Pure Desire [Pure 3] (Siren Publishing Allure) (6 page)

“I thought for a minute there was going to be trouble,” he said.

Channing gave him a lopsided grin and set his hat back on his forehead. Damp dark strands fell in his face and he brushed them behind an ear. “I don’t make it a habit to come into town because there is usually one or two illustrious gunslingers hanging around, aching to prove I’m not the fastest gun in these parts. It’s not a reputation I sought readily,” he said, and shrugged. “Just the way it is. I have learned to ignore the fact some don’t take kindly to my unsolicited title and want nothing more than to kill me to prove they are faster.”

“I don’t understand.”

“A quick gun can make a lot of money. Some just feed off ego and benefit from the fear their mere presence incites when they ride into town. Then there are the overzealous illustrious types who aspire for more than notoriety. The kind of men who enjoy killing…like him, who is always itching for a fight, just so you know.” He motioned to a man standing at the bar.

Noor glanced at the man and gave him the once-over. He did a quick assessment of his attire, black vest, boots with silver spurns, and dark leather chaps. He wore a hat pushed low over his forehead, which shielded him from getting a good look at his eyes. His appearance alone signaled danger. He had encountered his type on Sanguine in the worst parts of the city where the seediest people hung out. The clothes were different, but the mannerisms and the unsettling sensation he felt in the man’s presence told him everything he needed to know. He wasn’t going to turn his back on him. It was obvious the gunslinger ached for trouble.

As soon as they reached the bar, an older man sitting there swirled around on the bar stool. He noticed the starched, white, button-down shirt and shiny tin star affixed to it. An authority man, he thought. He was middle-aged with thick leathery skin and intense brown eyes that examined him like a potential suspect. He turned his attention to Channing.

“What brings you into town at this hour? Not like you, Channing.” He saw the sheriff glance at the gunslinger. His tone sounded weary, as if he thought Channing’s presence would cause all hell to break lose.

The gunslinger was staring at them, a real mean-mug glare, clearly showing he was displeased about something. Channing ignored the man. He kept an eye on him.

Channing leaned against the bar and faced the door at an angle where he could keep everybody in the building in sight. “Good evening, Sheriff Jacob. I would have preferred to keep riding toward the ranch, but I thought it best to stop in town first and warn you.”

The sheriff grumbled beneath his breath. “What the hell now? You gonna tell me you and Harland are at it again? I swear ifn’ Matt Graham don’t heed my advice about his boy, he’s gonna end up dead before his time.”

“Apparently, your advice was ignored. You might want to send someone out to Jasper Creek to retrieve Harland and two of his friends’ bodies.”

“Ah, hell, you gone and finally got around to killing Harland? I don’t know the circumstances, but sad to say, he probably had it coming. He went too far this time, huh?”

“He tried to hang me for an offense I didn’t commit.”

Sheriff Jacob frowned and shook his head. “That boy’s been trouble since the day he was born. I’m just glad his mama isn’t alive to see how rotten he turned out. God bless her soul, she was a good church-going woman, and this would have killed her. Who’s your friend?”

“This is Noor Rynoir. He happened to be passing by and came upon Harland and his cohorts. If it weren’t for him, I might be swinging from a tree about now.”

The sheriff eyed Noor and then nodded.

“Sheriff,” Noor said.

The man furrowed his eyebrows deeply, creating a unibrow. “I haven’t seen you around these parts before, son. Channing said you passing through. Do you mind me asking where you headed? Where you come from, and how long do you intend to hang around these parts?” the sheriff said, inspecting Noor from head to toe.

Channing motioned for two whiskey shots. “Sheriff Jacob likes to keep a tight rein on strangers in town.”

Noor completely understood where the sheriff was coming from and didn’t take offense. Sanguine was a major hub for narcotic transporters. For this reason, each visitor had a retinal scan when importing and exporting. If the person didn’t already register a identification profile, their data was uploaded to the Interplanetary Security Database and an intrusive background check was run. If anything suspicious displayed, the authorities detained the person for further investigation. He understood the sheriff’s inquiries and his technique. T
he sheriff
was checking his credentials the old-fashioned way.

Law officials had an innate knack for catching someone in a lie. Not making eye contact, body language, or a tone could give a criminal away.

He would answer his questions but keep it simple. “I’m afraid my father thought sending me to Texas to purchase land and cattle would keep me occupied and dissuade my wayward youthful antics, which had become a strain on the polite society of the city.”

“I don’t want no trouble, son.” The sheriff’s point was clear. He motioned to Channing and said, “Your mother has sent your father into town three times looking for you. She’s beside herself with worry, just so you know.” His comment was an underhanded way of chastising Channing for worrying his mother.

Channing swallowed his drink and called for two more shots. He sipped, studying the occupants over the rim of his glass. “Duly noted, sheriff. I don’t intend to stay in town tonight. I just came by to inform you about Harland. He was stupid but deserves a decent burial.”

“Uh-huh. I will send Haskell out to Matt’s ranch to tell him about Harland, and he can go and get his son. When can I expect you to be on your way?”

The sheriff was not subtle. When he saw the gunslinger start forward, he understood why. He noticed Channing paid attention to the man but didn’t seem concerned.

“Long enough to have a few drinks and entertain myself,” Channing said, grinning.

