Dark Angels by Cattraine

Navajo Vocabulary:
shiye = son
biligaana = white
tsiishchi'ili = curly haired
tkele-cho-g = jackass
dineh-ba-whoa-blehi = mantrap

Little Sisters of Mercy Convent, Four Corners, New Mexico
Saturday Morning

CAW! CAW! CA--! CLANG!

The metallic clang of the door of the Livetrap slamming shut had Josiah popping out of the spirea hedge like a demented, overlarge jack-in-the-box. Dropping his clippers, he rubbed his palms together with glee. 'Finally caught that little black devil!' The Sisters had sternly forbidden him to shoot the big, black crow he had been feuding with, so he had been forced to resort to the use of a humane varmint trap. The fact that he planned on wringing the blasted bird's neck afterwards, was better not mentioned to the soft hearted nuns. He trotted happily towards the big oak tree under which he had set the trap.

"Shit! Parnell!" The large cream colored cat sitting placidly inside the trap, blinked Siamese blue eyes up at Josiah and purred loudly. "Sister Serafina will skin me alive!" Parnell, the convent cat, was much beloved by all the Sisters of Mercy, but he was Sister Serafina's spoiled darling. The big man knelt, and carefully released the madly purring feline. "Bad kitty!" Parnell purred louder. He and Josiah had a fairly amiable relationship. Parnell was diligent at hunting rats and mice around the greenhouses, but he also clawed open the bags of bark mulch, planted turds in the flower beds, and delighted in napping in trays of seedlings, often squashing them flat.

Josiah scowled down at the plump cat. "Since when do cats eat corn?" Exasperated, the big man stared down as Parnell blinked innocently up. He stretched and stropped his claws lazily on the toes of Josiah's battered boots. Hands on hips, Josiah glared down at the unrepentant feline. "I'd think, as a cat, you'd would want to help catch that little feathered bastard!"

"Brother Sanchez! Such language!" Sister Serafina chirped from directly behind him, causing him to give a guilty jump. Craggy face aflame, he hung his head meekly. "Sorry Sister Serafina. Thought I'd caught that dam...darned crow; but Parnell here sprang the trap."

"Parnell! Such a bad kitty! You must not play with Brother Sanchez's trap!"

The plump little Hispanic nun bent and scooped Parnell up. Still scolding, she carried him off towards the kitchen, where he would no doubt be stuffed full of treats. He smirked back at Josiah over her shoulder. Josiah scowled. Damned uppity critters. Then he brightened. Today was barbeque day at Chris's ranch. Rain Jackson had specifically asked that he help her cook the cuts of meat she was bringing. Beaming at the thought, he hurried to reset his trap and put his tools away. Josiah loved to cook. He stoutly ignored the crow that flapped lazily by overhead and cawed mockingly.

Chris Larabee's Ranch, Outside of Four Corners:

Vin Tanner chuckled softly at the antics of the little black, blaze-faced studcolt frisking around the corral as Vin groomed his mother. Lena's Black Beauty was a full blooded champion quarter horse, and Chris's favorite broodmare. The big mare was sweet tempered and a natural cutting horse. Chris had been irate when he discovered that a neighbor's rawboned, ornery mustang stud had literally jumped the fence during Beauty's last heat. The result was now bucking in happy circles around Vin, stopping ever so often to sidle in and slyly nibble at his pockets. The colt was as spirited and stubborn as he was handsome. Chris threatened at least once a week to shoot him for dog food.

Vin on the other hand, championed the little misfit. He admired the colt's spirit and intelligence, and worked patiently with the lively foal to try and teach him manners. In return, the colt adored Vin, obeyed him for the most part, and ignored everyone else. Vin finished brushing Beauty, and unhooked her lead. "There ya go. Purty as a picture." He ran a loving hand down the mare's glossy neck. She responded with a gentle nudge and a soft whicker. He gave her withers one last pat, and headed for the gate, coiling the lead rope as he went, his little equine shadow trotting happily behind.

"You best behave son, or Chris is gonna have yer hide for a rug!"

The colt tossed his head and squealed, almost as though he were agreeing, then he snaked his head out and stole the bandanna out of Vin's back pocket. Whirling, he kicked up his heels with glee and took off across the corral at a gallop. Vin grinned and shook his head. He looped the lead over the gate post and headed up to the house. Chris was due back from town at any minute. He had gone in to stock up on groceries and beer for the barbeque.

Vin snickered at the thought of all the antics the guys were going through to distract Josiah from actually bringing some of his dubious cuts of meat to the cookout. Rain had cannily sweet-talked the big man into assisting her in preparing the steaks she had bought on sale. Buck and Ezra had gone on a frantic spending spree at the supermarket, purchasing a cart load of various spices, seasonings and condiments to keep him busy. The long term plan for the summer cookouts was to distract Josiah with different meats and marinades each weekend until barbeque season was over.

As he walked across the yard towards the house he saw an unfamiliar red sports car turn into the drive. Frowning, he moved to insure his jeep sat between himself and the stranger. He had a couple of his guns stashed in the jeep, and better to be safe than sorry. As the flashy Miata pulled up to the house he saw the driver was a petite brunette. She wore a gash of scarlet lipstick and was flashing a lot of tan skin in a skimpy sundress. She gave him a slow, deliberate once over, eyes running down his lean body appreciatively, and flashed a wide barracuda smile.

"Hi. I'm looking for Chris Larabee."

"He ain't home." Vin answered shortly, flushing and fighting the urge to button up his denim shirt. The woman's predatory gaze made him uneasy.

She frowned. "When do you expect him back?"

"Don't know."

She frowned again, dark eyes narrowed, taken aback by the curt answers this handsome man gave. She decided he must be one of Larabee's hired hands and to put him in his place a bit.

"And you are?" she asked coldly.

"I live here," he answered evenly. This woman raised his hackles, and he wasn't about to give her his name without good reason.

"Well, tell your boss that Ella Gaines stopped by to see him, and that I look forward to renewing old aquaintances."

"Tell him yerself."

Vin nodded towards the road, where Chris's big black Ram was nosing into the long driveway. He was glad to see his lover, and to let him deal with this woman.

Chris Larabee frowned at the unfamiliar car, taking in Vin's defensive posture in a single glance. What the hell? He rolled up behind Vin's jeep slowly, automatically feeling for the .45 automatic tucked between the seats of the Ram. The woman looked vaguely familiar. Recognition struck. Ah, hell, Ella Alligator Gaines.

The only woman with the dubious honor to ever wear out Buck Wilmington. She had pursued Chris relentlessly in college, and he had finally resorted to fucking her in the vain hope that she would then leave him alone. As he recalled, it had only made her worse. He had dumped her ass flat when she started warbling about marriage. Wonder what the hell she wants?

Resigned to dealing with her again, he reluctantly descended from the truck.

"Chris!"

Emerging from her own vehicle, she hurried over to fling her arms around him. She stood on her toes to kiss him.

"Ella. Been a long time. What brings you here?"

He turned his head to avoid her lips, and the kiss landed on his cheek instead of his mouth. Vin smirked at him over her shoulder. He winked back as he peeled her off and took a step back out of reach. She clung, following him.

" Why, Chris, is that anyway to talk to an old flame? I was just telling your hired man here that I was looking forward to renewing old aquaintances," she purred up at him, lashes fluttering .

Chris gave her a tiny smile. "Vin's my partner, not my hired man," he answered evenly, voice cool.

"Oh, I do apologize, he seems a bit shy." She smiled up into his eyes, one red-taloned hand gripping his arm. She completely ignored Vin.

Chris stepped around her and flung his arm over Vin's shoulders. "Vin, this is Ella. Knew her in college. I might have mentioned her a time or two."

"Ma'am," Vin drawled quietly. He nodded politely to her. "Reckon Bucklin has mentioned her too." He turned to Chris; "Got chores." Slipping from under Chris's hand, he turned and walked away.

"My...he IS shy." Ella laughed lightly up at Chris. Then, a seductive smile curving her wide mouth, she again stepped forward to try and claim his arm.

"I was hoping to renew our...aquaintance, Chris."

He gave her a bright, false smile. "Sorry, Ella. I'm afraid I'm already spoken for."

She blinked, taken by surprise. "Oh, I wasn't aware you had married again."

"I'm not." He stepped away, again putting distance between them. "What can I do for you, Ella?" he asked, patience wearing thin, eyes on the barn, a frown growing between his brows.

She scowled, confused. Things were not going as she had planned. Time to fall back and regroup a bit. "I heard you were raising horses. I've got a stallion with impeccable bloodlines, but he's impossible to work with. I was hoping you could train him for me. I thought we might work out a deal for stud service in exchange." She smiled brightly again. "I bought the Rivera ranch over by Red Rock Butte, I hope to continue the stables there."

Chris frowned again, rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I know old man Rivera. His folks settled that land. I wouldn't have thought he would sell."

Ella shrugged lightly and tossed her head. "Well, he was happy to accept the offer I made. Are you interested in working with my horse?"

Chris shrugged indifferently. "I don't work the horses like I used to, Ella. It's more of a hobby now. You can have one of your hands drop him off, and I'll take a look at him though."

An emotion he couldn't recognize flickered briefly across her face, before that wide smile emerged again.

"Excellent. I'm sure we can work something out! It sure has been good seeing you again, Bareback Larabee!" She laughed lightly at Chris's grimace of distaste.

"I'll see you later, then."

She waved prettily, and reluctantly turned away to her car. Chris frowned after her for a moment, then went in pursuit of his lover. It wasn't like Vin to retreat like that. Something had unsettled him. Knowing Ella's tastes, he had a good idea of the cause. Well, he could take care of that.

Ella Gaines pulled out on the highway with an angry screech of tires, and spurting gravel. She was furious. Involved? With whom? Well, it doesn't matter. Chris was hers. She had worked her way through three wealthy husbands in her quest for money and power, and any woman fool enough to get in her way in her pursuit of the man she loved was easily dealt with. It just required a slight alteration to her plans. She smiled, and began to hum softly. Soon she and Larabee would be together forever.

Blossom's Gentleman's Club, Upper Suites

Buck whistled softly to himself as he strolled down the corridor, buttoning his colorful batik shirt as he went. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, the birds were singing , and he had just had a spectacular training session with one of the new girls. Life was good. Muted laughter, soft music, and the soft sounds of sex filtered through the closed doors of the rooms lining the hall. He grinned. Business was good, too!

Just as he reached the stairs, past the last door, he heard the sharp WHACK of leather striking flesh, followed by a muffled yelp and thump. He winced and paused, head cocked, to listen at the color coded black door. Best be sure old Judge Newcomer wasn't getting more than he paid for. Wouldn't do for the old fart to croak on the premises. After a tense moment, he heard another WHACK, followed by the throaty, commanding purr of a woman's voice, and the Judge babbling in happy agreement.

Buck shook his head. Damn. That visiting Austrian dominatrix is good. Chuckling, he headed down the stairs, another exuberant WHACK, followed by an ecstatic yelp, echoing behind. He made a mental note to have Lydia give the woman a raise, and a contract offer. Maybe later he would see for himself if she was as skilled with a velvet flogger as a she was with the cat 'o nine tails.

Buck wasn't into pain. Pain was ugly, and Buck hated ugly. Glancing at his watch, he grinned. It was almost time to head out to Chris's for the weekly barbeque. Reaching the club's ground level, he was pleased to see JD seated at a back table with his laptop. The boy had been surly and withdrawn since the night of Chris's welcome home party.

JD had been furious to learn that Buck had put Casey on a bus out of town, not to mention humiliated by the fact that Buck had turned him over his knee and belted his ass for using drugs. Since then, he had avoided everyone, and barely spoken a word to Buck.

The fact that an ass whipping was infinitely better than a bullet in the head had not yet dawned on the kid. If Chris had found out about JD's drug use, that would have been all she wrote. Larabee's tolerance for the hyperactive Dunne was minute on good days. Buck loved the kid enough to discipline him, something his doting mother had never done before her death.

Caroline Dunne had asked that Buck look after her son, after she discovered she had terminal cancer. She had been a maid who had worked in Buck's mother's brothel after no one would hire a pregnant, unwed teen. Buck had grown to love JD like a younger brother.

JD glanced up, saw the big man approaching, and hastily signed off his email account. He had no desire for Buck to learn that he was still in touch with Casey Wells. He and Casey had big plans for the future, and that future didn't include Buck Wilmington dogging his every move and ordering him around. He smirked to himself. He had plans to score big, then meet Casey in Mexico.

He had watched Lydia for days now, and knew the club payroll and deposit schedules by heart. He also knew that Chris ran a lot of money from the chop shop through Blossom's. All he needed now was the combination to the office safe. Then he would be home free, and Buck could go fuck himself.

Buck beamed fondly down at the boy. "Ready for some fine barbeque, kid?"

JD stood hastily and tucked his laptop in his backpack. Buck wrapped a big arm around him and gave him a companionable squeeze.

"Yeah, Buck. Are you sure Rain is bringing the ribs and steaks? You know I like Josiah, but his cooking scares me!"

Buck threw back his head and laughed out loud. "Hell, kid," he boomed, "'Siah's cooking scares everybody! But we got a long term plan to keep him occupied this summer." He drew JD towards the doors, waving to Lydia as they passed, as he happily elaborated on the gang's solution to the Sanchez Culinary Catastrophe, as Ezra termed it.

"See you and Inez there, Lydia!"

Looking up from the books, at her habitual seat at the end of the bar, she nodded absently in agreement. Eyes thoughtful, she watched the two men leave, Buck goosing the kid to hustle him out the door. Tucking an unruly strand of red hair behind her ear, she chewed lightly on the end of her pencil. JD was up to something. She was sure of it. Buck couldn't see it yet, he was too close, but it was there.

