Ride The Wild Wind (Time Travel Historical Romance) (17 page)

His fingertips skimmed up and down her arm in lazy, sensual motions,
setting off shivers of desire.  

“Tell me who you really are and why you’ve come.”

Halle struggled to form words. She wasn’t certain why she’d been sent to
the past, other than her resemblance to Hope Brannigan. But she couldn’t tell
him the truth. He’d think she was crazy. Still, it was worth a shot. “My real
name is Halle Brooks.”

He repeated her name in that deep rich voice that made her tingle all
over. “Has no one ever treated you with kindness, Halle Brooks?”

No.

Her resolved crumbled. It had been a long time since anyone had touched
her tenderly, even longer since she felt the desire to bond with another human
being. While she didn’t understand her overpowering need to be intimate with
him, she wanted a physical connection all the same.  She leaned into his
palm and closed her eyes, allowing the luxury of his comforting touch. Could
she trust him not to break her heart? Was it worth the risk of finding out? She
drew a deep, steadying breath and held it, then opened her eyes. And in that
moment, she knew the answer. Yes, it was worth it.

“Am I still the first man to touch you intimately?” He traced her lower
lip with his fingertip.

She struggled to find her voice above the wild pounding of her heart. If
she said yes, would he reject her for her inexperience? If he did, she would
die.
She would die!
She couldn’t bear the thought of him not wanting
her.

“I am, aren’t I?”

She held her breath and nodded as her heart beat sped up.

Halle half
expected he might stop with the admission. Instead he laid her down gently
beneath an indigo sky filled with a million glittering stars and began with
slow, soft kisses to her mouth, followed by tender touches to her breasts that
made her body ache to be closer to his.

“You are so
lovely,” he whispered against her cheek as his warm palm slid beneath her shirt
to cup a breast.

“I feel tingly
inside,” she confessed.

“Does your body
ache?”

“Yeah.” She
shuddered involuntarily.” But it’s a good ache, if you know what I mean.”

He chuckled softly
against her ear. “I do.”

Okay. Apparently
he knew a lot about women. Did that mean he’d slept with many? She found the
thought mildly disturbing.

His palm left her
breast and smoothed downward over her belly, stopping all thought process. He
withdrew, hesitated, as if he were waiting for permission to proceed.

“Halle?” It was a
hoarse plea. “Be certain this is what you want.”

Instinctively, she
knew that no matter what happened between them tonight, he wouldn’t hurt her,
at least not physically. In the morning she might regret what they’d done, but
for now she would know what it was like to be held and caressed. At least once.
“Yeah. It’s what I want.”

He traced her
facial features with his fingertips, her pulse quickening as he stroked
downward over her throat. She inclined her face to his, found her lips yielding
beneath his once more, her breasts responding hungrily to his sweet caresses.
When she thought she could stand no more, he ducked and lowered his head,
taking one nipple into his hot mouth.

Halle’s reaction
was immediate, yet involuntary. She arched upward into him as shards of
pleasure splintered throughout her body. A small whimpering sound she barely
recognized as her own voice broke free.

She wanted more of
this.
Oh, yeah!
And she wanted him to ease the ache deep in the pit of
her womb. Her hands threaded into his soft hair, holding him at her breast
while he suckled vigorously.

There was a
wildness to his movements, a fierce response to her pleasured sighs. He tore his
mouth from her breast and his warm palm slid over her rib cage, smoothing
downward across her lower abdomen before dipping into the dark curls at the
apex of her thighs. He nuzzled at her breast, his tongue flicking out to taste
her again. Halle sucked in an audible breath and froze as he tentatively
touched the part of her that ached the most.

“It is all right,”
he whispered.

Easing her thighs
apart slightly, she panted, anticipating his next move. He worked his fingertip
over her pleasure center.
Mmm, nice
. She closed her eyes, surrendering
to the magic.

Then it was over.

