Chapter 2

A quick darting glance around the edge of the window, and Prudence spied her target. The gunslinger had his back to her and was talking to a large man who tucked his wrinkled shirt inside his pants and hitched up his yellow suspenders.

When they moved toward the door, she quickly drew back and straightened the hem of her neat, gray-striped jacket. She’d settled on a staid, professional outfit—no use in trying too hard to win an appreciative glance.

She’d only look desperate.

In her hand, she held a copy of her novel. Not the precious dog-eared copy that had been the first to roll off Beadle’s printing press.

This was a fresh copy. She intended to give it to him along with the warning that, however unlikely it sounded, the events within its pages were coming true.

She wouldn’t mention she was the novelist. That would be far too embarrassing. After reading it, he might guess correctly at her infatuation.

Oh, why had she extolled his beauty and gone on and on about the strength of his taut, leanly muscled body? He’d wonder how an innocent maiden lady would know about any fires that heated the loins of the heroine at just the sight of his manly physique.

Never mind he’d figure that out quickly if she couldn’t remember how to breathe. She was about to get her first clear view of that impressive body and handsome face, and her insides trembled like jelly.

The door opened, and the burly man with the yellow suspenders stepped onto the planked walkway, wincing at the sunlight. “Dammit, Jake. A man could go blind this time of day.”

“Quit grousing, Caleb. Next time, watch who you pick a fight with when you’re drunk.”

“Who’d a guessed that little pipsqueak had fists like a hammer.” He rubbed his swollen jaw. “Must have caught me by surprise.”

“I saw the whole thing,” Jake said flatly. “You swayed right into his fist.”

Caleb winked. “Must have felt sorry for him.”

“Whatever makes you feel better. Now get along.”

“Sure have lost your sense of humor since you pinned on that star.”

Prudence’s eyes widened, and her gaze fell to the shining silver badge on Jake’s chest. In her story, he’d been newly elected to the position.

Caleb’s glance passed over her, then paused. He grimaced as he reached to tip his nonexistent hat. “Howdy, ma’am.”

Prudence nodded absently but kept her gaze on the hard-eyed man standing with his arms folded over his chest at the doorway. Her heart fluttered like a butterfly’s wings, and her palms grew moist. Gazing at last into his face, her breath caught.

She hadn’t begun to do the man justice. Feeling a little light-headed and more than a little intimidated by his male perfection, she looked her fill—just so that she could recount this moment later.

But how would she ever capture his masculine, sensual essence?

Standing hatless, his eyes squinting slightly against the bright sunlight, he took her breath away. His thick hair was dark and shiny, like a crow’s feathers. Tied back, it only accented the sharp edges of his face, scraped clean of any softness by years of living in the outdoors. His cheekbones were equally sharp-edged and set high, his eyes black and brooding, his lips a firm, straight line.

While his features marked him as Indian, his skin color was tanned and olive, a testament to his mixed heritage along with his unusual height.

Gradually, she realized she’d stared too long. The remoteness of his expression chilled her. She dared not drop her glance below his square jaw, although she was tempted beyond common decency to do just that. Instead, she lifted her chin and returned his stern glare.

His mouth slid into a small, mirthless smile, and his glance fell first, skimming over her frame, resting a moment on the slight curve of her breasts before quickly dropping down her length and rising again to meet her widening gaze. Her back stiffened; she hadn’t missed the insult in that slow perusal.

Determined not to be the only one discomfited, she gave him a slow, assessing look that trailed down his broad chest. However, the insult she intended to return fell away as she quickly forgot why she’d engaged in the challenge.

The black vest he wore over a pale pin-striped shirt lovingly followed his shape, emphasizing the broad chest and narrow waist and hips. Her breath grew ragged as she paused over the juncture of his thighs, noting the large bulge that started beneath the placket of his dark pants and trailed down the right leg of his trousers.

Her gaze snapped back up to his.

One dark brow arched. “Is there something I can do for you, ma’am?” he drawled.

Prudence gulped. Something he could do? Kiss her breathless? Strip her naked? His glance had already accomplished both.

Thank goodness she had some experience in the carnal delights, or she’d be entirely overwhelmed by his…maleness.

Barely suppressing the urge to fan herself, she stepped inside his office and thrust out the hand holding her novel.

His brows knit in confused irritation. “Thank you, but I’m not one to read that sort of story.” His thumbs slid into the front pockets of his dark trousers, his long fingers bracketing his impressive sex.

He was unnerving her, drawing her attention to the part of him she most wished she could explore—and the bastard knew it! Feeling flustered and angry because he’d managed to turn her curiosity against her, she huffed a breath. “You’re in it,” she blurted, holding the novel higher.

He hesitated, his frown deepening. “All right, I’ll have a look. Later.” He lifted one hand, sliding it slowly over the outside of hers before tugging the novel from her numb fingertips and dropping it on the desk behind him.

