"All right," he said. "Let me kiss you, the way I want and I'll leave the same way I came in."
A scowl pulled her mouth together. "Part of me thinks I'm getting the wrong end of the deal, but do it, so I can once again be alone."
Reaching out, his arms wrapped around her, pulling her almost in his lap. Wet and slippery, all he wanted was to take her right there in the bath house. Again, his pledge hindered what he wanted.
All he needed was just one taste. One taste of those ruby lips and then he would jump out of this heated tub and return to his cold water, where he would need to cool down.
The quiver of her sweet mouth beneath his own had his heart pounding and his blood sizzling, making his body hard as granite. Grasping her face, his hands encased her jaws, holding her mouth in place as his lips plundered hers. A moan escaped her throat, the sweet sound rushing a ripple of excitement through him.
Drawing her closer, the slide of her bare breast against his chest and that's when he knew. When John Henry ached with a need that made him realize he had to stop. Stop or break his promise.
Pushing her away from him, their lips broke contact and she stared at him glassy eyed, breathing hard, looking like a woman caught up in the throes of passion.
Though he didn't want to go, if he didn't leave right this moment, it wouldn't be good.
"I've got to go," he said more to himself than her. Rising, he stepped out on his good limb, grabbed his towel and hurried away while a certain hard part of him cried no.
As she watched his nude backside retreating, she stared in bewilderment. What had just happened? The intimacy of the situation left her feeling strangely excited. Trent was a handsome man and when he'd stepped into her tub, she'd been shocked.
But a strange warmness overtook her and when he kissed her, she hadn't wanted him to stop. No, this was not what polite women did, but then again, genteel women did not become bounty hunters.
And while in some respects, she longed for her old life of being the quiet, gentle woman who took care of the home, she had no choice, unless she wanted marriage to a man she didn't love.
Settling back against the rim, she realized that with Trent's departure, she missed his teasing nature, the feel of his lips caressing hers and the way her body responded, wanting more of him.
Yet, the man remained an outlaw. She felt certain the man in the poster and he were the same. That frightened her because she couldn't fall in love with him. Criminals were men with no regard for the law and she couldn't love a man who didn't believe in law and order.
Sighing, she knew the bath was ruined. The cooling water and lack of company, maybe it was time to get some rest. Grabbing her towel, she got out of the vat.
Chapter 8
Twenty minutes later, Trent's body had barely cooled down when he heard Caroline yelling at the maid.
"No, I am not putting this on. You go find something else for me. Even if it's nothing but a man's shirt and pants, because I refuse to wear this..."
Pulling on the trousers, they'd given him, he laughed at their ridiculous short length, but they fit. "What's wrong, Caroline."
"I'm not wearing this," she called.
The door opened and the woman said, "I'm sorry, but that's all we have. Normally, we don't have women clients."
Caroline cursed, and with a start, he realized the outfit had to be bad. The gentle woman never used those words in her soft Texas drawl.
"Get me in this dress, but I'm only wearing it to the hotel, and tomorrow, I'll be shopping for new clothes."
The sound of Caroline grunting and moaning resounded in the small room and his imagination ran wild and went places that only made him harder.
"Are you all right?" he called worried.
"No, I'm not all right. I've been squeezed into a contraption to make me look..."
Her voice faded and he couldn't wait any longer. Stepping around the screen, he stared at Caroline in a costume that pushed her breasts up spilling almost over the top, her waist was cinched tightly, accentuating her womanly curves and the short skirt showed off her slender legs.
There was only one place a woman wore a dress like this and now he knew his bumbling bounty hunter was a sexy saloon girl. All the cold water in this room couldn't make his overheated body cool down as his groin tightened and his breath almost stopped while looking at Caroline.
"You're hired," he said and stared into flashing eyes the color of Texas bluebonnets in spring.
If only she understood what she did to him, she would realize he wanted her in the worst possible way and that outfit left him harder than a rock.
"Don't tempt me to pull out my Colt, because frankly, I'm feeling a little irritated."
Though it was wrong, he couldn't restrain his grin. "As a saloon girl, you'd be my first choice." Striding to her side, he pulled her into his arms, knowing he was making a mistake. "The things we could do. Are you certain you don't want to take on that role for a night of pleasure?”
She shoved him away. "Don't forget, I'm not a one-night girl, I'm a forever after kind of woman. And I'm greedy. I want it all. The ring, the wedding, and more than anything, a man who loves me. So no, I'm not your good-time girl."
With a flounce, she turned and yanked open the door, her gun belt bouncing on the silk taffeta. The woman was walking trouble and he had to catch up to her.
"Caroline stop. Don't walk out of here without me."
Tears filled her eyes, her chest exploding with fear as she hurried out the door into the hallway of the bath house. That kiss in the bathtub shattered just about every barrier. Thank goodness he'd had the sense to leave when she was ready to say yes to whatever came next.
In fact, she wanted to throw caution to the wind and beg him to take her right there. There was an attraction between them that she was having a hard time saying no to.
