A dangerous attraction in Montana!

Castillo Jameson has been hunting a murderer for years. The notorious outlaw never expected his search to lead to a standoff on a train—or having to save a beautiful woman caught in the crossfire...

Caroline Hartford has her own troubles—she wants to become a physician, but her parents demand she marry first. Then Castillo arrives at the wedding she’s attending, and Caroline has the perfect solution. She will keep the outlaw’s true identity a secret...if he’ll pretend to be her fiancé!

Outlaws of the Wild West

Pistols at dawn, seduction at sunset!

Meet Hunter Jameson, Castillo Jameson and Zane Pierce. These notorious outlaws make men quake in their shoes and set women’s hearts aflutter wherever their cowboy boots take them!

They pride themselves on their skill in the saddle and their prowess in the bedroom, but now these outlaws will be facing their greatest battle yet as they meet the only women with the power to tame their wild ways!

Read Hunter’s story in

The Innocent and the Outlaw

Castillo’s story in

A Marriage Deal with the Outlaw

Both available now!

And look for Zane’s story, coming soon…

Author Note

One of the reasons I love writing about the Wild West is because it was a place of great change. Towns sprang up overnight, and could become ghost towns just as quickly. Fortunes were made and lost on the turn of a card, or with a stroke of luck at a mine. Back East, people were divided by social structures and class. While that existed to an extent in the West, the barriers against moving up in the world were far easier to overcome. When it came to battling Mother Nature and outlaws, people were more likely to judge a man by his character than his bank account. The same was true for women. Necessity opened up professional opportunities that might have been closed off to women in more established cities.

That’s why I loved writing Caroline’s story. It was a great opportunity to dive into a character who had to overcome strict social and cultural mores to fulfil her dreams. I also loved the idea of Caroline having to find the one man who would support her. Who better than the outlaw Castillo, who’s had to overcome his own share of bias and hardships, to support her in reaching her dream?

If you’d like to learn more about the obstacles women had to overcome in the past, research Elizabeth Blackwell (1821—1910). She is the first recognised female doctor in the United States. A great online resource is American Memory from the Library of Congress. It devotes a section of its website to women’s history.

I hope you enjoy Castillo and Caroline’s story. Please connect with me on Facebook or visit my website at harperstgeorge.com to sign up for my newsletter for sneak peeks and exclusive contests.

A Marriage Deal with the Outlaw

Harper St George

www.millsandboon.co.uk

HARPER ST. GEORGE was raised in rural Alabama and along the tranquil coast of northwest Florida. It was this setting, filled with stories of the old days, that instilled in her a love of history, romance and adventure. At high school she discovered the romance novel, which combined all those elements into one perfect package. She lives in Atlanta, Georgia, with her husband and two young children. Visit her website: harperstgeorge.com.

Books by Harper St. George

Mills & Boon Historical Romance

Outlaws of the Wild West

The Innocent and the Outlaw

A Marriage Deal with the Outlaw

Viking Warriors

Enslaved by the Viking

One Night with the Viking

In Bed with the Viking Warrior

Digital Short Stories

His Abductor’s Desire

Her Forbidden Gunslinger

Visit the Author Profile page at at millsandboon.co.uk for more titles.

For Kathryn Cheshire. Thank you for your insightful feedback and all that you’ve done to help me grow as a writer.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Outlaws of the Wild West

Author Note

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

The problem with having two identities was that someone would eventually figure them both out. Castillo’s grandfather had told him that with a frown when he’d learned that Castillo had started running cattle. It had been about five years ago, but it looked as if the prediction had finally come to pass.

Castillo Jameson, aka Reyes, leader of the notorious Reyes Brothers, lowered the brim of his hat to shadow his face. It was too late, though. The man at the other end of the train car had already recognized him as the leader of the gang of outlaws, wanted for crimes committed much further south than Montana Territory. Castillo could tell it from the stiff set of the man’s shoulders and the way the man’s left hand had shifted to the armrest, holding it in a white-knuckled grip. He tried to keep his attention focused on the scenery out the window, but his eyes twitched back toward Castillo in a nervous glance.

“Damn.” Castillo stretched his leg out a little farther and tapped the boot of his friend, Zane Pierce, who sat facing him. Zane glanced up from the drawing he’d been sketching, but once his dark eyes got a look at Castillo’s face he flipped his sketchbook shut and tucked it into the breast pocket of his coat. Visible holsters weren’t allowed on the train, but Castillo had a knife in his boot and a small-frame Smith & Wesson tucked into his coat. The problem would be confronting the man on a crowded train. Nearly every row was filled with people—many of them women and children—traveling west.

He waited for the man to pretend to look out the window again before nodding to Zane, who glanced over to set eyes on the man before leaning back in his seat. “Son of a bitch,” Zane said with a grin. “We’ve spent years hunting for Derringer. Never thought his son would show up when we weren’t looking.”

Castillo stared at the man from beneath the brim of his hat. He was too wary from years of getting close to his prey, only to face disappointment, to allow himself to hope now.

Zane’s words released the grip Castillo held on his control. His heart pounded like it was trying to beat its way out of his chest, and his fists clenched. Years of searching and they’d never been this close. Not once. His skin tightened like it was suddenly a size too small, but he forced himself to appear calm. “You sure that’s him?”

“Hell, yeah, I’m sure. That’s Bennett Derringer, Buck’s son. That little son of a bitch gave me this.” Zane raised his hand to indicate a pink scar that ran through his eyebrow and down his cheek, narrowly missing his eye. “I’ll never forget him.”

Castillo had met Buck Derringer and his family when the man had partnered with his grandfather. Before everything had gone to hell and Derringer had killed Castillo’s grandfather. Bennett, Derringer’s son, had been a teenager then. This man was young, maybe in his early twenties, with a full beard.

When Derringer had killed Castillo’s grandfather and run off with the money his grandfather had invested in their partnership, the Derringer family had disappeared, leading Castillo to think they’d changed their name. Castillo and his gang had heard tales of sightings, but those sightings had been from disreputable people and led to dead ends. The trail had long gone cold.

Castillo and the rest of the gang had taken a break from tracking him long enough to take Castillo’s younger brother, Miguel, to university back East. Miguel hadn’t wanted to go, but after they’d nearly lost him just a couple of months earlier, when he’d been kidnapped by Ship Campbell, one of the many enemies Castillo had made in his line of work as an outlaw, he’d seen no other choice. He didn’t want Miguel to follow in his footsteps, but what else had he expected? Castillo was the boy’s only living relative; it was inevitable that Miguel would idolize the gang.

What were the odds that they’d find their first solid clue to Derringer’s whereabouts on a train from Boston?

“He’s made us,” Castillo said, mentally tallying the number of people on the car. Too damn many.

“Doesn’t matter. He won’t do anything here. We just keep an eye on him and follow him when he gets off,” Zane said.

Castillo wasn’t so sure. The man looked twitchy. Castillo wasn’t close enough to tell, but he’d swear the way Bennett was tugging on his collar that a bead of sweat had broken out on his brow. Dammit, if only he’d seen Bennett first. They could’ve kept out of sight and followed him without him even knowing it.

“Mierda! He’s on the move.” Bennett had risen and turned to jiggle the door that led to the next car, on his way toward the back of the train.

“Where the hell is he going? It’s a damn train.” Zane asked, rising to his feet just after Castillo did.

Castillo shook his head, trying to keep his composure so no one in the car would be alerted. He nodded his head in greeting as they passed the curious gazes of the other passengers. This could get ugly real quick.

He reached the door Bennett had passed through, just in time to see him jiggling the handle of the door to the next car in the line. It was a passenger car, like the one they’d occupied, but the two after that were cars with private compartments. Things could get difficult if Bennett got far enough ahead to disappear into one of them. No way in hell did Castillo plan to let him hide, but they’d have a lot of explaining to do, knocking on all of those doors. It’d be best to catch him before he could disappear.

Damn, he was supposed to be Castillo Jameson on this trip. He and Zane were headed to the Jameson Ranch just outside Helena, far away from Texas where the Reyes Brothers were known. They weren’t the Reyes Brothers right now, but it looked like they didn’t have a choice. Trouble had come to them anyway.

* * *

Your father and I would see you married, Caroline. This year. Your place in this world is to be a wife and mother first, and a physician second.

I’ve not changed my position on furthering your medical education. With many reservations, I grant you permission, but only with the caveat that you’re wed. If your husband agrees to your education, then go with our blessing.

Your father and I have discussed this. The decision has been made. You are to come home after the wedding and meet the young man I have in mind for you.

With a little luck, we’ll begin to plan your own wedding.

Your loving mother

Caroline Hartford stared at the rumpled letter in her hand. She’d had it for days now, and every time she read the thing it managed to make her chest feel heavy and hollow at the same time. The message had come on the morning before they’d left her aunt’s home in Boston to begin their trip west, a special delivery by courier from her mother who was visiting New York City with friends. What had been a joyous morning of packing and anticipation had quickly soured, those happy feelings replaced with dread and bitter betrayal.

Betrayal. There. She’d finally thought it after all this time trying to name it something else. Her fingers clenched around the thick, creamy paper, but she stopped herself from crumpling it again. Placing the sheet on her knee, she painstakingly ran a finger over each of the creases to smooth them out again and then adjusted her spectacles on her nose.

It had become a ritual. Read it, become angry, crumple it, read it again, take a deep breath and smooth it out. All of that just to put it away and repeat the process when the urge became too overwhelming to resist.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. That thing again?” Her aunt snatched the paper away and stuffed it into her reticule before Caroline could stop her. “I’ve sat here and watched you look at that horrible communication for the better part of a week. Enough, already. You’ll deal with your mother later and that’s that.”