As she let her hand drop to her side, her skin still tingled from the contact—so much so that she cupped her hand against her trembling stomach. “Everything in that book is coming true.” She paused and cleared her throat as his expression sharpened. “I know I sound a little…touched, but I felt I had to warn you.”

“I’m pleased you sought me out, whatever the reason,” he said, with that low growling rumble that passed for a voice. He stepped closer, reaching beyond her to close the door, his knees nudging hers through her skirts.

Her heart skipped a beat. Had he intended to do that?

“Is there anything else I can help you with, ma’am?” he asked silkily, not moving away but giving her a look that melted her insides like butter on a griddle.

Although propriety demanded it, Prudence didn’t want to step back. The contact of his hard thigh, sliding along the inside of hers, was too…decadent. Her knees shook, and she clamped them shut, trapping his thigh between hers. A little whimper tore from her throat as her cheeks flooded with heat.

His snort, soft and masculine, accompanied a tightening of his features. Suddenly, he seemed truly dangerous. Wholly male.

Close enough now his breath brushed her lips, a ragged sigh slipped from her. She closed her eyes. This was Jake, after all.

“Damn,” he whispered, and then his lips smoothed over hers. The kiss was sweet but not nearly enough to quench the riot of feelings swelling inside her.

She murmured and leaned closer, letting her aching breasts brush his chest.

His hands settled at her waist, then began to roam, gliding up along the sides of her breasts and then downward to curve around her bottom. At her startled gasp, his tongue stroked into her mouth.

Her thin, aching moan was muffled by his deepening kiss. Then his thigh rose between hers, surging deeper between her legs, pressing higher until it grazed the moistening juncture.

Without thinking, she loosened her grip on his leg and settled onto it, riding the hard, muscled thigh as it pressed upward to rub against her feminine folds until they heated with the friction, and liquid arousal seeped through her pantalettes.

He murmured against her mouth and gripped her bottom harder, rocking her back and forth on his thigh.

Slowly, Prudence lifted her hands to grasp his shoulders, sinking her fingernails into the sharp corners. Her mind reeled as she tasted coffee on his tongue and breathed in the soft scent of sage mixed with the tang of fading tobacco that clung to his skin. Her body tightened while blood rushed to swell her heated sex, and her inner walls clenched.

His mouth lifted from hers, and she moaned a protest. Her eyelids fluttered open to meet his heavy-lidded gaze.

His nostrils flared. A muscle flexed along the side of his jaw, and then he blinked—and drew sharply away, his leg withdrawing. Once again, his hands gripped her waist to steady her as she swayed. “You’ve done your civic duty, ma’am. I’m much obliged.”

“Duty?” she whispered, trying to gather her scattered wits.

“Your warning.”

His words, rough as sandpaper, caused a delicious shiver. “Oh yes, my warning.” She shook herself and added a bit of starch to her own raspy tone. “You’ll read it?”

“Every word,” he said, staring at her mouth.

“Quickly, though,” she said, her breaths panting like an overheated kitten as she struggled for aplomb. “Tonight, there’ll be trouble at the saloon.”

His eyes narrowed; his head canted slightly. “Who are you?”

Her stomach lurched. She’d rutted against him like a cat in heat, and they’d never really been introduced. “Prudence Vogel,” she croaked.

“Prudence?” His gaze skimmed her face. “Seems a fitting name.”

She wrinkled her nose. Meaning it’s plain, like me? Or was he mocking her after she’d all but begged him to take her—here in broad daylight in full view of anyone walking past his office? She wished again she were more like Katarina—more beautiful, more poised. Katarina wouldn’t be at a loss for words after the passion they’d shared.

His hands gripped her shoulders and turned her, and then he gave her bottom a slap.

She yelped and glared over her shoulder, the sensual haze that had held her tongue-tied lifting at her flare of anger. “What was that for?”

“So you’d know better than to stir up any trouble tonight—and stay away from the saloon.”

“I’m not going anywhere near the saloon. There’s going to be a shooting.”

One dark brow rose, and his gaze hardened. “If there is, I’ll know exactly who’s responsible, won’t I?”

Prudence’s mouth gaped, and heat flooded her cheeks as she rounded on him. “You think I’m playing some sort of game?”

“I think you’re trouble. And I don’t abide anyone stirring up my town.”

Watching angry color flood her cheeks, Jake grimaced, wishing he could adjust his cock.

The woman stirred up more than trouble.

Why the hell had he tried to intimidate her? He’d thought sidling up close would turn her on her heels to flee, but she’d gasped, her head tilting back, her eyes fluttering closed. He hadn’t been able to resist tasting those full lips. Damn, but they’d been every bit as soft and pliant as he’d imagined.

The fact she’d let him do much more than kiss her had shocked him. Didn’t the woman know the danger she courted?

