Wild Roses (6 page)

“You've chained me now,” she said, fighting to keep the huskiness out of her voice. “You can get off me.” Ella prayed that the man could not sense how much she liked the provocative position they were in.

“I will in a moment,” he murmured as he leaned closer and touched his mouth to her soft, flushed cheek.

“Mr. Mahoney, I do not believe this is what my uncle hired you for.”

He just smiled. “Such a sharp tongue hidden inside this soft, sweet mouth.”

When he brushed his lips over hers she trembled, and inwardly cursed the weakness her body was so gleefully revealing. “I don't want this,” she said.

“Well, I could call you a liar, but that would be arrogant of me. And I'm not sure I really care what you want right now. That's wrong, I know, but I can't be right and honorable all the time. Right now I intend to steal something I have been thinking about far too much.”

Ella murmured a half-hearted protest as he covered her mouth with his. His kiss was gentle, almost tender, and she felt all of her weak resistance vanish. It was flattering to know that he had been thinking about kissing her. Comforting as well, for it meant that she was not alone in suffering an inappropriate attraction.

He teased her mouth with enticing, nibbling kisses, as if he savored the taste of her. When he shifted his body on top of hers, lightly rubbing against her, the feeling that shot through her was so strong it made her gasp. Harrigan took quick advantage of her parted lips, slipping his tongue between them and slowly stroking the sensitive inside of her mouth. The only clear thought Ella could grasp was that a mere kiss should not feel so good, firing her blood and making her heart pound so hard she could hear it.

She lifted her arms to wrap them around him and a soft clinking noise yanked her out of the passionate stupor his kiss had sent her into. Even as she opened her eyes to stare at the manacle enclosing her wrist, she felt Harrigan tense. He slid off her, lying down at her side, as if he knew the moment of desire they had been indulging in was about to come to an abrupt end. Ella was not sure it was such a good thing that he could sense her change of mood so accurately.

“You are a complete cad,” she said, a little surprised at how amiable she sounded.

“I know,” he replied with an equal calm. “It is the cross I must bear.”

Harrigan breathed an inner sigh of relief. It appeared that Ella was not going to be outraged or furious, both of which she deserved to be. That seemed to confirm his opinion that she had suffered from the same curiosity he had.

What he would really like to know now was if she had experienced any of the same feelings he had, but he doubted she would answer truthfully even if he had the courage to ask. He was also not sure he wanted to have that discussion, for he could inadvertently reveal some of what was deeply troubling him at the moment. That sweet, short kiss had sent him reeling. He had never wanted a woman so swiftly or so strongly before. Harrigan had been confident that it would be good, and it had been, dangerously so.

She had shared his passion. He was sure of that. He had felt it in her every breath and the way her body had welcomed the weight of his. It was hard not to see the promise of more in her response and he desperately wanted more. A small voice in his head told him he would be a scoundrel to try and take more when he had every intention of completing the job he had been hired for, but he forcefully silenced it. Harrigan had never wanted anything as bad as he wanted Ella Carson and he suspected he never would again. Right or wrong, he was going to try for a fuller taste of the sweet passion she held in every tiny, delicate inch of her.

“If you have quite finished mauling me,” Ella said, forcing her eyes shut and wishing she could turn her back on him but restricted by the manacle, “I believe I will go to sleep now.”

His soft laughter caused her to grit her teeth and she clenched her hands beneath the coarse blanket covering them. Ella decided it had been foolish to think she could make him think she had been disgusted by the kiss. Any man who looked like Harrigan Mahoney had to be experienced with women. He probably knew exactly what she had been feeling, or most of it.

Ella inwardly sighed. It had seemed such an innocent, only slightly naughty thing to do. She had thought about kissing him so often that the opportunity to satisfy her curiosity had been too tempting to resist. There was no question that she had completely satisfied her curiosity, but she had opened a whole new bag of troubles.

Although she was still a virgin, she was not totally innocent of what could occur between a man and a woman. Louise had felt it was important for women to know such things, if only so they could know what pitfalls to avoid. Ella had a feeling that she had just plummeted down a very deep pitfall.

She could still feel the warmth of his mouth on hers. Her lips still tingled softly and there was a gentle ache deep inside of her, an ache that grew stronger each time she recalled the feel of his body against hers. Ella knew that she wanted Harrigan, fiercely desired him. Lying by his side, she found herself recalling all Louise had told her and imagining Harrigan doing such things to her.

