Indecent Intent Read online

  ‘Gina!’ she screamed, struggling with the lap strap. ‘It’s okay, Gina, I’m coming to find you… I’m coming to help you… hang on…’ She didn’t stop to check if she was injured – it didn’t even cross her mind that she might be or to do so. She had to get out of there. She was too concerned about getting out and for the welfare of her companion. As she struggled to climb down from the cockpit she was aware that the smell of leaking fuel was getting stronger, and the threat of being engulfed in a fireball spurred her on to move even quicker. Struggling over the rocks and scrub and boulders that formed the floor of the canyon was not easy, but she had to get away from the wreck, and she had to find the other girl.

  ‘Gina!’ she called again. A cold wind cut through tears in her sweatshirt and jeans, but Gabrielle scarcely noticed the sharp pain from a gash in her bared belly, or the one in her knee. She stumbled blindly in her haste and panic, more than once, and had to stop to regain her breath, her breasts heaving with the effort it took just to move. ‘Oh, Gina, I’m so sorry,’ she wailed, tears pricking her eyes as the realization hit her that finding the other girl was going to be more difficult than she’d first thought – if not totally impossible. ‘Please call out…’ she said, more to herself than the girl. ‘Please let me know where you are.’

  Then a cry so faint it could have been the sound of the wind whistling around the strange outcrops of rock that littered the floor of the canyon reached Gabrielle’s ears. She stood very still, listening, and it came again. ‘Gina!’ she cried, and stumbled on in the direction she thought the call had come from until a hand, as powerful as a vice, suddenly clamped over her mouth and muffled the scream that died in her throat as she was snatched from behind around the waist. Utterly helpless she was held to a strong male body, that much she sensed.

  ‘Your friend will be all right.’ The words were whispered brusquely in her ear and she was forced to contain a sob by the hand that gagged her. ‘She is badly hurt and lies in a deep gully along the canyon, but she is being looked after and will be taken to safety. She fell from the plane like a wounded bird, and is very lucky to be alive. She has spirit.’

  The coldly spoken words and the realization that she and Gina had come so close to total disaster made Gabrielle’s stomach lurch and she struggled in her captor’s arms, feeling she was going to be sick, but the grip on her bruised and aching body only became tighter. ‘I shall release you only if you promise to stop wriggling,’ the deep voice said in her ear, ‘and promise not to make a sound.’

  Despite her spinning thoughts and the trauma of what was happening Gabrielle heard what he was saying and nodded as much as she was able.

  The man eased her round to face him; clearly aware that she might be injured, and she could only gasp when she looked up into the blackest eyes she had ever seen. He was tall, with a skin bronzed by the wind and sun of harsh Colorado winters and the blistering heat of the summers, darkening its natural tawny colour. He was handsome in a rugged way, with a profile made strong and austere by a hooked nose. He wore a checked woolen shirt and faded denim jeans, which left nothing to the imagination so far as his male endowment was concerned.

  ‘Who – who are you?’ she managed to blurt, suddenly realizing how thirsty she was.

  ‘The white men call me Barney,’ he told her, ‘but I was named White Eagle by my father.’ His lips parted in a dazzling display of straight teeth.

  Gabrielle hung her head and tried to stop shaking.

  ‘You are in shock,’ he said, wrapping her in his muscular arms once more, letting her feel his warmth and the security of his hold. ‘The accident—’

  ‘It was my fault!’ Gabrielle wailed, sobbing against his chest. ‘Gina’s injured and lucky to be alive and it was all my fault!’

  ‘There is a cave.’ He began to lead her quickly, ignoring her outburst, almost dragging her over the rough ground. ‘You must rest there and let me check you over.’

  ‘But I have to tell—!’

  He grabbed her by the upper arms and gave her a violent shake that stunned her into silence. ‘You must do as I say!’ he told her. ‘You must listen to me. We have to get you warm and make sure you are okay,’ and the black eyes seemed to draw her in to him – into his very soul.