Lydia was a keen observer of human nature. That ability, coupled with high intelligence, had made her a highly successful businesswoman.

"That boy is headed for trouble." A quiet tenor voice spoke behind her.

Raphael Cordova de Martinez's lean form slid behind the bar. He pulled two shot glasses from a rack, and poured them both a shot of Kentucky sipping whisky.

Surprised at this verbal echo of her own thoughts, she arched a brow at him. He shrugged dismissively. "You are not the only one who watches, Lydia." She frowned questioningly. "Buck does not see. He is going to be hurt..." he continued. His cognac eyes dark with worry.

Lydia raised her glass to him. "Not if we both watch his back."

Raphael gave her a ghost of a smile. "It is easy to cover a man's back... but how do you shield his heart?" He clinked glasses with her, tossed back his shot, nodded, then turned and followed Buck and JD.

Lydia watched him go. She bit her lip thoughtfully. So, while she had been watching JD, Rafe had been watching Buck. Was he talking about Buck, or himself? Well, this was certainly something new to contemplate. She felt a secret smile curve her full lips. Good. Buck finally had a champion. A macho, hot-blooded Latin champion at that. She had watched Buck moon after Chris and Vin for the past few weeks, knowing he felt left out, and was helpless to offer solace.

Chris Larabee could be an arrogant, obsessive son of a bitch when he chose to be, and right now Vin Tanner was his focus. Their relationship had deepened over the past weeks, their love obvious to anyone with functional eyes. Chris took deep pleasure in flaunting his affection for Vin. He delighted in public displays of affection that left Tanner flushed and tongue-tied with embarrassment. The alpha of the Dark Angels didn't give a rat's ass about public opinion. Vin was his, and if he wanted to touch him, or kiss his mouth in public, he would, and God help any asshole who objected.

Lydia sighed softly. While Buck and Chris had history together, she knew that deep down Buck refused to accept the fact that Chris had moved on with the young sharpshooter. She just hoped that Raphael would make his move before Buck did something stupid that could possibly irreparably damage his friendship with Chris. Buck had a mulish tendency to push too hard, and leap before he looked. That trait had landed his ass in trouble before. She loved the big, soft-hearted rogue, and didn't want see him hurt.

Huffing out a soft breath, she turned to the back offices. There were some changes to be made and safeguards to be put in place. She had watched JD watch her over the past couple of weeks, and she thought she knew what he had planned. She shook her head in exasperation. The boy was a young fool. She just hoped she and Buck would be able to keep him from doing something that might get him killed. In the meantime, she would watch, and be ready to move.

Kensington Townhomes, Four Corners.

Ezra Standish stood meekly in the middle of his stylish living room, cell phone clutched to one ear. His green eyes were wide with horror. "Yes, mothah. No, mothah. Whatever you think is best mothah. Yes, mothah. Ah love you too, mothah. Goodbye, mothah."

He dropped the phone onto the antique settee, and sank down heavily, head in hands. He groaned piteously. He could feel one of his sick headaches coming on. Dear Lord in heaven, Maude was coming for a visit. He fought down wistful thoughts of fleeing the country, and stumbled into the bathroom. Perhaps a hot shower would help. Then he would go to the wretched barbeque and imbibe alcoholic beverages until he passed out. Better yet, perhaps one of Mr. Sanchez's gastronomic disasters would put him forever out of his misery.

Jackson Mortuary, Apartment above

Rain Jackson watched with amusement as Nathan checked the cooler for the fourteenth time to insure that she had indeed, packed the ribs and steaks. He was leaving nothing to chance. She snickered unkindly. "It's all there, Sugar. Just like the last time you checked."

He sniffed, and rolled his eyes at her."I know, I know...I was just--"

"--making sure."

He glared at his pretty wife, and huffed. "Well, fine. But you know how much Josiah loves to cook. If he shows up with some of his special cut, what are we gonna do?"

She beamed at him. "Feed it to Vin's cat?"

He brightened for a moment, then frowned doubtfully. " I dunno, Miss Lily is an awful little kitty cat..." He chuckled, and grinned broadly down at her, "Maybe we can buy Chris a dog for his birthday next month!"

"A BIG dog!"

"A big HUNGRY dog!"

They snickered together happily, both imagining Larabee's reaction upon receiving a big, slobbering, goofy dog as a present. Laughing together, they picked up their cookout supplies and headed out the door.

Larabee's Ranch

Chris warily entered the gloom of the barn. "Alligator's gone, pard. You can come out now." He called jokingly.

Vin emerged from a stall, a bate of hay in hand. He arched a questioning brow.

"Ella Alligator Gaines is what we used to call her." Chris clarified with grin. "Chomped her way through half the football team one night."

"That the one that fucked the daylights out of Buck, an' left him passed out stark nekkid on the football field?"

Chris snickered unkindly. "That would be the one."

"That the one that you was gonna marry?"

Vin slanted a sideways look at Chris as he stuffed the fresh hay in a feed net in the empty stall. Chris gave an irritated snort.

"Hell, no! That's the one that thought I was stupid enough to marry a nymphomaniac! Had to join the damned Navy and move halfway across the country to get away from the bitch."

He shook his head in remembrance of Ella's blind persistance. She had tried everything to persuade Chris to marry her, up to pretending to be pregnant with his child. That scheme had fallen apart when he calmly pointed out he had used protection the few times that they had sex, and that she had also fucked almost every man he knew. He shuddered. Sooner marry a gator.

He made a mental note to have Ezra run a check on her. Red Rock Butte was too damned close for comfort, and that business of the Rivera's selling their beloved ranch set off alarm bells. Besides, it struck Larabee as strange that the woman would show up living so close, after all these years.

Vin slanted him the crooked grin he loved so much.

"Reckon Buck was right."

Puzzled, he arched a scarred brow. "Right about what?"

"Reckon Bareass Larabee WOULD fuck an alligator in the old days!"

Vin snickered, and dodged as Chris lunged at him with a pretend snarl. He sidestepped the blond, and would have made it out the barn door if Larabee hadn't snaked a long arm out and snagged his belt. He was laughing too hard to put up a good fight as Chris dragged him into the clean stall and pinned him smugly down in the straw. Bright green eyes glared down into laughing blue. Chris settled his weight more securely on his chuckling lover and gave him an evil smirk.

"I reckon my tastes have changed," he purred. He enjoyed watching those dark blue eyes dilate with anticipation. He leaned down and licked a lazy path from collarbone to earlobe, which he nibbled leisurely. Vin shuddered with pleasure beneath him.

"Reckon I prefer the taste of Texas Wildcat," he continued teasingly as he bit one tiny brown nipple sharply enough to make Vin yelp, then began to suckle strongly. Vin arched beneath him and cried out at the exquisite sensations that sent instant heat pooling into his groin. Keeping Vin's wrists pinned above his head with one hand, Chris began to peel open their clothes with the other.

They were unaware of the two interested sets of eyes observing. One bright, slanted set belonged to a small, gray cat perched up in the hayloft. She peered sleepily at the two writhing lovers for a few seconds, then curled back up to resume her interrupted nap. Those two were at it again! Worse than tomcats.

The second, big and brown, watched wide-eyed from the door of the barn. Beauty's colt had managed to nose open the paddock gate and gone in search of Vin. He snorted in amazement. He was just in time! The tall, black clad man who yelled at him all the time was fighting with HIS Vin, making him struggle and cry out! He gave a little squeal of outrage; flipped his stubby tail up, flattened his ears, snaked his head out with big equine teeth bared, and charged to the rescue.

CHOMP!

"Goddamned, sonuvabitchin' little black bastard! I'm gonna skin his ass alive!" An outraged Larabee howled in pain, eyes watering, as he clamped a hand to his wounded ass, and rolled off Vin. "He bit me! That little fucker bit me!"

He glared murderously up at the colt, who pawed the ground, tossed his head, curled his lip, and whinnied defiantly right back at him. Vin took one wide-eyed look at the unlikely standoff and howled with laughter, rolling helplessly in the straw. Chris shot a deadly glare at his lover, then peered over his own shoulder attempting to access the damage to his painfully throbbing buttock. The little devil would wait until he had his pants down!

He snarled, "Horse, I'm gonna sell you to the first man who offers me a plug nickle for your ornery hide!"

Vin managed to push himself upright and fumbled in his jeans pocket. Still gasping for breath and snickering helplessly at the sight of stubborn man versus ornery colt, he pulled out his lucky coin. "Ain't got no nickle, will ya take a peso?"

He offered the coin to the outraged Larabee, before keeling over in the straw for another round of laughter, helplessly clutching his ribs.

"Hell, he ain't worth a damned peso! You want the little bastard, he's yours! Next time he bites me though, he's gonna be dog food!"

Chris scowled down at his lover, as he gingerly rubbed his ass, trying to keep a wary eye on his small, equine nemesis at the same time. Vin sat up suddenly, eyes wide and bright.

"Ya mean it? Fer real, I kin have him?"

Surprised, Chris turned back to look at Vin. The younger man's face was glowing, his blue eyes searching Chris's face anxiously. Larabee realized suddenly that the casual gift of this ornery, ass-biting horse meant a great deal to his young lover. Vin had very few possessions, and each one was cherished. Unaware of the soft smile on his own face, Larabee answered softly, "Yeah, Vin. If you want him he's yours."

The sudden glint in Vin's eyes surprised him as much as the fierce, desperate hug Vin gave him. Startled, Chris held him close, and gently patted his back and smoothed his tangled hair. He kissed Vin's hot cheek, smiling as Tanner hid his flushed face against his shoulder. Emotions were unfamiliar, embarrassing territory for Vin, best hidden. Unable to resist that handsome, scarlet face he coaxed Vin's head up and nuzzled along the strong jaw seeking a deeper, more satisfying kiss. A warning snort jolted them apart, and made Larabee freeze, then glare green fire.

"Better do something about YOUR damned horse Tanner, before I shoot him!"

Vin snorted, and hastily wiped his face on his sleeve.

"Ain't afraid of no itty bitty one peso colt are ya, Larabee?" He struggled upright and bent to give Chris a hand up. He whistled in awe at the neat set of black and purple teeth marks set squarely in the center of Chris's left ass cheek. "Damn! He got ya good, Chris! I can count every toothmark!"

"Well, I can FEEL every goddamned toothmark!" Chris groused sourly, suddenly realizing that now that he had gifted the black devil to Vin, he was probably stuck with the wretched horse for life. He gave a resigned sigh. He really had to think these things through more often. Damn. He leered down at Vin. "You gonna kiss it and make it better, Tanner?"

Vin snorted and looped Chris's arm over his shoulder, and helped him limp towards the house, Chris holding his pants up with one hand and still glaring daggers back at the colt.

"Reckon I kiss yer ass often enough as is, Lar'bee!" He retorted, blue eyes twinkling at Chris's expression as he continued to glare holes in the colt's glossy hide.

"Least you can do is help me unload the truck!" Larabee grumbled. He slid a sly look across at Vin. "I stopped at Sweet Sue's and got some of those gawdawful fluorescent cupcakes you like so much," he coaxed.

Vin brightened. Sweet Sue's Emporium sold only the most sinful confections in Four Corners. Sue refused to stock anything fat free, and her tiny shop held only the richest handmade chocolates, delicious fresh pies and cakes, and homemade ice cream. Vin adored her.

"Them with the purty purple, green, yellow and red swirls?"

"Yep." Chris grinned at the anticipation on Tanner's face.

"And ice cream?"

"A half gallon of fudge ripple, and one of peach." Larabee confirmed.

"Well, I reckon I could give ya a hand," Vin conceded graciously.

Larabee scowled back over his shoulder at their frisky equine shadow. "And put that little shit back in the corral," he ordered. "Padlock the damned gate if you have to!"

Oblivious to the imminent threat to his life, little Peso whinnied, and trotted along happily behind, stubby tail switching busily.

"He sure is a smart 'un, ain't he Chris?" Vin said proudly.

Larabee just snarled in reply.

Rivera Ranchero, Red Rock Butte

Ella Gaines stormed up the paved walk and into the luxurious, hacienda style home. Her high heels clicked angrily as she stalked through the marble floored entryway towards the den. She flung her scarf and shoulder bag into the startled maid's face as she passed. Once there, she snatched up the phone and dialed quickly. Long, scarlet nails tapped impatiently on the mahogany desk as she waited for a response.

"Harper!" she snarled. "You fucked up. Your information was wrong. Larabee IS involved with someone!" She listened for a few minutes.

"I don't care. I want to know who, and I want a team out here to take care of her."

An evil smile curved her wide mouth.

"I want it slow and painful before the slut dies."

She shook her head impatiently at the low response.

"I don't care how much it costs. Just get a team out here. You take care of it personally".

She slammed the phone down. Her face was tight with rage as she went to the sideboard, and poured herself a brandy. Calming as she sipped the drink, she headed down the hall, and up the stairs to her bedroom. Kicking off her heels she padded across the plush burgundy carpet to stare up at the enlarged photograph that hung on the wall directly across from her large, canopied bed. Dreamily, she smiled up at the image.

"Soon, my darling. Soon."

Slowly she began to undress, imagining as she did that Chris's big hands were sliding the straps of her dress off her shoulders and down her narrow hips. She began to hum softly to herself, caught up in her own world, as she slowly began to touch herself.

