by Alison Kent
As soon as they stepped inside the livery, she stopped and turned to him. “I have to go back there,” she said, raising a restraining hand at his look of angry disbelief. “Not right now—I understand the mess I may have caused. But it’s my grandmother’s house—the Golden Slipper. I’m almost certain.”
Sam frowned. “I’ve been here over two years now. That place was built last year.”
“No, later it gets sold, I’m guessing, and somehow my family buys it or—” Frustrated, excited, she pushed the stifling bonnet off her head and fluffed out her hair. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I’m pretty sure my grandmother ends up with the house. I was standing in the attic right before I passed out and—” The sudden look of pity in his eyes stopped her cold. “Forget it. I don’t expect you to believe me.”
She fidgeted with the bonnet and unfastened the restrictive top button of the high-necked blouse, which pressed against her throat.
He glanced over his shoulder, then gestured for her to keep walking. “Go to the back before someone comes poking around.”
“If it’s too difficult to hide me…if that scene I caused brings the sheriff around…” She took an anxious breath. “I don’t blame you if you give me up.”
“Sunday afternoon. He’s visiting Margaret. He won’t want to be disturbed.”
“Oh, good.” Reese sighed with relief.
As they walked side by side toward the back room, her shoulder brushed Sam’s arm. She’d accidentally touched him before, although this time it was different. Another flash of heat made her skin tingle. She gave him a sidelong glance but saw no reaction. This was so crazy. She was tired, that’s all.
They got to the room and he pushed open the ineffective door. The sun seeped in through one of the gaps in the wall, throwing a shaft of sunlight across the cot.
Sam frowned. “I’ll go put up that board now.”
She crossed the threshold and then spun around to look at him. “If the sheriff did find me, what would he do with me?”
Amusement flickered in Sam’s brown eyes. “Throw you in jail.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “You think that’s funny?”
The corners of his mouth twitched. “I reckon Sheriff Ames might find you’re too much trouble to keep in his jail.”
“Really?” She liked men with a sense of humor, but not when the threat of her being locked up seemed too real. A thought flashed through her mind. “Wouldn’t he give me to Margaret?”
The humor left Sam’s face. “Yes.”
She paced the small room, trying to think. “That would get me into the house,” she murmured to herself.
He grabbed her arm and forced her to face him. His harsh, forbidding expression made her flinch. “You want to be a whore?”
“No, of course not.” She moved her arm, finding his grip painful, and he abruptly released her. “I wouldn’t do that. I would—” She cleared her suddenly parched throat.
“What would you do, Reese?” he asked quietly.
He’d never used her name before, or if he had, not like this, his tone a caress that slid over her skin and warmed her insides.
She met his intense gaze. “Why did you kiss me?”
He looked nearly as horrified as she felt for impulsively uttering the words, and then his expression went blank. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked pointedly at the gap in the wall. “I’ll fix the crack and then make supper.”
Like him, she was more than willing to ignore the foolish question. “Sam, I know I’ve already asked for so much, but what I really would like is a bath.” She glanced around the room, already knowing there was nothing to accommodate her. But there had to be a way. Maybe he had a tub behind the hay. She didn’t care where it was. She was hot and sticky, and it had been too long since yesterday’s shower. “Is that possible?”
He nodded once, his gaze briefly touching her breasts. His nostrils flared slightly. “I’ll heat some water.”
“Thank you.” She felt frustratingly helpless as she watched him leave the room. Offering to make their meal was out because she didn’t think she could handle the wood stove, or making anything from scratch, for that matter. She was more a microwave and frozen dinner kind of gal.
Today was Sunday, he’d said. Yesterday at Grandma Lily’s house it had been Saturday. They were on the same calendar, at least. But did that mean anything? Other than the fact that she had an appointment tomorrow to meet with a hospital administrator to discuss her new job.
