The Outlaws: Rafe (9 page)

Rafe was like an immovable force.
 
"Tell me, Angel."

She sighed.
 
"Desmond."

Rafe whirled on Dexter, his face a mask of fury.
 
"If you ever touch Angel again, I'll personally see to your punishment.
 
Do you understand?"

"Devil take you!.
 
I don't even know you.
 
You have no right to threaten me."

"Let me introduce myself.
 
I'm Angel's husband.
 
Reverend Conrad married us in Ordway."

"You're lying!" Chandler shouted.
 
"Who are you?"

"The name's Gentry.
 
Rafe Gentry.
 
If you don't believe we're married, ask Angel."

"What's this all about, Angela?" Dexter asked.
 
"I know you, you'd never marry a common cowboy."

"You must not have known me as well as you thought," Angela charged.
 
"Rafe isn't lying.
 
We are indeed married, and we have the paper to prove it.
 
Show it to him, Rafe."

Rafe dug in his jacket pocket, retrieved a folded sheet of paper and handed it to Dexter.

"It's not legal!" Dexter shouted, tossing the document back to Rafe.
 
"I don't believe it.
 
Angela is promised to Anson Chandler, and by God she's going to marry him!"

"Over my dead body."

"Maybe that can be arranged," Dexter said with sly innuendo.

"You aren't man enough," Rafe said with deadly calm.
 
"Now if you'll excuse us, I'm going to see about a hotel room for the night.
 
It's too late to start up to the mine."

"Where is Reverend Conrad?" Dexter asked pugnaciously.

"On his way back to Wichita," Rafe returned.

"You won't get away with this, Gentry.
 
If you were married in Ordway, it shouldn't be too difficult to check out your story."

"Do whatever you have to do, Dexter, it won't change the fact that Angela and I are man and wife.
 
I strongly suggest you return East and leave Angela alone."

Grasping Angela's elbow, he steered her toward the wagon.

Fuming in impotent rage, Dexter watched them walk away.

"Do you believe them?" Chandler asked.

Dexter spit out a curse.
 
"I don't know what to believe but I'm damn well going to find out.
 
You stay here and keep an eye on them while I backtrack to Ordway.
 
Someone there should be able to tell me what I want to know without running down the preacher."

"Watching that cowboy with Angela isn't going to be easy," Chandler grumbled.
 
"He took what should have been rightfully mine.
 
Angela's going to pay for pulling that dirty trick on me."

"I'll get to the bottom of this, Chandler, and when it's sorted out, you'll have Angela and we'll both share her wealth.
 
Perhaps we can even get rid of Baxter Brady so we'll have it all."

They shook hands and parted company.

"Why are we going to the hotel?" Angela asked as Rafe guided her away from the livery, where they had boarded the horses and wagon for the night.

"We don't know the trail and it's getting dark.
 
We'll start out fresh in the morning."

"Very well, just be sure you rent two rooms."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

"Don't look now but we're being followed.
 
Your former fiancé is tailing us.
 
If we rent separate rooms he'll get suspicious.
 
You'll just have to put up with my company tonight, Angel."

Alarm settled low in Angela's stomach.
 
How much more of Rafe Gentry's company could she bear?
 
The man was a distraction she didn't need.
 
Granted he'd saved her from marrying Chandler, for she knew without a doubt that had Rafe not produced a marriage license she would have been dragged off and married against her will to a man she detested.

Worry gnawed at Angela as Rafe arranged for a room and signed the register.
 
She didn't really panic until Rafe unlocked the door and ushered her into their room.
 
She took one look at the bed and nearly bolted.

Would he expect her to sleep with him in that bed tonight?
 

Rafe dropped his saddlebags and Angela's small carpetbag he was carrying on the floor.
 
"I noticed a barber shop and bath house down the street."
 
He rubbed his chin.
 
"I could use a shave, haircut and bath.
 
I imagine you'd like a hot bath, too.
 
I'll order one up for you on my way out.
 
Bolt the door behind me and don't open it to anyone but the chambermaid or me."

"A bath sounds wonderful," Angela said, relieved that Rafe was going to let her bathe in private.

"There's a dining room in the hotel.
 
We'll eat when I return."

"Take your time," Angela said, waving him off.
 
"I'm going to have a long soak."

Hoisting his saddlebags over his shoulder, Rafe let himself out the door.
 
Angela bolted it behind him.
 
A short time later a chambermaid and pot boys arrived with tub, hot water, soap and thirsty bath towel.
 
Bolting the door behind them, she undressed quickly and sank into the steaming water.
 
It was pure bliss.
 
The first real bath she'd had since leaving Ordway.

Soap bubbles tickled her nose as she lathered her body, then her hair.
 
After rinsing, she lay back and rested her head against the rim.
 
There was an almost sensual quality to the soapy water sliding over her sensitive skin, something she would have never noticed before Rafe Gentry had awakened her body to passion, brief though it may have been.

She raised her leg and rested it on the side of the tub.
 
Then, unthinkingly, her fingers slid up the inside of her slippery thigh, mimicking the movement of Rafe's hand that day in the wagon when she'd fallen into his lap.
 
