Nan Ryan (43 page)

Birds chirping sweetly in the lush branches of the bristlecone pines awakened Diane. She smiled even before she opened her eyes. She lazily swept a hand across the wide bed, confident her eager fingers would encounter smooth male flesh stretched tautly over lean muscle and well-structured bone.

Her searching fingertips contacted only the silky beige sheet. Her eyes opened. She turned onto her side, yawned, and looked about. And she smiled again. By the slant of the sunshine streaming through the glass, it was late morning. Perhaps nearing noon. Star had obviously awakened earlier and didn’t want to disturb her.

Diane eagerly bounded up, swung her legs over the mattress’s edge, and pushed her hair behind her ears. Yawning again, she dug her bare toes into the plush carpet and rubbed at an itchy left eye.

Naked, she crossed the bedroom. From a chair she picked up a discarded white silk robe and drew it on, anxious to get downstairs to Star. She was tying the robe’s sash when a rare mountain bluebird glided down to land gently on the balcony’s cedar railing. Bright alpine sunlight glinting on its brilliant indigo feathers, the beautiful bluebird was a stunning sight.

Diane was drawn to the exotic little creature. She went out onto the balcony and cautiously tiptoed toward the poised bluebird. She was less than five feet away when the shy little bird cheeped a warning, fluttered its radiant wings, and took flight. Diane made a face as she watched the beautiful bluebird soar through the air out of reach.

She stood a moment more on the balcony, hands resting on the railing, violet eyes watching the bird on wing until it became a tiny blue speck. And then disappeared.

She sighed and was about to go back inside when she heard someone cough. She turned her head to the side and listened. Again the cough.

Diane smiled and shook her head. She’d have to warn Star about those strong black cigars he favored. But first she’d slip down to his library and surprise him.

Diane crept quietly down the long, wide balcony toward Star’s upstairs library. The library’s tall French doors were thrown open to the fine September morning.

Clamping her teeth down over her bottom lip, Diane sneaked steadily closer. She could hardly keep from giggling when she reached the open doors and saw him. Star was seated behind his large mahogany desk. His back was to her.

She paused in the open doorway. She took a moment to observe the darkly handsome man while he was unaware of her presence. Star drew a sheet of yellow paper out of the middle desk drawer. His long, lean fingers laid a half-smoked cigar in a crystal dish at his elbow. He reached for a writing pen. He began rapidly writing on the yellow paper before him.

Star was so engrossed Diane managed to steal right up behind his chair, silently reach around, and wrap her hands over his eyes.

“Guess who?” she said, laughter bubbling from her lips.

The laughter died in her throat when Star dropped the pen and stripped her fingers from his face with such swift force she felt the jerking pull all the way up to her shoulders. With incredible speed and quiet deadliness, he drew her around his chair.

For one brief frightening moment the man she’d known for the past few days was gone. Before her was a dark, sinister stranger who was ten times more frightening than the untamed Redman had ever been. His navy eyes almost seemed to dance. They had a deadly gleam, a scarily wild look as they clashed with hers. His lips were skinned back over his teeth in a fiercely cruel expression.

Diane trembled involuntarily, totally confused and genuinely frightened.

“Sweetheart,” Star said, his face changing instantly, his mean eyes softening as he gently pulled her down onto his lap. His voice had that low, unexcitable tone when he said softly, “Baby girl, you startled me.”

Jittery, Diane tried to smile. Couldn’t. “I—I’m sorry, I—” Her hand went up to her tight throat. “Star, you scared me half to death. You looked at me like—like—”

“I apologize, honey,” he said, his voice soothing as he reached across her. One-handed, Star folded the lined yellow Western Union message form, opened the middle desk drawer, and slipped the paper inside, all the while looking straight into Diane’s wide violet eyes. “Am I forgiven?” His smile was warm, winning.

“Yes, of course, but … Star, you looked so—so— mean—”

“I’d never be mean to you, sweetheart. Surely you know that” He toyed with the wide lapel of her white silk robe, his thumb and forefinger sliding up and down it. “Kiss me good morning?”

Pulse still beating rapidly, Diane was struck by the unsettling feeling that if she kissed him, she’d be kissing a stranger. A dark, menacing stranger whose kiss would be brutally punishing, without an ounce of warmth. Again she shivered slightly.

