Bodyguards Boxed Set

by Julianne MacLean

  Wade nodded, leaned back in his chair, and stroked his chin thoughtfully. From clear across the room, Jessica heard the sound of his rough fingers brushing over his whiskers. “I think I’ll ride out there myself and have a friendly word or two.” He stood and stretched, as if his shoulders were stiff.

  Dempsey grinned gamely. “You gonna arrest them, Sheriff?”

  “Not tonight. They’re not wanted for anything.”

  “But what about breaking Angus’s window?” Jessica suggested.

  He removed his hat and set it on the desk. “If I see the man who did it, I’ll fine him. I got a good look at him.”

  “Is that all you can do?” she asked.

  “For now. In the meantime, we’ll just have to wait for them to try something else.”

  Jessica sat forward. “Wait for it? You mean I’ll have to sit here in your office—like bait?”

  He cocked his head to one side. “Relax, darlin’. I’ll do my best to get them to leave town.” He stood up, placed his hat back on his head, and moved to the door with a swagger that made her want to jump his bones right then and there. “Dempsey, get Miss Delaney out of here. This is the first place they’ll look.”

  “Where should we go?” Dempsey asked.

  “Wait till the sun goes down, then take her to the boardinghouse, and ask for Wendy. Tell her I sent you, and that I need a favor. She’ll know what that means, and it’ll do till I get back.”

  Jessica stood up and followed Wade out the back door. “Wait a minute,” she said, but he was already mounting his horse. “Those men are dangerous. You’ll be careful?”

  He wheeled Thunder around and spoke with hardnosed confidence. “Relax, Junebug. If anything happens to me, Dempsey will take care of you.”

  That wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

  “Stop calling me Junebug,” she said.

  His eyes glimmered with amusement. “What would you like me to call you?”

  “Jessica.”

  Thunder stomped impatiently and tried to turn away, but Wade wheeled him back around.

  “Jessica…” he said. “That’s a right pretty name.”

  “Thank you.”

  He didn’t leave, however, and she could feel her body start to burn with desire as their eyes remained trained on each other.

  “If we’re getting cozy, maybe you should stop calling me Sheriff,” he suggested.

  She gave him a playful look. “What would you like me to call you?”

  He trotted closer until Thunder relaxed and snorted, then he leaned forward and crossed both wrists over the saddle horn. “Truman.”

  Jessica gazed up at those mesmerizing blue eyes while she stroked Thunder’s nose. “That’s a right pretty name.”

  “Not as pretty as yours.” He leaned back.

  A moment later, he galloped away, and Jessica stood in a besotted haze, listening to Thunder’s hoof beats until she couldn’t hear them anymore.

  No sense worrying, she tried to tell herself as she headed back inside. Truman was an expert gunman, and maybe he would come out of this unscathed, even if it turned into something serious.

  Better yet, maybe those dumb-ass outlaws would cower in fear and ride out of Dodge altogether.

  Sitting down at Truman’s desk, she glanced up at the bullet holes in the wall and hoped that tonight everyone’s bullets would stay locked inside their gun chambers—which was exactly where they belonged.

  Chapter Nine

  * * *

  JESSICA STOOD AT a window in Wendy’s boardinghouse, watching and waiting, while Wendy slept peacefully on the bed.

  “What do you think is taking so long?” she whispered to Dempsey, who sat in a chair reading a dime novel in front of the unlit fireplace.

  “Don’t rightly know, Miss Delaney.”

  “He said he’d be right back. Do you think anything could have gone wrong?”

  “Doubt it. The sheriff is a legend. I reckon he’ll be just fine.”

  Jessica recalled Wendy’s tale of how Truman had put a stop to the ruckus in the saloon that afternoon.

  Wendy seemed a bit smitten with him—just like everyone else in Dodge. They all seemed to regard him as the undisputed hero of the West.

