Yesterday's Roses (23 page)

At the gentleness of his touch, Hallie experienced another unwilling surge of something that felt dangerously close to desire.

Feeling her quiver beneath his hands, Jake nodded. “Good. It appears that you understand the rudimentary stages of lust. Perhaps you're ready for lesson number two … to experiment with something more … daring.”

Fiercely Hallie battled the heated languor that was stealing through her limbs. Jake's power of seduction might be strong, but he was about to find out that her power of resistance was stronger.

Like brave David facing the mighty Goliath, she squared her shoulders and spat, “You randy bastard! How dare—” But his lips claiming hers effectively silenced her protests.

Hungrily he ravished her mouth with his tongue, his strong arms crushing her body nearer until she was cradled in the sensitive junction between his thighs. As she squirmed in a futile attempt to escape his grasp, Jake could feel the weight of her breasts pressing against his manhood and he groaned aloud at the fierce torment that immediately inflamed his loins. Damn! His revenge was rapidly turning into a double-edged sword, and it appeared that he was the one straddling the sharper side.

To Hallie, the power of his kiss was more disturbingly persuasive than she could ever have imagined. It wasn't the sweet, coaxing kiss of her childhood fantasies, nor was it anything like the tender one they had exchanged beneath the mistletoe. No. It was the hard, demanding kiss of a passionate man—a man whose naked desires seared her with their white-hot intensity, a strong man whose thinly reined control frightened even as it drew her. And despite her anger, she was finding her edge every bit as sharp as he was finding his.

No!
she scolded herself sternly. You will not give Jake Parrish satisfaction by becoming one of his easy conquests. You're going to gather what few wits you have left and show him that his kisses have absolutely no effect on you.

Yet, as his mouth brutally demanded a response from hers, she gasped aloud, and the raw heat of his kisses forced her reluctant mind to succumb to her body's treasonous will. As an aching need blossomed in her belly, Hallie returned his kiss with reckless abandon. Something stirred deep inside, and she felt herself seething with a dark sensuality that was utterly foreign to her narrow scope of experience. With a soft moan, she involuntarily arched her body against the bulge of his arousal.

Jake let out a strangled sob as he felt himself harden completely. Abruptly, he drew back from the intoxicating ambrosia of her lips. Everlasting hell! He had meant for his kisses to punish the uppity little Mission lady, but he was the one who was suffering.

Cursing himself for a lecherous fool, Jake violently thrust his hips and ground the evidence of his desire against the soft swell of her breasts. She uttered a low moan and moved against him in a way that further inflamed his lust.

Desperate with need now, Jake slid from the chair in one fluid motion, his body sparking with erotic friction as it moved against hers. He dropped to his knees in front of her, thigh to thigh, with Hallie's face pressed against his chest.

Uttering a hoarse cry, he ensnared her in the steely trap of his embrace and buried his face in the warm hollow of her throat. He could feel her pulse racing in perfect harmony with his and was maddened by the urgency he felt as her body melted against his.

Gently Jake eased Hallie's unresisting form back until she lay sprawled upon the soft blue and white Aubusson carpet. As he straddled her hips, his gaze raked her body and he felt his breath catch in his throat at the wanton image she presented.

With her hair tumbling in an autumn profusion around her face and her lips bruised and swollen from his kisses, Hallie Gardiner was every inch the beautiful temptress who haunted his dreams. Slowly Jake let out his breath. “Dear God! Do you know what you do to me, sweet Mission Lady?”

Hallie could only nod, far too caught up in her own maelstrom of need to deny the knowledge of his. Yes. She knew exactly how he felt. Just as she knew that she should struggle to control her body's turbulent response to the dark flame of his touch, knew she should push him away and run from the swollen evidence of his lust, knew she should feel shame at being so easily caught in his enticing web.

Yet, as he covered her now yielding body with his conquering one, she could do nothing but surrender to the onslaught of her own desires.

With trembling fingers, Jake fumbled at the buttons on Hallie's shapeless gray morning gown. To his frustration, his urgency made him clumsy, and he was unable to release more than three of the stubborn fastenings.

In a fit of impatience, he gave the bodice a rending tug that sent the buttons scattering in all directions. Then, with a growl of victory, he flung the ugly garment aside to reveal a chemise that was surprisingly sheer.