Groaning, she sank onto the edge of the cot. What would happen when it seemed that she’d fallen off the face of the earth? She couldn’t imagine how her sister had reacted to finding her missing. Poor Ellie. Tears welled and Reese ruthlessly blinked them away. She needed to keep her wits about her. If she stayed calm and focused, she was certain she’d find the answer that would get her home.
A pounding behind her made her jump. She twisted around to see that the gap in the wall had been repaired. There were several other small openings, but nothing she couldn’t live with. Someone would have to work hard at being able to see inside, and with no window, she welcomed the small amount of light the shoddy workmanship allowed.
At least now she could get out of the suffocating clothes. She imagined it would take Sam a while to heat the water, although she hoped he didn’t get it too hot. What she really needed was a dip in her pool. She sighed from the pleasure of simply thinking about such a luxury, and unbuttoned her blouse, which she then quickly stripped off. Next she unlaced her shoes and toed them off. The skirt was easy to unhook, and she slid the yards of blue cotton down her thighs.
She bent over to pick up the skirt, and heard the brief knock. Before she could take cover, the door creaked open.
SAM FROZE IN HIS TRACKS. At the sight of her near nakedness, his heart thundered. Not just her back, but her legs were that light golden color. But that wasn’t what kept him powerless to move. The same red silk that bound her breasts stretched across her hips in a narrow strip, but left most of her buttocks showing. He’d never have imagined it. The skin was golden there, too.
She slowly turned toward him, and his gaze went straight to the red silky triangle that covered her woman’s place. She swooped the skirt up and held it against her body.
Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and she held the skirt closer to herself. “I’m sorry. I thought you’d be a while.”
He swallowed, willing his hardening cock to go down, anxious to put the wood tub between them. But the old trough was heavy and he had to drag it through the door, not sure it would make it past the narrow frame. He always took his baths near the stove so he didn’t have far to carry the water.
The trough wouldn’t move easily but he favored fighting with it over having to look Reese in the eye. He should be the one apologizing for surprising her. Or might be it was best to ignore the whole situation. He didn’t have much experience being around women. Not one who was a lady. Whores were bred different.
He finally pulled the trough into the room close to the cot. Reese backed away. He was kind of hoping for another look at her fine fleshy buttocks, but he forced his mind to veer from that line of thinking. Bad enough he’d been un-gentlemanly, and he still couldn’t get his cock to ease up.
With his eyes cast downward, he said, “The water should be ready soon.”
“I can help bring—”
“No.” He made the grave error of looking at her. She still had the skirt drawn to her body, but the top part of her bosom was in plain view. He inhaled deeply, trying not to stare at the plump mounds of golden flesh.
Without another word, he headed for the door, and when he got on the other side, closed it as tight as he could behind him. If he had his druthers, he wouldn’t lay eyes on her again till mornin’. The woman was gonna make him as loco as old man Wilson, who’d taken to howling at the moon every time it came up full.
Hoping to dull the ache in his loins, Sam checked on the water he was heat
ing, and then tended the horses. He still had to muck out the stables, look in on Doc and fix their supper. The day was near gone. In three hours the sun would set and the boys would be at it again. Wouldn’t take them long to get liquored up, get separated from their gold by fast dealt cards, and then try to settle their differences with a gun. He hoped Doc would be up to the task of sewing the stupid bastards up.
Reese would do the mending, Sam knew, and she’d do a better job than Doc, but that upped the risk of her getting caught. He thought back to what she’d said about the sheriff handing her over to Margaret, and his blood boiled. Didn’t she understand what Margaret would make her do for her keep? No one was gonna listen to her crazy story about being from another time. Talk like that might even ruin her chances at earning whore money. Margaret would have her whipped.
He tested the water, his temper growing just thinking about the way that old miner had put his filthy hands on her. It was plain she hadn’t put on any of the petticoats Doc had given her. Damn it. A man could get the wrong idea about a woman not wearing a petticoat. Didn’t Reese understand that?