  Jessica couldn’t deny feeling more than a little smitten herself. In fact, that particular word didn’t do justice to her passions—because she was ready to drag that crazy-hot sheriff right out of his saddle, rip off his shirt and gun belt, and take advantage of him in the worst possible way—in ways that would surely shock and scandalize the good old-fashioned folks of this city.

  Jessica, you incorrigible slut .

  She chuckled to herself, then paced for a while on the narrow strip of carpet.

  All was quiet outside except for the distant sound of music from the saloon down the street and occasional laughter from drunken cowboys. Jessica sat down in the rocking chair and continued to wait.

  Startled by the whinny of a horse, she rose and moved to the open window, praying that Truman had returned. She poked her head out.

  “Thank God,” she whispered, watching him dismount and tie Thunder to a hitching rail. “He’s back.”

  Dempsey closed his book.

  A few minutes later, Truman’s boots came tapping up the stairs. Jessica hurried out to meet him in the corridor.

  “What took you so long? I was worried.”

  “You didn’t have to wait up.” He passed her without so much as a hat tip or hello. He entered Wendy’s room, and Jessica followed him in.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” she replied. “There’s a gang of outlaws trying to kill me, remember?”

  His eyes met hers. “You were perfectly safe here. Dempsey knows how to use his six-shooter.” He removed his hat and coat and hung them both on the bedpost.

  Wendy stirred and sat up. “Sheriff, you’re back. What happened?”

  “They were just where you figured they’d be,” he said to her. “At the Triple T Ranch. We had a few polite words, and they promised to leave Dodge at sunrise.”

  Jessica inhaled a deep breath of relief, but didn’t feel completely off the hook yet. “What will we do until then?”

  He turned to Dempsey. “Why don’t you ride out there now and keep an eye on things? I want to make sure they leave town like they said they would.”

  Dempsey stood. “Will do, Sheriff.” He pulled out his gun, opened the chamber to check the bullets, clicked it shut, and re-holstered it.

  “Stay low,” Truman said. “Don’t let them catch you spying.”

  “I’ll be quiet like a mouse.”

  After Dempsey left, Truman locked the door and sat down in the chair. Wendy settled back into bed and closed her eyes again.

  “You’re going to stay?” Jessica asked him.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He picked up Dempsey’s dime-novel and examined the cover. “Heroes of the Wild West.” He chuckled quietly, then opened it to the first page.

  “But how are Wendy and I supposed to get any sleep?”

  “I don’t mind him being here,” Wendy added helpfully. “I can sleep through fireworks on the Fourth of July.”

  “I wish I had that talent.” Jessica glanced at Truman’s long muscled legs as he lounged back in the chair and felt another fiery stirring of attraction that she couldn’t possibly ignore. “I think maybe I’ll stay up for a while.”

  “Suit yourself.” Wendy pulled the blanket up over her shoulders. “You don’t mind if I...”

  “Not at all,” Jessica answered.

  For the next half hour, Jessica sat in the rocking chair without uttering a word while Truman read the dime-novel, then she finally tipped her head back and closed her eyes.

  She opened them, however, when Truman rose and stretched his arms over his head. While he stood with his back to her, she let her eyes roam appreciatively down the length of his finely sculpted body, from his broad shoulders down to the gun belt buckled around those beautiful hips, then farther south to his muscular backside ben
eath the worn black trousers.

  The sight of him in all his rugged, manly glory burned into her consciousness and robbed her of any hope of sleep. She simply couldn’t take her eyes off him.

  All at once, a rush of relief passed through her—relief that he had returned safely.

  When he turned around, she met his gaze.

  “I thought you’d be asleep,” he whispered.

  “I’m a little on edge.”

  For more reasons than one.

  “No need to be,” he replied. “You’re safe for tonight.” He strode to the window and looked out.

  “How can you be sure?” Jessica found herself trying to memorize every contour of his body in the moonlight, so that when she returned to her own time—if she ever returned—she would be able to recollect every detail.

  “Because I’m here,” he replied. “Besides, Dempsey would be back in a flash if the gang left the ranch.”

