Harlequin Historical September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: The Lone SheriffThe Gentleman RogueNever Trust a Rebel

by Lynna Banning

  Jericho closed his eyes. “Wish I’d known. Wouldn’t have waited so long.”

  “Yes, you would,” she said with a choked laugh. “One thing I have learned about you, Sheriff, is that you think things through before you make a move.”

  A chuckle rumbled out of his throat. “Just cautious, I guess.”

  “Oh, no, Jericho. I would bet anything it is not caution. It is fear.”

  He gave an involuntary jerk, then tightened his arms around her. “You talk too much, Maddie.”

  He could tell her corset was unlaced, and that top thing she wore over it was loose as well. Then there were all those petticoats...

  Wait just a damn minute. What was he thinking?

  He wanted her. Hell, yes, he wanted her. But dammit, he wasn’t going to send her back to Chicago with his heart in her pocket.

  His arms dropped away.

  “Jericho?”

  “Time for bed.” He drew in an uneven breath. “Alone.”

  “Jericho, stay with me. Please. Just stay beside me.”

  “Jeez, Maddie, I—” He still had on his jeans, but so what? Probably safer that way.

  He drew her over to her bed, pressed her down, and pulled the sheet and the quilt up over her body. Swallowing a groan, he stretched out beside her on top of the quilt and prayed his erection would ease off. He considered stripping down to his drawers but something stayed his hand. Too dangerous. Instead, he rolled toward her and nestled her head against his shoulder.

  Her hair felt like a flutter of silk against his skin. He wanted to weave his fingers through it and kiss her some more. A lot more. Hell, he hadn’t felt this alive, or this scared, since he was a kid at the orphanage.

  He tried like anything to shut down his brain. What was he scared of?

  You’re scared she’ll leave, you idiot.

  Well, hell, she was planning to do just that as soon as she finished this assignment. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about it.

  But he couldn’t stop remembering things—the steely look on her face when confronting that robber in the mail car, the stubborn stiffening of her spine after he’d ordered her back to town when he’d ridden out to find Tucker’s camp, the sparkle in her eyes when she first rode Sundae. And, oh, hell, the bleakness last night when she’d found the mare gone.

  He swallowed a groan. He’d made a big mistake with Maddie O’Donnell. He’d let her slip under his skin when he wasn’t looking, let himself kiss her soft mouth and touch her skin. Now he wondered if he’d ever be free of her.

  Yeah, well, he had to let it go. If he was going to live safe, protect himself like he’d always done, he had to stop thinking about her. Had to stop wanting her.

  He let his eyelids close.

  The next thing he knew it was morning and Maddie was gone.

  * * *

  He found her at breakfast. She was all business, as if last night had never happened. Hell, maybe he’d dreamed it.

  She plunked her coffee cup down and met his gaze. “When we return to Smoke River we must make sure Mr. Warriner at the bank is still amenable to my plan. Then tomorrow we can...”

  Jericho listened as she rattled on. Sitting across from her, drinking his morning coffee, he wondered how he’d gotten through the night. He hadn’t slept much, and now his thoughts were making fuzzy disconnected circles in his brain.

  Finally, he plunked down his coffee cup. “Your idea might work, Maddie. But that’s not what we’re going to do.”

  When she opened her mouth to protest he cut her off with a sharp gesture. “I’ve made a decision, and that’s that.”

  “But why? We agreed to be partners, and now when things—”

  “Be quiet, Maddie. Unless you want me to climb over this table and kiss you silly in front of everybody, just keep your mouth shut and go on eating your breakfast.”

  She looked so completely poleaxed he wanted to laugh. She blushed crimson although kept on forking in her eggs and fried potatoes, but she ate so slowly they almost missed the train back to Smoke River.