However, this ridiculous claim of a dime novel telling the future made him wonder what her real purpose was. Was she just trying to get to know him better, seizing on a slim excuse? The thought was flattering, but he didn’t want to dismiss the possibility of some more sinister reason.

However, the last thing she seemed was menacing or dangerous. She was reasonably attractive with an innocence that had glowed in her wide-eyed stare even as she’d invited his kiss and let him touch her intimately.

That air of innocence was belied as well by how quickly she was recovering her poise. Sure, her cheeks remained reddened, but her glance wasn’t sliding away, and she didn’t seem ready to turn her sweet tail and run.

Her looks were growing on him by the minute. He took in the golden brown hair that curled in soft waves she’d tried to wind into a tight, staid knot. His fingers itched to tug it loose and slip his fingers through the glossy thickness.

Sure, she was as scrawny as a wet hen, but her waist and sweetly curved rump had felt firm, and he wondered if the rest of her would feel the same. His glance slid again to her breasts.

Little more than two fried eggs. But his mouth watered as he wondered whether her little nipples would spike like short penny nails when he sucked on them.

Her dress rustled as she stomped her foot, both hands resting on her slender hips. “Sir, I’m trying to avert trouble.”

He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, attempting to subtly relieve the pressure building in his balls and cock. “I said I’d read it. But right now, I need to find out who fired the shots that caused that runaway stagecoach.”

She bit her full bottom lip. “You promise you’ll read it before tonight?”

“I’ll try,” he said, not wanting to lie outright. He had more important things to do.

She blew out a deep breath and narrowed her eyes. “I hadn’t dreamed you’d be this stubborn,” she muttered.

He reached past her for the hat hanging from the wooden coat rack next to the door and smiled as her breath caught when his shoulder brushed so close she had to reach up to cling to him rather than topple backward.

“Sorry about that, ma’am,” he said, tucking his hand around the curve of her trim waist to steady her once again. “I’m kinda in a hurry.”

Then he swept past her, turned the sign, and opened the door.

“Is it true Buffalo Bill Cody asked you to appear in his traveling show?”

The question was sharp-edged and so disconnected from their previous discussion that he shot her an irritated glance. “Yeah.”

“Why’d you turn him down? He was your friend, wasn’t he?”

“Friends don’t ask friends to prostitute their heritage,” he bit out and slammed the door behind him, leaving her inside his office. He may have been raised in the white world, but that didn’t mean he didn’t give a thought to where he’d come from.

The door opened and shut behind him, but he was already heading fast down the planked sidewalk. Her question had soured his stomach while not easing his growing arousal one bit.

Sharp taps sounded on the walkway as she scurried behind him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” she said breathlessly. “Maybe he didn’t realize you felt that way.”

“You think he’s some kind of hero?” he growled, shooting her a glare over his shoulder.

“He scouted for the 5 th Cavalry…so did you,” she said, trotting to stay with him.

Despite the fact she’d touched on a sore subject, her persistence began to amuse him, so he widened his strides to see whether she had the salt to keep up. “We hunted buffalo, killed everything that moved, and left rotting carcasses across the plain. What’s so damn heroic about that?”

“I…guess I never looked at it…that way,” she said, her breaths growing more ragged. “Did it…sour you?”

“Might say that. I don’t like talking about those days. And lady, if you ask about the shootout with Blackjack Mulligan, I won’t be responsible for my language.”

Her chin lifted. “I’m not so…lily-livered.”

Sunlight hit the golden strands of her mud-brown hair and glinted in the gold flecks in her brown eyes as she kept apace.

He couldn’t help himself from responding. The woman wasn’t much to look at, but her curiosity and dogged determination, added to her interest in him, stirred up a mighty heat, which licked along his thickening cock.

The woman didn’t realize just how close he was to grabbing her and dragging her into an alleyway just to see if she’d let him kiss her again.

Which made him mad as hell. The woman didn’t have an ounce of common sense. He slowed his pace, his thoughts quickening.

Was she this open, this intensely focused on every male she met? Did she knowingly leave herself vulnerable to a man’s advances?

Then again, she was from the East. Perhaps men there weren’t quite as raw or as accustomed to taking what they wanted.

In the back of his mind was the seductive thought that perhaps she knew exactly what she was asking for. “Did you already find yourself a room?” he ground out.

“Why yes,” she said, “At the Pendergast Hotel…the second floor—”

“Fine.” He was sure she would have given her room number by the nervous way she blurted the information.

“I hope you’re comfortable during your stay,” he said formally, wondering if she’d take the hint she ought to mosey along before he gave into the urge to hurry her into a dark place.

“Actually, Mr. Pendergast still has my trunk behind the counter. He was waiting for a boy to come and take it up for me.”

He stopped in his tracks and stared. Was she asking him up to her room? He sighed, exaggerating his inconvenience, and turned toward the hotel, letting her follow once again in his footsteps.