The photo depicted a stark white room, where a younger Chris Larabee sprawled nude, belly down, across a wide white-sheeted bed. Handsome face relaxed and vulnerable in sleep, eyes closed, thick lashes shadowed his cheek, full lips opened to reveal a hint of teeth. His hands were lax, long golden furred legs sprawled akimbo in afternoon sunlight. His creamy buttocks were a pale contrast to his deeply tanned torso and legs. The barred pattern of sunlight and shadow from a Venetian blinds stippled across his skin, and picked up a thousand grace notes of gold in his blond hair. Frozen forever innocent in sleep, he slumbered on, oblivious to Ella and her machinations.

Larabee's Ranch, Early afternoon

Chris leaned gingerly back in his deck chair, beer in hand. Despite his bruised ass, he was enjoying the afternoon. The cookout was a big success, especially since the plan to distract Josiah was working. Larabee hid a smile behind a hand at the sight of Sanchez, stationed solemnly at the grill. He had a tall chef's hat perched on his gray head and wore a Kiss the Cook apron, his long face intent as he diligently flipped steaks. Vin's cat sat alertly at his feet, small, rapt, bewhiskered face just as intent on Josiah. The big man scored high in Miss Lily's book, he always carried kitty treats. Besides, he might just drop a steak.

Nathan and Rain were curled up, cuddling in the big hammock under the twin oaks, while they chatted with Inez and Lydia. Ezra sat glumly at the picnic table, drowning his sorrows at an impending Maude visit in an enormous margarita. JD was seated across from him, trying valiantly to cheer him up with awful jokes. Tiny and Yosemite were arguing pro wrestling with Tito and Juanito under the big willow tree, while their wives and girlfriends unpacked various foodstuffs. Buck was in the kitchen, in search of more beer. Raphael lounged against the deck rail, eyes on the distant mountains.

Larabee's smile widened in welcome when he saw Vin finally wander up from the barn. The younger man had succeeded in corraling baby Peso, as he was now called, and had been spending some quality time with his horse. Vin tended to shy away from people at the best of times, even those he knew.

Vin's eyes crinkled as he smiled down at Chris. "Hey, Cowboy. Ya save me any beer?"

Chris leered up at him, eyes bright. He took a long pull from the bottle he held, then arched a blond brow. His voice was a rumbling purr, "I saved you a taste..." He licked his lips lazily, enjoying the rosy flush that flowed over Tanner's face in response to his blatant flirtation. He flashed white teeth in a hungry grin. "Why don't you come here and get it?"

Vin snorted, knowing better then to get within arm's length. Chris would think nothing of pulling him down in his lap and groping him in front of God and everybody. "Yer a slut, Larabee!"

"And that's a problem, how--exactly?"

Laughing softly, Vin started past him into the house to fetch his own beer, only to have Chris snake a long leg out and hook a bare foot around his calf. He raised a questioning brow and smirked when Chris waved his empty as he lazily caressed Vin's leg with his foot.

"I might fetch ya another...if ya ask real nice."

"Oh, I'll be real nice..." Larabee purred.

Shaking his head, Vin continued on into the house. Crossing the den, he headed down the hall to the kitchen. Reaching a hand out, he gently touched the locked door of Adam's room as he passed.

Chris kept the room an untouched shrine to his dead son. Under a thin layer of dust lay the beloved relics of the short life of a little boy. The bunk beds, the toy box, the cluttered bookshelf, the herd of Breyer horses on the dresser. All remained frozen in time, as though waiting for Adam's return. Nothing of Sarah Connelly Larabee remained in the house.

Upon her death, Chris had stripped the house of her possessions and anything that bore her touch. Her remaining clothes and jewelry, and any photos were sacrificed in a drunken, backyard bonfire. Anything in the house that she had chosen or bought was gone, from the contents of her former home office to the lace edged curtains that had adorned the kitchen windows. Chris had exorcised her presence ruthlessly from his life. He would never forgive her for her betrayal of his love and trust.

Vin sighed sadly. Anything that hurt Chris, in turn hurt him. Reaching the big, sunny kitchen, he opened the fridge and bent to pull out a couple of chilled longnecks. As he straightened, two big hands lightly clasped his hips, then slid around his waist. Vin froze instantly, recognizing the rich scent of Aramis and the big body crowding behind him.

He wasn't really surprised. Buck had been subtly pushing into his space for a couple of weeks now. The big man had always been touchy-feely, but lately he was blatantly flirtatious, using any opportunity to compliment Vin, or brush up against him. At first Vin had thought Buck was just trying to make up for when Vin had caught him with his head in Chris's crotch, but he had gradually come to recognize it for what it was. Buck wanted Chris, had always wanted Chris, so if that meant cosying up to Vin in order to have a chance with him, then so be it.

Vin could not, and would not share Chris with anyone. Larabee was the one living soul he allowed close to him, and that was that. Buck might fuck anything that was willing but that wasn't Vin's nature. Vin had been abused too much in his past to allow it.

Buck spoke huskily into his ear, "Looking mighty good, Vin."

"Take yer hands off me, Bucklin." Vin's voice was cold, but calm.

"Now, Vin, no reason to get hostile...we got a lot in common. We should get to know each other better..."

"You been drinking too much, Buck. Let go 'ah me!"

Tanner twisted and rammed a hard elbow back into Buck's ribs. When Buck oofed and stepped back, Vin slipped around him and out the kitchen door, the screen door slamming angrily behind him. Better to retreat than lose his temper and slam Buck's fool head into the wall.

Buck grimaced and leaned against the counter, rubbing his side, ruefully. Damn. That went well. Not one of my better ideas. Too much beer on an empty stomach.

"Buck." Larabee's voice was a soft, feral hiss.

Buck looked up to see the lean blond standing in the kitchen doorway, fists clenched, his handsome face tight with rage. Buck swallowed hard as the man stalked towards him, moving as silently as a big cat in his bare feet. Shit. Wilmington straightened and braced himself for the blow he knew was coming. Larabee stopped inches from his face.

Buck saw his fist raise, and closed his eyes. The loud crack of Chris slamming his palm against the cabinet beside his head made him jump, and jolted his eyes open.

Chris glared into his oldest friend's surprised eyes, fighting hard to keep his temper. When he spoke his voice was low and intense. Buck could feel his hot breath on his face.

"You're pushing it, Buck. You're pushing my patience. I'm only gonna give you this one warning. You want to stay my friend, you keep your goddamned hands off of Vin. You touch him again without his consent, and I'll kick your ass."

Larabee clamped one big hand around Buck's throat and squeezed for emphasis. Leaning even closer, his cold green eyes bore into Buck's sober blue ones, willing him to understand just how serious he was.

"He's my one true thing, Buck. Mine. You keep your fucking hands off him. You got an entire whorehouse to keep you entertained." He paused. "We got history, Buck, but the past is the past. Don't make me regret it."

Chris released him and stepped back. His fists clenched again as he fought his black rage for control, and took a deep, hard breath.

"Chris...I--"

"Save it, Buck. You might want to be thinking about either apologizing, or leaving. Choice is yours."

Larbee's tone was the cold, distant one he used for strangers, or people he didn't like. Buck swallowed hard, and nodded slowly. Turning away, Chris slammed out the kitchen door after Vin.

Buck stood quietly in the kitchen, looking blindly at the floor. One big hand lifted to absently smooth his moustache. A movement in the hall made him look up. Raphael leaned against the doorjamb.

"You're a very lucky man." The handsome Hispanic man spoke quietly, dark eyes intent on Buck's face. Buck looked at him mutely. "You pissed off both Tanner and Larabee, and lived to tell the tale."

Buck sank heavily into a kitchen chair, stared bleakly up at him, huffed out a deep breath, then replied slowly. " I don't think I care for the cost, pard."

Raphael walked over and stood gazing down at him. He suddenly reached out and lightly cupped Buck's face, calloused thumb ghosting over the dimple in his chin. Buck blinked up at him in surprise. Raphael gave him a tiny smile. "You are a smart man, Buck, but sometimes you fail to see what is in front of your face."

He continued to caress the handsome face for a long moment, rich brown eyes holding dark blue. Then, abruptly releasing him, he turned to rejoin the others. He stopped and looked back.

"When you are finished mooning over a man you never had, who does not want or appreciate you, let me know."

He walked away, boot heels clicking down the hall, leaving a stunned, open mouthed Buck Wilmington with something new to contemplate.

Chris found Vin in the barn. He stood staring blindly into Pony's stall, one hand absently stroking the horse's velvet nose, the other still clutching the forgotten bottles of Corona.

"That my beer?"

Chris approached him quietly, knowing how easily Vin spooked. Vin turned slowly towards him, his face a blank mask. Chris reached a slow hand out, relaxing a bit when Vin blinked, and handed him a bottle. Vin's eyes slid away from Larabee's, dropped to his battered boots.

"It's okay, Cowboy. You didn't do anything wrong. It's just Buck being Buck. Thinking with his dick instead of his head. I set him straight." Larabee spoke gently to that downcast face, and gently reached out and pushed Vin's hair back so he could see his eyes. Those troubled eyes flicked briefly up to his, before dropping again.

"He still alive?" Vin's voice was raspy, his Texas accent more evident, an indication of how upset he was.

Larabee felt a smile curl his lips."Yep. I didn't even punch him." Vin raised a brow. Chris sighed. "Okay, I might have hit the cabinet." The brow climbed higher."Okay, I DID hit the cabinet."

Larabee huffed. He WAS working on managing his bad temper. Buck WAS still alive. The corner of Vin's mouth twitched minutely. Chris took that as a good sign and sidled close enough to reach out and toy with a strand of Vin's hair. He smiled into those dark blue eyes, willing the younger man to see the humor in the situation.

That lopsided grin blossomed, and relieved, Chris leaned in to kiss it. He slid both arms around his partner and wrapped him in a warm embrace as their kiss grew deep and wet. Vin's hand reached up to cup Larabee's neck and card through his blond hair. Chris had let it grow out of the spiky cut he had sported in jail, and Vin loved to run his fingers through it.

Their intimate moment was rudely interrupted by the stentorian bellow of Josiah's deep bass from across the barnyard. The food was ready, and everyone was to get their asses in gear and come eat, before he fed it all to the cat. They broke apart sniggering. Chris kept one possessive arm around Vin's shoulders as he steered him towards the house. "You think Miss Lily could eat all that?" he joked with Vin.

Vin gave an exasperated snort. "Reckon she would try. Already looks like a fluffy bowling ball with legs and itty bitty feet." He gave Chris a sharp look. "Reckon you feed her too much as it is."

Outraged, Larabee's jaw dropped at the accusation.

"I FEED her too much? Who rode all the way into town the other night just because we were out of tuna fish?"

Tanner flushed and defended himself hotly. "Reckon I might have wanted a tuna sandwich."

"You HATE tuna fish!" Still bickering they ambled up the drive to the house. Larabee smirked across at Vin. "You spoil that cat, Tanner, not to mention that damned man-eating horse!"

Vin smirked right back at him.

"How's yer ass, Lar'bee?" He asked sweetly.

Chris gave him a silent snarl, then a cunning smile spread across his face, he leaned in close.

"Reckon I'm gonna need you to take a look at that later, Pard. Might need you to doctor it some more."

A broad, evil grin spread across the younger man's face. "Reckon we should have Rain take a look at it, her bein' a doctor and all. Might be ya need a tetanus shot."

He quickened his pace towards the house.

Larabee blanched at the thought of everyone else learning about his embarrassing injury. He hurried after Vin, only to yelp as he stepped on a sharp rock. Cursing, he hopped painfully in pursuit of the sniggering Texan. Damn, it was difficult to limp well, when you were lame in both legs!

"Now, Pard, let's not be hasty..."

Vin kept walking. Chris gave a resigned snort, stopped, and crossed his arms.

"Alright, what's it gonna cost me for you to keep quiet?"

Vin turned back, and gave him a look of wide-eyed innocence.

"Cost? Was only thinking about yer INJURY, Cowboy..." This last was pitched loudly enough to carry across the yard.

A sharp pair of brown eyes narrowed and focused on Larabee. "Injury? Who's hurt?" Rain Jackson demanded, hands on hips. Beside her, Nathan flashed a wide, predatory grin. JD's head swiveled around, and Chris could almost see his ears perk up. Like jackals, they could sense wounded prey. Chris hung his head in defeat.

"Ah, shit."

Chris Larabee gazed blearily up at the shadowed ceiling of his bedroom. He was sprawled out, flat on his back, long limbs akimbo on the cobalt blue sheets. He was breathing hard. Goddamned Texan was going to kill him. He knew damned well they had put a new set of dents in the wall behind the headboard. It was a wonder the box springs hadn't collapsed!

Vin lifted his head from where it was pillowed on a long, lean thigh and lazily licked the taste of Chris from his swollen lips. He grinned at the glazed, well laid look on his lover's face. The grin grew broader as Larabee weakly flailed a hand in his direction, probably trying to pull him up into an embrace. Too damned bad. Vin wasn't finished yet. The man had some serious meat on him, and Vin wanted another taste.

Chris moaned softly as he felt Tanner lightly blow across his soft, well sucked cock. Vin wasn't done with him yet! Damn. He wondered vaguely if he would be able to walk tomorrow. Damned Texan was gonna milk him dry. He licked his own lips, still tasting the bittersweet flavor of Vin. He moaned again as Vin delicately lapped at the fat mushroom head of his cock.

Clasping the organ by its thick root with one hand, he gently, relentlessly kneaded Chris's fat ball sac with the other. All the while, he continued to paint Chris's cock head with slow, dainty, cat like licks of his tongue, lapping up the droplets that oozed from the tiny slit.

Larabee groaned thickly at the unbearably sweet sensation pooling in his loins. His thighs quivered with tension. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He gave a feeble croak, and tried again. "V-v-vin! T-o-o, too...sen-sen..."