With a whispered
curse, he moved away and rolled onto his back. He lay quietly beside her, his
labored breaths the only sounds of the night, the tension between them
palpable. Something had gone terribly wrong and she hadn’t any idea of what.

After a few
moments passed, she worked up the courage to look at him. He was still on his
back, his hands tucked behind his head, staring at the vast night sky as if in
deep thought.

“Antonio?”

He didn’t answer.

Cold and confused,
she closed the shirt and stared up at the stars too, wishing he’d say something
to break the unbearable silence. But he left suddenly and disappeared into the
darkness.

Halle buttoned the
shirt, then snuggled warmly beneath the blanket with Max. At first she thought
she’d pissed him off. Then as doubt crept in, she wondered if he’d simply been
repulsed by her ugly hair and skinny body. After all, she couldn’t compare to
the beautiful, voluptuous Elena Costanza. Rational thought prevailed and she
realized it was her lack of sexual experience that repelled him. She didn’t
know how to give
him
pleasure
.

When he returned a
while later, he wouldn’t make eye contact and instead sat and stared into the
fire, poking absently at the orange embers with a stick once in a while.

She tossed and
turned on the hard ground, restless and aching for more of his touch. Then she
got good and pissed. How dare he work her into a state of extreme horniness,
bring her to the brink of whatever had been about to happen, and then just
leave her cold and aching for more. Had he thought she’d been leading him on?

Anger soon gave
rise to bravery. She joined him fireside, determined to get at the root of the
problem.  The firm set of his jaw and his intense, unwavering gaze into
the firelight indicated he was lost in deep thought. Either that, or ignoring
her. Too bad. It was time to settle this. 

She began by doing
a complete one hundred eighty degree turn. Catch him off guard. Then she’d have
the advantage.

“I’m sorry,
Antonio.”

He did not look at
her. “Why are you apologizing?” His tone was bitter.

Halle clenched her
eyes shut. She hated this
kill your enemies with kindness thing
, but it
usually worked much better than an outright confrontation. “For what just
happened between us.” She gritted her teeth in distaste.
Okay, that sounded
too sugar-coated.

He laughed harshly
and looked at her, his eyes raking her. Gone was the gentle man who’d minutes
ago tended her injuries, the tender lover who’d kissed her with passion.

“Nothing
happened,
Miss Brannigan, and I suggest you remember that when I return you to your
uncle. I don’t need a rape charge added to my list of crimes. Now move away
from me and go to sleep. We have had enough excitement for one day.”

Miss Brannigan?
He still believed she was Frank Cole’s niece despite her denial? Bitter tears
stung her eyes. He was going to drop her into the clutches of a murderer! This
smooth talking bastard didn’t care about her at all!

“I thought you
might have a heart.” She choked as tears of humiliation and rage blinded her.
The pain of his betrayal squeezed at her chest, nearly suffocating her. And to
think she would have let this man be her first lover! “I thought you cared. “
Her voice broke. So did her heart into a thousand tiny fragments.

His glare remained
icy. “Why? Because I kissed you? Because my body hungers for yours? You thought
wrong. I care about my mother’s people, the women and children and elders.
Collecting the reward from Cole is the only way to buy guns and food to save
them from the savagery of your
government.” He shook his head, and
looked away. “I cannot
afford to
care about you. You’re going
back to Cole.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Halle wished she
had something to throw at him—any hard object that would cause cranial damage
and lots of hemorrhaging. She stood, then as an afterthought, reached down to
pick up a palm-sized stone. She slammed it toward him, but he ducked out of the
way and shot to his feet, the expression on his face, murderous.

 She
staggered backward, putting a safe distance between them. Her fists clenched in
to fists. Angry tears blurred her vision. He might outweigh her, might be
stronger, but if he dare touched her now, God help his sorry hide. He’d find
out what a tangle with Halle Naomi Brooks was all about!

“Frank Cole
doesn’t have any money to pay the reward!” Actually, she didn’t know if Cole
had any money left, suspecting she and Molly had bled him dry these past few
months. “He’ll never agree to your terms.”

