“Good to know. Wouldn’t mind stopping by again tomorrow.”
“Any time, Doc.” Lucas’s aching fingers curled into a fist. “Though Antoinette seems to think it’s a good idea to keep us two apart as much as possible.”
“Can’t imagine why,” Holt said, his gaze fastening on Lucas’s.
“Can’t imagine,” Lucas retorted, putting his glass down on the bar a bit harder than necessary.
“Gentlemen.” Fairfax came between them, perhaps fearing more damage to his saloon. He plunked down a bottle of expensive whiskey and a box of cigars in front of Lucas. “On the house, Marshal.”
O’Donnell gave Fairfax a wounded look before shifting his attention to Lucas. “I knew this Brit partner of mine was hiding another bottle of O’Neil somewhere. What do you say, Marshal?” He whipped out a deck of cards from the pocket of his vest, fanning them out and folding them up in a nimble, one-handed maneuver. “How about we break open that bottle of lovely liquid gold, play poker ’til dawn, and sing a few Irish ballads? I know every verse to ‘Oh, Danny Boy.’ ” He winked. “Including a few my da taught me that my ma never knew about, God rest their souls.”
Lucas shook his head, one corner of his mouth curving upward. “No thanks.” The scent of cigars was tempting, and he hadn’t tasted five-dollars-a-glass whiskey in years. But he wasn’t here to play games. Or make friends. He needed to get back to his prisoner. “Can’t stick around.”
“Marshal.” Fairfax nudged the gifts toward him. “We are in desperate need of a man of your skills in Eminence, and the town council’s offer of a job stands. After tonight, I’m certain I could persuade Hazelgreen and Gottfried to vote for a larger salary. You’re worth eighty a week, ninety—”
“Sorry, Fairfax. Not interested. This was a one-time-only exception. And there’s no charge.” Lucas handed back his empty glass, and waved away the bottle and the cigars. “Sorry about the hole in the wall,” he said as he turned to leave. “Oh, and there’s a few pieces of iron out by your hitching post you might want to gather up before morning. Might scare customers away.” He headed toward the swinging doors. “Good night, gents.”
“McKenna?”
It was Holt’s voice. Lucas swung around, bracing himself to be grilled further about Antoinette. “Yeah?”
The doctor nodded toward the table where he had been pinned. “Thanks.”
Holt said it with genuine gratitude... even though it looked like he was saying it through clenched teeth.
Lucas arched one eyebrow. This night had been full of surprises. “Forget it, Doc. Believe it or not,” he said as he pushed open one of the swinging doors, “you’re not the only one in the business of saving lives.”
~ ~ ~
The fire still burned brightly on Annie’s hearth when she heard the hotel’s front door open. She sat up straighter on the bed, her bandaged ribs throbbing at the sudden movement, her heart skipping a beat.
Then she heard those familiar footsteps. And Lucas’s voice.
And she released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. As she sank back against the pillows, wincing at the pain, she frowned. The feeling rushing through her was not relief, she told herself adamantly.
Lucas McKenna was her jailer. A man who wanted her sent to prison for the rest of her life. A man who hated her. All the awful things he’d said to her tonight had made that abundantly clear. He considered her a whore and a heartless murderer, and he would never forgive her for either one.
She didn’t care what he thought of her. And she didn’t care what happened to him.
Never mind that when she’d heard gunfire coming from the direction of Fairfax’s saloon, the sound had almost made her heart stop.
Her frown deepened. It was the townsfolk she’d been concerned about. And Daniel. Valentina had explained to Annie and Travis about the drifters, and how the doctor had tried to save her. Then Valentina’s friend Lily Breckenridge had related a few more details when she arrived a while later—though the introductions had been awkward through the cell door, with Annie sitting there handcuffed to the bed, wrapped only in a blanket.
When Lucas had left in such a hurry, she hadn’t had the chance to put on any clothes. He had just scooped her up, blanket and all, put her on the bed, and handcuffed her before he rushed out, ordering Travis to stay behind with her.