“But Aunt Prudie—” When the woman held up her hand and looked out the train’s window, Caroline realized she sounded like a petulant child and took a deep breath. “I feel betrayed,” she tried again. “Father was so excited when I was accepted into the program.” She could see him now, smiling at the dinner table and talking to whomever they’d happened to have over that evening about how she’d be among the first women accepted into the Boston University School of Medicine. He’d taught her everything she knew and was proud she’d be following in his footsteps. She’d trailed him around in his practice ever since she’d been tall enough to see over the tabletops.

“He’s still very excited.” Prudie turned and ran her fingers over a strand of Caroline’s hair that had fallen free of the pins. “But you know your mother. She’s never approved of your choice.”

It was true. Her mother had never understood the sense of fulfillment Caroline felt when she helped a patient. Caroline suspected that her mother didn’t care, because it wasn’t part of the plan she had for her only child. Perhaps if Caroline had had siblings things would be different, but she didn’t, so all her mother’s hopes of a society marriage rested on Caroline’s shoulders. “No, she hasn’t, and she’s never kept a secret of that. I suppose I thought he would make her see reason. Why didn’t he mention anything to me before the letter?”

“In a way, he has made her see reason,” Prudie said. “She’s not saying you can’t go. Merely that you need to have a husband. And I suspect your mother wanted to send you a letter so you’d have a little time to come to terms with it before seeing her later this week.”

Caroline leaned back against the plush seat and folded her arms over her chest. “It feels a lot like extortion. What husband is going to be happy to marry me and then lose me to medical school come autumn? He’ll be far more likely to forbid me to go. For that matter, I don’t even know of anyone I’d want to marry. I can’t even fathom the ‘young man’ she has in mind. So you see, this is all an attempt to keep me from going.”

Aunt Prudie clicked her tongue and ran her hand over Caroline’s shoulder. “We’ll figure out something. Remember, your father is very much on your side in this. In the meantime, let’s enjoy the trip as we’d planned. It’s your first time out West and you’re missing how beautiful it is. Just look at those mountains. Have you ever seen anything so green in your life?”

Caroline glanced back toward the window. The sun was just starting to set, painting the mountains in the distance with a burnished glow, setting off the deep green of the shadows. “I’m sorry I’m being so gloomy.” Aunt Prudie was right. There was no reason to allow her troubles at home to interfere with their adventure.

“Don’t be sorry, child. No one wants a marriage forced on them.” The haunted look in her eye made Caroline think that Prudie knew better than most. Her aunt’s marriage hadn’t been the happiest. “I make you this promise right now. You’ll go to medical school come September. I’ll see to it myself.”

Caroline smiled and gave the woman a hug. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. Thank you for putting up with me.”

“Yes, you’re a terrible burden,” Aunt Prudie teased. “Now, go to the dining car and fetch me another scone before they put them away for the night. Fetch your father back, too. He’s probably fallen asleep over the newspaper again.”

Laughing, Caroline rose and paused at the door of their private compartment to look back at her aunt. When her mother hadn’t understood her ambitions, her father’s sister had. People said that she favored the woman more than her own mother. They both possessed the same blonde hair and blue eyes that ran in her father’s side of the family. Aunt Prudie was like her second mother. This trip out West for a family wedding was supposed to be their last holiday together before Caroline went to school and then—hopefully—began taking on more patients in her father’s practice or possibly even the hospital. She’d be foolish to allow a letter to ruin it.

She unlatched the door and made sure it clicked shut behind her before making her way down the dimly lit hallway to the next car. Her low heels barely made a sound on the dark red carpet. The dining car was four cars ahead, but she didn’t mind the walk after being cooped up in that compartment all afternoon. The sway of the train was making her tired, and she stifled a yawn as she jiggled the handle of the stubborn door that led to the next car.

The door flew open unexpectedly, pushing her backward into the paneled wall and knocking her off balance. A bearded man with a crazed look in his eye nearly ran her over in his haste to come inside. She tried to jump back out of his way, but he grabbed her. Before she realized his intention, he’d covered her mouth with his large hand and was pulling her awkwardly with him on his way down the hallway. She clawed at his arm and kicked her feet out, trying to find some purchase on the floor or wall, but he was abnormally strong, or at least, that’s how it felt. She’d never actually been manhandled before.

The man kept looking back over his shoulder, and finally she looked that way, too. Two men had just made their way through the door.

“Hell,” the bigger one said when he saw her.

“Let her go, Bennett,” the calmer one spoke. “This is between us.” His hat was pulled too low for her to see his face, but he spoke with an accent, the vowels elongated a bit.

The man—Bennett, apparently—didn’t slow down at all. He tightened his hand when she tried to scream and pulled her flush against his chest. Something cold jammed against her neck, but for the life of her she couldn’t tell if it was a knife or a gun. She held her breath, so she wouldn’t move and find out. Her entire body had gone cold, like she’d stepped outside in December without her coat, and she realized it was best not to scream so she wouldn’t draw Aunt Prudie from her compartment. She glanced to the door of her aunt’s compartment, willing the woman to stay inside.

Please don’t let Aunt Prudie open the door. The plea repeated itself in her mind as he kept walking backward, pulling her along with him. The two men kept walking toward them very slowly. For all she knew they were bad men, too, but right now they were the only potential saviors she had.

Before she realized what had happened, Bennett twisted her around so that she was pressed flush against the door leading to the caboose. “Open the damn door.” He spoke the words rough, yet low, against her hair, and she heard the unmistakable click of a gun being cocked. She glanced over to see the glint of metal in the lamplight as he trained the gun on the men. “Do it!” he said in an even rougher voice.

Caroline was too terrified to do anything other than what he ordered and struggle to keep a hold on the handle. Between her sweating palms, the swaying of the train and the slightly rusted metal, she had a difficult time getting the handle to turn. When she finally did, she pushed the door open only to feel the cool, outside air rushing past her. There was no railing, nothing to keep her inside, and dizziness overcame her as the ground rushed past. Bennett grabbed her tight, and he switched their positions so that she was once again between him and the two men chasing him.

“Stay away from me, Reyes, or I’ll shoot her. Just try me if you don’t believe me.”

The calm man in front held up his hands as a sign of peace. The big man behind him didn’t budge, he just stared at them with his dark eyes and twitching jaw. Now that a bit of the late afternoon sunlight was filtering into the hallway through the open door, she could see the lower half of Reyes’s face. He had a strong, clean-shaven jaw, and his skin was dark, more olive than tan.

“You won’t shoot her,” Reyes said, his deep voice still calm in the face of the madman. “There’s no need for her death.”

“Her life’s in your hands.” Bennett tightened his grip on her and started moving them backward onto the platform. She had no idea what he intended but she didn’t intend to die today, and she didn’t intend to make any of this easy for him. She refused to stay still and suffer whatever he planned, so she twisted and tried to loosen his hold, her hands grasping at the wood-paneled wall so that he couldn’t pull her out the door with him.

“We only want your father. Tell us where he is and you’re free to go.”

Bennett’s laughter vibrated through her chest, they were so close. “Tell that to your friend with the scar. I bet he’d like to get back at me for that.”

The big man didn’t respond except to clench his jaw even tighter and square his shoulders. The light moved over his face and she noticed the scar. It looked as if something had sliced clean through his skin, narrowly missing his eye, and the wound hadn’t been stitched shut properly. The scar was too broad and jagged to have healed neatly.

Before Reyes could respond, the brakes on the train screeched as it began the long process of slowing down. They were due to make one more stop, though she couldn’t remember the name of the town, before pulling into Helena in the morning. Bennett planted his feet, jerking them back against the change in momentum that pulled them forward and causing them to sway dangerously toward the open door.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of movement. Reyes or the big man moved forward, but Bennett saw it, too. She had no time to react before he was pushing her toward them. Reyes reached out and caught her before she could stumble to the ground. One arm held her tight against his chest, while the other braced against the wall, his legs planted wide to take the brunt of the impact.

She grabbed onto his broad shoulders as if her life depended on it and squeezed her eyes shut, expecting gunfire to erupt. But it didn’t. Her savior’s arm held her tight against his chest, and the pounding of his heart was the only sound that registered. The big one pushed her even further against Reyes as he rushed past them to try to catch Bennett. Though she didn’t know where the man had disappeared to. The door was open but she couldn’t see him.

Her skin prickled hot and then cold as blood whooshed in her ears. She could’ve been killed. That wild-eyed man could’ve put a bullet through her body just as easily as he’d tossed her away. Or, just as horrifying, he could have flung her out the open door of the train, leaving her crumpled and broken on the ground or pulled beneath the wheels. The awareness of how easily things could have gone differently left her shaking, her knees threatening to buckle beneath her.

She pressed her face against Reyes’s coat and took in a deep, calming breath. Oh. He smelled good. She took another breath to get more of his scent. It was clean and masculine with a hint of bay rum. His big hand moved up and down her back in a soothing caress. She let out a long, slow breath, savoring the calming motion.

Nothing horrible was happening. Pushing back a little, she stared into a pair of the most gorgeous eyes she’d ever seen. They were a vivid green, but lit with gold around the pupils and rimmed with dark lashes.

“Are you hurt?” His deep voice rumbled through her, softened with that hint of an accent she’d noticed earlier. Despite what had happened, he was still calm and unhurried, as if her well-being meant more to him than chasing down that madman.

Was she hurt? She did a mental inventory and everything seemed to be in order. “No, I’m not hurt.”