  Gabrielle knew White Eagle wanted something from her – she could sense it. It was like a strong scent which drew her to him, made her drag along behind him, stumbling up a steep cliff and into the shadowy darkness of a deep cave. It was ancient, and had been used for centuries by generations of Colorado Indians.

  Soon a comforting fire warmed her through to the bone and her shivering eased as she lay on the soft bed of animal skins White Eagle prepared for her. He towered over her, smiling at her wide-eyed expression as she stared at the ancient wall paintings.

  ‘This was a love cave,’ he explained, ‘designed to excite the maidens before their sacrifice to the Sun God.’ Men with hugely distended phalli stood around a girl bound to the stone floor with her arms and legs outstretched.

  Gabrielle shuddered. Did she have some vague memory that the Colorado Indians had a similar history to the Incas? ‘A love cave,’ she murmured, trying to absorb what had happened in such a short space of time, and what she was hearing.

  And then the man knelt down on the bed of furs and started to feel her legs, slowly, pressing and squeezing, checking for damage, and inducing the occasional gasp from the exhausted patient. And then the strong but gentle hands moved higher, feeling her wrists and arms, her shoulders, her ribs, and then her breasts.

  ‘I must check how firm is your heartbeat,’ he explained in response to her questioning look, but then his eyes became even more intense and his fingers moved to the neck of her sweatshirt and he eased it off her.

  He dropped the garment to the side and paused for a while, watching her reactions, but without saying any more, and so weary was she, and so glad for the comforting presence of another human being, she lay quiet and accepting as his hands then moved to the button at the waist of her jeans.

  There was nothing she could do – nothing she wanted to do – to stop him. He took off the tattered jeans with surprising dexterity, not satisfied until he had her completely naked, and already her body was arching in offer, her heels driving into the soft mound of fur as she spread her legs like the girl in the wall painting.

  ‘Yes,’ he growled, ‘I knew it would be like this with you when I saw the plane. I could smell your female heat.’ He was taking off his own clothes, removing his shirt, and then slipping out of his jeans to release his impressive manhood, which speared up from the dark bush of his pubis and swayed towards his muscled stomach.

  He knelt between her thighs, stroking his thickness, which grew before Gabrielle’s eyes. The flickering of the fire sent shadows dancing up the painted walls of the cave and she could feel her body becoming warm again and the shivering thankfully ebbing away. From somewhere she thought she heard a chant, a drumming rhythm that seemed to grow in volume as White Eagle positioned himself between her thighs. His cock seemed so large.

  He entered her powerfully, and then lay still with his weight on his forearms, and Gabrielle moaned with pleasure at his thickness, urging him to move within her by wrapping her legs around his waist.

  ‘Stop that,’ he hissed. ‘I am your master. Have you not learned that by now?’

  So she lay still beneath him, allowing him to move as and when he wanted to, to set the pace he required. Did he know about Verity? Did he know there was already another who considered himself her owner – her master?

  He thrust into her repeatedly, aggressively, wrenching confused cries of pleasure and discomfort from her. The strong white teeth gnawed at the distended and erect nubs of her nipples and she writhed deliriously beneath him with newly awakened desire.

  Then the domineering man pulled his erection from her and she gave a sob of loss, but he flipped her over, wrapp
ing an arm beneath her tummy to lift and arch her body into a kneeling position on the furs.

  ‘Open your thighs,’ he ordered, his voice deep and rasping, and Gabrielle obeyed, but not quite to his satisfaction and his palm slapped down repeated upon the tender flesh of her buttocks, making her squeal until she was kneeling and presented just as he wanted her. He pushed her arms out straight in front of her until her cheek was resting down on the furs and her position was that of a supplicant begging to a deity.

  She felt his strong possessive hands smooth over her uplifted, beaten bottom, tracing the full curves and the narrow valley that divided them. His lips and tongue, in their caresses of her intimate flesh, were forceful in their domination. He sucked and licked her naked quim lips, and gently gnawed them with his teeth. He inhaled her musk and tasted it with the tip of his tongue before driving the muscle deep inside her, and only when he was completely satisfied that she had climaxed again and again did he kneel tall, hold her hips steady between his large hands, lift his face to the ancient ceiling of the cave as though kneeling at an altar, and again plunge his throbbing penis deep into her sex.

