“Where I come from, we say thank you when someone does us a kindness.”
“Thank you,” he ground out.
“You’re welcome. And thank you for…uh…for taking me back? No, that doesn’t sound right. Strange as it may seem, I’d rather be your prisoner than Nate and Rusty’s.” She laughed without humor. “So, um, thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Did they…hurt you?”
Nicky shuddered a bit. “No, just some groping.”
Tyler’s fist clenched. Goddamn them for touching her. “I should’ve killed them.”
Nicky’s cheeks flamed at his bald statement. She turned quickly and started cleaning up. He grasped her arm to quell her movements. The touch was like a leap of fire from his hand to the pit of his belly to his balls.
“This changes nothing, magpie. You’re still going to Cheshire with me.”
Nicky shook her head. “No, I won’t.”
Chapter Ten
Nicky’s hope for escape from Tyler came a few days later. They had stopped in a town at the juncture between Colorado, Wyoming, and Nebraska. While rummaging in her saddlebag, her fingers came in contact with something hard, small…a hairpin. Her hopes soared as plans for unlocking her shackles bloomed in her mind. Trying to hide her smile from Tyler, she tucked the hairpin into her pocket and turned. They were in front of a hotel.
“We’ll get a room for tonight.”
A room? One room? He was going to share a hotel room with her?
“B-but, what will they think?”
Tyler suddenly smiled. And it was absolutely devastating. The flash of his white teeth made every wisp of breath whoosh out of her body. Holy crow, he had dimples.
Steady, Nicky.
“Nicole, are you worried about your reputation?” His voice was low, husky. He unlocked the shackles with deliberate slowness, unobtrusively caressing the exposed skin as he removed the metal bands. He was amused. Amused she could possibly be worried about spending the night in a hotel with an unmarried man. At least she thought he wasn’t married.
“Tyler, you’re not married, are you?”
“No. Never thought a wife would keen to a job like this.” His smile was gone.
“Oh.”
Nicky averted her eyes, looking straight at his broad chest. A peek of black hair tufted out at the collar of his shirt. Nicky’s fingers twitched with the urge to feel that soft, curling hair she had seen in the firelight days ago. My, oh my, but that was the hardest thing she had ever had to do—look at that simply magnificent chest and pretend to ignore it. Just the memory of it heated her cheeks.
He jammed the shackles into his saddlebags with a small grunt. One strong hand grasped her upper arm, steering her toward the hotel. “Let’s go.”
———
The hotel manager blustered at Tyler’s request for one room, but he was determined to sleep on a bed that night dammit. His fingers were still curled around Nicky’s arm. It was oddly comforting to touch her, even if it was just her arm. His other hand rested on the butt of the pistol strapped to his thigh. She looked faintly amused at the argument.
“This woman is my prisoner. I don’t plan on doing anything other than sleeping in a bed. We’ve been on hard ground for too many days,” he said to the pompous little snit behind the desk.
He had never, ever let any of his prisoners stay in a hotel with him, but he couldn’t shake Nicky’s warning about taking her own life if he put her in another jail cell. He told himself that he needed her alive for the double bounty.
“But sir, you said yourself you’re not married. I couldn’t allow you to share a room. What would people think of my establishment after that?” The bald portly man goggled at Tyler through thick spectacles. He looked about to pass out or have apoplexy.
Tyler leaned in close to the man who immediately shrank back toward the wall.
“Are you telling me that I have to marry this woman to sleep in one of your hotel rooms?” he asked through clenched teeth.
Nicky’s smirk disappeared. She straightened up and bumped him with her elbow. He glared at her.
“Why, Tyler,” she said sweetly, fluttering her eyelids. “Don’t you want to marry me?”
His right eyebrow arched up as he regarded her. Her cheeks flushed a dark shade of pink. She was lovely. Her blush confirmed for him painfully that Nicole Malloy was a woman, and not always the hard outlaw she strived to be.
“Are you proposing, Nicole?” he murmured.
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out, so she shut it.
