Tarnished Angel (48 page)

    His breathing ragged, Ross withdrew from her mouth, cupping Devina's head more securely as he trailed his lips across the cool, delicate skin of her cheek to press light, butterfly kisses against her fluttering eyelids, the throbbing pulse in her temple, the fine line of her brow. Intoxicated by the taste of her, he touched his lips to the small intricate shell of Devina's ear to taste and probe the fragile hollows, even as low-voiced, trembling words of endearment fell from his lips.

    Devina moved subtly in his arms, arching her back to provide the perfect path for his lips down the slender column of her throat to the warm, throbbing wells at its base. Oh, God, how sweet she was, how warm, how well she fit his mouth, his kiss.

    But Devina was trembling. The hand that had rested on his shoulder fell away, and Ross drew back to look at her. She was too pale. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was uneven. Guilt assailed him. Gently, with utmost care, he pressed her back against the pillow, following her down to touch his lips to her mouth with a concerned whisper. "Devina darling, are you all right?"

    Her heavy eyelids lifted slowly, the glorious silver-blue of her gaze bemused, almost bewildered. A swell of tenderness rose within him, and Ross swallowed against the pull of her aura, despising himself for the desire coursing through him, pressing him for more, so much more, despite her weakened state. He raised his palm to her cheek, caressed its velvet softness, his sharp intake of breath again sounding sharply in the silence as Devina turned her head to press her lips against his palm.

    Ross's eyes closed briefly against the bittersweet agony that assailed him. He pulled her against him, gasping as Devina's pink, erect nipples teased his chest. His parted lips moved against the curve of her jaw, nibbling and biting in his overwhelming desire to consume her, draw her in, make her a part of him. His voice was a low, shaken whisper against her ear.

    "Devina darling… I want to love you. I want to hold you in my arms so close that there'll be no one in the world but the two of us. I want you to belong to me, now, Devina…"

    Devina turned toward him. She was breathless, uncertain, as his mouth trailed along her cheek to brush her mouth once again. Her lips trembled as she sought to speak, but no sound emerged. His passion almost out of control, Ross was seized by a new shuddering.

    Devina swallowed, her eyes flicking briefly closed. Her lips trembled once more, and Ross covered them with his, holding them firm under his kiss, lending her his strength and his weakness as he slipped his arms under and around her to enclose her in a crushing embrace. Flesh to flesh, their hearts pounding in ragged unison, Ross kissed her again and again, his hunger growing, consuming him even as a nagging fear tore at his conscience. She was ill, weak…

    Drawing back, Ross pressed his lips to Devina's temple in an attempt to halt the rapid escalation of his passions. He stroked the fair hair there, marveling at its incandescent glow even as he sought to retain the last of his waning control.

    "Devina, you're going to have to tell me to stop. You're going to have to tell me loud and clear that you don't want me to touch you, because I won't be able to stop by myself. Devina, say it now, darling, or don't say it at all, because in a few minutes it'll be too late."

    There was no response to his ragged whisper, and Ross drew back slowly. He was overwhelming her, not giving her a chance to speak, even if she wanted him to let her go. He drew back farther, his eyes moving over Devina's supremely beautiful face, the pale hair splayed out in a shimmering halo against the pillow, her graceful shoulders sculpted against the hard surface of the bunk, the full, perfect curves of her breasts. He dared not think of the rest of her soft body, which lay beneath the thin blanket, not if he hoped to retain a last shred of control.

    Devina's chest was rising and falling rapidly, and Ross placed his palm against one firm, full breast, caressing the sweet curve, cupping it lovingly. He lowered his head to the sweet flesh and tasted it with his tongue. He heard Devina's low gasp, and he opened his mouth to take in the warm pink peak. He drew on it gently, his heart thundering as his hunger mounted, as he sought to devour the sweet flesh. But he could not be satisfied with just    a taste. Hotly, anxiously, he moved his voracious quest to the other mound, his hands cupping its round firmness, caressing it, wanting all he could take and more.

