Desperado's Gold Read online

  She wasn’t adept at seduction, and that was a fact. He’d ignored her advances, ignored the sexy nightgown … ignored her. Even tonight, as they’d sat at the round table in the back of Alberta’s saloon. Neither of them drank a drop of Alberta’s whiskey, though filled glasses had been placed on their table. He didn’t insist that she mingle, so she’d stayed there beside him, grateful for the protection of his company and … to be honest … the chance to spend a little more time close to him.

  That was when she’d decided to try, one more time, to convince Jackson to make love to her. Catalina sighed and plopped down on the edge of the big bed. What was wrong with her that she had to work so hard to get a man to touch her?

  Kim would know what to do, but that didn’t do Catalina any good. Funny, but she didn’t think of Kim as a person yet to be born, but as a friend in another place. Living her life as Catalina did her own, wondering what had become of her best friend and ex-roommate.

  Men adored Kim. She always had admirers calling and sending flowers, leaving messages on the answering machine, even after they’d been unceremoniously dumped for some minor infraction. And the thing of it was, Catalina knew, even though she loved her friend like a sister, that Kim wasn’t beautiful. She was cute, even pretty at times, but she wasn’t beautiful. She had the difficult-to-define it, an air that attracted men no matter what she said or did. Catalina knew that whatever that air was, she didn’t have it.

  With a sigh, Catalina stretched out on the bed and threw her arms over her head. This was her last chance. Tomorrow she would be gone, and she might never again meet a man who made her feel the way Jackson did. It had taken her twenty-seven years — and an incredible journey — to find him. What if he was the one? The only one?

  Jackson opened the door so quietly that he had entered the room before Catalina knew he was there. He looked startled when she lifted her head, and for a moment she thought he was going to leave again, step into the hall without a word and close that door on her.

  But instead he closed and locked the door, keeping his back to her. “It’s late,” he grumbled. “You should be asleep.”

  “I’m not tired,” Catalina said, sitting up and self-consciously righting her nightgown’s low neckline.

  “Neither am I.” Jackson sat in the chair he normally placed beneath the doorknob, making every effort not to look in her direction.

  “You’re not going to sit up all night, are you?” The question sounded silly and juvenile and terribly transparent, and she knew it as soon as the words left her mouth.

  Jackson didn’t answer her, but thrust his legs out, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes. As though she wasn’t even in the room. Invisible. Insignificant.

  Catalina rose slowly and silently. Jackson must not have heard her, because he didn’t move, didn’t tell her to get back into bed. She took tiny steps, quiet ones on bare feet, until she stood behind him.

  When she rested her hands on his shoulders Catalina thought Jackson would come straight up out of his chair. He all but jumped, and his skin twitched beneath her fingers. She didn’t step back, or move her hands away from him, but instead dug her fingers into his muscle, kneading lightly, rubbing her thumbs against the back of his neck.

  “You’re very tense,” she said softly, rotating her thumbs against rigid muscle.

  “It’s late,” he grumbled. “Get to sleep.”

  “I told you I’m not tired.” Catalina continued the massage, working her thumbs slowly up to the hairline and back down again. It wasn’t doing any good. Jackson’s muscles were just as tight as they’d been when she’d started. Maybe even tighter.

  “Get to bed, Catalina,” he ordered.

  She leaned forward, placing her mouth close to his shoulder. “Not alone.”

  She could feel it, the stilling breath he took, the cold control that washed over his whole body. “I told you, Catalina. I don’t … ”

  “Don’t say it,” she snapped, pulling her hands away from his neck and shoulders. “I know quite well where you stand on sleeping with inexperienced women.”

  “Listen.” Jackson didn’t turn around to look at her, but leaned his head forward slightly and placed two fingers at his temples. “You don’t have to do this just to convince me to take you away from Baxter. I already told you I’ll take you with me when I go.”

  “That’s not why … I’m glad, but that’s not why I want you to make love to me.”

