Savage Thunder

Chapter Seventeen

“What are you going to do when the man starts to thrash you?"

Jocelyn waved a hand meant to dismiss that notion. "Don't be silly, Vana. He wouldn't dare." But she stopped in her pacing about the tent, and even she recognized the uncertainty in her voice. "Would he?"

"Don't look at me, my dear. You're the one who keeps playing with fire. I haven't even spoken to the chap yet. But isn't that something you should have considered before you stole his horse?"

"I didn't steal it, I just borrowed it. But he would have deserved it if I had."

She had caused quite a stir returning astride the big Appaloosa, but one look at her sour expression and no one had commented on it, not even Colt's brother, at least not to her. But that was several hours ago.

The cavalcade had passed the point where she had left Colt, but there had been no sign of him. They had also set up camp for another night and there was still no sign of him. Likely her people were beginning to wonder if she hadn't gotten rid of him in a per-manent way. After all, they would have heard those shots she had fired. She was beginning to worry her-self. There were the snakes he had mentioned, and that blasted mountain lion was still out there somewhere. Of course she hadn't left him weaponless.

He did still have his revolver. He no doubt just wanted her to worry about him.

"I rather like this carpeting, but it isn't going to last much longer if you keep that up," Vanessa said in her driest tone. "Why don't you come and have a sherry before dinner?"

"I'm sorry," Jocelyn said, but she didn't quit her pacing. "I know I haven't been very good company for you these past few days."

"You must be joking," Vanessa snorted. "Your little clashes with Mr. Thunder have been quite the best entertainment to happen among us since our two strapping footmen tried to kill each other over Babette.

You haven't said what happened today, but when you leave in an impeccable condition and return quite the opposite, it isn't that hard to guess. I really can't wait to see what happens next."

For that the countess received a dark glower, but it almost instantly turned into a closed-eyed cringe, for they could both hear the commotion that started up just outside the tent. Mr. Thunder had arrived.

"Now see here, mate," one of the guards said in annoyance. "You can't go in there without an in-vite."

The only answer was the sound of flesh meeting flesh, likely in the form of knuckles to face. Then another guard's voice was heard, and there was some further scuffling, and two more solid punches.

"You'd better get your derringer, my dear, until he calms down enough to see reason."

But Jocelyn didn't move at Vanessa's prompting, and there really wasn't time. It was ironic that neither of them thought the guards might win the tussle, and they were both right. The tent flap whipped open as Colt came through it without breaking stride, an angry stride that brought him straight to Jocelyn. She braced herself, but still she didn't move an inch. Per-haps that was what made him keep his hands from her when he reached her. He did no more than throw his hat down on the ground between them — and shout.

"I ought to… don't you ever…"

He didn't finish either thought. Her apparent calm in the face of his fury defeated him. And it was fas-cinating, watching him fight to regain control of his emotions. He stood there with his eyes closed and she could almost feel the turbulence inside him, the heat and power of it radiating so close to the surface, yet she could no longer see it.

Jocelyn had the feeling that losing control of any kind was alien to him, that he was a man who prided himself on being able to mask feelings of both body and mind, to never give a clue to the inner turmoil he might be experiencing. She had witnessed just such control before. But then, she had also been shouted at before by him.

Was that a good sign, she wondered, that the man seemed to lose his calm only when he was around her? Or was it just the situation he found himself in that he couldn't handle? She wished she knew which it was, but she concluded she'd prodded him enough for one day. Vanessa was right as usual. She had no business playing with fire before first learning the consequences.

Before he opened his eyes the tent was invaded again, by six more guards. "They're late," Colt said quietly to Jocelyn while Vanessa quickly assured the men there was no further need for alarm. "It's too damn easy to get to you, woman."

"Not really," she said just as quietly. "The only reason you got as far as you did is because you're known to them. If a stranger had tried the same thing, he would have been shot instead of merely warned off.

Did you do much damage out there?"

"No."

"Good."

She smiled before turning toward her men and adding her assurances to Vanessa's that it was all a mis-understanding. She even took full blame for it, though she did not go into detail, merely admitting that she had provoked Colt unreasonably. The fact that everyone there knew she had returned with Colt's horse, minus Colt, made his upset understandable as well as forgivable. He didn't have to utter a word in his de-fense, not that he would have.

Sir Parker was the only one reluctant to leave with Colt still there, but as Colt was now calmness itself, and both women insisting there would be no further trouble, he had little choice in the matter. As soon as the last guard departed, though, it was rather dis-concerting to hear Colt's comment, quiet, but quite serious.

"I tried walking it off, then running it off, but nei-ther worked one little bit. Nothing short of wringing your neck was going to work."

Vanessa, appalled upon hearing this, opened her mouth to call back the guard, but Jocelyn forestalled her. "Well, my neck appreciates that you came to your senses. Perhaps I do owe you an apology—"

"Damned right." Even that was somehow said in a moderate tone.

"— but you owe me one as well, so why don't we call it even this time?"

He didn't acknowledge her suggestion by word or nod, and Jocelyn grew uncomfortable under his pierc-ing stare. Those eyes of his really were lethal in what they could make her feel, and staring back at him only made it worse. In those blue depths she saw intimate knowledge of her body. His hardness had covered her only hours ago. His hand had seared the flesh on her legs when he had yanked her skirt out of his way. Her knees went weak now as she recalled that he had put his finger inside her. And she had the feeling he was remembering the same thing when he looked at her like that. She prayed not.

