A Marriage Deal With The Outlaw. Harper St. George
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the wrap from her shoulders. No one was trying to get her. She’d get into her night rail and go to sleep. Everything would seem better in the morning.
“I’d like a moment before you undress.”
Her heart jumped up into her throat and she gasped and turned to see Reyes stepping out of the small washroom attached to her bedroom. He was dressed in his shirtsleeves and suspenders with no coat or waistcoat, as if he’d been about to retire before deciding to pay a call on her. He still wore the dark trousers and boots he’d been wearing downstairs. Tall, with wide shoulders, his chest roped with muscle beneath his shirt, he seemed to take up most of the space in the room and all of the available air. She had to force a breath into her tightened chest. “What are you doing in my bedroom?”
He turned his hands palms out to show he wasn’t armed, though he left them at his sides. A quick glance to his hips and waistband found no weapon stowed there. “I want to talk to you, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t scream.”
“Why would I want to cooperate with you?” Screaming wasn’t a natural response for her. She very much preferred rational thoughts and actions. But she’d closed the drapes, and now the room seemed very small and very intimate. When he stepped forward, he was closer to the door leading to the hall than she was. They were both an equal distance from the veranda door, but one glance at his long legs and she knew he’d be able to stop her before she reached it.
Perhaps screaming was a viable option in this situation.
“Because I have a man in your father’s room.” He didn’t continue the threat, but he didn’t have to. If she screamed, her father’s life would be in danger.
Her spirits sank to settle like a lump in the pit of her stomach. When they’d passed her father’s room there’d been no light coming from beneath the door, so she’d assumed he’d gone to sleep. She’d been too consumed with her own fears to even worry that he was in danger. Guilt clawed its way past her fear, digging its talons into her heart and giving her courage. “If you hurt him, I swear to God that you will pay,” she said through clenched teeth.
Reyes didn’t move, but something changed in his eyes. It was difficult to tell in the low light of the lamp, but she thought she saw a gleam of respect. Then his lips twitched, one corner of his mouth coming up in a grin that he fought, and she realized that he was only amused. He didn’t believe she had any power to bring him to justice, and maybe she didn’t. “He won’t be harmed, and I swear not to touch you, either. I only want to talk to you.”
“You mean that you want me to do your bidding. I won’t be harmed as long as I do what you want.”
He hesitated and then inclined his head a little in agreement. “I’m certain we can come to an arrangement favorable to both of us.”
Caroline wasn’t nearly as certain. The only remaining door was the one that led to the sitting room. Only it had been turned into a maid’s chamber because of the extra help the Jamesons had hired for the wedding. It was her only hope of getting away from him, so she backed toward it and hoped it wasn’t locked from the other side. “We don’t have anything to talk about.”
She turned and ran, but he was on her before she reached the door. One hand went over her mouth while an arm went around her waist to pull her back against him. It was eerily similar to the way the man had grabbed her on the train and almost sent her into a panic.
“You have no reason to fear me.” His deep voice spoke softly against her ear.
As if the fact that he’d appeared in her bedroom wasn’t a good reason to fear him. She jerked her face away, but he followed, keeping his hand firmly in place.
“I want to explain about the train and who I am. Please, mi corazόn.”
The endearment got to her. For that brief moment, he wasn’t an intruder in her bedroom, he was the handsome stranger she’d met on the train. His voice moved like warm honey through her veins, and his warm body was firm against her back. His strength was reassuring, as it had been two days ago. He was so broad, so strong, that her heart quickened for an entirely different reason as her body began to awaken.
Sensing her capitulation, he slowly lifted his hand from her mouth, but kept his arm wrapped around her waist. The fingers of that hand gently bit into her hip, but not in a way that was painful. His touch was a quiet exploration as each finger seemed to become aware of her with soft pressure. She took in a deep breath and his cologne filled her senses. It was the same as the one he’d worn on the train, only this time she had the presence of mind to examine it. Hints of citrus mixed with leather and a woodsy scent she was certain he must have brought in with him from outside. Whatever it was, it gave her the strange urge to turn around and bury her face in his neck to get closer to the smell. Strange how a scent she’d only smelled once before could be comforting and remind her of how he’d soothed her.
Once his hand lifted completely from her mouth, he dropped it to her arm, where it moved down in a slow, almost absentminded stroke that ended much too soon. She closed her eyes as she tried to contain the shiver that traveled down her spine. This was wrong, but despite her best intentions, she was intrigued by him. She had to remind herself that he was an enemy now.
“In the last few minutes, you’ve threatened my father and restrained me. I’m finding it a little difficult to believe that I have nothing to fear from you.”
His grip on her hip loosened, hesitated and then fell away. A moment later he moved back, putting enough space between his chest and her back that she actually missed the heat of his body. Taking a deep breath, she turned and faced him, looking up a bit to meet his gaze. She was taken aback by the green-gold of his eyes. They caught the glow of the lamplight and seemed even more vivid against the shadowed darkness of his skin.
“I’m sorry that was necessary.” His eyes filled with regret. “We seem to have a knack for being tossed together.”
“That appears to be true, yes.” She pressed herself back against the door. She knew running wouldn’t get her anywhere, but she felt safer, more in control, knowing that she could leave.
“Please sit.” He gestured to the two armchairs set near the windows. “I’ll explain to you what I can.”
She hesitated, but there wasn’t any other option aside from screaming. She’d hear him out and could always scream later, if need be. Nodding, she made her way to one of the chairs and perched on the edge, ready to jump up. He took the other one, his long legs stretched out before him, his shoulders spreading from one wing of the chair to the other.
“I’ve met you as a man named Reyes and now as Castillo Jameson. Who are you?”
“My given name is Castillo Jameson. Reyes is my mother’s family. It’s the name I went by after my father left us when I was a boy.”
He spoke so matter-of-factly that she was inclined to believe him. Something about the image of him as a little boy, abandoned by his father, tugged at her heart. She found herself saying, “I’m sorry about your father.”
The words settled into the space between them. He drew in a breath and his eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but she was so aware of him that she noticed; her nerve endings were alive with his presence. It was wrapped around her with an almost tangible thickness.
Clearing his throat—a deep masculine sound that rumbled through her in a most unnerving way—he said, “It... It’s in the past.”
She nodded. “Mr. Jameson is your father...the one who abandoned you?”
“Tanner is my father.” He nodded.
Well, that explained the two names easily enough. She almost felt silly expecting there to be some darker reason, except he had been chasing a man who’d been afraid enough to threaten her life. There had to be more to this.
She hadn’t met Tanner Jameson before this trip west, but Aunt Prudie had always been his champion. However, Aunt Prudie championed anyone who was on Isabelle Hartford Jameson’s bad