Max shot out from
beneath the blanket and gave Antonio his best
I’ll tear your leg off
snarl.

Antonio stared,
his eyes narrowing into slits. “Since he has gone to much trouble to find you,
 I am certain he will pay whatever is required to get you back.”

“But I’m not his
niece. I might look like her in that drawing, but it’s not me. He’ll know the
instant he sees me.”

“Will he?”

Actually, Halle
wasn’t certain. Stella told her she was a dead ringer for the Brannigan woman
and she’d only seen the artist’s rendering, not an actual photograph. The
reward sketch was crude—an amateur’s work. Sure, there were small likenesses
such as high cheekbones and full lips. Even the arch of their eyebrows matched
exactly. Would Cole recognize the difference? With the right make up and hair
color, Halle had always been able to pass for white. But now that her dark hair
had grown out and her face was devoid of cosmetics….

Of course Cole
would realize she wasn’t his niece. But would he simply take her anyway? A
shiver raced up her spine at the thought.

No. She wouldn’t
go—not easily. She reached down and scooped up more pebbles with her hands,
hurled another at him, followed by a handful of smaller ones. Dodging the hail
of rocks, he charged as she limped away. He caught hold of the blanket and
yanked it from her grip then flung it aside. He grasped her by one arm and spun
her around to face him.

“Do you truly
believe what I feel for you is more than lust?” He took her roughly by the
shoulders and gave her a quick, sobering shake. “Do you?”

Halle blinked back stinging tears. His earlier kisses seemed genuine.
And he’d said she was beautiful! Was it all lies? She’d hoped after her
confession he might show compassion for all she’d endured, even a small bit.
Evidently she was wrong.

“You’re nothing more than a lying bastard.” She raked her fingernails
across his deeply tanned cheek, stunned when she didn’t draw blood. She swiped
at him again. He captured her wrist and pinned it behind her back, then pulled
her against him. Her nose and chin smashed against his bare sweaty chest.
Licking her lips, she tasted the salty moisture from his skin. She licked them
again and her tongue accidentally touched him. He jerked as if he’d been
singed.

“Damn you.”

Halle brought her free hand up and smacked him on the side of his head.
Stunned temporarily, he grasped her other wrist and brought it down to her
side. Frustrated, she fought to free herself from his grip, but his lips closed
over hers. His tongue plundered her mouth, taking what it wanted before
enticing hers into a slow, sensual dance. A lover’s kiss, she thought
foolishly, as if she knew of any such thing. But it was filled with genuine
emotion—too much so to be lust. All pretenses were off as Halle surrendered,
wanting him and hating him at the same time.

He tugged her to the ground and moved over her. His hardness settled
against her through his buckskins.  Halle felt him,
all of him
, his
full weight, his strength, his raw male sensuality. For a breathless, dizzying
moment she stared up at the handsome face silhouetted against the midnight sky
and her body dissolved into a pile of undercooked pudding.

Uncomfortable beneath his weight, she shifted her pelvis. A mistake. He
growled deep in his throat, his hand rushing beneath the shirt. She hated
herself for responding hungrily to his tender caresses but her body betrayed
her. This was insane, she thought as he dipped to kiss a fiery trail from her
chin to the hollow of her throat.

No, she was insane, for wanting him!

She lay frozen from the onslaught of new sensations swirling throughout
her body. Whitehorse quickly unbuttoned the shirt, moved lower, nuzzling each
breast before finally taking a nipple into his mouth. She arched into him,
surrendering to the exquisite pleasure. As he suckled tenderly at one exposed
nipple, she panted, unable to think as all sensibility fled in the wake of
searing pleasure.

In her mind she repeated all the reasons she shouldn’t be doing this. He
was a criminal, an outlaw who would be executed when captured. Not to mention
the possibility she might get pregnant from unprotected sex. But the excitement
of being with him was a potent aphrodisiac.