Not that he liked the notion, but tomorrow he’d help her, even if that meant going to the Golden Slipper and poking around. He didn’t expect he’d find anything, but if he could ease her mind that there was nothing here for her, might be she’d move on.
Damn it. For two years he’d lived here in peace and quiet. Not a soul but Doc knew who he was, or about the evil he’d done. No one nosed around. Even the sheriff had let him be. Until Reese came.
Sam hauled up one of the buckets of heated water, and just knowing he was about to see her, felt his groin start to ache again. She sure had soft lips. But right as rain, the woman was gonna get him hanged.
8
REESE DIDN’T CARE about the rough, scratchy inside of the tub, or that the soap had an odd odor and a grainy consistency. Well, that wasn’t true, she did care a little bit, but she was just so glad to be sitting in an actual bath. She hadn’t realized how much her muscles ached from the fall yesterday—two falls, in fact, the first in Grandma Lily’s attic. She appreciated the warm water that eased some of the ache, aware that it wasn’t easy to come by.
Sam had made several trips, carrying two heavy buckets, to fill the tub. She’d offered to help twice, but his only reply had been a dark scowl and an averted gaze. She hated that he was so angry with her. He’d been nothing but kind, despite the fact that he probably wanted to kick her out on her ass, and she didn’t know how to repay him. Although she had an idea that disappearing out of his life would be all the thanks he wanted.
She wanted that, too. More than anything. She simply didn’t know how to achieve that end. Never in her life could she recall feeling so utterly helpless. What she’d wanted, she always got. Schools, dates, grades, the right clothes, an enviable sports car, a house on the beach, the perfect career. Everything had come easily. Not to say she hadn’t worked hard, but still, she’d been lucky, she knew. Incredibly lucky.
Reese laid her head back on the strips of toweling Sam had thoughtfully provided, closed her eyes and thought about her parents. Their devoted attention was one thing that had eluded her. They loved her, of course, she knew that, but they loved the spotlight more. They loved the publicity and the money and the way studios bowed to their demands.
How much of her success was attributable to them? The television gig, possibly, but the rest? How much had come her way simply because she was Brad and Linea Winslow’s daughter? Oddly, she’d never considered that possibility before, and she didn’t like it. No, not so odd, really. When had she ever had this much idle time to think? Her life was a total whirlwind, sweeping her from one engagement to the next. She worked hard, too hard to be denied her own credit. That she was a Winslow was secondary.
Sadly, even to her parents. Would they miss her? When they found out she’d vanished, would they fly back from Spain or Monaco or wherever they happened to be? She rather doubted they would. Maybe after she’d been gone a month.
Ellie, on the other hand, would be frantic. She’d probably hired a private detective by now.
When the loud knock came, Reese knew that, like the last two times when he’d come to fill the tub, Sam wouldn’t open the door until she gave permission. However, unlike before, she was already in the water, with no means to cover herself. There were no suds to block his view. The best she could do was take the coarse strips of towel from behind her head and float them over her body.
“Come in,” she called, her heart picking up speed. Not from fear. It was that damn kiss that still had her worked up.
He opened the door, his gaze carefully averted from her nude body beneath the water as he carried in two more buckets. She didn’t understand. He’d already filled the tub to the brim.
At her questioning look, he lifted one of the buckets, which she now saw was empty. “The water’s gotten cool. I mean to take some out.” He jerked his head toward the other bucket. “Put in more heated water.”
Her lips parted, but she couldn’t speak. She’d given him nothing other than grief, yet…Now she knew for sure that she was overly tired. She swallowed around the lump in her throat. Afraid the tears would come, she quickly submerged her head, then surged back up out of the water and wiped her face with her palms.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice shaky. “Here. I’ll scoop it up.”
He handed her the empty bucket, his expression a wary mixture of frustration and confusion. Then he turned his back while she filled the container. She got on her knees, then tried to stand, hoping to be able to set the bucket outside the tub. She was in pretty good shape because she always made time for cardio exercise and weight training, but once it was full, she could barely lift it out of the water.