“I’ve never seen you at a loss for words, magpie,” he drawled, teasing her, relishing her discomfort.
“I…sure, why not? Will you marry me, Tyler?” she challenged.
Dammit all, she did it again. Tyler was surprised. He sure as hell hadn’t expected a marriage proposal. He rubbed his chin with his free hand, the day-old stubble rasping under his fingers.
“There a JP in town?” he asked the hotel manager.
“Two doors down, at the general store.” The manager’s voice conveyed relief as he mopped his perspiring brow with a crisp white handkerchief.
“Okay, Nicole.” He turned to her, grinning. “Let’s get married.”
Nicky must have thought he’d lost his senses. Her mouth dropped open as she gaped at him. Unwanted tiny shivers of delight made their way down his back as he contemplated her lovely mouth. Tyler leaned over and gently closed it with a thumb. She looked as shocked as if he’d suggested she should run through the streets buck naked.
“We’ll be back in ten minutes. Hold a room,” Tyler commanded the little man. He jumped at Tyler’s voice and nodded enthusiastically.
Tyler grabbed her arm, pulling her toward the door. She stumbled but he stopped her fall easily. She looked up at him and Tyler could see that she was frightened. Bone-deep scared. There it was again. That glimpse of the woman that hid beneath the man’s clothes and gruff mannerisms.
“Tyler, you can’t be serious.” She didn’t notice that she had started calling him Tyler when she let her guard down—but Tyler did. He pulled a certain kind of pleasure from it.
“It’ll save us a whole heap of trouble. We won’t have to tell people where we’re going or why. Would you rather spend the nights in every jail cell from here to Cheshire, or sleeping on the ground waiting for those idiots Nate and Rusty to catch up with us again? We’ll have it annulled as soon as we get there. Besides, you asked me.”
Nicky’s head snapped up as she straightened to her full height. Ah, she was back. The little doe was gone.
“Don’t think for a minute this is going to be a real marriage,” she whispered through clenched teeth. “Okay, Calhoun, let’s go.” She took off her hat and tried vainly to finger comb her thick locks.
“The blushing bride?”
She jabbed him hard in the arm with a sharp elbow. As he hissed in pain, his grip tightened on her arm and they left the hotel. The next ten minutes were a blur. The justice of the peace was a sweet, white-haired man who married them in minutes. Tyler heard Nicky say “I do” when prompted. He pulled his mother’s gold band out of his pocket and pushed it on her finger.
Like a wooden marionette, she signed her name, Nicole Francesca Malloy, below his, Tyler Francis Calhoun, on the marriage certificate, which promptly went into his pocket. He gave the justice of the peace a dollar and pulled her out of the store.
Tyler’s thoughts whirled madly. All he seemed able to focus on was her middle name, Francesca, and his, Francis.
Who would have thought they had almost the same middle name?
Like two halves of the same whole.
He never really contemplated his own wedding, but he was sure Nicky had. A beautiful dress, her family, a loving husband, and a church. None of those even came close to the truth of their wedding over a barrel of crackers, the bride in dirty jeans with tangled hair, and the groom with two six-guns strapped to his thighs and a knife wound in his arm.
Within minutes
they were back at the steps of the hotel, and then in the lobby. It was as if nothing had happened.
“Did that really just happen?” she murmured. He felt the same way.
Their gazes locked. Her green eyes wavered slightly. How could he possibly sleep in the same room with this woman?
“Are you going to want to take a bath?” he blurted.
She nodded.
“Send up a bath for my wife,” Tyler shot at the desk clerk as he grabbed the key from his hand.
Then they were in the hotel room. Tyler closed and locked the door behind them, and pocketed the key.
Tyler didn’t know why he’d gone off and married this woman, but damned if she didn’t look like she’d been shot. Maybe she’d hush up now and keep a civil tongue. Tyler’s lips curved into a small smile. As if that was ever going to happen with his magpie. Nicky Malloy, no, Nicole Calhoun now, made sure she was heard.