He gasped for breath, eyes rolling up in his head, back arching helplessly. Vin took pity on him and raised his head, watching Chris's face with hungry anticipation. Patiently, he gave Larabee a few seconds to catch his breath and waited until the blond's hazy eyes focused on his face before deliberately lifting a hand to his mouth and sucking the index finger. Larabee's eyes widened. Vin's hot gaze held him mesmerized, as he realized what was about to happen.

Vin removed the wet digit from his mouth with a deliberate slurp. He slipped it easily under Chris's balls, and into his ass. Eyes on his lover's flushed face, he began to finger fuck him lazily, opening his tight hole. Chris cried out and clenched tight, as his soft cock began to flush rosily and lengthen again. Vin gave him a slow, feral smile. Larabee had teased him all damned day. It was payback time.

"I'm gonna fuck you now, Cowboy." He growled throatily. He removed his hand, and slapped Chris's uninjured ass cheek, hard. "Roll over, get on yer hands and knees, and show me that sweet ass."

Chris swallowed hard at the cool note of command in Tanner's raspy voice. Vin didn't take the reins often but when he did, Larabee could count on being rode hard and put up wet. Silently, he rolled over, braced his hands on the long suffering headboard, and presented his backside to his lover. He was already breathing hard in anticipation. Chris felt the mattress shift as Vin moved lazily into position behind him, one hand braced on Chris's hip, the other slowly slicking his erect cock up with lube.

Vin deliberately nudged his cock head up between Larabee's thighs, giving him a taste of the hard length he was about to take. He kneaded the tight ass cheeks, and lightly humped between his legs, ignoring Larabee's yelp as he squeezed the area bruised by Peso's bite. Finally, he mounted Chris, spreading him wide, and pushing his long, slick, hard length steadily inside, until he was buried to the root. Larabee cried out and bucked helplessly beneath him.

Strong fingers biting into the tender skin of Chris's hips, Vin pushed a knee between Larabee's muscular thighs, forcing them apart, widening his stance, so he could deepen the angle of his thrust. Shifting, he sank his weight on his man's broad back, leaning over to dig his teeth into Larabee's shoulder, one hand darting up to knot into his hair and hold him still. Chris yelped at the stinging pain. Tanner held him there a moment, tongue lazily lapping at his mark, then he slapped Chris's ass to get him moving, and began to thrust.

Vin fucked him with easy, steady strokes, setting an almost hypnotic pace. Chris panted, groaned, and pushed back against Tanner's crotch, relishing the feel of the coarse silk of Vin's pubic hair against his ass, the hot slap of heavy balls against his own. He clenched hard on every downstoke to keep Vin deep.

They began to move in sync, rutting noisily, then Vin abruptly growled and quickened the pace, thrusting hard and deep as he sought his pleasure, balls smacking wetly against Chris's ass cheeks, strong hands holding the lean hips hard enough to bruise. Chris was nearly berserk with sensation beneath him, white-knuckled hands gripping the headboard as he bucked back hard, seeking continuous stimulation to that tiny hot spot of perfect ecstasy deep inside.

The bed springs creaked, and the headboard pounded out a steady accompanying beat. Vin cracked a calloused palm hard against Larabee's pale ass, and that was all it took to bring them both over the edge. Larabee clenched tight. Vin spurted deep inside of Chris, who in turn anointed the sheets. They yelped and howled into their climax like a pair of horny coyotes, and collapsed into a sweaty, sticky, groaning heap; Vin still buried root deep.

They fell asleep like that, Chris sprawled face down in the pillows, Vin plastered on top of him, arms around his waist, their long legs entangled, tousled, curly head heavy on Larabee's shoulder. Dual sated, purring snores filled the cool night air.

A little gray cat hopped up on the end of the bed, tiny pink nose wrinkling fastidiously at the pungent odor of male musk. They were finally still! Damned tomcats. She curled up to join them in sleep, her steady purring blending with their snoring.

Larabee was awakened by a hoarse, equine scream of rage, and the clang of metal being battered by angry hooves. Startled, he sat up, aware that the morning sun was streaming through the window. He had slept late, Vin was already up and gone. Rolling out of bed, he shuffled over to peer out the window.

A glossy red horse van was parked down by the corral, and he recognized a familiar tousled head bent in conference with a stout Hispanic stockman. The latter was talking and gesturing wildly in expansive, dramatic gestures as he explained something to an absently nodding Vin. Two other men stood diffidently to one side, wary eyes on the angry stallion in the trailer.

"Shit. Ella's damned horse."

Larabee hobbled over to the closet and yanked out an old pair of jeans and a T-shirt. After a pit stop in the bathroom he ambled down to the corral to see what was going on. Vin's eyes twinkled at him over the shorter man's shoulder, amused at Larabee's lame gait.

"Morning Cowboy! Senor Aguilar here has a delivery for ya."

Larabee squinted sourly at his young partner. Tanner was entirely too perky this morning. Especially after last night. One of these mornings he was just gonna shoot him and be done with it. That would teach him.

"Buenos dias, Senor Larabee. I am pleased to meet you."

The short, stocky Hispanic beamed up at Chris. He offered a broad, calloused palm. Chris took it and shook. He turned to the trailer and eyed the wild-eyed horse within. "I take it this is Ella's problem horse?"

"Si, Senor. This one is a devil. Last week he nearly stomp Luis all the way to Hell. No one has been able to work him. Senora Gaines say to bring him to you."

Senor Aguilar indicated one of the nearby stockmen with a gesture. Luis nodded glumly in agreement, never taking his eyes off the snorting stallion.

"Well, let's unload him, and take a look."

Larabee indicated the nearby corral with the tall, heavy-duty reinforced fencing that he used to gentle the horses in. Vin stepped forward, lariat in hand, bright, interested eyes on the big horse. "Let me have him, Cowboy."

Chris quirked a blond brow, questioningly. Vin smiled and nodded back. "Okay, Pard, he's all yours." Larabee turned to the nearby men. "Open it up."

The moment the gate clanged down, the handsome blood bay surged out. A broken lead rope trailed from his battered halter. Vin had him lassoed before he stepped off the ramp. Squealing with rage, the stallion reared, hooves lashing out. Vin spoke gently, his husky Texas drawl a soothing murmur. He never raised his voice, or made a sudden move. He stood patiently, waiting out the stud's temper tantrum.

Curious, the horse dropped down to all fours, pawing nervously. He danced uneasily at the end of the rope for a few minutes, then his ears pricked at that gentle drawl. He snorted and took a tentative step towards Vin. Tanner continued to speak gently to the bay, crooning a soft soothing litany. The big horse extended his handsome head, nostrils flared, snuffling suspiciously. Vin waited. Nervously the bay paced forward, ears still pricked, bright, intelligent eyes alert for any sudden movement from this man.

Vin stood like a stone. As the animal tentatively approached, he lowered his already soft voice, almost to a whisper. Small ears pricked forward to catch every word. The stud stopped a few feet away from Tanner. He slowly extended a velvety black nose to whuff cautiously at Vin's extended hand. Chris saw that Vin held a small piece of soft molasses candy. The stud nosed his palm, velvet lips removing the candy delicately.

Chris glanced sideways at the soft gasp from Senor Aguilar. The man's dark eyes were wide with astonishment. Chris smirked proudly. Tanner had an intuitive way with all wild things. Shit, he was feral himself. It wasn't surprising that he already had this animal literally eating out of his hand. Give him a week and the damned horse would probably be following him around like a puppy. Chris grimaced, and rubbed his bruised ass ruefully. Hell, Vin already had one pet devil!

They watched silently as Tanner turned slowly and led the stallion into the open corral. The horse followed calmly. Once inside, Vin carefully slid the lasso from the arched, glossy neck, coiling it over his shoulder. Still speaking softly, he slowly brought a hand up and rubbed the horse's jaw. The horse sniffed deeply at this man with the sweet voice and the gentle hands, breathing in the comforting scents of sun, hay, and cedar. To the watching men's surprise, Tanner reached up and slipped off the old halter as well.

Startled, the bay snorted and jerked back. He was surprised further when Vin made no attempt to restrain him. He stopped, snorting with astonishment. Where was the yelling, the curses, the harsh, stinging blows? Vin made no movement towards him, just continued to speak gently. Curious, the horse stepped cautiously forward again. He sniffed cautiously at Tanner's face, deadly teeth inches away, snorting softly when Vin huffed gently back into his nostrils in a polite equine greeting.

The bay whinnied softly, sighed deeply, and dropped his big head to boldly nudge Vin in the chest in a blatant request for attention. Vin spoke tenderly to the animal as he carefully stroked the handsome chiseled head, scratched behind his pricked ears, and smoothed a palm down the powerful neck. He frowned at the welts he felt on the glossy withers. This beautiful creature had been whipped recently.

The Mexicans leaning against the corral shook their heads and murmured in astonishment. This gringo must be a brujo, a male witch. He tamed with his voice alone. Senor Aguilar removed his straw stetson, and scratched his graying head in amazement. Luis muttered excitedly to his companion.

"Madre de Dios! Tiene una lengua de miel!"

Turning to Larabee, the older man translated. "He has a tongue made of honey!"

Chris turned and gave the man a broad, shit-eating grin. "You have no idea, amigo!"

Larabee waved goodbye as Senor Aguilar and his boys headed off up the drive. He turned and put one boot on the bottom rail and leaned against the corral. Vin was still gentling the stallion. The big animal was calm now, nosing gently against Tanner's shirt, making no attempt to move out of his reach.

He was a beautiful creature. A tall blood bay, with a flowing black mane and tail, he stood almost sixteen hands high. The stud was powerfully muscled, with long, clean limbs, and a smooth, easy gait. He stood quietly under Vin's hands, head up, looking around his new surroundings with interest, nostrils flaring. Vin gave him one last pat and turned back to Chris. His mouth was set in a grim line, as he walked over to join Larabee.

"What's up Pard?" Chris asked softly, recognising the signs of anger held under a tight leash.

Vin huffed out a breath and slapped the top rail as he climbed over. "He's been whipped, Chris. Recent too. Got fresh welts over old scars on both his withers and his flanks. Looks like someone used a quirt on him. He ain't a bad horse, he's just scared."

Larabee snarled. Nothing pissed him off more than to see an animal abused. He frowned, thinking back to what Senor Aguilar had told him about the horse. Supposedly, Ella had only purchased him recently. An ugly idea struck him. "Fuck."

Vin looked at him questioningly.

"Ella." Chris spat to one side and explained further. "She probably used him as an excuse to see me. She practically stalked me through my senior year of college. Once she gets an idea in that dim brain of hers it tends to stick."

Vin frowned. He knew about stalkers, and what usually happened to their victims. Better to kill the woman now, than give her the opportunity to harm Chris. He looked doubtfully at Chris. "She dangerous, Chris?"

Chris sighed. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing his bangs back. "Hell, she was harmless when I knew her before. I told Ez to run a check on her. He said her name was familiar; thought maybe Maude knew her. Let's wait and see what turns up."

Vin nodded slowly. He would reserve judgment for now. However, if the woman proved to be a threat to Larabee, then Vin would have no qualms about shooting her.

As usual, Chris read his mind. He gave his young lover an amused grin. "Can always blow her head off later, pard." Larabee leaned confidingly close, green eyes sparkling with wicked glee. "Senor Aguilar says you got a tongue made of honey. I just had to agree."

Vin blushed scarlet and scowled at Larabee.

Unperturbed, Chris flung an arm over the smaller man's shoulders, guiding him back to the house. They would leave the stallion to his trough of cool, fresh water, and bates of sweet hay. There would be time to work with him later, when the big horse felt settled and calm in his new surroundings.

"How about we head into town? The boys went through that ice cream so fast yesterday, I never even got a taste. We can meet Ez for lunch, and stop at Sweet Sue's for dessert...Honey."

Vin spun, whacked Larabee smartly on his sore ass with the coiled lariat he carried, then sprinted for the house. Larabee cussed, glared, and hobbled gamely in hot pursuit. Should have shot that boy years ago. He grinned suddenly in remembrance of their heated coupling the night before. On the other hand, maybe he would wait until he could walk straight again.

Kensington Townhomes, Four Corners

Ezra Standish put down the phone with a sigh. Mr. Larabee had requested his presence at lunch, at the Saloon. He groaned at the throbbing in his head, and peered through bloodshot eyes at the bedside clock. Lord, it wasn't even ten o'clock. An unspeakable hour. He hauled his aching body out of bed and made a mental note to himself to never, ever go out drinking with the boys after consuming several of Rain Jackson's lethal margaritas.

He shuffled into the spacious bathroom. He had vague memories of leaving the cookout, blearily ensconced in the sidecar of Mr. Wilmington's motorcycle, followed by a whirlwind round of bars and tequila shots.

Then Mr. Wilmington had insisted they all stop at that Body Art parlor...the one owned by the amazingly buxom redhead...someone nattering on about a special design...things became very hazy after that. He frowned, absently reaching back to rub his throbbing buttock. Had he passed out, taken a fall and bruised his hip? It was especially tender today.

Standish dropped his silk pajama bottoms and stepped into the gleaming shower cubicle. He sighed with bliss as the steaming water poured over his stiff, aching body. He soaped himself slowly, feeling much more refreshed, and marginally more awake.

After rinsing he stepped out, reaching for the plush bath sheet, and automatically checking his appearance in the foggy, floor length mirrors opposite the tub, before heading into his large walk-in closet. As he dropped the towel and turned to reach for his heavy silk dressing gown, something in the side mirror caught his eye. He froze, staring into his own horrified green eyes. They wouldn't dare...would they? He frantically wiped the steamy mirror and took a closer look. Blinked, and looked again. Slowly, he peered over his own shoulder.