“The bastard jumped.” The big one had been standing there, staring out the open door, but he paced back toward them. He ran a hand through his dark mass of unruly, shoulder-length hair and looked as if he’d just barely stopped himself from punching the wall. “Unbelievable.”

The train was slowing, but it was still going too fast for any sane person to risk jumping. She didn’t want to believe it, but where else could he have gone?

“We’ll find him,” Reyes said, again the voice of reason. “He didn’t fall into our laps for us to lose him. If he jumped, then he’s hurt and we can track him this far from town.” The big one nodded and headed back to the open door to secure it, casting a last longing glance outside before he did.

Now that her heartbeat had slowed a little, Caroline realized that her palms had flattened themselves against the hard chest of the man holding her. His strong hands had moved to grip her waist as he held her steady. As strange as it seemed, she felt safe and reassured in his arms. He wouldn’t let any harm come to her. She was aware that she should move away, yet her body refused to give him up. It craved the closeness he offered. She’d never quite had such a visceral reaction to a man before. And she’d never been held so closely against one. He was hard everywhere, as though his muscles were carved from granite. His fingers flexed into her, and instinctively hers did the same, giving the muscles beneath her fingers a gentle squeeze.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low and a little husky. The r sound rolled off his tongue.

Something powerful moved between them, so unexpected that she couldn’t even name it. It was almost like familiarity and excitement rolled into one, but that couldn’t be. She’d never met him.

“It’s not your fault. I stepped out at the wrong time.” She offered a smile, and he did, too. It was a quick flash of white in the dim light of the hallway, but it was beautiful. His mouth curved up in a flawless crescent that centered her gaze on his perfectly formed lips, the bottom one just a bit fuller than the top one.

She’d just had a brush with death and here she was standing with a stranger and flirting. It must be the shock. Her father had taught her that people sometimes exhibited strange behavior after experiencing a trauma. That was the only explanation for her conduct.

A shadow loomed over them, drawing her attention to the big man. He didn’t seem pleased with the moment they were sharing and raised a brow at her with some sort of implied censure. Then he handed her a pair of folded spectacles, their gold rims glinting in the lamplight, and the action was enough to jolt her back to reality. She hadn’t even realized they’d fallen off in the commotion. She accepted them and stepped back. The man called Reyes dropped his hands from her waist. He didn’t appear as chastened as she felt, though. What was she thinking, standing here with a possible criminal and smiling? She’d come within an inch of getting killed.

He hadn’t looked away from her, either. Even as he spoke, he kept his gaze on her. “Go arrange for our luggage. We’ll be the first off at the station.”

The big man said something in agreement—she could hardly pay attention to him—before he moved between them and made his way through the door to the next train car. Then they were alone and the air thickened with awareness. It sizzled down her spine and feathered out along her nerve endings until her entire body was alive with it.

She’d been kissed before, once or twice at the annual fund-raiser galas her family participated in, but they’d been flirty and hasty, nothing bordering even remotely on the intensity gaining momentum between her and this stranger. Except he hadn’t kissed her. Not in the way she wanted. Dear God, she wanted this stranger to kiss her. What the devil was wrong with her?

Still keeping a firm hold on her gaze, he caught her fingers in his and raised them. His hands were broad and slightly calloused and his skin was dark against her pale fingers. His lips brushed the back of her hand in a featherlight caress, not even leaving a hint of moisture behind. “Safe travels, mi corazόn.”

He dropped her hand and followed his friend. She opened her mouth to call to him, but then stopped when she realized there was nothing to say. Would she ask him to call on her in Boston? Give him—a stranger who’d been chasing an obvious criminal—her name?

There was nothing to do but watch him go. When he’d disappeared through the door, she walked to the door of the compartment she shared with her aunt and paused. She took some breaths and waited for her fingers to stop shaking before she went inside, forgetting all about the scones and her father in the dining car.

Chapter Two

Castillo tensed when the study door opened. He was expecting his brother Hunter to join him, but he was always on alert when at the Jameson Ranch. He didn’t belong here, and no amount of familiarity with the place would change that. His blood might be that of a Jameson, but his heart and soul would always be that of a Reyes, his mother’s family, the people who’d raised him when his father had abandoned them. He belonged in Texas at the Reyes hacienda, not here.

“I didn’t mean to pull you from supper.” Castillo looked over at Hunter and threw back the last of his whiskey. Setting his tumbler on the mantel, he turned from the low-burning fire and crossed the room to pull him into a hug. Even after having known his half brother for the better part of five years, Castillo sometimes couldn’t believe how similar they were. Where Castillo was dark, Hunter was light, but their frames, strong jaws and green eyes had all been inherited from their father.

“We just sat down,” Hunter said, as if he wasn’t bothered. “Why don’t you join us? You must be starving.”

Hunter’s wedding was only a week away and guests had already begun to arrive. Castillo had only just arrived at sunset, tired and irritable from tracking Bennett Derringer in what had been a fruitless effort. It was as if the man had jumped from the train and vanished. Castillo and Zane had found the place they’d thought he landed, and a few footprints leading east, but Bennett had walked on the tracks to hide his path and there’d been no sightings of him in any of the towns farther along the line. The thought of socializing with strangers and making pleasant conversation wasn’t appealing to Castillo. Instead, he’d had a bath and come straight to the study.

“I’m not fit for company,” he muttered and fell into one of the overstuffed chairs before the fireplace.

Hunter poured himself a whiskey and refilled his brother’s tumbler, handing it to him before taking a seat in the other chair. “What happened? Your telegram was vague.” He looked around the room. “Where’s Zane?”

The telegram had only stated that he and Zane had been detained with a possible lead. It would’ve been foolish to say more in a communication that was impossible to keep secret.

“Zane stayed in town at Glory’s.” Castillo had been tempted to stay at the brothel and avoid the houseful of people a little longer, but he couldn’t put off this conversation with his brother. Not with the possibility of Derringer nearby posing a threat. “We saw Buck Derringer’s son on the train. Or, rather, he saw us. He recognized us and ran.”

“Ran? On a train?” Hunter smiled, sitting forward at the prospect of an exciting story.

Castillo shrugged and took a sip of the twelve-year-old aged whiskey he liked. It sat warm on his tongue before going down to heat his belly and ease his tired muscles. “He tried. Ended up jumping off when we were just outside Moreland. We got off at the station and found some tracks, but we never found him. I know he must’ve been hurt from the fall, but he just disappeared. Like his father.”

Hunter frowned into his own tumbler. “You don’t think it was coincidence that he was on the train?”

“It was an accident that we saw him, but he didn’t just happen to be on that train. What are the odds that when Derringer ran away with my grandfather’s money he’d settle here?”

“Zero. We would’ve heard about him moving here.” The Jamesons knew everyone in the area, especially if they were throwing around money.

Castillo nodded. “He’d have been looking to get far away from Texas, but all the signs pointed to California.”

“So, he’s heard we’ve been looking for him and he’s come to find us first?” Hunter said.

“Could be. There aren’t many people left who knew Tanner Jameson when he married my mother. Those who did either died in the war or moved on after it was over. But it’s possible Derringer made the connection and figured out I’m his son. Since he couldn’t find me in Texas, he could be sniffing around up here.”

“Then the ass should know we’re ready for him.” Hunter tossed back the rest of his whiskey and stood up, pacing with excited energy at the prospect of finally catching the man they’d been chasing for the past few years.

“No, Hunter. I won’t have you involved. Your wedding is in a week. Zane and I will go and that will lead him away, if he’s even here. I don’t want to put Emmaline and her sisters at risk. And the guests...” Castillo ran a hand over his head. He hadn’t even thought about all the guests who were due to arrive and the nightmare of protecting them from possible attacks by Derringer and any hired guns the man might’ve brought with him.

“Are you kidding me? It’s my wedding.” Hunter paused in his pacing and held his arms out wide. “You’re my brother. I want you here.”

Castillo sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He didn’t want to miss the wedding, but honestly, avoiding an awkward confrontation with their father held its own special appeal. “I want to be here, too, but not if it’s safer for everyone if I’m not.”

“It’s not safer. If Derringer knows you’re a Jameson then he knows I’m your brother. I imagine he’d be happy to take us all out, because he knows if anything happens to you, Zane and I won’t stop hunting him until he’s dead.”

It had been over three years since Derringer had murdered their grandfather. Hunter had been riding with him ever since to track the killer down. It had made them closer than most brothers, with a loyalty that ran deeper than blood.

But, still, Castillo felt like an outsider in his father’s home, especially now that Hunter was getting married and had his own family to consider. “I don’t want you putting your family at risk for me.”

“Brother?” Hunter waited for Castillo to look at him before finishing. “I never would’ve met Emmy if it hadn’t been for you. You, Zane and Emmy are my family. We stand together to take this man down. Besides, Buck Derringer may not even be here. You only saw Bennett.”

Castillo rose to his feet. “But this isn’t what you meant when you pledged to help me find Derringer. We never meant for the fight to end up on your doorstep. It already came far too close when Ship Campbell and his gang found their way here just a couple months ago.”

“That was my fight, too. It wasn’t just yours. That was about saving Emmy from them as much as it was about getting Miguel back. We fought together then and we’ll fight together now.”

“Together,” Castillo said, grasping his brother’s arm. Perhaps this was ideal. Between the ranch hands and the men in the gang, they’d have enough to take Derringer down. “I promise you, Hunter, I’ll make sure Derringer doesn’t get anywhere close to Emmy.”

Hunter nodded. “We’ll take precautions, but Derringer won’t attack with so many guests here. My mother’s invited her family from Boston, so there’ll be a few arriving every day. Derringer will stay hidden, and in the meantime we’ll quietly figure out where he’s hiding.”