As subtlely as she could, Ella took several slow, deep breaths in an attempt to clear such thoughts from her mind. Harrigan was working for Harold and she would be an idiot to forget that. To give into her desires would be both foolish and dangerous. Every instinct told her that she would be opening herself up to a great deal of pain.

For a moment she tried to argue what her heart and mind told her. Because she had run away and was living with Louise and a dozen young, unmarried men on a ranch in what most people considered the wilderness, she had already been marked as
soiled
. Since she was already accused and condemned of the crime, why not commit it? She knew, without a doubt, that making love with Harrigan would be an experience she might never have again. A passion that siezed one so swiftly and so strongly had to be special. Surely she had a right to grasp at such pleasure? Who would it hurt?

Even as she asked herself that question, her heart loudly answered it. She knew she could not simply take the pleasure she craved and leave. The reason she felt such desire for Harrigan was because she cared for him. Ella suspected that she could easily love him. Becoming his lover would probably cinch it. And that, she thought sadly, would be disastrous for her.

Opening one eye, she cautiously studied him. He was a man any woman would desire. Ella dearly wished she was one of those women who could climb into his bed, take all she needed and wanted, and just walk away, but she knew she could never be like that. With her body would go her heart and Harrigan did not want that. She had no doubt that he desired her and would willingly take her as his lover, but that was all he would do. Her passion would be fed for a little while, but nothing else, and she suspected she would be left very hungry when he walked away.

And he would walk away, she reminded herself, right after he left her in Harold's deadly hands. It was now even more important that she remember that Harrigan Mahoney was Harold's man. For a while she could probably make herself forget that, even hope it would change and that Harrigan would start to believe her, but that would be naive. Ella knew it would cut her deeply if she was his lover, even for just a little while, but never had his love. But to be held in his arms one night and handed over to Harold in the morning could easily destroy her.

Ella stared up at the star-crowded sky and prayed. She prayed that her aunt would recover in time to save her. She prayed that something fatal would happen to Harold before he could get ahold of her. But mostly she prayed that she had the strength to keep resisting Harrigan Mahoney.

It was very hard for Ella to resist the urge to kick at the door which connected the two rooms Harrigan had rented for the night. When Harrigan had announced that they would spend the night in a hotel, she had been delighted. She was chagrined to admit that an opportunity for escape had not been the first thing on her mind. The promise of a soft bed, a hot bath, and some time alone had been all that she could think of. Although they had spent only one night on the trail, she had not had a chance to clean up before he had captured her for the second time. The quick wash and change by the creek had not really been enough.

Harrigan had rapidly spoiled all of her plans, she thought sourly. She was stuck in a room with him, George occupying the second room. She would indeed get to sleep on a soft bed, but he would be right beside her. There was still the opportunity for the hot bath she craved, but it would not be the long, luxurious soak she had envisioned. Harrigan would never leave her alone for that long. The man had no sense of propriety.

“I believe I'll order your bath now,” Harrigan said, eyeing her a little warily. ”Perhaps that will sweeten your temper.”

“My temper might improve if, on your way down to the front desk, you trip over your big feet, fall down the stairs, and break your thick neck,” she said in a sweet voice as she rose from the chair she had flung herself into the moment they had entered the room.

The smile that had started to curve Harrigan's mouth faded abruptly when Ella stood in front of the cracked dresser mirror and began to undo her hair. For one brief moment he wondered if she was purposely trying to tempt him. She had to know that he wanted her and could easily be trying to use that weakness against him. It was a fleeting suspicion. The way she was brushing her long, glorious hair was indeed stirring his blood, but the cold, angry look on her face did not hold any hint of invitation. If she was trying to trick him through seduction, she would at least try to look coy. The expression on her face at the moment would warn even the stupidest man that he would be risking life and limb if he tried to touch her.

“I'll have your bath sent up,” he said as he opened the door. ”You'll have one hour.”

“You are actually going to leave me alone? To show some respect for my privacy?”

He ignored the derision in her voice. “You will be alone within this room,” he replied as he left.

Ella frowned and stared at the door after he shut it behind him. It took her a minute to understand what he had meant, then she cursed and slammed her hairbrush down on the dresser. He had told her quite clearly that he would have every exit watched. It was going to be very hard to escape if he kept guessing her plans even before she made any. Somehow she was going to have to lull him into a false sense of security. That was going to be very hard and not simply because of her own hot temper. Harrigan did not trust her as far as he could spit.

