Gold Fever Page 4

  Hearing her beg for him to take her would be music to his ears. Her golden hair spilled over her shoulders and he ran his fingers through it, letting the strands slip back down to her skin. Having her curves beneath him as she submitted to him, would be a pleasure he wasn't sure he could wait for. After all, he was giving up a lot to play this game with her.

  He wouldn't be able to visit his favorite stop this trip to town because she was joining him.

  The ladies at the whorehouse would probably be disappointed, but he could make it up to them on his next trip, he thought with a rueful smile.

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  Chapter Seven

  "I saddled up the horses and have them ready to go. You finally ready, darling?” He announced his entrance with a knock and a smile.

  "Of course, but I am not your darling.” Barbara snapped the small-mirrored case shut that she used to apply her make up, and stuck it in her purse. It was a simple drawstring purse that she could hang from her wrist, but it matched the outfit and she wanted to make a good impression on the townsfolk here. You had only one chance to make a first impression.

  He grinned mischievously and gave a low whistle, running his gaze over her generous curves. Her lacy dress had an open bodice that pushed her breasts up, making them appear even more round and full. “Well, you certainly clean up nice, sweetheart."

  "You clean up pretty good yourself, even if you do insist on calling me those pesky little nicknames,” she grudgingly admitted. She didn't need to get on familiar terms with him. It did something to her insides when he talked to her that way. Using those irritating endearing nicknames on her, it was something that complicated how she felt about him and she didn't need those kinds of feelings for him. As it was, she had to fight butterflies in her stomach when he spoke with her. But was it any wonder? He was a devilishly handsome man, roughened by the western frontier. His golden skin should be rough from the harsh environment, but she knew first hand that he was soft and warm, and those calloused fingers held the gentlest of touches. His chin was smooth after his morning shave, his cologne tickled her nose as she walked by him, a scent she had smelled before, but lighter. Today it was clean and fresh as if he had just bathed.

  Wait a minute. His hair was wet and clean, swept to the side freshly combed. He had a bath? When did he have the opportunity to bathe? Barbara had looked for a tub large enough to take a bath and still had not found one in her search of the cabin.

  "I didn't know you had a washtub."

  "We don't, darling. I used the river this morning. It's cold, but it's a good way to wake up in the morning. You are welcome to come with me one morning if you would like.” There was something very sexual about the way he was looking at her just then. A tingling sensation tightened in her chest and stretched clear to her loins.

  He didn't need to know what he did to her on a regular basis. She clenched her teeth and snapped at him, “In your dreams, Vincent."

  "Just being neighborly, darling. It's always nice to have someone to scrub those hard to reach places.” He grinned at her playfully, a dimple forming in his smile. “I wouldn't mind a little help with a bath now and then."

  "You are a grown man, and you certainly don't need any help in the bath. Especially from me."

  "It's true, I don't need any help, but it makes bath time a lot more fun to have company.” His expression turned wolf-like and hungry as thought he imagined her next to him in the cool waters. Her creamy skin naked to his touch, covered in soapsuds.

  She pretended not to understand his look and, turning on her heel, she walked by him and left to go outside and see which horse she would be riding. “I can't swim, so I certainly won't be joining you in any rivers anytime soon. I would appreciate having a bath tub here in the house, so I don't have to worry about drowning.” The concern was apparent in her voice as she made her way out the door.

  "If it would make you happy, consider it done,” he said, shutting the door behind them.

  * * * *

  She had not complained for the week they had been together, and he imagined a lady such as herself wasn't used to roughing it. He wasn't sure why he had this tender desire to take care of her needs and protect her, but where Barbara Lane was concerned, she had invaded more than his house.

  He wasn't entirely sure how much longer he could hold off this strong pull of desire for her. Or how long he would be able to stay off her side of the bed.

  It may be weeks, it may be months, but he knew he would bed her one day soon. She wouldn't be able to hold out forever, and he was not as much of a gentleman as he should be. Perhaps if he went to visit the saloon in town, one of the women upstairs could make some of these urges go away. Since Barbara had come into his home, everything had been chaotic, and it seemed like he was constantly walking around hard as steel.

  He blamed it on her far too generous chest. He always had been a breast man, and he imagined playing with them, letting those creamy orbs spring free of her restricting clothes. He would play with her nipples until they hardened for him into firm, round peaks, and take them into his mouth. And Miss Lane, who was always a lady, would be biting her lip to suppress the urge to scream as she came in his hands, shuddering under his touch.

  There he went again. His cock went hard as nails thinking of her.

  It was getting damn uncomfortable.

  His denim pants hugged his thighs, and if she knew what to look for she would see the front of his pants tenting over his hard cock, straining against the seam of his britches.

  Good thing she was fairly innocent.

  He smiled to himself. Her innocence was a small flaw, which Vincent planned to correct. All in good time.

  * * * *

  "I hope you don't mind if I go take a walk by myself. I would like to look at the town a little more.” Hopefully there would be some interest in half of a gold mine somewhere in this town, she thought darkly.

  His dark brown eyes narrowed speculatively. “I think you may need some guidance in case you have any trouble."