“I already spoke with Glory. She claimed to know nothing, but that’s one reason Zane’s stayed behind. Someone at the brothel will know something...if Derringer is here.”

“Damn right. I bet we find Derringer before he knows what hit him.”

Castillo laughed, his mood improving for the first time since losing Bennett on the train.

“Come on. Let’s get you fed.” Hunter slapped him on the back and led the way toward the dining room.

Castillo followed, his belly grumbling as he anticipated Willy’s famous biscuits with the buffalo-berry jam she made to go with them. He’d been hooked on them ever since the housekeeper made them for him the first time he’d come home with Hunter. They’d make suffering through useless conversation with a few guests worth it.

Hunter put his hand on the crystal doorknob but paused before opening the door to the dining room. “The old man’s inside.”

Castillo took in a sharp breath through his nose. He hadn’t seen his father since his first visit after his mother’s death. Her last request had been for Castillo to go meet his father, so he’d gone to honor her, but Castillo had had nothing to say to the man who’d abandoned him and his mother. Though he’d known it was inevitable that he’d see Tanner Jameson this week, he’d managed to push the reality of that aside. Now it was time to face it.

He let the breath out slowly, forcing the tension in his shoulders away. Be civil. Avoid him. Hunter deserved that much from Castillo. “Let’s get it over with.”

Hunter smiled and opened the door.

The candlelight from the large chandelier overhead wrapped the room in a warm glow. He’d eaten meals here many times when Tanner had been out of town but had never seen the room like this. Several candelabras sat at intervals down the middle of the table, light from the candles flickering off the pristine white tablecloth and glinting off the silverware. The candles created an intimacy that hadn’t existed before. Or perhaps it was that the table was large enough for twelve but only set for five people. They were all gathered at one end.

Tanner sat at the head, in the middle of telling one of his elaborate stories, but paused when he caught sight of Castillo. His mouth hung open, a momentary lapse in composure, before he pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. “Castillo. What a pleasant surprise.”

Emmy sat to his right, with Hunter’s place vacant beside her. Two blonde women sat across from them, one of them a bit older, but Castillo didn’t pay them much attention. He opened his mouth to reply, but he’d never called the man Father and wouldn’t start now. However, calling him Tanner might seem rude with guests present. Damn, he probably should’ve thought this through. “Sorry if I’m interrupting. I offered to wait, but Hunter insisted.”

Tanner started to wave off his concern, but Hunter interrupted. “Ladies, you’ll have to forgive our provincial ways. This is my brother, Castillo. He’s just returned from Boston and we’ve missed him. I didn’t think you’d mind if he joined us.”

“Why, of course not.” The older woman seated at his father’s left pushed back from the table and rose to greet him. “I’ve been anxious to meet your brother. Besides, we’re only on the second course.” She laughed as she offered her hand to Castillo. She had golden hair streaked with gray at the temples, but was still very pretty with vivid blue eyes.

“This is Prudence Hartford Williams, my mother’s first cousin,” Hunter said, an obvious fondness for the woman in his voice.

“Your father has told us many good things about you, dear. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.” Prudence’s smile brightened when Castillo took her fingers in his hand. If he wasn’t mistaken, her sharp gaze took in his shoulders with some appreciation. He couldn’t help but smile back at her.

He was shocked that she’d stood to greet him and that Tanner had spoken of him to her. He was also surprised that she didn’t seem to give his accent and darker complexion a second thought. He’d grown accustomed to the differences between himself and Boston society types, but sometimes those differences mattered to them.

“This is Caroline Hartford, her niece.” Hunter’s voice lowered conspiratorially and he smirked, winking at the women. “They were the only ones of the whole Hartford lot I could stomach during my years in Boston.”

“One would like to think he’s exaggerating, but he’s not. It’s going to be a long week.” Prudence smiled.

Hunter threw back his head and laughed. Castillo smiled, having heard from Hunter how much he disdained his mother’s side of the family. Hunter had been all but disowned by them when he’d chosen to stay out West with his father, who was already estranged from the Hartfords. They’d wanted him to become civilized and live in Boston with his mother. It was heartening to know that some of his mother’s family could appreciate him.

The niece moved, coming to her feet, as well. She had the exact shade of golden-blonde hair as the woman he’d saved on the train. And there’d been a woman passing by on the street in Helena who’d had similar blue eyes. It was funny how often he’d thought about her since that strange encounter. There had been something about her, some look in her eye that had drawn him in. Some instinct within him that had recognized a part of himself in her. It sounded crazy, but when he’d walked away it had been with a deep regret and an acknowledgment that he was leaving something important behind.

When the niece turned to face him all the air was sucked from his lungs.

It was her. She wasn’t smiling at him, like her aunt had, but staring at him with wide blue eyes. Eyes that recognized him as the man—Reyes—she’d met on the train who’d been chasing a man with a gun. Eyes that now knew him as Castillo Jameson.

Mierda. She knew who he was. Aside from the gang and Emmy, no one else here knew about his double identity as leader of the Reyes Brothers. Her knowledge could ruin everything. Hell, not only could it ruin everything, it could get them all thrown in jail or killed. His skin tightened as though he was about to spring out of his own body as his heart tried to pound its way out of his chest.

Her lips trembled, and she parted them twice before finally speaking. His next moments, hell, his entire future hinged on the words she would say. Her voice was clear and strong. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Jameson.” She watched him carefully, her gaze holding fast to his, and he couldn’t look away.

At least she hadn’t called him Reyes. He took her offered hand, and that same jolt he’d experienced on the train moved up his arm to settle in his belly. She was wearing her spectacles this time, the thin gold rims perched high on her nose, making her look more prim and ordered than she had then. Her eyes weren’t wild from excitement, her cheeks weren’t flushed and her lips weren’t parted and gasping for air as they had been when he’d held her in his arms.

As if she was remembering the same thing, her lips did part and she took in a shaky breath. His gaze honed in on those perfectly formed lips the same way he stared a man down when looking for weakness. Only he wasn’t looking for weakness in her. He breathed in deep through his nose, breathing in the lavender scent he remembered from the train. His gaze dropped to the pulse fluttering beneath the pale skin of her neck.

She appeared off balance, just like she had then. Real. He didn’t like prim and proper on her, though she wore it well. She was elegant, with her hair tied up intricately, shining gold in the candlelight. The gown she wore fell just off her shoulders, the tastefully low cut of her neckline revealing just enough pale skin and shadows to draw his gaze to the hint of her breasts. She breathed in and they swelled beneath the pale pink silk. Elegant suited her, but he preferred her real and flushed, like on the train. The strange mix of emotions from that day came flooding back.

He forced himself to blink, hoping to break her spell. Now was not the time to notice her as a woman, as she could easily become an adversary. The silence had begun to drag out noticeably, so he brought her fingers to his lips. “The pleasure is mine, Miss Hartford.”

She took in a sharp breath and stared down at her fingers as if she was afraid she might not get them back. Good. She should be afraid of him. That edge of fear was the only certainty he had that she’d keep quiet for now. It was a fine line. Too much fear could make her reckless. He’d have to play her carefully.

Castillo dropped her hand because Emmy had come around the table to embrace him.

“Welcome back,” she said. “How was your trip? Did you get to see any sights?”

He gave the standard answers: the trip was fine, the food on the train was awful, and yes, he’d gone to a play at the Bijou Theater. The whole time he spoke, he was taking in the reactions around him. He’d had too much practice having to be constantly aware of the mood in the room.

Hunter had noticed that something transpired between him and Caroline Hartford. His shoulders straightened and the smile fell from his lips as he put a hand at Emmy’s waist and pulled her close.

Prudence had noticed, too, though her response was very different. She didn’t know about his other identity and their constant need to be vigilant of danger. She only knew that her niece had reacted to him, and she watched them both now with a gleam in her eye, looking back and forth between them as if she’d had the thought to play matchmaker. He’d have to figure out a way to get Caroline alone before she could talk to anyone. She needed to know what was at risk before she inadvertently revealed the Jamesons were the Reyes Brothers.

Tanner indicated that they needed another place set at the table. A maid who’d been standing at attention along the wall sprang into action, taking a place setting from the glass-faced cabinet at the end of the room. Hunter led Emmy back around to their side of the table.

“Put him there, next to Caroline.” Prudence smiled, already meddling. “I’d love to hear more of what you thought about Boston, Castillo. Caroline loves the theater. We’ll take you next time you visit.”

The woman wasn’t subtle. “That was my first and only visit, senora.” Castillo waited for the women to sit, before daring a glance at his father and taking his own seat. Tanner didn’t seem to notice that Caroline had had a reaction to him. His brow was furrowed, but his thoughts seemed to be turned inward. Castillo wasn’t looking forward to the after-dinner confrontation they were certain to have. He hadn’t seen Tanner in years. The man would certainly want to speak to him.

“Welcome home, Mr. Jameson.” The maid murmured near his ear as she leaned forward to place a glass of wine on the table for him.

He nearly smiled but only inclined his head. “Mary.” Most of the time the household ran with a skeleton staff, but she must’ve been brought from town due to the extra guests. She usually worked for Glory at Victoria House, not in the brothel upstairs, but serving drinks and beefsteaks downstairs in the various dining rooms. Though she’d made it clear to him several times that she’d be willing to make herself available for more. What would the uptight guests from Boston think if they knew a serving girl from a brothel was serving them their dinner?

She stepped back and a bowl of pea soup was placed in front of him. He’d been starving, but now he felt too damned tired and anxious to eat. His shoulders were tight, and he was on edge, so attuned to Caroline Hartford at his side that he was aware of every breath she took. Every time she gathered one in, he tensed, knowing that this time she’d tell everyone at the table what she knew. It wasn’t until she resumed eating her half-finished bowl of soup that he relaxed enough to pick up his own spoon.

