Love and Glory: The Coltrane Saga, Book 3 (22 page)

She whirled around and left quietly. Jerome leaned back in his chair, chewing on the tip of a pencil. No, he didn’t think Nancy had killed Kitty. He
knew
she hadn’t. He had slipped back that night and listened and watched. He knew all about Luke Tate taking Kitty away, paid to do so by Nancy.

Jerome thought of Travis Coltrane. He despised the man. And he thought of Kitty, of how much he loved her. What had happened to her these past months? From what he knew of Luke Tate, the man had probably turned Kitty’s life into a hell.

Suddenly Jerome Danton did not like himself very much. In fact, he realized as he got up from his chair and limped to the window, he did not like himself at all.

But what could he do? he asked himself. Nothing at all, nothing to make up for all the terrible things he had done.

Except, his eyes widened at the thought, he could do something for Kitty. Perhaps a good deed, for the first time in his life, would ease some of the misery he was feeling. If he told Travis what he knew, perhaps he could track down Luke and Kitty.

But did he dare?

Chapter Eleven

Nancy Danton sat before the oval gilt-edged mirror in her boudoir, staring pensively at her reflection.

She was not, she thought with a satisfied smile, unattractive. Her chestnut-brown hair glimmered with golden highlights and looked quite appealing brushed down around her shoulders. She also liked her eyes, the color of ginger and edged with thick lashes that she knew how to lower and flutter seductively.

Expensive oils and creams kept her skin smooth.

She wore a yellow silk dressing gown and reached to tug at the ribbon which held it together, allowing it to fall open and expose her breasts. Cupping them in her hands, she stared down. They were not quite as large and voluptuous as she would have liked, but they were, she mused, satisfactory.

She pulled her gown together once more, gloating in the fact that her entire body was still firm and flawless. She had no marks from childbearing, thanks to the skilled, however unethical doctor in Raleigh who had on three occasions rid her of babies she refused to have. Her nose wrinkled in disdain. The
last
thing she wanted was a whining, groping child nuzzling at her breast.

She met the mischievous reflection of her eyes, saw the warm lust there. She wanted Travis Coltrane at her breast.

She wanted Travis. Oh, yes, she wanted him with desperation. No matter that he had scorned her publicly, though no one else had heard his angry taunts. No matter that he had not come near her since marrying that damned Kitty. He was the one man she wanted to take her, possess her, ravish her.

And she was going to have him.

With fierce determination igniting her, Nancy arose from the velvet bench and strode quickly to her closet, flinging open the doors. The closet was filled with elegant gowns of every imaginable design and color. Perhaps marriage to Jerome was suffocatingly boring, she thought, but at least he was rich and able to give her anything she wanted, and she wanted a lot.

She chose a green watered silk with a deeply plunging neckline. A matching fringed shawl would cover her until she wanted to expose her cleavage, but the main reason she chose this costume was the skirt. It was a latest creation from Paris and required no bulky hoop. Several lace petticoats would provide the necessary fullness.

As she dressed, she recalled the gossip she had heard about Travis since his return. Of course, she dared ask no questions, feigning disgust whenever his name was mentioned. But the women in Goldsboro were quite taken with his feral good looks, and he was the object of much curiosity and speculation. All Nancy had to do was listen, and she was able to keep up with his every move.

He was, they were saying, ensconced in a hotel room drowning his grief in whiskey. She also knew that that scruffy Sam Bucher had returned and was trying to sober him up.

Soon, she figured, he would move on at the urgings of Sam. A man like Travis Coltrane was not about to hang around a place he made no secret of despising. That was fine. Let him leave. It was too disturbing to have him around and not be able to have him anytime she pleased. But, and a new wave of longing washed over her, she would have him one more time.

She made her way through the elegantly furnished house and down the winding stairway to the foyer. The servants had retired for the night, following her instruction. She left by the back door, keeping to the shadows so as not to be seen. The hotel was five blocks away, but she was able to cover the distance without encountering anyone.

