The Escort Page 9

  And her own scandalous reaction to it, the tingling between her legs. Men weren't usually hard, were they? They were soft and limp, like the statues in the piazza. She balled her fist, resisting, she shouldn't do it, but she couldn't help herself. She wouldn't wake him, but she had to satisfy her curiosity and feel him. She reached carefully between his curled legs. Through the soft fabric of his pajamas she felt him and was vindicated. He was small and limp, but she tingled with pleasure. She ran her fingers along his outline, and suddenly it lost its limpness and grew hard and long beneath her touch. A hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. His eyes flew open and bore down on her.

  "Enough is enough," he whispered.

  "You had your feel of me earlier. It's only fair."

  "Bitch," he said, but she had the distinct impression it was a compliment.

  "Are going to let me go, or will you make a scene?"

  "You'll go back to sleep and leave me alone?"

  "What a turn of events," she said. He was ruffled. She heard it in his voice. She put on a contrite look. "Yes."

  He released her hand. She withdrew it quickly, cuddling it against her chest. He rolled over to face the wall, pausing to turn back over to address her one final time. "Be thankful Sal and Maria are here." Even though naive, she knew what he meant.

  As she stared at his back, the scene at Gambino's came to mind. She recalled clearly Gambino's statement that an older woman would have suited him better. She pictured herself in Luisa's place, flirting madly with any man that happened by, trying desperately to fill some need that an old husband would never satisfy.

  Even as her face flamed at the thought, she had to admit that she could imagine Tonio touching her, and she liked the image. He was unlike any man she'd known. He was smart, and sharp-witted, and mysterious. He had a mine that was going to make him rich.

  But she had made a vow of honor to Signor Allessandro, by all accounts a decent and hardworking man who had sacrificed a great deal to bring her to America. She could not disgrace her family by running off with another man. Not that Tonio would run off with her. He was set against marriage. But if he wanted to, she was not certain that she could resist the temptation.

  Her thoughts ran too close to the scandalous. She made the sign of the cross to ward them off. God help her! After Tonio, could she ever be happy with Signor Allessandro?

  Chapter 7

  A clock chimed the half hour. Eleven thirty p.m. After a nearly fourteen-hour delay, amid rumors of avalanches on the western tracks, they were back on the train again. Chicago was two hours behind them. Angelina felt surprisingly alert as she sat cross-legged on her sleeping berth, and examined the splendor of her surroundings. She switched on the light, a sculpted glass lamp seated in an ornate brass wall sconce, illuminating the tapestry that shielded her from the hallway just outside her berth. Thin strands of gold and green thread glowed richly in the maroon background of the curtain. Overhead the dark cherry wood ceiling was polished to the brilliance of a looking glass.

  Angelina kicked off her shoes and tucked them into her duffel. Tonio's friend, a Northern Pacific Railroad clerk, had upgraded their tickets for a nominal bribe. She marveled at Tonio, he had the most amazing way of living in a style considerably above the means of the common miner he claimed to be. She wondered what he had planned for the rest of the money he'd won.

  She leaned back, lost in thought. She hadn't counted on separate sleeping berths. She'd grown used to sleeping next to Tonio. She'd thought she would have a few more innocent nights to last her a lifetime. She found herself wishing that Mr. Allessandro looked something like Tonio, that he would elicit some passion in her. She didn't like to think of her husband. It brought only guilt and sadness. She would have a lifetime learning to forget Tonio and love another man.

  She heard footsteps approach and watched through the gap in her curtain as Tonio jumped into his berth across the aisle. She watched until his lamp went out. Then there was nothing to do but attend to her nighttime ritual.

  She pulled her blouse off over her head and loosened the strings of her camisole, revealing the tops of her full breasts, remembering Tonio's kiss upon them. She pushed them up and together, wishing Tonio's hands caressed them. Then she sighed and unpinned her hair, throwing her head back to shake her hair loose. She grabbed the bottom of her camisole. Just before she pulled it over her breasts, she turned out the light.

