Taming Talia (9 page)

Still, she could envision a future with Jared, working side-by-side with him. Even if he was a stranger, he was more of a partner than Reginald ever was.

She shook off the notion of a future with anyone. Never again would she be under some man’s thumb. Now that she had Reginald’s money and the family land back under her control, she had power. The power to do whatever, whenever, and with whomever she wanted. Now, that was true power—like that of any man. And she wouldn’t be surrendering it to anyone.

Let alone an arrogant stranger who fucked like a steam-powered machine.

Hours later—no, maybe it was months later—Jared lifted the final shovelful of snow. He tugged on the ranch house’s kitchen door until it opened. The night sky was darkening quickly, and the howling of the wind had increased in intensity. With his arm around Talia’s slender waist, he literally dragged her inside the cold, dark house. At least they were out of the wind.

He carried the exhausted Talia to her bedroom, then laid her on the chaise. He covered her shivering body with a quilted coverlet from the bed.
Have to see about removing her wet clothing later. First, a fire.

Kneeling before the fireplace, he found a small stack of mesquite, enough to start a decent fire, but it wouldn’t last them through another long night.

Once the fire caught, he stood. Talia appeared to be asleep. No wonder; she’d worked as hard as any man, but the cold wind had sapped her strength during the final hour of their ordeal. He lit a kerosene lamp to chase away the gathering darkness, then walked over to her wardrobe and opened it. Nothing but useless dresses of silk and lace. What she needed next to her skin was dry undergarments and layers of clothing.

He shivered. Matter of fact, warm anything would feel pretty good right now. Raiding Montrose’s wardrobe could wait. Getting Talia dry came first. He walked over to an ornately carved walnut chest situated at the foot of her bed. The chest appeared old enough to have come off a boat from Spain and been handed down through the generations. Maybe she’d brought it with her as part of her dowry. He opened the wood-and-brass closure and lifted the lid.

He smiled. Very fine woolen underwear, fit for a rich man’s wife. Apparently, Montrose spared no expense for his wife’s clothes. Might still be alive if he’d paid less attention to her attire and more to her other needs. Taking two pairs of everything, Jared set the undergarments on her bed.

He pulled the chaise closer to the fire, then sat beside her, stroking the side of her face. “Talia?” Her skin was pale and remained cool to his touch. Fear built in his chest. Fear he hadn’t gotten her inside quickly enough. “Talia!”

Her dark lashes fluttered; then she opened her eyes. Taking a ragged breath, she gazed around the room, appearing dazed. “I—when did we…?”

“Shh. You weren’t quite as strong as you thought. Had to drag you the last few yards. That’s all.” He gave a casual shrug as if it weren’t an issue of life and death. What was the point in letting her know how he’d panicked when she’d faltered? How he’d dug frantically, like a madman, until he cleared the final path to safety.

“Sorry to have been a burden.” Letting out a small sigh, she scooted up on her elbows. “The fire feels wonderful. I don’t know when I’ve ever been so cold.”

“Let’s get you changed into some dry clothes.” He glanced over at the Spanish chest. “I found some, uh,
things
and set them on your bed. The more layers you wear, the better.” Strange he should feel any embarrassment when it came to naming her unmentionables. Not after the night they’d spent together. Still, this was her bedroom. Her home. He was little more than a stranger.

No, he was a Pinkerton agent with an assignment. Best remember that.

Laughing, Natalia unbuttoned his coat and shirt, snaked her arms around his waist, then rested her cheek on his bare chest. “Let’s get you changed as well.”

He sucked in a breath. The warmth of her exhalations against his skin sent shivers up his spine. He pressed a kiss on top of her head and shut his eyes as he held her. In his mind’s eye, he could see the two of them together…forever. What sweeter comfort could any man find than in the arms of this woman?

The burning mesquite popped, reminding him of the need for more firewood. “I’ll change, but I need to go back out for more wood, and it’s already time to feed the horses.”

“Really? I can’t believe it took so long. Wait. I’ll go with you.” She sat straight up. “Won’t take as long.”