A tension began low in her belly as her fingers explored further, brushing the wreath of hair protecting her most private place.
 
A cry slipped past her lips, shamed by a sense of forbidden pleasure.

Trembling, she jerked her hand away.
 
She couldn't believe what was happening.
 
This was wicked.
 
Wanton.
 
How could she, a pious church member and choir director, even think about self-gratification, much less attempt it.
 
Her face flamed.
 
It was all Rafe Gentry's fault.
 
She'd known nothing of sexual matters, nothing of desire, until Rafe entered her life.

Suddenly aware of the cooling water, Angela got out of the tub, dried herself and dressed in a clean chemise, white, long-sleeved blouse that buttoned to her neck, and plain brown skirt.
 
She'd brought nothing fancy with her, for Reverend Conrad had insisted that Sister Angela dress simply and demurely.

Angela was pulling the comb through her unruly hair when a knock sounded on the door.

"Who is it?"

"Rafe, open up."

She unbolted the door and Rafe sauntered inside, dressed in a spotless linen shirt and buckskin trousers and jacket.
 
His face was newly shaved and his hair had been trimmed.
 
Angela swallowed hard.
 
He was so handsome the sight of him took her breath away.

"Are you ready for dinner," Rafe asked.

Angela wished she had something more colorful to wear but Rafe didn't seem to mind her somber attire as his gaze slid over her with obvious pleasure.

"Leave your hair down," he said.

"I didn't have time to put it up."

"It looks good just as it is."
 
He offered his arm.
 
"Let's eat.
 
I'm starved."

The dining room was crowded but a table was found for them.
 
Rafe ordered beefsteak and fried potatoes.
 
Angela preferred lamb and fresh peas.
 
Neither seemed inclined to talk as they devoured their food.
 
Angela passed on desert, preferring just coffee, while Rafe dug into a piece of chocolate cake as tall as Pikes peak.

"Let's stroll," Rafe suggested as they left the dining room.
 
"It's a warm night and the moon is full.'

Glad for the reprieve, Angela readily agreed.
 
She wasn't looking forward to sharing a room with Rafe for an entire night.

"What do you suppose Anson is doing now?" she asked, sending a cautious look over her shoulder.

Even before Rafe said, "He's following us," she saw him.
 
"I saw him in the dining room," Rafe added.
 
"He left when we did.
 
Ignore him."

Angela tried.
 
The night was so lovely, she thought as she filled her lungs with fresh mountain air.
 
She had missed this more than she realized.
 
If she had her way she'd spend the rest of her life in Colorado.
 
This was her destiny.

"What are you thinking?" Rafe asked, jarring her reverie.

"About how much I love it here," she said truthfully.
 
"I can't wait to see the mine again.
 
I vaguely remember it from my childhood.
 
I was happiest here, you know."

Rafe reached for her.
 
She gave a squeal of surprise as he pulled her into the shadow of a store awning and into his arms.
 
Beguiled by the magic of the soft night and starlit sky, she melted into his embrace, forgetting everything but the feel of his mouth moving over hers and the hardness of his body.
 
His tongue prodded urgently against her lips and she opened to him.
 
He kissed her until her body tingled and her head spun.
 
It seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss him back.

He was panting when he broke off the kiss.
 
He gave her a hard look, grasped her hand and dragged her back toward the hotel.

"What are you doing?"

His voice was gruff, impatient.
 
"Taking you back to our room.
 
I'd rather do this in a bed."

His words finally got through the sensual fog drifting aimlessly in her brain.
 
Panic-stricken, she pulled away.
 
"I...I don't know what got into me."

"I know what's
going
to get into you," Rafe growled as he pulled her roughly behind him.
 
"Me."

She considered digging in her heels, until she saw Chandler watching them with keen interest.
 
Rather than raise questions in Chandler's mind about the relationship between her and Rafe, she tripped along beside Rafe.
 
But once they were behind closed doors, she intended to tell Rafe exactly what she thought of him and his highhandedness.

Literally dragging her to their room, Rafe closed and bolted the door behind them.
 
His face was taut, his muscles tense.
 
The skin was stretched snugly over his cheekbones.
 
Angela could almost taste his desire, and it frightened her.
 
She felt suddenly vulnerable, too attuned to this man's lust for her own good.

Rafe said nothing as he tore off his shirt and jacket.
 
Then he reached for her.
 
That kiss in the street had unleashed something fierce and needy within him.
 
He recognized desire when he felt it and Angel had definitely wanted him.
 
Her body had softened against his and her mouth had opened to him.
 
That was all the invitation he needed.

"Let's get you out of those clothes," he gasped raggedly as he fumbled with the buttons holding her blouse together.
 
"I want you naked the first time I take you."

A jolt of reality tore through the sensual fog in Angela's brain.
 
She didn't want the same thing Rafe wanted.
 
After he got what he wanted from her he'd disappear and she'd never see him again.
 
What if he gave her a baby?
 
If she let him make love to her, she would never be able to forget him and move forward with her life.
 
He'd always be there in the background, taunting her with memories.
 
She couldn't bear it.

He had her blouse off and her chemise pulled down to her waist when Angela finally found the energy to protest.