California Caress (27 page)

“Probably for the same reason you refuse to talk about your family. Some things aren’t worth rehashing.”

Hope stiffened. She tried to pull away, but the arm encircling her shoulders wouldn’t let her. “That’s different,” she replied flatly, firmly squelching her tumultuous emotions. “You already know about my family. I don’t know anything about yours.”

“Not much to tell,” he shrugged. “The ones I cared about are dead. The ones I don’t give a damn about, aren’t. Isn’t that the way life usually works?”

“Charles and Angelique,” Hope muttered miserably. Suddenly, she was sorry she’d broached the subject. Already, she could feel Drake pulling away from her. Maybe not physically, but mentally he was withdrawing, throwing up his all-too-familiar wall of defense. “Look, if you’d rather not talk about—“

“What do you want to know, Hope?” he asked, his voice as devoid of sincerity as his suddenly leery gaze.

“Whatever you want to tell me.”

Drake was quiet for so long that, at first, she thought he’d fallen asleep. The rise and fall of his chest beneath her palms was slow and even. Long golden lashes flickered against his tanned cheek.

“My grandfather was a champion of medieval history,” he said finally, his emotionless voice and his words taking her by surprise. “He had an entire library of books devoted to the subject, as well as an authentic suit of armor gracing the main hall, and hand-worked tapestries on the wall. He was also a master with a lute. In the summer, to celebrate my birthday, he would stage a miniature jousting match on our front lawn. I think it’d be impossible to be reared in a house with a fanatic like Thomas Frazier and not have some of his interests rub off.”

“You lived with your grandparents, then?" She frowned. “Hmmm. What about your parents? Did they live there, too?”

“They died when Chuck and I were small. I barely remember them. As for my grandmother, well, I never knew her at all. She died when my mother was heavy with me. I heard she was a good woman, though. Well liked, well respected.”

Hope averted her gaze to the fire. A pang of guilt pricked at her heart as she remembered her accusation that a man like Drake Frazier had never known what it was like to lose someone he loved. He
had
loved, and he had lost. Perhaps they were not so different after all.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered softly. “I didn’t know.” She ran her fingers lightly over the stubble shadowing his jaw. Gently, his fingers wrapped around her wrist, drawing her arm up until the inside of her forearm brushed against his cheek.

“Nothing to be sorry about.” He turned his face to the side and planted a kiss on the pulse that throbbed in her wrist. “When I think about it, I’d have to say that I’m glad my parents died when they did. This way, they were spared the heartbreak of seeing the monster their son became.”

Hope’s fingers twisted his hair as she turned his head forcefully toward her. “Open your eyes and look at me, gunslinger.” The thick fringe of golden lashes flickered up and she was instantly captured by his sea-green gaze. Hope thought that she would gladly drown in those haunting pools. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Drake. You’re not so bad.”

A rush of air left his nostrils. It might have been a derisive chuckle. Then again, it might not. “I wasn’t referring to myself, sunshine. I was talking about Charles.”

“You really hate him, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” he replied wearily, “I hate him. Obviously, the feeling is mutual. Tubbs is proof enough of that.”

When Drake didn’t elaborate further, Hope deemed it wise not to push the subject. Instead, she changed it. Slipping her arm from his hand she asked, “Why’d you come to California? I mean, Thirsty Gulch seems like a long way to go just to get away from your brother.”

“Gold,” he answered simply. Although his eyelids had snapped shut again, one light eyebrow was cocked high in his sun-kissed brow. “What brought you?”

“Gold.” She lapsed into thoughtful silence as her gaze strayed to the raindrops lapping at the window. A shiver touched her shoulders, and Drake’s arm instinctively pulled her closer. Sighing, she let her gaze rove his profile. “Drake?
Drake.
Don’t you dare fall asleep on me now. I have a question to ask you. Wake up, damn it.”

“Hmmm?” he murmured, stifling a yawn.

“You never said where we’re heading,” she said, shaking his shoulder before he could fall asleep again. “Tell me. I want to know where you’re taking me.”

“Boston,” he answered, his voice slurred with exhaustion. “We’re going to Boston.”

Her eyes widened in alarm. “Boston!? I don’t want to go to Boston! I want to go to Virginia.” She gave his shoulder another shake. “Did you hear me, Frazier? I said I want to go to Virginia. I want to go home.”