  Although White Eagle took her harshly, aggressively, using his grip on her hips to ease her body back and forth and using her clutching depths to milk his cock, there was also something tender in the taking. It was somehow different to the total subjugation she normally suffered at the Verity mansion.

  When he came, flooding her with his warm semen, Gabrielle felt it was a gift, and she was grateful. He slipped from her and they lay in each other’s arms, kissing affectionately.

  ‘Thank you,’ she murmured sincerely. ‘I needed to be with someone – needed to feel close to someone.’

  ‘If we had met earlier,’ he said, looking deep into her eyes, ‘I would have taken you as my wife, but as it is…’ She felt him shrug and knew what he was thinking; she came to him far from being a maiden. A son of a chief he could not marry her. Tears wet his broad muscular shoulders and her breasts shuddered as sobs wracked her body, her unhappiness returning.

  ‘You know all about me, don’t you?’ she at last managed to say.

  ‘I know that you are owned by a rich white man,’ he told her, ‘who does not treat you as a wife, but as a slave.’

  Linking her arms around his neck she looked deep into the blackness of his eyes. ‘Treat me as a slave,’ she begged. ‘Use me again, as you used me just now. I’ll stay with you and work for you; work for your tribe; be your family’s slave. I don’t care how you treat me…’ She paused, swallowing the lump in her throat – her misery. ‘It could never be worse than being with Marshall Verity.’

  He took her wrists in his hands and peeled her arms from around his neck. ‘I could grow to care for you in time,’ he admitted, ‘but you must go back to your master. He owns you, just as he owns much land here.’

  Hurt by his words Gabrielle turned away from him, lying sullenly on her side, her back facing him. ‘I wish I was dead,’ she mumbled. ‘I wish I had died in the plane crash.’

  ‘I think that is what your master intended,’ said White Eagle softly, standing and beginning to dress again.

  ‘Wha-what do you mean?’ Gabrielle couldn’t believe what he was saying. Verity wanted her to die? He had arranged for the plane to crash? No, it could not be true… it just couldn’t!

  ‘There are rumors in the reservation casino that some men are planning something against your master.’ He reached down and took her hands in his, pulling her gently to her feet. ‘I wish I could do more to help you, but your master is a very powerful man.’ He reached down and picked up an animal skin from the luxurious mound of furs they’d used as a bed for their lovemaking, wrapping it around her for warmth. ‘It seems there are three of them – a black man and two white men. They seek revenge or they seek possession of you, and your master is determined to deny them both.’

  Gabrielle shuddered. It had to be Tom and Robbie – didn’t it? Or perhaps Marshall Verity simply had many enemies and it had nothing to do with either of them; was simply a coincidence. Yes, Gabrielle had to pull herself together; it could be anyone who had a grudge against Verity.

  ‘I shall return you to your master now,’ said White Eagle, interrupting her fruitless attempts to fathom out what on earth was going on in her life. ‘You are very lucky and unhurt. A little bruised, but no more.’

  ‘But you can’t take me back to him!’ she pleaded desperately. ‘If you’re right and he really was behind the failed plane crash attempt he’ll just try again, and make sure he succeeds next time! Please, can’t I just stay here with you?’

  He shook his head, smiling sadly. ‘No, you cannot. Don’t worry – if he was involved he will not try again. He is not a stupid man, and will know that people will be watching him now; one near fatal crash will draw unwanted attention to his activities, and any other highly suspicious “mishaps” would be closely scrutinized by the authorities. Trust me, you will be safe enough now.’

  Chapter Seventeen

  Verity held Gabrielle’s hand possessively tightly and led her from White Eagle’s dusty old pick-up towards the hotel entrance, his security men close around them, looking alert. She noticed a large black man hovering nearby, and Verity and his bodyguards noticed him too, but chose to ignore him and get into the hotel.

  This was where it had all begun, Gabrielle thought bitterly, where Tom had done the unthinkable and sold her for gambling money.

