Page 2 of The Runaway Heiress (The Gilded West)

Chapter Two

G ray took a long, final drag from his cigarillo before flicking it and sending it flying in a high arc into the street.

The orange glow of the tip bounced twice before settling in the dirt to slowly burn out.

He wanted his hunger for Sophie to burn out just as easily, but it wouldn’t.

No matter how he tried, he couldn’t forget the hopelessness on her face that morning.

He wanted to think of her as he thought of Jean LaSalle: cold, remote, arrogant.

But she wasn’t any of those. She tried to be stoic but her eyes gave her away; he wanted to know what they hid from the world.

Watching her walk away from him had been harder than it should have been. Even now he could recall the faint trace of honeysuckle she had left behind and how he had stood there breathing it in until her scent too had gone. The warmth of her body still clung to his hands where he’d held her.

He wanted to forget, but his eyes kept drifting to her anyway.

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Nelsons’ mansion, they found her effortlessly among the other dancers.

With her crown of golden hair and deep blue gown she could have been one of the angels on LaSalle’s ceiling.

His gaze drifted down to the way the gown clung to her small waist and then the creamy globes of flesh that threatened to spill from its bodice.

No, he amended, she was too earthy to be angelic.

He forced his gaze from that temptation to her face.

She was smiling, but it was strained and didn’t meet her eyes.

They were turbulent like the pale, clear blue of a mountain stream in spring.

She was dancing with Anton Beaudin. The lustful gleam in the man’s eye was unmistakable and it immediately made Gray angry, though he was her intended groom and had every right to his thoughts.

But the idea of Sophie giving herself to that cocky bastard made Gray want to smash his fist into the man’s face.

His jaw tensed as he turned away from the window.

A vision of her in his own arms flashed through his mind, and he immediately checked the unwarranted thought.

There were many reasons she couldn’t be his.

Not the least of which was that she was the niece of his enemy.

The fact that LaSalle was the meanest son of a bitch he’d ever come across was further deterrent.

He tried to remind himself that this was simply a bad case of lust. The obvious cure for which would be to spend a night—or several—in Victoria House, the elegant gaming hall and brothel across town.

He could probably even find a woman who looked like Sophie if the lights were turned down.

The problem was that he’d still have to see her until the job was done.

He’d still have to stand by quietly as she suffered.

He’d have to smell her honeysuckle scent and endure the kindness in her eyes every single time she walked past him.

He'd be reminded every single day that it was more than lust he felt for her. She awoke something inside him that he couldn’t easily silence.

Gray shook his head and reminded himself he had a job to do. Sophie Buchanan was nothing but a distraction and she’d probably hate him when his task was finished. The sooner she got married the better.

He forced his gaze to the street, taking in every shadow and examining it for a threat. Looking for danger was a habit to him by now. Something he did automatically. LaSalle was a son of a bitch with many enemies and they were liable to be lurking anywhere.

The scuff of boot tread on wood caught his attention a moment before Hunter Jameson appeared from the other end of the wraparound porch.

The Jamesons were LaSalle’s main rival in the copper industry in this part of Montana Territory.

In fact, rumors had been flying that LaSalle would arrange a marriage for his niece with Hunter in a gesture that would join the two empires.

Anyone who thought that, however, didn’t know how greedy LaSalle was by nature. He wasn’t about to share his wealth.

Though Hunter’s father was almost as suspect as LaSalle, Gray had found Hunter to be likable.

They had met once when Gray had intervened with a runaway horse and saved the man from being run down.

Now they were cordial when they met at events around town, usually when Gray was working as escort for LaSalle.

“Evening, Gray.”

“Hunter.”

“I was hoping I’d see you here tonight. I’m heading out in the morning and hoped you’d reconsidered the job offer.”

Hunter had offered him a job on the spot when Gray had saved his life. “I can’t.”

Hunter shook his head. “That’s too bad.”

“Monsieur Sinclair, please, if someone could just take me home.”

Sophie’s voice with its soft French intonations carried to him.

It wasn’t a heavily accented voice like LaSalle’s.

The inflection could only be heard in the occasional word, just often enough to make him listen for it.

Everything inside him stopped at the sound of her distress.

He glanced over to make sure she was okay.

She stood outside the closed terrace doors with her cape around her shoulders.

Hunter cleared his throat, drawing Gray’s attention back to him. The man grinned and rubbed a hand over his jaw. “I think I understand.”

Shit. He had to do better so his attraction to her wasn’t as noticeable.

“I’ve already committed to finishing this job,” Gray said.

“Send word to me if you change your mind.” Hunter tipped his head and hurried down the steps.

“Safe travel,” Gray called after him.

Then he went back to scanning the street, visibly as vigilant as he was supposed to be, but ravenously drinking up the sound of her voice as she pleaded with Sinclair again.

Sinclair, who was in charge of security, stood before her, his back slightly blocking her, so that Gray had to move closer to hear the conversation.

“It’s almost midnight. Supper will be served soon. Don’t you think eating something will make you feel better?” Sinclair was saying.

“I just need to go home…please.”

There was a moment of silence and then. “I’ll need to check with your uncle.”

“Go to LaSalle. I’ll take her.” Gray heard himself offer. Sinclair was usually the one assigned to Sophie’s needs but, as the most trusted gunslinger, he had been ordered to attend a midnight meeting LaSalle had planned later that night with some important men in town for the ball.

Sinclair looked over at him, a glimmer of relief on his face, and gave a nod of thanks. “She’ll be okay with Brand at the house.””

“I’ll be quick.” Gray assured him.

“You remember the safe combination for the jewels?”

“Yes, I have everything under control,” Gray said.

“Good.”

Gray left to get the buggy, berating himself for volunteering.

He was supposed to keep his distance. Anyone else could have been dispatched to see her home.

But there was no reason it shouldn’t be Gray.

No one knew how badly he wanted her. No one knew that he dreamed at night of taking her over his horse and fleeing with her across the plains where no one would find them.

No one knew how very little was stopping him from doing just that.