“The horses probably heard you, Hope.” He heaved a heavy sigh and slowly pried his eyelids open. “Aren’t you the one who insisted on returning to the gold mines? What happened? You seemed pretty determined.”

“That was weeks ago, and I changed my mind. I want to go home.”

“Fine,” he muttered with a shake of his head. “But it’ll have to wait. I have business to take care of in Boston first. I promise, when everything’s been taken care of there, I’ll take you wherever you want to go. Virginia, London, hell, I’ll even take you to Russia if you want.”

“I don’t want to go to Russia,” she replied absently, as her thumb grazed the prickly softness of his jaw. “Drake, now that Tubbs is dead, what are you going to do about Charles?” she asked cautiously. Her hand slipped down his neck, over the throbbing hollow in his throat, and down to the firm pillow of his chest. She tugged at a few wispy chest hairs to keep him awake.

Drake swatted her hand away. His green eyes narrowed as he looked at her. He opened his mouth to say something, then quickly snapped it shut again. Frowning, he took a deep breath, pursed his lips, and said finally, “That depends on you.”

“Me? Why? I haven’t got anything to do with this.”

“It’s a long, complicated story, sunshine,” he sighed, raking back the golden curls falling over his brow. He’d been hoping she would simply agree to help, no matter what the terms. He should have known Hope Bennett’s intense curiosity would never allow that.

Hope squinted into the flickering shadows, lingering on his tired profile. She wavered between the urge to reach out and stroke that sharp cheek, and the need to know as much about this man as he was willing to confide. In the end, the latter won out. “We’ve got all night. God knows, I’m not going anywhere.”

Drake nodded. His eyes clouded with thought as he averted his gaze to the fire. “You know, there was a time not too long ago when the only thing that kept me going from one mining town to the next was knowing that, one day, I’d get back everything that was rightfully mine. At the time, I wasn’t sure how I’d go about it. California gave me the answer.”

She gave in to the temptation in her fingers and reached out to caress that hardened cheek. When Drake seemed not to notice the contact, she let her hand drop back to his chest. “I don’t know, it seems to me like a long way to go for revenge.”

He shrugged. “Maybe, but Boston was too close. I was too well known, and everyone for miles knew how my grandfather had overlooked me in his will, leaving everything to Chuck. So I left. I didn’t know where I’d end up and I didn’t care.” His voice thickened with bitter memories. “As long as I had a bottle in front of me, I was happy. After six months, ten gunfights, and innumerable hangovers, I realized that about the only thing constant inebriation was going to get me was an early grave. It damn well wasn’t going to get my business back. I’d worked my way to somewhere in Ohio, I think, when I started hearing rumors about gold. In one of my more lucid moments I thought, ‘What the hell, California would be as good a place to pick up my life as any.’ At least I still had enough sense to know I couldn’t be worse off than I already was.”

Hope scowled. “So you traipsed all the way across the country for gold, but had no intention of staking a claim? I don’t see how you thought that would win your business back.”

“I planned to work the mines,” he said, placing his warm palm over hers. She could feel his heart drumming steadily beneath her fingertips. “I went with the same aspirations every other young man traveling to the gold mines had. The lure of a quick fortune is heady stuff, sunshine. Not many men can resist it. My resolve got me to San Francisco, but the second my feet hit the dirt, I stumbled into the first saloon I found. It didn’t take long to find out I could make more money off the gambling prospectors than I could swinging a pick or swirling a pan.” He shifted, his eyes darkening thoughtfully as he met her gaze. “Think about it, Hope. I would have been damn foolish to trade in my deck of cards for a canvas tent and shovel. In one day, I could haul in twice what the miners dug from the ground, with only half the effort.” A crooked grin twisted his lips. “I like to think of it as utilizing the abilities I have, but since you worked a pan yourself, I’m sure you think I took the lazy man’s way out.”

“I didn’t say that,” she hedged. Sighing, she looked guiltily away. “I just don’t see where gambling and shooting could be less dangerous than mining the land.”