And besides, she was tired of being a good girl.

She’d spent her childhood trying to be what others wanted and never got
into any trouble as a teen, unless she counted the ridiculous hair incident
when she was fifteen. She never drank, smoked, or tried drugs. She was
dependable and trustworthy. She even graduated near the top of her senior
class. But despite all her efforts, none of her foster parents ever loved her
enough to give her a permanent home. An identity. To her, it seemed most people
wanted Caucasian children, not one of obvious, but undocumented ethnicity.

But for the first time in her life, Halle was her own person—not a
color, or a name on a file folder—but a woman. Her life was as untamed and
unencumbered as the vast desert surrounding her, as wild and free as the
handsome stranger now making love to her. And it wasn’t half bad of a way to
live.

Her fingers slid into his thick, silky hair and she closed her eyes,
savoring the moment, committing every scent and texture of him to memory. She
held him at her breast as if it were the most natural thing to do, all the
while warring with herself. She must be crazy to want him after the cruel
things he’d done and said. Maybe they both were. But one thing was certain.
Whitehorse felt something for her, more than lust, as he claimed. He cared,
whether he admitted it or not.

She stroked the shell of his outer ear with her thumb, then smoothed her
hands over his soft hair. It was a foreign feeling to touch another person so
intimately, but all the same, comforting. For a moment it almost didn’t matter
she’d known him only a few days, that he’d abducted her from Elena’s, or even
that he’d said cruel words to her in the heat of anger. Any scrap of bitterness
she once felt for him melted away with each flick of his soft tongue on her
nipples, each caress of his warm hands on her body. She was content to simply
touch him and to let him touch her.

She caressed his muscular shoulders, skimmed her palms over the smooth,
sleek curves of his upper back. She reveled in the erotic feel of his mouth and
hands on her breasts, the earthy smell of his skin.

Then she felt the warm wetness against her breast.

Tears
?

He jerked his face away when she touched his cheek.

“Don’t,” he growled.

“Hey, you’re crying.” She cupped the side of his face in her palm.

He stiffened. “I said not to do that.”

At his warning, she dropped her hand at her side, thinking she’d
embarrassed him. In the firelight, she caught the shimmer of tears in his eyes,
but he must have sensed it for he quickly turned his face away.

“I want you.” His whispered voice broke.

This wasn’t the way she imagined her first time might be. There was no
champagne chilling, no soft music or heart-shaped vibrating bed with a red
velvet coverlet, and no wedding ring. Instead, the stars were her blanket. Cold
hard rock made up her bed. The night air was thick with wood smoke, the breeze
fragrant with cedar and earth and man. And they were both free of commitments.
In its own primitive way, the moment was beautiful. Perfect.

He kissed and nuzzled her breasts, moving back and forth as if he couldn’t
decide which one he wanted more. One hand slipped beneath her buttocks. He
caressed her, kneaded her bottom, his fingernails digging into her soft flesh.

Halle gazed at the vast sky above, accepting there would be no
declaration of love tonight. Not that she expected it. Love was a fantasy, the
substance of children’s fairly tales. It never existed for her and most likely,
never would.

Then what was this disturbing emotion weighing upon her heart? Was she
falling in love? She lifted her hands to his shoulders, caressed them again and
her heart did a pit-a-pat.

Oh, yeah.  She was in love with him. And it was all so wrong. Even
if he truly didn’t intend to follow through with the reward, there was no
guarantee for a future for them. Hell, she didn’t even know what the future
held for
her.
Hadn’t she already learned that cruel lesson once? One
moment you’re living your life, then poof! You’re somewhere else in a time and
place you didn’t want to be.

Halle’s breath caught as he settled between her thighs. She hadn’t
realized he’d unbuttoned his pants until flesh met flesh. He was hot and hard
and she reveled in the new experience of his intimate touch. His eyes narrowed
into slits and he grimaced as if in pain.