As he entered the hotel, Mr. Pendergast’s eyebrows rose. “Mornin’, Sheriff.”

“Mornin’, Simon. Miz Vogel has a trunk you need some help with?”

“Yes, I was waiting for my bellhop to get here. No tellin’ where he’s got himself off to this time. Back’s out again, or I’d have done it myself.”

“I’ll take care of it for you.” Jake walked stiffly behind the counter, grabbed the large trunk by its leather straps, and hefted it onto his shoulder, giving Prudence a nod. “Show me where you want it.”

Her eyes widened. “I didn’t mean for you to go to all this bother.”

“You didn’t? I thought all that hemmin’ and hawin’ about your room was the whole point,” he growled.

“Sir, I was just making conversation,” she said, blushing.

Mr. Pendergast gave them both a sideways glance.

Prudence blushed and turned with a flounce to precede him up the stairs, her head held high. At the top of the landing, she turned to stalk down to the end of the long hallway.

He eyed the exit door at the very end of the hall. “He gave you this room? You know, anyone could walk in from the outside staircase.”

“Well, I have a key, and Mr. Pendergast assured me this is a safe little town now that you’re in charge.” Her hands shook as she unlocked the door. Once she’d managed to fling it open, she stood aside while he entered, clasping her hands nervously in front of her.

“Where do you want it?”

Her cheeks flushed strawberry red, but she indicated with a wave of her hand that he should lay the trunk on the bed.

“What do you have in this thing?” he asked, dropping it on the mattress. “Rocks?

“Some books,” she said, her blush deepening.

“More of those dime novels?”

Her lips pressed into a straight line.

He took her response as a yes, not questioning her taste in literature. “What is your business here, Miss Vogel?”

“Um…research. For a publisher.”

That explained the books. And the questions. So maybe she hadn’t been so much interested in him as a man but as the Western legend—which made him madder. He tipped his hat and strode toward the door.

As his hand reached for the knob, she said quickly, “You will read the novel today, won’t you?”

Glancing over his shoulder, he replied, “Like I said, I’ll do my best.”

She stood looking as though she wanted to say something else. “Maybe if you just read the passage about what happens tonight…?”

He gave another long sigh and turned, leaning his back against the door. “Why don’t you just tell me the short version about what’s supposed to happen tonight.”

Her eyes widened. “Well, I guess I could.” Her eyes shut for a moment, and her brows furrowed as she thought. “Two men will be sitting at a table playing poker. One of them will toss his cards in the center of the table and say, ‘If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you had that ace up your sleeve. No one’s that damn lucky.’” Her eyes popped open. “That’s when the other man will start to rise, and his hand will go to a gun he has in a holster inside his jacket. It’s hidden because no one’s allowed to wear a sidearm in the saloon.”

“That’s right,” Jake said, his eyes narrowing on Prudence. “So, why don’t you save me the bother of waiting until that happens and just give me their names?”

“Because their names won’t be the same as in the story.”

She said it so matter-of-factly, with such confidence, he had no doubt that was exactly what would happen that night.

The question was, why did she need it to happen? To draw him to the saloon? For what purpose? What kind of con game was the lady working on?

The whole time she’d told the story, her face had been illuminated as though relishing the argument and the man drawing on the other gambler. She was a bloodthirsty little thing.

He hadn’t had any plans on being in the saloon that night, but seeing as how she wanted him there so badly, he was curious enough to make a point to be there. However, first, he’d give her a chance to come clean about her scheme. “Miss Vogel—”

“Prudence,” she said, beaming at him. “I mean, I’ve already called you Jake.”

Despite his suspicions, her name tugged at the corner of his lips—because the longer he knew her, the more un -suited her name appeared to be. He shook his head. Damn, maybe he should just let her scheme play itself out. He changed his tack. “You do know Mr. Pendergast is counting the seconds I remain in this room.”

“I suppose you should go then.” She bit her lip.

“Is there anything else you need?” he asked softly. “Before I go?”

Another strawberry blush brightened on her cheeks. “I was just wondering…why you did that…before…”

He knew damn well what she was asking, but the devil in him made him want to force her to say it. “When I did what?”

Her lips pouted with irritation. “When you kissed me.”

Jake lifted one brow. “It seemed an easy way to shut you up.”

Her mouth gaped, and fire leaped for a moment into her gaze. Just as quickly, she gave him an assessing look. “You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”

He let a slow, easy smile stretch his lips. “You think I didn’t want to kiss you?”

“Well, I know I’m no beauty.”

“That’s true. But you’ve got gumption. Makes a man wonder how far it’ll lead you.”

Her golden brown gaze glittered with a dawning excitement, and she drew a deep breath and blurted, “Mr. White Eagle, what if I told you I wasn’t a virgin?”