He had expected to find one of those thick flannel affairs favored by elderly women. But this dainty, scarlet-edged confection was so transparent, he could clearly see the coral ripeness of her nipples through the fabric. Just the sight of those thinly veiled peaks made Jake's groin tighten viciously and with an intensity that made him painfully aware that he hadn't had a woman in over three years.

Embarrassed and frightened by the fervor of Jake's gaze, Hallie made a move to cover her breasts. Before she could do more than grasp the edges of her bodice, Jake caught hold of her hands and pushed them away.

“Don't hide your breasts from me,” he whispered, gently outlining one rosy crest with his fingertip. “They're beautiful.
You're
beautiful.” He caught his breath sharply, only to release it the next instant with a groan as her nipples hardened beneath his touch.

Hallie sobbed as the heat from his hand branded her through the filmy fabric. God forgive her! She wanted to feel his hands on her bare flesh with an intensity that made her ache. Unable to control herself any longer, she moaned and arched her back, crushing her breast impatiently against his palm.

The effect on Jake was electric. With a tormented sob, he ruthlessly ripped Hallie's delicate chemise until she lay naked to her waist. Then he plunged his face deep into the valley of her cleavage, his body twitching violently as he fought to suppress his quickly approaching climax.

Damn it!
he cursed to himself. Unless he wanted to humiliate himself by spilling his seed like an inexperienced youth, he had better get away from Hallie Gardiner—and quickly! Never in his life had he needed, or wanted, a woman so badly.

But Hallie picked that very moment to grasp him in her embrace and undulate in a sensuously unbridled rhythm against him. As her pelvis rubbed insistently against the raw fire of his sex, he lost control.

Savagely he ground his manhood against her belly, sobbing with equal parts shame and pleasure as his trousers became stained with the evidence of his release. As the hot tide of his passion ebbed, Jake jerked once and then lay motionless.

As he lay with his head pillowed on Hallie's breasts, he suddenly felt like weeping; never in his life had he felt so embarrassed or so unfulfilled. Aside from the obvious physical sensations of Hallie's body against his, he had received no more pleasure from his climax than if he had sought relief from his own hand.

“Jake?” When he didn't reply, Hallie gently grasped his chin and tipped his face up to her. Every plane of his face revealed a bleakness that she didn't understand. He looked as if his best friend had just suffered a fatal accident. Stroking his cheek tenderly, she asked, “Is something wrong?”

He cocked a wry half-smile at the naiveté of her inquiry. The woman had tormented him until he'd lost control, and she didn't even realize it. With a harsh laugh, he replied, “It appears that you were the teacher and I was the pupil in our little experiment.”

At her uncomprehending expression, he rose to his knees, exposing his soiled trousers.

Her eyes widened for a moment. “You should have told me you needed to relieve yourself. I would have waited while you visited the necessary room.”

To which he laughed uproariously. Lifting one black brow in mock humor, he replied, “The kind of relief I needed—and got, I might add—had nothing to do with the kind found in the necessary room.”

“Oh, Lord!” Hallie exclaimed, and then she flushed a shade that gave new meaning to the word “red” as understanding dawned. So stunned was she by his revelation that she continued to he motionless beneath him, half naked and in a pose that could only have been described as wanton.

Which is exactly how Lavinia Donahue later described it to her sanctimonious cronies at the Ladies' Mission Society. For no sooner had Hallie's exclamation left her lips than the parlor door flew open and Hop Yung announced the woman.

Bossy to a fault, Lavinia pushed the flabbergasted

Hop Yung aside and swept into the room with her homely daughter in tow.

She stopped in her tracks at the sight of Jake straddling Hallie, and her heavy jowls shook with affronted dignity as she took in the ravaged disarray of both parties on the floor.

In a protective gesture, Jake drew the speechless Hallie up against his chest, shielding her face and breasts from the prying eyes of the intruders. Fixing Lavinia with his most quelling stare, Jake snapped, “What do you want, Mrs. Donahue?”

Lavinia's mouth worked soundlessly for several seconds. Why, the man didn't even have the good grace to look ashamed of his scandalous behavior. Imagine, cavorting with that hussy, Dr. Gardiner, in broad daylight, and on the parlor floor, no less. The man was a regular cretin! As for that loose woman in his arms, well, she would see that the Jezebel was ruined. Why, she would drive the little tart right out of town!

