"Your countrymen behave better than anyone else in Europe, even when they're drunk? You must tell me how you managed that. Sometimes I'm hired to bring a town under control. It would be useful to know how to do it without having to kill so many."
Valeria had never dealt with a man who didn't hesitate to puncture her arguments or expose the folly of age-old custom.
She turned to Sandoval, who had returned to the bar. "If you learn of anyone capable and willing"-she glanced at Luke before turning back to Sandoval-"to act as my guide, would you please direct him to my hotel?"
"Si, senorita."
"Good day, Mr. Attmore."
"Good day."
He didn't stand when she got up to leave. He had no respect for her or the tradition she represented. She certainly didn't see why Hans should have thought him the person to guide her through the Arizona Territory.
But even as she strode toward the door, she couldn't rid herself of the suspicion that he was the best possible choice. She didn't believe for a moment Sandoval's stories about those other men. Luke Attmore had convinced them not to work for her. Just like he'd convinced the drunks to stop shouting and singing in the street. She didn't believe that nonsense about American courtesy,either. The farther west she went, the less she got. Until she met Luke Attmore.
Then she got none.
She left the cool, dark interior of the saloon and went out into the full brightness of the sun. And the heat. She would ruin her dress before she reached her hotel. Well, one dress didn't matter. She had others. And she wouldn't come out of her hotel again until Hans or Otto found a guide.
Which brought her thoughts back to Luke Attmore. She couldn't imagine what it was about this man that affected everyone so powerfully. She could understand his effect on women because she'd experienced it herself. Actually, understand wasn't exactly the right word. She didn't understand it at all. He was everything she disliked in a man. Well, that wasn't true, either. His looks were fabulous, or they would be if he bought some decent clothes, but he had a rotten personality. She doubted even his mother liked him.
She still hadn't gotten it quite right. She'd known men just as attractive, but she'd been virtually unaffected by their looks. There was something different about Luke, something she couldn't identify. She couldn't imagine why she should be so powerfully affected by a man without being able to explain why, but it was foolish to pretend she wasn't. Still, it wasn't a problem that needed solving. She'd never see him again.
"Keep looking for a guide," she said to Otto and Hans as she entered her hotel. "I don't believe everybody is suddenly busy."
"We've asked everyone," Otto said.
"Then ask again. Maybe one of them has changed his mind."
"Yes, your highness," Otto said.
"I think you ought to ask Mr. Attmore to take the job."
She spun around to face Hans. "I wouldn't beg him if he were the last man on earth."
"He may be the only man in Bonner who can do the job."
"Send a message to Rudolf. He'll come get me."
"Duke Rudolf won't leave his ranch for fear of assassination," Otto said.
"Then I'll wait until you can find a guide. Surely not every man in America is intimidated by Luke Attmore."
It seemed impossible to her that a single man without an army could exert such influence. She might have understood it if he'd been a king or a member of some royal family. Then his position, his birthright, would have commanded some influence, even with these disrespectful Americans. But Luke had nothing except his reputation as a gunman, and he seemed too lazy to use his weapon.
"What do you think about Mr. Attmore?" she asked Elvira over her shoulder as they climbed the stairs to her room.
"I think he is a very dangerous man," her maid replied. "I'm afraid of him."
That surprised Valeria so much she stopped on the landing and turned to face her maid. "Why would you say that?" She'd been a little afraid of Luke when she first saw him lurking outside her hotel. She actually felt more safe now knowing he was prowling about.
"Did you see his eyes?" Elvira asked, and shivered.
"Of course I saw his eyes," Valeria said, turning to continue up the stairs. "I couldn't help it with him staring straight at me." She'd never seen such blue eyes. They reminded her of huge sapphires, deep blue, hard, with light flashing from deep inside. Even now she could picture them as clearly as if he were sitting before her.
"He has hard eyes," Elvira said, "the eyes of a killer."
"Of course he's a killer. That's what he's paid to do."
"But a killer without conscience."
"I imagine a conscience would only get in the way of his job."
"That's why he frightens me," Elvira said. "I don't think he'd ever let anything get in the way of his job."
"Nothing's supposed to. That's why Hans hired him in the first place."
She stopped outside her door while Elvira unlocked it.
"I thought you wanted to know what I thought of him as a man," Elvira said as she opened the door and stepped back to allow Valeria to enter first.
"Why should you think that?" Valeria asked even as she realized that was exactly what she'd wanted. She doubted it was possible for a woman to think of Luke Attmore in any other terms. "Never mind. We won't speak of him again. Help me change into something cooler."
But as the long hours of the morning and afternoon crept slowly by, Valeria found that Luke Attmore continued to absorb her thoughts. The more she thought about him, the more confused she became. And the more angry. She didn't want to think about him. She didn't want to remember his eyes. Or his lips. Or anything else about his unforgettable face. Having nothing to do but entertain herself with thoughts centered around Luke made the empty hours still worse. She had no one to talk to, nowhere to go. And even if she did, the heat was intolerable.
"Where are my books?" she demanded of Elvira.
"You've read everything at least twice."
