She stepped aside so he could enter. As soon as he did, she drew away from him and struggled with disgust. The man’s teeth had rotted nearly into his tobacco-stained gums, grime filled the pockmarks on his cheeks, and his hair was so greasy, it looked as though he’d combed it with a block of butter.
But she did not need her bodyguard to be attractive or clean, she reminded herself. She only needed a big, well-armed man to protect her, and this man was both.
He grinned at her. “I’m yer man, lady.”
She closed the door. “I shall be the judge of that, sir. Tell me, what experience have you had?”
His black eyes glittered as he stared at her bosom. “Experience? Well, I bedded my first wench when I was fourteen and ain’t let up since. Hear tell I’ve got some sixteen kids spread all over Texas and Mexico, so ya can be sure and certain that I’ll git yer belly blowed up real fast.”
“What?” Theodosia belatedly realized that this man had come in answer to her first circular, not the second. “Sir, you do not possess the intellectual characteristics I specified. What’s more, you do not have blue eyes. Please leave.”
Still grinning, he headed for the bed and lowered himself onto it. It groaned beneath his massive weight. “Pretend they’re blue.”
“I will do no such thing. You are not qualified.”
“Come here, little beauty, and I’ll show ya how qualified I am.” He stood and fumbled with the fastening at the top of his breeches. “Some girls I know call this my blue steel throbber, but there ain’t been no girl willin’ to pay a hunnerd dollars in gold to get her some of it.”
Keeping her gaze centered on his face, Theodosia swallowed to control her rising apprehension. “Sir, if you do not leave immediately, I shall be forced to summon the authorities and have you incarcerated. Debauched men such as yourself belong behind bars, where they can do no further harm to society.”
He laughed. “Only lawman we got is Deputy Pitts, and by noon he’s plumb snockered. By this time o’ the evenin’, he’s passed out on the floor o’ the jailhouse. Now, s’posin’ ya take off that dress? Or maybe ya need a little hep?” He lumbered toward her.
She grabbed her gold-filled velvet bag from the top of the dresser and swung hard, hitting him on the side of his face.
She might as well have hit him with a sack of whispers. Chuckling, he heaved her over his shoulder, carried her to the bed, and laid her down.
His beefy hands snatched at her skirts. She tried to kick him; he pinned her legs down with his own, grabbed at her breasts, and wet her neck with great sucking kisses.
Her all-consuming terror tore a long and desperate scream from her throat. It exploded into her ears and shot through her body, silenced only by the deafening crash of the door as it splintered from its hinges.
Roman burst inside.
Theodosia only had time to see the cold fury in his ice-blue eyes before he ripped her assailant off the bed. Mute with surprise and horror, she watched the man spin and slam his fist into Roman’s jaw.
Instantly, Roman sent him to the floor with a powerful kick beneath the man’s chin. He allowed the man to stagger to his feet, then grabbed his arm and twisted it until a sickening pop assured him he’d broken it.
The man shrieked with pain as Roman dragged him to the window and promptly pitched him through the glass. He hit the ground below with a dull thud.
Roman turned from the window, and with his lower sleeve, he wiped blood off the corner of his mouth. His shoulders heaving with exertion, he withdrew a flier from inside his shirt and held it out for Theodosia to see. “I believe you’re looking for a bodyguard, Miss Worth?”
Chapter Six
It was all Theodosia could donot to throw herself into Roman’s arms. Never had she been so glad to see anyone, and she was honest enough with herself to admit that his rescue was only a part of her gladness.
She’d missed him.
That now-familiar warmth shimmered through her. With wide and hungry eyes, she stared at each powerful inch of him, from the crown of his long raven hair to the tips of his dusty black boots.
“Why try to hide it, Miss Worth?” Roman asked as he approached her. “We’ve already talked about that heated tickle of yours. I knew what it was then, and I know what it is now. So stop all that wiggling and tell me if I’ve got the job.”
Realizing she was squirming on the bed, she stilled. “I was not wiggling.”
“You were.”
John the Baptist tossed water out of his cage. “I was not wiggling. Watch out for crocodiles in Brazil. You’ve an amazing understanding of Coleoptera, Miss Worth.”
Ignoring her parrot, Theodosia tried to calm her breathing, which continued to come in pants. “I cannot seem to inhale properly, Mr. Montana. Please open the window.”
He glanced at the shattered window. “It’s about as open as it can get.” Turning back to her, he gave her a crooked grin. “Think if I kiss you again you’ll feel better?”
