A Marriage Deal With The Outlaw. Harper George St.
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that ache in her throat and looked away from him. She’d seen the beginning of interest in Castillo’s eyes when he’d looked at her on the train, and then again tonight. He found her attractive. She didn’t want to see that interest change now that he knew the truth about her.
The seconds passed, ticked off by the clock on the mantel above the fireplace, and he didn’t say anything. With every bit of will she possessed, she forced herself to meet his gaze. It didn’t matter what he thought of her. It wasn’t as if that little flirtation on the train meant anything.
His expression was unchanged, though, and unreadable. Finally, he said, “You admit that you do want to be married, so why not marry before medical school?”
“It’s not that easy. For one, it would require me to find a husband who is supportive of my choice. You can’t imagine how difficult that is. For two, I don’t know of a man I’d want to marry or who’d be interested in marrying me. Not in the next few months.”
He smiled then, and his gaze flicked over her features and down to her bosom and even lower to touch on her hips. She blushed at his scrutiny. Her face burned hotter when his gaze moved back up to hers and she could see that he appreciated what he saw. His eyes were a deeper green, somehow, and his smile...she couldn’t describe it. It wasn’t lecherous, like the men she sometimes passed in the street in the shabbier parts of town. It was admiring, appreciative, the way one might look upon a much-revered—friend? No, not a friend. It was too intimate for that. A lover?
Her body came alive at the thought, just as it had begun to come to life when he’d had his arms around her. Her heartbeat fluttered, and something pulsed dangerously low in her belly. Somehow, she became even more aware of his presence across from her. His powerful frame radiated heat.
“I won’t believe that you don’t have suitors.” Something about the way he said that, with that hint of an accent and with such certainty, had her squirming in her chair.
“Well, I haven’t.” She stared at her recently buffed fingernails because she couldn’t hold his gaze anymore. “That’s why I need your help.”
“Oh?” He seemed only mildly interested now, and she couldn’t fathom what he must be thinking.
Taking a deep breath to steel her nerves, she said, “I’ll keep quiet about who you are, about what I saw on the train, but I need you to compromise me.”
Castillo took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. It didn’t help though, because even across the distance he could smell the lavender on her skin. The scent was still on him from when he’d held her against him. His gaze went to her lush mouth, and he imagined how soft her pink lips would feel as they opened beneath his. He closed his eyes before he could imagine anything more, but he only saw her disheveled. All of that golden hair down around her waist, her creamy skin flushed with need.
He’d been attracted to her on the train because she was pretty and kept her wits about her when she’d faced death. He’d admired her then. But this woman...this woman was all of that and more. She stood up for herself, she challenged him and she did it all while making him imagine how great it would feel to have all of that energy focused on him. She was so different from what he’d thought he wanted in a woman, but all he could imagine was how explosive they could be in bed. His eyes shot open and he had to look away from her, but he couldn’t banish the thoughts.
“I’m not in the habit of compromising innocents, Miss Hartford.” She was an innocent, and she wouldn’t welcome what he had in mind.
She was silent, and he finally looked back at her, curious as to her thoughts. She stared at him pensively, her head tilted to the side. He couldn’t tell if she knew the direction of his thoughts, but he couldn’t stop his gaze from drifting down to her soft lips.
“No, I suppose you aren’t, Mr. Rey—Mr. Jameson.” She didn’t look away, even though she blushed, and he knew she felt the attraction between them. Her heated gaze held his for far longer than was appropriate. But, hell, he was in her bedroom, alone, late at night. They’d passed appropriate a long time ago.
“I’m sorry.” She blinked, looking down at her hands clasped in her lap. “I don’t mean to stare, it’s just that... I know this sounds silly, but I feel that I can trust you. I know that I met you on a train while you chased a man with a gun, and now you’re asking me not to reveal your alternate identity or why you’re looking for that man, but—” she laughed “—I do. I look into your eyes and I trust that you are a man of honor.”
He clenched his teeth and swallowed the bitter taste on the back of his tongue. He’d been a man of honor once, but that was long ago. There was too much blood on his hands to ever claim to be honorable again. He hadn’t even been completely truthful with her. Yes, his name was Reyes and he was searching for the man who’d murdered his grandfather. However, he’d conveniently left out the list of crimes he’d committed in that search and the fact that he and his men had somehow become a band of notorious outlaws.
The Reyes Brothers. The papers called them a gang. Castillo had never thought of them in that way. There’d even been a drawing in one of the papers once. Castillo, Hunter and Zane had been drawn with kerchiefs over the lower halves of their faces as they faced down a sheriff. The shoot-out had never happened, though the artist had captured Zane’s scar perfectly. But that was back in Texas, and far away from Montana Territory, where his identity was still secret. Castillo hoped like hell he could keep it that way. Her silence could help ensure that.
He didn’t know why he felt the need to warn her away from him, but he found himself saying, “You should take care in placing your trust. You don’t know me.”
“I don’t,” she agreed. “But I know people, Mr. Jameson. And I know you find me pleasing.” Even in the dim lamplight he could see the blush that rose to her cheeks again. “I know that...that you’ve thought about compromising me, and yet you don’t. Why?”
He shifted again, finding her candor unsettling. “You don’t mince your words, do you?”
She chewed her bottom lip and her eyes shifted across the room toward the cold fireplace. “I’m told it’s a flaw.”
Something twisted deep in his gut. “You’re not flawed from what I can see.”
She smiled, but it seemed sad and hollow, and it slipped away before he was ready for it to go. She met his eyes again with her startlingly direct gaze. “Thank you. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get to sleep. As you can imagine, I have a few things to think over.” She started to rise, but he leaned forward, holding out a hand, though he stopped just short of touching her.
“Wait. I’m afraid I can’t leave until I have your promise to keep silent.”
“And I’m afraid I can’t give it to you. I need to go to medical school, and it appears I can’t do that until I’m either wed or so ruined that no man will want to marry me.”
“You can’t mean that. Even if I were to do as you ask, you’ve said yourself that you want to be married one day. Don’t you think the scandal will follow you for years? Don’t you think that it could ruin your ability to marry in the future?”
She smiled at him then, like he was a simpleton who clearly didn’t understand her argument. “No, I’m not worried in the least. You see, the man I’ll eventually marry won’t care. I don’t plan to marry one of those gentlemen who trots out to our fund-raisers, gives a pretty speech, pledges a donation and then returns to his parties and the theater. I plan to marry a physician or perhaps a professor. Someone scholarly who won’t care for gossip and who’ll listen to me when I explain the circumstances of my being compromised.”
Castillo leaned back in his chair and raked a hand through his hair. Not that he’d ever put himself in the running as a contender for her hand, but had he, she had just shot down all hope. He wasn’t the