Quicksilver Passion Read Online Free

lying naked in a tangle of sheets and lace.Sorry about that, Nellie.”
    But why?”
    Never mind why. It isn’t your fault. I—I just changed my mind.” He started buttoning his pants.
    The song floated faintly through the door and Nellie sat up, glaring at him.It’s her, ain’t it? You want her? Well, Silver don’t sleep with no one, ’specially not some lowdown ’breed! You can eat your heart out, ’breed, but you won’t ever get in her bed! You should have been happy to get me.”
    Her words stung like gravel thrown against his face, but he resisted the urge to fling insults back. Cherokee could never hurt a woman, not even a whore. And didn’t he know that all white women were whores? Sorry, Nellie,” he drawled softly and strode out the door.
    Maybe he could sneak out without Silver seeing him. With all the fuss he’d made about spending the whole night with Nellie, he’d just as soon Silver didn’t know he was leaving early.
    He started down the stairs as the piano changed to another tune and the men began to applaud and cheer. Through the haze of smoke and smell of whiskey, he saw Silver taking the steps to the small stage.
    The piano banged loudly and the men sang along:
    De Camptown ladies sing dis song, doo-dah, doo-dah! De Camptown race track, five miles long—Oh! Doo-dah day!”
    Silver danced across the stage, her small feet flying to the melody. She had such a natural grace and rhythm that Cherokee forgot he was trying to sneak out unnoticed; that he was furious with the girl for denying him what he wanted.
    He had never seen anyone dance so well, graceful feet moving to the music while the men cheered her on. If the flawless beauty sang well, she was an even better dancer. And when she whirled, her skirts flew up, revealing long, beautiful legs.
    Halfway down the stairs, Cherokee leaned against the rail, and watched her dance, unwilling, no, unable to tear himself away. He had a sudden vision of his own dark, naked body lying between those thighs, her shapely legs locked around his hard-driving hips, pulling him deeper into her wet warmth. He would put his hands under her small hips, tilting her up for his deep thrusting. His mouth would find her pink nipples and she would arch her back to encourage him to suck harder, while she made soft, vulnerable noises of surrender in her throat.
    And his mouth on hers, he urged her on. Come with me, sweet darlin’, oh come . . . come with me, sweet Silver. . . .
    The music stopped, pulling him out of his fantasy. Here he stood, his manhood hard and aching again with a ready girl upstairs. Oh hell, what a fool he was!
    Silver took a bow to thunderous applause and then she turned and looked directly at him. Her pale, aquamarine eyes expressed no surprise at seeing him. In fact, it was almost as if she realized he would be standing there, her worshipful subject as were all the other men in this place. No wonder she didn’t have a man, she had a hundred male slaves eager to do her bidding—willing to throw themselves over a cliff or lay riches at her tiny feet for just one smile, one gesture.
    Cherokee had the most insane urge to run down the stairs and up to the stage, grab her, throw her over his wide shoulders, and carry her off. But he knew these men would lynch him for trying. Cherokee both hated and desired her at the same time, as men always want that which they cannot have.
    With an oath, he stumbled down the stairs, through the swinging doors, and out into the chill spring night. He’d go to another bawdy house, find another girl with hair as pale as moonbeams.
    But he didn’t. He went to a hotel and lay sleepless on his bed, staring up at the stained ceiling. It must be his imagination that the sound of her high, sweet voice seemed to drift faintly on the night air, accompanied by the rhythmic tap of her dancing feet.
    Tomorrow he’d buy his supplies, get his burro shod, and head back to the claim. By the next time he got to town, the girl would