California Caress

“I don’t want to go to Russia,” she replied absently, as her thumb grazed the prickly softness of his jaw. “Drake, now that Tubbs is dead, what are you going to do about Charles?” she asked cautiously. Her hand slipped down his neck, over the throbbing hollow in his throat, and down to the firm pillow of his chest. She tugged at a few wispy chest hairs to keep him awake.

Drake swatted her hand away. His green eyes narrowed as he looked at her. He opened his mouth to say something, then quickly snapped it shut again. Frowning, he took a deep breath, pursed his lips, and said finally, “That depends on you.”

“Me? Why? I haven’t got anything to do with this.”

“It’s a long, complicated story, sunshine,” he sighed, raking back the golden curls falling over his brow. He’d been hoping she would simply agree to help, no matter what the terms. He should have known Hope Bennett’s intense curiosity would never allow that.

Hope squinted into the flickering shadows, lingering on his tired profile. She wavered between the urge to reach out and stroke that sharp cheek, and the need to know as much about this man as he was willing to confide. In the end, the latter won out. “We’ve got all night. God knows, I’m not going anywhere.”

Drake nodded. His eyes clouded with thought as he averted his gaze to the fire. “You know, there was a time not too long ago when the only thing that kept me going from one mining town to the next was knowing that, one day, I’d get back everything that was rightfully mine. At the time, I wasn’t sure how I’d go about it. California gave me the answer.”

She gave in to the temptation in her fingers and reached out to caress that hardened cheek. When Drake seemed not to notice the contact, she let her hand drop back to his chest. “I don’t know, it seems to me like a long way to go for revenge.”

He shrugged. “Maybe, but Boston was too close. I was too well known, and everyone for miles knew how my grandfather had overlooked me in his will, leaving everything to Chuck. So I left. I didn’t know where I’d end up and I didn’t care.” His voice thickened with bitter memories. “As long as I had a bottle in front of me, I was happy. After six months, ten gunfights, and innumerable hangovers, I realized that about the only thing constant inebriation was going to get me was an early grave. It damn well wasn’t going to get my business back. I’d worked my way to somewhere in Ohio, I think, when I started hearing rumors about gold. In one of my more lucid moments I thought, ‘What the hell, California would be as good a place to pick up my life as any.’ At least I still had enough sense to know I couldn’t be worse off than I already was.”

Hope scowled. “So you traipsed all the way across the country for gold, but had no intention of staking a claim? I don’t see how you thought that would win your business back.”

“I planned to work the mines,” he said, placing his warm palm over hers. She could feel his heart drumming steadily beneath her fingertips. “I went with the same aspirations every other young man traveling to the gold mines had. The lure of a quick fortune is heady stuff, sunshine. Not many men can resist it. My resolve got me to San Francisco, but the second my feet hit the dirt, I stumbled into the first saloon I found. It didn’t take long to find out I could make more money off the gambling prospectors than I could swinging a pick or swirling a pan.” He shifted, his eyes darkening thoughtfully as he met her gaze. “Think about it, Hope. I would have been damn foolish to trade in my deck of cards for a canvas tent and shovel. In one day, I could haul in twice what the miners dug from the ground, with only half the effort.” A crooked grin twisted his lips. “I like to think of it as utilizing the abilities I have, but si

nce you worked a pan yourself, I’m sure you think I took the lazy man’s way out.”

“I didn’t say that,” she hedged. Sighing, she looked guiltily away. “I just don’t see where gambling and shooting could be less dangerous than mining the land.”

“Gambling,” Drake corrected gently. “The only time I used my gun in California was to save my miserable hide.” The sly, lopsided grin twisted his lips. “That was one nice thing about my drunken trek from coast to coast. My reputation may have been exaggerated, but it was well earned. Most men with half a grain of sense were smart enough to steer clear. They’d meet me across a gaming table, maybe share a glass or two, but that was all they’d have to do with me.”

“Sounds lonely,” Hope mused, tracing her fingertips down the thick pelt of curling hairs on his chest, over the rippling flesh of his tight stomach.

The brazenly inquisitive fingers made Drake suck in his breath. He slipped his hand over hers and pulled her fingers to his mouth. His lips were warm, his breath hot against her flesh. The stubble of whiskers coating his jaw scratched her open palm. The sensation held its own form of sensual appeal. With a ragged sigh, he plopped the hand back on his chest. While even that simple touch was distracting, his reaction to the contact wasn’t nearly as dramatic as when she was boldly stroking flesh.

“My solitude was self-imposed,” he continued, his voice a little more hoarse than before. “If anything, I enjoyed it. When I wasn’t playing cards, I had plenty of time to plot my revenge against Charles and Angelique. By then, two and a half years had slipped by. I suppose my desire for vengeance should have tapered off, mellowed, but it didn’t; it grew. Their betrayal ate at me night and day, like a festering wound that refused to heal. I couldn’t rest. Not until they’d paid for their deception, and I’d gotten back the company before my brother’s squandering ways ran it into the ground. Before I knew it, I not only had a plan, but I also had enough money to back it.”

“And then?” she asked softly.

“And then I met you.” The arm around her shoulder tightened. “I’m close now, sunshine. So close I can taste it.”

Hope squirmed, and Drake immediately loosened his grip. “I don’t see what any of this has to do with me. I don’t have influential friends in Boston, or anywhere else for that matter. And no money. I’m afraid I wouldn’t be too much help.”

“Not in that way, true,” he said, scratching his jaw thoughtfully. “But you have grace, elegance, and a beauty most women only dream of.”

Hope wasn’t entirely sure she believed his sweet words, but she let it pass. A dark eyebrow cocked high in her forehead. “So?”

His fingertips tapped the pert turn of her nose. “So, I have a proposition for you.”

“A proposition?” She stiffened, her dark eyes shimmering with suspicion. “What kind of proposition?”

“How much money would it take to pay the back taxes on your place in Virginia and rebuild your house?”

“I don’t know,” she stated flatly, her eyes narrow and cautious, “but it would be a lot. The house was completely destroyed, and no matter how hard I worked, it would take more than myself to get the fields cultivated again. All the servants we had were sold to pay what we could. A few stayed after we left, but I guess they’ve probably moved on by now.”

“How much?”

She settled on the most outrageous sum that sprang to mind. “Ten thousand dollars.”

Drake gave a low whistle and pulled a reluctant Hope back to his side when she tried to move away. “And what would you be willing to do to get your land back, sunshine? How far would you be willing to go?”

“I wouldn’t do anything illegal, if that’s what you mean,” she said tersely. “I’d rather work and earn the money. At least that way I’d have the satisfaction of knowing I rebuilt everything myself.”

A low, mirthless chuckle rumbled in his throat. “Do you have any idea how long it would take you to earn that kind of money? Don’t forget, you’d have to pay your living expenses while you’re working. That in itself can mean major expenditures. Even if you could get a job that pays—and there aren’t too many around for a woman—it could take you damn near the rest of your life to save ten thousand dollars.”