This awful dress only reminded her why she became a bounty hunter. Why she needed to learn to be responsible for herself and an independent woman. Because, frankly, marriage frightened her.
Her mother didn't realize Caroline knew the truth. After an argument, her father left the family and died in a bar fight. Yes, he was a good man, but her parents had fought long and hard, her mother never satisfied. Yet her cousins all seemed so happily married. Which one was the truth and how did you know?
Yet her mother wanted to marry her off to a man - a stable man there in the community. The very idea of Levy touching her had her shuddering with revulsion.
Why did she not want to wed him, but for Trent she would gladly shed her clothes, eager for his touch? The man who kissed her like the devil, she still believed had a price on his head. And if he didn't stop tempting her, she was going to collect that bounty in more ways than one.
Without thinking, she walked out of the door of the bath house, her steps carrying her quickly toward the hotel. She needed to find a bed, rest, pull herself together and in the morning, she would take the time to purchase new clothing. This ridiculous, scantily clad outfit would be used to start a fire.
A man passed her on the wooden sidewalk, his gaze traveling the length of her body and a shiver scurried up her spine.
"Hey, pretty girl. Want some company?"
"No," she said, glaring at him like she was a demon and kept walking. The cowboy fell in step behind her. What was it with men? Why couldn't they recognize when to back off? Right now, she was on the edge emotionally and ready for a fight.
He grabbed her by the arm and whirled her around to face him. "Stop. Let me go."
"Honey, I'm just here to give you what you're obviously needing," he said, ignoring her commands and yanking her to him.
Reaching for her Colt, the man knocked the weapon from her hand as terror clutched her chest. When she opened her lips to scream, he slammed his hand over her mouth, the smell almost gagging her.
"Sweetheart, you're going to have such a good time. Stop fighting me, unless that's the way you like it."
Hauling her into the al
ley, she frantically tried to get loose, punching and kicking as he dragged her.
This was her biggest fear. Not being able to fight off a man, a criminal, or anyone she needed to arrest. While she feared she was about to live out her nightmare, all she could think about was Trent.
With a quick turn, she kneed the man in the groin and he slapped her in the face. His hand slipped from her mouth and she screamed as loud as her lungs would allow.
"Let her go," Trent demanded, his voice eased the knot of tension in her stomach.
"Go away. Find your own woman," he said.
"That's my woman you're hurting. Don't make me kill you," he said softly, but with enough force behind his words to inform the man he meant business. The bully yanked her behind him. She wanted to run to Trent, but her legs felt frozen as the two men squared off.
"Funny, you don't seem to be taking good care of her. As my woman, she wouldn't be out walking alone."
The man's hand edged toward his gun and panic seized Caroline, freezing her, making her move in slow motion. In horror, she watched as the man yanked his weapon out of his holster. Trent moved fast as lightning, pulling his own gun and shooting the man in the hand, causing him to drop the six-shooter.
Before he could react, she kicked the gun out of reach.
"Now, if you want to live, you'll haul your ass over to the doctor and have that wound looked at. Remember this, you're lucky to be alive. I could have aimed for the heart, but sometimes a beautiful woman can blind a man. Come near her again and the next time, my aim will be on target. You won't live to see another day."
Gripping his wrist, the man glanced back at her and then keeping his eyes on Trent, he scooted away and soon they heard his boots on the wooden sidewalk.
Her legs buckled beneath her shaking so hard, she couldn't stand.
Trent ran to her and lifted her in his arms, his leg wobbling. All the panic seized inside her had her trembling, her heart racing in her chest and her head spinning.
"Woman, every day you take ten years off my life, making me wonder how you've lived this long. In this dress, don't you step more than a foot away from me, do you understand?”
There was nothing to worry about as she shivered in his arms, never wanting to leave his side. What if he hadn't followed her? How had a man who didn't know how to shoot a weapon drawn so fast?
Twice now Trent saved her from either certain death or a terrible misfortune. Both times his gunning abilities were the reason she wasn't six feet under. That draw just confirmed he was the outlaw she sought and yet she didn't care. At this moment, he was her outlaw.
"Come on," he said. "Let's try to get to the hotel, without any more problems."
Tears ran down her face and she reached up and caressed his cheek with her fingers. "Thank you."
Dropping her legs, her feet touched the ground. "You're welcome. Now, let's find a room."
Trent was shocked when they arrived at the hotel and she told the desk clerk one room. Only then did he realize how much the event frightened her. Sometimes when she wielded her gun, her hand shook. Still, she fought to bring criminals to justice, but he had been with her for her first two arrests. How would she do alone?
After tonight's scare, hopefully she realized she couldn't continue on without him. Eventually, he had stories to write and tell. In fact, he wanted his own separate room, so he could write the night away. But she seemed panicky and he needed to calm her.
Going up the stairs, when they reached the door, she turned to him.
"I'm sorry. Maybe we should have taken two rooms. It was just..."
"It's okay. This has been a tough night and we're both exhausted. We'll roll the blanket up between us and we'll both be asleep by the time our heads hit the pillow."