Caroline. The name didn’t suit the woman he’d held on the train. She’d been bold and only barely fazed by the ordeal. This woman was a little afraid, but not subdued. Her brow was furrowed and her shoulders tense. She was quiet because she was plotting. He could practically hear her thoughts churning. It was an unpredictable combination that kept him worried.

“May I ask what took you to Boston?” Prudence asked.

“I escorted my younger brother, Miguel. He starts university there in autumn.” Castillo inwardly cringed at the explanation. There was no way to adequately explain Miguel’s existence without labeling either Hunter or Castillo a bastard and Tanner a man with two wives. This was one reason he avoided social interactions with the Jamesons.

Tanner had grown up in Texas and married Castillo’s mother shortly after being injured in the war. It had been a simple ceremony in a chapel on Castillo’s grandfather’s property. But after Castillo had been born, Tanner had been lured to Montana Territory by the promise of wealth in the mines, and he’d forgotten about his first family. He’d soon married Isabelle Hartford, daughter of the wealthy Hartford family from Boston. Unlike with Tanner’s first wedding, however, all the appropriate papers had been filed to prove the marriage was legal and binding. Castillo’s mother had been heartbroken at the abandonment, but she’d eventually moved on and Miguel had been born from a new marriage.

The only hint Prudence gave that she thought the fact he had a younger brother named Miguel odd was when she paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth. She was so poised, with her back ramrod straight, that she didn’t spill a drop. “How wonderful. You’ll have a Harvard boy at your table before long,” she finally said, and carried on as if Castillo hadn’t laid one of Tanner’s biggest scandals at her feet.

“We’re very proud of the boy,” Tanner said. Castillo couldn’t help but glance at him in surprise, but the man’s gaze was on Prudence. Tanner had had enough practice playing the politician in Washington as he fought for statehood that he easily wrangled any awkwardness out of a conversation and smoothed it out. “He’s sharp as they come, if a bit wild from living his life out West. Boston will civilize him.”

“I’ve no doubt of that, but let’s hope he keeps some of that wildness about him. Too much polish dulls the edges. We could use more men in the world like your sons.” She winked across the table at Hunter, who threw his head back and laughed.

“I’ve missed you, Aunt Prudie. Never change.”

“Oh, posh, you can’t have missed me too much. Seems you’ve kept yourself occupied.” She smiled at Emmy and brought her wineglass up in a toast before taking a dainty sip, causing Emmy to blush.

Castillo couldn’t help but smile and took a drink from his own glass. Red wine wasn’t his first choice, but it went down smooth.

Hunter smiled at Emmy, and Castillo wasn’t certain his brother was aware of the naked love and adoration on his face for everyone to see. Emmy practically glowed beneath the power of his gaze. Castillo had to look away from their obvious happiness. He didn’t begrudge them their love, but jealousy tore at him, digging its claws in deep.

It wasn’t that he wanted Emmy for himself; it was that he wanted a wife. He wanted a family, love, devotion, the satisfaction of building a life together. All of that was supposed to have been his before his grandfather had been murdered and his home burned to the ground. In the years since, Castillo hadn’t been able to do anything more than fight to get back what was his. Looking for a wife wasn’t something he could consider right now. Especially when he only had danger and instability to offer her.

Tanner cleared his throat. “Tell us more about your trip, Castillo. How were the Andersons?”

For the first time, Caroline broke her silence. As soon as she opened her mouth, Castillo tensed, prepared to cover her mouth and drag her away from the table if he had to. “Yes, Mr. Jameson, I’d love to hear all about your trip.” She took a sip of her wine and shot him a challenging glance over the edge of her glass.

That glance landed like a punch to his gut. Her eyes shone up at him like sapphires, and he wasn’t sure why she was taunting him, but something in him liked it. A lot. Taking a breath, Castillo launched into a general retelling of his trip to Boston. The tale had the benefit of allowing him to control the conversation, so he didn’t mind, but he kept an eye on Caroline. She made sure her comments were benign, but her eyes snapped at him. She was planning something, but he didn’t know what.

“Did you take the train out?” she asked when he’d finished. Mary had just cleared their plates from the table, and Willy had given them bowls of hothouse strawberries with clotted cream. “Aunt Prudie and I took the number two train. You weren’t on that train, by chance? How serendipitous it would’ve been.”

Castillo clenched his jaw so tightly he nearly saw stars. She was playing with fire, and she damn well knew it judging from the glint in her eye. He shook his head but was saved from responding by Prudence.

“Oh, that would’ve been lovely. It was a beautiful trip.” She described the scenery they’d passed, leaving Castillo to glare at her niece. Caroline merely glared back.

Dessert was mercifully short, and then Emmy suggested they all retire to the front porch for brandy. Castillo gritted his teeth as he wondered how to get Caroline alone. He couldn’t let her out of his sight until he’d somehow garnered her cooperation.

“That sounds lovely, but I’m afraid that I must go upstairs and check on my father,” Caroline said, placing her linen napkin on the table and pushing her chair back to rise to her feet.

Castillo immediately rose and gripped her chair to assist her. “Your father?” How many potential allies did she have?

“Yes, he doesn’t travel well, I’m afraid,” Caroline explained.

“You’ll meet him tomorrow, dear.” Prudence rose. “My brother is a brilliant man, but he’s never taken to travel, and he suffered a brain attack two years ago that only exacerbated the issue. Go on up and check on him, Caro, but then come out and join us. It’s a beautiful night.”

Caroline cast him a glance that had him thinking she intended to go directly to her father and confess everything. For the first time that night, Castillo’s palms began to sweat. He had to talk to her before she saw her father. Desperate to stop her, he grabbed his wineglass and intentionally fumbled it, spilling the expensive Bordeaux across the tablecloth and down her skirt.

She gasped and jumped away from the table, but the damage had been done. The room erupted in a flurry of activity as napkins were gathered to blot the liquid, and the women crooned over the loss of the silk. Caroline’s eyes flashed with fire as they met his.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Prudence was quick to reassure him, but Caroline recognized it as the token apology it was. Her jaw clenched and she didn’t look away from him. She knew he’d done it intentionally.

Castillo caught Hunter’s attention, and gave a brief nod of his head toward Caroline. Hunter had no idea Castillo had met her on the train, but he knew that look and moved to get closer to her. He would be vigilant and stop her before she could say too much. Castillo turned and made his way upstairs to figure out which bedroom was hers. When she retreated to it to change her gown, he’d be waiting.

Chapter Three

The housekeeper, a no-nonsense woman named Wilhelmina, or Willy for short, had appeared to join the legions of hands blotting at Caroline’s stained gown. “Let’s get you out of this gown. I’ll need to get some soap and vinegar on it before that stain sets in.”

In the day and a half she’d been at the ranch, Caroline had come to admire the woman. If anyone could get the wine out, Willy could. Not that Caroline cared overly much about the gown. She needed to get to her room and think about what to do. She’d never thought to meet the strangely appealing man from the train again, and not under a new identity. What did it mean? Who was he, really? Ever since he walked in, he’d looked at her differently than he had on the train. There was suspicion and caution in his eyes, and she didn’t like the change.

Over the heads of Willy and the maid, who were inspecting the stain, Caroline met Hunter’s gaze. He watched her with narrowed eyes, some new awareness there that hadn’t been present until now. Did he know about his brother?

“Mary, go help her out of her gown and bring it to me straightaway.” The young maid murmured her understanding of Willy’s command, and together Caroline and Mary made their way up the stairs. Caroline looked for Reyes’s dark head the entire way, but she didn’t see him. He’d slipped out during the ruckus, which was worrisome because she had no idea what he intended.

Did these people know about the man they welcomed into their home? As Mary pushed her up the stairs, Caroline darted a glance at Emmy, who was standing next to Hunter in the wide hallway outside the dining room and smiling at something Aunt Prudie had said. Emmaline seemed oblivious, perhaps too deliriously happy in the days leading up to her wedding to even know that she’d embraced someone dangerous. Or did she, too, know about Castillo Jameson’s double identity? Caroline was so confused, she hardly knew what to think.

Was he dangerous? Caroline took in a deep breath and tried to think through the facts. The only thing she really knew from the incident on the train was that he and his friend had been chasing a madman who’d had a gun and had tried to take her hostage. The man was obviously dangerous and a criminal to stoop to such actions. But Reyes, or Castillo Jameson as he was known here, hadn’t even had a gun, as far as she knew. It was entirely possible that the madman had stolen from him or slighted him in some way, and that was the reason they’d followed him.

The only problem with that theory was that the madman had known them. He’d mentioned giving the big one that horrible scar and had referred to Castillo as Reyes. Law-abiding men didn’t go by two names. Caroline hadn’t reported the incident because when they got to the station there had been no mention of a man jumping from the train, and she hadn’t seen the point of involving their family name in a scandal and upsetting Aunt Prudie. But, at dinner, Castillo Jameson had clearly been worried that she would mention their encounter. Every time she’d opened her mouth, he’d tensed. And she knew that he’d spilled the wine intentionally as soon as she’d mentioned leaving and going to see her father.

Had she made a mistake keeping quiet? Was he trying to get her alone?

After making their way up the wide staircase, Caroline and Mary reached her room at the end of the long hallway and rushed inside. Caroline half expected to find the man waiting for her, but the room was vacant. She closed her eyes in relief and nearly smiled at her own ridiculous notion. Mary was with her, and he wouldn’t risk approaching her with someone around. She hoped.