An outraged shriek rang through the elegant townhouse as the horrible truth dawned. Those perfidious, treacherous, ignoble, shameless, unchivalrous bastards had had the gall to tattoo Ezra P. Standish's previously pristine posterior. There would be hell to pay.

Inez' Saloon, Outskirts of Four Corners

Chris Larabee eased the big, rumbling Harley into its customary line up with the other bikes parked outside of the Saloon. Vin pulled up beside him on the gleaming, blood red Honda Magma he was currently riding. Tanner's venerable Indian was up on blocks at the ranch, sidelined while the engine was rebuilt -- again. It was increasingly difficult to keep the antique bike on the road, but Vin loved it, and patiently searched for parts every time the damned thing decided to kick the bucket.

Chris grinned at his partner, enjoying the sight of that tanned, wind flushed face, the dark blue eyes bright and sparkling. Vin had his long hair knotted back in its usual tangled ponytail under a blue bandanna, and wore a battered leather vest sporting the Dark Angels logo over his denim shirt. His jeans were old and faded and clinging in all the right places. Larabee thought he looked mighty fine.

Glancing down the row of bikes, Larabee saw that Buck, JD, and Raphael were already present. Josiah was working at the convent gardens today, and presumably Nathan was at the Mortuary. To his mild surprise, he also saw Ezra's BMW parked nearby. He had just turned his head to comment to Vin on Standish's early arrival, when the sharp crack of a pistol shot from inside the Saloon jerked them to hyper alertness.

Larabee drew the Colt automatic he wore clipped in a belt holster at the small of his back. Vin had already fluidly yanked the compact Mossberg shotgun he favored from his bike's saddlebag, and racked a shell in. Moving swiftly and covering each other they shouldered their way inside the dim bar, guns leveled. It never occurred to either of them, NOT to enter.

What they found brought them up short. Inez stood behind the bar, hands on hips, glaring at the trio of Dark Angels huddled uneasily against the far wall. Everyone in the bar, with the exception of Inez, Ez and the three in the corner wore broad grins. Buck, Rafe, and JD huddled together, hands up, while Ezra Standish threatened them with a pearl handled derringer. There was a bullet hole in the plaster three inches to the left of Buck's head, and his moustache was twitching in consternation.

"Now Ez, don't be that way, you know we were ALL drunk..."

Buck spoke soothingly to try and calm the irate conman. The big scoundrel brightened at the sight of Chris and Vin, and waggled his brows in a silent plea for rescue.

"Yeah, Ez, ya ain't the only one! We all got one."

JD piped up from behind the relative safety of Wilmington's tall frame. Raphael sighed and closed his eyes. The whelp's motor mouth would be the death of them all. Chris and Vin exchanged amused looks, and lowered their weapons.

"Someone want to tell me what the hell's going on here?" Chris asked mildly, as he tucked his gun away.

Vin had already lowered his shotgun, so that the muzzle pointed to the floor. Inez turned and broke into a rapid stream of Spanish that made Larabee scratch his head in confusion and caused Vin to arch an amused brow. Buck started to step forward and explain, but hastily retreated when Standish aimed his gun directly at his balls. Buck opened his mouth, thought better of it, and meekly subsided in his corner.

Larabee lifted a hand to his mouth to hide his smile. Ezra was as mad as a wet hen. Chris could almost see the steam rising from the man's reddened ears. Apparently one of the boys' pranks was having unforseen repercussions. Inez reached the end of her tirade, tossed her head, and snorted disdainfully. Chris walked over to the bar, and leaned against it thoughtfully. "Let me see if I've got this straight. Y 'all did something to Ez, and he plans to shoot you dead. That it?"

The trio in the corner frowned, then nodded reluctantly. Ezra was so irate he was speechless for all of three seconds. He turned slightly so that he could speak with Larabee directly, and still keep the boys corralled.

"Did something? Did something?!" he bellowed, face scarlet with temper. "These ignoble, wretched, TREACHEROUS spawn of a syphilletic she-goat have assaulted mah person!"

Larabee's lips twitched as he manfully fought back a broad grin. Trust Ezra to use eight words when one would do. Beside him, Vin hastily muffled a snort in the mug of beer that Inez absently slid across to him. Every time Ez opened his mouth, Vin learned a new word.

Chris scratched his goatee thoughtfully, bright wicked eyes on three chagrined faces. He could feel Vin's shoulder shake with silent laughter against his back. He folded his arms, leaned back, and eyed his men solemnly. They began to look worried. Larabee raised a stern brow. "You all get drunk and cornhole Ezra?"

Behind him Vin sputtered and sprayed a mouthful of beer over the bar. Inez squeaked and clapped both hands over her mouth. Down the bar, Tiny rolled off his stool, braying with laughter, while his brother gamely tried to shush him. All the other bikers howled with mirth. In the corner, Raphael gave a choked, protesting squawk, JD stammered a shocked denial, and Buck's jaw dropped in disbelief. Ezra regarded his boss with horror, pistol sagging in his grip, as he visibly deflated. Larabee smirked.

Buck patted the morose conman gently on the shoulder. They all sat at the big corner booth, huddled over the remains of lunch. He pulled up the sleeve of his own T shirt to display the livid tattoo on his biceps.

"So ya see, pard, we all got skunked and came home decorated. Rafe has one on his shoulder, and the kid's is on the calf of his leg. You ain't the only one."

He draped a big arm comfortingly over Standish's drooping shoulders. Raphael and JD grinned encouragement at the Southerner. Larabee and Tanner smirked complacently at him across the table. THEY did not have tattoos. Ezra lifted his head and glared into Buck's earnest, beaming face. "Mr. Wilmington, be that as it may. I do however, note that none of you sport a design on the posterier! I also would also like to point out that not one of you carries THIS particular pattern."

Pushing himself abruptly up out of the booth, he turned his backside to the seated men, and lowered his trousers to display his left buttock. There was a moment of silence. Then Vin snickered, JD dropped his fork, and Rafe guffawed as he nearly choked on a mouthful of beer. Buck gaped, and a broad shark grin spread across Larabee's smirking face. They all burst into raucous, unkind laughter, while Standish rearranged his clothing and glared.

Buck sputtered, and wiped his streaming eyes with one big hand.

"Now Ez, it could be worse..."

JD chimed in earnestly, "The heart is real pretty, Ez."

"That bitty baby with the wings is right cute, Ez."

Ezra shot Vin a look of intense dislike. "THAT is a cherub, Mr. Tanner, not a bitty baby."

"Sorry, Ez." Mr. Tanner did not look sorry at all. He gave Standish an unrepentant grin.

"Too bad they spelled Mother wrong," Raphael added with a chuckle.

Vin scratched his head, contemplatively. "Reckon that must be the southern spelling."

Standish groaned and sank back down in the booth. He lowered his head to his arms. Buck patted his back soothingly. Maybe he would wake up and it all would be a bad dream. Instead of being surrounded by sniggering hyenas, he would be safely ensconced in his beloved feather bed. Instead of calculating the -- no doubt exorbitant -- cost of laser surgery, he could be blissfully asleep.

He raised his head and glared at his so called friends. THEY all sported the sleek, admittedly trendy upraised black-winged Dark Angel logo while HE bore a puffy red heart, complete with a tiny smirking cherub perched on top, and the word Mothah in bold, elaborate cursive scribbled on a pale blue ribbon that unfurled across the heart. Good Lord, the cretins could not even spell correctly! Only he bore the epidermal equivilant of graffiti upon his person. The sheer indignity of it all, was almost overpowering.

Larabee leered at him and leaned over to give him an encouraging slap on the shoulder. "Come on, Ez. Let's head for Sweet Sue's for dessert. Buck can buy you a slice of that pecan pie with the fancy French vanilla ice cream, you like so much. Then you can tell me what you found out about Ella."

Santa Maria Plaza, Four Corners

Ella Gaines twirled before the mirror in the exclusive bridal shop, checking the fit of the lavish lace gown she wore with a critical eye. She made a small moue of distaste, and turned to the patiently hovering clerk.

"No, this won't do either. Bring me that silk Vera Wang."

The clerk hurried away to fetch the gown, and Ella hummed softly to calm herself as she paced before the tall windows, waiting. She reminded herself to be patient. The perfect wedding to the perfect man required the finest dress available. She raised a bejeweled hand to toy with her hair, gazing dreamily down into the wide plaza.

Santa Maria Plaza was the heart of old town Four Corners. It had recently revitalized due to the trendy, exclusive shops that now joined the venerable establishments of Digger Dan's Bar and Potter's Mercantile. The old Saloon had relocated to the outskirts of town years before.

Sweet Sue's Emporium was tucked into a corner, flanked by a florist and an organic grocery. Restaurants and upscale boutiques crowded the old Spanish style square, which opened onto Main Street. Katherine's Bridal Shop covered half of the second floor of Potter's Mercantile. Only the wealthiest of Four Corner's brides shopped there as she sold only designer gowns.

Ella smiled, head full of visions of her upcoming life with Christopher Larabee. It would be perfect. She was certain of it. She started to turn back to the dressing rooms, then froze, her gaze caught by a familiar wheat gold head in the square below. Her wide smile faltered and died when she saw the lovely blond seated across from him. Their heads were bent close together, Larabee's eyes intent on her face, one big hand holding her wrist.

Chris Larabee leaned thoughtfully back in the cafe chair, and nodded absently as Ezra finished his tale. The debonair southerner dabbed daintily at his mouth with a napkin and eyed the remains of his pie with satisfaction.

"Ah will admit, Mr. Larabee, that Ah was surprised to learn that Mrs. Gaines had worked her way through three wealthy, elderly husbands in such a short time. Mothah was quite virulent about the subject, she has an extreme dislike of Mrs. Gaines. Ah believe her kindest comments were Black Widow and Whore. Ah suspect Mrs. Gaines may have whisked away a potential candidate for Mothuh's collection of husbands."

Maude Standish had standards. She might relieve a man of his dignity and every dime he possessed, but she would never be so crude as to murder one.

Larabee chuckled and polished his shades on a corner of his black Tee. He slid them back on and stretched lazily in the sun, blond head tilted back to enjoy the warmth. He grinned impishly at Standish. "I can't say I'm surprised. Ella always has been a man-eater in the worse sense of the word. Hell, she wore out Buck in a single night!"

Standish coughed, then laughed. "Mr. Wilmington was a very lucky man to have escaped, ahem, intact."

Larabee grinned. "Hell, Buck always has good luck with women. It's their men he has problems with! If I had a dime for every piece of shot I've dug out of his ass, I'd be a rich man."

They laughed together, both men gazing towards the florist. Buck and JD emerged, both laden with colorful bouquets. Buck, in true Wilmington style often brought flowers home to his girls at Blossom's.

He was flirting outrageously with the plump, grandmotherly proprietor as he left, leaning down to whisper something lewd in her ear. She threw her head back and roared with laughter, then swatted him affectionately on the ass and shooed him down the sidewalk. Shaking her gray head, she fondly watched him go.

Larabee shook his head and turned back to Ezra. "Ez, see if you can find out how much money Ella has inherited, where she keeps it, etc. Anything suspicious you can find out about how those husbands of hers met their untimely demises. Also, I want to know how she acquired the Rivera ranch. There's something funny about that. The Jorge Rivera I knew would never sell his family homestead, especially to a gringa."

The svelte conman rose from his chair and tipped an imaginary hat. "Ah live to serve, Mr. Larabee. Ah believe mothah would be extremely pleased to see Mrs. Gaines brought down a notch or two. She will be delighted to assist. She detests the woman. Ah will investigate post haste. Now, if you will excuse me, Ah have an appointment with my tailor."

He turned and strolled off across the square. Larabee lazily watched him go, sipping at the beer he held. Across the way, Buck and JD were stuffing flowers in the sidecar of Buck's bike, bickering amiably. Chris had always suspected that he kept the sidecar for the sole purpose of hauling an extra woman around, instead of just one. That theory seemed to pan out, considering the various sets of twins Buck dated.

Larabee snorted. Hell, Buck lived in and ran a whorehouse, owned a strip club, and dated half of the women in New Mexico, and now apparently had his sights set on Vin! It was a wonder Chris didn't have white hair instead of blonde. He huffed out an exasperated breath and ran a hand through his hair.

He knew Buck was restless and felt threatened somehow. He just didn't know how to reassure the big man without giving him the wrong idea. He loved Buck like a brother but had no intention of being his lover. Since the barbeque, tension had mounted between Buck and Vin. Vin hadn't said a word to Buck since, avoiding him whenever possible. Chris had the impression that Buck wanted to smooth things over, but wasn't sure how.

Sourly, he took another pull from the bottle, and looked around for his wayward lover. He squinted back into Sweet Sue's. Yep, there was a familiar tousled head bent over the candy display, with Sue beaming down at him. Probably buying more molasses candy for the horses. Chris devoutly hoped Vin didn't spoil the damned stallion the way he did Peso. A jealous colt was one thing to deal with, a stallion another. He snorted. That's all he needed, a jealous, 1800 pound horse, just waiting to stomp him into a greasy spot on the ground every time he laid a hand on Vin. Groaning, he realized that Peso WAS growing up fast. Shit.

Something bumped into his boot, and he looked down to find a small, remote controlled car had crashed against it and tipped over. He picked it up, turning it curiously in his big hands. Adam would have loved that. He thought with a pang.

"Hey! That's mine." A thin voice shrilled into his ear. A plump, blond boy of about eight hovered next to his chair, a remote clutched in his hands. Chris arched a scarred brow and scowled. "Are you a Hell's Angel?" The little boy piped up excitedly.

"No kid. I'm worse. Now scram!"

He handed the child the toy.

"Billy!"