At the moment, she could hear him talking to Travis, who sounded like he was falling all over himself thanking Lucas. Valentina and her friend had already left. After a few minutes, Lucas apparently managed to extricate himself from the boy and escort him out the hotel’s front door. Which he closed firmly.
Annie heard a weary sigh as Lucas walked toward their suite. A moment later, he appeared in the sitting room, carrying a lantern.
She could make out blood on his shoulder, on his clothes. And a dark bruise on his jaw. “Are you all right?” she gasped, the question spilling out before she even finished the thought.
“Fit as a fiddle,” he said sarcastically as he unlocked her door and came inside.
He didn’t look fit. He looked terrible, bruised and bleeding, his shirt ripped, his trousers covered with dirt and splatters of mud. “I-I heard gunshots.”
He set the lantern on a table. “Were you worried about me, Antoinette?” he asked dubiously, arching one black brow.
“No.” She scowled at him. “I was... “ She couldn’t figure out what she was feeling. “I was worried about Valentina.”
“The gunshots came after Valentina was already over here, safe.” He observed her with a curious expression. “And if I had gotten myself killed tonight, you’d be free right now. Don’t tell me you didn’t think of that.”
Annie stared at him, blinking in surprise. Though he would never believe it, she hadn’t thought of that. It hadn’t crossed her mind for a second. She hadn’t been thinking about herself, or escape.
The truth was, from the moment he ran out of this hotel with his gun drawn until the moment he came back just now, she’d had only one thought.
Him.
An unsettling sensation fluttered through her as she admitted that to herself.
He walked toward her, digging the key to the handcuffs out of his pocket, and she glanced away. “Valentina told me what you did,” she said quietly, “how you saved her from that brute who was going to...” She looked up at him. “It was good of you to help when they needed you.”
He shrugged his uninjured shoulder. “No more than any lawman would’ve done.”
He was being modest again. As he leaned down to unfasten the manacles, she studied his bruised, rugged profile. Lucas had to be the most confusing man she’d ever met. He was famous in the West, practically a legend, yet he was never arrogant about his reputation or his skills.
He was a loner, yet he stood ready to help when someone needed him.
Even her. He had even helped her tonight when he didn’t have to.
It didn’t make sense. He didn’t make sense.
But she realized that what the newspapers and penny dreadfuls reported about him was true, at least part of it: Marshal Lucas McKenna really was a hero, no question about it. He had risked his life tonight—and gotten hurt—to save people he barely knew.
As he dropped the manacles on the floor and straightened, their eyes met and held for a moment. Annie was startled by the feeling she saw swirling in his gaze. It wasn’t anger, or hatred, but something she hadn’t seen before... and couldn’t name.
And it lasted only an instant. “Dr. Holt sends his regards.” His voice was cool, even.
Annie glanced at the jagged cut on his shoulder. “He didn’t do that—”
“No.” Lucas’s mouth curved, as if in amusement. “He was a bystander. Mostly.”
“Is he all right?”
He slid the key back into his pocket, turning away. “Your precious doctor is just fine.”
“Why do you keep calling him that? Daniel is my friend. He’s like a brother to me.” When Lucas
glanced back at her she nodded toward the jagged cut. “How did that happen?”
“Broken bottle.” He turned to leave, picking up the lantern. “It’s nothing.”
“It could be something if it gets infected. You should at least look after it. Take the bandages.” Annie slid off the side of the bed nearest the chaise, realizing a bit belatedly that she had to keep the blanket wrapped around her. She was still wearing only her camisole and pantalettes underneath.
She grabbed the roll of bandages off the chaise and turned to toss it to him—only to find that he had come around the foot of the bed to meet her. She bumped right into him. The bandages tumbled from her hand, unraveling across the floor. He caught her elbow to steady her.
And both of them froze. The lantern swung in his other hand, making light and shadows dance around them. She could feel heat radiating from his body. Caught the faint scent of whiskey on his breath. Saw the gold-flecked, green depths of his eyes turn dark. That fluttery, ticklish sensation returned to her stomach.
And suddenly he drew her closer and lowered his head and kissed her.