“Gambling,” Drake corrected gently. “The only time I used my gun in California was to save my miserable hide.” The sly, lopsided grin twisted his lips. “That was one nice thing about my drunken trek from coast to coast. My reputation may have been exaggerated, but it was well earned. Most men with half a grain of sense were smart enough to steer clear. They’d meet me across a gaming table, maybe share a glass or two, but that was
all
they’d have to do with me.”

“Sounds lonely,” Hope mused, tracing her fingertips down the thick pelt of curling hairs on his chest, over the rippling flesh of his tight stomach.

The brazenly inquisitive fingers made Drake suck in his breath. He slipped his hand over hers and pulled her fingers to his mouth. His lips were warm, his breath hot against her flesh. The stubble of whiskers coating his jaw scratched her open palm. The sensation held its own form of sensual appeal. With a ragged sigh, he plopped the hand back on his chest. While even that simple touch was distracting, his reaction to the contact wasn’t nearly as dramatic as when she was boldly stroking flesh.

“My solitude was self-imposed,” he continued, his voice a little more hoarse than before. “If anything, I enjoyed it. When I wasn’t playing cards, I had plenty of time to plot my revenge against Charles and Angelique. By then, two and a half years had slipped by. I suppose my desire for vengeance should have tapered off, mellowed, but it didn’t; it grew. Their betrayal ate at me night and day, like a festering wound that refused to heal. I couldn’t rest. Not until they’d paid for their deception, and I’d gotten back the company before my brother’s squandering ways ran it into the ground. Before I knew it, I not only had a plan, but I also had enough money to back it.”

“And then?” she asked softly.

“And then I met you.” The arm around her shoulder tightened. “I’m close now, sunshine. So close I can taste it.”

Hope squirmed, and Drake immediately loosened his grip. “I don’t see what any of this has to do with me. I don’t have influential friends in Boston, or anywhere else for that matter. And no money. I’m afraid I wouldn’t be too much help.”

“Not in that way, true,” he said, scratching his jaw thoughtfully. “But you have grace, elegance, and a beauty most women only dream of.”

Hope wasn’t entirely sure she believed his sweet words, but she let it pass. A dark eyebrow cocked high in her forehead. “So?”

His fingertips tapped the pert turn of her nose. “So, I have a proposition for you.”

“A proposition?” She stiffened, her dark eyes shimmering with suspicion. “What kind of proposition?”

“How much money would it take to pay the back taxes on your place in Virginia and rebuild your house?”

“I don’t know,” she stated flatly, her eyes narrow and cautious, “but it would be a lot. The house was completely destroyed, and no matter how hard I worked, it would take more than myself to get the fields cultivated again. All the servants we had were sold to pay what we could. A few stayed after we left, but I guess they’ve probably moved on by now.”

“How much?”

She settled on the most outrageous sum that sprang to mind. “Ten thousand dollars.”

Drake gave a low whistle and pulled a reluctant Hope back to his side when she tried to move away. “And what would you be willing to do to get your land back, sunshine? How far would you be willing to go?”

“I wouldn’t do anything illegal, if that’s what you mean,” she said tersely. “I’d rather work and earn the money. At least that way I’d have the satisfaction of knowing I rebuilt everything myself.”

A low, mirthless chuckle rumbled in his throat. “Do you have any idea how long it would take you to earn that kind of money? Don’t forget, you’d have to pay your living expenses while you’re working. That in itself can mean major expenditures. Even if you could get a job that pays—and there aren’t too many around for a woman—it could take you damn near the rest of your life to save ten thousand dollars.”

“I know that. What are you getting at?”

“You hired me once. Now I want to hire you. It’s a job, strictly business, of course.”

Hope clutched the bedroll to her chest and sat up. Suddenly, the feel of his warm, supple flesh pressing intimately against her was a distraction she couldn’t afford. “To do what?”

“To be my wife.”

“You want to marry me?” she gasped, her dark eyes widening in surprise.

“No,” he said, his voice completely devoid of emotion. He was watching her closely, gauging each emotion as it flickered across her finely honed features. “I want to hire you to
pretend
you’re my wife. I want you to come with me to Boston and play the part of the devoted wife to the hilt. If you do your job well, when I’m done with my brother and his wife I’ll personally return you to Virginia and buy back your estate, lock, stock and barrel.” His gaze darkened. “What you do with the rest of your life is your concern. I won’t interfere.”