  "Goodnight, Tonio. Sleep well," she whispered to herself, hoping he didn't sleep at all without her next to him.

  Tonio swung up into his berth with the ease of someone used to riding the rails. For nearly a year while he worked his way West on the railroad crew, a rail bunk had been his only private space, if it could be called that. He stooped as he sat in the cramped space. A man of his height couldn't sit fully upright. Some things hadn't changed. He slid the privacy curtain closed and undressed, casually tossing his discarded clothes at the foot of the bed. With one fluid movement he rolled up and under the covers, switching the light off in the process.

  He lay there on his back for a moment with his eyes closed, arms folded beneath his head, enjoying the comfort of a real mattress, listening to soft feminine rustlings across the aisle. He could well imagine what was being exposed hardly an arm's length away. Soft curves, gently sloping shoulders, delicately formed feminine collarbones, full breasts…

  He opened his eyes and stared into the highly polished domed ceiling above his head.

  "Shit!"

  Just a few feet above his head Angelina was clearly reflected in the ceiling. He stared mesmerized and watched as she pulled her blouse off, loosened her camisole and brushed her hair with long fluid strokes. With each stroke her full, winsome breasts threatened to escape and bounce free of the thin fabric that bound them. The reflection was so clear that he could see the dark outline of erect nipples as she brushed. A heavy gold cross, suspended around her neck on a gold chain, glinted in the lamplight as she moved. She was about to pull the camisole off when she switched off the light and the reflection vanished.

  "Damn!"

  He reached up and stroked the ceiling where the image had been, as if hopeful that he could restore it, then turned on his side toward the window. He was hard and aroused and frustrated—the woman was driving him insane. He pulled the window shade open and stared mindlessly at the darkness rushing by, unable to sleep.

  Tonio awoke early, his mind swimming with images of the night. Damned dreams. He thought he'd seen the last of those when he'd first known the pleasures of a real woman years ago. Now that southern peasant girl had managed to insert herself into the private world of his sleeping conscious. He eased his body, stiff from the cramped quarters, up onto an elbow and peered out of the tiny window in his compartment. It wasn't easy for a thirty-year-old man to sleep with a hard-on all night.

  He glanced up at the ceiling overhead. The gentle morning light coming in through the window obscured any reflection that might have been there. Annoyingly disappointed, he pulled on his clothes and jumped down out of his berth.

  As he stood in the aisle, he looked up to check the view overhead. His own slightly distorted reflection peered back at him. The curtains on either side of the aisle blocked the sloping sides of the ceiling, preserving the privacy of the inhabitants of the berths from intrusion by someone standing in the aisle.

  He sighed in relief, for all his annoyance he didn't want other men to get an eyeful of the unsuspecting Angelina. Why didn't the train staff do something about these awkward invasions of privacy? Surely someone had noticed the glorious reflective qualities of the ceiling before, and complained? He certainly didn't need visions of Angelina to fuel the disturbing attraction he felt growing for her.

  He shook his head as he remembered his own railroad days. For all the seeming propriety of the stewards and conductors, they probably got a big kick out of knowing that the staunch and pure ladies who could afford the berths were treating total strangers to a peep show. The ladies, if they discove
red that the berths were not as private as they thought, would surely be too embarrassed to report it, opting to be more careful rather than face the humiliation. He headed for the men's room making a mental note to turn out the lights in his berth before disrobing.

  He considered warning Angelina to do the same, just to avoid further frustration, but decided quickly against it. He'd lived like a monk these last few years, sequestered in the mines. Maybe he needed the stimulation.

  It was nearly nine o'clock when Angelina awoke. She peeked through the tiny crack in her curtain to the berth across the aisle. The curtain was open. It was deserted. Tonio was up and roaming about the train. She dressed in her new clothes, her thoughts on him.

  He was imperturbable, holding himself reined in with the tightest of grips. What would happen if someone broke through the dangerous edge of his emotions? That would be something. Tonio, in love. It would serve him right to be humbled, his heart at the mercy of a woman. She sighed, unreasonably morose at the thought that she would not be that woman.