The maid closed the door behind them. “Here, miss, turn around and I’ll help you out of this.”

“Thank you, Mary,” Caroline said, and faced the leaded glass door that led out to the second-floor balcony as the maid unfastened the row of tiny buttons along her spine. The door was framed by windows covered with blue velvet drapes. She checked to make sure the toes of his boots weren’t sticking out at the bottom because he was hiding behind them and nearly smiled again at her own foolishness. Though she did glance at the lock on the door to make sure it was turned. It was.

“What do you know about Castillo Jameson?” she asked on a whim.

“Not much, miss. I’ve seen him a few times in town.”

Well, there was no information there. Mary pulled the silk over Caroline’s head before laying it over the high back of the chair sitting in front of the vanity. Then she returned to untie the bustle and unlace Caroline’s corset. When those were put away in the armoire, Caroline said, “Just bring me my wrapper and take the gown to Willy. I can do the rest.” Mary didn’t argue and helped her shrug into the cream silk dressing gown.

When the maid left, Caroline locked the door and leaned back against the cool mahogany to wait for her heart to calm down. Now that she was away from the tension of Castillo’s presence, she’d decided that maybe she was making too much of this. It was entirely possible there was a reasonable explanation for why Reyes and his friend had been chasing that man on the train. She tried to focus on the information she did know. They’d called the man Bennett, so they’d known his name. They’d also been interested in the location of his father. Perhaps the man’s father had wronged them, somehow.

Clearly, she’d stumbled into something larger than a simple theft on a train. She wasn’t sure what to do about it. Just stay calm, Caroline. You can figure this out. Bringing her hand to her chest, she took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. She’d do nothing until morning. She’d sleep on it and probably be thinking more clearly in the morning.

Crossing the well-appointed room decorated in tasteful shades of blue and cream, Caroline checked the lock on the door leading out to the veranda, even though she could see that it was turned. She was being silly, but she felt much better when she found the knob wouldn’t turn and she went ahead and drew the curtains over the door. She even laughed to herself a bit as she walked to the armoire, her hands pushing the wrap from her shoulders. No one was trying to get her. She’d get into her night rail and go to sleep. Everything would seem better in the morning.

“I’d like a moment before you undress.”

Her heart jumped up into her throat and she gasped and turned to see Reyes stepping out of the small washroom attached to her bedroom. He was dressed in his shirtsleeves and suspenders with no coat or waistcoat, as if he’d been about to retire before deciding to pay a call on her. He still wore the dark trousers and boots he’d been wearing downstairs. Tall, with wide shoulders, his chest roped with muscle beneath his shirt, he seemed to take up most of the space in the room and all of the available air. She had to force a breath into her tightened chest. “What are you doing in my bedroom?”

He turned his hands palms out to show he wasn’t armed, though he left them at his sides. A quick glance to his hips and waistband found no weapon stowed there. “I want to talk to you, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t scream.”

“Why would I want to cooperate with you?” Screaming wasn’t a natural response for her. She very much preferred rational thoughts and actions. But she’d closed the drapes, and now the room seemed very small and very intimate. When he stepped forward, he was closer to the door leading to the hall than she was. They were both an equal distance from the veranda door, but one glance at his long legs and she knew he’d be able to stop her before she reached it.

Perhaps screaming was a viable option in this situation.

“Because I have a man in your father’s room.” He didn’t continue the threat, but he didn’t have to. If she screamed, her father’s life would be in danger.

Her spirits sank to settle like a lump in the pit of her stomach. When they’d passed her father’s room there’d been no light coming from beneath the door, so she’d assumed he’d gone to sleep. She’d been too consumed with her own fears to even worry that he was in danger. Guilt clawed its way past her fear, digging its talons into her heart and giving her courage. “If you hurt him, I swear to God that you will pay,” she said through clenched teeth.

Reyes didn’t move, but something changed in his eyes. It was difficult to tell in the low light of the lamp, but she thought she saw a gleam of respect. Then his lips twitched, one corner of his mouth coming up in a grin that he fought, and she realized that he was only amused. He didn’t believe she had any power to bring him to justice, and maybe she didn’t. “He won’t be harmed, and I swear not to touch you, either. I only want to talk to you.”

“You mean that you want me to do your bidding. I won’t be harmed as long as I do what you want.”

He hesitated and then inclined his head a little in agreement. “I’m certain we can come to an arrangement favorable to both of us.”

Caroline wasn’t nearly as certain. The only remaining door was the one that led to the sitting room. Only it had been turned into a maid’s chamber because of the extra help the Jamesons had hired for the wedding. It was her only hope of getting away from him, so she backed toward it and hoped it wasn’t locked from the other side. “We don’t have anything to talk about.”

She turned and ran, but he was on her before she reached the door. One hand went over her mouth while an arm went around her waist to pull her back against him. It was eerily similar to the way the man had grabbed her on the train and almost sent her into a panic.

“You have no reason to fear me.” His deep voice spoke softly against her ear.

As if the fact that he’d appeared in her bedroom wasn’t a good reason to fear him. She jerked her face away, but he followed, keeping his hand firmly in place.

“I want to explain about the train and who I am. Please, mi corazόn.”

The endearment got to her. For that brief moment, he wasn’t an intruder in her bedroom, he was the handsome stranger she’d met on the train. His voice moved like warm honey through her veins, and his warm body was firm against her back. His strength was reassuring, as it had been two days ago. He was so broad, so strong, that her heart quickened for an entirely different reason as her body began to awaken.

Sensing her capitulation, he slowly lifted his hand from her mouth, but kept his arm wrapped around her waist. The fingers of that hand gently bit into her hip, but not in a way that was painful. His touch was a quiet exploration as each finger seemed to become aware of her with soft pressure. She took in a deep breath and his cologne filled her senses. It was the same as the one he’d worn on the train, only this time she had the presence of mind to examine it. Hints of citrus mixed with leather and a woodsy scent she was certain he must have brought in with him from outside. Whatever it was, it gave her the strange urge to turn around and bury her face in his neck to get closer to the smell. Strange how a scent she’d only smelled once before could be comforting and remind her of how he’d soothed her.

Once his hand lifted completely from her mouth, he dropped it to her arm, where it moved down in a slow, almost absentminded stroke that ended much too soon. She closed her eyes as she tried to contain the shiver that traveled down her spine. This was wrong, but despite her best intentions, she was intrigued by him. She had to remind herself that he was an enemy now.

“In the last few minutes, you’ve threatened my father and restrained me. I’m finding it a little difficult to believe that I have nothing to fear from you.”

His grip on her hip loosened, hesitated and then fell away. A moment later he moved back, putting enough space between his chest and her back that she actually missed the heat of his body. Taking a deep breath, she turned and faced him, looking up a bit to meet his gaze. She was taken aback by the green-gold of his eyes. They caught the glow of the lamplight and seemed even more vivid against the shadowed darkness of his skin.

“I’m sorry that was necessary.” His eyes filled with regret. “We seem to have a knack for being tossed together.”

“That appears to be true, yes.” She pressed herself back against the door. She knew running wouldn’t get her anywhere, but she felt safer, more in control, knowing that she could leave.

“Please sit.” He gestured to the two armchairs set near the windows. “I’ll explain to you what I can.”

She hesitated, but there wasn’t any other option aside from screaming. She’d hear him out and could always scream later, if need be. Nodding, she made her way to one of the chairs and perched on the edge, ready to jump up. He took the other one, his long legs stretched out before him, his shoulders spreading from one wing of the chair to the other.

“I’ve met you as a man named Reyes and now as Castillo Jameson. Who are you?”

“My given name is Castillo Jameson. Reyes is my mother’s family. It’s the name I went by after my father left us when I was a boy.”

He spoke so matter-of-factly that she was inclined to believe him. Something about the image of him as a little boy, abandoned by his father, tugged at her heart. She found herself saying, “I’m sorry about your father.”

The words settled into the space between them. He drew in a breath and his eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but she was so aware of him that she noticed; her nerve endings were alive with his presence. It was wrapped around her with an almost tangible thickness.

Clearing his throat—a deep masculine sound that rumbled through her in a most unnerving way—he said, “It... It’s in the past.”

She nodded. “Mr. Jameson is your father...the one who abandoned you?”

“Tanner is my father.” He nodded.

Well, that explained the two names easily enough. She almost felt silly expecting there to be some darker reason, except he had been chasing a man who’d been afraid enough to threaten her life. There had to be more to this.

She hadn’t met Tanner Jameson before this trip west, but Aunt Prudie had always been his champion. However, Aunt Prudie championed anyone who was on Isabelle Hartford Jameson’s bad side. She despised Hunter’s mother and always had. As far as Caroline knew, the feeling was mutual and stemmed from some childhood slight she was unaware of. She had to wonder how much Aunt Prudie knew of Mr. Jameson’s history with his first wife and child.

“Tanner had just been discharged from the army after being shot in the leg. He went home to Texas and met my mother. They were married, but he didn’t stay around long.”

Caroline hadn’t expected more of an explanation, so could only murmur another, “I’m sorry.” She was angry at her parents for their ridiculous demand that she marry, but she couldn’t imagine not having grown up with them. If her father hadn’t taken so much time with her, she probably wouldn’t have plans to become a physician.

“It’s not important. My grandfather raised me and he was a good man. Honorable. I don’t know who I’d have become if he hadn’t been around to guide me.” His eyes focused on the lamp beside her bed, clearly reliving a memory.

Was Miguel also Mr. Jameson’s son? If Mr. Jameson’s first marriage wasn’t officially dissolved, did that make Hunter illegitimate? It was hardly her business, but she couldn’t quite process the implications. “You said you had a younger brother, Miguel?”

