Eden's Sin (12 page)

The room shrank until there was nothing but Sin above her, his breath rasping
over her, and soft, muted light surrounding the bed.

“
I need you,” he groaned, sucking one nipple into his mouth. “So damn bad.”

“
Yes.” She palmed his firm ass and urged him on top of her. “Now. I need you too.” More than she could even say.

He bumped against her sex, the heat of his cock shocking as he stroked between her folds, spreading her desire onto himself.

“God, you’re so wet.”

“
Yes, for you,” she breathed. “Hurry. Please.”

Her body was tied into a knot, centered on the throbbing pulse between her legs. He grinned, the creased dimple more temptation that she wanted to ignore. And she didn’t have to deny herself this anymore. Raising her head, she licked the hollow, then moved to his mouth.

He groaned and kissed her deep, hard. Then he pushed inside her body, inch by inch until he was buried inside her, stretching her to accommodate his size.

“
You feel so damn good.” He flexed his hips, the strokes slow and easy but his body shaking with urgency. He lowered his head to her throat and nipped the skin before moving to kiss her breasts. “So damn good.”

He did too. Hell, no man had ever felt so good, felt so right, as if he was made to be inside her.
Maybe he was.

Setting a slow rhythm, filled her again and again. He slid his hands to her hips and lifted, encouraging her to wrap her legs around his waist as his pace became faster, harder. Eden squeezed her eyes closed, too much pleasure, too much emotion. All too much—and he couldn’t see, couldn’t know that this meant more to her than it could ever mean to him.

“Eden.” He slowed, then stopped moving, his words a mere whisper across her forehead. “Eden? Look at me.”

She opened
, staring into his dark eyes. He didn’t blink, just watched her, an expression she couldn’t name in his gaze.

“
I want you to know who’s making love to you.”

“
Believe me, I know.” She’d never forget this moment. Not ever.

“
Good.” He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, then gave a deliberate push with his hips.

“
Ah, oh, God, Sin.”

He withdrew, then filled her again.

“I want you to come again when I do.” He slipped his hand between them, his fingers finding her nub, starting a slow circle in rhythm with his thrusts. “Want to feel you squeezing my cock.”

She watched as his eyes drifted half closed, his jaw stiff, his breathing hard and heavy. Shivers shot up her body tight, hot, shivering, his fingers circling, pressing, his cock thick, thrusting, thrusting, thrusting…
rubbing, rubbing, rubbing.

“
Oh, Sin!” Her world shattered.

“
Damn.” His moan was muffled against her neck, buried in her hair, and he pulsed inside her, shuddering, his arms shaking on each side of her head until his weight relaxed atop her. “God, woman, you almost killed me.” He chuckled and nuzzled a kiss to each nipple.

She wrapped her arms around him, unwilling to let his moment go.
“I hope not. I think I’d like to that again later.”

She felt
his lips curve into a smile against her breast. “Oh, I think we can—”

“
Major Bradford!” A male voice echoed from outside in the alley.

Si
n’s head snapped from her chest.

“
Major Bradford!” Pounding rattled the kitchen door.

“
Who is that?” Eden rose up on her elbow.

Sin groaned and slid out of bed, grabbing his britches from the floor
, yanking them on, then slipping on his boots. “Corporal Ballard.” He swiped his shirt from the chair. “I’ve got to see what’s wrong. I told him to come here only in an emergency.”

Eden n
odded and scrambled from the mattress, reaching for her wrapper. “Go, I’ll be right there.”

He turned and opened the door, then turned again and pulled her into his arms for a crushing kiss.
“We’re not finished. Not by a long shot.” He pressed another quick kiss to her lips then ran down the hall.

By the time she secured her wrapper and twisted her hair into a lose braid, Corporal Ballard was standing in
her kitchen, talking in an over-loud whisper.

“
Yes, sir, Major. We caught three of them inside Parsons’ railcar. Two were shot. One’s bleeding bad and won’t last much longer.”

Oh, God, no. No, no, no.
It had to be the Russell Boys. She’d repeated to them the information Floyd had drunkenly shared, the payroll was hidden in Parsons’ desk. And they were headed to his railcar when they left her.

“
Who shot them?” Sin tugged on his boots.

“
Parsons.”

Sin nodded, then turned
to Eden. “I’ve got to go.”

“
All right.” Her head pounded so loudly she wasn’t sure if she even spoke the words. She needed to tell Sin the truth. Now, before he talked to the Russell’s. “Sin, wait. I have to tell you something.” She swayed. Dots danced in her vision.

“
Easy.” Sin led her to the chair. “You look pale. Don’t worry. I won’t get hurt.” He brushed his thumb over her lip. “I’ve got a reason to keep safe now. Someone I can trust with my heart.” He winked and bolted out the door.

“
Sin!” She hurried to the porch but he was gone. Along with any chance she’d had of telling the truth. Along with any chance of a future with Sin.

She
crumpled to the floor. He couldn’t trust her, not with the truth, not with his heart. Nothing. And within the hour he would know that.

