Johanna Lindsey - Savage Thunder

Vanessa might have complained that they would be traveling for weeks, but she had been joking. The truth was, neither of them had ever heard of Wyoming before Billy Ewing had mentioned it, and all they knew about it was that it was "up north." Silver City, according to the hotel clerk, was in the southwestern half of New Mexico, and what with the winter months approaching, the time and distance they had yet to travel had become a matter of some concern, especially when Jocelyn needed to be settled someplace before her mares were ready to foul in the spring.

So she had a good excuse for demanding Colt's presence. And if he was crass enough to make some comment about the way she was attired, well, she had an excuse ready for that too. The late hour, fatigue from the long day, and the assumption that he wasn't coming, since she had sent for him hours ago.

Actually, Pearson and Sidney had only just been dispatched to find him and send him to her room.

Vanessa had insisted that the scene be completely set beforehand, in case they located Colt immediately.

Jocelyn could not fault that reasoning, or the atmosphere Vanessa had helped to create. The rnussed-up bed, as if Jocelyn had already been in it; all but one lamp extinguished, and that one dim. But the crowning touch was herself, bathed and perfumed and draped in shimmering satin so thin, it was utterly in-decent.

She would not have chosen this particular negligee if left to herself, but she bowed to Vanessa's judgment since she was more experienced in these matters. It was new, created by a French modiste they had discovered in New York, and ordered on a whim after Jocelyn had met Charles Abington and matrimony had first entered her mind. A lime green that was almost the exact color of her eyes, the gown was simplicity itself, gathered at the shoulders, clinging to waist and hips, without trim, and with a loosely draped neck-line so low that the material only covered her breasts as long as she remained in an upright position. The matching long-sleeved robe was bordered with white lace, but had not a single clasp or tie to close it with, not even a belt, since its purpose was not to conceal the gown, but to teasingly frame it.

The final touch was her hair, freshly washed and brushed until its shine rivaled that of the satin. It was left unconfined to flow as it would, down her back or over her shoulders, depending on her movements.

"He saw it like this when you met, but you mark my words," Vanessa had told her after she finished brushing those flaming locks herself. "Tonight he won't be able to resist finding out if it burns to the touch."

Only Jocelyn had not been reassured, had instead remembered that Colt's fingers had already been in her hair, painfully; and along with the nervous ex-citement she was feeling, there was a certain amount of trepidation. But she couldn't deny she wanted Colt Thunder, so she was willing to risk all on the hope that tonight would be different from those other times she had been alone with him. Tonight he would be the gentle lover she had dreamed about ever since she had made the decision, a few hours after meeting him, that he would be the one to introduce her to lovemak-ing. If she allowed the uncertainty to intrude, she would never, have the courage to open the door when he knocked.

Waiting for that knock had her jumping at the slightest little sound, especially as the minutes turned into hours and the town outside her window quieted. The servants must be having trouble locating him. She should have anticipated that. But one of them would find him, and then he would come immediately, which could be any second now.

So she kept telling herself, increasing her agitation, not by slow degrees, but in leaps and bounds as she walked to the window to look out on the sloping roof of the hotel porch, then over to the bed made up in her own silk sheets. Here she would try to sit, but after a breath or two she was up and moving about, over to the full-length mirror that threw back a reasonably clear image of a pale young woman who looked totally alien to her. She would slap her cheeks for some color, then be off again, over to the door to see if she could hear footsteps approaching, then back to the window to start the whole process once more.

Unfortunately, it was not a very large room, though she had been told it was the largest to be had. No suites here, and only two floors of rooms, so not all of her people had been accommodated, some sent to the boardinghouse down the street, some electing to stay with the vehicles. Because she couldn't have the whole floor to herself, a guard was stationed outside her door, but she never heard a peep from him when she listened there, again, and again, and again.

If Colt didn't show up soon, she was going to be a nervous wreck when he did, and how then would she convince him she was surprised to see him, that she had been "sleeping"? Blast the man, what was taking…?

It felt as if her belly dropped several inches when the knock finally sounded, and all she could do was stare at the door, immobilized by a total loss of com-posure, not to mention courage. So when the door unexpectedly opened to reveal Vanessa instead of Colt, Jocelyn's relief was so great she nearly col-lapsed with it.

"I'm sorry, dear," Vanessa said in a whisper before she closed the door, then added in a more normal, though regretful tone, "They've looked everywhere, the other lodging houses, the saloons, the — ah — more unsavory establishments. He's being true to form, as elusive as he was on the trail. Not even his brother has seen him since we arrived in town.", "It's all right, Vana. We'll be here a few days. We can try again tomorrow."

"You're taking this awfully well. I would be spit-ting mad, after all the preparation—"

"What preparation?" Jocelyn grinned in her relief. "It's not as if I spent hours dressing for a ball. I prepared myself for bed—"

"You prepared yourself for a man, which is not the same thing at all." But then the countess added knowingly, "Was it so terrible, the waiting?"

"Excruciating." Jocelyn laughed. "There is much to be said for spontaneity."

"And much more to be said for a well-planned seduction," Vanessa retorted. "You've tried sponta-neity without results, if you'll recall."

"True, so I'll try it your way again. Perhaps it will get easier with practice." Again she laughed, for the sheer pleasure of having all her senses back to nor-mal, but there was a discordant note to it too, as if the disappointment was there and she was deliber-ately ignoring it.

