by Reece Butler
“She can’t abide the smell of coffee,” said Doc as he nodded his thanks for the refill. Twin spots of color appeared on his cheeks. “I’ve counseled many mothers to be over the years, but it’s different when it’s your own wife.”
“You’ll be a better doctor knowing what it’s like on the other side of the bed.” Doc chuckled as Sophie continued on. Since there wasn’t anyone else in the room, she stopped at each table to adjust a tin mug, or straighten the wooden stew spoons. She could feel Max’s temper rise as she studiously ignored him.
“Madam, would you be so kind as to provide coffee and the breakfast that I’m due?”
She looked up, pretending to be surprised to see him. She sashayed over, letting her hips sway more than a bit with each slow step. It was difficult after a lifetime of rushing to serve guests while hiding her womanliness. Growing up in her father’s hotel she’d purposely made herself less attractive to stop the wandering hands of guests. Amos’s death, and the threat of losing her business if the mayor and banker called her lewd, had made her hide her sex even more.
But no longer would she hide who she was. Attractive or not, she was an unmarried female. Having a business of her own, as well as an obvious ability to cook and clean, would make her a target. A man could pretend to care for her, seducing her with pretty words and presents. But once married, her husband would own her hotel, and her body. She was not her mother, needing a man to survive. She could enjoy herself. So she pretended she was one of Lily’s fallen women and Max was the wealthy customer she had her eye on. Though he tried to keep his face blank, he couldn’t hide his reaction to her.
His eyes were a deeper green than normal. They seemed to whisper that he wanted her body, though his stiff posture and stern expression said he didn’t want what came with it.
Sophie knew she was stubborn, argumentative, and determined. She had a business to run, and weakness would have allowed Rivers and Jennet to destroy her. If she was a man, she would be held in high esteem because of the qualities that damned her as a woman.
But she held the power this time. No matter that Max tried to pretend she meant nothing to him, last night his cock had pressed, hot and hard, against her belly. They both had wanted that cock to slide between her wet thighs. She gave Max a look that said she knew what he wanted, and would have given it to him. But now he’d thrown it away.
Max stood as she approached. He gave a curt bow. Someone had taught him manners. Pinkerton detectives were kept to a high standard of behavior, but she sensed Max’s standards came from himself, rather than the job. That was why it confused her that he would try to swindle her by eating twice.
“Thank you, Mrs. McLeod. So kind.” He held out his cup. Sarcasm dripped from his tongue.
She poured the dregs of the pot into his cup. There was only enough to fill it halfway. She shrugged as if she didn’t care one way or the other. It was not the way for a hotelkeeper to act, but the devil sitting on her shoulder snickered at his expression when Max lifted his cup and found it half-empty. He raised a haughty eyebrow.
“I’ll refill your coffee, Mr. Gibson, but you’re not getting another breakfast.”
“Another breakfast?”
“Were you sleepwalking when you ate earlier?” She put a finger on her chin, tilted her head, and batted her eyelashes for the first time ever. His eyes widened and his nostrils flared. “That must be it. It was still dark, so Billy lit a lamp. He said you smiled, and I know you’d never do that in public if you were awake.” She dropped the playacting but didn’t give him a chance to say whatever he opened his mouth to blast her with. “From now on I’ll supply three meals a day. Anything above that, you pay for out of your own pocket.”
He muttered something under his breath. He’d never been heard to swear, but perhaps she’d just driven him to it. Good! He reached in his pants pocket and pulled out a quarter.
“Will two bits cover my breakfast?”
She nodded and offered her palm, expecting him to drop the coin. But he took her wrist and held it while he set the quarter in her palm. Her heart fluttered, then pounded. He stared at her, his face expressionless. Two of his fingers touched the inside of her wrist where her pulse throbbed. Her face burned, right to her hairline. He never blinked, though she was sure he knew her heart raced. He used his other hand to wrap her fingers around the coin.
Fingers that had touched her intimately last night.