“Cold, baby?” asked Star.

“No, I—”

“Kiss me.”

Tentatively Diane cupped Star’s smoothly shaven jaw in her cold hand, leaned toward him, and cautiously brushed her closed mouth against his lips.

And relaxed immediately.

No stranger’s cruelly punishing lips opened under hers, but the warm, seeking mouth of her own true love. Star kissed Diane with a lazy, slow, burning heat that made her softly sigh. The tantalizing tongue that languidly swept along the seam of her closed lips caused them to willingly part. Diane closed her eyes when Star’s tongue licked at the fleshy inside of her lower lip, then drummed against her teeth. Her teeth opened to accept fully that pleasure-giving tongue into the sensitive recesses of her mouth.

When the pleasing, prolonged kiss finally ended, Diane lifted her head, smiled dreamily at Star, and said, “Good morning, my love.”

“Isn’t it?”

He settled her more comfortably on his lap, wrapping a long arm around her waist. His other hand clasped her knees.

“I hope you’re not angry with me for interrupting you.” Diane draped an arm around his wide shoulders.

“You interrupted nothing, sweetheart,” he assured her.

“Yes, I did.” She glanced at his desktop. “Weren’t you writing out a message? Sending a wire to someone?”

Calmly: “No. I was doing a little figuring. Since you’ve been here, I’ve been negligent with my bookkeeping on the mines.”

“You’re in luck,” Diane said sunnily. “I’m a whiz with numbers. I’ll help you.” She turned a little, pulled open the desk’s middle drawer.

Star’s hand covered hers. “No, sweetheart, not this morning.” He drew her hand up to his lips. Kissing her fingertips, one by one, he said, “No more work today.”

“But I’d be glad to help you catch up and—”

“I know you would.” He casually raised his knee and with it closed the desk drawer. “It can wait.” He lowered her hand from his lips. He pressed it flat against his chest, urged her soft fingers inside his half-open white shirt.

Diane lifted a well-arched eyebrow as she stroked his smooth, warm flesh. “Are you hiding something from me, Starkeeper?”

“I think”—his voice was a caress—“it’s the other way around. You’re hiding something from me.”

“Me? Never. I’ve nothing to hide.”

“I agree, my sweet.” Star grinned and tugged the wide lapels of Diane’s robe apart. His dark eyes touching the pale bare breasts he’d exposed, he murmured, “Absolutely nothing to hide.” He grinned devilishly and lifted his eyes to meet hers.

Her face flushing, Diane pulled the robe together. “You’re totally shameless.” She laughingly accused him.

“And you’re glad I am,” said Star. He rose with her in his arms and carried her out of the library, closing the door behind them.

Laughing gaily, Diane completely forgot about the yellow Western Union message paper on which Star had been writing.

In the high-altitude heat of the afternoon the pahtrekked up to Star’s private hot spring. Diane rode Black Star. Star walked ahead, muttering under his breath.

Diane watched him, smiling. He was annoyed that she had so easily conquered his prized stallion. The big black had allowed her to climb up on his bare back without protest while Star stood there in the sun, arms crossed over his chest, shaking his head and warning her she was courting danger.

When she’d effortlessly settled herself astride the big beast and given Star a triumphant look, Star had frowned, cocked a finger at Black Star, and warned the horse, “Throw her and you’ll answer to me.”

Now Diane smilingly studied Star as he walked up the trail just ahead. He had the restless way of a cat, a quick, soft step and a wildness like that of a stray bullet. His hair was lifting in the wind, and his shirt collar was open, his chest and throat exposed to the fresh air. The harsh planes of his handsome face were burned dark from the sun.

Diane closed her eyes for a second and shuddered. It was still almost impossible to believe that this complex, exciting, beautiful man belonged to her. Would soon be her husband. She was afraid any second someone would shake her awake and she’d find it had all been a lovely dream.

Not turning, Star called over his shoulder, “Diane, keep a tight rein on him. We’re heading into the craggy, creviced terrain where the footing’s tricky.”

Diane grinned. And typically female, she promptly decided to torment the naturally arrogant, overly protective male. When she was in position, she called to him, “Look, darling, no hands!”

Diane laughed at the worried expression that immediately hardened Star’s dark face when he turned to see her standing on the stallion’s bare back, her hands casually riding her hips, the long leather reins tucked into her waistband.