  After a much needed and very relaxing hot bath in Verity’s suite Gabrielle felt a little more human again, although she was not happy to be back in his clutches. Feeling uninspired and lacking motivation she dressed simply, the dress nevertheless skimming her shapely figure and making her look lovely.

  As they left his suite, Verity smoothed a hand over the curve of her hip and seductive swell of her buttocks, delighting in the shudder this elicited. The pair walked through the lush green ferns, which decorated the foyer of the hotel, through to the casino. Verity’s men followed as usual, their faces impassive, they eyes watching everything.

  Weaving their way through the crowds, Gabrielle wondered what awaited her. Had Verity really meant to eliminate her as a ploy to head off any plan Tom, or Robbie, or Sonny Campbell may have devised against him? The way the plane crashed certainly pointed to that as a terrifying possibility.

  ‘It promises to be a very big night, my dear,’ he said to her, cutting into her thoughts and slipping his arm around her waist. He held her close and smiled. ‘Are you looking forward to it?’

  ‘As much as always,’ she said. Her voice was flat, emotionless, and just for a moment she allowed her eyes to close, shutting out the world. She had to take each moment as it came, and look no further ahead than that.

  ‘And are you looking forward to seeing your husband again, my dear?’ Verity was leading her quickly through the banks of slot machines, not even giving the small-time players a second glance; not even appearing to notice them, so insignificant were they to someone like him.

  So Tom was definitely there, which probably meant Robbie was too. Gabrielle said nothing in reply for some moments, believing more and more that what White Eagle had said was really true. She shuddered again and tried to dismiss such thoughts from her head. It would be better and safer to keep positive and keep alert – not dwell on what might have been.

  Was she looking forward to seeing Tom again? No, she wasn’t. She often looked back to her life with Tom – but never any longer forward. Tomorrow was the anniversary of her husband selling her to Verity – that’s as much, and as little, as she thought about Tom.

  ‘I asked you a question, my dear,’ Verity pressed, just as they stopped and paused in the plush corridor outside a privately booked room.

  ‘I don’t really feel anything about the prospect, sir,’ she said quietly, and he smiled with satisfaction as one of his men opened the door, and the small entourage strolled conf
idently into the room.

  Verity took a seat at the gambling table, indicating that she should stand behind him – his chattel, his possession.

  She raised her eyes from the carpet and was not at all surprised to see who was amongst the other players sitting around the table. Tom was there, looking a little too cocky and relaxed, very probably having drunk too much to gain some confidence. He winked at her and raised his bottle of beer. ‘Hi, Gabby,’ he said. ‘Long time no see…’ and she had no idea what to say back, so she lowered her eyes again and said nothing.

  Verity noticed her reaction and briefly nodded his approval.

  And Robbie was there too, contrasting with Tom by looking very edgy and out of place. He cast her a sheepish smile, and she noticed his hand shaking as he nervously sipped at a glass of water, and realised she felt absolutely nothing for him either. Their few days together in the brief sanctuary of his old boat had been fun, but she now knew, had been no more than that. He was exciting to be with in the surroundings of Key West, but now he looked like a nobody – just a beach bum out of his patch and out of his league.

  There were other men sitting around the table, some she recognized as Verity’s friends and cronies, some she did not.

  But what did shock her incredibly, and she only just managed to suppress a gasp of shock that would have blown whatever plan the blonde was embroiled in, was seeing Gail sitting there too, clearly about to deal the opening hand. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments, but Gabrielle was able to glean no useful information from the glance whatsoever.

  ‘Good evening, gentlemen,’ said Verity. ‘Let’s play, shall we?’

  The cards were dealt, and Gabrielle was stunned at just how professionally they were dealt. Gail was clearly a girl of many hidden – and some not so hidden – talents.

  Each player picked their hand up and a tense silence fell over the room as the cards were studied. Gabrielle looked at what Verity held, but it meant nothing to her. In actual fact the fan of five cards was poor and a lesser man would have thrown in his hand, but Verity did not. He bet high.