Annie made a startled little sound in the back of her throat as his mouth covered hers. He let go of her elbow, his hand shifting to the nape of her neck. She grabbed his arms, her fingers closing around the taut, corded muscles beneath the rough wool of his shirt. And she wasn’t sure if she meant to push him away or keep herself from falling.
But she was already falling, tumbling into a bottomless pool of heat and hunger as his lips moved over hers. He tasted of whiskey, fiery and intoxicating. Her heart was beating strangely. It was a startling kiss.
That became a deep, slow, bone-melting kiss.
He angled his head and molded his mouth to hers, his fingers tangling in her hair. The lantern hit the floor with a thump and she wasn’t sure if he had set it down or dropped it. The sound in her throat became a soft moan. Her knees went weak. She no longer had the strength to stand, leaned into him, her breasts pillowed against the hard muscles of his chest.
He groaned, deepening the kiss, his bearded jaw abrading her skin. The thrust of his tongue against hers, hot and demanding, sent her senses spinning. Sparks skittered through her. Lucas’s kiss was passionate and intense, beyond anything she had ever experienced—and her own response shocked her. She kissed him back. Welcomed the hungry pressure of his mouth. The rough velvet of his tongue. Her hands came up to his face, her palms moving over his stubbled cheeks, her fingers sliding into his hair. She could feel her heart pounding hard and fast against his.
His arm fastened around her hips, drew her in tight against him.
And she felt exactly how much he wanted her.
A shudder went through her. A splinter of panic. What was she doing? She broke the kiss, turned her head. “Lucas, no.”
He went still. She could feel his harsh breathing. Heard him curse. He pulled away from her, the flimsy cotton of her camisole clinging to his skin.
The blanket had fallen to her ankles and she had never even noticed. She looked up at him. He stood staring down at her for a second, his eyes almost black, a muscle working in his jaw. Then he let her go, turning away and grabbing the lantern as he stalked out.
He slammed the door to her cell and locked it. She heard him throw the key across his room. Heard it hit and shatter something made of glass. He turned his lantern down. All the way.
And vanished in the darkness.
Chapter 9
“Why is that man in such an ornery mood?”
The sound of the disgruntled feminine voice made Annie look up from her chair beside the window, where she had been watching snowflakes float downward through the afternoon sunlight. After more than a week of clear, crisp autumn weather, a drizzle of rain that morning had turned into the first snowfall of the season.
“Rebecca!” Annie smiled with relief and rushed to the door of her cell as her friend entered the sitting room, carrying a wicker hamper. For most of the past week, Katja and Mrs. Owens had taken turns bringing her meals, since Rebecca had been indisposed. “I’m so glad to see you. Are you feeling better?”
“Yes, lamb. It was just another of my spells. I ain’t the youngest filly in the herd anymore, you know.” Rebecca set the basket down and brushed melting snowflakes from her woolen cape, which was a rich cardinal red, and untied the satin ribbons of her enormous purple bonnet. “Stage arrived this afternoon, so I thought I’d come over early and bring the marshal’s mail. But did that man thank me for saving him the trouble of coming to the store? No, he did not. Stormed out of here without even lettin’ me in your room.”
As Rebecca turned to set her coat and hat on a chair, Annie’s smile faded. She dropped her gaze to the scuffed toes of her patent-leather shoes.
Annie had no doubt that she was the source of Lucas’s awful temper the past week, after the way she had responded to his kiss, his touch, the heat of his body against hers—and then rebuffed him a moment later. She had only confirmed exactly what he thought of her: that she was a temptress, a tease.
Her mother’s daughter.
And it had obviously made him hate her all the more.
“That cantankerous varmint.” Rebecca glanced from the basket to the locked cell door, her cheeks pink from the frosty weather outside, her blue eyes full of annoyance. “How am I supposed to serve you your supper?”
Annie shook her head. “You’ll have to pass the food through the bars, I suppose.”
“Hmph. I wonder what was in his mail.” Rebecca bent down and lifted the basket’s lid. “Wasn’t but two letters, and he barely opened them ’afore he snapped at Travis and went out the door, looking riled up enough to eat the Devil with his horns on.”
