make her life unbearable.
While craving Hazard with a wanton desire bordering on obsession, Lucy was not prepared to relinquish her place with her husband and his three million dollars. After all, George couldn't live forever, and beautiful and ardent as Jon was, he was, by contrast, virtually penniless. Sighing heavily, she looked up through tear-splashed lashes and quietly said, "I know, Jon, you're right. I just want you so and you're going away tomorrow. Couldn't you stay another day?"
His mind quickly negotiated all the urgencies and obligations of his schedule against Lucy's tears, desires, her unnerving lack of discretion under stress. With an accepting smile he capitulated. "I can't stay another day, but I could postpone my departure until afternoon. How would that be?"
"Oh, Jon," she cried, her face alive with happiness. "Would you?"
He nodded once, saying in a gentle voice, "I'll be waiting for you tomorrow morning. Come whenever you can get away."
She laughed, triumphant as a captive let loose. "I'll be there at the break of dawn. That way I'll have you longer."
He smiled at her enthusiasm. "One thing, Lucy," he softly admonished, gently unlacing her hands from his neck and placing them in his own. "Take care, will you. A little prudence wouldn't be out of place. If I don't have to keep one eye on the door, I can devote more attention to you."
"I promise, sweetheart. I'll be caution itself. No one will even know I'm at the hotel."
"That would be nice, love, because today everyone sure as hell knew." He bent, softly kissed her lips, and then, opening the door, lightly pushed her through. "Get back to your guests. I'll see you in the morning."
Turning, she blew him a kiss and obediently returned to the ballroom.
Hazard leaned heavily against the door and slowly exhaled. A very touchy disaster had been averted. He'd rather not be forced to shoot the Chief Justice, judicial justice on the frontier being what it was and prejudice against the Indians escalating in direct proportion to the white man's greed for land and gold. Taking out a cigar, he struck a match, lit it, and lazily drew in the smoke. It was peaceful out here. The summer night was perfection and he needed a moment for the adrenaline levels to return to normal. He was thankful Lucy was so easily assuaged. The hysterical tone of her note had alarmed him; he had feared some public scene or impossible demand. While Lucy was an undeniable pleasure in bed, that was all she was, and for a disquieting moment he'd been afraid she was about to demand something foolish.
Recalling the swing in the corner, he decided to sit outside, smoke his cigar, and allow Lucy time to recircu-late in the ballroom before reappearing himself. Summer moonlight rimmed and illuminated the tall man as he strolled toward the dimly lit corner of the veranda. Reaching the extremity of the alcove, he stopped dead, a sliver of moonlight illuminating his face. "Hell," said Jon Hazard under his breath, "bloody hell." Snatching the cigar from his mouth, he growled caustically, "Not only a stupid bitch, I see, but an eavesdropping one as well. I hope you were pleasantly diverted."
Sitting on the swing, shimmering white and pale in her silk gown, Blaze stiffened at his words and a thousand seed pearls glistened like fireflies in the moonlight. "I did not intentionally eavesdrop," she curtly replied. "If you could have kept your lecherous hands off the chief justice's wife for a few seconds," she witheringly continued, "I would have made myself known when you first arrived, made my excuses, and left. It's your own goddamned fault."
There was a hostile silence. The profanity checked his response momentarily. It might have been better phrased, he thought, but at least it reminded him of what she was. He had forgotten that beneath the simmering silk and shapely form was an imperious temperament. He had never been kicked by a woman
While craving Hazard with a wanton desire bordering on obsession, Lucy was not prepared to relinquish her place with her husband and his three million dollars. After all, George couldn't live forever, and beautiful and ardent as Jon was, he was, by contrast, virtually penniless. Sighing heavily, she looked up through tear-splashed lashes and quietly said, "I know, Jon, you're right. I just want you so and you're going away tomorrow. Couldn't you stay another day?"
His mind quickly negotiated all the urgencies and obligations of his schedule against Lucy's tears, desires, her unnerving lack of discretion under stress. With an accepting smile he capitulated. "I can't stay another day, but I could postpone my departure until afternoon. How would that be?"
"Oh, Jon," she cried, her face alive with happiness. "Would you?"
He nodded once, saying in a gentle voice, "I'll be waiting for you tomorrow morning. Come whenever you can get away."
She laughed, triumphant as a captive let loose. "I'll be there at the break of dawn. That way I'll have you longer."
He smiled at her enthusiasm. "One thing, Lucy," he softly admonished, gently unlacing her hands from his neck and placing them in his own. "Take care, will you. A little prudence wouldn't be out of place. If I don't have to keep one eye on the door, I can devote more attention to you."
"I promise, sweetheart. I'll be caution itself. No one will even know I'm at the hotel."
"That would be nice, love, because today everyone sure as hell knew." He bent, softly kissed her lips, and then, opening the door, lightly pushed her through. "Get back to your guests. I'll see you in the morning."
Turning, she blew him a kiss and obediently returned to the ballroom.
Hazard leaned heavily against the door and slowly exhaled. A very touchy disaster had been averted. He'd rather not be forced to shoot the Chief Justice, judicial justice on the frontier being what it was and prejudice against the Indians escalating in direct proportion to the white man's greed for land and gold. Taking out a cigar, he struck a match, lit it, and lazily drew in the smoke. It was peaceful out here. The summer night was perfection and he needed a moment for the adrenaline levels to return to normal. He was thankful Lucy was so easily assuaged. The hysterical tone of her note had alarmed him; he had feared some public scene or impossible demand. While Lucy was an undeniable pleasure in bed, that was all she was, and for a disquieting moment he'd been afraid she was about to demand something foolish.
Recalling the swing in the corner, he decided to sit outside, smoke his cigar, and allow Lucy time to recircu-late in the ballroom before reappearing himself. Summer moonlight rimmed and illuminated the tall man as he strolled toward the dimly lit corner of the veranda. Reaching the extremity of the alcove, he stopped dead, a sliver of moonlight illuminating his face. "Hell," said Jon Hazard under his breath, "bloody hell." Snatching the cigar from his mouth, he growled caustically, "Not only a stupid bitch, I see, but an eavesdropping one as well. I hope you were pleasantly diverted."
Sitting on the swing, shimmering white and pale in her silk gown, Blaze stiffened at his words and a thousand seed pearls glistened like fireflies in the moonlight. "I did not intentionally eavesdrop," she curtly replied. "If you could have kept your lecherous hands off the chief justice's wife for a few seconds," she witheringly continued, "I would have made myself known when you first arrived, made my excuses, and left. It's your own goddamned fault."
There was a hostile silence. The profanity checked his response momentarily. It might have been better phrased, he thought, but at least it reminded him of what she was. He had forgotten that beneath the simmering silk and shapely form was an imperious temperament. He had never been kicked by a woman
Similar Books