He shook his head. “No, you almost didn’t make it last time. I know you don’t like taking orders, but this time, you
must
stay inside the house. With the trench and the rope for a guide, I won’t be gone long.”

Her dark eyes widened, flashing with fiery rebellion. “I’m going!”

“No, you’re not. If I have to tie you down, I will.”

“Then I’d be your prisoner instead of Reginald’s.” Her expression grew pensive as she stuck the tip of her forefinger in her mouth and sucked. “I might not mind being
yours
.”

He gazed into the darkest of brown eyes. “Promise me.”

“I promise.” Her words were what he wanted to hear, but her tone held a note of vacillation.

“You mean it? You’ll stay inside?”

“
Sí
.”

“You won’t leave the house for any reason. No matter what. None.”

“
Sí. Sí. Sí
! But you are such a stubborn man.”

“I’m not the stubborn one.” He shook his head. The woman would drive him mad if he let her. “That’s you.”

“And if I were not, we wouldn’t have spent such an interesting evening.”

He stood and stepped away from the fire…and Talia, lest he get burned. Damn. Best get out of the lady’s reach. “There would’ve been no need for an ‘interesting evening’ had you remained inside as instructed.”

Sticking her nose in the air, she gave a little huff. “Was making love to me such a chore, Jared?”

“Not a chore, but it wouldn’t have happened otherwise.” It shouldn’t have happened at all, but she was freezing…and he was a man. Enough said.

“I beg to disagree.” She gave an arrogant toss of her hair. Her long black locks were in disarray from the day’s work. “It was going to happen—one way or another.”

“You’re awfully certain of your allure,
señora
.” Even in the soggy, shapeless clothes she wore, she was more than alluring. His cock was hard as a brick. He wanted nothing more than to loosen the rest of her hair and carry her to the bed and make love to her all over again.

Her sensual mouth pulled into a catlike smile as she shot him a sideways glance. “A woman knows when she’s desired.” She rose from the chaise and started removing her wet garments. Unbuttoning the flannel shirt slowly—one button at a time—she revealed the silken skin he already knew so well.

“From the first time we met, I knew you wanted me.” Her dark gaze held him immobile. He wanted to look away but couldn’t. Mouth dry, he swallowed.

“You couldn’t hide your interest any more than my husband could hide his lack.” She shrugged off the shirt, then nimbly stepped out of the wet denims. Like some sort of wild-animal mating ritual, she preened, caressing the curves of her body in the light of the fire. “Any more than you can hide your desire now.” Her knowing gaze dropped to his crotch.

Fearful of losing all control, he turned away. “For God’s sake, Natalia. Please get dressed before you freeze to death. You know I need to go back and feed the animals.” Unwilling to give in to her sensual power, he strode from the room.

Dios
! How dare he leave her naked and alone? Natalia called after him, “You would’ve frozen without me with nothing but two horses and a cow for company.” She stomped her foot, but it did nothing to relieve her frustration. What an infuriating man—just when she thought she had his undivided attention. But as much as she hated to admit it, he was right to consider the creatures that couldn’t fend for themselves.

While she dreaded leaving the meager heat emanating from the fire, she might as well get dressed. Her stomach growled again. First warm clothes, then food.

She quickly pulled on the woolen underwear, then found another pair of heavy denim pants and stepped into them. After buttoning them, she pulled not just one but two plaid flannel shirts from the chifforobe drawer. Two layers of everything. That should be sufficient to keep from freezing and still be able to walk around. The flannel shirts were soft and warm against her skin, and finally she was able to stop shivering.

To hell with Jared Fields for his offhand manner. She could hear him rummaging around in Reginald’s bedroom. Fortunately, Sarita hadn’t had time to get rid of his old clothes.

At the thought of Sarita, tears welled in Natalia’s eyes. Surely her housekeeper and friend had made it to her husband and their snug little house before the snowstorm worsened. There was nothing Natalia could do now. But as soon as the weather cleared enough, she would saddle her mare and ride over to their house.

