The Innocent And The Outlaw. Harper George St.

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The Innocent And The Outlaw - Harper George St.


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in Ship’s gang. She was trussed, more helpless than she had ever been, and this man was so much stronger than her. Making sure to get both sets of toes on the ground, she pushed upward with her last bit of strength and bent her knees, hoping to catch him in his groin or middle, anywhere soft where a kneecap could hurt.

      His hands dropped immediately to catch her, gripping her at the top of her thighs and pressing downward, holding them steady so that her one jolt of momentum had been lost and she flailed helplessly until she could get traction on the floor with her toes again. Except that when she did, her front was almost entirely pressed to his, so there was no space to attack him. “Whoa...easy... I won’t hurt you like that, Em.” His voice was low and deep.

      She was so shocked when he spoke her name that she gasped aloud. His lips tipped upward in an attractive smile. It was knowing and teasing, hinting at an awareness between them that she had no intention of acknowledging aloud. Damn him, it made her aware of the hard, strong length and breadth of his body pressed against hers and the way his big hands held her thighs tight against his own, and the fact that those things weren’t entirely unpleasant. Nothing about the moment should have reassured her about his intentions, but it did. He didn’t mean to force himself on her.

      “You know my name.”

      “The man at the saloon called you Em.” He explained. “What’s it short for? Emily? Emma?”

      The fact that her eyes had slipped down to watch his mouth form those words only made her angry. “That’s none of your business.”

      His brow rose and with that same lazy amusement, his hands slipped from her thighs and he moved to stand behind her to deftly finish unlacing the corset until it fell to the floor at her feet. She closed her eyes and bit down on her lip when his hands roamed her torso, making sure that there were no pockets hidden in the dress where she had stashed a weapon. He was back to being a ruthless outlaw when he stood before her again. She tried not to notice how the dress gaped open now that the corset wasn’t there to hold it in place. She wasn’t as buxom as her mother had been, but the corset had held the extra fabric in place nicely. Without it, well, there wasn’t much to keep the bodice from exposing her. He had no qualms about noticing and allowed his gaze to roam at will. When he reached toward her bodice, she sucked in a quick breath, but he only fished the locket out from between her breasts and turned it over in his fingers.

      She held that breath, willing him to put it back. Finally, he looked up from his study of the tin trinket with its faux onyx locket. The stone would open on a hinge to reveal the real treasure of the powders inside and his thumb absently stroked that very hinge, taunting her as she imagined just how easily it would pop open to reveal her secret. “Please, don’t take it. It was a gift from my father.”

      “Stolen no doubt,” he remarked as he examined the locket in his palm.

      “Not Ship,” she corrected. “My real father. That’s all I have of him. Please don’t take it.”

      “Not Ship, huh?” His knowing glance filled her with dread. “You mean not Ship Campbell, the man you claim to know nothing about?”

      Dammit! She wasn’t any good at this. She’d walked right into that. This was the worst night of her life and she was being a complete idiot. First the powders and now this. She was always the one in the family with a level head. The one making sure they had canned enough food to last through winter, making sure the eggs they sold in town went for the best price, but now she was being an idiot. The fear she had been holding back so well was finally starting to wear on her.

      He grinned and gently tucked the trinket back between her breasts, the backs of his fingers stroking against her skin as he did. Biting down on the inside of her lip to stop the shiver that threatened to move through her, she watched his face for any indication of what he planned to do next. Taking a step back, he crossed his arms over his chest. “All right, you can keep it, but only if you tell me what you know about Campbell.”

      It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him to go to hell again, but that would simply be letting her anger talk and do her no favors. He might even take her locket, leaving her situation even more dire. Anger wasn’t the way to handle him or her predicament. It was time to start using her head and stop simply reacting to what was happening. She was smarter than this, smarter than him. She just needed to get herself out of her bonds and the only way to do that was to appear to cooperate and earn his trust.

      Swallowing back the words she longed to hurl at him, she managed a grave expression and gave him a contrite nod. “Ship Campbell is my stepfather.”

      “How long have you known him?”

      “About thirteen years.”

      “When did you last see him?”

      “Five weeks ago. He was supposed to be home last week, but he hasn’t come back yet.”

      “What do you know about his plans when he left?” he asked, continuing his rapid-fire assault.

      Torn between playing along and risking revealing something that he shouldn’t know and possibly compromising Ship’s safety, she bit down on her bottom lip to contemplate her answer. His gaze immediately darted to the movement and she froze as an intangible and warm current moved between them. Lord, this man was dangerous in more ways than one. In completely inappropriate ways that didn’t bear thinking about now trussed up like she was.

      With an infinitely gentle touch, his thumb pressed against the flesh just below her lip and pulled it free. “No lying. Tell the truth and I promise you’ll be safe.”

      Just the touch of his thumb felt a thousand times better than it should. She took in a shuddering breath as a ripple of pleasure moved through her from that touch before answering him. It wasn’t as if she knew that much anyway. “He was going to rob a bank in Crystal City, I think. It was supposed to be a quick job and then back.”

      “It takes about a week and a half to ride to Crystal City from here. A week and a half back. What did he plan to do with that extra week?”

      He’d mentioned a detour to meet an old friend, to hide out so no one followed him from the bank, but the presence of the Reyes Brothers made her wonder if that hadn’t worked out. “I don’t know,” she answered. “He doesn’t share the details with me and I don’t ask.”

      “Why doesn’t he share the details? Aren’t you involved with his gang?” That same thumb traced a lazy path across her chin before he grimaced and drew his hand back, as if just catching himself in the act of touching her.

      “No,” she snapped at him, unreasonably angry at herself for missing his touch.

      He was quiet for a while, his gaze piercing, making her want to fidget beneath his scrutiny. He didn’t believe her. The skepticism was plainly written on his face. She couldn’t blame him, though, because she knew herself to be a horrible liar. She wasn’t involved with his plans, but she knew where his friend lived. Ship had always told her to look for him there if he ever went missing. If Ship was actually visiting that friend, she had no idea, but it was something she needed to keep to herself, which was why she needed a distraction. She’d feed him faulty information about the farm, make them go somewhere else so they would leave her alone.

      “Go to the farm if you don’t believe me. He’s not there. But he keeps a chest at the foot of his bed and it’s full of notes. You might find something there that will tell you where he’s gone.”

      His expression didn’t change as he brought his thumb up and slowly ran the side along the crease below his well-formed bottom lip. Perversely, the movement held her mesmerized until she forced herself to look away. “You still don’t believe me?”

      “Your sudden cooperation seems a little too convenient.”

      It was too convenient. She was planning to lie. “My hands are numb and my arms hurt. That changes things.”

      “Where’s the farm?” he asked, without addressing her complaints.

      “Oh, no, you don’t get that information


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