Her nipples peaked behind her crisp apron, and a heavy ache began between her legs. She tugged her hand free. He cleared his throat and turned away as if disassociating himself with her. Arousal turned to fury.
“Billy will bring you another plate.” She growled the words from between clenched teeth. She whirled away before she did something rash. Either she would hit him, or the heat rising from her belly would make her demand he touch more than her hand. Neither were appropriate.
“I’d rather you brought it.”
Her feet slowed. He might have phrased it as a request, but she heard the power behind the words. The deep command made her shiver. She held her back erect, refusing to turn around and let him see how he affected her.
“If you want food, you’ll take it from Billy.”
Only after the words left her mouth did she realize she’d suggested she could provide something more. Face radiating heat, she curled her fingers into fists and stomped back to the kitchen.
Chapter 4
Sophie set her feet gently on the second-floor hallway’s scuffed wood so as not to disturb her guest. The hotel was her business, and her life. But there was more to living than work and she was missing it.
All was quiet as she approached the back corner. These rooms were small. Located above the noisy kitchen, they were also less expensive. She’d agreed to set one aside so Max could come and go as he pleased, using the back stairs so no one would see him. Anyone but herself, that is. The stairs led to the kitchen, which was beside her private bedroom. The bedroom she’d only shared with Amos.
Her husband had been kind, thoughtful, and…uninspired. He’d treated her like spun sugar, as if she’d break if he used her with anything but the lightest touch. She wanted a man who would behave like a stallion galloping after a mare. No matter how hard she ran, she would not escape being captured and mounted by the leader of the herd. She could fight, but he’d hold her down, spread her legs, and penetrate her.
Sophie’s nipples rose as she imagined it. She rubbed wet thighs against swollen pussy lips.
She imagined the rampant stallion screaming his domination, thrusting deep inside his mare. He’d take hard so she’d know his strength. As the leader of the herd he’d keep her safe. Taking her like that, hard and long as she submitted to him, meant she belonged to him. Maybe he’d bite her shoulder when he exploded deep inside her.
She clenched her thighs at the thought of being mounted from behind like a stallion. Big hands would hold her hips, slamming her bottom back to meet his cock, demanding she give him everything. Taking whatever he wanted.
She wasn’t sure Max would do that. But, damn his eyes, no matter how he blew hot and cold, she wanted him. Why couldn’t he test her sheets, so to speak, to make sure her body worked the way it should? The Max that kissed her last night made her want to do wicked things with him.
Fanning her face at the heat of her arousal, she turned the corner and stopped. She knew that set of broad shoulders and that black suit. The tawny hair above confirmed it.
“You!” The words burst out before she could think.
Max’s impossibly green eyes trawled past her face and dropped. They lingered on her breasts, waist, and hips before slowly rising again. She saw such blatant, demanding sexuality that her knees grew weak. She stiffened them and glared a challenge.
“Don’t you look at me like that!”
“Why, Miz McLeod, as I live and breathe. I was just thinking of you.” A slow, seductive smile appeared.
Just like last night her nipples saluted, her pussy
purred, and she was suddenly as hot as if she’s spent the last three hours stirring a pot on the stove. He rested a broad shoulder against the doorjamb and looked her over again.
“You’re an attractive woman, Sophie. You should be used to men admiring you.”
Did he really want her, or was he toying with her as another in a long procession of eager women?
“You wouldn’t even smile at me this morning. How dare you then look at me like that!”
“Like what, sugar?”
She clenched her hands before she slapped him. “You’re looking at me like you want to throw me onto a bed and—” She snapped her mouth shut, suddenly realizing what she was saying.
“And what?” He scratched his chest, drawing attention to the tuft of golden hair gleaming in the lamplight from between his buttons.
He dared her with that sexual pose. The arrogance of his expression shouted that he knew far better than she how a man could pleasure a woman. His eyes roamed over her as if he was a tiger trying to decide what part of his helpless prey to devour first. He wanted her and, dang it, she was just as eager to jump him and haul him downstairs to her lair. She stepped closer. She had to tilt her head as he was eight inches taller than her five foot four.