That was something else she had to do when she reached Rudolf's ranch. She hadn't been able to buy a book since she left England. As far as she could tell, people in the West-and they all seemed to be men didn't read. She couldn't imagine what they did with their time.
The last five days had been the most miserable and infuriating of Valeria's life. And she owed every crushingly boring minute of it to Luke Attmore. Neither Hans nor Otto had been able to find anyone who would agree to take them to Rudolf's ranch.
"You're going to have to ask Mr. Attmore to reconsider," Hans said.
"I will not beg that man to do anything for me."
"He merely wants you to ask," Hans said. "He said he won't take a job when the person he's supposed to protect doesn't want him."
"When did he say that?" Valeria asked. That put a different perspective on the situation. She supposed that not even Luke Attmore's armor of conceit would enable him to ignore a client who didn't want him around.
"Just after he was fired."
"What were you doing talking to him?" Otto demanded.
"I wanted him to reconsider. My research told me he was the best man for the job."
Valeria sensed the tension between the two men. She wished they wouldn't compete for her favor. She had complete confidence in both of them.
"We don't have anyone to take his place," Hans said, unnecessarily repeating that fact. "You'd better give me the money so I can rehire him."
"You can't rehire him," Otto said. "Her highness has to ask him."
Valeria knew she had no alternative, but the gall of defeat wasn't made any less bitter by necessity. Rudolf couldn't come to her, so she had to go to him. She had to ask Luke Attmore to escort her there whether she choked on her pride or not.
But then, she was a woman. No one expected her to have pride, certainly not the kind expected of a man. Men could fight wars, kill each other in duels, lose fortunes at the gambling table, and everything could be expected because of pride. Let a woman do anything similar,
and everyone would call her a fool.
She sighed. "Ask him to come to my room."
"It's not proper for him to enter your room," Otto said. "He was here when I arrived," she said, barely holding on to her temper. "I don't see that it matters if he's here once more."
"Duke Rudolf won't like it."
"Then don't tell him. Besides, he should have been the one to hire a guide for me. He would know how to deal with these men far better than any of us."
"I'll try to convince him to take my word that you've changed your mind," Hans said.
Valeria felt relieved and, much to her surprise, a bit disappointed. Rather than analyze this irrational response, she paced the floor, trying to decide what she would say in case Luke Attmore insisted upon a face-to-face meeting. She refused to beg, or sound like she was begging.
"I'll simply say, `I want you to take me to Rudolf,' " she said to her maid. "Don't you think that's enough?"
Elvira didn't appear to have an opinion on the matter, at least not one she could state clearly. She seemed consumed with the fear that she would soon be in the same room with Luke Attmore.
"He won't hurt you," Valeria assured her. "He's just a man."
Even she didn't believe that, but neither did she fear him. She just hated that she had to ask him. Surely he wouldn't humiliate her by refusing. But the more she
thought about it, the less sure she was about what he might do. He was a mystery to her, one she doubted she could solve. Rudolf wouldn't hire men like Luke. Once at the Ranch she would be surrounded by people who understood and valued her way of life. She would be comfortable.
A woman could feel safe with a man like Luke Attmore, but not comfortable. The possibility of an even closer relationship didn't bear thinking about. Apparently American women agreed with her. She hadn't askedthere was no reason she should-but she was certain he wasn't married. He didn't wear a ring.
When had she noticed that? She couldn't remember, but there was nothing domesticated about Luke Attmore. Despite that, she was certain he got everything he wanted from women. It would be so easy for a woman, wrapped in the sensual pleasure of his company, to forget that he was far more dangerous to her than anyone he might be expected to protect her from.
Valeria muttered a curse that would have brought a rebuke from her uncle. She was tired of thinking about Luke Attmore. The sooner she reached Rudolf's ranch, the sooner she could turn her back on him.
Hans returned alone.
"Where is Mr. Attmore?" Valeria asked.
"Gone to bed," Hans replied. "He said he wanted to leave at dawn. He said you were to go to bed, too."
Go to bed before eight o'clock! Leave at dawn! The man had to be crazy. She hadn't even had dinner. It would be impossible for her chef to prepare and serve breakfast before eight o'clock. She would have to talk to Mr. Attmore. She was willing to make some compromises, but this was preposterous.
Chapter Four
Valeria fought the call to wake up. It was winter, snow piled deep outside her window, and she was warm and cozy in her bed. She didn't want to get up and dress in a cold room. She didn't want to eat breakfast with her governess telling her not to gobble and to chew every mouthful thirty-two times.
"Go away," she mumbled. "I don't want to do my lessons."
She liked history and art, but she had math and natural science today. Her tutor made her seek nature where it could be found. That usually meant woods and swamps. She always came home wet and dirty.
Valeria felt her covers being stripped away. She opened her eyes to see Luke Attmore standing next to her bed.
"You've got exactly ten seconds to get out of bed and one minute to get dressed," he said, his eyes glinting hard as blue steel, his jaw rigid enough to support an entire building. "If you can't manage it in that time, I'll do it for you."
Valeria looked wildly about the room before she remembered she was in the tiny town of Bonner in the Arizona Territory and there were no footmen or armed soldiers to come to her aid, just her maid who was now cowering in the corner and looking frightened out of her wits.
