Chapter Two

      Sophie felt a twinge of longing twist deep within her as she watched Gray approach. In the darkness his eyes held a feral glint that made him look more Comanche than white. Yes, Comanche. She knew that because months ago she had casually asked Sinclair about Gray and then done her best to find out everything she’d been told. She still didn’t really know much, except to wonder why he was so far north.

      The absence of his usually present hat accentuated the untamed quality he exuded. His hair hung loose past his shoulders with a single thin braid beginning at his left temple. His overt wildness should have deterred her interest, but it had the opposite effect. She wanted something. To know him. To have some claim to him. It made no sense; she had no right to those feelings.

      “Miss Buchanan.” His hypnotic eyes settled on her as he extended his hand to help her down the steps of the Nelsons’ house.

      Sophie looked down to see his palm outstretched to her and felt her mouth go dry. That brief moment in the hall was the first time they’d touched at all. Now she was about to touch him skin to skin and felt wanton that she was anticipating it so much. Her fingertips tingled before they slipped across his rough palm and his fingers closed around them. His hand was warm and strong, completely engulfing hers. A current almost like electricity traveled the length of her arm. She looked back up to see if he felt the connection, too, but he was already looking toward the buggy, away from her, as he helped her down the steps. She felt a bizarre desire to prolong the contact, but in seconds she was seated in the waiting buggy and there was no reason to not let go. So she did. But she felt the loss deeply.

      His touch was nothing like Anton’s. Anton, with his cold, possessive hand almost constantly at her waist, failed to stir any feeling at all within her except maybe disgust. While Gray, without even trying, stirred far too many feelings. It was a dangerous attraction. She knew that, had known it from the first time she saw him, but it hadn’t stopped her from thinking about him. Maybe it was the wedding looming before her making her bolder, but she knew an undeniable feminine longing to discover if the attraction was mutual.

      “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