The knock sounded again.
''Camille, are you in there?"
Joy soared to life within her at the sound of his voice, and she ran to the door. He had returned to her.
With a trembling hand she threw the door open. Her rapturous smile died on her lips the moment she saw Charles's tense countenance. This was not a man who had come to make amends. This was not a man who had come to see the woman he loved…
Camille's gaze traced the strong planes of Charles's face, lingering on the troubled frown, the angry set of his chin, the firm lips that separated as he prepared to speak.
"Camille, I'm sorry to burst in on you like this. Marie tried to stop me, but I told her I had to see you. If you have someone waiting…"
Charles hesitated, and Camille felt a shudder of despair shake her. She forced a smile. "No, Charles, I have no one waiting. I am free for a few hours."
Relief flickered across Charles's face, but his smile was a poor imitation of his usual, warm grin. "It's kind of you to be so generous with your free time. I assure you I wouldn't bother you if it wasn't urgent."
Camille felt tears sting her eyes at Charles's formality, and she forced them back with great determination. He was using this aloof manner to keep distance between them. It caused her no end of pain despite the softness of her reply. "Are we not past 'kindnesses,' Charles? Surely, the time we have spent together assures us of that. Please know that I will always welcome you for whatever reason you visit me."
Stepping back in silent invitation, Camille waited until Charles had walked inside, then closed the door behind him. Not realizing her gaze all but consumed him, she questioned softly, "What is it that is so urgent, Charles?"
Charles looked concerned as his eyes moved over her face. "You're pale, Camille. Are you well? You look thinner."
"I… thinner?" She laughed softly. "There is, as there has always been, far too much of me on this womanly frame."
Charles did not laugh. "Too much of you?" He shook his head, his expression intensely serious. "There could never be too much."
Camille maintained her silence as Charles spoke again.
"I came to warn you, Camille."
"Warn me?"
"Harvey Dale visited me this morning."
Camille stiffened. "He brought you news of his beautiful daughter."
"No. He doesn't know where Devina is or how she is faring. That's part of the reason he is seeking to vent his frustration on me."
"On you, Charles! But why?"
"You know the story, Camille; everyone knows it. My brother, Ross, abducted Devina Dale. Harvey believes I had a part in it."
Camille shook her head, her distress deepening. "The man is a fool if he thinks you"
Charles interrupted Camille's response with the pure force of his anger. "The man is more than a fool, Camille. He is vicious and dishonest. A great many innocent people have suffered because of his dishonesty, and now he seeks to involve the innocent again to get back at me."
"The innocent?"
Charles took a deep breath. "He has been ineffective against me, Camille, so he is presently planning trouble for you."
"But why?"
"Because of our association."
Camille shook her head. "Did you not tell him that you… that we"
Charles took a step forward, then halted. "What I told him is of no consequence. His mind was made up and no threat would have changed his intent."
"Charles, what are you telling me?"
"I'm telling you to beware. The damned bastard is trying to stir people up against you. He wants to have you thrown out of town. He's going to"
Camille's laughter halted Charles's heated statement, and she spoke softly into the silence, "So Harvey Dale was responsible…"
Charles's face whitened. "Then I'm too late."
Camille shrugged her smooth white shoulders. "It is of little consequence."
The sudden flare of anger in Charles's eyes startled Camille even as Charles gripped her upper arms and gave her a small shake. "Little consequence? What did he do, Camille?"
"Do not upset yourself. It is nothing."
"Tell me!"
Camille's heart began to pound. She had never seen Charles so angry.
"Camille…?"
She attempted a smile. "Charles, it was nothing. A petition was delivered this morning. It was signed by the wives of many of my influential and wealthy clients." Her fair complexion colored lightly. "It stated many things, some true and some untrue. The petitioners seek to institute action against me."
Charles stiffened, his fury visible in his handsome face.
"No, Charles, the petition is unimportant. Pierre has taken care of everything."
Camille felt the shock of her words strike Charles's strong body. The intensity of his reaction confused her.
His hands dropped from her arms. "Pierre, of course."
Camille continued, "Pierre will return to Paris within the month, and I will return with him."
Charles replied softly, "France. That's what you want, Camille?"
Camille gave a small shrug. "I have been away from my country for a long time. I have completed the terms of my contract with Pierre. There is no longer any reason for me to stay in Tombstone."
"Of course. And Pierre is happy to have you return with him?"
"Yes. He feels I will be happier at home."
