Her Forbidden Gunslinger

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Her Forbidden Gunslinger Page 2

by Harper St. George


  “We meet again today, Monsieur Gray.”

  When he merely took up the reins and clicked a command for the horse to start, she glanced over at him.

  “Thank you for taking me home. I’m already feeling much better.”

  He gave a curt nod and they rode onward in silence.

  Sophie sighed and bemoaned her lack of experience in such matters. If he did find her attractive he certainly hid it well. She’d thought that moment in the hall meant that maybe he did. But what had she expected? No man looked at her as anything other than LaSalle property. She never even danced with anyone except Jean or Anton and the occasional business associate approved by her uncle. Her only chaperones were the gunmen in Jean’s inner circle. Who would dare threaten her virtue?

  “Do you want to marry him?”

  The question was asked so softly, Sophie wondered if she had heard him correctly. A small fluttering of nerves began deep in her belly. She wanted to be honest, to rekindle that spark of closeness from the hallway, but she had learned to not trust easily. She hedged. “I do want children. I’ve always seen myself married.”

  “But to Beaudin?”

  She closed her eyes, intending to conjure an image of the hated man, but instead she saw Gray holding her in an embrace that only a husband should. “I don’t know.” But she did know. Gray would fill that role perfectly.

  They turned onto Last Ditch Gulch and meandered slowly along the main street. Gray’s expression was in shadow but the occasional streetlamp allowed her to ascertain that he was thoughtful. They rode in silence, the only sounds the steady clip-clop of the horse and the occasional drunken laughter in the distance. The two-story shops loomed dark on either side of them. She watched him from her peripheral vision, taking in the gun holstered at his side and the leather thong that tied it to his thigh. The mark of his profession.

  “I meant what I said earlier.” he said. “You deserve a man, not that snake.”

  The words were almost angry and inexplicably made her smile. Maybe the chemistry she thought she’d imagined had been real. He was attracted to her. The knowledge gave her senses permission to acknowledge his closeness in a way they never had before. She could feel him at her side even though over a dozen inches separated them. That space between them became charged with his energy. It rippled along the length of her thigh and up her side.

  “You seem very much a man, Monsieur Gray.” The thought escaped before she had a chance to hold it back.

  She heard his quick, indrawn breath and closed her eyes. Sometimes her recklessness ran away with her.

  “Some would say only half a man.” The words quietly filled the silence, reminding her of just one of the reasons she was supposed to keep away from him. He was a half-breed.

  The words shocked her and her hand rested on his arm before she could stop herself. “I don’t think that, Gray. I’m sorry if I said anything…” She saw his half-smile then and wondered if he had been testing her. “Sometimes I say outrageous things when I’m nervous.”

  The muscles of his forearm flexed under her palm. “Why are you nervous?” His gaze pinned her, making the fluttering in her belly begin in earnest.

  Sophie hastily removed her hand back to her lap. “I-I don’t know.” The question held a dangerous undertone and she wasn’t entirely sure she should encourage it.

  His gaze touched her face before turning back to the road. When he did, she let out a breath she hadn’t even been aware of holding. Maybe it was best to leave things unspoken.

  They turned left and drove the remaining three blocks in silence before pulling to a stop in front of the imposing three-story brick and stone mansion. She tried not to notice the warmth of his hand this time as he helped her down.

  He walked slightly behind her as they ascended the front steps. Brand met them on the porch and seemed puzzled but only offered a greeting as he opened the front door for them.

  Sophie smiled but kept silent as she walked inside and then up the elegantly curved mahogany staircase. Gray followed. The muffled sound of his boots on the stairs let her know he shadowed her. But it was the prickling of the skin along her back that told her how close he was. Something delicious and wicked flickered to life within her and settled low, just below her stomach.

  She’d never felt excitement like it before and it made her hesitate a moment at her bedroom door. Even though Sinclair had entered the room many times at the end of the evening to collect her jewelry, it seemed taboo for Gray to go inside. She felt she should tell him to wait in the hallway, but as soon as she had the thought, she knew she wouldn’t. She took a deep breath and opened the door to see Anne, her maid, jump up in surprise. Whether it was alarm from Sophie’s early arrival or consternation at the tall figure that followed her inside, she didn’t know.

  “Thank you, Anne, but I can manage tonight. Go to bed.” Sophie heard the words coming from her mouth but had no idea why she was dismissing the only person who might help her keep a grip on the sanity she felt slipping away. Because she wanted to be alone with Gray, and that was something that should not happen.

  The girl seemed hesitant but intimidated enough by Gray’s presence that she merely nodded and left. Sophie opened her mouth to apologize for her maid and explain she was new but realized he would know that. Jean only allowed her to keep a maid for about six months before finding some reason to dismiss her or move her to other duties. Yet another way of keeping Sophie isolated.

  Gray didn’t seem to notice, though, as he walked into her room and stood looking around. The intensity of his gaze made her blush. It was silly, but it seemed so intimate to have this rugged man in her private sanctum. The only place that was hers.