“Oh?” Annie asked mildly.
“But then, I heard tell he’s been in an awful temper all week.” Rebecca started handing items through the bars: a white tablecloth and a napkin and some silverware. “Here I’d been thinkin’ maybe I had him wrong, after Daniel and Valentina told what he did over at Fairfax’s last week—though I still ain’t forgiven him for sneaking into my place and taking things from your room.” She sighed dramatically. “One minute he’s actin’ like a thief and a scalawag, and the next he turns into a... a...”
“Hero,” Annie suggested softly.
“Never did meet a lawman like him.” Rebecca passed an empty china plate sideways through the bars. “It’s near impossible to figure him out.”
“Yes,” Annie agreed, her voice so quiet it was almost lost beneath the crackling of the fire on her hearth.
Rebecca paused, still holding on to the plate. She squinted at Annie’s hands, then looked up at her face. “By the horn spoons, I just realized you’re runnin’ around loose in there! He didn’t handcuff you ’afore he left?”
“No,” Annie said lightly, not looking up as she took the plate.
Lucas hadn’t entered her cell once all week. He hadn’t handcuffed her when he went out, hadn’t touched her. Hadn’t come near her.
“Ain’t that a mite odd?”
“Um-hm.” Annie turned away to carry the items to the table beside her bed.
But not before she caught Rebecca looking at her with wide, interested eyes.
“Annie Sutton,” her friend said in a curious tone, “you know something you’re not telling.”
Annie shook her head, trying to look as if she had no idea what might account for the change in Lucas’s behavior. She took a bit longer than necessary to set the table, smoothing out the tablecloth, arranging the napkin and plate and silverware... because she felt her cheeks warm, and feared the blush would give her away.
Reveal her shame.
She hadn’t told any of her friends about the impulsive kiss she had shared with Lucas. In fact, she had been trying very hard not to think about it or him or that night. She was too mortified by the way she had surrendered to that reckless, heated embrace.
On the morning after, she had counted herself lucky that Valentina was the one who’d brought he
r breakfast. The sweet-natured girl hadn’t noticed the reddened, irritated skin along Annie’s jaw—or at least hadn’t guessed what it meant. Fortunately, Valentina had been too busy thanking Lucas for saving her the night before.
If Annie’s visitor that morning had been Rebecca, or Katja or Mrs. Owens, she wasn’t sure how she would’ve explained the fact that she had obviously been the recipient of a deeply passionate kiss.
“So?” Rebecca prompted impatiently. “Why do you think he didn’t handcuff you? I can’t believe he forgot, even if he is in a ripsnorter of a temper. He ain’t gettin’ careless, is he?” she asked hopefully. “He ain’t goin’ soft?”
“No.” Annie fidgeted nervously with a corner of the napkin. Soft was the last word she would use to describe Lucas. The idea was almost enough to make her laugh.
Almost.
“Annie?” Rebecca sounded concerned now.
Annie forced a smile, turning and walking back over to her cell door. “He... um... he lost the key to the handcuffs, I think.”
“Lost the key?”
“Well, he threw his keys across his room one night—”
“What? What made him all-fired angry enough to do that?”
“—and he looked for them the next morning. He found the one to the door but I don’t think he found the one to the handcuffs, so it must’ve fallen through a crack in the floorboards or something,” Annie finished without taking a breath.
In truth, he had only thrown the key to her door, and found it again the next morning. But she had to make up some kind of explanation.
“You mean that key might be lying around here somewheres?” Rebecca asked excitedly. She started exploring Lucas’s room, peering at the floorboards.
“Rebecca...”
“Land sakes, even if the critter lost the key to the handcuffs, he still could’ve let me into your room before he went out,” Rebecca muttered. “Somebody’s got to tend to your ribs.”
Annie shut her eyes, feeling her blush deepen as she remembered, vividly, the night that Lucas tended her injuries. Telling Rebecca half-truths made her feel awful, but how could she tell her friend what had really happened?
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