He nodded. “My mother remarried years later. Miguel is my half brother, just as Hunter is. Miguel’s father was a good man, too, but he died only a few years into their marriage.”

Caroline sat back in her chair as she watched him. And now she was feeling silly about her earlier outburst and escape attempt. He’d been kind to her on the train, and he was being fairly open with her now. Of course, he could’ve knocked on her door like a normal person and not threatened her father, so she held on to her anger for those transgressions.

After a few moments of silence, he drew in a deep breath and turned his gaze back to her. “A few years ago, a man my grandfather trusted very much murdered him and ran off with his investment funds. I’ve been searching for him ever since, without success. He vanished. But that man on the train was his son. He recognized us and ran. Unfortunately, he ran into you.”

“I’m very sorry for your grandfather. But you couldn’t knock on my door to tell me this? Ask me to sit in the study with you so we could speak?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

He laughed and sat back in his chair, crossing his legs at the ankle. She couldn’t help but notice how long and powerful he was. “No, I saw the look on your face at dinner. You weren’t going anywhere with me.”

“Probably not,” she agreed. He watched her, a hint of a smile still curving his lips. She felt herself blushing even though she couldn’t figure out why she would, or why her skin felt sensitive wherever his gaze touched. “Still, in the future, I’d appreciate it if you ask for a moment of my time. It’s disconcerting to find you in my room.”

He didn’t reply right away. Instead, he kept watching her with those eyes that were as intense as they were teasing. “I need your promise not to speak to anyone about what happened on the train. Don’t mention the name Reyes. If the man I’m looking for is in the area, I’d rather he not know that I’m here and looking for him. It’d be best if the wedding guests don’t know about that part of my life.”

“But that man, Bennett, mentioned that he’d hurt your friend. Given him that nasty scar on his face. What did he mean by that?”

Castillo stared at her as he shook his head. “That’s not my story to tell.”

Despite her curiosity, that seemed fair. He’d explained the incident on the train and that was all she was entitled to know. “If that’s the entirety of the story, then why do you have someone stationed in my father’s room ready to harm him at your signal?”

He surprised her by smiling broadly, and it transformed his already-handsome face into something breathtaking. Gone was the edge of darkness and the tension. He was relaxed and looked like a man lounging in his bedroom before turning in. She imagined him with a snifter of brandy, smiling at her and talking before they retired to their bed for the evening and...dear Lord, she was losing her grip on reality.

“I lied to you about that. I couldn’t think of another way to make you listen to me. I’m sorry.” He leaned forward then, his forearms on his knees as the smile fell from his lips and his eyes implored her for her cooperation. “I need you to promise me that you won’t tell anyone what happened.”

She’d never been so relieved to have been lied to. Caroline opened her mouth to assure him that she’d never tell anyone. It wasn’t her place to gossip, and besides that, it sounded like it’d be safer for everyone if the man Castillo was hunting wasn’t on the loose. The sooner he was found the better. But then she struck on an idea that made even more sense.

She sat in stunned silence as the plan formed in her mind. It was a bit devious, but her parents had pushed this upon her. What choice had they left her with? Marry someone she barely knew, which could very well ruin the rest of her life? No, this would be better.

“Carolina?” That name spoken in a whisper in his deep, raspy voice made butterflies take flight in her belly. The fluttering of their dainty wings sent ripples of awareness out along her nerve endings. He said the name using the Spanish pronunciation. Caroleena. She quite liked it. “Your promise.”

Licking her dry lips, she said, “Perhaps we could trade. My silence for your cooperation.” Her pulse beat like the wings of a hummingbird against her wrists.

Castillo sat up straight, and his jaw tightened as his hands moved to rest on his thighs. He was clearly unhappy that she’d make any sort of demand on him. Caroline actually did feel a little twinge of guilt, but she managed to squash it down when she remembered the alternative was marriage.

“What sort of cooperation?” he asked.

“Would you allow me to explain a bit about myself before I tell you?” At his curt nod, she continued, “My father is a physician. He has a small practice in Boston and runs a clinic that serves some of the poorer areas of the city. He’s also on the board of a hospital. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve been fascinated by his work. I thought his ability to heal was otherworldly, until I grew up enough to understand there was a whole area of study behind it.”

She smiled at the memory of herself as a child, amazed when he’d taken the wrappings off the arm of one of the servants’ children. The little boy had broken it in a fall from a tree, and Caroline had been sure it’d come out of the wrappings bent and misshapen. But the forearm had been perfectly straight, and she’d been convinced her father was a sorcerer.

“I’ve spent countless hours with him, years observing him work with patients. I worked as his assistant for a few years and have seen patients with minor ailments on my own. I’ve known my entire life that I want to be a physician, too. Thankfully, I have that chance. I’ve been admitted to Boston University’s medical school, and I’m scheduled to start in September.”

He’d been watching her solemnly as she spoke, but now he sat back, relaxing again, though his brow was furrowed. No doubt he was wondering what any of this had to do with him. He rubbed his fingers over his mouth, his fingertips settling on his chin where she could see the beginnings of a bit of stubble. “Congratulations.”

He didn’t say anything else, but Caroline let out a breath, only just realizing that she’d been waiting for him to laugh at her, or worse. Most people looked at her with mild amusement when she told them of her plan to become a physician, as if she were a child they were humoring. Sometimes they went on to lecture her on a woman’s duty being in the home.

“Thank you. Unfortunately, my plan has hit a snag.” She took a deep breath and swallowed against the unexpected well of emotion in her throat. The pain of betrayal was so new and raw that she still found it difficult to talk about.

“The problem is that my parents have decided that they want me to marry first. I’m their only child. I think they’d probably given up hope of ever having a child, so when I came along they indulged me. Or so I’ve been told.”

Her friends had been slowly getting engaged, one by one, over the past few years. Most of her extended family fell into the group that believed she should be engaged, too, now that she was approaching twenty-two.

“My father has had some health issues recently, and my mother has never been in good health. I think they’re worried that if I go off to medical school without being married, then they won’t be around to see me properly wed and taken care of.” She blinked against the tears that welled in her eyes. Aunt Prudie had tried to convince her that that was the reason, that her parents only had her best interests at heart, but it hadn’t sunk in until now.

He took in a breath through his nose, shifting again to rest his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward, his intense gaze holding hers. “Don’t you want to get married, have a family?”

She bristled. It wasn’t the first time that someone had questioned her, and no matter how she tried, she couldn’t seem to accept the question as anything other than an attack on her. As if she couldn’t somehow follow her dream of helping people and become a wife and mother. “Of course, but not now. Not yet.” She did want that. She wanted a husband who danced with her and held her hand as they read the newspaper. She wanted babies with chubby little hands and soft skin.

But if she was honest, the question prodded a deeper bruise. Most of the men she met seemed to be put off by her ambition. What if no man wanted to marry her after medical school? What if that was the reason her parents wanted her married off?

She swallowed past that ache in her throat and looked away from him. She’d seen the beginning of interest in Castillo’s eyes when he’d looked at her on the train, and then again tonight. He found her attractive. She didn’t want to see that interest change now that he knew the truth about her.

The seconds passed, ticked off by the clock on the mantel above the fireplace, and he didn’t say anything. With every bit of will she possessed, she forced herself to meet his gaze. It didn’t matter what he thought of her. It wasn’t as if that little flirtation on the train meant anything.

His expression was unchanged, though, and unreadable. Finally, he said, “You admit that you do want to be married, so why not marry before medical school?”

“It’s not that easy. For one, it would require me to find a husband who is supportive of my choice. You can’t imagine how difficult that is. For two, I don’t know of a man I’d want to marry or who’d be interested in marrying me. Not in the next few months.”

He smiled then, and his gaze flicked over her features and down to her bosom and even lower to touch on her hips. She blushed at his scrutiny. Her face burned hotter when his gaze moved back up to hers and she could see that he appreciated what he saw. His eyes were a deeper green, somehow, and his smile...she couldn’t describe it. It wasn’t lecherous, like the men she sometimes passed in the street in the shabbier parts of town. It was admiring, appreciative, the way one might look upon a much-revered—friend? No, not a friend. It was too intimate for that. A lover?

Her body came alive at the thought, just as it had begun to come to life when he’d had his arms around her. Her heartbeat fluttered, and something pulsed dangerously low in her belly. Somehow, she became even more aware of his presence across from her. His powerful frame radiated heat.

“I won’t believe that you don’t have suitors.” Something about the way he said that, with that hint of an accent and with such certainty, had her squirming in her chair.

“Well, I haven’t.” She stared at her recently buffed fingernails because she couldn’t hold his gaze anymore. “That’s why I need your help.”

“Oh?” He seemed only mildly interested now, and she couldn’t fathom what he must be thinking.

Taking a deep breath to steel her nerves, she said, “I’ll keep quiet about who you are, about what I saw on the train, but I need you to compromise me.”

Chapter Four

Castillo took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. It didn’t help though, because even across the distance he could smell the lavender on her skin. The scent was still on him from when he’d held her against him. His gaze went to her lush mouth, and he imagined how soft her pink lips would feel as they opened beneath his. He closed his eyes before he could imagine anything more, but he only saw her disheveled. All of that golden hair down around her waist, her creamy skin flushed with need.

He’d been attracted to her on the train because she was pretty and kept her wits about her when she’d faced death. He’d admired her then. But this woman...this woman was all of that and more. She stood up for herself, she challenged him and she did it all while making him imagine how great it would feel to have all of that energy focused on him. She was so different from what he’d thought he wanted in a woman, but all he could imagine was how explosive they could be in bed. His eyes shot open and he had to look away from her, but he couldn’t banish the thoughts.