  “I suppose.” A cool evening breeze blew in through the open window, and Jessica closed her eyes, breathing in the distinct cow-scented aroma of the Kansas prairie.

  She tried to imagine lying in her own bed back home with her dog George at her feet and nothing to worry about but waking up the next morning to make coffee and come up with a new column idea.…

  “You married, Miss Delaney?”

  Her eyes flew open. “You’re supposed to call me Jessica,” she reminded him, not unconscious of the fact that it was the first time he had asked her anything personal without sounding like a prosecutor. “And no, I’m not. I was engaged once, though.”

  Leaning back against the windowsill, he crossed one booted ankle over the other and tucked a thumb into his belt. “What happened?”

  It wasn’t something she enjoyed talking about, because she was embarrassed to describe her stupidity, but for some reason, she wanted Truman to know. “I broke it off. I realized he wasn’t the kind of man I wanted to marry.”

  “What kind of man was he?”

  Coming up with the right words took a little thought. “He lacked integrity,” she said. “He was very self-absorbed and didn’t care if he stepped on people and crushed them while he tried to get ahead.”

  Jessica glanced down at her hands clasped together in her lap, remembering her decision to break off the engagement. It had been difficult back then to admit to herself, and everyone else, that she’d made a mistake by letting things go so far with Liam—that she hadn’t been able to see what kind of man he was beneath all the charm and success.

  To make matters worse, after they broke up, she learned that all her friends and family had seen it, but no one wanted to say anything. They all just kept waiting and hoping she would come around on her own. Which she did, thank God.

  Her self-confidence hadn’t recovered from it, however. When it came to men, she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to trust her judgment again.

  “Was he an outlaw?” Truman asked, and the question seemed almost comical.

  Jessica looked down and smiled. “No, he worked for a collections agency. He threatened businesses with lawsuits and usually pushed them into bankruptcy. The problem was, he enjoyed it too much. It was like a competition for him. Eventually I began to see that aspect of his personality in other things, too. Bringing someone else down made him feel good. Even if it was me.” She glanced up at Truman. “It was a mistake to fall in love with him. I still don’t know how I could have been so blind.”

  “You weren’t blind,” Truman said. “You had the sense to end it before you spoke your vows.”

  “I suppose. I just wish I’d discovered that sense sooner, instead of spending two years of my life believing he was the one.”

  Truman narrowed his eyes. “I’ll wager he was on his best behavior for at least the first full year. There was no way you could have seen what he was until he let down his guard, and that just took some time. You did the right thing in the end. That’s what counts.”

  Jessica nodded, because he was right. Liam was perfectly charming in the beginning. He was handsome and successful. Superficially speaking, he was any woman’s dream come true. She thought she’d won the lottery to be dating him, and her parents liked him—at first.

  Truman turned to look out the window. A dog barked somewhere far away.

  Jessica stood up to join him. “What about your wife?” she asked. “Where is she?”

  He continued to look out at the quiet street and spoke in a voice that betrayed almost no emotion. “She died a few years back.”

  “I’m very sorry to hear that.”

  He met her gaze with an intensity that nearly knocked her over. “I’ve been alone ever since.”

  A sudden rush of empathy, mixed equally with attraction, ignited within her. She wanted to touch him and pull him close, to tell him again how sorry she was. Then she would touch her lips to his and offer a very different sort of comfort.…

  She fought the urge, however, because she was unsure of so many things—like how long she would be stuck in this century. Kissing Truman Wade would be a very dangerous game to play.

  But Truman had different ideas, and she nearly lost her breath when he pushed a lock of her hair away from her face. Within seconds, his intentions became clear as he ran a thumb across her cheek, then slowly lowered his mouth to hers.

  The kiss was reserved at first, experimental, and she knew that if she wanted to stop it, she would have to do it now. But his mouth—so soft and delicious and warm upon hers—obliterated all her prudent thoughts. He was so impossibly gorgeous. She couldn’t resist the need to part her lips and let her tongue mingle wetly with his.