  "Nonsense. Who would give me trouble? It's not as if I am wandering into some dark alleyways, looking for thugs, Mr. Waverly. I am going to go do a little window shopping, and I am sure a man like yourself would only get bored."

  "I think I must insist, darling. I can't leave you to wander the streets without a chaperone. It would be a disappointment to lose my partner just days after I learn I have one.” His features hardened and his body stiffened, preparing for a fight that he wasn't about to lose.

  Barbara wasn't prepared to have him follow her around like a puppy this whole trip. She needed time alone if she wanted to try and sell off her share of the mine, or even find a buyer. Having Vincent follow her everywhere would ruin her plans. “Honestly, Mr. Waverly, I won't be wandering the streets alone. I just wanted to shop in the dress shop and if I was to get fitted, I would appreciate a little privacy."

  His stance relaxed, and his voice was calmer. He gave her a wink, knowing it would infuriate her. “You sure? I could offer a lot of good advice for a fitting. I think we could find a dress that would show off your features quite nicely and maybe even improve a few."

  "Ooooh! You know better than that. I can't have a man there. What will people think? You know what they will think. They will think that I am your mistress, that's what!” Her cheeks grew hot, thinking about her mother and how she was ostracized from good society for having a child out of wedlock. Barbara didn't want to be shunned, and certainly not for something she didn't do.

  He came unbearably close, to within inches of her, and a devilish look entered his eyes as he touched her golden hair and let it spill back onto her shoulders. “Let them say whatever they want.” He tilted her head up, his thumb caressing her cheek, and she looked at him, aching for his kiss. His lips were so close and he was so close, she could feel his body heat with the close contact. Her own skin was on fire. “We are the only ones who know the truth. Right, sweetheart?"

  Her eyes widened in alarm at his words. She could never allow herself to become his lover, and what had she almost done? She felt like throwing herself at him with just the briefest of touches. Roughly, she thrust him away from her, and said, “There is nothing between us and never will be, Mr. Waverly."

  He retreated, stepping away from her, making his way towards the saloon, laughing to himself. He yelled out to her as he was leaving, “Now what did I tell you about saying never? Meet me at the saloon when you are done, darling."

  Barbara growled something unintelligible. That man rankled her nerves, irritating her with every other word. He was cocky and arrogant, so sure that she was attracted to him, that Barbara found she had a hard time denying it. She just wasn't sure how much longer she could last in such close proximity to Vincent. When he gave her invitations for private moments such as a bath together or to join him on his side of the bed, she was tempted to do it, and she knew better.

  A man like him wasn't going to settle down and marry.

  A man like him was dangerous to a woman like her.

  It would invite disaster and she vowed she would not follow the same path as her mother. She would not give up everything in the name of love. She would not give up her body and her life for some man that had no intention of taking care of her or her child if there ever was one.

  All the more reason to make sure a child was never an issue. She could never sleep with that man.

  Never.

  * * * *

  She watched him disappear into the saloon, still fuming. Then turned and walked briskly down the dirt road, trying to decide in which place to start first.

  The town was not very big and did not have a large selection of places she could make enquiries about her mining claim. Wooden buildings lined the street, horses tied to fence posts here and there. Very few people were on the street today, most were probably attending to their business. There were most of the common businesses you would see in a town this size, a horseshoe farrier, general store, bank, saloon, jail, church, and hotel.

  Barbara walked to the building closest to her, which happened to be the sheriff's office and also the jail. She assumed that the jail was the addition to the side of the only stone building that she had seen in the small town.

  The wooden door creaked as she opened it. There was a large empty desk covered by papers and the room was not too large, but surprisingly devoid of people. She called out, hoping to hear someone was inside. “Hello?"

  A man had been reclining on a chair, his legs kicked up on the desk. His hat tipped low over his eyes, he grumbled a little as if he was just waking up. Removing his hat, he looked around for who had interrupted his afternoon nap. He was cheerful as he spoke, despite the rough burr of his voice. “Howdy ma'am."

  "Howdy,” she answered, nervously fingering her dress.

  Even in the middle of the day, the sheriff's office was dismal and darker than it should be. Downright depressing. If it was up to Barbara, she would have poured a coat of paint on the inside and the outside of the building. But it wasn't her decision to make, nor her place.

  "I am new to the area, Sheriff, and just thought I would stop in and say hello."

  "Well it's a privilege to have such a pretty lady stop by.” Barbara blushed at his kind words. “What's your name?"

  "Barbara Lane."

  "You staying with family?"

  "Not exactly. My father died recently and I inherited his mining claim. So I am staying with his partner, Vincent Waverly."

  "Ah, good man. With him looking out after you, you shouldn't have any trouble round these parts, but if you ever need any help, you can be sure to find me. I am the only law ‘round these parts and keep the order and the peace. Not that we have too much trouble, most of the people are good people. We have a few ranchers, and a few cowboys, but most of the people are miners. It's not like we have too many outlaws to deal with. Just a few claim jumpers now and then."