He was lying and he knew it, but he couldn't touch her or all the promises he'd made would fly right out the window. Crawling into that tub with her had been a mistake. One that, while he didn't regret, left him harder than granite and aching with need for this woman. Why Caroline?
Because she was oddly fierce and yet soft and vulnerable - a strange combination he found fascinating.
Putting the key in the door, he swung it open and she stepped through. "If you hadn't been there, that man would have raped me."
"Honey, he thought you were an easy woman. A saloon girl."
"I said no. That should be enough," she said, her hands shaking as they set their saddle bags down.
And she was right, and though it was hard for women to understand, sexual need drove so many men. Just like himself.
Being naked with Caroline, only his promise kept things from ending differently tonight. Now some randy cowboy had unnerved her. While she needed his comfort, it would be hard, damned near impossible not to finish what they started in the bath.
"Men mistakenly believe women think like they do. In our stupidity, we believe you girls can't wait for us to take you. We're the best and you're going to love it."
Staring at him open mouthed like she couldn't believe what she was hearing. The woman obviously didn't have a lot of men in her life. Yes, he was exaggerating, but he wanted her to learn the truth about how some men thought.
"Oh, so, I should be grateful you're going to put your tallywhacker in me, possibly leaving me expecting a child. While you're off somewhere doing whatever you men do."
Grinning, he walked over to her. "Doesn't sound very romantic, does it."
"No," she said. "Not something I really want to do. Though the kisses you were giving me in the tub, those were nice."
Laughing, he put distance between the two of them. If they were going to share the room, he needed space and he didn't want to think about those kisses. They had almost been his undoing.
"Yeah, well, unless you want me to do what that man attempted, then I don't recommend we kiss again."
"You wouldn't be that mean."
"Of course not," he said.
Turning her back, she walked away and he could see she was nervous as she paced the floor.
"Caroline, he's not coming back. He's probably drinking whiskey trying to keep the pain at bay, nursing his wounds."
Biting her lip, he could tell she was skittish. Between that dress and the bath, he had to get away for a little time or she would find herself on her back. "I'm going to step outside and I'll be back in a few minutes."
"Okay," she said.
Walking out the door, he eased his way into the reception area of where they stayed and sank into one of the chairs pulling out his notes. Quickly he copied his thoughts from the day. From before the skunk attack until right after the near rape scene.
The last incident felt personal and he wasn't certain he wanted to use that scene. Not only did it not seem funny, but Caroline had certainly been shaken by the ordeal.
In the dark, it was hard to see the man creeping in the alley, but something about him seemed familiar. The sooner they left this town the better because he didn't need to run into any of his old outlaw acquaintances.
Closing his notebook, he rose, knowing he should return. The idea of lying beside her in the same curled bed, tied his insides into a knot of need that would be like sleeping with a cobra. One misstep and he was afraid he would lose control and that's not what she needed.
Rising, he went back to the room and slowly opened the door. She sat up in bed, grabbing for her weapon.
"Only me," he said, realizing the extent to which she'd been spooked.
"Good," she said lying back.
Sitting on the side of the bed, he slowly removed his boots and shucked his pants and shirt. If this became too painful, he would need to sleep in the chair or go back to the main lobby of the hotel. Sliding into bed, he lay in his long johns, hoping sleep came quickly.
A blanket rolled up between them.
"Are you okay," he asked.
"Fine," she said. "How does a woman stop a man from taking advantage of her?"
He lay in the darkness thinking this was not what he wanted
to discuss. What could he tell her? "Sometimes there's nothing you can do. A gun is handy, but men are stronger than women. Are you sure you want to be a bounty hunter?"
"Ruby made it look so simple. This is hard work and dangerous. Not exactly the kind of life I'm suited for."
"Maybe you should consider quitting and going home. Take up cooking or sewing."
There was silence and for a moment, he thought she might give up chasing bounties.
Finally, she responded. "My cooking will kill you faster than a bullet."
Not prepared for that response, he spewed laughter.
Reaching over he grabbed her hand. "Instead of trying to shoot the men you're hunting, offer them a free meal."
A giggle sounded from her side of the bed and he squeezed her hand.
"Shame there's a price on your head. We have fun together."
"Are we back to that?"
"Never said it went away. Goodnight, Trent," she said, softly rolling over and removing her hand from his.
After everything that happened today, he wanted to curl around her, but she had effectively shut him out when she admitted she still believed he had a price on his head. And he did.
Chapter 9
The next morning, Caroline awoke and knew Trent was not in the room. Glancing around, she rose, her legs tender and sore from fighting off her attacker. Her arms bruised and battered.
Keeping the blanket wrapped around her nude body, she walked stiffly about the room. No pantaloons went with that whore outfit as obviously any woman wearing that dress didn't need them.
She looked around the room and gazed out the window, hoping to see Trent. Finally, she turned and came back to the table where she found a note.
I've gone to the dressmaker to see if she has anything you can wear. Don't leave the room without me.
Well, that was certainly a demanding note. Yet, she wasn't going anywhere in that terrible dress. Going to her saddle bags, she pulled out her knitting and began to nervously sit and work the stitches.
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