“Get out, Lavinia,” Jake growled, tightening his hold on Hallie's now sobbing form. He wanted nothing more than to toss the interfering old bat out on her backside and to kiss his sweet Mission Lady's tears away. But to move would have meant further exposing their scandalous state, which, for Hallie's sake, he couldn't do.

Lavinia's mouth opened and closed rapidly, like an overwrought blowfish, as she tried to think of a properly scathing remark. All she could manage to blurt was, “Well! I never!”

To which Jake replied with a humorless bark of laughter, “Of course you have, Lavinia.” He let his gaze rest suggestively on her daughter, Edith. “Well, at least once.”

Chapter 14

“Life just keeps on getting better” Hallie mumbled sarcastically as a fat raindrop pelted her on the head. She rolled her eyes toward the heavens above and heaved a long-suffering sigh.
Oh, great!
It looked as if they were in for a storm, and if those quickly gathering clouds were an accurate indicator, there was no way she would make it back to the Mission House before it broke.

As if to confirm her fears, a silvery flash of lightning streaked across the sky, followed closely by an ominous clap of thunder. Hallie started nervously. Lord! There was nothing she hated more than thunder!

Except the wind. And those cold gusts were tearing at her unbound hair with the violence of a scalping Indian. With a snort of exasperation, she paused in midstride for what seemed like the hundredth time and shoved the tangle of curls out of her face. As she tucked a particularly stubborn ringlet behind her ear, Hallie caught sight of her reflection in a shop window. If she hadn't felt so utterly miserable, she probably would have laughed.

With her hair snaking in fiery tangles around her face and her eyes red from crying, she bore an uncanny resemblance to the illustration of Medusa in her book of mythology.
Hardly the type of woman to incite uncontrollable lust in a man
, she thought bitterly as she turned away.

Yet that was exactly what had happened less than an hour ago. Hallie cringed inwardly at the shameful memory. She had behaved just like the wanton creature Lavinia Donahue had accused her of being, falling easily under the spell of Jake Parrish's enchanting kisses. And to think that she had let the man fondle her in such an intimate fashion …

Hallie shivered and wrapped her arms around herself as the wind cut through the thin wool of her gown. She'd been so mortified by her passionate display that she had fled Jake's house without stopping to retrieve her reticule or bonnet from the floor. Nor had she attempted to collect her coat, something she was now regretting.

“Oh, double damn,” she swore beneath her breath as another booming report of thunder rocked her senses. Fine kettle of fish she was in now!

Of course, it would be her own fault if she got soaked to the skin, caught a nasty cold which developed into pneumonia, and died a miserable death. A sob caught in her throat at the tragic thought. What would Jake do when he heard the news? Would he be moved enough to shed a tear or two over her untimely demise?

The very notion made her imagination soar to melodramatic heights. In her mind, Hallie pictured a tender scene where a brokenhearted Jake Parrish wept while she weakly uttered her last—albeit brave—words. He would cradle her in his arms and beg her to live, to stay with him always. And then, through the power of love, they would defeat death together.

She released a sigh at her fanciful musings. She had definitely read one dime novel too many. Knowing Jake, he would probably feel bad about her death, rather as if his favorite dog had been run over by a carriage. Yet she seriously doubted that he would mourn overly much.

With a cynical grate of laughter that made several passersby stare, Hallie admitted to herself that the thought of death did hold a certain morbid charm at that moment. After all, if she were dead, she wouldn't have to face Lavinia's nasty accusations.

She shivered again, but in a way that had nothing to do with the cold. Her life in San Francisco was ruined. Lavinia had been very clear on that particular point. Of course, when Jake had mentioned something about calling due the notes he held against Mr. Donahue's bank, the woman had fallen silent.

After having the intruders shown to the door by a rudely smirking Hop Yung, Jake had cradled Hallie in his arms and assured her that he would take care of everything. He'd told her not to worry. He'd even apologized, and profusely at that. Yet he hadn't told her he loved her or cared about her; nor had he given any indication that he felt anything beyond regret over their passionate episode. To him, it had obviously been nothing more than a casual flirtation gone wrong.