Chris sighed, as he recognized the slender, platinum haired woman approaching at a fast clip. She wore a sky blue silk dress and had her pale hair tied demurely back with ribbon. Shit. It would be Mary Travis's whelp, and just as nosy as his damned mother.

"Billy! Go sit in the car. Wait for me."

"Aw, mom. I wasn't doin' anything." The child shuffled off sulkily to climb into a nearby silver Lexus.

She turned a flushed face towards Chris. The last time she had seen him had been...embarrassing. She felt a rosy flush spread tingling over her skin as he turned a handsome, expressionless face towards her, eyes hidden by dark sunglasses. He was the most dangerous man she knew, and undoubtedly the sexiest. He KNEW who was behind her husband's murder. She knew it. She yanked out the chair across from him and sat quickly. "Mr. Larabee...I want to ask you a few questions."

His wide mouth split into a leer. "Why sure, Miz Travis. Just as long as you answer mine in return."

His leer grew into a wide, shark grin and she felt the hair on the nape of her neck raise. She glanced around the plaza nervously. She had been elated to see him alone, he was so rarely without one of his gang nearby...or his...lover. Now, she wasn't so sure, and was thankful it was broad daylight and in a public place. Nervously, she began. " I think you know who murdered my husband..."

"Sure do," he replied amiably. Her jaw dropped in shock, only to snap shut as he continued. "The same man that killed my wife and son."

He deliberately removed his shades, leaned over and grasped her wrist hard, cold eyes intent on her face. "Tell ME something Miz Travis, if good old Stephen was meeting Sarah just for information, why did they meet twice a week at the Dew Drop Inn, and register as husband and wife?"

He leaned closer, and this time showed white teeth in something that was not a smile. He gazed almost tenderly into her pale face and spoke gently. "Go home, Mary. Get a life. Raise your son. Mind your own fucking business, and the next time you feel the need to moon over your sainted husband, remember that there were two sets of luggage in the truck that day."

He withdrew his hand, slid his shades back on, lazily leaned back, and took another sip of beer. Dismissing her as coolly as a king would a serf. Shaken, she opened her mouth, but found she could not speak. She rose dizzily, and, pushing her chair away, stumbled towards her car. Impassively, he watched her go.

Standing stock still in the window above, Ella dug her long nails viciously into her palms and bit her lip until she tasted blood. Her gaze was riveted on Larabee like that of a starving animal. Sensing the touch of eyes, she turned her head slightly, and focused past Larabee.

Dark hungry eyes met implacable, glacial blue. While she was watching Larabee, Vin Tanner was watching her. She froze, held by that laser sharp stare. He never blinked, just leaned against a post and stared until she shivered, dropped her eyes, and turned away. Predator had just met predator, and lost the first battle in a war she did not yet realize she was waging.

Ella turned a bright, false smile on the shop clerk and turned to indicate the plaza below.

"Tell me, who is that blonde woman? She looks so familiar..."

The woman adjusted her bifocals and peered out the window. She smiled in recognition.

"Why, that's Mary Travis. You probably saw her on the local news. She's a reporter with KLVN."

The clerk stepped behind Ella and began to help her undo the multitude of tiny buttons on the gown she wore. She sighed and shook her head. "It was so tragic. Her husband was killed about five years ago with a car bomb. The entire family went into shock. Why, I thought Eveline Travis would have to be hospitalized before it was over..."

She prattled on, while Ella nodded and smiled in all the right places, absorbing information. Her mind was busy sifting through what she had learned. Had Chris murdered the man in order to be with the wife? She frowned. That didn't make sense. He would have married or moved in with the woman by now. Also, the Christopher Larabee she knew would never callously murder his own son. Well, it didn't matter. The woman would be dead soon, anyway. She turned a bright smile on the clerk. "I've just remembered an appointment. I won't have time to try on the Vera Wang today, but I will be back in town in a few days. Do you think you will have that Dior in stock soon?"

"Certainly Ma'am. It is the peak wedding season. We expect a new shipment of gowns tomorrow. If I may ask, when is your wedding?"

Ella gave her a bright, dazzling smile.

"Oh, we haven't set the exact date, but soon, very soon."

Chris Larabee felt a familiar presence at his back and gave a small, private smile. He lazily tilted his head to meet smiling blue eyes. Vin was leaning against the nearby post. He held both a bag, and a large bakery box. "Hey, Cowboy."

Larabee leered happily up at his young lover. "You buy out Sue's again? Kid, you're lucky you still got teeth."

Vin gave him an indignant scowl, then sniffed hauntily. "Reckon you won't be wanting any of this peach pie, then. Reckon I can eat it all myself."

Larabee's eyes widened. Sue's pies were delicious. He pushed his chair back and hastily stood.

"Now, pard. You wouldn't hold out on me would you?"

Vin smirked and ambled on towards the bikes. Larabee caught up in two long strides, and draped a long arm over his shoulders. He glanced at his blond lover, noticing the easy smile and relaxed face. It seemed to him that Chris was happier these days, smiling and joking more, while he drank less. He hated to bring a scowl to that handsome face. "Ella's watching you."

"What? When--?" Larabee frowned, turned sharp eyes on him.

"Just now. From the window of that Bride store."

Vin slanted a glance over to judge his reaction. "Looks like she was trying on a dress."

Larabee groaned. Goddamned crazy woman. That's all he fucking needed. "Aw, shit. Let's get the hell out of here."

Vin grinned. "Ain't afraid of no skinny, little woman, are ya, Cowboy?"

"Hell, yes! If you knew this one, you would be too! She's the type that eats you alive, spits out the remains, and looks around for dessert afterwards. I hope to hell she's got her sights on someone else. Ez says she's already buried three husbands."

They almost made a clean getaway. Vin had just finished carefully bungee cording his precious pie to the back of his bike, when a familiar red convertible pulled up behind them, blocking the way. Ella gave Chris her familiar barracuda grin. "Chris. I'm glad I caught you."

He gave an inaudible sigh. Not if I can help it, lady. "Ella."

He remained astride his bike, obviously ready to leave and not interested in chitchat. Vin kept his head down, hair screening his face as he fussed with the placement of the damned pie box, but Chris was sure he saw a hidden smirk. He forced himself to nod politely at the woman. She beamed back.

"My foreman says you've already done wonders with my horse."

"Not me, Ella. Vin is doing all the hard work." He folded his arms and gave her a hard look.

"Looks like that stud has been beaten regular, Ella. You know anything about that?"

Her eyes widened. "Why no, Chris! I had no idea." She gave a little frown. "It must have been one of those Mexican grooms."

Dismissing the subject of the abused animal with a toss of her head, she continued, eager eyes glued to Larabee's face. "I wanted to invite you to my birthday party, Chris. You will come, won't you? It will be just like old times." Seeing the frown growing on his face, she hastily continued, "And do bring some of your boys, that should liven things up! Senator Royal will be there, Congressman Sikes, as well as Judge Travis and other prominent citizens. A few friends of my late husband. Lots of business connections..." she hinted, as she gave him a sweet smile. "Do come. I'll send you the invitations."

"I'll think about it Ella." He gave her a dismissing nod and ended any further chance for conversation by deliberately starting, and revving the engine of the big Harley. She frowned, but waved and drove on. Vin tossed his head back and flashed Chris a white smile, shaking his head. Larabee just flashed his familiar smirk right back. Side by side, they pulled out of the plaza and headed for home.

Inez' Saloon, Three Days Later

Chris leaned back in the booth, long, black clad legs propped on up on the opposite seat. Ezra sat across from him, examining the small stack of engraved invitations. The southerner thoughtfully tapped a card against the table top. "Ah do believe we should take advantage of this golden opportunity, Mr. Larabee. It would be a prime opportunity to...ahem..."

"Case the joint?" Larabee asked dryly. He took a sip from his shot glass.

"To investigate and initiate potential business opportunities." Standish finished smoothly.

Buck leaned forward, frowning. One big hand toyed with his moustache as he ran scenarios through his head. "Travis is gonna be there. Not to mention Sikes and Royal. We got a room full of politicians with a taste for vice. Travis has a 65,000.00 gambling marker floating. Royal is a collector...likes exotic women, among other things. Sikes drinks like a fish and snorts coke. I think we should take a shot at installing a few digital cameras before the party."

"Blackmail? Suggestions, Buck?"

Larabee asked curiously. It never failed to amaze him. Buck and Ez scheming together was a frightening thing. They could find ways to squeeze money out of a rock. He found the thought of fleecing Ella of her ill gotten gains curiously appealing.

Buck beamed at him. "We can thank Raphael and his infinite multitude of doting female relatives. His cousin Julia is Ella's maid. Ella treats her like a dog. Julia will be happy to help. She used to work for the Riveras. Julia says she can hide a few mini-cams easily. Thanks to her, we already got the floor plans and security set-up. Ella is gonna be in town most of the day tomorrow getting fitted for her party dress." Buck rubbed his big hands together and beamed at Larabee.

"We got enough invites. I say we show up at staggered intervals. Keep Ella busy, meeting and greeting. Nathan and Rain go in first, get the grand tour, check the cams. Then me and the kid escort in a couple of my best girls. Royal's eyeballs will pop out of his head when he sees Ebony, and Chantal can play Sikes. They're great actresses. The kid can hit Ella's computer and get a crack at her records..."

Ezra cut smoothly in, taking up where Buck left off.

"You, Mr. Larabee, arriving alone, will be the primary distraction as far as Mrs. Gaines is concerned. Then, Mr. Tanner and Ah will make an appearance. Ah will slip into the den at the first opportunity and examine the safe. Mr. Cordova de Martinez and Mr. Sanchez will be outside investigating the grounds and checking out the security."

Ezra spread his hands wide, then folded them. "Ah foresee only one potential problem."

Puzzled, Chris and Buck looked at him curiously. Standish gave a long suffering sigh at their obtuseness. "This is a Black Tie affair gentleman. Howevah are we going to persuade Mr. Tanner to don the appropriate attire?"

Three heads swiveled as one to where their sharpshooter was leaning over the pool table, playing eight ball with JD.

Vin wore faded jeans, tattered at the thighs and knees, dusty, scuffed cowboy boots, an ancient, torn, tissue thin white T shirt, topped by his old black leather motorcycle jacket. When he bent to take his shot, the holster at the small of his back was clearly visible. The haft of a skinning knife protruded from the top of his left boot. His wild, wind-tangled mane was carelessly tied back with a bootlace. Sensing he was being observed, he squinted suspiciously over at them.

Chris eyed the lean behind and long legs appreciatively. He grinned evilly across at Ezra.

"I'll leave that up to you, Ez. You being the fashion expert and all."

Buck's moustache was twitching with stifled amusement. He slapped Ezra jovially on the shoulder. "You're a brave soul, Ez. Sooner wrassle a gator, or kiss a rattler, myself. Should be interesting to see how much of his personal arsenal you can persuade him to leave at home."

Ezra groaned and closed his eyes. He shuddered at the thought of his upcoming trials and tribulations as Mr. Tanner's personal valet. He snorted. Only Mr. Larabee was persuasive enough to force him to act as dresser to a mulish, recalcitrant, unstylish Texan. He leaned forward and banged his head gently on the table top. Buck patted his back consolingly and discreetly slid a folded napkin between his head and the hard surface.

Gaspar's Les Hommes, Santa Maria Plaza, Four Corners

Gaspar St. Pierre (formerly known as Casper Meeks) winced at the foul stream of profanity issuing from the dressing room at the back of his exclusive men's shop. He arched a brow at the series of thumps and thuds that followed. In his opinion, Mr. Standish was either an extremely courageous individual, or a fool.

"Gawdammit, Ezra, I said no!"

"Mr. Tanner, Ah insist!"

"NO!"

"Yes!"

"NO!"

"Ain't gonna wear no sissy shoes, Ez!"

Gaspar gasped in horror and ducked as a pair of expensive, handcrafted Italian loafers sailed over his head to thud on the floor. Hurriedly, he bent to rescue them.

"Mr. Tanner, Ah implore you..."

"I said no Ezra, and I fuckin' meant it! Ain't gonna wear this cum'bun thing neither!"

The hapless cummerbund followed the shoes to drape gently on top of Gaspar's carefully marceled toupee. Good heavens! The man was indeed a Philistine!

Vin Tanner had reached the end of his considerable patience. He had reluctantly obeyed Chris's request that he meet Ez at the men's store to suit up for the party, only to be poked, prodded, measured, and forced to stand still and try on a dozen versions of the same damned monkey suit! The bow tie was choking him to death and the danged shoes had pinched his toes. He had had enough. He stormed out of the dressing room, yanking off the detested tie as he went, high cheekbones flushed with temper. Ezra followed, desperate, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Mr. Tanner, Ah nevuh thought of you as a coward!"

Vin stopped in his tracks, and Ezra froze, swallowing hard, as a pair of artic blue eyes focused on his face. "What did you call me?"

Vin's voice was dangerously calm. Ezra gulped, abruptly remembered whom he was dealing with, and tried again, appealing to the sharpshooter's honor. "Sir, you are a Tanner! You cannot leave Mr. Larabee unprotected in that Black Widow's clutches!" He lifted his hands imploringly, cunning green eyes on Vin's visibly wavering expression. He leaned forward and murmured softly for Vin's ears alone. "She has already murdered three men. You know as well as I, that obsessive personalities such as she seldom relinquish the object of their twisted desire."

He stepped closer, and dropped a gentle hand on Vin's shoulder. He spoke quietly, green eyes sober. "Ah do not think Mr. Larabee realizes just how dangerous this particular female of the species is, Mr. Tanner. His perception is colored by his past memories of the woman, as exasperating, but relatively harmless."