  * * *

  Maddie gazed out the train window as the locomotive chuffed slowly into Smoke River. It was actually a pretty little town. Leafy green trees shaded the narrow streets. Every front yard had a garden chock-full of scarlet zinnias or yellow daisies, and honeysuckle vines rambled up porch posts and across verandas. Two little girls in blue gingham pinafores playing hopscotch in front of the church turned to wave at the train.

  She bit her lower lip. But it was such a little town. Only one mercantile, a one-room schoolhouse, only one hotel and a single dressmaker. No opera house. No libraries or fine restaurants or museums or art galleries. What did people do in an out-of-the-way place like this?

  Life here would be twice as boring as being trapped in a city marriage.

  The locomotive tooted one long blast and steamed into the station. They disembarked onto the empty platform, and Jericho grabbed up her small satchel.

  “I’ll walk you to the hotel. Then I have to check the jail and talk to Sandy.”

  Maddie studied his face. A hot flare of something showed in his eyes, followed by a look of resignation.

  “I’ll meet you in the restaurant for supper,” he said.

  “You must be tired of eating all your meals with me, Sheriff.”

  “Nope. Meet me,” he ordered. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  Her heart flipped up and over. “What is it?”

  “You’ll find out, Maddie. Just hold your horses. I’ll see you in an hour.”

  It wasn’t a question, it was an order. Maddie’s spine stiffened. Jericho had no right to order her around. Kissing her last night gave him no control over...anything. They were equals. Partners. A team.

  “I will thank you not to give me orders as if I were a servant,” she said crisply.

  He said not one word all the way to the hotel, and by the time they reached the door to her room, Maddie’s annoyance had bloomed into anger.

  “Did you hear what I said?”

  He scowled and dropped her satchel just inside the door. “You’re not a servant, Maddie, and you know it. But someone has to make sensible decisions, and today it’s gonna be me.”

  She tried to shut the door in his face but he blocked it with one booted foot, touched two fingers to his hat brim and gave her a lopsided grin. Then he tramped back down the staircase.

  She waited five minutes then slipped down the stairs herself and went about her own set of errands. She made good use of the time, and within the hour, she marched into the restaurant armed with new information.

  Jericho was waiting for her at the corner table. His lean tanned face looked tight, and his eyes would not meet hers. With Jericho, that was a bad sign.

  He stood up as she approached. He might have hated the orphanage, but the nuns had surely taught him good manners.

  She settled into the chair opposite him and smiled at Rita, who hovered nearby. “Coffee, please.” She glanced at Jericho’s half-empty cup. “With brandy.”

  The waitress’s eyes were sharply perceptive. “Musta been a tough trip, Miz O’Donnell. Johnny’s on his third cup.”

  He was, was he? She guessed he needed some Dutch courage for what he wanted to tell her. Instinctively she knew it was something she would not want to hear.

  “Is everything all right at the jail?” she ventured.

  “Yeah. Prisoner’s complaining about Sandy’s coffee. Name’s Roscoe Dipley and he’s one son-of-a-miserable-no-count creature if I ever saw one. Keeps bragging how his friends are gonna bust him out of jail.”

  Maddie caught her breath. “Could they really do that?”

  “They could try, but nobody’s gonna bust him free without taking a bellyful of lead. Sandy’s a crack s
hot.”

  “And you would be there, as well. Your wrist has healed nicely.”

  “Yeah, it has. But I won’t be there.”

  Here it comes, she thought. And he knows I will not like it. That is why he won’t look at me. She gulped down a swallow of her brandy-laced coffee.

  “Maddie, I’ve been thinking...”

  “That’s your problem, Jericho. You think too much.”

  His eyes flashed a darker blue. “I don’t call it ‘thinking too much.’ I call it planning ahead.”

  “And what is it we are planning, Sheriff?”

  “We are not planning anything. I’m riding out in the morning with Colonel Halliday and Rooney Cloudman. We’re gonna surprise the Tucker gang in their hideout.”

  “But...but I thought you always worked alone?”

  “Not this time. I want this over and done with. Now. The way to do that is...well, to use help. Professional help,” he added.