Charles's gaze burned hotly into her, and Camille struggled to keep up the pretense. She would not bind Charles to her with guilt. She loved him too much for that. She held his gaze determinedly with hers, concealing her despair as he questioned softly.
"And will you be happier at home, Camille?"
"Happier than I am now? Who knows, Charles? Who knows?"
Charles nodded, and Camille felt the last shreds of happiness slip away as he turned toward the door. He turned back, his eyes sweeping her face.
"That is what I wish for you, you know, Camille… happiness. I hope you find it."
"
Oui
. I wish the same for you, Charles."
Charles's lips tightened, and Camille longed to reach out and touch him, to stroke away his discomfort and distress. But he no longer wanted her consolation.
"If you ever need me, Camille."
"
Merci,
Charles."
Charles hesitated, intensely sober. "Good-bye, Camille."
"
Au
revoir
,
Charles."
The door closed, and Camille whispered into the pulsating emptiness which surrounded her,
"Au
revoir
,
mon
ami
."
Chapter XIX
From her reclining position on the bunk, Devina looked nervously toward the doorway of the cabin. Ross was nowhere in sight and she released a short, relieved breath. She would never have a better opportunity.
As quickly as her stiff muscles would allow, she swung her legs over the side of the bunk. She spared only the quickest glance for the yellowing bruise on her ankle and the puncture marks that were a silent reminder of her close escape from a fate she dared not contemplate. Her feet touched the cool wooden floor, and she allowed them to rest there for a few minutes as she steadied herself.
She cast another apprehensive glance toward the doorway. Myriad feelings assaulted her, increasing the confusion with which she had awakened. Only three days had passed since she had been bitten, but she hardly recognized herself as the person she had once been.
In her weakened state, she had found it so easy to accept Ross's tender ministrations and selfless concern. The memory of his strong body lying beside hers through the night, the rise of his passion hard against her, left little doubt as to his feelings, despite the fact that his earlier attentions had not gone beyond a few stirring kisses.
But with her returning strength had come a renewed awareness of reality and a rush of doubts about her encounter with Ross.
Who was the true Ross Morrison? Was he the cruel, relentless man filled with hate, determined to wreak vengeance on her father and his own brother at any cost? or was he the gentle, tender man who had loved her so completely, who ministered to her with endless patience and kindness, the man who was capable of stirring such deep, loving emotions within her?
Filled with a new determination, Devina cast another quick glance toward the open doorway and the brilliant sunlight beyond. She needed to get on her feet so she would be independent of him again, so she could stand back from the Ross Morrison who had made himself so indispensable to her and see him clearly. She could not suffer this confusion any longer.
With a supreme effort, Devina shifted her weight and pulled herself to her feet. Fighting the light-headedness that assailed her, she took one short step, then another. As strength began to return to her quaking limbs, she became aware that she was very thirsty. She looked toward the water bucket by the door.
A few more steps and Devina was steadying herself with the palm of her hand against the wall as she submerged the dipper into the cool water. She was raising it to her lips when the sound of a step startled her. The cold water splashed over her shirt as Ross's angry voice shattered the silence of the cabin.
"What are you doing out of bed?"
Not waiting for her response, Ross disposed of the dipper and scooped her up into his arms. With a few long strides he crossed the room and deposited her on the bunk.
"You haven't been on your feet for three days.
Dammit
, Devina, you could've fallen and hurt yourself."
Devina steeled herself against his concern as she sat up. "I'm all right. I can walk."
"You're not well enough to walk alone yet."
"I have to get back on my feet."
Ross paused, his face stiffening. "Why? You're not going anywhere."
Devina did not respond and Ross's features tightened further.
"You are feeling better, aren't you?"
Hardening herself against the assault of softer feelings, Devina attempted to rise. "I have to get up on my own."
Sitting down on the side of the bunk, Ross blocked her attempt, his dark eyes on her face. "Not yet, Devina. You'll hurt yourself Please."
The last of her resistance crumbling at Ross's softly voiced appeal, Devina met his eyes with an appeal of her own. "Ross, I can't be quiet and lie still anymore. There are too many unanswered questions on my mind. Who are you, Ross? Sometimes I look at you and I see a criminal Ross Morrison who kidnapped me. Other times I see another Ross who is more like his brother, Charles."
"Don't compare me with my brother."
Devina was startled into momentary silence by the hatred that flashed in Ross's dark eyes at the mention of his brother's name. Her voice was low with incredulity. "How can you hate him so… your own brother, a man who wears your face?"
Ross's gaze narrowed. "Wears my face? Is that the way you see Charles, Devina?"