She paused outside the rear of the building, listening to the raucous sounds from the saloon in front. It had cost her a small sum to seal the lips of the man she had instructed to learn Travis’ room number, so after glancing around one last time to make sure no one was watching, she was able to go inside and move directly up the back stairs, knowing exactly where she was going.

The hallway smelled of urine and whiskey, and she wrinkled her nose in distaste. There was little light from the kerosene lantern that hung from the ceiling. All was quiet, and she tiptoed across the faded carpet to stand outside Room 14, pressing her ear against the door. Hearing no sounds, she smiled to herself. If he was in there, he was alone.

She lifted her hand and knocked softly. There was no answer, and she frowned and knocked louder, glancing around anxiously.

“Yeah, who is?” came the annoyed voice.

She knocked again.

He boomed out, “Who the hell is it?”

She knocked in soft, insistent little raps.

Finally she heard, “Oh, hell, wait a minute.” There were sounds of movement within, footsteps clumping across the floor, the lock turning.

The door swung open, and she caught sight of his raised eyebrows as she scurried inside, slamming the door herself and leaning back against it to smile up at him. “Hello, Travis,” she whispered huskily. “I thought you might be lonely.”

“Not for you.”

He tried to reach around her to open the door, but she stepped forward and threw her arms around his neck, letting her shawl fall from her shoulders, pressing her bosom hard against his bare chest “It was good for us, Travis,” she said quickly. “You know it was always good. I’m just what you need.”

“Nancy, you’re the last person I need.” He reached for her arms and yanked them down. “Now just get out of here before you get us both in trouble.”

She stepped back, eyes moving over his body. He wore only tight denim pants, and her fingers ached to dance through the thick mat of hair on his chest that tapered down to what she wanted the most. Boldly, she reached out and clutched him between his legs and caressed him gently, feeling the instant arousal. “See?” she teased. “I know you want me.”

“Nancy, stop.”

She stepped back once more and, with deft fingers, unfastened her dress and let it fall to her ankles.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He weaved slightly as he watched her. He had been drinking, but he didn’t seem drunk.

Quickly, she was naked. With a little curtsey, she ran to the bed and threw herself upon it. Lying on her back, she spread her legs and held out her arms to him. “Now then, can you ask me to leave, Travis Coltrane? Or would you like to come over here and do what you do best?”

Cursing himself, he moved toward the bed. Hell, he might as well go ahead and take what she was offering so freely. There was no getting around the fact that she was pretty good in bed, and it had been a long time, and damn it, he was, after all, only a man.

When he stood beside the bed, she reached out and pulled him down. Their lips met and held, and then he raised back to stare down at her and murmur, “You know I think you’re a bitch, Nancy. So why do you come here and offer yourself to me this way?”

She tilted her head to one side and laughed. “I think you’re a bastard, Travis, but you’re still the best man I’ve ever had. We don’t have to be friends to be lovers, do we?”

“No,” he laughed, shaking his head in wonder at her candor. “I don’t guess we do. But you’re still a bitch.”

“And you’re still a bastard. Now come here and love me.” She grasped his swollen organ and gently tugged. “God, you’re built like a bull.”

It was going to be quick, he decided. Animal desire was all he felt for her, and the sooner he got his pleasure, the better. He did not want to kiss her again, only to get it over with and have her out of there as soon as possible. He positioned her legs and plunged right in, feeling her nails raking down his back, her moans of pleasure hot against her ear. “Travis, oh, God, Travis, you feel so good…so damn good. Harder…harder!”

He moved in and out, thrusting hard and quick. He felt himself about to explode but held back long enough to feel her quivering against him, knew that she was rising to her own crest. Only then did he allow his release.

Afterward, he fell to the side of her, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling, wishing he had not been so damn weak. At least, he consoled himself, he had not taken her selfishly.

