“One,” he said.
“We’ll send the rest of your things to the laundry tomorrow. You need to keep clean shirts on these wounds until they finish healing.”
“Thank you, nurse,” he said, turning around and kissing her. “Anyone ever tell you that you have a great bedside manner?”
“And I thought it was just the uniform,” she said.
He laughed. “That helps, I have to admit.”
She helped him out of his boots and trousers, then into the tub.
It took him a moment to settle in to the hot water, but once he was in, he could feel the aches and tiredness in his muscles slowly draining away. There was sure something to be said about hot baths. At least after a few days like he had just had.
She scrubbed him down with a rough sponge like he was a horse, being careful around his wounds and then using only her soft hands on his private parts.
He tried to wash her as well, especially those hidden areas between her legs, but she kept moving his hands away, telling him to wait his turn.
Finally, when she was done scrubbing off a layer of his skin, she told him to lie back and enjoy the moment.
She moved to the other end of the large, narrow tub and sat up on the end, her feet still touching his, her legs open so that he could see her most intimate parts. If this wasn’t heaven, he didn’t know what could beat it.
Slowly, not missing an inch, she used the sponge to wash herself. She started with her neck, then worked down her arms, bending down every so often to dip the sponge in the water.
He watched her breasts move as she moved. He watched the soapy water run down her body, over her breasts, down her stomach, and through the fine brown hair between her legs. He was mesmerized following the water, staring at her every movement.
He was as hard as he ever remembered being, and it took every ounce of willpower he had not to take her right then.
She seemed to spend extra time on her breasts, moving them around, soaping them again, rubbing them.
Never, in all his life, had he felt so aroused by simply watching a woman. He never wanted the moment to end.
She had the look of intense lust that he had come to recognize. Her eyes were slits, not really seeing anything, her face filled with a smile of contentment.
She let out a low moan and looked at him.
He reached for her and she slipped down into the water, moving quickly to impale herself on his thick rod. As her warm slickness settled over him, she sighed and then shuddered, reaching a peak all on her own, without him even having to move.
He held her for a moment as her shuddering eased. Then he started moving under her, sloshing the water slowly back and forth in long, rolling waves.
She joined in his movements perfectly, holding him while being careful to not touch his wounds.
Faster and faster they went, the waves on the water becoming like those on an angry lake in a violent storm.
After a moment, Fargo knew he couldn’t hold on any longer and he pushed up into her, emptying himself as she again reached another peak and shuddered with him.
They lay there, she in his arms, he still inside her, letting the waves calm.
All he could think about was how good this felt. How good she felt.
Finally, as he softened and started to slip out of her, she looked up at him and smiled, her green eyes alive and glowing. “You sure know how to make a girl hungry. I think the chef has a couple of special steaks in the kitchen cut just for us.”
He laughed and kissed her. “Woman, I think that fits in to my evening plans perfectly.”
She was right. The steaks were perfect, thick and juicy. And the conversation was even better. Not one word about Sarah or Henry Brant or Cain or Daniel.
They made love again slowly in her feather bed after dinner and the next thing he knew, the sun was coming up again and she was gone. How she managed to get up, get dressed, and leave without waking him was beyond his imagination. Yet somehow she had managed it.
In his own room, he put on his last clean shirt, gently pulling it over his now exposed wounds. Then he left the rest of his clothes in a pile on his bed for Anne’s laundry service to take and clean. After getting shot, he needed a new shirt as well.
With his Colt tied to his hip, he went looking for Anne. He found her happily doing paperwork in her office.
“Morning,” she said. “I was just about to wake you to join me for breakfast.”
“Timing is everything,” he said. “You missed the chance to see me without my britches on again.”
Her eyes twinkled and she smiled slyly. “Oh, I took a look before I left.”
He opened his mouth to say something back and found nothing to say as the image of her standing over him looking at his manhood flashed through his mind.
She laughed and came around the desk, taking him by the arm and escorting him to the dining room.
Over breakfast, the conversation turned to what they had both avoided the night before. And he started it.
“You know, being seen with me could be dangerous for you.”
She nodded. “I know that. It’s a chance I’m willing to take.”
“But I’m not,” he said.
She frowned. “I don’t like the sound of that, Fargo.”
“I was wondering if you would do me a very big favor.”
“I’m listening,” she said, but not agreeing to anything yet.
“I ruined a shirt with two bullet holes. It was a favorite shirt of mine.”
“I can imagine it was,” she said, looking puzzled.
“If I escorted you to the train station in Sacramento, would you be so kind as to go into San Francisco for a few days, maybe a week, to find me a new one? It was a very special shirt.”
She laughed and leaned forward and kissed him. “Why would you think I would do that? I’m not really into running away from a fight, you know.”
“I know that about you,” he said. “It’s one of the many things I admire about you more than I can tell you. However, look around.”
He swept his arm around at the beautiful dining room and hotel before she could say anything. “You have an investment and people here to protect. Reg, for one. Just being known to be close to me will put you and them in danger, especially with what I plan on doing very shortly.”
He took her hands in his across the tablecloth as she stared into his eyes. “I’ve lost one friend this week to these people. I can’t imagine losing you as well, and if you stay here, I’ll be more worried about protecting you than doing what I need to do.”
She stared at him for the longest time, never letting her gaze waver from his eyes. Finally, she said softly, “What color?”
It was his turn now to look puzzled.
“If you’re sending me all the way to San Francisco to shop for a shirt for you, I should at least know what color you want.”
7
An hour later, he and Anne were headed down the road. For the first time since he had seen her in Colorado, she had her riding clothes on. She looked just as good in them as she did in a dress. Maybe better, if that was possible. And she was an expert on a horse, riding smoothly with the animal’s motions, clearly comfortable. There wasn’t much about this woman that Fargo didn’t like. In fact, he couldn’t think of one thing.
Since no one knew she was leaving with him except Reg, and she had told him just a few minutes before she left, Fargo wasn’t too worried about being attacked on their ride. He let himself enjoy it, while at the same time keeping an eye out ahead for any problems.
Along the way, they talked about various things. She outlined a few problems in the hotel business in general, and her fear that Placerville was about to take a turn for the worse. He told her of some of the troubles at Sharon’s Dream. It was a good conversation with a beautiful companion on a clear, warm day. He wished it could have gone on longer, but in what seemed like no time, they had her horse stabled and were at the station, standing in front of the train that was about to depart for San Francisco. She’d earlier stopped and changed into a dress.