A Wanted Man by Susan Kay Law Page B

talking to me again?”
    She shrugged. “The other options are limited. I’ve known the three of them almost my entire lives, and I’ve heard all their stories a dozen times, as they havemine. Once we reach another town I’m sure I won’t be driven to such desperate measures.”
    She had a bit of the devil in her, this one, that peeked out at unexpected moments. Not often, just enough to keep Sam anticipating it. She hadn’t had much opportunity to let that devil out, he decided, but if she ever had the chance to loose it…“So I shouldn’t be flattered.”
    “You can be flattered if you want to. I don’t mind.” The train rolled into a wide curve, shifting the platform beneath their feet, giving the wind an opening that it tore through with vicious enthusiasm. She shivered.
    “You’re getting cold. You should go inside.”
    She shook her head. “I’m fine.”
    “You won’t be for long if you stay out here.”
    But she didn’t move. He could appreciate a stubborn streak. He had a wide one of those himself. More than anything else it was probably what had kept him alive when so many others died.
    But he couldn’t stand to watch her shiver, her delicate shoulders looking so fragile they might snap with the next quake.
    He ripped off his old cotton coat and slung it around her shoulders. She startled as he did so, jerking away, her uncertain gaze flying up to meet his. His hands hovered at her collarbone, tucking the edges of his coat up beneath her chin. It swallowed her up, shoulders flopping halfway to her elbows, the hem nearly meeting the floor. “Your father hired me to protect you from kidnappers and thieves and reporters and other such undesirables,” he said. “But if you die of lung fever, I’m thinking I won’t be getting my bonus, either.”
    “Oh.” Her shoulders drifted down, a relaxation of her stiff posture that seemed strained rather than natural, as if she’d forced herself to soften rather than trulybeing at ease. “I didn’t mean to jump. You surprised me, that’s all.”
    “I’ll try to give you more warning next time.” His hands should be back at his sides. Yet they remained, in that pocket of warmth beneath her chin. He could move them up, down, sideways—any direction but away—and there’d be something worth exploring.
    And Mrs. Bossidy will fly through that door and shove me right off the back of the train , he thought wryly.
    He pulled his hands back. But his fingers brushed skin on the way—neck, the underside of her chin—delicately warm, far more arousing than such a brief touch should have been.
    “Mr. Duncan—”
    “Sam.”
    “I—” She darted a glance back at the train car, where the dragon nun who masqueraded as her companion had left them alone far longer than he would have expected. “I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be polite.”
    “We’re not nearly so formal in the West, Miss Hamilton. Certainly not when addressing our servants.”
    “Servant? Is that what you are?”
    “I’m getting paid to perform a service, so I suppose I am. This week, at least.”
    “Does that mean I can give you orders?” In another woman, he would have been suspicious of that gleam in her eye. But from Laura…surely the orders she was plotting to issue weren’t that wicked.
    How disappointing.
    She took his silence as assent. “Good. Then I order you to go inside and get out of this weather.”
    “You didn’t employ me.”
    She tilted her head, as if scheming to come at the problem another way. “Please?”
    He glanced at the doorway. He could go in for just a little while, maybe. To make her happy and deflect suspicion. He could handle going in there briefly. He could leave at any time.
    Immediately his chest tightened, as if a grizzly had plopped down on top of him. Darkness bled into his vision.
    He swallowed hard and shook his head.
    “If you’re uncomfortable coming into the women’s car alone, at least go into the other car with Hiram and Mr.