“I have been in the hotel business all my life,” she said with a calmness she didn’t feel. “I’ve run this establishment on my own for the last seven years. I’ve seen all kinds of men, good and bad. Last night you wanted me. But this morning you glared as if you couldn’t stand to see me. I would like to know why.”
He sighed and shook his head, but his lusty expression didn’t change. His full lips smiled, revealing strong white teeth.
“I can explain about this morning.”
He reached out a hand and drifted his knuckles down her cheek. The light touch made her quiver. She held back from leaning into him. The brute noticed, and chuckled!
“Can we go to your room where we won’t be interrupted?” he asked. “I’d like to, ah, talk some more.” He winked. A sensuous smile showed a dimple on his left cheek.
She swallowed past a dry throat. Heat blazed up her chest to burn her ears. She was tempted. Lord, was she tempted. But they were standing outside his room. Why didn’t he suggest they use his bed?
A scraping noise, like a chair over a wood floor, came from beyond the door. Someone was in there, someone he wanted to hide. A woman?
Her stomach dropped along with her hopes. He’d snuck one of the whores from Baldy’s Saloon into her hotel. He’d used the trollop on one of her hotel beds, and now he pretended to want her the same!
Her arousal, and hopes, crashed. She gathered her courage around her like a shawl. She refused to be insulted without retaliation. She’d learned how to put men in their place when she was barely thirteen, and was now twice that age.
“You lowdown, snake-bellied…” Her voice rose with each word, for once uncaring of who heard. He lunged, hauling her across his chest. One hand covered her mouth and the other, an iron band, held her ribs, pressing her back against his chest. After a moment of shock, she exploded, fighting to escape.
“Shh. Dang it, Sophie!”
She increased her efforts, flailing her hands and feet back to attack him. The door opened. Maxwell Gibson stared back at her, scowling. She froze. The man she thought was Max carried her inside and set her down. She broke out of her bubble of shock and struggled. He let her go. She backed away. Max stared at her, standing beside…Max. She looked from one, to the other. Then it hit her. One man wanted her, the other didn’t. That’s why he ignored her, then kissed her wildly.
“I should have guessed. You’re twins. Identical.” She swallowed, then glared. “Two sets of meals, but you only paid for one.”
“We did twice the work, so should get twice the food,” said the smiling Max. “But we only took up one of your beds.”
“I’m Maxwell Gibson,” said the frowning one who’d opened the door. “This is my younger brother, Samuel.” He pointed to the rogue who’d wanted to take her to bed. The one who was again smiling and winking at her.
“Yep, I’m Sam.” He tapped his chest. “I’m the younger, better-looking twin.”
She snorted, half laugh and half insult. “How can you say that when you’re identical?”
Sam proved who he was by the dimple in his cheek. “We’re different in here.” He touched his heart and then his head. “There’s a few things different on the outside as well.”
He dropped his hand to his belt buckle, his meaning clear. She’d wondered if the swelling she’d seen last night was due to shadows. From what she saw in the lamp’s harsh light, it wasn’t. His smile deepened when she blushed.
“And I’m a much better kisser than Max. Want to test me some more?”
A tugging ache pulled at her pussy. She wanted another kiss from this man. Lord, how she wanted it. Now that she knew he hadn’t led her on and then shunned her, she wanted more. She licked her lips, thinking what it would be like to kiss deep, taking as long as they wanted. Sam stepped close and cupped his palms around her face. He tilted her face and brought his own down. A light brush of his lips and her body erupted in flames.
She grabbed his shirt and hauled him closer, opening her mouth in a silent demand. It only took him a second to respond. He gathered her tight and plunged his tongue into her mouth, taking over. This was what she’d craved! An ache throbbed deep inside, demanding that he use more than his tongue to invade her.
His warm body was wrenched away. Max, chest heaving almost as much as Sam’s, scowled at them. His glare accused her of leading his brother astray. She fought to breathe. Sam forced a chuckle.
“You jealous, big brother? I was just proving to Sophie that I’m the better kisser.”