  She clenched her fist in her lap. “You said we would try my plan next. My plan,” she said, narrowing her eyes, “is not yet finished.”

  “It is finished,” he said flatly.

  “It is not finished.” Her voice rose half an octave. “The next step is when we board the train again and capture—”

  “It’s no good, Maddie.” He raked his fingers through his dark hair.

  “Why not? It was good before!” She knew her voice was getting louder, but she didn’t care.

  “Things are different now,” he growled.

  “What things? Our plan was to fake the gold—”

  “Dammit, keep your voice down. You want the whole town to know?”

  Maddie bit her lip and stared out the front window to get herself under control. It was getting dark outside, she noted. And she was getting hungry.

  “Jericho,” she said in as patient a voice as she could manage. “We need to capture the Tucker gang. We can do that if we take the train to Portland tomorrow morning and—”

  “No, we can’t.” A muscle twitched under his eye. “We’re not gonna do that. And we’re not gonna jaw about it. Rita?” He signaled the waitress. “Bring us a couple of steaks.”

  Rita grinned. “How—”

  “Rare,” he snapped.

  “Miz O’Donnell?”

  Maddie glowered at Jericho. “Rare. And more coffee, just like the last cup, please, only more brandy.”

  They waited in icy silence until their dinners arrived, and for the next half hour the only sounds were the clink of silverware and the tink of cups on china saucers.

  Maddie swallowed the last of her liquor-laced coffee and noticed a pleasant warmth spreading through her chest. She was still furious with him, but she knew enough to keep quiet until they were alone.

  Jericho ordered a fourth refill on his coffee and she ground her teeth in impatience. Finally, finally, he ushered her out into the warm, softly scented air of what should have been a pleasant summer evening.

  “Jericho—”

  “Not now, Maddie.” He walked her all the way to her hotel room without speaking.

  “You had better come in,” she said, clipping off each word, “so we can straighten out this misunderstanding.”

  Jericho did not answer, just strode into her room and slammed the door behind him.

  Maddie pinned him with hard green eyes. “I spoke with Mr. Warriner at the bank earlier this afternoon. Our original plan is in place, and tomorrow morning the train leaves at seven o’clock.”

  “The hell it does!” Jericho exploded.

  “It most certainly does,” Maddie shouted in his face. “Jericho Silver, what has gotten into you all of a sudden?” She turned away to light the lamp on the dresser but he caught her arm. He was so mad he couldn’t say a damn thing for a full minute.

  “Well?” she shouted. Instantly she clapped her hand over her mouth. “Good heavens, I never shout. In all my life I cannot remember ever raising my voice like this to anyone.”

  Jericho had never before felt such pure, uncomplicated rage. “What’s gotten into me? You are what’s gotten into me, Maddie! I don’t want to— I can’t risk— Oh, the hell with it.”

  He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, hard. She pummeled his chest with her fists, but he kept kissing her and gradually she quieted.

  But she didn’t pull away.

  “Maddie,” he said when he could breathe again. “I can’t put you in danger.”

  Even in the dark he could see the way her eyes blazed. “Why, you great big liar!” But her voice was different, softer than he’d ever heard it. “Feeling responsible for me is only half the reason,” she continued. “The other half is... Oh, my, I do not think I can say this.”

  “The other half is that I...” His voice turned hoarse. “I said it before. I can’t stand knowing you might get hurt. I care about that, Maddie. A lot.”

  That was only half true. The truth was he cared about her. “Maddie, please. I’ve got to go with Wash and Rooney tomorrow morning. I’ve got to.”

  She said nothing, but a sparkling drop of moisture clung to her dark lashes, and that did him in.

  “Maddie.” He scooped her up into his arms, laid her on the bed and followed her down. He wanted to hold her tight against him, wanted to touch her. He caught her mouth under his and moved over her lips until he couldn’t think straight.

  When he lifted his head, she stared up at him. “I have just one thing to say, Jericho Silver.”