She noisily cleared her throat and slid back down to her knees. Even though she floated the towel strategically, he would inevitably see more than he should. That didn’t bother her, but it might him. “Um, Sam?”
“Yep.” He kept his back to her.
“You’ll have to turn around so you can help me lift this bucket out of the tub.”
Slowly, he swiveled around. His body jerked slightly when he saw that she was kneeling with her shoulders out of the water, the bucket the only thing blocking his view of her naked breasts.
His strong, tanned throat worked with his swallow.
“I know this is awkward,” she said. “But I’m sure you’ve seen a woman’s breasts before.”
His mouth tightened; other than that his expression gave nothing away as he reached for the bucket handle. She’d planned on crossing her arms over herself as soon as he grasped the pail and pulled it out of the tub. But his taciturn mask annoyed her and ignited a perverse streak of stubbornness that had gotten her into a jam on a couple of occasions.
She’d seen the hunger in his eyes earlier when he’d walked in on her. She’d also seen the bulge at his fly. His stupid, silent indifference didn’t fool her. So what. These were different times. He’d started it. She hadn’t asked him to kiss her and send her mind in foolish directions.
Reese stayed right where she was, her arms at her sides, her breasts visible and bobbing slightly in the water. His biceps bunching beneath the tan shirt, he lifted the heavy bucket, and his gaze went straight to her breasts. He seemed transfixed, frozen, even as he muttered something under his breath.
“I think you’ll have to dump the warm water in, too,” she said, reminding him to move. “I won’t be able to do it myself.”
“What?” His heated eyes slowly met hers, and a dull flush crawled up his throat to his face.
He quickly looked away and set down the filled bucket, and then picked up the other one. Stopping, he slid his long, lean fingers into his breast pocket, his gaze staying on his boots. “I got this from Doc. Belonged to his wife,” he said, thrusting a small square packet at her.
Their fingers brushed and he yanked his hand back so fast water sloshed out of the bucket onto the floor.
She hid a smile. “What is it?” As soon as she asked the question, the pleasing scent of lavender drifted up to her nose.
“Sweet salts,” he said, his eyes still averted. “You put it in the water.”
“Thank you, Sam.” She was so touched by his unrelenting kindness, her voice broke.
His gaze shot to her then, regret darkening his eyes before he looked away again. “I won’t be bringing in any more water,” he said gruffly, and dumped what he had into the tub.
Delicious warmth spread around her. “Do you want to take a bath?” she asked impulsively.
He frowned, his dark brows dipping in bewilderment as he reluctantly cast another look her way. “Ma’am?”
She bit off a nervous laugh. She wasn’t sure what she meant, either. If he wanted to join her, it would be a horribly tight fit, but she wouldn’t refuse. The mere thought of his naked body rubbing against hers made her skin tingle and her nipples ache.
“It’s a shame to waste all this water.” She tried not to look, but she couldn’t help it. The front of his Levi’s stuck so far out it was impossible not to stare.
“Supper will be ready in half an hour,” he murmured, and sped through the door so quickly he forgot the other bucket.
HE’D BURNED THE BACON. And the biscuits. Sam crouched by the stove and pulled the iron skillet away from the fire with disgust. She was a confounding woman. He didn’t understand her one bit. She liked trying his sorely strained patience, that was a given.
Damn her. He rubbed his fly but found no relief. Looked like he was gonna have to go to the Golden Slipper and spend some of that money he had socked away. The skillet slipped when he tried to move it, and burned his little finger. Damn the woman.
Didn’t she understand she couldn’t be saying the things she did to a man? Or let him see her bare bosom, as if he could ignore those pretty little pink nipples? She couldn’t be that innocent, no matter where she came from. Sam stared at the slab of bacon, black at the edges. Unless she wanted beans, she was gonna have to eat this. That’s all there was to it.