Max swung his glare to Sam. “I haven’t kissed the lady, so one short kiss by you doesn’t prove anything.”
When Max looked back at Sophie, his anger was gone, or well hidden. His eyes travelled over her the same way Sam’s had, only she felt he was judging rather than appreciating. His gaze lingered on her breasts. She looked down. Her nipples pressed against her dress, making obvious bumps.
She glared at him, waiting for him to meet her eyes. When he did, she felt a blast, but was it heat or fury? In either case she was not going to be embarrassed for becoming aroused by a delicious kiss. She caught a flash of something, but his eyes shuttered so fast she couldn’t be sure. She dropped her gaze. He was aroused, all right, but could bank that fire when he chose.
“Our contact brought me a wire.” Max casually dismissed her, turning to face his brother. “We’ve got orders.” He looked at Sophie over his shoulder. She caught a flash of contempt. “Much as you might like my brother to entertain you, ma’am, we have work to do. If you would excuse us?”
“As you are aware, Mr. Gibson, I know a fair bit about Mr. Isaac and Smythe. I am one of those employing you to catch Mr. Isaac. I believe your information may be pertinent.”
She raised her chin in an extra dose of belligerence because Max was behaving like an ass. She’d met with Max and Lily a few times. He’d been polite and distant during the business meetings, as she expected. After all, they were hiring him to catch Isaac while helping him with his Pinkerton assignment. Lily had spies in many places. She knew secrets that, if they got into the wrong ears, would cause a few jaws to drop. Or more likely, would cause those in the know an untimely death.
Neither Sophie nor Lily planned to die anytime soon. They were intelligent persons who happened to have female bodies. The brains attached worked exceedingly well. Far better than most of the men in Montana Territory. However, they were not allowed a vote, and legally belonged to their fathers until married, then their husbands.
“I hadn’t realized you’re one of those repugnant men who judge a person’s abilities by whether they wear a dress or pants.” She said it right to Max’s face.
“Men and women have different roles,” he replied. “Yours is to stay at home to nurture and care f
or your husband on his return. Mine is to go out to protect and provide for my family, knowing my wife is safe in the home I provide.”
She gaped at him. “You’re married?”
“No, I am most definitely not! Men take action while women wait for their triumphant return. You will not be privy to these discussions as they are not for gentle ears.”
“Gentle ears?” She snorted a laugh. “I thought you said you did your research well.” She crossed her arms over her chest and slowly shook her head, tut-tutting like a nanny. He squirmed, wanting to know more, but she refused to continue.
“Explain yourself, woman!” he finally blurted out.
She thought she heard a chuckle, but it was quickly cut off. She looked down her nose at Max, though he was far taller.
“I grew up in a hotel, Mr. Gibson, hearing and seeing many things. I married Mr. McLeod to escape what some call a fate worse than death.” Her temper at the situation rose with each word. “I met with little Molly Sinclair and Sarah Unsworth when they were rescued from that hellhole in Bannack City.” She jabbed her finger at his chest. “How dare you suggest I cannot take action against a monster merely because I have nothing swinging between my legs!”
“Mrs. McLeod!”
“What? We both know you have a cock and I don’t. Unless you are unfamiliar with the parts of a woman? Shall I demonstrate?” She quickly flipped open her top four buttons.
“No!”
“Don’t stop her, Max,” drawled Sam. “I want to see the curves under that ugly dress.”
Sophie suddenly remembered where she was. In a bedroom with two handsome, single guests. Men who both exasperated and aroused her. She pushed her shoulders back, letting her dress open to the top of her bosom. She couldn’t remember being this aroused. Was it finally allowing her anger out? Or was it the way two pairs of identical green eyes stared at the tops of her breasts. Her heaving breasts, she realized, as she fought to breathe. Though the window was partly open, the room felt hot and close.
A brief warning touch of fingertips caressed her neck before they stroked over her collarbone and into the open flap of her dress. A delicate touch, designed to arouse and inflame. It was only a brush, quickly gone, but Sam’s brand lingered on her skin.