    He was not certain of the exact moment he felt Devina's fingers moving sensually in his hair, gripping him to hold him fast against her. Elation surged through him, and he shuddered with the joy of her acceptance. But he needed one thing more…

    Drawing back from her sweet flesh, Ross slid up to press his lips lightly against Devina's once more. He spoke softly, his voice low and caressing. "Devina, open your eyes, look at me."

    Devina's heavy eyelids again fluttered, rising slowly until she met his gaze. He saw wonder in the brilliant eyes meeting his, and he saw her confusion at the emotion that moved between them with a heat so intense that she was helpless against it. The desire reflected there was only a pale shadow of the force that pounded through his body, but it exhilarated him. Still, it was not enough. He had to be sure.

    "That's right, darling, look at me. Tell me who you see."

    Devina still seemed confused. Anxiety touched his mind as an aching suspicion began to grow inside him. His expression hardened, and his body grew tense. His grip tightened unconsciously as his voice became harsher, more demanding. "Devina, tell me who you see."

    A flash of pain moved across Devina's face, and Ross felt another anxiety touch his mind. But he could not relent. "Tell me."

    Devina's voice emerged in a confused whisper, "Ross, I…"

    Ross was suddenly still. "Say that again, Devina."

    "Ross."

    Ross's mouth closed over the sound, swallowing it, consuming it and the lips through which his name had passed. Then, drawing back, aware that Devina's eyes were following his movements, he shed the rest of his clothes, the last impediment to the intimate meeting of their flesh, and stripped back the coverlet that hid Devina's full naked beauty from his view. Lowering himself slowly, gently upon her, gasping at the first full meeting of their flesh, Ross covered Devina's mouth with his. He drank deeply, seeking to sate the thirst that had raged unabated within him from the first moment of their meeting. Lifting Devina's arms, he slid them around his neck, his joy rising as they closed tighter around him, drew him closer. He   was consuming her, drawing deeply, taking all she had, all she would give.

    Suddenly there was no more time, and another kind of rage shook him. It was too soon, too soon.

    Ross tore his mouth from Devina's, his eyes speaking his regret in the inadequacy of words. Moving to straddle her hips with his knees, he brushed Devina's thighs with his callused palms, pausing to stroke the warm nest nestled there for the briefest moment before he separated her legs. He saw the surprise on her pale face, the sudden fear reflected there in the moment before he nudged the moist core of her femininity with the firm staff of his desire, in the moment before he entered her tentatively and then thrust full and deep within her.

    Devina's low gasp echoed in his mind as her body arched beneath him, but he held her fast. He felt her shudder, and he gripped her closer still, his lips moving against her face to find her mouth. He kissed her again and again, whispering soft words of love, of need, of consolation even as he plunged repeatedly within her.

    Her slender body was warm under his, moist with perspiration, but he was insensible to all but the growing heat inside him, the wonder of the intimate warmth that closed around him, the low whimpers of a responsive passion growing stronger against his lips.

    And then the flaring heat of climax, the wonder of Devina's small body shuddering, taking him full and deep within it, the sweet giving of her body as it rose to meet his, as it gave him all it had to give, all he had ever wanted, all he would ever need.

    Jake leaned indolently against the carpenter shop window, but his casual posture belied the racing of his mind. He pushed back his hat and raised his face to the
midafternoon
sun. It had taken more patience than he thought he possessed, and more time than he had wanted to spend, to reach this particular spot on Fremont Street at this particular time of day. He supposed that went to show how damned desperate he really was.

    He had all but worn himself out with caution. About two hours earlier he had left the Crystal Palace Saloon, making certain there were enough witnesses to his statement that he had to go check on his horse. He had turned onto Fifth Street and walked at a leisurely pace toward Fremont. From there he had    sauntered toward Fourth Street, stopping to pass the time of day with a few familiar faces along the way. He had taken each opportunity to restate his reason for his casual jaunt toward Bullock and Crabtree's Livery Stable.