Noor watched Channing shift his attention to a petite brown-haired woman who was standing off in the corner. She was attractive, all smiles, and clearly interested in Channing’s attention.

“Now, if you will excuse me, Sheriff Jacob, I believe Mattie is waiting.” Channing finished his drink and started toward the girl. He wrapped his arm around her waist and whispered something in her ear making the girl giggle before he headed toward the stairwell.

Channing paused and called over his shoulder to Noor. “She has a friend,” he said, and then turned his back.

A small pixie-looking girl with large blue eyes, red hair, and a curvy figure came toward him. He stayed focused on the gentle sway of her hips, accentuated in the form-fitting red and black satin corset gown she wore.

She smiled at him, and he wondered how old she was. He was in another time and place that didn’t have a law against mingling with girls he thought were too young to be in her profession, but he didn’t care to fuck some teenager, legal or not.

The girl stopped in front of him, put her hands on her hips, and licked her lips. He reacted like a horny goat. She was a dish, but again his reservations about having sex with a minor surfaced and eased the throbbing between his thighs. That and he wondered if he could potentially be about to have sex with the future Empress of Oridus.

It was at the forefront of his mind when the girl advanced on him, slid her body against his, and leaned in to take a sip of his drink. She wet her lips, ogled him suggestively. He had to contain himself from tossing her over his shoulder and bounding upstairs.

“How old are you?”

The girl gave him a coy smile. “I’ve been told old enough, mister.”

Noor studied her a moment, trying to decide what to do. He reasoned out matters inside his head. If he got her undressed and found she was the target, he wasn’t obligated to fuck her. In fact, there were express orders given to keep his cock inside his pants where the empress was concerned.

The sheriff assumed his hesitation meant something else. He said, “Her name is Suzy, son. She doesn’t bite.”

A man sitting by listening to the conversation snickered, saying, “Not unlessn’ yer wantin’ her to. Suzy ain’t as tame as she appearin, ifn’ you wantin’ a girl like that.” He chuckled.

“I’m afraid I’m not into such.” Noor eyed the lovely. “How old are you?”

“Why, I must be havin’ one of ’em gentlemen type I be hearin’ ‘bout.” Suzy smiled and rubbed against him. “You sure are a tall drink of water and damned ifn’ you ain’t a handsome devil. Ifn’ you staying in these parts, I believe Channing have a right good rivalry for attentin’. I’m twenty-three…is that too old for you?”

Noor put his drink on the counter. “On the contrary, it’s perfect,” he murmured.

As he led Suzy toward the stairs, he wondered if she would think him insane if he asked about any personal markings on her body. Then he heard a movement behind him. He froze and slowly turned around and faced the gunslinger. “Can I help you?” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

Suzy slammed her hands on her hips. She glared at the man. “Now, don’t you go and try to start no trouble, Wiley. This ain’t ’bout you. I’m not your girl.”

“You shut your mouth, Suzy. This is between me and the half-breed.”

Noor’s eyes narrowed and darkened. “I don’t want any trouble, but that doesn’t mean I won’t entertain you if you are foolish enough to draw your gun.”

He was foolish
. Wiley withdrew his gun. Noor countered and pressed the tip of his pistol against the man’s forehead and cocked it in one fluid motion. The swiftness with which he unsheathed his weapon seemed to startle the man. He stared bulge-eyed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, as he gawked at the steel cockeyed. He started stammering.

“So, we have an understanding?” Noor said. The man nodded. He released the trigger and stepped back.

“Whew, mister, I hope you’re as good in bed as you are with ’em fancy pistol you got.”

Noor grinned and encircled her waist with his arm. He leaned in close, and the heat of his lips brushed her earlobe. He whispered, “Very good, but not as fast. Isn’t that what counts?”

Chapter Six

It was late, and the sun had long since settled behind the mountains and shrouded the town in dimness. The streets were quiet except for a few people milling about. The faint glow of a light filtered from a building across the street. The saloon was in full swing. Loud laughter and ruckus came from the establishment when Noor exited the building.

Channing was sitting on his horse, leaning lazily. The rein of Noor’s horse were in his hand, which he tossed at him. “I thought I was going to have to come and save you from Suzy.”

Noor smiled wolfishly, caught the leather straps, and mounted his horse. “The girl was, ah, insatiable. I had no choice but to accommodate her.”

“I’m sure you did,” Channing said, nodding at Suzy who watched from the doorway. “She looks pleasantly exhausted.”

Noor didn’t comment. It wasn’t necessary to explain his rapturous appetite for the fairer sex.

“Well, I hope you got it out of your system. Our ranch is in remote terrain, quite a distance from town, and there are only a few females living there. Consuela is our cook. She is twice your age and feisty as hell. She’s married to one of our ranch hands who thinks she is the hottest filly this side of Texas. If you look in her direction, you will find a bullet in your forehead. Billy is that jealous.” Channing set his horse in motion. “Then there is my mother. She’s an ageless beauty, if I must say so myself. Time has only magnified her graceful attractiveness, much to my father’s chagrin. She still catches the attention of every male when he rides into town, and it accelerates my father’s temper to boiling. You don’t want my father to get his gun, Noor. I have witnessed it before, and the sight is unpleasant. There are servants, but we have a hands-off policy.”