Standing behind her, he had a clear view of her behind. In those jeans, it was a deliciously curvy view. Her legs were long and slender, and her waist looked so damned small. Her chestnut curls were sticking up every which way. His hand twitched as the urge to run his fingers through her hair burst upon him. Tyler tried to steer his thoughts away from that direction. She may be his wife temporarily, but she was first and foremost an outlaw on her way to justice. He cleared his throat. She started at the sound and jumped away from him.
Her gaze locked on his throat. Funny he hadn’t noticed before now that her eyes were the color of the ocean when she was frightened. She nibbled her lower lip. Why was she frightened? Because of him?
“Do you…I mean…are you sleeping on the floor or the bed?”
Oh, so that’s what was on her mind.
“Nicole, you have to sleep next to me. The shackles only reach so far. We’ll both sleep on the bed, but don’t worry, I always sleep with my clothes on. Your virtue is safe with me.”
Her eyes narrowed as her lips came together in a thin, white line.
“Of course. Silly me. The shackles are off for appearances.” She crossed her arms and sat down sharply on the stuffed burgundy chair in the corner. “Virtue, huh? You wouldn’t know the meaning of the word, bounty hunter.”
“Truer words were never spoken.”
A loud rap at the door heralded the arrival of the tub. After the hotel boys had filled it with steaming water, Tyler tipped them and then relocked the door. Nicky hadn’t moved, sullenly staring at him with a fierce look.
“Use the water now, or I will.”
She stood with her arms rigid. “There is no privacy screen in here. At least have the courtesy to step outside.”
He made no move.
“Well, then sit by the window and turn your back to me.” She was on the verge of shouting. “Leave me some dignity.”
Turning the chair away from the tub, Tyler did as she bade, looking out the window as darkness fell over the town—realizing it was the second time he had turned his back to her, something he just didn’t do. Ever. He could hear her undressing. The sound of her pants sliding down her legs made his fists clench. The imagination of a man in heat is like a stampede of longhorns. Powerful, sharp, and seemingly unstoppable.
It took every ounce of self-control he possessed to ignore each splash she made. Desire coursed through him like a raging river. He had never felt it like this, and it was for a woman who was an outlaw. He cursed himself a thousand times, trying to dismiss her from his mind, but he couldn’t. The invisible thread was very short between them now. She was naked, six feet away, and goddamn it all, she was his wife. A sexy, dangerous, tempting wife.
———
It was the first time Nicky had gotten completely undressed in two weeks. She almost groaned as she unwrapped the bindings from around her breasts. The freedom felt wonderful, nearly sensual. Keeping her breasts bound helped her maintain the appearance of a man, although it was beyond uncomfortable.
The water made barely a splash as she entered. She sighed as she felt the simple pleasure from the heat of the water. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d had a hot bath. Normally, she bathed in the cold creek or used a basin of warm water to wash up. Using a sliver of soap, she lathered her hair and herself, keeping a close eye on Tyler. He didn’t turn around once. She didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved.
Nicky reluctantly left the tub and toweled off with the linen provided by the hotel, then dressed quickly in her last set of clean clothes, yanking on her jeans and buttoning her shirt with trembling hands.
———
She hovered behind him, and the smell of her freshly scrubbed skin assailed his senses. He swallowed a groan.
“Your turn, Calhoun.”
He stood, and tried not to let his mouth unhinge when he caught sight of his dangerous wife. Somehow, Nicky’s breasts had grown considerably larger.
She must have had them bound before, and now they were as free as the breeze.
Holy hell!
He had to tear his gaze from her delicious-looking breasts, which sported pouting nipples and eye-popping curves. Her thick hair curled in wet waves while she tried to finger comb it. He felt like grease on a hot griddle.
What the hell was he supposed to look at now?
“I can’t find my brush.”
Tyler virtually attacked his saddlebag and rooted around for a minute while he calmed himself down. He handed her his brush roughly. A bruise from Nate’s abuse stood out on her cheekbone like a flag to his wounded conscience, and her nose was still slightly swollen. God, she was beautiful. How was he supposed to resist her?