To her, it had been a confirmation of her most heartbreaking fears: he had merely been toying with her emotions.

Too humiliated and hurt to look at him, she had struggled until she was free from the restraint of his arms. Then she had fled. Because of his bad leg, he had been unable to stand, much less pursue her, and he'd had to content himself with shouting after her. His language had become quite colorful by the time she'd slammed the door behind her.

Now, walking along the drafty streets without a coat, without the funds to hire a public hack, and still several miles from the Mission House, Hallie cursed her foolhardy flight. Surely she could have paused just long enough to collect her belongings? That would have been the prudent thing to do. But prudence wasn't her strong suit these days, especially where Jake Parrish was concerned.

“Hey, girlie! How's about a bit o' fun?”

A rough-looking young man dressed like a dock worker was half leaning against a door above which was written something in Chinese. He eyed Hallie with less than wholesome interest. Subtly lengthening her stride, she made a show of ignoring him.

Not easily deterred, the man vaulted over the porch railing and scampered after her.

“What's yer hurry, darlin'?” he drawled as he fell into step with his prey and let his hungry gaze rove over her body. Looked as if she'd had a busy morning, what with her hair tumbling down and her bodice half undone. Her lips had that swollen, bruised look too, as if she'd been kissed real passionate like. He licked his own lips in anticipation.

“Was about to git myself a yeller gal.” He jerked his head toward the building against which he'd been lounging. “But seein' as yer here, well, always been right partial to the taste of strawberry tarts. Strawberry tart! Ya get it?”

He buckled over, guffawing at his own wit. When he finally recovered, he found himself alone. “Now where'd she go?” he mumbled, looking up and down the street. No little redheaded darlin' anywhere in sight. He glanced back at the
House of Golden Virtue
, his favorite brothel, and then down the street at the
Dusty Gulch
, his favorite waterin' hole.

Hell, it was barely noon. Too early to get stinkin' drunk, but the Chinese whores had suddenly lost their appeal. With a shrug, he headed toward the saloon.

It wasn't until Hallie slipped into a narrow alley that she finally dared to pause for breath. Lord! Not only had she behaved like a loose woman with Jake, she was now being mistaken for one on the streets.

She peered out of her hiding place, anxiously scanning the passersby for familiar faces. With a sinking feeling, Hallie noted that the streets were becoming crowded now, and she shrank back into the shadows as she recognized two men who were elders of Ascension Tabernacle.

She groaned out loud. Since it was the day before Christmas, every good Samaritan in town would be out on some sort of mission of mercy. Like angels cut from their heavenly bonds, they would indulge in a head-spinning frenzy of spreading cheer, feeding the hungry, and, of course, saving every vagrant soul within miles.

Which meant that Hallie couldn't risk being seen on the streets in her current state of disarray. She glanced into the passage behind her. Perhaps if she kept to the alleys …

Another drop of rain made up her mind for her, and she slipped back into the foreboding gloom of the alleys. So be it, then. Somehow she would find her way through the maze of Chinatown's alleys.

She walked for several blocks, shivering violently as the wind whistled through the narrow passages between the buildings. With the wind came an awful stink of rotting debris.

By the time she reached the end of the alley, the smell had become so overwhelming that she was forced to take her breaths in quick, choking gasps. It wasn't until she heard a slosh beneath her boots and skidded on something slippery that she peered into the shadows at her feet. What she saw made her gorge rise sharply.

There before her was a large pile of putrid fish heads lying amidst what appeared to be fish entrails. The stench was appalling.

It was too much for Hallie. She decided then and there that she would rather risk the scandal of being seen in her current disheveled state than brave more such slimy horrors in the alleys. Having come to that decision, she veered sharply to her left in the direction of the street, lifting her skirts high as she carefully sidestepped the malodorous mess.

The wind came racing around the corner like an over-eager sweetheart and engulfed Hallie in its chilly embrace as she paused at a break between the buildings. Leaning back against the uneven surface of a shingled wall, she took several gulping breaths of the clean, crisp air. Just as her stomach began to right itself and she'd steeled herself to reenter the street, a small body hurled itself into her with a force that knocked her on her backside.

Hallie could only stare in dazed wonder at the Chinese girl sprawled across her lap.
What in the world?