Vin nodded slowly, dropped his head and studied his socked feet. Ezra held his breath. Vin raised his head. "Ain't wearing them sissy shoes, Ez! Or this danged tie neither!"

Ezra groaned and slumped in in defeat.

"Sirs, if I might offer a few minor suggestions?"

Gaspar squeaked up bravely. He was determined to rid his store of this untamed Texan as soon as possible and protect his precious merchandise. Two heads turned hopefully in his direction.

An hour later, Ezra held his breath as Vin emerged from the dressing room. His gold tooth glinted as a broad, triumphant smile spread across his face. The defiant duckling had successfully transformed into an elegant swan! Vin shyly examined his reflection in the mirrors, oblivious to the fact that a male clerk hovering nearby was visibly drooling.

He wasn't wearing a trendy, modern tuxedo. Instead of a bow tie, his plain, white banded collar shirt was fastened by a single, jeweled button. Over the shirt he wore a severely cut Deacon's vest with a hidden button placket, made of antique, cobalt blue silk that accentuated the color of his eyes. His black coat was of an old fashioned cut as well. High collared and tapered at the waist, the long, pleated tail swirled out dramatically, like a nineteenth century opera coat.

Instead of the detested loafers, he wore sleek, black snakeskin western boots. His carefully tamed mane was held neatly back with a lapis bolo tie. His was a statement of old fashioned, timeless elegance. He looked as though he had stepped out of an antique western daguerreotype.

Vin checked the fit of the coat carefully, totally oblivious to the admiring looks from other patrons of the store, finally satisfied that it covered his guns. Ezra beamed at Gaspar as he pressed a substantial wad of cash discreetly into his palm. He clapped the man jovially on the back. "You are a miracle worker, sir!"

Gaspar bowed graciously. Ezra beamed at his elegantly clad colleague. Mr. Larabee was going to be very pleased. Perhaps, it would result in monetary compensation.

Larabee Ranch

Chris Larabee yanked viciously at his lopsided tie and swore furiously as he made yet another attempt to tie the damned thing correctly. He had not worn formal dress since Sarah was alive. An avid social climber, Sarah Connelly Larabee had had big plans for her husband. She had been sorely disappointed.

"Fuck!"

Chris swore again and ran a frustrated hand through his blond hair. He had forgotten how much he hated dressing up. Sourly, he wondered if fleecing Ella was worth the pain of formal wear. He sure as hell hoped that Vin was faring better. He smirked at his reflection. Larabee had decreed that as long as he had to suffer through a boring party, then so did Vin. That was one task he had been glad to assign to Ezra. He had been forced to sternly order the mulish Texan to allow Ez to outfit him.

Tanner had argued hotly that he was better suited to recon the outside security, but Larabee had pointed out it was best that that job go to Raphael and Josiah. Rafe, because he was already acquainted with the layout of the house and grounds, and Josiah, to keep him from fixating on some unlucky socialite. Besides, if Chris had to suffer formal dress, then so did Vin. Fair was fair. Vin had finally complied, storming out of the house angrily, but not before a resentful, searing blue glare had promised Chris there would be hell to pay later. No one ordered Tanner around without dire consequences.

There was a deep wolf whistle from behind him and he turned to meet Buck's admiring stare.

"Looking good, Old Dog!"

"Not so bad yourself, Buck."

Larabee replied absently, glancing at Buck's darkly handsome reflection. He swore as he managed yet another lopsided bow.

Buck chuckled and stepped forward. "Let me give ya a hand with that old pard. Lift your chin."

Chris stood still obediently, and let his friend expertly knot the black tie. Larabee was exquisite in formal wear, tall and sleekly elegant with his wheat blond hair gleaming. The subtle scent of his Lagerfield cologne made Buck's mouth water.

Buck finished, then ran a gentle knuckle down the side of Larabee's smoothly shaven face. Looking hungrily into Chris's eyes he murmured. "Been a long time since I seen you clean shaved. I think it was at your wedding. You do that to surprise Vin?"

Annoyed, Chris caught Buck's hand and pushed it from his face. He met his oldest friend's eyes squarely. "Yeah, Buck, I did. That's something you need to get used to." More gently, he added, "We'll always be friends, Buck, but we got bad history as well as good."

Wilmington huffed a resigned breath, wincing at the memory of his and Sarah's betrayal of Chris's trust, and stepped reluctantly back. Chris was never going to forgive him for that affair. He folded his arms and leaned against the door jamb, watching as Chris ran a brush quickly over his mussed hair, watching Buck's reflection warily in the mirror as he did. He decided to change the subject. "You gonna ride in the limo with the girls and me?"

"Nope. Gonna ride my bike. Hope to hell this is worth the trouble," Chris grumbled as he slid on his jacket, then reached for his leather duster.

Buck's eyes crinkled in amusement. "Reckon it will be worth it just to see if Ez can fit a Texas Hellcat into a tux!"

"I don't know, Buck. That boy was plenty mad when he left here."

Buck chuckled and slapped Larabee jovially on the back.

"What you want to bet that Junior wears his boots in?"

Chris gave a derisive snort. "That's not a bet Buck. That's a given."

They headed amiably down the hall, Buck's long arm draped affectionately over Chris's shoulders. He needled Larabee as they went. "You buy Ella a nice birthday present?"

"Hell, no!"

"Guess she just figures you're her present, anyway."

"Aw, shit. It's bad enough that I have to make nice with her," Chris grumbled.

The damned woman was in for a shock. He wasn't about to fuck her, just to give Ez and Buck a chance to make money. Besides, Vin would cheerfully shoot him if he did. Feeling much put upon, he sourly followed his oldest friend out the door. Maybe he would just drag Vin home early. He had a feeling the claustrophobic young Texan would be ready to bolt after only an hour or so of polite company anyway.

Rivera Ranchero, Red Rock Butte

Ella Gaines had seldom been as confused as she was tonight. It should have been a triumph. Her carefully planned social gathering was a resounding success. The party glittered with prominent people, the catering had been impeccable, the service flawless. They were all having a lovely time, talking, laughing, and dancing. Several influential politicians were present and having a splendid time. Ella's party promised to be an event of the season, guaranteeing her high status among the wealthiest citizens of New Mexico.

She had been delighted when Mary Travis had arrived on the arm of a wealthy rancher, Gerard Whitman. She had been downright ecstatic when Chris arrived alone, and barely acknowledged the Travis woman's presence, much less to seek her out. Her triumphant attempt to claim her rightful place on his arm, however, had been stymied. To her intense frustration, Christopher Adam Larabee continued to rebuff her every attempt at seduction.

He had been polite, chatting with her for a while before abandoning her to circulate. He had yet to ask her to dance. Baffled frustration held under tight rein, Ella watched him closely, convinced now that she had been mistaken in thinking the Travis woman the object of his affections. He was obviously waiting for someone.

Every time Ella's houseman announced a new arrival, Larabee's searching green gaze swept over to the door, and even as he moved around the room, his eyes restlessly returned to the entrance hall. She was convinced now that he was waiting for the mysterious woman he was so foolishly enamored with. Irritated, she sipped her champagne and watched the handsome blond as he chatted with Nathan and Dr. Rain Jackson.

Chris Larabee had never been so fucking bored in his life. With the exception of his people, the house was full of pompous politicians and airhead socialites. His efforts to avoid Ella had finally paid off, and she was leaving him alone for the moment. Hell, he had had to practically pry her off his arm earlier before he could go and take a piss. It was with relief that he met with Nathan and Rain for an update.

Rain's beautiful brown eyes crinkled at the corners with amusement as she took in Larabee's increasingly frazzled appearance. She and Nathan had snickered together earlier over his almost comical attempts to avoid Ella's clutches. The lean alpha of the Dark Angels had been surprisingly patient with the besotted woman, but Rain sensed that that was about to end. She tugged gently at his sleeve and winked up at him. "Dance with me. I can't pry Nathan out of the buffet table." She ordered, shooting her husband a fond look of exasperation.

He would have protested, but his mouth was full. He waved her gallantly away, instead. Laughing, Chris swept her off, jeering good naturedly at Jackson as he did. He smiled fondly down at her. She was especially pretty tonight. Her dark ringlets were swept elegantly up and pinned with tiny, jeweled butterflies, and her clinging, gold tissue silk gown displayed her slender figure.

They danced easily together, heads close as they exchanged information. Buck lounged elegantly against the French doors flirting with Eveline Travis. Ebony was corralled in a corner by a smitten Guy Royal. Standing six feet in her stockinged feet, she resembled a modern Nefertiti. Her tight, translucent white linen dress displayed rich dark skin, and her elegant African profile was alert and amused as she allowed Royal to maneuver her exactly where she wished to be. It wouldn't be long before she would allow him to escort her to a secluded spot watched over by one of Buck's cameras.

The petite, vivacious Chantal was a fast worker, and had already bagged Sikes on camera partaking of cocaine party favors. Mission accomplished, she was working on getting him drunk as fast as possible, so she could ditch him and have some fun. JD had vanished into Ella's study for an intimate moment with her computer. From his position, Buck was able to ensure that no one could wander down the hall and take the kid by surprise.

"So far, so good. Sikes is already in the bag, Royal is about take the bait," Rain murmured. She nodded towards the door as JD appeared, looking flushed and very pleased with himself. "And JD is finished already."

"So, basically all we need is for Ez to take his walkabout?" Chris was pleased. He liked it when well crafted plans worked exactly according to schedule. It also meant he would be able to escape this interminable party earlier than planned. He frowned. "Ezra is late, as usual."

Rain chuckled softly."You can't blame him this time Chris. Not after that herculean task you assigned him!"

Chris grinned ruefully. He knew what a handful his Texas Wildcat could be. "I guess I'll have to give Ez a bonus for that alone."

Laughing together, they returned to the buffet table. Nathan had munched his way through the crab puffs and had started on a round of tiny meatballs supplemented with guacamole chips. Rain shook her head and pinched him surreptitiously.

"Ouch!"

"Pig!"

"What? I'm hungry!" he protested, popping one last meatball into his mouth as she dragged him onto the dance floor. Chris neatly relieved him of his full plate of goodies as he passed, ignoring his muffled protest, and began to help himself. He grabbed a glass of champagne off a tray, and prepared to settle in for some quality snacking. He was doomed for disappointment. Ella snagged him before he could find a quiet corner, and slid her arm possessively through his. "There you are! You haven't asked me to dance yet, and it IS my birthday." She purred, beaming up at him.

He couldn't help but think that she must have based the design of her dress on that of an old fashioned saloon girl. Black and heavily beaded, the low cut decolletage was trimmed with black feathers, and the tight skirt split nearly to her hip. She wore a heavy, musky perfume that was giving him a headache, and enough flashy, diamond jewelry to blind a man.

Resigned to his fate, he set his purloined plate and drink down, and escorted her onto the dance floor. Over her head, he rolled his eyes at Buck's mischievous wink and waggling brows. He groaned silently when she signaled for a slow, romantic dance and pressed her barely covered breasts blatantly against his chest as she snuggled close. Sighing, he moved mechanically into the steps of the dance.

Ezra beamed encouragingly at his protegee as they climbed out of his BMW. Vin was nervously fiddling with the sapphire cufflinks Ezra had loaned him for the evening. Their fearless sharpshooter was in fact scared shitless. Not only was he wearing fancy dress for the first time in his young life, but now he was expected to actually socialize with rich folks at a fancy party where the only souls he knew were Chris and the boys. He was terrified of making a total ass out of himself, and of embarrassing Larabee.

Standish kept a firm hand at the small of Vin's back as he propelled the younger man up the front walk towards the entrance. Although he was speaking soothingly to the terrified young Texan, it was probable that Vin hadn't heard a word he said. Tanner looked as though he were being taken before a firing squad instead of to a party.

It amazed him that one of the deadliest men he knew was so terribly shy when it came to meeting a few harmless strangers. Perhaps it had something to do with Vin's claustrophobia, and his childhood. Wide blue eyes turned to his, and Vin halted on the top step, grabbing Ezra by the sleeve. "Reckon I should wait outside, Ez?"

Soft heart touched by the naked plea in Vin's soft drawl, Ezra slipped an encouraging arm over Vin's stiff shoulders. "Courage, Mr. Tanner! Ah imagine Mr. Larabee is ripe for rescue from our amorous widow about now! Ah will need you to watch mah back when Ah investigate the safe, as Ah expect Mr. Wilmington has already been distracted by the charms of a nubile young lady. Have Ah told you how splendid you look tonight? We should have a portrait taken..." Chattering inanely to distract Vin, he gently propelled him on.

Chris sighed with relief when the dance finally ended. He escorted Ella off the floor and was profoundly grateful when Judge Travis claimed her for the next dance. She watched him wistfully as she was led away, but he was oblivious. Returning to reclaim his stolen hors d'oeuvres, he found Nathan cheerfully devouring them. Damn. Deciding on whisky instead, he headed for the bar. Hell, he deserved a shot. Or two.

Ella nodded politely at Judge Travis's compliments on the party, hungry gaze riveted on Larabee over the man's shoulder as they danced. She was riding an emotional rollercoaster. She couldn't fathom why Chris stubbornly refused to claim what was rightfully his. They were meant to be together. Why was he resisting? She frowned in puzzlement.

After the dance, the Judge introduced her to his wife and daughter-in-law. Ella spoke genially to Evie Travis, and watched as the Judge gallantly led his wife onto the dance floor. She turned reluctantly to Mary, bristling at the blonde's half hidden, knowing smirk as she sipped at her champagne. It was a case of instant mutual dislike. Mary's simple, white Grecian style dress was a cool contrast to Ella's elaborate beaded gown. She wore her platinum blonde hair up in a sleek chignon, her jewelry simple diamond studs in her ears and a diamond solitaire necklace. The women were a study in contrasts. Elegant old money versus nouveau rich.

