Samantha giggled. “I swear he wanted to shoot Jean all over again when he tried to explain what he’d done.”
“And what about you? Pulling me down the way you would a steer.”
“Too bad I didn’t have a rope.”
“You would have liked that, eh? Tie me up and do your worst?”
“I didn’t do so badly.”
“You lost, however.”
“Oh?” She grinned. “I notice you didn’t hold me down very long, Mr. Winner. Certainly not like you…used…to.”
Samantha sobered. Why had she said that? Bringing up the past broke the fragile truce.
Hank realized it, too. But he wasn’t ready for the spell to end. Tonight, he had realized more than ever how much he loved her. Racing to find her, half out of his mind with fear that he would be too late. He had to tell her.
“Samantha.”
She backed away, her defenses rising. “No, Hank, I think you’d better—”
He caught her to him and silenced her protests with his lips. She raised her hands to push him away, but before she touched him, her resistance was gone. Her hands curled around his neck. All the long months apart, months of remembering how it was between them, the fiery magic, the incredible ecstasy. Samantha wanted it, needed it again, this one last time.
There was no room for doubt any longer, not when he was searing her with his lips, lifting her, carrying her to the bed.
Her robe was cast aside and nightgown quickly followed. Not for one second did Hank stop the kisses he placed here and there, springing loose Samantha’s passion. When he moved away for a few moments to shed his clothing, she waited breathlessly for the touch of his body against hers. Soon enough, it was there. Her limbs curled around him, and she arched her body to meet the drive of his first thrust.
It was almost more than she could bear, that explosion that came only a few moments later. Coming all too soon, still it went on and on as Hank continued thrusting into her until at long last, he reached his own height.
When Hank collapsed on her litterly spent and so very vulnerable, Samantha was filled with sudden tenderness. His desire for her was real, even if nothing else was. She carried that realization with her into sleep.
Hank woke to find Samantha standing at the foot of the bed, her gun leveled directly at his chest. Wearing only her white flannel nightgown, her hair streaming in dark abundance down her shoulders and back, she looked too innocent for the hard anger in her eyes. She moved the gun, indicating that he should get out of bed, and he cursed silently. He had had his chance to talk to her, had it but lost it when she responded to his kiss. Talking was forgotten in favor of their passion. Had he lost his one chance to speak?
He pulled on his clothes, angry. “You do not play fairly, Samantha.”
“Don’t talk to me about fair play,” she snapped. “You took advantage of me.”
“No. I only kissed you. Everything after that was done by both of us—together.”
“I’m not going to discuss it,” she replied stiffly. “Just leave, Hank.”
His eyes narrowed at her hard tone. “Damn it, Sam, we have to talk.”
“No.”
“But we cannot go on this way, and—”
“We can’t live under the same roof, or else this will happen again.”
“Would that be so bad?” he asked softly.
“Yes,” she said evenly.
He shook his head. “The real problem is that we fight when we no longer have any reason to.”
“I have reason,” she replied. “I don’t trust you, Hank. I’m going home. And no doubt you’ll return to the Hacienda de las Flores that you fought so hard to get. And that takes care of our problems.”
“But you are my wife.”
“In name only. That was your own doing, or don’t you remember? You married me only to get your land. You never intended to see me again. You didn’t care anything for me. Remember, Hank?”
“I said many things then that I did not mean, Sam. You did, too,” he reminded her. “You swore you would divorce me, but you haven’t.”
“If you’re worried that I’ll tie you up indefinitely with this marriage, you needn’t be. I’ll divorce you eventually.”
“That is not what I want.”
“I
know
what you want, Hank.” Her voice rose again. “But you can’t have Jaime.”
“Sam—”
“No! Now get out of here!”
“Are you afraid to hear what I have to say?” he asked, his voice soft. “Is that why you stop me before I can even begin?”
“I’m not slow witted, Hank. I know very well what your plan is. You’ll tell me you love me, say we should make our marriage work for Jaime’s sake. But it will just be lies, Hank.”
“I
do
love you, Sam.”
She faltered, hearing him actually say the words. But she wouldn’t let herself trust him.
“No, you don’t. I know you, Hank. You will say anything to get what you want, and you want Jaime. I don’t blame you. But you gave him to me. He’s mine, not yours.”
“What can I say to convince you I love you?”
“Nothing,” she returned stubbornly. “You proved your true feelings long ago.”
“That was only anger and pride, Sam, I swear.”
“Oh, God!” she cried. “Get out!” She raised the gun. “Out! I can’t stand any more!”
Hank stared at her hard for a moment, then slammed out of the room. The forcefulness of his exit signaled its finality, and Samantha knew, deep inside, that she would never see him again. He would leave the house as soon as he could, and that would be the end of it.
Tears sprang to her eyes, and she wiped them away furiously.
S
AMANTHA didn’t leave her room for the rest of the day. Froilana came in later to tell her that Hank had packed all his things and gone. She wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t said good-bye. In truth, she was numb, spent, with nothing left, not even regret.