“I’m not in the habit of compromising innocents, Miss Hartford.” She was an innocent, and she wouldn’t welcome what he had in mind.

She was silent, and he finally looked back at her, curious as to her thoughts. She stared at him pensively, her head tilted to the side. He couldn’t tell if she knew the direction of his thoughts, but he couldn’t stop his gaze from drifting down to her soft lips.

“No, I suppose you aren’t, Mr. Rey—Mr. Jameson.” She didn’t look away, even though she blushed, and he knew she felt the attraction between them. Her heated gaze held his for far longer than was appropriate. But, hell, he was in her bedroom, alone, late at night. They’d passed appropriate a long time ago.

“I’m sorry.” She blinked, looking down at her hands clasped in her lap. “I don’t mean to stare, it’s just that... I know this sounds silly, but I feel that I can trust you. I know that I met you on a train while you chased a man with a gun, and now you’re asking me not to reveal your alternate identity or why you’re looking for that man, but—” she laughed “—I do. I look into your eyes and I trust that you are a man of honor.”

He clenched his teeth and swallowed the bitter taste on the back of his tongue. He’d been a man of honor once, but that was long ago. There was too much blood on his hands to ever claim to be honorable again. He hadn’t even been completely truthful with her. Yes, his name was Reyes and he was searching for the man who’d murdered his grandfather. However, he’d conveniently left out the list of crimes he’d committed in that search and the fact that he and his men had somehow become a band of notorious outlaws.

The Reyes Brothers. The papers called them a gang. Castillo had never thought of them in that way. There’d even been a drawing in one of the papers once. Castillo, Hunter and Zane had been drawn with kerchiefs over the lower halves of their faces as they faced down a sheriff. The shoot-out had never happened, though the artist had captured Zane’s scar perfectly. But that was back in Texas, and far away from Montana Territory, where his identity was still secret. Castillo hoped like hell he could keep it that way. Her silence could help ensure that.

He didn’t know why he felt the need to warn her away from him, but he found himself saying, “You should take care in placing your trust. You don’t know me.”

“I don’t,” she agreed. “But I know people, Mr. Jameson. And I know you find me pleasing.” Even in the dim lamplight he could see the blush that rose to her cheeks again. “I know that...that you’ve thought about compromising me, and yet you don’t. Why?”

He shifted again, finding her candor unsettling. “You don’t mince your words, do you?”

She chewed her bottom lip and her eyes shifted across the room toward the cold fireplace. “I’m told it’s a flaw.”

Something twisted deep in his gut. “You’re not flawed from what I can see.”

She smiled, but it seemed sad and hollow, and it slipped away before he was ready for it to go. She met his eyes again with her startlingly direct gaze. “Thank you. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get to sleep. As you can imagine, I have a few things to think over.” She started to rise, but he leaned forward, holding out a hand, though he stopped just short of touching her.

“Wait. I’m afraid I can’t leave until I have your promise to keep silent.”

“And I’m afraid I can’t give it to you. I need to go to medical school, and it appears I can’t do that until I’m either wed or so ruined that no man will want to marry me.”

“You can’t mean that. Even if I were to do as you ask, you’ve said yourself that you want to be married one day. Don’t you think the scandal will follow you for years? Don’t you think that it could ruin your ability to marry in the future?”

She smiled at him then, like he was a simpleton who clearly didn’t understand her argument. “No, I’m not worried in the least. You see, the man I’ll eventually marry won’t care. I don’t plan to marry one of those gentlemen who trots out to our fund-raisers, gives a pretty speech, pledges a donation and then returns to his parties and the theater. I plan to marry a physician or perhaps a professor. Someone scholarly who won’t care for gossip and who’ll listen to me when I explain the circumstances of my being compromised.”

Castillo leaned back in his chair and raked a hand through his hair. Not that he’d ever put himself in the running as a contender for her hand, but had he, she had just shot down all hope. He wasn’t the least bit scholarly. She deserved someone exactly like the man she described. Someone who would listen to her and honor her. “I hope you find such a man, but I imagine that he would prefer it had you chosen not to compromise yourself.”

She shrugged. “Is that your position? Would you prefer your future wife—I’m assuming you’re not married?” At his nod, she continued, “Would you prefer your future wife chaste and pure and all of that?”

“I haven’t thought much on marriage.” But that was another lie to add to the growing list he’d already told her. He thought of marriage more than he wanted to admit.

In his youth, growing up on his grandfather’s hacienda, there’d been a small village nearby. At the ranch’s peak they’d employed so many of the villagers to help with the cattle that they’d built quarters to house them all. His grandfather had even built a chapel, and a priest had lived there year round.

Castillo couldn’t say that he was very religious now. He still prayed sometimes, but he hadn’t attended Mass in years and couldn’t recall when he’d made his last confession. He’d seen his mother married in that chapel to her second husband—with some not-so-subtle persuasion from his grandfather, since her first husband hadn’t been dead—and Castillo had taken it for granted that he’d be married there, as well.

In that life that seemed so far removed from who he was now, he’d been taught that women should be obedient and keep themselves chaste for their future husbands. But he’d also been taught that to take a life was a sin. He couldn’t very well expect a wife who was virtuous when he only had a tarnished soul to offer in return. “I suppose you’re right. It wouldn’t matter so much. I’d assume she had her reasons.”

She adjusted the prim little spectacles perched on her nose before crossing her arms over her chest and narrowing her gaze at him. “And yet you still won’t compromise me, even though you know it’s for my own good? That it’s what I want?”

He shook his head, as much from the need to deny her as the need to deny himself. Something about her—he couldn’t quite put his finger on why he was so drawn to her—made him want to say yes. “I wouldn’t steal from your husband.”

That infuriated her. Anger burned from her eyes as she sat up straighter, gripping the arms of the chair. He had to fight not to smile at how it transformed her beauty from prim and elegant to fiery and almost wild. Dios mio, he wanted to see her wild, to see her lose control of that fire she kept carefully subdued. And he wanted her beneath him when it happened. She was beautiful. She was strength. She was all the things he wanted and admired.

“My virtue doesn’t belong to my husband. It belongs to me. I can do with it what I like.”

He inclined his head in a minor concession. “As you wish. My answer is still the same.”

“Have you considered that it’s possible to compromise me without actually taking my virtue? We could simply arrange to have someone see us in an embrace. It needn’t be very dramatic.”

He hadn’t thought of that at all. Probably because he’d been too busy imagining the act of compromising her. “No, but I wouldn’t insult your honor in any way.”

She wanted to scream at him. He could tell from the way she jerked her head to the side, her jaw clenched tight, and he was tempted to push her until she lost her grip on her restraint. What would she look like raging at him? And, just as quickly, he was back to imagining his tongue on her body, his hands wrapped in that gorgeous hair as she bucked beneath him.

Mierda, he needed to stop. His blood was already starting to rush south, tightening his trousers.

“Fine, then we have nothing more to discuss. Get out.”

Castillo felt the first stirring of panic and his shoulders tensed. He’d been too soft with her, letting her think this was her choice instead of his demand. He kept his voice calm, and didn’t move at all. He’d played enough hands of poker to know not to show his hand. “I could play the role of suitor. Would that help?” He had no right offering to associate his name with hers in any way, but he felt compelled to offer some compromise. It wasn’t right that she wouldn’t be able to continue her education.

Her widened gaze jerked back to his. She was clearly as surprised by the offer as he was. She began to shake her head, but then stopped and a smile spread across her face. It nearly stole his breath away. “Yes! Yes, that’s perfect. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that before. It’s even better than compromise.”

She rose to her feet to pace the length of her room as if she was working out all the details in her head. She practically glowed with excitement, and Castillo shifted in his chair, uneasy with the direction of her thoughts. He’d meant to only discourage other suitors with his attention while she was at the wedding. It had been a paltry compromise, but the only one he could think up. He was actually worried about what wild scheme she’d come up with.

Finally she turned to face him, her eyes bright with enthusiasm. “I have the most wonderful idea. This is what we’ll do.” The smile on her face was so enchanting that he didn’t bother to interrupt her. “You become my suitor for the week. We’ll convince my father that we’ve fallen madly in love. He may disapprove at first, because you’re not from Boston, but I know he’ll come around. Then, after Hunter and Emmy’s wedding, you’ll propose.”

Castillo shook his head emphatically at that, but she kept on talking.

“I’ll accept and we’ll put on the charade of a gloriously happy couple. You’ll voice your support that I be allowed to go to school. We won’t be able to wed until the autumn in Boston—it’ll take weeks and weeks to plan such an affair. By that point, my parents will have to let me attend classes or I’ll risk losing my place. Then, once the semester is under way, we break off the engagement. We’ll have to come up with a compelling reason for that. Something that doesn’t reflect too unfavorably on either of us.”

She adjusted her glasses and resumed her pacing. “I’m sure by that time I can convince them that I must continue my studies. I may have to concede to searching for a suitable husband while I attend, but that’s preferable to not going at all.”

She’d walked all the way to the corner of the room, but she turned then, beaming at him. “Thank you so much for suggesting this, Mr. Jameson. It’s absolutely the perfect solution.”

She looked so hopeful that he hated to disappoint her, but there was no way he was agreeing to this farce. “That is not what I suggested. I’d be willing to agree for the week, up until the wedding, but after that I’m afraid I have to go.”

Depending on the leads Zane found in Helena, Castillo might even need to leave before the wedding to follow up on Derringer’s location. He’d make sure to be back for the wedding, but the possibility that the man was nearby was something that couldn’t be ignored. He didn’t have time for what she wanted.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.