California Gold by John Jakes Page A

I do like that. Walter’s so contained and tight. Every action and utterance carefully considered. Typical lawyer: no blood, no passion.” She leaned back against the eucalyptus and rested her head. The golden scarf shimmered in the fog, glowing now with a radiance almost pure white. He saw the line of her breasts silhouetted against the light and he grew stiff, quickly and uncontrollably.
    “Tell me about yourself,” she said.
    “Let’s see. My great-grandfather was a traveling tinker in England. My grandfather owned a public house in London but he sold it to come to America—Ohio, where my pa was born. James Ohio Chance was his name. He came out here in the Gold Rush, and met and married a Hibernian lady—not a popular thing for a Protestant to do.”
    “I went to a Catholic girls’ school near Monterey,” Carla interrupted. “Saint Ursula’s. The nuns taught a number of Protestant girls from good families. I was bored, and I made such a fuss, Swampy took me to Europe when I was eleven. I visited Europe three times before I was sixteen.”
    “With your father and mother?”
    “With a paid companion. Swampy stayed in California. I never knew my mother. She ran off when I was a baby.”
    “Did you meet that Polish count in Europe?”
    “Boleslaw? Yes. He chased me to this country and Papa persuaded me to marry him. It was a ghastly mistake, but Boleslaw was an attractive man, and I couldn’t see beneath—” She shivered suddenly. “The fog’s chilly. Come keep me warm.”
    He slid over and hesitantly slipped his arm around her. She murmured and snuggled down, resting her hand on his left knee. The light pressure turned his member so hard it hurt, and he shifted away just a little.
    “I’ve never met a young man quite like you, Mack Chance. You’re bold, yet you’re very shy.”
    “No, no—well, I guess. With you. I don’t know much about rich girls.”
    “It’s time you learned, and here’s your first lesson.” She touched him again, and brought her mouth close. He felt the swell of her breast against his shirt as her tongue explored. Then she paused. “Here’s the second one. When I can’t get something—that’s when I want it most. I go after it until I have it.” She caressed his hair. “Fair warning?” Another kiss. “Walter Fairbanks would probably commit murder to get where you are now.”
    “I’m not Walter Fairbanks.”
    “Thank heaven.” She ran her tongue over his cheek. “You can help me forget.”
    He stroked her face in turn. “Forget what?”
    “The past couple of years. Boleslaw, the count, was a handsome man, but he was vicious. I don’t mind someone getting drunk, but I discovered that he had worse addictions. Opium. And he didn’t care for a husband’s duties in the boudoir. But he liked to hire these dreadful depraved people from the streets and watch while—well, I was lucky to get out.” Another shiver then. “I didn’t think marriage was supposed to leave scars, but mine did.”
    He was too shocked to speak. Her smile seemed less assured, sad again. “I’ll be going to San Francisco soon too. Only a short visit. Some shopping, a couple of social affairs—then I’m going away for a while. I need to be by myself, to get rid of some of the bad memories.” She kissed him. “I think you could definitely help.” She giggled. “Can you picture Swampy’s face if he knew I was making love to someone without a penny?”
    That was ice water dashed in his face. He untangled himself and jumped up.
    “What’s wrong?” she said, getting up too.
    “Miss Hellman, don’t use me to get back at your father.”
    She slapped him. He grabbed her arm. To his amazement, she laughed, then flung her other arm around his neck and plunged her tongue in his mouth. His loins shook from the grinding contact of her body.
    “I’m not, I’m not, my dear,” she said, her hand dropping to squeeze him. He nearly exploded. “Mack, I want to make love. Please, you’ve