Chapter Eight

Sinclair sprinted to Parsons’ train car, his mind galloping in ten directions, his heart pulling him back to only one.
Eden.
Christ, what he wouldn’t give to still be lying in bed with her, loving her.

Did he love her? Not just sex but
love
?

He shook hi
s head and sucked in a lungful of cool night air. He needed to keep his mind on work. After this assignment was done, he would figure out what Eden meant to him.

Running to the end of town, he tried to figure out what had gone wrong. Why h
is plan had gone to shit. The first robbery wasn’t supposed to take place until tomorrow. How the hell could anyone have known he’d brought the payroll in himself only a few hours ago? Only Parsons…

Self-
doubt burned his gut. Had he been completely fooled? Was it Parsons all along? But why? What could he possibly gain by losing this race, by losing his fortune?

“
The prisoners are over there, sir.” Ballard pointed to the far end of the car.

One
young man sat on the ground, handcuffed, bleeding from an obviously broken nose. The others lay beside him on the ground, one groaning while blood soaked the front of his shirt, the other glassy unseeing stare proving him dead.

“
Damn good thing I decided to lie in wait for these bastards.” Parsons puffed up like a rooster, waving his gun toward the thieves. “Otherwise I’d be missing my payroll!”

Sin
clair stomped over to the cocky jackass, not slowing until they were nose to nose. “And just how the hell did anyone know it was there? Who did you tell? Your daughter? Stevens?”

“
Neither! I told no one.”

Sin
clair narrowed his gaze. If the bastard was telling the truth, then why was he acting so nervous? His eye kept twitching, a sure “tell” if ever there was one. Playing poker with the old man would have been easy money.

“
I think we both know otherwise.” Sinclair kept his voice hard, hoping the bluff worked. “If you don’t tell me right now, I’ll arrest you and hand you over to your investors. They can sort it out.”

Parsons’ eyes widened.
“Now see here!” He stepped back and wiped his forehead. “All right, yes, fine. I sent a telegram to my banker.”

“
Damn it!” That meant anyone could be the leak. It was like starting from scratch. “You have ruined—”

“
I had to! The investors froze any monies until the robberies are stopped. I had to use my own funds for this week’s payroll. I had to have some money moved to cover it,” he hissed.

“
Fine. Who is your banker? What connection might he have to your enemies, to Joy?”

“
None. He’s my brother-in-law. I support him. I guarantee he doesn’t want my enterprises to fail.”

“
Who was with you when you sent the telegram? Stevens?”

It had to be Stev
ens. Sinclair had a gut feeling.

“
No!” Parsons scowled. “I had Floyd send it.”

“
Floyd? Your drunken butler?”

“
The man was a telegrapher during the war. He’s capable of sending a damned telegram drunk or sober. And I couldn’t very well have Stevens do it—
per your orders
.” The last words were sneered. “Besides, Floyd is always in the railcar. He probably overhears most of what goes on and I’ve never had a problem with his loyalty.”

S
inclair’s mind whirled, the facts colliding with the possibilities, doubt dancing with strict sensibility. Who made the perfect spy? The person above—or below—suspicion.

Floyd.
It had to be Floyd. Never mind that Parsons and Stevens pronounced the man too simple to spy—that made him the
perfect
conspirator!

Sin
clair reeled and stomped toward the robbers.

“
Hold up there, Major!” Parsons fumed. “Just where the hell are you going? We’re not done talking.”

He ignored the pompous bellows and kept walking.
He had to get information from one of them, find out if Floyd was truly guilty or if Parsons’ had ruined a perfectly good plan.

Ballard waited by the youngest
prisoner, a boy of about thirteen or fourteen. He hadn’t stopped crying the whole time Sinclair spoke with Parsons, and now the pitiful wails filled the night.

“
What’s wrong with him?”

“
That one was his brother.” Ballard pointed to the dead man. “The other one’s their cousin. Russell is their last name.”

“
All right.” Squatting, Sinclair leveled a hard stare at the boy. “What’s your name?”

“
B-bryan.” He dragged a sleeve across his bloody nose.

“
What are you doing here with these men?”

The boy glared at him, his face dirty and smudged.
“I ain’t tellin’ you nothin’.”

“
You don’t have to say anything about your family. I just need to know about Floyd.” Sinclair watched his expression for signs the kid might know something. “Things will go easier on you if you help me.”

“
Who the hell is Floyd?”

“Don’t t-tell him…anything.” The injured man—the cousin—lying next to them, pushed himself into a half-assed sitting position. Parsons’ had winged him in the shoulder, not a fatal wound, but Bryan wouldn’t know that.

“
Your cousin here isn’t going to live to hang. He’ll die and leave you for hanging, so you’d best not take his advice.”

Bryan’s eyes widened.
“W-we don’t know any Floyd.”

“Then who is your contact? Who are you working for?”

“
You keep your stupid mouth closed, boy. Or else,” the man growled.