The import of her own words startled Devina. The situation had reversed itself. Ross was now the dominant man in her mind, and Charles was merely the shadow figure, the man who resembled him. The thought struck her that it had been that way from the first, somehow, without her realization.
Not completely willing to accept that thought, Devina shook her head. "I don't want to discuss Charles with you, Ross."
His eyes hardening, Ross drew her closer. "I don't want to discuss Carter, either, Devina. It would be a waste of time. He'll never get you back."
Ross pulled her closer still. His lips brushed the line of her cheek and trailed along her jaw. A familiar weakness assailed Devina as she attempted a response.
"It was never like that between Charles and me, Ross. We…"
Ross's arms tightened possessively. His voice roughened. "There is no 'we' but you and me, Devina."
The warm heat inside Devina reacted to the growing passion in Ross's gaze. It enveloped her senses, holding her breathlessly still as the last of her resistance began slipping away. "Ross, there are so many things I want to know."
His dark gaze intense, Ross drew back with a husky whisper that touched her soul.
"The only thing you have to know is that you belong to me, Devina. You've belonged to me since the first moment I saw you, and no one is going to come between us now."
The last remnants of coherent thought slipped away as Ross claimed her mouth at last. Her questions and confusion disappeared as Devina's eyes fluttered closed, her lips parting to accept the joy of his sweet possession.
«» «» «» «» «» «» «» «» «» «» «» «»
Charles faced Harvey Dale across the narrow expanse of his office at Till-Dale Enterprises. Charles had arrived a few minutes before and he still could not quite believe the change in the man.
Aside from the marked deterioration in Dale's grooming in the short time since he had last seen him, and the fact that he looked as if he had slept in his clothes, Dale looked ill. His color was high, his peculiar squint indicated intense anxiety or pain, and his face was deeply lined. Charles's physician's eye told him this man was on the verge of collapse, and he marveled at the complexity of human nature which could allow him to experience a concern totally devoid of sympathy or regret.
Charles waved a dollar bill in front of Dale's face. "Here it is, Harvey, the purchase price of Bradford Morrison's claim. I'm paying it in my brother's name. The price is inadequate, I know, but you're not in a position to bargain, are you?"
Harvey Dale's stiff face twitched. "You and your brother have seen to that very well, haven't you? Well, I hope you'll keep in mind that although I'm presently standing with my back against the wall, I'm not accustomed to coming in on the losing side of business transactions. There will come a time for reckoning."
Charles's dark brows rose. "Strange, I thought that was exactly what was happening now."
Harvey Dale's facial spasms became more intense. "The papers for transfer of title to your father's mine are not yet ready."
Charles frowned. "I would suggest you hasten the legal procedures, Harvey. I don't pretend to know my brother well, but I'd say he's a very angry and determined man. I don't like to think what will happen to Devina if you"
"I've had enough of your threats!" Harvey's furious rasp broke into Charles's statement.
"And I've had enough of yours!" Charles struggled to regain his patience. How had he ever been taken in by this man? Mentally railing against his own stupidity, he continued in a lowered tone, "I've been speculating on the reason my brother involved me in this situation since the arrival of the ransom note. I assume it was his way of punishing me for what he considers my betrayal. My observations have brought me to the conclusion that you should take that note very seriously. There's a lot of hate inside my brother."
"I've done everything your brother instructed."
"Everything? Who are you trying to fool, Harvey? The paperwork on the claim can't be that complicated. I've just given you the figure that has to be transferred to my brother's account. I've checked it twice, and it's accurate to the dollar. I've paid the purchase price of the claim. There's no reason for any more delay."
Harvey Dale raised his chin with a touch of his old arrogance. "It's quite obvious you're entirely ignorant of legal matters. These things take time."
"You don't have time, Harvey."
Rounding his desk in a few angry strides, Dale came to stand eye to eye with Charles. He was visibly quaking, as he croaked in a low, uneven tone, "Don't worry, Carter. You can tell your brother he'll get his pound of flesh as soon as I can secure it legally for him. You can also tell him that if he touches a hair on Devina's head"
"You're wasting your threats on me, Harvey." Charles met Harvey Dale's pale eyes without flinching. "And I repeat, you don't have any time to spare."
Harvey Dale's chest was heaving with agitation, but Charles felt no pity. The hypocritical bastard was getting just what he deserved. Charles would have had no qualms about adding to his distress by telling him his efforts to get Camille thrown out of town had been pointless, since Camille had already been planning to leave, but he knew Dale would believe only what he wanted to believe.