She turned away, caught Vanessa's wary look, and almost burst into relieved laughter. It was one thing for Vanessa to make all her snide comments and warnings based on speculation, but now that she was seeing the man for herself and how he could be, she likely didn't know what to think. He certainly wasn't easy to read, especially when he was like this. The fury was probably still there, but buried so deep now that it was harmless — at least for the moment.

"The countess reminded me earlier that I have been remiss in the way of introductions. Colt Thunder, al-low me to present my dearest friend and companion, Vanessa Britten."

"Ma'am," Colt said with a nod.

Vanessa was obviously encouraged, enough to say, "Delighted, Mr. Thunder."

"Oh, he doesn't like to be called mister, Vana. He answers to either name."

"Without preference? How odd."

"But it's rather nice, the informality, isn't it? It makes you feel you know a person better than you do."

"If you'll excuse me, ladies."

He said it even as he headed for the exit, prompting Jocelyn to step in front of him. "But you can't leave yet. You must stay and have dinner with us."

"Must?"

She lowered her eyes before correcting herself., "Will you please join us?"

"I don't-"

"At least stay and have a drink," she persisted. "You must be. " Wrong thing to mention, his likely thirst. "We have sherry… no, you wouldn't like that. Vana, why don't you see what Jane can find in the supply wagon in the way of more potent spir-its?"

"Haven't you learned yet that it isn't safe to be alone with me?"

Jocelyn swung around to see that Vanessa had left them without answering, the tent flap still fluttering.

They were indeed alone — for the moment.

"She'll be right back, and…" She peeked a glance at him. Good Lord, those eyes again. They sent shivers of excitement racing along her skin even when they were so inscrutable. "And haven't you learned yet that I'm not so easily intimidated?"

"What you are is crazy, woman. and asking for it," he retorted.

She was asking for it, but not in the way he me,ant. Why couldn't he see that? Why did he try so hard to appear mean and despicable? Because he really is mean and despicable, a tiny voice suggested. No, she wouldn't believe that, not for a minute. Besides, Sir George wouldn't have taken to a man who was inher-ently cruel.

"What I am, Colt Thunder," she said in a soft, whispery tone as her eyes sought his again, "is very attra—"

"Jane won't be but a moment. I told her to find that bottle of old brandy you bought from — oh, I say, I didn't interrupt anything, did I?" Vanessa asked.

Jocelyn was blushing profusely, but managed to shake her head as she stepped away from Colt. "No, not at all," she got out, nearly choking on the words.

She couldn't believe she had been about to confess her attraction for him. That simply wasn't the way things were done, especially when the second party's feelings were not in the least bit clear. Good Lord, how mortifying if she had done so and he hadn't re-sponded, or worse, had replied something to the ef-fect that it was her problem, not his. It was her problem, but for once she couldn't plunge right ahead in solving it.

"It's as well you came back so soon, Vana, since I was just getting around to asking Colt why he wanted us to avoid that town yesterday. The answer was of particular interest to you, wasn't it?"

"Indeed," Vanessa replied, though with reluc-tance.

It was all well and good to complain to Jocelyn about their guide's apparent spitefulness, Vanessa thought, but quite another thing to broach the subject with him, especially when he looked anything but friendly. In fact, the way he was looking at Jocelyn while her attention wasn't on him. Good Lord, what had happened while she was gone? His eyes were fairly smoldering with passion, but what kind of passion?

He didn't seem to have followed the conversation, so intent was his concentration on Jocelyn, so Vanessa prompted, "Was there a reason, ah — Colt?"

His gaze swung to her with what could only be described as impatience, but the fires were banked now, and then he was looking at the duchess again, almost as if he couldn't seem to help himself. "I kept you out of Benson because your best protection is out in the open, where you can see your enemy coming. In a town, you don't know who the hell to watch out for since you don't even know what this Englishman looks like, or his men. Out here, anyone who approaches is suspect. It's the simplest precaution there is, Duchess, keeping to yourself."

There was a double meaning there. Even Vanessa caught it. Jocelyn chose to ignore it entirely.

"There, you see, Vana, a perfectly good reason. And what's more, Longnose has been temporarily misled thanks to the detour Colt insisted on this morning. We couldn't be in more capable hands, wouldn't you agree?"

Vanessa nodded, but her attention was still on Colt, watching for his reaction. She couldn't fault Jocelyn's ageold tactics. She had let the man know his com-pany was desired, had been shyly avoiding his gaze as if she didn't dare look at him for fear her feelings would be blatantly clear, and now was using flattery. But none of it seemed to be working on the man, at least not as one would expect. If anything, the more agreeable Jocelyn was, the more disturbed he seemed.

Did he grasp the situation and just want no part of it? Or were his the actions of a man who had decided he couldn't have what he wanted? Now there was a thought, but one Vanessa couldn't very well pursue.

She wondered if she ought to mention it to Jocelyn. No, best let the girl proceed in her own way.

Besides, the answer couldn't be had without direct question-ing, and Jocelyn might be straightforward on most subjects, but Vanessa hoped she had sense enough not to broach this one. The embarrassment that could arise didn't bear thinking of.

Neither woman could have known that Colt would have welcomed a little straightforwardness at this point, for he still didn't understand the duchess's mo-tivations in the least. That she could want him, know-ing what he was, was the last thing that might occur to him.

But his wanting her was getting out of hand, and being this near to her again was just making it worse. It had been a bad mistake to come in here, even with his anger to sustain him. With the anger gone now, he needed to get the hell away and fast.

He did just that the moment the tent flap opened again with the servant bearing the brandy on a silver tray. "Ladies," was all he said in parting before stalking toward the exit. But he did first snatch the bottle from the startled maid. At least there was something of Jocelyn's that he could have without guilt, and he damn well needed it tonight.