She blinked to see Robbie just behind him, his big hand on Colt's shoulder. Colt hadn't looked at him, was still looking at her, but she doubted that Robbie's size would have made any difference in what he'd said. Far from it. He was ready to get violent, wanted to get violent. And she knew it even if the big Scot didn't.
"It's all right, Robbie. Mr. Thunder was just. proving a point to me. Nothing for you to be con-cerned about."
The brawny Scot hesitated in indecision. However much he had witnessed of that punishing kiss in the dim light supplied by the numerous campfires behind them, it was enough to make him doubt her reassur-ance. How could she have forgotten that her men were near? Of course, she didn't have to explain herself to them, but still.
And then she realized that Colt's fingers were still twisted in her hair, holding her in place, and that likely was why Robbie was still concerned. It had escaped her notice, and probably Colt's too, when Robbie interrupted them. But when she nudged her shoulder where Colt's wrist touched to subtly remind him, he didn't let go. And one look at his eyes proved he hadn't forgotten he was holding her. He wasn't going to back off, not for any reason.
She didn't understand what motivated him now. Did he want to provoke a fight with her men, hoping that would get him fired? Or was this just another means to frighten her, to show her that her men were no real protection, not against him anyway? Whatever his reason, she didn't like it.
If she remonstrated with him and he ignored her, that was going to cause a fight. If she forced Robbie to leave while Colt still held her in his grip, then she was giving him free rein to start up again where he had left off. But if she did nothing, then Colt would do something, and Vanessa would never forgive her if she let him hurt her favorite guard. And she had little doubt about who would be getting hurt. Robbie might be a big, brawny man who had seen service in Her Majesty's Royal Highlanders, but there was noth-ing of cold, merciless steel in him, whereas everything about Colt Thunder cried danger.
There was no help for it. "I do appreciate your concern, Robbie, but I'm perfectly safe in Mr. Thun-der's company. You may leave now — and take the other gentlemen with you. I will be along in a mo-ment."
Made into an order, he had no choice but to com-ply, however reluctantly. "As you wish, Your Grace."
The moment Robbie let go of Colt and turned away, Colt released her. So that was all he had wanted.
Blast the man for making her worry about his inten-tions.
"That was utterly despicable of you," she hissed as she put a hand to the back of her head to rub her sore scalp. "And I don't mean what you did to me, though that was despicable too. I don't doubt that you are capable of meting out a good deal of damage to my men, but to take that means of provoking your dismissal is cowardly, and whatever I thought of you, sir, it was not that you were cowardly."
"And what do you think of me now?" he asked in a low, hard voice.
She took a step back from him, well aware he was referring to what he'd done to her. What did she think, besides the fact that he could be merciless in getting what he wanted?
"I think you are a very determined man, Colt Thunder, but then I am known for that quality myself.
And I hate to disappoint you, but your little demon-stration didn't work. I still need you."
She walked away from him then, but what she did to him with those last words was ample revenge for that kiss. Her definition of need and the one his body interpreted were not the same, but it kept him awake the entire night anyway, half of which was spent hurt-ing.
Chapter Fourteen
“Ferme la!"
"Hein? Espece de salaud, je vais te casser la gueule!"
"Moncul!"
"Good Lord, must we wake up to such swearing?" Jocelyn demanded irritably as she turned over in the furs. "What are they fighting about this time?"
Vanessa, who stood at the tent opening watching the commotion outside, shrugged. "I think Babette insulted his cooking again. You know how touchy Philippe is about his skills."
"She's not really going to smash his face in as she just threatened, is she?"
"She does have hold of one of his frying pans, but then so does he. Right now they're just glaring at each other."
"Do call her off, Vana. I've warned her time and again about fighting with Philippe. Where does she think I can replace him if he quits because of her? She is the one I ought to replace. The trouble she causes—"
"She keeps things lively, you'll have to admit, and the men happy, I might add. And why are you so touchy this morning?"
Jocelyn ignored that question. "Just call her off before my breakfast is ruined. Why are the lamps still lit?
What the deuce time is it, anyway?"
Here Vanessa chuckled. "I would imagine it's about six o'clock of the a.m. Your sweet Mr. Thunder woke the camp about thirty minutes ago. He said something about our pulling out by sunrise so we
'wouldn't waste daylight.' "
"Sunrise! Is he mad?" Jocelyn cried.
"I would hazard a guess that he just wants to reach the end of his obligations with all possible speed. At this rate we ought to reach Wyoming in no time a'tall."
"I'll speak to him."
"Good luck."
"Just what do you find so amusing about this, Vana?"
"I warned you, my dear, did I not? That man is going to do his utmost to make sure you regret hiring him. Guide indeed. He's a born slave driver, is what he is."
Vanessa left then to make sure the French in their party did not come to civil war. But she was back in a moment with Jane, who carried in a bowl of warm water and a clean towel. Babette was conspicuously absent, no doubt warned she had incurred Jocelyn's displeasure, so Jane laid out Jocelyn's clothes for the day before departing again.
Jocelyn remained under the covers, fighting with an irritation that had nothing to do with the recent conversation. Her lips felt puffy and sore, and a mir-ror would no doubt show them to be swollen. How was she going to hide something like that? And if Colt saw it, he would know he had actually hurt her. He would never understand then why she hadn't fired him on the spot. And what could she tell him if he demanded an explanation? That she enjoyed being manhandled? Or the truth, that she wanted so much to have him be her first lover, she could overlook last night's rough treatment?
"Well? He'll be pounding on the — ah, tent flap, if you're not up and ready to leave at his appointed time.
Or is that what you had in mind? Should I leave so the coast is clear?"
Vanessa was most definitely not helping matters with her dry humor this morning. She loved to rub it in when she was proved right about something, and Jocelyn supposed she felt this ungodly early rising was proof that Colt was still getting even for the way she had trapped him into working for her.
"If he does come around knocking, that'll be just too bad," Jocelyn grumbled. "I'm not leaving until I'm good and ready."
"What's this? Are we preparing for our first argument with the chap already? Do I get to listen?"
"Vana!"
"All right," the countess conceded as she came to sit at the bottom of Jocelyn's furs. "I've made my point, I suppose. But why are you so touchy this morning?"
Jocelyn sighed. "I didn't sleep well."
"Want to talk about it?"
"Not particularly," Jocelyn said as she turned over, and then she flinched to hear Vanessa gasp when she got her first good look at her face.
"Good Lord, it's already happened! When? Why didn't you tell me? And you're still in one piece, thank God. Well, at least now we can dispense with that ruffian's services."
"Nothing happened."
"Rubbish," Vanessa snorted. "I know a well-kissed mouth when I see one."
"That's all he did, and he did that so I would fire him."