When she joined Sheldon for breakfast the next day, she told him she would be leaving for home within the week. Characteristically, he took the news without even raising a brow. But his reply surprised her.
“What is your hurry, my dear?” he said drily. “After all, your husband isn’t here any longer to elicit any complaints.”
She drew herself up. “Do I detect a bit of sarcasm, Sheldon?”
“Well, you must admit you weren’t exactly fair to the man,” he replied.
Samantha didn’t try to keep the anger from her voice. “You always did take his side, and without knowing any of the facts, too. Did it ever occur to you that I might have had good reason to put him off? The man hates me!”
“That is ridiculous. It was plain that he loved you.”
“How would you know?” she snapped, then added cuttingly, “You couldn’t even see what was going on right under your nose with Teresa and Jean. I’m not impressed by your observations regarding Hank.”
“You fight dirty, don’t you, sister?” Sheldon’s voice was low.
Samantha blushed. “I’m sorry,” she replied, truly contrite. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, it’s quite all right, Samantha,” he said. “The matter is done with, and I’m certainly not going to mourn the loss.”
“But didn’t you love her?”
“Yes, I suppose I did.”
“You suppose?” Samantha was incredulous. “Why did you ask her to marry you if that was all you felt?”
Sheldon shrugged. “She would have made a suitable wife. It was time I married.”
“Don’t you think it would be nice to marry someone you love?” she asked, trying to keep her tone reasonable. “Or don’t you want love?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
Samantha’s eyes sparkled again. “Neither Hank nor I wanted to get married. I told you, you don’t know the facts.”
“But you love each other.”
“Lord! You’re as infuriating as he is, Sheldon. We were talking about you—for a change. Can you please stick to the subject?”
“If you must know, I’ve been looking for a wife for quite some time now.”
“And Teresa was the best you could find? I can’t believe that, Sheldon. Surely there were others?”
“Yes, actually there were several I could have lost my heart to. But I’m afraid
I
didn’t strike
their
fancy.”
“I can tell you why.”
He looked at her sharply. “I would rather you didn’t. You are a bit blunt for my taste.”
“And you’re not blunt enough.”
“There are certain standards a gentleman must—”
“Oh, balderdash,” she scoffed. “Where is it written a man can’t show a little feeling? That’s your trouble, Sheldon. You never run hot, not even warm. You’re always cold, cold, cold, like you’re made of stone. You
know, the first time you raised your voice since I’ve been here was the other night? You were wonderful!”
“I was angry, Samantha.”
“Of course! You had every reason to be. And didn’t you feel better afterward? A person has to feel once in a while, Sheldon. If you’re amused, show it. If you’re happy, show that, too.”
“And if you’re in love?” he asked pointedly. “You should take your own advice, Samantha.”
“We’re not talking about me,” she said coldly, and at that, they both fell silent.
He was right. She loved Hank, but she had never let him know. When had she stopped hating him and fallen in love? Oh, did it matter? She couldn’t go back and do everything all over again. She had made him hate her, and she couldn’t change that now or ever. It was done.
“Have you seen Teresa?” Samantha asked, hoping to take her mind off Hank.
“Yes. It was really quite amusing, the way she cried her innocence. She tried to make me believe that Jean acted on his own, and that there was nothing between them.”
“You didn’t believe her?”
“Of course not. It was obvious that she had expected me to say that you were dead—not tell her that her lover was in jail. Her shock was apparent. I’m afraid I lost my temper. And you’re right, I did feel much better afterward.”
Samantha grinned mischievously. “You ought to come home with me, Sheldon. Father could
really
teach you how to lose your temper.”
“I might just do that.”
Her mouth fell open. “Do you mean it?”
“Yes. Why not?”
“Oh, Shelly—”
“For God’s sake, Samantha, don’t call me that!” he said.
“Oh, shut up.” She laughed. “This is wonderful.
You’re going to make father so happy. He’ll be so surprised! Oh, Sheldon, I could kiss you.”
“Let’s not get carried away, my dear. I haven’t lost all my British veneer yet.”
“You will, Sheldon. Yes, you certainly will. I’ll see to that.”
Sheldon cast his gaze heavenward, as if begging for help.
S
AMANTHA would never forget the look on her father’s face when he met his full-grown son. That reunion was a heart-rending time.
After a month, Sheldon seemed a different man altogether, wearing cowboy duds, out on the range each day, learning ranching. He took to it well. And Hamilton was always nearby, watching, teaching, so proud to have his son with him at last.
Samantha felt a little left out, but she was so happy for her father that she couldn’t complain. They were a whole family now. But she was missing something, missing a man. Little Jaime meant the world to her, but he couldn’t completely fill the void in her life.
She had done a lot of soul-searching on the trip home, and she saw that her life did not present a pretty picture. If only she could change things so the future wouldn’t look so grim, so lonely.
The very least she could do was try, she told herself simply. Hank might not love her, and she might end up killing him if he ever looked at another woman, especially Angela, but she would be happier with him than apart from him. That was the truth. She needed Hank. She needed the sight of him. She needed his touch. Damn it, she would make him love her.