In the meantime, Natalia was so hungry it felt like her belly was rubbing against her backbone. She strode down the central hall, meaning to head for the kitchen, but Jared suddenly emerged from Reginald’s bedchamber. He set his hands on her shoulders, blocking her way. Damn him! She stepped back and gave him a none-too-gentle shove. “Out of my way.”

“Where do you think you’re you off to now?” One dark brow arched as if he was amused by her action.

She glared up at him, torn between smacking his bristly cheek or kissing it. “The kitchen. Am I the only one who’s hungry?” She stepped to the side, aiming to go around him, but he matched her step in a smooth waltz-like glide. Pulling her into his arms, he held her tight against his chest and spun her around.

“Stop it. This isn’t one of your fancy cotillion balls. Besides, you’re still damp.” But his nearness was getting to her, if her weakening knees and ragged breathing were indications. “Go change,” she said with a softening of her tone. “I’ll fix us something to eat.”

“Talia…” His voice deepened and broke. “I could eat you all night and all day for that matter.” He ducked his head, then said, “Sorry I snapped. You have a way of throwing me off balance.”

Shooting him a warm glance, she curtsied. “Of course,
Señor
Fields. That’s been my plan all along.” The thought of his tongue and how it felt sliding wetly between her legs sent a shudder through her body. Smiling and in grave danger of losing herself in his dark steel gaze, she shook her head. “Soon,
that
would not be enough. Eventually, we would die of starvation.”

A merry laugh erupted from the man who still held her in his arms. “Might have a point at that.” He released her after planting a quick kiss on her forehead. “I’ll change. But then I’m heading out again… The animals. Firewood, remember?”

“Yes, firewood, unless you want cold stew.”

“I’ve eaten worse.” He grinned down at her, his gray eyes shining with good humor. “But I do prefer my meat—uh, meals—hot.”

“Then get the firewood, and I’ll see to it that everything you eat”—pausing, she fluttered her lashes for effect—“is just the way you like it.”

“Your kindness and consideration are much appreciated, ma’am.” The cheeky bastard winked, bowed, then returned to Reginald’s bedchamber to change into dry clothes.

Yes, his meaning was clear. Tonight would be another night for fucking. And it would be in the comfort of her bed, not on top of a smelly, scratchy horse blanket placed on a pile of hay. The thought sent a curl of pleasure to her belly and below. Clamping her knees together, she squirmed.

He’d better hurry with that firewood. She couldn’t wait much longer.

Once in the kitchen, Natalia checked the icebox, Reginald’s last extravagant purchase before meeting his demise. Sarita had saved the remaining portion of the stew in a covered saucepan. Natalia lifted the lid and saw there was enough for another meal. Next she lit a candle and carried it into the pantry. The shelves were lined with glass jars of dried beans and canned tomatoes from the hacienda’s small garden, as well as a variety of tinned food items purchased in the town’s small general store. Reginald had been very fond of his food, and what couldn’t be bought locally, he ordered in quantity from stores back East. Dried chilies were stored according to variety in a rectangular, covered tin pan. Thanks to Sarita’s hard work, the root section of the wine cellar was well stocked with potatoes, sweet potatoes, onions and even apples from the handful of trees Reginald insisted on planting.

In other words, thanks to Reginald’s love of food, they weren’t in danger of starving. But what about her ranch hands and the two thousand head of cattle waiting in town to go to market? If the snow didn’t end soon, many would be lost. Perhaps all.

In the meantime, there was nothing she could do except survive.

She walked back into the kitchen and found Jared there, warmly dressed in her late but not lamented husband’s old clothes and prepared to go back into the storm. Reginald’s clothes fit Jared’s lean-hipped body loosely, but he looked handsome nonetheless.

“As you suggested, I helped myself.”

“He won’t mind where he is. Hell, I hope. I was going to have Sarita burn them, but then it occurred to me that we should distribute everything to those who were in need. I suppose this qualifies.”