  Her dressing finished, she opened the curtains, swung her legs over the edge and peered out to check the hallway. There was no one in sight. She flipped over onto her stomach and slid off, her skirt hiking up to nearly her waist before her feet finally touched the floor. She gave her skirt a quick tug to straighten it and then headed to the ladies' room.

  Tonio watched amused, concealed from her view at the far end of the hallway. He stepped into view and greeted her without commenting on how pretty she looked in her new clothes. She blushed and wondered how much he'd seen as she'd slid off the berth.

  The dining car was fancier than the Pennsy's, and nearly empty, except for a few late morning coffee drinkers, one of whom started in recognition and made his way towards them as Tonio seated Angelina in a chair near the window.

  "Tonio! Imagine seeing you here."

  Angelina turned to look at the speaker, an immaculately dressed middle aged man with a handlebar mustache. Tonio was already on his feet shaking his hand.

  "Jim, what brings you here?"

  "Been back East, business for the Bunker."

  "Oh?"

  "Checking out smelters."

  "Bunker must be doing well. Don't tell me production is so high you can't keep up."

  "You know the situation as well as I do, Tonio. You haven't been away that long, have you? Baker and his men are out stirring up trouble, trying to get the Bunker and some of the other large mines to go union."

  Angelina didn't understand all of the rapid fire English that was being bantered back and forth, but when she heard the name Baker, she focused on Tonio and watched him closely. Gambino had mentioned Baker as a dangerous man. She could tell from Jim's tone that he didn't like Baker either. Tonio's expression was unreadable.

  "We're likely to see a repeat of '92," Jim continued. "We won't be caught unprepared this time. The Bunker has to keep the operations going or the union boys win. We'll wage our own war if we have to, to keep that from happening. You might mention that to your friend Baker next time you see him. It's a losing proposition for him, Tonio. We'll hire scabs from Mexico if we have to. The Bunker isn't afraid and the owners won't back down."

  Tonio looked mildly amused. "I'm sure Baker and the rest of the boys at the Western Federation will be glad to hear that, Jim."

  "You know I don't like Mr. Baker. He and his ideology convinced my most respected foreman and the best damn explosives man we've ever had to quit."

  "It wasn't Baker; it was the opportunity to own my own hole. The day I walked into Cardoner's Store and Orchard offered up his shares was the most opportune day of my life."

  "You, the Days, Prestons, Halls, and Dad—you're all crazy. The Bunker's got all the ore that's in that valley."

  Tonio smiled in response. Jim tapped on the table and seemed to notice Angelina for the first time. Although he started, he didn't address her.

  "Join me for dinner, Tonio. Seven. Bring your companion if you like." He slapped Tonio on the back and walked off.

  "Who was that man? Why didn't you introduce me?" Angelina asked in Italian as Tonio seated himself again and flagged a waiter.

  "It would have embarrassed him."

  "Why?"

  A waiter appeared to take their order before Tonio could answer. When he left Tonio deferred to another topic. "English," he said. "We must practice your English. You must be fluent before Idaho or they'll eat you alive." He smiled happily. "We can't have that, can we?"

  Their seats in the traveling car were thick and plush and individually sculpted, arranged in cozy foursomes facing each other. Tonio sat beside her; the two seats across from them were empty. Tonio seemed satisfied with the accommodations now that they traveled first class. He sat, head down, absorbed in the mysterious letters that occupied him during the tedious hours of traveling. Angelina watched a woman seated forward and across the aisle facing them, fascinated.

  A small card table sat in the woman's foursome. She played cards freely with any gentleman that asked. In the last hour, a single man held the place of honor, an older, heavyset man. Angelina couldn't see much more than the back of his well-tailored coat and peppered hair. She wondered if he was handsome. The woman was beautiful and fashionably turned out.