    He had then spent the allotted time at Bullock and Crabtree's, pestering Jack Crabtree about his horse's condition when he knew damned well there was not a thing wrong with the animal. Making sure that he had firmly established the reason for his presence on Fremont Street, he had then walked farther down and propped himself against the window of the carpenter's shop, where he now stood.

    He had made certain to be properly obnoxious while eyeing the women who emerged from Addie
Bourland's
dressmaking shop, and had been startled at the smile he had gotten from the daughter of one of the town's wealthy bankers. Had he been interested, he was certain he could have made more of that meeting than just the short wink he had given her.

    Jake shifted his posture again, hoping the movement had not revealed his impatience, then turned and looked toward Third Street, his eye on the big house near the corner. With annoyance he noted that he had not seen a sign of life in the Dale household since he had arrived, and he was getting damned tired of waiting. Where in hell was Lai Hua?

    Even as impatience brought a frown to his brow, Jake shook his head. He was stupid for having come here today. Last night, as he had traveled that dark trail away from the miner's shack, he had vowed to stay away, but the dawning of a new morning and the prospect of another long day stretching ahead of him had altered his thinking.

    He had tortured himself with the thought that maybe Lai Hua hadn't seen the ribbon. It was possible, after all. He had gone by the trail that morning and seen it still tied where he had left it. He had removed it from the bush and stuffed it into his pocket. He realized belatedly that he was clenching the damned scrap in his hand right now. In any case, he had determined that he would try again.

    Jake took a deep, weary breath. Damn, he felt like hell. He had lain awake most of the night going over and over everything Lai Hua had said. He had done a lot of other thinking, too. He had reached the conclusion that he was not only an ex-convict and a thief, but a fool as well. The first two things he     could do nothing about, but he definitely intended to work on the third.

    But to do that, he had to see Lai Hua. If he wasn't too far off his guess, she should be coming out that back door any time now to go on her afternoon shopping tour. Ward's Butcher Shop was right across the street from where he stood, and he was pretty sure Lai Hua would be taking that route real soon.

    Jake squinted into the distance, his eyes focusing on a flutter of movement as the back door of the Dale house opened. He felt his heart leap as Lai Hua walked across the yard and turned onto the street. He started slowly in her direction.

    He knew the exact moment Lai Hua spotted him walking toward her. Her small frame stiffened, her chin rising with determination. It was then that he felt the first stab of fear. Watching as she crossed the street farther down, he crossed as well, so they might meet casually, as far as observing eyes might see. She was walking at a steady pace in his direction, her eyes carefully turned to avoid direct contact with his. Under any other circumstances, he would have admired her caution.

    With a sinking heart, Jake realized Lai Hua was about to walk past him. His hand snaked out, grasping her narrow wrist, causing her to look up at him. Her dark eyes were cool and that coolness shook him more than he had realized possible. He attempted a smile.

    "I waited, Lai Hua. You didn't come. I just wanted to make sure. I thought maybe you didn't see the ribbon."

    Making no attempt to avoid his gaze, Lai Hua responded simply, "I saw it, Mr. Jake."

    Carefully disengaging her arm from his grasp, Lai Hua turned away and continued down the street. Following her small figure with his gaze until she turned into Ward's Butcher Shop, Jake abruptly turned and forced himself to walk casually toward Third Street and back to Allen.

    
Hafford's
, the Occidental, the
Alhambraany
saloon would do, now that he knew it was truly over.

    So now Ross knew.

    Devina was silent and still, sleeping in his arms in the aftermath of their loving. The sun-drenched landscape outside the door was bright with the light of afternoon, but somehow he had   been unable to make himself rise, to separate himself from Devina's slight, clinging warmth.

    Guilt touched Ross's mind. He should have known better. He had exhausted Devina with his loving, teased her untutored body until she had used up her small remaining reservoir of strength. His need for this woman had driven him past common sense, and he was angry with himself for his own weakness. But even in the face of his self-directed anger, he was unwilling to separate himself from her, perhaps because everything was suddenly so clear. Now he knew d. d. d.