She started to set out what she would need for her bath, thinking of and discarding a hundred different ways to escape. It began to give her a throbbing headache. Ella fought the urge to just give up, to wait until she got to Philadelphia before she even tried to escape. She had slipped free of Harold before and could probably do so again. Shaking her head, she pushed aside that thought. It would not be wise to wait until the last minute to break free. Ella knew she could not allow her confidence to wane, that she had to keep believing that, somehow, she would escape. Harrigan Mahoney would not win this game.

 

 

Harrigan leaned against the rough clapboards covering the outside of the hotel, lit a cigar, and watched the people on the street. When he realized he was looking for Louise Carson or one of her boys, he cursed. He did not want to think that Louise was that good, but it was obvious that some part of him did. If nothing else, the woman was certainly determined.

“Shouldn't we be watching Miss Ella more carefully?” George asked as he leaned against the wall next to Harrigan and accepted a cigar.

“Those boys we hired will keep a close watch on the doors and the windows. I paid them well and promised a handsome bonus if they actually stopped her from escaping.”

“They might find her very pretty, prettier than money.”

“Not these boys. I picked hungry ones, ones who might indeed think Ella's pretty first, but then they will turn her over to me. Besides, I don't really think she will try to escape this time. I more or less told her that all exits would be watched before I left her to her bath. She is also very tired. My guess is that, this time, she will just take her bath, cursing me all the while. Ella will decide to take advantage of the comforts the room offers and return to her attempts to escape only after she has had a good night's rest.”

“Which would give us a pleasant respite.” George took a puff on his cigar, then asked quietly, “Are you sure it's wise for you to share a room with her?”

“If we leave her alone in her room, we won't get any rest.”

“You could just manacle her to the bed.”

“I could, but I don't think that will work. Those boys didn't get the key from me when they boarded the train to get Ella back, yet she was freed from the manacles and they weren't broken. I think little Miss Ella knows how to pick a lock.”

George stared at Harrigan for a moment, then laughed and shook his head. “Harold Carson is definitely going to have to pay us more.” He quickly grew serious, staring blindly at his boot tips before tentatively saying, “I still think we ought to consider what she says more seriously. I believe Harold Carson is cold enough and avaricious enough to commit any crime. Even murder.”

Harrigan sighed, tossed the stub of his cigar onto the muddy road, and ground it beneath his boot heel. “I begin to think he might be as well. However, I still believe that all of the answers are in Philadelphia and it does us no good to speculate on who is telling us the truth. We can only get the answers we need back home, not here, and certainly not from Miss Ella Carson.”

“But when we return home, we must hand Miss Carson over to Harold. If she's telling the truth, we could become partners in a murder.”

The mere thought of that made Harrigan's blood run cold, but he told himself that it was a natural reaction. He was no killer and he certainly did not want to help Harold Carson kill his niece. If all Ella told him was true, it was greed that would cost her her life, the same sort of greed that had cost him his family's business.

“Harold would never kill her openly,” Harrigan said, confident in his opinion. “If he does plan to murder her, he will do so deceitfully and cleverly, making damn sure that no one can ever blame him for her death. That sort of planning takes time. We will have the time we need to sort out what is the truth.”

“I hope you won't object if I continue to keep a close watch on her until you find that truth.”

“Just don't let Carson know you're watching her or, rather, him. Don't forget that she could be lying through her fine white teeth. We can't afford to anger a man like Harold Carson. He could destroy us and I really don't want to have to rebuild my life for a third time.”

“Understood,” George said, staring down the road as he finished his cigar.

“Louise isn't lurking out there. I already looked.” Harrigan laughed at the disgusted look George gave him.

“The woman has a determined nature.”

“Very. Why do you think I looked? Well, I'm going back to the room. I told Ella she had an hour and I've given her more than that.” He handed George some money. “Pay the lads, get one or two of them to do the night watch for us, and then have some food sent up to our room, please.”

Harrigan found himself approaching the door of the room with some caution a few minutes later, and muttered a curse. Ella Carson was a tiny, green-eyed girl. She did have spirit and more wit than some men thought healthy in a woman. Nevertheless, he should not be approaching her as if she was some hulking killer. This job was getting harder every day, he decided as he unlocked the door.

Ella took a deep breath to steady herself when she heard the key turn in the lock. She had managed to keep hold of the big metal jug brought up with her bath so that she could rinse her hair. It was not very heavy, the metal thin and already dented, and she doubted that it would knock Harrigan out, but she had found nothing else to use. She was not confident that she would get very far, either, but saw no harm in trying. If nothing else, it was going to really annoy Harrigan and that made it worth the effort.