  She wore a low cut gold gown with a scalloped neckline. A full, scalloped ruffle of the same hid her feet. The dress was belted with a not quite maroon, almost brown, bow. She wore a choker of matching colors with a tiny drop pearl. The whole outfit was modestly covered with a jacket of matching maroon brown with gold piping. It had a wide lapel that branched at the shoulders reminiscent of epaulettes. The wide sleeves had two gold chevrons at the wrists, further adding to the military image, but softened by the addition of gauzy ruffles along the neck and wrists. The woman's hair was swept up and topped with a gold hat embellished with three large maroon plumes. She was stunning.

  "Tonio, look at that woman across from us."

  The woman seemed to sense Tonio's eyes on her. She lifted her gaze from her cards and smiled at him, coyly lifting her chin to indicate that he join her. Tonio didn't respond. He looked back to Angelina. "The woman in gold?"

  "Yes."

  "What is it you want me to notice about her?"

  "She's beautiful and confident. Her clothes are gorgeous and she plays cards freely with the men. I'd love to be like her, traveling, doing what I want, being admired."

  "No, you wouldn't, Angelina." He seemed amused, but his tone held a distinct warning. "That woman is a prostitute and a card shark."

  "I don't believe you. She's dressed like a lady!"

  "A lady wouldn't be wearing a theater dress midday. Furthermore, ladies don't engage in cards with strange men. My bet is she'll either be kicked off at the next stop or she'll leave with a customer. I hope you're a better judge of character than what you've shown me so far. Idaho is full of crooks and scoundrels just waiting for an innocent to take advantage of."

  "Yourself included?" She was irritated that he could recognize a theater gown from a day dress and for showing her to be so foolish.

  The door to the car opened, letting a small surge of air and engine noise in.

  "Shit!"

  She frowned at him.

  "That's a description of what just walked into the car." Tonio's attention was focused on a short, wiry, smartly dressed man who headed toward them.

  "Tonio! Baker'll be glad to hear you're back." The man spoke to Tonio, but his eyes were on her. He stared in what amounted to a gape, his eyes raking her in a lusty mental undressing. She didn't like him and neither did Tonio. When he didn't respond the man continued, nodding to Angelina as he did, "So that's why you tore out of Idaho. You had a little piece waiting for you back East. Baker wasn't happy when you left so suddenly."

  "Sebastiano died, Clell."

  "What? Did he leave her to you? What a lucky old man!" He didn't offer his condolences. "You'll have a hard time keeping her to yourself, Tonio. The men won't stand for it. I hope you
've got that stiletto of yours sharpened. I might give you a run for her myself. I hear the Italians are screamers. She is one of your kind, isn't she?"

  "What makes you think I'm available?" Angelina's adversarial tone broke through her heavy accent.

  "She speaks English, all the better!" He spoke as if she didn't exist.

  "Drop it, Clell."

  Finally Clell spoke to her. "I know you're not his missus. Tonio won't marry up. You get tired of him, you come see Clell. I'll show you what a real man can do." He patted Tonio on the shoulder. "Just passing through. Saw your friend Jim Burte in the car up ahead. Good work Tonio, we need someone on the inside. Come see us when you get back. We might have a big job for you."

  "Caccola!"

  "Exactly," Tonio said and laughed.

  Tonio stood in the aisle outside his berth and tied his tie without aid of a mirror as he dressed for dinner. "You won't change your mind about dinner?"

  It had occurred to her shortly after Clell had left that Tonio's friend Jim had also thought she was his mistress. Tonio had corrected her, "No, he thinks you're my paid companion, like the lady in gold." She'd been furious.

  "Are you so desperate?"

  "Every man in the mining country is."

  He wasn't easy to insult.

  "We have very few single women. Most of the attractive ones work at the Lux and are as hard as they come." He didn't elaborate. "Idaho isn't Italy and the sooner you get used to it the better. There are no civilized evening strolls or Sunday walks to church where parents chastely parade their eligible daughters before suitable bachelors. It's a valley full of rough, working class men. That's it. When we get there, you'd be advised to watch yourself; married or not, it isn't going to stop most of those men from making a play."

  "Thank you so much for your concern. Why didn't you set your friend straight?"