"What are you doing in my room?" Valeria demanded. She reached automatically for something to cover herself, but Like had thrown all the bedding onto the floor.
"It'll soon be time to leave," Luke said.
Except for a solitary lamp, the room was in virtual darkness. Not a single ray of light entered through the windows. "It's still dark outside. Nobody travels in the middle of the night."
Luke reached out, took hold of her hand, and dragged her to the edge of the bed. "You do if you want me to take you to Rudolf. What do you want to wear? I'll find it."
"Don't touch my clothes!" she cried.
Luke paid no attention. He pulled one dress after another from the wardrobe and tossed each aside.
"Dozens of dresses and not a single sensible one. Stand up.
When shock prevented her from moving, he pulled her to her feet. "You're about five feet, four inches tall."
"Five-five," she corrected.
He put his hands around her waist. Before she could recover from the shock of having him touch her, he moved his hands up to her breasts. She froze, paralyzed, unable to move. No man had ever dared touch her. He would have died before the firing squad.
"Not bad," Luke said half to himself before his hands
moved down to run over her hips and buttocks. Valeria managed to recover herself enough to fling his hands away.
"I'll have you shot for this," she declared.
"Relax. I'm not trying to take advantage of you. I needed to take your measurements for a dress." "I have plenty of dresses."
"None that won't give you heat stroke." He looked at her as if noticing for the first time that she was practically naked. "If you're going to stand here winding yourself up like a corkscrew, you might as well put something on." A knock sounded on the door. "That'll be your breakfast," Luke said. He picked up a sheet from the floor. "Wrap this around you. I don't want the cook to drop the tray."
"No one is allowed in my bedroom until my maid has finished dressing me."
"You'll have to get over that," Luke said as he crossed the room and opened the door. "There won't be much privacy on the trail."
Looking as stunned as Valeria felt, the chef entered the room, his gaze glued to the floor. Pants under a nightshirt indicated he'd been yanked out of bed and thrust directly into the kitchen.
"You've got one hour to dress, eat, and pack everything you mean to take," Luke said.
"It will take me longer than that to dress."
She felt pinned to the wall by Luke's gaze. "You leave this room in an hour with or without clothes on your back. What you haven't packed stays behind."
"Where are you going?" she demanded when he turned and walked through the open doorway.
"To see that the rest of the lazy fools in your entourage haven't gone to sleep standing up."
Valeria fought off the stupor that threatened to swallow her. "I will not be hauled around like a sack of turnips. You're fired."
Luke crossed the room in the space of a single breath, his face, taut and angry, only inches from Valeria's. "We played that game once. Now you've got me whether you want me or not."
"I don't want you," Valeria said.
But she spoke to ambient air. Luke had left the room. She heard the sound of his boots on the stairs.
For a moment no one moved. Valeria felt weak, powerless. The chef stared at his feet, the breakfast tray still in his grasp. Elvira might as well have been a statue. She hadn't moved-or breathed, as far as Valeria could tellwhile Luke had been in the room.
Then the enormity of what had happened swept over her. Luke had invaded her bedchamber, stripped the covers from her, and dragged her from the bed in her nightgown. He'd emptied half her wardrobe and strewn her clothes over the floor. But worst of all, he'd put his hands all over her as though he was studying the conformation of a horse he was about to buy. She checked the desire to hurl damn
ing epithets down the stairs after him. She stifled the yearning to scream in helpless frustration.
"Don't stand there like a dolt," she snapped at Elvira. "Everything must be ready in an hour. Everything."
Elvira shuddered and came to life. "I locked the door," she said. "I don't know how he got in."
"There's nothing we can do about that now," Valeria said. "Just start packing."
"But you're not dressed."
"Forget me. My possessions are more important. All I have in the world-everything that can make life bearable in this wilderness-is with me. I don't want to leave any of it behind. Put that tray down," she said to the chef. "Find Otto and Hans and send them to me immediately."
"You can't see them dressed like that," Elvira protested.
"Luke has seen me like this," Valeria snapped. "Nothing can be worse than that."
But by the time Hans arrived, she had put on a dress and gotten the worst tangles out of her hair. She didn't look like a royal princess, but she wasn't half naked.
Hans looked as though he been dragged out of bed, aimed at his clothes, and thrust into the hall.
"I'm terribly sorry, your highness. I never-"
"What's done is done," Valeria said, cutting off his almost tearful apology. "I want you and Otto to make sure everything I brought is packed in one of the wagons and ready to go."
"The wagons are loaded," Hans said. "We're waiting only for your personal belongings."
Valeria didn't understand. Her possessions filled several train cars.
"He had men working all night," Hans said. "He said if he'd waited for us, it would be December before we got started."
"What men?" Valeria asked. There were no men in her entourage other than Otto, Hans, the chef, and his helpers.
"He emptied a saloon of miners and offered them free drinks if they didn't break anything."
Valeria thought of the priceless heirlooms she'd brought from Europe and her skin crawled. If he and his ruffians had ruined anything-well, she didn't know what she'd do, but she'd think of something. Her ancestors were famous for their dirty tricks. She must have inherited some of their ability.
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