"Mrs. Travis."

"Mrs. Gaines."

"Whatever do you find so amusing, Mrs. Travis?"

Mary arched a brow and pointedly looked over to where Chris Larabee lounged at the bar. She took another sip from her glass, and gave Ella another secret smile. "I believe you're about to find out, Mrs. Gaines." Mary gave her a dazzling smile and glided off towards a waiting Gerard Whitman. She almost felt sorry for the Gaines woman.

Puzzled, Ella stared after her for a moment, then strode towards Chris, a wide, determined smile on her face. She was intercepted by an inebriated Bob Sikes, who grabbed her arm and started babbling boozily into her face. Repulsed, she looked deliberately at Larabee, in an imperious demand for rescue.

To her immense shock, he ignored her. He didn't even seem to see her predicament. He was looking straight past her, a wide, sexy welcoming smile on his handsome face. The first such smile she had ever seen him wear, and it was NOT directed at her. It was the unmistakable look of a man catching sight of his lover. Stricken, she pivoted slowly to see whom Larabee was staring at with such open hunger, only to be brushed smoothly aside as he moved swiftly past her in a beeline towards the door.

Chris had just raised his whisky glass for a sip, when he caught sight of Ez and Vin's entrance. He blinked, stared, and blinked again, feeling a wide, foolish grin cross his face. Goddamn. Where was his scruffy, tangle haired Texan? This sexy, elegant creature was something entirely new. He scowled when he noticed the hungry, predatory looks aimed at HIS Texan from a gaggle of nearby socialites, and moved swiftly to intercept. Mine.

"Ez." He nodded absently in Standish's direction, his entire focus on the man standing shyly beside him. Vin raised relieved blue eyes to Larabee's face, his crooked smile blossoming.

"Hey, Cowboy." He greeted Chris softly, his eyes widening in appreciation at the sight of Larabee's newly clean cut face. He nodded at the glass Chris still held, unnerved a little by Larabee's stare. "That for me?"

Chris handed it to him absently. He would have handed him the moon, if he had it. His eyes were hungrily mapping that beautiful, square jawed face, roaming over the lithe body, admiring Vin's unique attire. He raised a fond hand and tweaked a determined strand of unruly, sun bleached silk that was already escaping its tie. He inhaled the familiar, clean scent of cedar, and his wide mouth quirked into a tender smile. His untamed Texan was still in there. Vin blushed hotly under his admiring scrutiny. Chris wanted nothing more in that moment then to eat him alive.

Ezra had given up on attempting to speak to Mr. Larabee, huffed in exasperation, and moved on into the foyer. He noticed Ella's shell shocked gaze after Larabee, and moved quickly to greet and hopefully distract the woman as he gallantly rescued her from the grasp of the drunken congressman. Trust Mr. Larabee to be about as discreet as a heat seeking missile!

Over Ella's shoulder, he caught Buck's minute hand signals. A hidden thumbs up, a circle, and an index finger flicked in his direction was all it took to inform Ezra that the only major remaining task of the evening was his inspection of the safe.

He nodded his understanding and indicated the stunned woman he was attempting to distract with an arched brow. Buck nodded and moved easily to take over. He beamed jovially down at the petite brunette and kissed her hand, drawing her smoothly out on the dance floor. His broad shoulders effectively blocked Larabee from her view as he slid a big arm around her waist and drew her close.

"Why, Ella, you haven't danced with me all night, darlin'. Old Buck is starting to feel neglected..." he boomed down into her dazed face as he skillfully maneuvered her away, leaving Standish with a clear path to the study.

Nathan had moved discreetly to the doorway to serve as the first lookout and JD strolled down the hall to station himself near the study door, plate of snacks firmly in his grasp, apparently an innocent teenager escaping adult scrutiny, intent on feeding his face. Standish took one leisurely survey of the room, to insure he was unobserved, smoothed his lapels, then meandered down the hall towards the study.

Rain stepped casually back through the French doors that led into the courtyard. She nodded at Nathan, indicating that Raphael and Josiah had finished reconning the perimeter. The night's work was nearly finished. Soon they could relax and really enjoy the party. Her full lips quirked at the sight of Chris hovering possessively by Vin, warning off any would be poachers with a cold glare. Odds where, Larabee would be hustling Vin out the door before the hour was gone, Ella be damned.

Ella was numb with shock and a growing rage. This could not be happening. NO! How dare he! How dare he set her aside for a ... man. Her jealous, dark eyes focused coldly on Vin. It was all HIS fault, he had stolen her beloved Chris. Deluded and bewitched him. It was up to her to rescue Chris, and restore him to his rightful place at her side.

She allowed her escort to propel her around the dance floor, oblivious to his good-natured blather. Smiling slowly she relaxed and moved easily with the music as she felt a familiar, peaceful calm descend. Everything would be all right now. She knew what to do. She knew who she had to kill. Harper and his crew were due in tomorrow. Everything would be taken care of.

Raphael Cordova de Martinez ghosted silently along the inner garden wall. From this angle, he had a clear view of most of the courtyard and the party. Dressed entirely in matte black, from the top of his sleek dark head to the low heels of his boots, he was nearly invisible. Josiah had already checked in, then headed for home. Raphael lingered after his whispered consultation with Rain Jackson. He was stalking larger prey tonight. As patiently as a leopard, he crouched in the shadow of an urn and waited.

Buck and Ezra stood on the terrace to catch a breath of fresh air. They were well pleased. The evening's business was done, and everyone could relax a bit. A bored JD had headed for home a quarter hour earlier. Ebony and Chantal were leisurely stalking unwary, wealthy cattlemen. Buck had given them leave to enjoy themselves for the rest of the evening. Nathan and Rain were slow dancing happily together.

Buck and Ezra were currently placing bets on how soon Chris would drag Vin off into a corner, and molest him. The sharpshooter had inadvertently led their leader a merry chase tonight. Vin had proved an irresistable lure for the ladies. They all seemed to want a dance with the handsome, shy young man.

Larabee was currently standing at the bar glaring daggers at the back of a statuesque blonde socialite's head. She had had the nerve to cut in on his conversation with Vin, and then imperiously dragged the young man off for a dance. Now she was not so discreetly slipping her card into his vest pocket.

"Ah am quite proud. Mr. Tanner has mingled quite well." Ezra beamed fondly at his unlikely Cinderella.

Buck snorted and took a gulp of scotch. "Hell, Ezra, the boy ain't had a chance to get nervous. The ladies haven't given him a moment to catch his breath since he got here, line started forming the minute he came in the damned door. Chris is about to blow a gasket."

"Indeed, Mr. Wilmington. Ah believe you owe me a small sum of money." Standish watched with immense satisfaction as Mr. Larabee firmly cut in on the startled blonde gave her a sharkish grin and with a firm arm around Vin's shoulders, escorted him off the dance floor, and out the door into the side garden.

"Ah, hell. I was sure Chris had more willpower than that! Worse than newlyweds!" Disgruntled, Buck dug out his wallet and handed Standish half the contents.

Ezra gave him a gold-toothed grin and happily slipped the fat wad of cash into his inner pocket. He picked an imaginary bit of lint off an immaculate cuff, and prepared to take his leave. "Ah do believe ah shall bid our charming hostess adieu. Mothah is due to phone me at midnight for a progress report. Ah also want to examine the financial information that young Mr. Dunne so efficiently procured tonight."

"Later, Ez." Buck slapped him on the back and thoughtfully watched him go. He took another sip from his glass and leaned back against the terrace rail. It still gave him a pang to watch Chris and Vin together. He had hoped that somehow the two would occasionally be open for three, but it looked like it wasn't going to be. Larabee and Tanner were loners that had somehow mated for life. Larabee was fiercely possessive. Tanner almost pathologically shy. They were damaged halves of a whole, complete unto themselves.

He supposed he should be glad he was still counted Chris's closest confidant. At least Vin hadn't shot him yet, and Chris had only threatened to kill him once. He folded his arms broodingly and huffed a breath, exasperated at himself. Chris would always be a part of his life, closer than any brother. Truth was, he envied Chris and Vin their closeness, and felt more than a bit left out and lonely. He turned rueful eyes on the party, not really in the mood to seek out feminine company.

A low whistle brought his head up and around, and he caught a glimpse of a dark figure standing at the end of the long terrace, half hidden in shadow. Raphael. He lifted a hand and beckoned, melting back in the shadows. Intrigued, Buck set his glass down on the rail and strolled casually down the terrace, checking to insure if he was unobserved. The lithe figure remained just ahead, and he quickly followed.

Chris tasted of expensive bourbon tonight, Vin noted vaguely, as the tall blond pressed him bodily up against the interior wall of the gazebo. His hungry mouth seemingly intent on eating him alive, while big, hard hands worked at uncovering skin. The heady scent of the heirloom roses and honeysuckle vines covering the garden structure mingled with Chris's cologne and coupled with the fresh night air to make Vin nearly dizzy with desire.

Larabee nipped his way across the smooth, square jaw to a succulent earlobe, which he suckled wetly. Vin moaned and bucked helplessly in response, humping against the hard muscled thigh wedging his legs apart. He managed to grab the roaming hands that were about to rip his shirt and vest open, and shove them away.

"Dammit, Lar'bee!"

"Mmm,mmh?"

"Chris!"

Larabee reluctantly lifted his hungry mouth from the love bite he was working on beneath Vin's jaw. He surveyed his handiwork critically. Nope. Needed a bit more suction. He latched on again, making Vin yelp and squirm delightfully. Strong hands caught his head and pried him off. Irritated, he scowled down into a flushed, rosy face.

"What? I'm working here!"

"Stop messin' with my outfit, Cowboy. Went to a heap of trouble with the damned thing, an' I don't want it ripped. 'Sides, Ez said I look splendid."

Vin shoved him back a pace, and began ostentatiously to smooth his mussed clothing. Bright blue eyes slanted Chris a teasing, sideways look, checking his reaction. Yep, there was that jealous Larabee glare, right on cue. Tanner deliberately fueled the fire. He licked his wet, swollen lips slowly and deliberately and gave Larabee an arch look as he pretended to adjust his cufflinks. "That was downright rude, cuttin' in on Miss Courtney like that. Her bein' so nice to me and all."

Chris growled, and folded his arms over his broad chest. He scowled down at his ornery, sexy tease of a partner. "Splendid, huh? Miss Courtney? Nice? Is that why she slipped you her card?"

He reached out a big hand, dipped into Tanner's pocket, and plucked out not one but six different scented business cards. Without even glancing at them, he tossed them back over his shoulder. He gave the younger man an evil smirk and advanced deliberately in his space, tall frame crowding him back farther under the greenery covered roof of the gazebo.

"You happen to mention to Miss Courtney that you're spoken for, Tanner?" He backed Vin up against the far wall and placed big hands on either side of his head, effectively trapping him. Leaning in so close that Vin could feel the warmth of his breath inches from his mouth, he murmured softly, "You happen to mention that you belong to me?"

Vin swallowed hard as he stared into his lover's hot eyes. That moss green gaze pinned him as securely as a snake would a mouse. He could feel the strength and heat of Chris's body, smell the scent of his musk mingling deliciously with his cologne. It made him shiver, and it made him so hard he hurt. From now on, whenever he caught the scent of roses and honeysuckle he would think of this night.

"You're looking really fine tonight, Cowboy." Chris lightly, slowly brushed Vin's cheek with his newly smooth one. He deliberately courted Vin with soft words and touches. "Makes me want to eat you alive," he whispered into the rosy shell of a tender ear as he gently gripped the lobe between his teeth. "So pretty. So sexy, so..."

"Ain't purty...aah!"

Larabee nuzzled lightly along his lover's jawline, lips touching as lightly as butterfly wings. He rubbed his own smooth cheek against Vin's, and smiled secretly when he felt the younger man shiver, as he nuzzled down his neck. He stopped, his lips curved against the pounding pulse in Vin's throat, just breathing his clean scent, feeling the heat of his skin, his heartbeat. He spoke quietly, one deliberate word before he dug cruel, sharp teeth into the tender skin. "Mine."

Larabee cupped the back of Vin's head with one big hand and wrapped his arm around the trim waist as he hauled his lover close, intent on making his claim. He bit the pulse in Vin's throat and sucked hard, bruising the delicate skin. There would be toothmarks and dark bruising, visibly marking Vin as his. Tanner moaned brokenly, arched against him, hands clawing his broad shoulders helplessly. Chris lazily lifted his head, licking his lips lightly, tasting the sweet copper tang of blood.

"I'm gonna suck you dry, Cowboy."

Big hands closed hard around Vin's waist as he lifted and set the dazed younger man up on the wrought iron table in the gazebo. His pants were efficiently opened and yanked down around his ankles, along with his silk boxers, freeing his rosy, weeping erection to jut stiffly up into the cool night air. Larabee raised burning eyes on his lover's face, as he bent to lazily lap once at his cock head. He blew a hot breath along the pulsing organ, as hard, calloused hands spread Vin's thighs wide. He lifted his head and gave Vin a wicked, white smile. "Then after I drain you dry, I'm gonna bend you over this table and fuck you into next week."

He bent his blond head and went to work, deep-throating Tanner in one swoop. Vin arched and reeled back in a rictus of pleasure, one hand tangled in Larabee's hair, the other jammed into his own mouth to muffle his scream. He bucked helplessly into Chris's hot mouth, noting hazily as he did that the moon was full and shining through the leaf and blossom tangled roof.

It sure as hell had brought out the beast tonight!