Vanessa suspected as much and so made light of it. "Perhaps we can come up with a better strategy for tomorrow night. After all, a soft bed and a private room do wonders for inspiration, as opposed to a tent that might as well have ears and does have a good dozen pair of eyes trained to watch it at all times, or to the great outdoors." She made a face and a dis-gusting sound. "Let me tell you, you do not want to dally out of doors, no matter how private you think you might be."

"You speak from experience, of course?"

"Well, naturally. Besides nasty insects that just adore bare flesh, you are at the mercy of the weather, and in this part of the country what have you but dust, dirt, and grime to spread your blanket on. And I'll tell you a secret, love. No matter how thick that blan-ket is, there's going to be a rock, a stick, or something directly under your backside to quite detract from the mood. And then there are the wild beasts you must contend with."

A giggle slipped out. "Wild beasts, Vana?"

"Well, there was this rabbit once, only I thought it was my head gardener. It scared me half to death."

Jocelyn burst out laughing. "Now you go too far."

"Now I happen to be serious. I was afraid the old man would die of shock."

"After all those wild weekend parties you told me about, where half the couples who got lost in your maze were married to the other half? Your head gar-dener must have witnessed enough illicit trysts over the years for nothing to shock him."

"But, my dear, my lover at the time happened to be his strapping young son."

"Oh."

"Exactly."

They stared at each other for half a second before they both laughed. When Jocelyn caught her breath, she was smiling fondly at her dear friend. "Thank you. I was taking this seduction too seriously, wasn't I?"

"A trifle. He's just a man, love, who's going to do you a needed service. that is, if you haven't changed your mind. There are other men you might want to consider now that we've returned to what can loosely be termed civilization."

"No. Colt is still-"

"Say no more." Vanessa sighed inwardly, but re-plied determinedly. "If he's the one you want, you shall have him. It won't be tonight, though, so to bed with you."

"They're no longer looking for him?"

"There's no point, as late as it is. No, I've sent the servants to bed too. Enjoy a good, long sleep. If your half-breed's as passionate as I suspect he is, you won't get much sleep tomorrow night."

"That's allowing he is seducible."

"With those weapons at your disposal?" Vanessa said, her eyes giving Jocelyn the once-over. She was smiling as she closed the door behind her.

Through the open window came the sound of boot-heels clicking softly along the boardwalk across the street, then the startled hiss, barely heard, "Jesus H. Christ, you scared the dickens out o' me, boy!" But there was no reply, and the boot clicking moved on at an even brisker pace. There was a bullfrog making a croaking racket somewhere, a distant sound, heard only when the piano player in one of the saloons down the street took a rest. The music was distant too, the player quite good, the sound soothing rather than dis-turbing. Every so often laughter was heard, but noth-ing loud enough to keep the town's inhabitants awake.

Jocelyn certainly couldn't blame the muted sounds for her own wakefiilness. Considering the number of times she had been awakened in the middle of the night recently by the shrill yapping of coyotes, or by one of her guards tripping on a tent stake as he pa-trolled the perimeter of her tent, and swearing a blue streak, these late-night town sounds were peaceful. But they weren't lulling her to sleep.

She had tried, but she was still too keyed up, think-ing about what could have happened tonight, and wondering about her relief that it didn't. She had con-cluded that this deliberate seduction business just wasn't her cup of tea. She would have to tell Vanessa, who was going to be disappointed. She had probably fallen asleep plotting tomorrow's strategy.

Jocelyn gave up and threw off the sheets. The room was exceedingly dark with the moon rising behind the hotel and her only window facing the front, but her eyes were adjusted enough for her to find the lamp and light it. She lowered the wick, however, to give off only a dim glow, enough to find her robe and cross to the window without mishap.

Drawing back the curtains, she was disappointed there was nothing to see. The moonlight was so bright now, what shadows it created were black as pitch. The porch roof was in shadow, and the railing at the edge that supported the hotel sign blocked her view of the street below. Moonlight revealed the buildings across the way clearly, at least the top half of them, but no windows were lit to draw her attention.

What she needed was a long walk to tire herself out. She was sure the guard outside her door wouldn't mind escorting her, but the thought of Sir Parker's outrage in the morning that she should venture out with only a minimum of protection kept her from doing it.

She sighed, annoyed with herself, annoyed with Colt, annoyed with her predicament. If it weren't for Longnose, she could have that walk. If she knew where Colt was, she wouldn't need it. If she didn't care, it wouldn't matter and sleep would have come easily. Blast.

How dare he disappear like that? What if they had to leave in a hurry, a very real possibility, considering how many times they had had to do so in the past?

But she was being unreasonable. With the way Colt scouted every day, he would have known if Longnose was close and would have said something. The Englishman was probably still looking for their trail back in Arizona. And to be honest, it was the fact that Colt was likely in some other woman's bed tonight that was bothering her enough to keep sleep away.

This wasn't helping. She would take that walk anyway and worry about Sir Parker later. But just as she turned from the window she heard a loud thump out in the hall, as if… as if a body had hit the floor. She stared at the door, then at her reticule clear across the room, and knew without a doubt that by the time she got her hands on her derringer inside it, the door would likely be opened and she would be out of luck. And the derringer was only good at close range. She would have to have it in hand and get behind the door to wait, but another glance at the door showed the handle starting to move.