  Jackson didn’t move, didn’t answer.

  Catalina walked quickly to the dresser and picked up one of the keys to the blue room. “If my virginity is really such an obstacle, perhaps I should have it taken care of. Shouldn’t be too much trouble to find a man who would be willing to handle that chore. After all, this is a bordello. If there’s no one left downstairs. I’ll just go door-to-door, knocking until I find a customer who will be accommodating. Perhaps Harold Goodman is around. Alberta said he was real quick.” The key wouldn’t slip into the lock, and Catalina realized that her hands were trembling. The key scraped against the doorknob as she jabbed at the keyhole, missing and taking aim again.

  Finally the key slid into the lock, but before Catalina could twist the key Jackson’s hand was covering her wrist.

  “Don’t,” he whispered silkily.

  “Why the hell not?” She hadn’t intended for her voice to tremble as her hands did, but her fear and her anger were clear, even to her own ears.

  “You’re shaking.” His fingers caressed her wrist, and he moved his lips close to her ear. “You don’t want to do this, Catalina.” He placed a gentle pressure on her wrist, and the key slipped from the lock.

  “I don’t want to, but I will if I have to.” Her voice was a bit stronger, but still she knew Jackson would question her resolve. She did. It was just a bluff, delivered in anger. She wouldn’t have gotten three steps down the hallway.

  Jackson took the key from her, and she let it slip from her fingers. When he turned her in his arms she pivoted with her head down. He was going to put her to bed and he was going to sit up in that damned chair all night.

  “Why are you doing this to me, Catalina?” he whispered, his voice free of anger.

  “Just forget it,” Catalina mumbled. She had never been more embarrassed, felt more rejected, not even when Wilson had left her at the altar.

  Jackson cupped her chin and forced her to look at him. His fingers brushed her face, and he pressed her back against the door. He was bringing his face to hers, parting his lips to kiss her, but he stopped a heartbeat away.

  “Are you going to flip me onto my back this time?” he asked smoothly.

  Catalina shook her head slightly.

  “Will you tell me fairy tales about knights and princes and 1996?”

  She shook her head again, a faint gesture.

  Jackson kissed her then, brushed his lips against hers and wrapped his arms tightly around her. Catalina worked her arms around his neck and held him close, parting her lips as Jackson continued to kiss her, deeper and more completely with every passing heartbeat. His hands began to dance over her body, fingers brushing over her back, her arms, her hips, and with every touch, with every shared breath, Catalina was more certain that this was the man she’d waited for.

  He lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed, brushing his lips against her throat and, once, under her chin. Jackson gently set her on the bed and began to work the ties that held the nightgown closed across her breasts.

  She wanted to tell him that he was her magic, the man she had dreamed of all her life. Most of all, she wanted to tell him that she loved him.

  But she didn’t dare. Tomorrow morning she would be gone. There was no other way.

  Jackson ran his fingers over her nipples and cupped her breasts as he bent to kiss her again, and Catalina almost came off the bed, the pull was so powerful.

  “I’ve waited too long for you, Catalina,” he whispered as he undressed, never moving far from her. “It won’t be the way I�
�d like for it to be … this first time.”

  When he took her in his arms and pressed his warm, naked body against hers, Catalina closed her eyes and tried to drink him in, to revel in his touch. How could he be so warm, and so hard? So calm while his heart beat as hard as hers? His breath was heavy and fast in her ear, and still it seemed he never lost control.

  Jackson lay on top of her, pressing her into the mattress, kissing her deeply while he spread her thighs. His lips never left hers, even as he drove deeply into her, quickly, easily, with just a moment of pain. And then he was still, filling her body and soul, making her whole.

  When he began to move again it was with slow deliberation, and each movement made her body quiver. He thrust his tongue deep within her mouth as he moved even faster, and Catalina lifted her hips to take him.