  A tiny moan escaped her, and she slid her hands up over the tops of his shoulders to the back of his neck, where she ran her fingers through the warm locks of his thick, dark hair. The lush heat of his mouth caused a flame of arousal deep in her core, and she trembled with impulsive desire.

  How long had it been since she’d been kissed like this? She couldn’t quite recall....

  His chest, tight and warm against her breasts, heaved in a steady rhythm; the buckle at his belt pressed against her belly.

  Wendy stirred, but Jessica was too overcome by her passions to even worry about that. Truman’s hands opened and closed over the fabric of her dress, stroked her back, and his inquisitive mouth explored the open warmth of hers. His breathing quickened. Jessica buried her hands deeper into the hair at his nape.

  It was all too wonderful, but foolish at the same time. Jessica wasn’t supposed to be here. She didn’t belong here. She didn’t want to become a permanent part of this place.

  “I don’t think this is a good idea,” she whispered in his ear as she dragged her mouth from his, and he kissed down the side of her neck.

  She didn’t want to stop, but there were a hundred reasons why she shouldn’t be kissing him.

  “You’re right,” he replied, laying more kisses across her shoulder. “I’m supposed to be protecting you.”

  Truth be told, that was the last thing on her mind.

  Truman held her close for another shuddering moment before he finally stepped back. “I told you I was a gentleman, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, and you are.”

  “This was my fault.”

  “No, it was mine,” she argued.

  And it was. She had wanted this. Desperately.

  Then why did she stop? Was it good sense or fear?

  “Get some sleep,” he said, moving to the corner of the bed to pull on his coat. “I’ll keep guard from the window in the hall.”

  “You don’t need to leave.”

  “Oh, yes I surely do.” He donned his hat and walked out.

  Jessica sucked in a quick breath and sank down onto the rocking chair. She tried to remember how she felt with Liam in the beginning when he’d first kissed her. It was exciting, but not quite like this. There had never been anything forbidden about Liam. He’d seemed perfect on the surface, and she had let herself tumble willingly into the courtship, only to find
out later that he was not what he seemed, that she’d made a terrible mistake.

  Hadn’t she learned anything from all that? If she had, what was she doing kissing a former bounty hunter who had killed six men?

  Chapter Ten

  * * *

  THE EARLY SUNLIGHT beamed into Wendy’s boarding house room and woke Jessica from her slumber. The first thing she saw was Truman sitting at the desk with his back to her, reading the morning paper.

  She watched him for a moment and wondered what they would say to each other after what happened last night. Would there be an unspoken intimacy between them now? Or would they pretend the kiss never happened?

  Jessica sat up on the bed and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands.

  “Morning,” Truman said without turning around.

  “Good morning. Where’s Wendy?”

  “She went downstairs to fetch some breakfast.”

  Jessica tried to gauge his mood. “Did you sleep at all?”

  “Not a wink.”

  She presumed, based on his aloof tone, that he wanted to forget about their smokin’ hot kiss, which was probably best.

  But hadn’t she already resigned herself to the fact that when it came to Truman Wade, she was an incorrigible slut? Maybe she should just hop into his lap, rip his clothes off, and be done with it.

  “I take it nothing went wrong, then?” she asked.

  “You take it right.”

  Oh… these nineteenth century manners. It was going to take some getting used to.

  She stretched her arms over her head and let out an operatic yawn. Truman gave her a strange look.

  “Sorry,” she said, dropping her arms to her sides. “Always was a loud yawner.”

  Just then, a knock sounded at the door. Truman stood up, moved to stand beside it, and cocked his weapon. “Who’s there?”

  “It’s Wendy, and Deputy Dempsey is with me.”

  Truman lowered his gun and let them in.

  Wendy brought in a tray of fragrant warm bread, eggs, sausages, and a pot of coffee. “I hope this will be enough for everyone.”