“
Go to Hell, Tom.” Bryan kicked dirt at him. “I don’t have to do anything you say. You already got Jed killed.” He sobbed.

“
Ballard!” Sinclair waved him over. “Take Tom here and tie him to the front of the railcar. I need to talk to Bryan alone. Might as well send for the doc. I want Tom feeling better for his hanging.”

Ballard nodded, catching Tom by the collar and yanking him to his feet.

“Bryan, you better not say a goddamn word.” Tom kicked and fought against Ballard’s hold. “If you do, I’ll kill you!”

Sinclair squatted down until he was eye level with the boy.
“Bet your brother wouldn’t like Tom threatening you, huh?” Or at least he thought that was how having a brother was supposed to work. Caring, protecting.

“
No. Tom and Jed weren’t gettin’ along none. And now he done got Jed killed.” Tears rolled down his dirty face. “He done hurt Mary Rose…”

“
Who?” Sinclair climbed to his feet and pulled Bryan up. “Do you mean Mary Rose? The little girl from the saloon?”

Bryan nodded
, his eyes huge, shining with tears.

Sin
clair glanced to where Ballard secured Tom. Whiskers, yes, and a bit of a southern drawl. “How do you know he hurt her?”

“
S-she was my friend. Th-the purtiest friend I ever had.” He flushed. “We used to fish together on the creek. But Tom seen us one day and said dirty things about Mary. Then a few weeks ago he come home drunk and said he…he’d…that night…” He shook his head. “He hurt her.”

Damn it. Sin
clair sucked in a deep breath and fought the urge to cut off Tom’s balls. He would hang. For rape, for robbery…but this boy, he didn’t deserve death.

Sin
clair grasped Bryan’s shoulder. “If you tell me what you know about these robberies, I’ll make sure Tom is punished. I can make sure you don’t hang—but if you don’t help me…” Wouldn’t hurt the boy to know what was at stake.

“
B-but I was just the look-out.”

Sin
clair shrugged. “Parsons won’t care. He wants you all dead.”

Bryan started crying again.

“Tell me about Floyd. Has he been informing Tom or Jed when the payroll was coming in?”

Bryan shrugged
. “Don’t know nobody named Floyd.”

It had to be Floyd!
Unless…Floyd was just part of a team. “Then who told Jed and Tom the schedule?”

“
I don’t wanna say. She’s a nice lady.”

She?
By God, it
was
Parsons’ daughter!
Sinclair pulled Bryan farther behind the train car, away from Parsons’ murderous gaze. “She? Do you mean Kate Parsons?”

Bryan shook his head.

“Then who?” Sinclair grabbed Bryan’s sleeve. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me!”

“
Miss Eden,” he whispered.

A roar started in Sin
clair’s ears. “Who?” Surely he’d misheard.

“
Eden—over at the saloon.”

Sin
clair dropped the boy’s arm as if it was on fire and backed away. No, it couldn’t be Eden. Couldn’t be…that would mean she’d…she’d lied to him.
Again.
Worse. It would mean she’d led him along like a moon-eyed pup, tricked him. Listened to him pour out his soul—then made him look like a damned fool.

Just like
Coreena.

A sick feeling soured his stomach
, and he swallowed hard to keep his last meal down. He’d been right all along. Eden had used him from the moment she walked into his tent.
Used
him, distracted him…

She and Floyd were a team.
She used him too. Tonight when he’d staggered out of the kitchen…Eden must have liquored him up, then got him to tell everything he knew about Parsons’ business. But why? Revenge? Money? Was she splitting the payroll with the Russell boys?

He swallowed the thick bil
e choking his throat as his body stiffened, his hands curled into fists. She hadn’t just used Floyd, she used everyone.
Used me. Me!
Whatever a man’s weakness, Eden found it. Whiskey. Sympathy. Sex. Anything she had to do.

Damn it all.

“Ballard! Come over here.” Sin’s voice cut through the crowd.

“Wait,
mister, please don’t hurt Miss Eden.” Bryan swallowed. “She’s nice. She feeds me.” Words spilled from the boy, but Sinclair couldn’t listen. Every word sounded as if it came from under water. Every word, muffled, warped. Every word drowned out by the crumbling of his heart.

“Yes, sir?” Ballard
loped forward and eyed the boy.

“Take Bryan into
our camp. Place him under guard. I’ve got one more person to arrest.” The words cut a bitter path across his tongue, but nothing like the cynical acid burning him up from the inside out. How could he have been so stupid? Let himself be tricked yet again by a beautiful woman?

He
swallowed down the pain and stomped toward town.

No more ridiculous belief in love or honesty. No more lonely nights of longing. And no m
ore aching hope of a future with a wife who he could trust.

Women lied
. Women ripped a man to shreds without batting an eye.

But it wouldn’t happen again. He’d erase her from his mind, from his heart. He’d force the memory of her tears, of her soft body, of her sweet kisses, of…
damn it!
He’d force all of that out of his head.

Then
, once he arrested her and locked her away, he’d take a knife and cut out his damned broken heart.