“I don’t know if it will get through your hair, but it’s better than nothing.”
Nicky took the brush, and their fingertips brushed lightly, sending a hot lick of flame through them. She plopped herself in the chair he’d just vacated and started brushing her hair.
“Better hurry before it gets cold.”
I’m gonna need it cold.
He stripped quickly and got in the water. He washed with his own soap, trying not to remember that Nicky had just been naked in the same tub, lathering her beautiful body and hair and, most especially, those unexpectedly tempting breasts.
———
Nicky tried to concentrate on her hair, but found Tyler Calhoun pushing into her thoughts. She could smell his scent on his brush, wholly masculine and wholly Tyler. She wanted to turn and look at him. Wanted him. The realization of her own lustful thoughts hit her like a punch. She heard him stand and towel off. The impulse to turn around grew as big as a house until she couldn’t stand it any longer. She turned to peek at him.
He was pulling on his jeans and his hard muscled buttocks were visible, just sliding into his pants. The sight of his bare flesh was so titillating that Nicky had to resist the urge to ask him to turn around. The scars on his back from Hermano’s knife were pink against the bronzed skin. So many. Way too many. Hermano would hear an earful the next time he ran into Nicky. Tyler also had a large scar on the right side of his back that looked as if it had been there a long time. Muscles bulged, rippling as he reached down for his shirt. The white bandage on his arm almost glowed against his suntanned skin. Her throat went suddenly dry, her heart rate soared, and an ache settled between her legs. Her pussy was now throbbing and moist and her nipples were hard points against her shirt.
She quickly turned around before he saw her gawking. She tried to mentally slow her heart, but her hands were shaking as she finished brushing her hair.
Why do I feel this way only around Tyler?
“You can turn around.”
She stood and half-turned. He didn’t have his shirt buttoned and his massive chest was clearly visible. His chest was unbelievably wide, covered with that mat of black curly hair that her fingers itched to feel. The hair tapered down his belly until it disappeared into the waistband of his jeans. Her mind wondered how far down that hair actually went. Good Lord, she was a near wanton. In the darkened night, he had been a
ppealing and mysterious. In full light, he was magnificently male, and extremely potent. Her legs stubbornly refused to move.
“You’re not dressed,” she finally gasped.
And there was that smile again, with white teeth and knee-buckling force. He slowly began to button up his shirt. His pistols were already strapped to his thighs.
“I didn’t think a man’s bare chest would bother you. And you’ve already seen me without my shirt, Nicky. You took it off me, remember?”
“But it was dark. And I…ah…well, my brothers’ chests didn’t look like that.”
“Like what?”
He crossed the room in three long strides.
“Um…oh, I don’t know…hairy, I mean, they had hair, but not so much of it, and I don’t remember…their muscles…and… Is it warm in here?”
He took another step and was right in front of her. She was nose to chest with him. She could smell his spicy soap, could smell him. She inhaled slowly. It was a little heady.
He reached out and tilted her chin up with his thumb to meet his blue eyes. “You look like a girl when you’re all cleaned up, magpie.”
She felt her cheeks flush. Why did he turn her into such a blithering idiot? Ever so slowly, his callused thumb caressed her bottom lip. The air between them grew heavy, humming with unspoken passion.
She pursed her lips and kissed his thumb. A thousand skitters of desire went down her body and met at the juncture of her thighs. She looked deep into his eyes and saw his desire mirrored hers.
She watched as his mouth descended on hers slowly. When he was an inch away, she felt the hot gust of his breath, then he was kissing her. Her arms wound around his neck and he pulled her flush against him. His lips moved against hers back and forth until his tongue lapped at hers. She opened her mouth and his tongue plundered. Sweeping, dancing, tangling with hers. Her pussy ground into his hard, pulsing erection.
Nicky was losing control. She pulled away to take a breath and opened her eyes to look into the blue eyes of her captor.
Uh oh. Too dangerous, way too dangerous. His arms dropped to his side.
“Let’s go get some supper.” His voice was raw.
The Bounty Page 10
