The Lady and the Lawman (9 page)

Tears
returned to her eyes. “I...I don't know what to do,” Maggie
cried, choking on her tears. “I think I'm trapped.”

“
You're
not trapped. You're coming with me.”

She
stared at him, stunned. “What? Even after I held a gun to your
head?”

“
I
should put you in jail for that.” He saw her pale at the idea. “But
I can’t blame you. And I’m relieved you didn’t shoot me with my
own gun.” He grinned, hoping to gain her trust. “I can't leave
you here with Croft.”

“
I
can’t go with you!” she said anxiously.

“
Why
the he...heck not?” Were all women so damn frustrating and
confusing?

“
I
can’t go off with you. I don’t even know you. It definitely
wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“
Appropriate?”
he repeated as he stood to pace the small room. He ran a hand through
his hair. She was not making any sense. Was it better to stay in a
whorehouse than to leave with him? “I’m the
damne
d
sheriff!”

“
I
should think even your reputation as sheriff would be in jeopardy.”

He
had to shake some sense into this woman. He tried
a
blunt a
pproach.
“Croft will be happy to have Dalton take my place tonight. If he’s
fast, maybe he’ll share you with his men as well.” Staring at
her, he let her debate the alternative. He pushed a bit more when she
remained quiet. Being a little graphic might sway her a bit faster.
“Dalton’s ta
ste
for aggressive sex is a little extreme. I've heard he likes to strip
a woman down and take her roughly. Sometimes
with
his foreman's help. That means you'll be fucking not only Dalton but
Bixby, as well. You'll be on your hands and knees with Dalton behind
you, Bixby in front with your mouth on his—”

“
Enough!”
She raised her hand. “I appreciate your candid and—and crude
description of my other option. In comparison, it seems my concern
for propriety is ridiculous.”

The
image of having her on all fours and fucking her from behind had his
cock stirring once again. Having her mouth sucking him deep had his
balls tightening. His cock, not Dalton's or that crony Bixby. Grant
had every intention of getting her on her hands and knees as he'd
described. Once there, she'd sure as hell beg for it, and then some.
Not tonight, but soon. First, they had to get the hell out of the
saloon.

Since
they were finally in agreement, he was ready to leave. “Do you have
different clothes?”

“
I
have the dress I wore when they took me from the stage, but it's
ripped.” She wiped the remnants of tears from her eyes with the
back of her hand.

God,
she was pretty. And the feeling he had for her now was more than just
lust. Protective.

“
Put
it on.”

She
began to do as he suggested, opening one of the dresser drawers and
pulling out a blue dress. She looked to him. Reading her thoughts, he
turned his back, looked down at his large hands. Imagined the silky
feel of her flesh against his rough palms. How her breasts overflowed
his palms. Oh, what a bounty!

After
a moment, she cleared her throat and whispered, “I need your help.”

Looking
over his shoulder, he could see there was no way to extricate herself
from the corset without assistance. With the laces running down her
back, she’d have to be double-jointed to untie them.

He
took a restorative breath and tried not to think about the pale skin
of her back he exposed with each pull on the ribbon. His knuckles
brushed over her warm flesh. In order to keep from turning her around
and covering her breasts with his hands, he turned his thoughts to
the branding and castrating of cows.

After
an excruciatingly long time, his big hands finally finished with the
last string. She held the corset up in place and offered him an
embarrassed smile over her shoulder. “Thank you.”

Trying
to ignore her thick lashes and mesmerizing eye
s,
he spun around again. Branding irons, scalding cow flesh. Anything
but cleavage, soft skin, luscious, pink tipped nipples. Dammit!

She
quickly finished dressing. “All right.”

He
turned ar
ound.
She wore a blue, long sleeved traveling gown. It was a much more
conservative outfit than the corset and petticoats, except for the
gaping rent in the front she held closed.

“
What
the hell happened to your dress?” He pointed at the front, or what
was left of it.

When
she said it had been ripped, he thought maybe a torn sleeve, but he
hadn't imagined this. Damn, what had those men done to her after
they'd
torn
her dress half open?

“
I
told you i
t
was ripped,” she
cried.

Grant
took the two steps separating them in one. She backed up, fear
flaring in her eyes. But he refused to stop. He had to know.

“
Did
he hurt you?” he demanded, a
s
he looked her over.
He
finally noticed the chafed marks on her wrist he’d seen earlier,
the skin red and raw. Only minutes ago, he'd thought the rope burns
were from rough foreplay and lovemaking. Maybe with Dalton, but no
one else. To imagine her involved in the man's darker sexual
proclivities was almost laughable. “Was he the one that...?”

She
shook her head no. He scowled in confusion. If the man at the stage
hadn't raped her, and Croft hadn't given her to a man before him,
that meant she'd lost her virginity sometime before her plans got all
shot to hell. Interesting. He wondered about the man who left her
confused and still wanting. Damn fool. He could see the curiosity,
the hidden desire buried deeply beneath fear and betrayal. She'd be
hot, wild beneath this touch. He knew that for a fact. It was just a
matter of time before he proved it.

