Margaret held up a hand.“I don’t be needing a saviour, Miss McElroy. I’ve got plans of myown on that front. I am grateful you pay me more than others would,and you treat me as you would any other.” She grinned. “That is,with the same lack of care you do for any other. The only one youtreat any different is the gunslinger, and even then it’s onlyslight. He seems to love it, though.”
Heat burned her neck.“Margaret—”
“Thisdiscourse has turned maudlin, ain’t it? Might be time we returnedto work.”
Hope glanced at thecorrespondence before her. “Might be.”
Margaret smiled, and benther head. Hope tried to focus, but again her thoughts were pulledbetween guilt and Mr Wade—between guilt and Jake.
Day faded, and it seemedonly moments later she was lighting the lamps. Nerves caused hershoulders to bunch, and she pressed a hand against her stomach,wishing it would still.
The knock, when it came,made her jump. Margaret rose from her seat and opened the door toreveal Mr Wade—to reveal Jake. He wore a coat finer than any she’dseen on him, his hat held in his hands and his hair slicked back,highlighting his sharp cheekbones and strong jaw. His gaze wanderedover her before meeting hers, and something smouldered deep inthose dark eyes. “Miss McElroy.”
His voice was like acaress. Skin tingling, her breath left her as a burn started deepinside. “Mr Wade.”
“I’ll be onmy way.”
They both looked atMargaret. The secretary gave them both a saucy grin as she closedthe door behind her.
Silence filled the room.Nerves forced her to break it. “Mr—Jake. Would youlike—”
“We’ll begoing out,” he interrupted.
Confusion drew her brows.“But—”
“I’ll set thepace, darlin’. As agreed.” The corner of his lips lifted. “Neverlet it be said I don’t know how to show a lady a goodtime.”
Abruptly, she realisedshe wore her day dress, not nearly as fine as the garments he wore.“I need to change.”
“Of course,darlin’. Meet me downstairs?”
Dazed, she nodded. “Tenminutes?”
He gave her his slow,wicked smile. “Ten minutes.”
Ten minutes later, sherushed down the stairs, dressed in her best gown, anticipationdriving her. He stood in the entrance, gazing out on the street,but he turned at her step. The hat he’d placed on his head shadowedhis eyes but framed that same wicked-lazy grin as he held out hisarm. “Shall we?”
Placing her hand on hisforearm, she delighted in the feel of the strong muscles under hertouch. “Yes.”
He curled his arm inhers.“Well, now, Miss Hope McElroy. Let’s have ourselves anadventure.”
ChapterThirteen
HOPE MCELROY’S HAND WAS light on his arm.
Keeping his gaze straightahead, Jake ignored the feel of her fingers, the way her touchraced along his skin through his coat and shirt. Such a small touchshouldn’t cause his heart to race and his body to harden, but thatdidn’t seem to matter none. He were breathless, and it were withnothing more than her hand on his arm and the step of her by hisside.
Night had settled overIronwood, the main street lit with lamps burning in windows andsconces and light spilling from saloons and parlours as they plieda raucous trade. The compacted dirt of the ground was damp andfilled with ridges and holes, countless feet churning it during thedaylight hours.
This night was thebeginning of his plan, one that was more than what she’d asked andone he’d spent most of the day determining. From her words asthey’d made their way to Ironwood, it seemed she had few people,and even fewer who she felt close to. Jake would warrant there washer uncle and then no one. Jake couldn’t blame her. He would too ifhe’d lost all he loved to Callihan.
Most of what heconsidered he’d discarded, nothing seeming to be good enough forher. Finally, he’d landed on the idea of courting, as if marriagewere their aim rather than a bed. She deserved to be wooed andseduced, for blushes to pinken her pale skin and her eyes to darkenwith anticipation and lust. He had a need to give her those things,just as much as his need to make her scream and moan.
At the thought of herbeneath him, he shifted. Christ, he needed to think of other thingsif he were going to keep his body under control. Like a fool,though, he risked a glance at her. Her pale hair was scraped backas always, but instead of harshness he noticed the graceful curl ofher eyelashes, that her nose sloped into a slight bump at the end,and that her lips were a pale kind of pink.
Again his body hardened.With a silent curse, he pulled his gaze from her. Goddamnit, hewould keep himself under control even though all he could think ofwas hauling her to him and parting those pale pink lips, tracingthem with his tongue as he filled his hands with her....
Forcing a slow breath, hespoke, if only to goddamn distract himself. “You needn’tworry.”
