Page 23 of The Bastard Heir (The Gilded West #2)

Slowly and irrevocably her body became aware of his where it touched her.

The hard yet satiny feel of his muscled chest above her.

The heat from his body as it seeped into her pores.

The gentle scratch of his jaw against her temple.

She became aware of him as a man. The same man who’d kissed her.

The same man who’d treated her so gently back on the train.

She turned her head slightly toward him, taking in his shadowed form.

Self-preservation demanded that she harden herself against him and forget this dangerous fascination, but she could not make her body or her heart understand.

She knew the exact moment he became aware that something had changed.

His body tensed and, though he didn’t remove his hand from her mouth, he eased back just enough to look down at her.

Only a faint light came in through the pale curtains, but she could see his eyes and they weren’t angry anymore, and his breaths came faster than before.

The change was so subtle she probably wouldn’t have noticed had they not been so close to each other.

His chest moved with each breath and it brushed past her temple on the way out.

Her blood went heavy in her veins, moving slowly like warm honey to settle deep in her core.

The Bonhams moved on. Their voices receded as they continued their walk around the veranda. Cautiously, he removed his hand from her mouth, but he stayed on top of her.

He took a deep breath, the movement pressing her down into his bed. “Why are you here?” he whispered.

She knew she should shout at him, or at the very least tell him exactly what he could do with his questions, but she tried and failed to conjure her previous anger. “I came to release you from our deal.” She kept her voice low, just in case someone happened by in the hallway or balcony.

He didn’t move, and she knew she must have shocked him.

He really had thought she’d come to get herself compromised.

The knowledge hurt because, while she wouldn’t have gone so far as to call them friends, she really did think they respected each other.

He’d defended her with Mr. Bonham, held her hand when she’d confronted her father, and then there was that kiss.

“Why would you do that?” He still hadn’t released her arms, so she gave them a tug. He relented, and she pulled them down, but he didn’t move to get off her.

“When I made that deal with you, I didn’t realize what was at stake for you.

I didn’t really understand what had happened with your grandfather and why it was so important for you to find the man responsible for his death.

It occurred to me today that instead of being here, pretending to court me, you could’ve been out there looking for Derringer.

I was selfish. I’m sorry.” She took a breath and tried to read his expression.

She could see his eyes but not clearly enough in the dim light to know what he was thinking.

It was only when he let out his breath that she realized he’d been holding it.

The arm that had been pressing her arms above her head curled down so that the pad of his thumb brushed gently across her forehead.

It was such a gentle stroke that she barely felt it, but it sent a shiver through her.

“You’ll do this for me? You’ll keep quiet about what you saw on the train without asking for anything in return? ”

She nodded. “I want you to be able to find Derringer. What he did to you isn’t right and I know I can’t help you, but I want to do what I can to make things easier for you. You deserve to have an end to your pain.”

He cursed under his breath—or she thought he cursed but couldn’t be certain because he’d said it in Spanish—and hung his head.

Before she realized what she meant to do, she took his head between her hands and tilted it back up.

His hair was thick and soft against her fingertips, but she tried not to pay attention to how good it felt. “Castillo….”

“I’m sorry, mi corazón. I accused you of a bad thing,” he whispered.

Her heart clenched at his obvious regret. “I understand why you would think that. I haven’t done much to redeem myself, I’m afraid.”

He was shaking his head before she’d even finished. “You didn’t deserve that. I was angry at myself for the way I kissed you.”

“Why were you angry about that? I…I thought we both wanted it?”

“That’s why I’m angry. I did want it, but I don’t have time for that, for you.

Even if I did…I’d only end up hurting you.

” He shifted and moved off her to sit on the bed.

He tucked the sheet more firmly around his hips and leaned over toward the bedside table, where he struck a match and lit a candle.

The air smelled like sulfur and burning wood.

Caroline was genuinely disappointed that he’d moved away from her, but tried to cover the misplaced emotion by adjusting her night rail and wrapper.

The small candle only lit the area where they sat, but it was enough to give color to the gray night.

He sat in silence, his fists gripping the edge of the bed as he stared down at the floor.

She couldn’t resist taking in the view of his wide chest and shoulders in this new perspective.

She wanted to trace his muscles with her hands to learn all of the hollows and planes of his body.

A pulse beat between her legs at the thought, so she clenched her thighs together and looked down, silently reminding herself that she should leave him alone.

He couldn’t be hers. His bare right foot was next to her left one.

She’d never seen a bare male foot before, she realized with some surprise.

His were wider and longer than hers. His skin was a few shades darker, too.

She didn’t know what he meant by the remark that he’d end up hurting her.

She sensed it was because of the things she didn’t know about him.

That sense that he was dangerous. She wanted to ask him, but her self-preservation was hanging by a thread.

To know more about him, anything about him, could break it.

“I was wrong. Please accept my apology for my behavior.” He was looking at her now, and she nearly caught her breath from the intensity. The look in his eyes was certainly one that shouldn’t exist outside a bedroom.

She nodded, but all she could muster was a weak, “Of course.”

When he didn’t look away, she licked her lips, aware that the strange pulse between her thighs hadn’t lessened.

She became aware that she was completely naked beneath her nightclothes, and this encounter was inappropriate in every way possible, but she couldn’t muster the energy to stop it. She didn’t want to stop it.

“What will you do about school?” he asked, his expression earnest.

Caroline licked her lips again. Her mind churned on his question, but she couldn’t think right now.

What was wrong with her? She was about to jump out of her skin and he sat there, clearly upset, but calm.

He was trying to figure out a solution to their problems, while she was ogling him as if she didn’t have a brain in her head.

Surely he wouldn’t be so calm if he was half as affected as she was.

She pulled her wrapper tight around her, hoping to hide the way her nipples had tightened.

“I’m not sure. I’ll have to think of something.

” To break the tension, she smiled and said, “I’m guessing compromising me is definitely out of the question now? ”

He smiled, a beautiful smile that lightened his face and crinkled his eyes, and his shoulders shook in silent laughter.

The flickering candlelight caught the gold cross hanging on a chain around his neck.

He relaxed his posture and shifted toward her a little, bringing his knee up to rest on the edge of the bed.

The movement drew her gaze and she saw the only true evidence that he was as affected as she was.

His male part bulged beneath the sheet that was stretched tight across his lap, definitely erect.

The knowledge flooded her limbs with a leaden weight and liquid heat pooled between her thighs.

She bit her lip and glanced up at him to see if he’d noticed her looking. He had.

His humor had fled, to be replaced by that look of intensity she now recognized as arousal. “Carolina,” he whispered, and that name in his passion-roughened voice made her catch her breath.

She wanted to be Carolina. She wanted to be his.

Her mind raced in a hundred different directions as he moved in closer.

The weight of his gaze touched her mouth, followed by the whisper of his breath just before his mouth claimed hers.

One strong hand went to her hip, while the other wrapped itself in her braid and he took control of her.

She opened for him, eager to taste him again.

Of their own accord, her hands found his shoulders and she finally—finally—was able to explore his smooth skin the way she wanted.

Her palms roved over his shoulders and down his back, but couldn’t decide on a place to settle because he felt so good.

His skin was warm and satiny, but the muscles underneath were firm and she wanted to feel them all.

Before she realized what was happening, he’d lowered her down on the bed and risen over her, so they were in a similar position as before.

Only this time he didn’t hesitate to kiss her again.

His tongue dipped into her mouth to brush against hers, creating a delicious friction she felt all the way down to her toes and making her moan in the back of her throat.