“
He
was rough...” She took a deep breath before she continued. She
recounted all that had happened to her, her captor shooting his
partner, the attempted rape. She finished with the ropes he’d tied
around her wrists.

Afterward,
he was furious, ready to pummel someone. He looked at the red marks
and brushed his thumbs over the tender skin. It would now be his job
to teach her that having her wrists bound only meant submission and
pleasure by his touch, his mouth, his cock. He would erase the bad
memories from her mind and replace them with others so much more
appealing.

She
sucked in her breath at his caress, but didn't break away from his
hold. She’d been lucky she hadn’t been raped. As sheriff, as a
man, it was now his job to protect her.

“
Can...can
I ask you a question?” she asked tentatively.

“
Of
course.” He looked down at her. Her eyes were lowered as if she was
studying her hands still held in his. They were so small, so dainty
in his large ones. Fragile, delicate.

“
When
I was struggling against him, the bad man from the stage, I kneed
him...there.” She paused, trying to find the appropriate words. She
worried her lower lip between straight white teeth.

He
was confused for a moment, but he caught on to her vague words. He
tried not to laugh at her innocence. “There?”

Her
eyes darted to his groin.

“
Th...there,”
she repeated, refusing to elaborate. Her cheeks flushed yet again.
It was quite an appealing trait. “You know where I’m talking
about, don’t you?”

He
nodded, letting her off the hook. “Yes.”

This
woman was a total mystery. Where had she come from? Where was she
heading when the stage was robbed? What man had taken her maidenhead?
Because he hadn't taken her innocence. She was still completely,
naively unaware of anything sexual. She'd forgotten he was holding
her arms, and he wasn't planning on pointing it out. In fact, he was
enjoying the feel of her creamy skin beneath the slide of his thumbs.

“
Well,
it took him awhile to recover. In fact, I thought he was going to
crush me while I waited.”

It
was easy to imagine the situation she’d been in. Attempted rape, a
man whose groin had just been kneed sprawled on top of her.

“
I
thought he’d rape me once he recuperated, but he was so upset.”
She looked to him briefly then bit her lip again, as if contemplating
her words. “He said he wouldn’t be able to...well, he said a
vulgar word—”

“
Fuck?”

She
nodded her head, dark curls bouncing about her shoulders.

“
Yes.
Um...that. Anyway, is it true he was...incapacitated?”

He
did smile then. She’d probably kneed the bastard’s balls up into
his throat. Thank the good Lord she’d been sane enough to do that.

“
Well,
yes, it is true that a man’s—”

She
pulled her hand from his light grasp and held it up. “You don’t
need to go into detail, a yes or no answer was all I needed.”

He
couldn't help but chuckle. She was definitely a lady with quite a bit
of schooling if he hadn't missed his mark. Here in Cranston she was
like a fish out of water. Reminded him of the schoolteacher a few
years back, with her regal bearing and
prim
mannerisms,
although that woman was stout, grim and smelled of vinegar. “All
right, then.” He smirked. “Yes.”

He
undid the star on his shirt and pinned the two halves of her dress
together with it, the silver burnished brightly by the lamp light.
His knuckles brushed over her warm neck. “There.” It wasn’t a
great fix; he could still see a fair amount of her creamy skin and a
bit of white chemise, but it would have to do. “Let's get out of
here.”

“
Does
this make me your deputy?” she asked, the corner of her lip tugging
up. There! A hint of a smile. And it made her all the more beautiful.
And right then, Grant felt something. Something besides a need in his
groin.

“
This
makes you...mine. Just mine,” he replied, his voice soft. Their
eyes met and held. He could swear he could get lost in the dark
depths of her gaze.

“
Let's
go.” He held one of her hands. She kept the other one on the front
of her dress. He led her down the stairs, through the noisy saloon,
and barged into the office to the right of the stairwell. They
surprised Croft, who sat behind his desk.

“
What's
the matter, Sheriff? She wasn't to your liking?” Croft asked as he
stood up. “Did she do something to ruin your pleasure?” He
crossed the room to Maggie, clearly ready to punish her for whatever
wrongdoing she’d done.

Grant
kept his eyes pinned to Croft, but felt her move behind him. He held
up his hand to stop the man. “Don't get any closer to her, Croft.
She didn't do anything to ruin my pleasure. You did.”

“
What?
How—”

Grant
cut him off. “Cut the crap. I'm here to take her off of your hands.
How much did you pay for her?”

Croft’s
jaw dropped, his double chin wobbling like a turkey. “I don't know
what you're talking about. What did she tell you? You know these
whores, they're all liars,” Croft blustered, his beady eyes fixed
over Grant's shoulder on Maggie.

“
Here’s
the deal. You tell me the truth and I won’t arrest you,” Grant
hissed. “I can have this place closed down tonight.”