He shuddered involuntarily as Nancy rolled on her side and tucked her head on his shoulder, fingertips moving through the hair on his chest. “That was so wonderful,” she cooed. “It always is. Oh, Travis, why do we have to fight? We could be so good together.”

“I’m sure your husband would love that,” he bit out the words. “Not to mention my wife.”

“You don’t have a wife right now,” she pointed out.

He stiffened. “If I did, this wouldn’t have happened. You can believe that. So don’t start seeing things that don’t exist. You came up here and took your clothes off and offered yourself to me. I was just hungry enough not to turn you down.”

“But it doesn’t have to be this way. I mean, we could see each other, Travis. We could make arrangements. You’d learn not to hate me. You might even learn to love me.”

“Nancy, I’ve never given you reason to think so. Now suppose you get on out of here. You got what you came for.”

He started to sit up, but she placed her hand between his legs and pressed down. “Don’t move,” she commanded, “or I might hurt you.”

“You do, and I’ll kill you,” he said fiercely. “Now what the hell do you want?”

“I want you to take me again,” she said petulantly. “You might leave town, and I might never see you again. I want this to be a very special night, one we’ll both always remember.”

“Get out of my bed, Nancy. Get your clothes on and leave.” He almost snarled the words, suddenly hating himself for having been so weak as to empty himself inside her.

“Can I come back tomorrow night?” she persisted. “You know you want me, Travis. Look at you. My touch made you want me again. If you weren’t so stubborn, we’d have time for seconds tonight.”

He pointed to the door. “Out!”

Angry, she got up and began dressing. Once was never enough with a man like Travis Coltrane, and she knew he was quite capable of a repeat performance, even several.

“How long will you be in town?” she asked, fumbling with her chemise, planning ahead.

He still lay on the bed, arms folded behind his head, his magnificent body naked and exposed, enticing her more. “That’s none of your business,” he replied quietly.

“Do you still believe Kitty didn’t run off with another man?” She decided to goad him, getting even for his refusal to offer seconds. “Everyone else is not so foolish as you. They know her for what she is.”

To her chagrin, he chuckled softly. “You know, Mrs. Danton, if anyone else said that, I might be upset. But I know you only speak the words of a scorned woman. You aren’t fit for Kitty to wipe her feet on, and you know it.”

She faced him, eyes blazing, fury boiling. “You pompous, arrogant sonofabitch! Kitty Wright is a slut, and you’re too damn blind to see it. She left town with another man…left you and that little brat of yours. Everyone is laughing at you behind your back!”

He was off the bed in a streak of lightning-quick anger, wrapping his hand around her throat to cut off her taunts. “I could kill you, Nancy,” he hissed between clenched teeth. “I could wring your goddamn neck. Don’t you ever speak of Kitty or my son in such a way ever again. Say what you will about me, but never them. Do you understand? And if I hear that you’ve said these things to other people, I’ll come after you.”

Her eyes were bulging and her cheeks were turning blue. She could not breathe. She clawed out wildly, catching his cheek and tearing the flesh, and he flung her away. Stumbling, she fell backward on the bed and began to scream, not in terror, but in fury.

“Will you shut up?” he yelled, moving forward. “You want to bring the whole goddamn town in here?”

The door was flung open and Jerome Danton stood there, his face contorted with anger. “Yes, Coltrane, she does want to bring the whole town in here!” He kicked the door shut as Travis moved quickly to where his pistol lay. “You won’t need that,” Jerome said quickly. “I’ve no quarrel with you.”

Travis picked up the gun, not about to take any chances with an irate husband. He knew it was a pretty nasty scene, him naked and Nancy on the bed wearing only her chemise.

He held the gun down to his side and faced Danton. “She came here,” he said quietly. “I didn’t invite her.”

“No, I don’t imagine you did.” The man’s eyes narrowed as he looked down on his wife in scorn. “You get yourself dressed and get out of here. I’ve been watching you ever since he came back to town. I’m no fool, Nancy. I know how you’ve lusted after him, and I knew you wouldn’t be able to stay away.