  When his gaze settled on the blue satin counterpane across the bed, she quickly moved to her dresser. His presence was making her heart pound too fast. She needed him to go. She placed her sapphire earbobs on the polished surface and reached for the clasp of her necklace, but her fingers trembled too badly to get it open.

  “Let me help.” Gray’s voice moved over her like rough velvet, causing her intimate muscles to tighten curiously.

  Sophie’s wide-eyed gaze met his in the mirror as he came up behind her. A full head and neck taller than her petite frame, his deep stare held hers briefly before he looked down to the clasp. Sophie barely had time to recover from the intensity of that look before his fingertips touched the sensitive flesh of her nape. The contact sent thrills of excitement through her and made her clench her teeth to keep from visibly reacting.

  The clasp opened and the long, heavy strand of sapphires and diamonds tugged across her neck and shoulder in a slow caress as it came away in his hands. It landed softly on the dresser and then his hand was on her shoulder. Her shocked gaze came up to find his in the mirror but it wasn’t there. He was watching his hand move slowly down the smooth skin of her arm. She looked, too, and became immediately fascinated by the contrast of his bronzed hand against her pale skin. She watched its leisurely progress until it covered her own hand, leaving her flesh tingling in its wake.

  Sophie wasn’t sure who initiated the movement, but suddenly she found her back pressed lightly against the solid strength of his chest. His other arm crossed over in front of her and she realized she was in the loose cage of his embrace, where she wanted to be. She watched his graceful fingers as they efficiently divested her of her bracelet and placed it with the necklace on the dresser.

  His body tensed as if to move, and she realized how badly she wanted him to stay. Nothing could happen, but she didn’t want the moment to end.

  “My hairpins, too. They’re made of diamonds.”

  Her gaze flicked to his in the mirror and she saw something there, something hot and smoldering. She welcomed its implication. Gray inhaled deeply as his hands released her wrist and moved to her hair. Sophie closed her eyes and savored his touch as one by one the pins dropped to the dresser with a click. Her hair fell around her shoulders and he might have stroked it once. The moveme
nt was so butterfly soft she couldn’t be sure, but the sensation reverberated within her a hundred times over.

  If only things were different.

  The sixth and last pin dropped to the dresser and Sophie reluctantly forced herself back to earth. But when she turned to thank him for his help, Gray’s hands rested heavily on the dresser on either side of her and he didn’t step back. She looked up but her gaze never made it past his perfect bow lips. She wanted to kiss them. To just once feel them on hers.

  In her room, shielded from the rest of the world by the breadth of his body, it seemed like one kiss was possible. And before she could stop herself, Sophie leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. They were warm and after a moment’s hesitation, she felt them soften and part beneath hers. Then she tried something she had no idea she knew how to do; she touched that perfect bottom lip with the tip of her tongue.

  Gray groaned softly. She fairly purred at the sound and her hands moved up his arms to his shoulders. His hands closed on her hips and pulled her against him causing her to gasp at the contact of her front to his. He pressed the advantage and the tip of his tongue gently pushed inside to brush hers. The foreign sensation of him, hot and moist in her mouth made her blood thicken and pool deep in that newly awakened part of her. He must have known, because his hands moved down below the bustle of her dress to cup her bottom where it met her thighs and pull her tight against him. Something hard pressed against her stomach.

  It should have frightened her; she thought she knew what it was. But she didn’t want an inch of space between them, so her arms circled his shoulders and she pulled herself closer. His fingers tightened as a low and primitive sound came from his throat. And suddenly the kiss became something she never expected. It became the conversation that always existed hovering between them but could never be expressed in words.

  It was hungry and unrestrained and so much more intimate than she had ever thought a kiss could be. And, all too soon, even that wasn’t enough. Gray moved her back until she felt the press of the dresser against her thighs and she knew what he wanted. Closer. Her hands blindly pushed the jewelry to the side, and he lifted her so she sat on the edge of the dresser, her thighs pushed apart so that he could settle between them.

  He kissed her again before his fingers tangled in her hair to pull her head back. She was reluctant to lose his mouth until it began blazing a path of open-mouthed kisses down her neck. Then he settled on the swells of her breasts and breathed in deeply, inhaling her scent.

  “Gray,” she whispered and curled her fingers around the warmth of his neck.

  It was all the encouragement he needed. He tugged on the silk of her bodice and the cool night air touched a breast, only to be replaced by the wet heat of his mouth. Sophie gasped and held him to her as odd pulses of pleasure shot to her groin when he suckled her. She gave herself up to the decadence of his mouth feasting on her and dropped her head back against the cool mirror, eyes heavy-lidded with passion. It probably would have taken her a lot longer to notice it, except he paused and pulled back enough to drink in the sight of her exposed to him. The pause made her open her eyes and that’s when she saw the door.

  It was still open.

  His mouth settled on her again and suddenly she realized the picture they would present if someone should happen by. A small part of her wondered if the pleasure might be worth the inevitable punishment, but no. There was no telling what Jean would do to Gray.

  “Gray.” It was a whisper, too soft to dispel his passion. Then more urgently. “Gray! The door is open. Mon Dieu, the door!”

  Shit!