  He shuddered and shook and held her tightly, and then his breathing returned almost to normal. Jackson rolled onto his side and brought her with him, so that her head rested in the crook of his shoulder. Perfectly, Catalina thought.

  “Next time,” he whispered into her ear, “will be better for you.”

  Catalina snuggled against him, but she couldn’t chase away the chill. They wouldn’t have another time. Still, for now there was nothing as satisfying as lying with Jackson.

  “We could leave tonight,” she whispered, “while it’s still dark.”

  Jackson groaned, but just a little. “A few more days, Catalina, darlin’. A few more days.” He was drifting off to sleep, mumbling something she couldn’t quite understand. Once, she was almost positive she heard the word mine.

  Mine. All mine. The same thought he’d fallen asleep with was with him when he opened his eyes. Catalina was curled against his side, her legs tangled with his, a less than perfectly satisfied expression on her face. He brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes so he could see her better. Never in his life had he felt possessive about a woman. Never. But when Catalina had stood trembling at the door and threatened to go to another man he had known what it felt like to want something so badly he ached deep inside.

  She hadn’t meant it, and he knew that. After a momentary flash of white-hot anger he had recognized and understood the truth. That she wouldn’t allow another man to touch her. That she wanted him to be the man she had waited her whole life for.

  She wouldn’t regret it. For tonight, and maybe for a few days more, she was his. He didn’t believe in forever, and thankfully Catalina hadn’t spoken of love or asked for promises.

  He ran his hand slowly down her side, over her hip. He’d never felt skin so smooth, never seen a shape so perfect. Of course, he’d never actually slept with a woman he’d bedded before, either. It seemed so … intimate.

  Catalina stirred beneath his hand and cuddled against him even closer, pressing her face to his side. He didn’t want her to regret being his for a short time. He wanted to watch her come apart in his arms, to experience the same pleasure he had.

  His hand settled over her breast and lingered there, his fingers brushing lightly over the silky skin, his thumb rocking against the nipple that responded immediately. Catalina stirred, and Jackson slid his hand lower, over a flat belly to rest between her thighs.

  Her eyes opened slowly, fluttering as she turned her face to his.

  Jackson gave her a smile that she returned sleepily.

  When he lowered his head to take a taut nipple in his mouth she sucked in her breath and held it. He raised his lips to hers and kissed her, slow and fast and slow again, until she was on the edge of a new wonder.

  Only then did he thrust into her, joining with her in a way that he knew — in a final lucid thought — was different from anything he had ever known. And he felt, at that moment, as though he had been as naive and untouched as Catalina, until he’d found her. Until she’d found him. Until she’d opened herself to him.

  She lurched under him, throwing her head back and lifting her hips to take all of him. And then Jackson lost himself in the only pure and real beauty he had ever known.

  Mine. All mine.

  Catalina dressed quietly, slipping into the tan dress she’d worn the day Jackson had taken her with him to meet Doc Booker. She stepped into the black boots easily, silently, watching Jackson for some sign that he heard her.

  She’d awakened to find that she’d slept too late, much later than she’d intended. She’d stayed awake half the night waiting for Jackson, and he’d managed to keep her awake for most of the remainder of it.

  As much as she’d wanted that one night with Jackson, it only made it harder for her to leave.

  Fully dressed, the wulfenite tucked into a deep pocket, Catalina stood over the bed. For the first time since she’d met him there was peace etched on Jackson’s face. He didn’t look as if he could come awake and aware in less than a heartbeat; he was deep asleep, his bearded face buried in a pillow.

  If he opened his eyes and caught her there, she wouldn’t be able to leave. He would take that decision away from her. For a moment she willed it, as hard as she could. For him to wake, to make her stay with him. To take her in his arms and make love to her as he had last night. With passion and power and beauty.

  After a moment Catalina silently backed away from the bed. It was selfish and foolish and deadly for her to wish for Jackson to wake and hold her there. She was doing this for him, trying to give him a chance for survival. It was all she could do for him.