  Claim jumpers? Barbara hoped she never had to deal with claim jumpers. If anyone ever wanted her mine, they could just have it. They would not have to take it at gunpoint. “Well, that makes me feel at ease. But I was not here to talk to you about that kind of business ... I was actually here to see if you knew anyone who might be interested in a mining claim."

  "A mining claim? You don't mean old Buster's mining claim, do you? He was one of the poorest miners around. He hasn't had a strike for years. No offense, ma'am, but I think you won't be able to give that claim away. Anyone can go register a mining claim and it's not expensive to go make one of their own. Fact is, unless you do make some kind of a gold strike, I don't think you will be able to sell it to anyone."

  Barbara's hopes fell to pieces, and she could feel her stomach clench in frustration. She wouldn't be able to give this claim away? She would never be able to get out of this situation. Once again she mentally cursed her father for putting her in his will. Then instantly she felt a little guilty. It wasn't her father's fault she was in this mess. She was the one who made this decision to come all the way out to California. “Well, thank you for your time, Sheriff. You have been very helpful."

  "No problem at all, ma'am.” Seeing she was on her way out, he stood up and walked her to the door, holding it open for her as any gentleman would.

  Now that she had talked to the sheriff, Barbara almost gave up hope on selling the useless piece of paper she owned. She was going to be stuck with that mining claim and Vincent for the rest of her life. Somehow the thought of being stuck with Vincent didn't upset her as much as it should. She could almost imagine them slipping into some sort of happy routine, filled with normal everyday events, sharing them as any couple would share their life.

  It would be far too easy to make believe they were married and possibly slip into becoming his lover as well.

  God, what was she thinking? She could never become his lover, or she would only be his mistress.

  Oh, well.

  She should probably spend some time looking at dresses, even if she couldn't afford the extravagance, so she could be truthful when she said she left to look at dresses today. She should at least know the latest style or be able to tell him what she looked at if he questioned her. So she made her way to the dressmaker shop first.

  The large glass window displayed the latest styles from back East. Three female mannequins were lined up in dresses with sleek lines and full skirts, all of them modest, but there was one that caught Barbara's eye. The creamy material was a mixture of satin and lace. It was the most beautiful wedding dress that Barbara had ever seen. Pearl buttons made a neat row lining the back of the dress. It was form fitting around the chest and down to the waist, but the skirts were full falling to the floor.

  It was not as if she was looking for a wedding dress, but she had an urge to go in and look at it. It looked like it could fit, which was unusual to find. With her large chest size, it had always been difficult shopping for clothes. Even the simplest of garments would have to be ordered too large or custom fitted. Her mother had helped her to make many of her clothes, since cost was always an issue.

  Perhaps in the future, she would have the opportunity to buy it. One day Barbara would get married and she hoped to be married in something as beautiful as this dress. It would look as if made just for her.

  She entered the small shop, the door clanged shut behind her, and the bell rang as she entered. She could hear the shopkeeper hurry to the front of the store to help her customer. Barbara wasn't in a hurry. She walked through racks of material and racks of men and women's clothing to see the chiffon creation in the window that had caught her eye.

  Barbara lifted the tag that hung from the dress, examining the price tag. She bit her lip in consternation, a frown wrinkling her smooth forehead. Just as she had thought, the dress was too expensive for her. At least for now.

  "May I help you?” A sugary sweet voice came from behind her.

  Barbara turned around to find the shopkeeper there staring at her. She was a round woman, much shorter than Barbara, but seemingly friendly.

  "Thank you, I am new to the town and just thought I would look at your dresses."

  "Oh, really? What brings you to our little town?"

  "Nothing much—just work."

  The woman's gaze turned speculative. “There's not a certain man in your life to want a wedding dress?"

  "Not really."

  "So what you need is a dress to work in?"

  "Well I don't really need a dress at the moment, but I suppose...” It wouldn't hurt to find something more durable, but Barbara had been thinking of using men's clothes more than buying another dress. Vincent's denim pants seemed to hold up well to the everyday wear.

  "Oh, my. I have just the thing for you, miss. We get a lot of women here that come for dresses for their work. We have quite a selection.” The little woman made her way to the back of the shop, opening a door to another room that was full of some of the brightest clothing that Barbara had ever seen. Feathered boas and fancy hats, exotic feathers and sequined dresses, lined the walls. Almost every dress was cut low and revealing, with Barbara's bust line she would be showing far more skin than made her comfortable.

  But fitting into the dresses wouldn't be a problem, she knew as she looked around the room her mouth, still agape in her shock. She had just been taken into the back room of the dress shop and the shopkeeper had mistaken her for a woman of ... oh, God.

  Barbara's face was bright red as she hissed out, “I don't know what you think I do for a living, but I am no whore."

  "Oh, I am sorry.” The woman's face reddened after Barbara laid into her. Which made Barbara feel apologetic for a moment. “But I thought that was what you meant when you said you came to town for work. Many ladies travel through here and it is the only real job in town for a lady such as yourself."

  "A lady such as myself?” Barbara was indignant with outrage at the remark. She was trying to prevent being thought of as a harlot, or a mistress. She did her best to maintain a decent reputation, counting on it if she wanted to marry for love, but people had always made assumptions about her just because of the size of her breasts.