“Why not work for her and for me, both?” Charlotte proposed. “I’d make it worth your while. Help me win the hunt and I’ll give you ten times what she’s offered you. Twenty thousand dollars. How does that sound?”
“Like a lot of money.”
“Think of all the things you could spend it on. The poker games. The wenches. The drinking you could do.”
Fargo had to smile. She had him pegged.
“That’s not all I’m offering.” Charlotte stepped so close that her bosom pressed his chest and her legs were against his. Her warm breath fanned his cheek. “I’m offering myself, as well. Ravish me. Do with me as you will. All I require is that you agree to side with me against Sam.”
A cold feeling grew in the pit of Fargo’s stomach, and spread. “It was all an act? In the clearing today?”
“My pretending to be shocked when you compared me to a ripe cherry?” Charlotte laughed. “Yes, I was having fun with you. I do that a lot. Have fun with people. Especially my family.”
“Hell,” Fargo said.
“What’s the matter? You sound disappointed. Or are your feelings hurt, me playing you for a fool? Don’t be offended. Be glad I’ve confided the truth. Be thrilled about the twenty thousand dollars. Most of all, be excited that I’m offering myself to you.”
“Is that what you’re doing?”
For an answer Charlotte pressed flush and raised her soft lips to his. The tip of her tongue rimmed his lips. When she drew back she made a clucking sound. “You can do better than that. The stories I’ve heard make you out to be the best lover who ever lived. Prove it. Show me you’re worth baring myself to you.”
The cold in Fargo changed to hot anger. He stared at her, and without any hint of what he was going to do, thrust his hand between her legs.
Charlotte gasped and threw her head back, her red lips parted in a “O” of surprise. “You get right to it, don’t you?”
Fargo cupped a breast and squeezed hard through the fabric of her riding outfit. She moaned, and color crept up her face.
“Not so rough. That almost hurt.”
“Did it?” Fargo said, and cupped her other mound. He squeezed just as hard and pulled her close, mashing his mouth against hers, delving his tongue into her mouth.
Cooing softly in her throat, Charlotte melted against him. Her hands rose and linked behind his neck. Her knee rose up and down. “Do me,” she breathed into his ear.
Fargo had every intention. Bending, he swept her into his arms and carried her to the four-poster bed. He didn’t set her down; he threw her onto her back hard enough to cause the canopy to shake.
“I’m not a sack of flour, you know.”
Fargo got on the bed on his knees and pushed her legs apart and hitched at his belt.
“Hold on. I like to work up to it. Aren’t we going to kiss and fondle some first?”
Taking her hand, Fargo placed it on his hardening manhood. “You need something to fondle, fondle this.”
“Oh my.” Charlotte’s eyes widened and acquired a hungry cast. “You’re a big one, aren’t you?” She ran her palm up and down. “Goodness. No wonder the ladies like you so much.”
Fargo kissed her to shut her up. He pried at her buttons and stays and soon had her jacket undone and her blouse opened, exposing her mounds. They were full and firm, her nipples like tacks. He pinched one and then the other and she squirmed under him.
“I said not to be so rough.”
Fargo inhaled a nipple. He nipped it then bit it and he wasn’t gentle, neither. She squirmed and sucked in her breath, then pushed on his chest and hiked her hand as if to slap him.
“Damn it. I won’t tell you again. You’re making me mad. Be gentle or get out.”
Gripping her wrists, Fargo pinned them on the quilt. He kissed her lips, her throat, her ear. He bit the lobe and she stifled an outcry and tried to pull free.
“That was the last straw! Let go of me.”
Fargo nuzzled her neck and roved the tip of his tongue over one breast and then the other.
“Didn’t you hear me?”
Letting go of her left wrist, Fargo dipped his hand low over her skirt. She pushed against his shoulders, although not with much force. He looked at her and smiled. “You little bitch.”
“What did you just call me?”
By then Fargo’s hand was up and under. Her cotton drawers had a tie. A flick, and he was where he wanted to be. “I called you what you are,” he said, and cupped her nether mound.
“Oh! Oh God.”
Fargo parted her nether lips with the tip of his finger and rubbed her tiny knob, eliciting a moan. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders so deep it hurt.
“Like that, do you?” Fargo said, and lanced a finger up into her.
Charlotte arched up off the bed, then slowly sank back. She ground her hips to meet this thrusts and uttered tiny bleats of pleasure.
Fargo inserted a second finger. The bed was moving under them, the quilt bunching about their legs. With his other hand he undid his belt buckle and tugged at his pants.
“God, I love that. Don’t stop.”
Spreading her legs, Fargo positioned himself. In a deft move he slid his fingers out, aligned his pole, and impaled her to the hilt. He thrust deep and thrust hard, his knees rocking like steam engine pistons, his mouth on her throat and her breasts.
“Ah! Ah! Ah!” Charlotte cried out, and bit her lip. She gripped his sides and said, “Slower. Go slower.”
Fargo did the opposite. He went faster, ramming into her again and again.
Breathing noisily through her nose, Charlotte raised her legs and locked her ankles behind his back.
“Damn you.”
“Not much longer,” Fargo said.
“No. Don’t you dare. Let me first. If you do and peter out on me I might not.”
Fargo almost said it would serve her right. Gripping her hips, he shut everything from his mind except the exquisite feel of her velvet tunnel. Usually he liked to take longer. Not this time. She clawed and bucked and the next thing Fargo knew he was on the cusp. He shivered and shook and exploded.
His set off hers. Charlotte’s mouth gaped wide and she levered up, and it was a wonder the canopy didn’t crash down on their heads. “Yes! Yes! Oh, God, Yes!” She spurted and spurted.
Gradually Fargo slowed. He pulled out and eased onto his side with his head on his arm.
“Damn you to hell,” Charlotte said.
“You’re welcome.”
“You did that on purpose. I wanted to take our time. We have the rest of the afternoon.”
Fargo rolled onto his back and his hat came off. He put it back on, tugged his pants up, and buckled his belt.
“Say something, damn you.”
“You should have been honest with me.”
Charlotte rose on an elbow and poked him in the chest. “You’re acting awful high and mighty. I had to keep up my act. Sam and the others think I’m a saint and they need to go on thinking that. It’s the only advantage I have.”
“You want the inheritance for yourself.”
“What a stupid thing to say. Of course I do. Anyone with any brains would want the same. You don’t think Sam wants it? Or Tom? Or Charles? They’d kill to get it, the same as me.”
Fargo took note of that. “You didn’t mention Roland.”
“He’s not as greedy as the rest of us. All he’s ever cared about is being out in the woods hunting and whatnot.”
Sitting up, Fargo swung his legs over the side of the bed. “See you around.”
“Wait a minute.” Charlotte grabbed at his buckskins. “Let’s get a few things settled first. Now that you’re working for me I want you to—”
“Sam,” Fargo said.
“What?”
“Samantha hired me, not you.” Fargo stood and adjusted his Colt so it rode on his hip.
“We have an agreement, you and I. Twenty thousand dollars, remember? More money than you’ve probably ever had in your entire life.”