  “Good-bye, Jackson,” she mouthed the words as she stood by the door with the key in her hand. She didn’t dare say a word aloud, or touch his shoulder, or kiss him. It was for the best. “I do love you.”

  She had hoped to find the ground floor deserted, but Alberta and her moose of a bartender were cleaning up from last night, and they both eyed her suspiciously as she came down the stairs. She couldn’t allow either of them to accompany her, or to follow her. They had to know she was coming back.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Alberta snapped as Catalina headed for the batwing doors.

  Catalina spun and gave Alberta what she hoped was an impatient glance with no apprehension. “The Kid asked me to pick up a couple of things for him at the general store.”

  “Oh, really?” Alberta obviously didn’t believe her. “Perhaps I should check with him.”

  Catalina smiled. “Go right ahead. But I warn you, he’s trying to get a little extra sleep this morning, and he can be quite a bear when he’s disturbed.”

  Alberta hesitated. In spite of her bravado, she was still a little afraid of Kid Creede. “Milo.” She turned to the silent bartender. “Go with her.”

  “Well,” Catalina stepped forward, a single step toward Alberta. “If he’s going to be watching me, you can watch the Kid. I won’t be gone long, and you can tell that bitch Juanita that if I find her anywhere near my room when I get back, I’ll snatch her bald-headed.”

  Alberta’s smirk only made her look older and less attractive, but the satisfaction was evident on her face and in her relaxed stance. “I’ll pass that warning along, if necessary.”

  Milo followed her out the door, but he no longer seemed suspicious of her motives. He and Alberta fully expected her to hurry with her chore and rush back to Kid Creede before Juanita could get her claws into him.

  The bartender dogged her steps through the general store, and Catalina picked up odds and ends. Canned goods, tobacco, a clean shirt. Goodness knows Jackson could use a new shirt. She chose a white one, in spite of his apparent penchant for black. Window dressing, she’d decided, like the hair and the beard and the attitude he wore like that flapping duster.

  She waited until there was another customer at the counter, and then she stepped forward. From there she could see Alberta’s, and she cocked her head so she could see through the window and to the second-and third-floor balconies, deserted at this time of day.

  “I knew it!” she spat, and then she turned to dump her purchases in Milo’s arms. “I see that tramp on my balcony.” She glanced back and duc
ked down to see the building more clearly. “Now she’s gone inside! I’ll kill her; I swear I will. That … that … ” She looked at the storekeeper and the customer who had turned their heads to stare, wide-eyed, at her. “That hussy.”

  She spun away and stalked for the door. “Have those purchases tallied up and put on the Kid’s bill,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

  A quick glance over her shoulder revealed a confused Milo standing there with the goods in his hands. Confused, but not worried. He wouldn’t drop the purchases and run after her.

  Catalina was out the door and down the boardwalk in less than a minute. There was an alleyway that ran between the general store and a small cafe, and she ducked in there before anyone could see her.

  She didn’t have a lot of time. Milo would have the storekeeper tally her purchases, and then he would no doubt deliver them to her room. He’d wake up Jackson, and then they would both know that she was missing. She’d better be gone by the time Jackson and Milo got together.

  Like it or not, she was going to have to steal a horse. She’d always heard that was a hanging offense in the West, but there was nothing to be done for it. She had to get out of town in a hurry, and get as far away from Baxter as possible. Back to the place where Jackson had found her? Could she return to 1996? Did she really want to?

  Catalina fingered the wulfenite that was tucked into the deep pocket. She wasn’t certain it was necessary for the journey back … wasn’t even certain she could return. But it had been a part of the magic that had brought her to 1896; of that she was certain.

  Standing in the alley, she looked across the street and to the balcony of her room at Alberta’s bordello. Jackson slept on, unaware that she was leaving. Would he be angry or relieved? She had a strong suspicion that he would consider himself well rid of her. All she could do now was pray that he’d get out of Baxter, and fast.