“Are you all right?” she whispered

His eyes closed and she felt his body tremble against hers. “Yes.”

“You look like you’re in pain.”

He dipped to drop a kiss on her lips. “Not pain.”

She pressed her palms against his shoulders, keeping him at bay. “Wait.
First, I have to know something.”

“At this precise moment?”

“It’s really, really important.”

He was silent. “What?”

“Did you really mean what you said about handing me over to Frank Cole
for the reward?”

* * * * *

Antonio’s throat tightened as he recalled the harsh words he’d said in
anger. Hell no, he hadn’t meant it. Now he wished he could take back every
hurtful remark. He could no more send her back to Frank Cole than chop off his
own arm.

And he had lied to himself
about something, too. What he felt for
her was far from lust. He wasn’t certain how it happened or even when it began,
but over the past few days he’d come to care for her. The first woman he had
allowed himself to care for since his wife, Ooljee, died. Was it love? He drew
in a steadying breath and sighed. It had been a long time since he loved a
woman. He feared he
was
in love with this one. “No, you’re not going
back to Cole.”

Antonio gazed down at her. She had the most beautiful, expressive brown
eyes that hid no emotion. Full, lush lips. Heart shaped face.  Her cheeks
and throat were flushed, her nipples, dark and swollen from his impassioned
suckling. He reached between them and splayed one hand across her belly.

What was he going to do with her? He had promised not to turn her in for
the reward, but that placed him in a most difficult position? Winter was fast
closing in onThe People. They would starve without food.

He clenched his eyes shut. There was one
other option, one he had
refused to seriously consider until now. Sell his grandfather’s legacy, the
vast ranch the old man entrusted into Antonio’s care, Rancho de los Santos in
California.

“You will do great things with our family’s ranch one day mi’hijo,”
his
grandfather had said. At one time, Antonio believed he might. But his situation
had changed. Although selling the family legacy would rip his heart out, he
could not in good conscience turn this woman—Hope Brannigan or Halle Brooks or
whoever she truly was—over to Franklin Cole. The De Los Santos ranch in
California would instead be sold.

He slid down her trembling body, leaving a trail of soft kisses in his
wake. He knew from the tremble of her body she was frightened, yet
instinctively he also knew it had nothing to do with her inexperience or what
he was doing. She didn’t trust him. Not that he deserved it after the heartless
words he had hurled in anger.

Ducking down, he tongued her navel, savoring the sweet taste of her
silken skin. It had been well over a year since he had enjoyed the softness of
a woman’s body. Even longer since he’d known a virgin.

“Does this please you?” he murmured against her skin.

Her hand lifted and tentatively touched the back of his head. “Y-yes.”

Gazing down, he dipped a fingertip into the silken wetness, finding her
slick with her own dew.

She lay still, beautiful and sensuous, watching his every move, her eyes
misted with desire and another emotion he could not determine. He pleasured her
a moment, not bringing her to orgasm yet, but helping her to relax and trust
him.  She shivered.

“Are you cold?” he asked, looking up at her.

“No.”

“Frightened by what I am doing?”

“No.”

He watched her eyes widen, listened to her sharp intake of breath as he
pressed one finger into her slick softness. His own breath quickened as blood
surged into his cock. Her body was ready enough to accept him, but tight. Too
tight, he realized as he tried a second finger without success. She squirmed
and made a little moaning noise of protest deep in her throat

“Shhh, I will not hurt you.” He inched deeper and she tensed. There was
no way she could take him. Not yet, anyway. Still, he continued, pressing
deeper until he encountered the barrier—proof of her innocence.

Withdrawing, he stroked her pleasure center again. She made little
whimpering sounds in her throat, her hips arching slightly. Oddly, it thrilled
him to know that no other man had known her intimately. Most likely, none had
pleasured her either. Her eyes begged him to ease her torment. Finally, she
broke, her body bucking of its own accord as a soft cry escaped her lips.