With a moan, the girl clutched at her belly and rose unsteadily to her feet. Still doubled over, she took several stumbling steps forward before uttering a piercing cry and collapsing to her knees.

“Did you hurt yourself?” Hallie asked, moving to the spot where the girl lay huddled. When she received no answer, she laid her hand on the girl's shoulder and gave her a gentle shake. “I'm a doctor. Perhaps I can help you.”

“She's going to need a doctor, and quite badly, when I'm finished with her,” replied a beautifully modulated voice.

A dark shadow fell across Hallie as a man loomed into the opening. He was a tall man, richly dressed, and, from what she could see of his face, not unattractive. Ignoring Hallie, he sauntered over to the now whimpering Chinese girl.

“Thought you could escape, did you?” he inquired, jerking the girl to her feet with one hand. “It was stupid of you to run. I paid dearly for the privilege of your company, and I intend to take my pleasure with, or without, your cooperation.”

With that, he pulled the limp form closer an gave her a vicious slap across the face. The girl let out a strangled scream laced with equal parts terror and pain; he smiled with satisfaction, pleased by the sound.

“That's better.” Laughing triumphantly, he lifted his palm to administer another blow, but before he could land the strike, a pair of restraining hands clamped onto his arm. Infuriated by the interruption, he let out a string of foul curses and flung the Chinese girl hard against the wall. Then he rounded on his opposition.

He felt the blood rush to his face as he glared down at the unkempt, red-haired spitfire clutching at his elbow. She seemed unafraid of his fury, and he could have sworn he read a challenge in those glowing gold tiger eyes.

That very lack of fear enraged him beyond reason. When Nick Connelly frowned like he was doing now, people—especially women—were supposed to dissolve into an intimidated mass of quivering flesh. Obviously this particular female was in need of a lesson in the meaning of his scowl.

With lightning speed, he shook his arm free from her grasp, breaking her hold as easily as if he had been bound by chains of paper. Emitting a feral growl, he brutally backhanded the little busybody across the side of her head. She reeled from the blow.

“I'll teach you to interfere!” Nick hissed, catching the other side of her head with another loud
whack.
He chuckled as the impact sent her flying backward.

Pain burst through Hallie's head as the man's fist made bruising contact with the area just above her ear, and as she was thrown up against a brick wall, it jolted down her spine. Stunned, she slid silently to the ground. Then everything blurred before her eyes.

It was the revolting sensation of fish entrails beneath her hands that snapped her back to the frightening reality of her plight.

“Just who the hell are you? And what gives you the right to stick your nose into my business?” Nick ground out as he hovered over the figure on the ground.

But Hallie was gagging uncontrollably and was unable to answer. She heaved drily for several seconds before being seized by her cascading hair and hauled to her feet.

“Answer me!” he growled, punctuating his words by banging her head against the wall.

Struggling to escape the man's hold, Hallie managed to gasp, “I'm from the Mission Infirmary! I'm Dr. Hallie Gardiner.”

“An angel of mercy from the mission,” Nick purred, abruptly ceasing his battering and pulling her close to study her features. There was fear in her eyes now, and tears slid unchecked down her pale cheeks.

How he hated these so-called good women. He hated the way they avoided him, hated the way they crossed the street when they saw him coming, acting as if to pass him meant to risk some terrible contamination. And all because he'd roughed up a couple of the girls who were under the protection of the Mission House.

Hell. Once a whore, always a whore, he'd figured, though that high and mighty Davinia Loomis had made it very clear that she disagreed. When she'd publicly called him to task for his deeds, she'd effectively ensured that he would be snubbed by every decent woman in the city.

From that point on, he had dreamt of wreaking vengeance on the sanctimonious goody-goodys at the mission. Now that his chance was at hand, he intended to make the most of it.

“Well, Dr. Hallie Gardiner,” he began in a falsely cordial tone, “it seems as if my companion is no longer in any condition to fulfill her duties.” He nodded at the motionless figure of the Chinese girl. “A fact that sorely disappoints me. I'm not a man who copes well with disappointment.”

Nick coiled the length of Hallie's hair around his hand and wrenched her head back cruelly. Lightly tracing the deep valley between her breasts with one well-manicured finger, he mused, “I know you wouldn't want me to be disappointed, would you, Doctor?”