“Damn it to hell, Diane”—Star’s voice was as hard as his face—“you trying to give me a heart attack? Jesus Christ!”

He snapped his fingers and ordered her to sit down. Still laughing, Diane obeyed. Star then signaled Black Star to halt. The stallion also obeyed. His face set in dark fury, Star approached with sure, determined strides. Diane felt a stirring of unease when he stepped up to the horse, glowered at her, and said, “Okay, Miss Show-off Champion Trick Rider, let’s see you perform one more little trick.”

“Name it,” said Diane with confidence.

“Turn around atop the horse and face backward.”

“No sooner said than done.” In one swift, fluid movement, Diane made the switch. Facing the wrong direction astride the big mount, she said, “That was easy. Anything else?”

“Yes. Put both hands behind you on Black Star’s withers, brace yourself, lean back, and lift your legs straight up into the air.”

“Like this?” she said, nimbly lying back and shooting both bare feet up into the air.

“No,” said Star, who swung up onto the horse’s bare back, parted Diane’s legs with his hands, snatched them down, and wrapped them around his waist. He leaned forward, took her by the shoulders, and drew her up into his arms. “Like this, damn you,” he said, a muscle clenching in his jaw.

“You mad at me?” Diane asked, looking into those sultry dark eyes and placing her hands on his chest.

“I am,” said he coolly. “Better think of something to sweeten my mood.”

Diane smiled at him. “I’ll do my best.”

Staring into those dark, piercing eyes that not only looked but saw, Diane unbuttoned Star’s shirt down to his waist and lightly clawed her nails down his naked chest. She bent and slowly kissed the pink welts she had made. When she lifted her head, Star wore that dazzling smile which so easily disarmed and conquered.

“Kiss me,” he said, slapping his hand against Black Star’s rump to put him back in motion. “Kiss me, you beautiful witch, and don’t stop kissing me till we reach the springs.”

Diane did just that.

When they reached their destination, they couldn’t stop kissing. They slid off the horse, fell to the grass beside the bubbling hot spring, and made hurried, ardent love, tearing off their clothes, murmuring endearments, totally mindless of the big stallion, blowing and snorting above them.

Afterward they romped in the hot spring, purposely losing each other in the thick, vaporous mists just for the fun of the searching for and finding the other. When they were all played out, they lazily relaxed in the bubbling spring.

Star chose a spot to sit where the hot, gurgling water reached the tops of his shoulders. Diane was behind him, her legs around him, feet hooked under his bent knees. She curled herself around Star’s back and began to rub his furrowed brow with both hands as they talked again about their lives before they met, learning about each other.

Diane was far more talkative than Star. He listened with a smile as she told how she’d been indulged as a child. Despite the loss of her parents, she’d been cherished and cared for by everyone in the troupe. She’d met so many famous and important people. Had been a guest at the White House, at Buckingham Palace, had mingled with royalty.

“I’ve been bounced on Victoria’s knee—the old queen herself,” she told him. Diane fell silent for a minute, then softly said, “Star, we came from two very different worlds, so I hope you’ll understand and forgive if—if at times I’m —umm—”

“Spoiled rotten?”

“I am not!” She twisted his left ear.

He chuckled. “You are, sweetheart, but I don’t mind. I plan to finish the job myself.”

“You already have,” said Diane. “I’ve never known such happiness.”

“Same here,” said Star, his eyes closed, perspiration trickling down his face.

Diane brushed his silver-streaked hair back and kissed the side of his slick brown throat. Her lips against his flesh, she said, “Darling, tell me. Tell me the truth about that day … about your first day at the Colorado School of Mines.”

Star’s eyes slowly opened. “Are you asking about the white boys cutting off my braids?”

“Yes.” She kissed his shoulder. “How did you stand it? I would have run home to Golden Star had I been you.”

Star exhaled. “No, if you had been me, you’d have done exactly what I did.” He slid farther down into the water, laid his head gently back on her breasts. “That was the turning point in my life, Diane,” he said, his elocution slow and deliberate. “I was angry. I was hurt and confused. I had been held up to ridicule for the first time in my life, and I didn’t fully understand why.”

Diane felt a lump rise to her throat as she listened, picturing the sweet, innocent Star being tortured by a gang of callous white students.