As the door opened, Ella flattened herself against the wall. Harrigan stepped in, frowned, and looked around. Even as he turned his head toward her, she swung the jug as hard as she could, wincing a little when it thudded against the back of his head. He stumbled forward a few steps, clearing the doorway, and fell to his knees, clutching his head and swearing colorfully. Ella grabbed her bag and lunged out the door. There was one brief, heady moment when she felt the sweet thrill of success then a strong hand wrapped itself tightly around her ankle and pulled.

A curse escaped as she barely stopped herself from landing flat on her face on the hard wood floor. She twisted around to see Harrigan lying flat on the floor and reaching for her other ankle. Muttering another curse, she kicked out at him, hitting him square in the face. When she tried to kick him again he caught her by her free ankle, pinning her to the floor. Despite all of her attempts to inflict further injury with her fists and her bag, he finally won their wrestling match, holding her down by straddling her body and holding her wrists almost painfully against the wide plank floor. She looked into his face and inwardly grimaced. He looked a great deal more than annoyed.

“Damn it, woman, that hurt,” he snapped, keeping a firm grip on her arm as he stood up and pulled her to her feet.

“It was supposed to, fool! Actually, it was supposed to knock you out cold. That was my plan, but I couldn't find anything heavy enough to make a dent in that thick skull of yours.”

He pushed her back into the room, watching her closely as he locked the door and shoved the key in his pocket. The next time he felt reluctant to enter a room she was in, he would listen to the warning his instincts were trying to send him. As he glanced in the mirror to make sure that he was not bleeding, he inwardly confessed to some surprise that she would physically attack him. It was possible that he had allowed her delicate appearance to lull him into a false sense of safety from attack. It was clearly an error in judgement and one he did not intend to repeat.

“Don't worry,” she drawled as she sat down in a chair near the window. “I didn't mar your pretty face.”

“Not for want of trying,” he said as he took off his coat and hung it over the back of the chair next to the dresser. “This town is not that big. Just where did you think you would go?”

“Back to Wyoming.” When he sat down in the other chair by the window, she glared at him across the table set between them.

“Know the way, do you? Or did you just plan to head west until you bumped into it?” He picked up the heavy crystal decanter on the table and poured each of them a glass of the brandy he had ordered it filled with. “Go on, drink it,” he said, nudging the glass toward her. ”Although I might wish it, one small brandy will not make you senseless. Didn't you learn to have a drink before the evening meal?”

“Aunt Louise prefers wine or whiskey. Joshua has been trying to get her to drink some tequila, but he hasn't succeeded yet.”

Ella was not sure she ought to trust in his pleasant demeanor. She had just hit him on the head and kicked him in the face. He ought to be spitting nails, but the anger he had expressed as he had pinned her to the hall floor appeared to be gone. She wondered if he was trying to make her feel safe and relax, at which time he would strike. Ella sipped at her brandy and decided that she would keep a very close eye on him no matter how friendly he acted.

The meal was delivered and they were halfway through it when Ella realized she was not holding to her decision very well. She had to keep catching herself, reminding herself that this was not some social event. It was rapidly becoming clear to her that Harrigan Mahoney was a very dangerous man when he decided to be cordial and charming. He was now playing a game she was not really equipped to play.

“What game are you playing now?” she demanded the moment she ate the last bite of her meal.

Harrigan took a sip of his brandy to hide his smile. He had not really thought that he would get far with sweet talk, flattery, and smiles, but it had been worth a try. It had also been fun to watch her bounce from wary to cheerful and unsuspecting and back again. She had not stayed lulled by charm for very long.

One thing did trouble him and that was how much he had enjoyed it when she was at ease. It had been delightful to hear her wit used for more than insulting and threatening him. With her face softened by laughter and interest, she was enchantingly lovely. He wanted her so badly he ached. Harrigan hoped that need did not show in his face. He suspected that she would run as far and as fast as she could if she guessed what he was feeling.

“Game?” he asked, struggling to look innocent and slightly confused. “What game?”

“All this pleasantness, the smiles, and the charming conversation.”

“You found that troubling? I was always told that good conversation is a must over dinner. Acrimony can trouble one's digestion.”

“Of course, and we wouldn't want you to suffer a bad tum-tum, would we?”

“Why do you find my good humor suspicious?”

“Perhaps because I just hit you over the head and kicked you in the face? Your temper cooled rather quickly. One moment you're breathing fire, the next you're smiling and offering me brandy. If I behaved like this, you would certainly be eyeing me warily. If you think to woo me into placidly following you to Philadelphia, you waste your time. Even your Irish charm is not enough to convince me to put my neck in Harold's noose.”