  “Yeah? Say it.”

  “You think a kiss is going to change my mind, do you not?”

  “Oh, hell, Maddie. It was more than just a kiss, and you know it.”

  He kissed her forehead, her throat, the soft place behind her ear, and gradually her breathing steadied and then slowed. His own was getting hard to control.

  “Maddie, we’re gonna be in trouble if you don’t tell me to stop.”

  “I do not want you to stop,” she murmured. “I want this to go on forever.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Maddie,” Jericho breathed. “You sure you really want this?”

  He knew what he wanted. He’d wanted it ever since she walked off that train and into his life. But he had a job to do. Now he was facing two jobs—bringing in the Tucker gang and keeping Maddie safe.

  Just enough moonlight filtered through the muslin curtains to illuminate her face. She was smiling, and her answer rocked him down to his toes.

  “Jericho, take off your gun belt.”

  He rolled away from her to wrestle the metal tongue free, then slid the sheathed revolvers onto the floor beside the bed.

  “And your boots,” she whispered.

  When they thumped onto the carpet next to his sidearms she gave a half-swallowed sigh and rose up to kiss one side of his mouth. The brush of her lips felt like a butterfly landing near his chin.

  “Now take off everything else.”

  Jericho blinked. For a minute he wasn’t sure he’d heard right. This was Mrs. Detective, Maddie O’Donnell? Hell, he’d wanted to see her naked a hundred times, but he’d never dreamed she would want...

  He stood and stripped to his drawers.

  “Everything,” she reminded.

  “Now you, Maddie.” His voice was so thick it was hard to get the words out.

  She sighed again. “I want you to do it.”

  He laughed out loud. Maddie had to be the most unusual woman in the entire territory.

  “Maddie,” he whispered against her ear. “Are you sure about this? Because if you’re not—”

  She gave him a lazy smile. “Oh, yes, I am sure. I have been sure ever since you first kissed me that night at the boardinghouse.”

  Jericho could think of nothing to say. Ever since then, he’d
thought more about that kiss than he’d thought about getting enough to eat.

  “I was beginning to think you were never going to kiss me again after that first time,” she breathed. “I thought perhaps you did not remember it.”

  “Didn’t think I had the right to kiss you again.” He slipped the top button of her blouse free. “But that didn’t stop the wanting.”

  Her skin was like warm silk. He wanted to touch her all over. He freed three more of the tiny buttons and spread the soft fabric open to press his mouth against her bare flesh. He kissed her all the way down to the lacy neckline of her camisole.

  Her breathing checked and then he felt her hands on his bare chest. The hard swelling between his thighs began to ache.

  Think of something else before you lose control and make a complete fool of yourself.

  “Funny what kissing someone does,” he murmured. “Afterward you can say things you might have thought about before but you never had the guts to say.” He undid another button and loosened the ribbon of her camisole.

  “Take this off,” he said hoarsely. “Before I rip it.”

  She sat up, fiddled with buttonholes and ribbons and hooks, then petticoats and a bustle contraption tied around her waist. Shoes. Stockings. When a man was as hungry as he was, undressing a woman was way too slow. He wanted to tear everything away and bury his face against her flesh.

  She stretched out beside him and slowly raised her arms over her head. With a groan, Jericho took one peaked nipple into his mouth.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Oh, yes.”

  He could tell she was smiling; her voice sounded so...happy. Well, hell, he was smiling, too. They were both crazy as loons to be doing this. But he didn’t feel crazy; he felt very sure. And, dammit, very scared.

  Her entire silk-soft body smelled of lavender. Her breasts, everywhere he put his mouth, or his tongue, or both, tasted sweet, like ripe peaches. He shook his head at the thought. From now on, peaches would be his favorite fruit.

  He smoothed his palm up one bare thigh, wove his fingers through the silky hair at her apex and heard her breath hiss in. Hell, he couldn’t hold on much longer. He dipped one finger into her center and she cried out.