  Gray pushed away from Sophie with such force he propelled himself backward several feet and made the dresser wobble precariously. What the hell had happened to him? He’d only meant to help her with her jewelry but her warmth, her scent, the sweet innocence in her eyes had been his undoing. And when she’d pressed her lips to his, he’d told himself one kiss wouldn’t hurt anything. He’d never meant for it to go further, never meant to put his mouth on her body. If anyone had seen them—he didn’t even want to think of that. Even now, chest heaving from lack of air and an excess of adrenaline, he couldn’t tear his eyes from the sight of her nipple, pink and glistening from his attention.

  Thankfully, she became aware because she had the good grace to blush and pull up her gown. Then, more slowly, she pushed forward until she dropped down to stand on the thick carpet. Gray would have helped her but his hands shook and he wasn’t entirely sure what he would do if he touched her again.

  “Why did you do that?” His voice was harsher than he intended.

  She bit her bottom lip, clearly as confused as he was. “I…I’m sorry. I wanted to kiss you. I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time.”

  Gray might have laughed. Even he wasn’t sure what the harsh exhalation of air meant. She surprised him. But it wasn’t a subject he was willing to discuss. She was off limits and the sooner he put distance between them the better. The longer he stayed in her room, the more his good sense deserted him.

  “Is that all the jewelry?” He took a step toward the pile on the dresser but waited for her to move out of the way before he approached it, still unable to trust himself with her.

  “Yes.”

  Gray picked up the sapphires and diamonds and suddenly hated himself for having to take them away from her. He paused and looked at the pile in his hands. They must be worth a small fortune. Then he noticed her dresser held only a few bottles of perfume, a pot of skin cream and assorted cosmetics. It was devoid of the jewelry box he expected.

  “He doesn’t let you keep any jewelry at all, does he?” Though he had on other occasions seen Sinclair escort Sophie to her room and return moments later with her jewelry in hand, Gray had managed to convince himself it was family heirloom jewelry or some such.

  When she didn’t answer he pinned her with his gaze. “No,” she ground out.

  “Why?”

  No answer.

  “You don’t want to marry that bastard, do you?”

  She reluctantly shook her head and there was a suspicious sheen in her eyes.

  Gray noticed it and detested the twin spasms of pain and anger that shot through his heart. “Dammit!” He didn’t want to care. He didn’t want to want her. He left her there before he could descend any further into madness.

  Chapter Three

  The days passed in slow agony for Sophie. A politician or corporate figure graced their table almost every night and she was forced to play hostess while Jean bribed his way to lower taxes or cheaper timber. Everything was a game with him as he looked for ways to turn his copper into gold. She had no choice but to don the facade she had become so adept at wearing and be a pretty fixture at the table.

  It was a facade that had taken her many years and many punishments to cultivate. She’d been ten when her parents had died in the mine explosion. It had been a Sunday and Jean had invited them to go see the progress being made. No one was supposed to be working. But the dynamite had exploded anyway, leaving Jean unscathed. Three years passed before it even occurred to her that he might have had a hand in the accident. She only thought it then because she’d overheard him arguing with Alexandre, who was fifteen by then and too hotheaded to keep his opinions to himself.

  The memory of how badly he’d been beaten still caused her to shudder. She’d begged him to leave and so he had, with a promise to come back for her. But ever since then she’d had trouble hiding her own suspicions and continuing to be the biddable niece. Her resentment was clear in every word, every action, and it hadn’t taken long for Jean to grow weary of it. She’d felt the wrath of his cane across her legs and back more times than she cared to remember.

  Finally, she’d learned to control those rebellious impulses. As long as she played the role he wanted, nothing bad happened. Occasionally she’d still push too far and be struck for it or locked in her room, but nothing like before. It was livable. But with Anton she’d have to learn all
over again. And what would be demanded of her would be so much more than she could give.

  Whenever she thought of those demands, she thought of Gray. Often she would catch glimpses of him from her bedroom window and blush as she recalled their kiss. Even the memory of it had the power to awaken her senses. She’d thought about asking him to take her to Chicago, but something stayed the impulse. Maybe it was pride, maybe it was the realization that her feelings for him were childish and silly and he almost certainly didn’t return them. Or maybe it was simply that he might refuse and tell Jean. Trust was something she’d learned never to give easily.

  So she stowed those feelings deep within her, alongside the future she had imagined for herself as a child on her family’s ranch. The plot of land she’d hoped to carve out on the far corner where she would marry and raise her children. The way that Gray would fit so well within that fantasy. And so instead she worked on devising an escape plan, while waiting for her uncle to leave on one of his many trips to his mines.

  Escape was the only way to save herself. She’d run to her brother in Chicago, but she needed funds to do that.

  On an evening exactly two weeks after the kiss, Sophie found herself awkwardly arched over a green felt-topped billiard table in the back of one of the less-respectable gaming halls in town. A bead of nervous sweat rolled down her back causing an itch between her shoulder blades that was destined to go unattended to. For the first time that night her scheme seemed like a bad idea. In the space of minutes, the mood of the crowd that had gathered to watch the spectacle had gone from revelry to something darker.

 

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