Jillian Hart by Maclain's Wife Page B

the beer and took a sip. The malty brew smoothed over her tongue and reminded her of better days. "I like Emily. I really–" She stopped before she said words better left unsaid. "I might as well be in jail. If you aren't following me everywhere, then one of your deputies is."
    "With good reason."
    "You think I'm going to break my word. Because I'm wanted by the law–" she lowered her voice. "You think Roy Brown's daughter can't be trusted."
    "That's not what I said."
    "I'll have you know every penny I've ever put in my pocket has been earned, not stolen. I hated what my father did and how he hurt people." She shuddered, remembering. "I lived under his rule for the first sixteen years of my life, and I won't live like that again."
    "Your father isn't here, Polly."
    "No, but you are." She took a puff on her cigarette, taking pleasure in blowing another smoke ring. It was the real reason she smoked, the relaxation and concentration it took to make one perfect circle after another. "Now it's your choice. You either lock me back up in your horrid jail, or you trust me to keep Pauline's promise to Emily."
    "You're right. I thought you were going to leave–at first." Ben set down his glass and stared hard into the foaming beer. "It's hard, but I can admit when I'm wrong. I knew it the moment I saw you teaching Emily how to pan for gold in the creek. You were patient with her and you gave her something she hasn't had since her mother died."
    "What?"
    "Dreams." It was all he could do to keep his hands wrapped around the cool glass. He wanted to brush at those flyaway curls always falling in her face, untamed and unruly and as sexy as sin. "It's like a light has gone on in her world."
    "And you're afraid I'm going to leave and take that with me."
    "No. I'm afraid someone is going to hurt you." Ben tapped ashes from his cigarette. "Tell me why you're carrying a loaded gun."
    "Because it's nighttime and a woman alone isn't safe on the streets."
    "You knew I was watching you. You weren't alone."
    She blew another smoke ring, her luscious lips curling like an open-mouthed kiss.
    Desire thundered through him. Hard and hot and heavy. He didn't want to feel this way. He didn't want to love any woman, not again. He stared hard at his beer, at the table, at her hands stubbing out the cigarette. Strong, finely made hands that would know how to touch a man, how to give pleasure.
    He took another drink. "You never take that gun out of your pocket."
    "I keep it unloaded around Emily. You're right. A loaded gun shouldn't be near a child." She bit her lip. "Do you think Dixon will be back?"
    "I think it's a possibility." Ben turned when he heard the door swing open. He didn't like having his back to the door either. "Maybe he'll heed my warning and stay away, but I have a bad feeling about it."
    "So do I." Her chin shot up, trying to look as tough as nails. "I can take care of myself."
    "Polly, it's too late. I've already seen your defenses down." He laid his hand on hers, and his pulse jolted at the contact. "I'm not going to fault you for your soft heart, Polly. Or the fear in your eyes. Everyone gets afraid, whether they show it or not."
    "I'd rather not show it." Her set chin, her unflinching gaze, and her tensed stance all said she was a woman able to take care of herself.
    But the satin ribbon edging her collar was blue, the same shade as her eyes, and it was hard not to notice the dark fringe of lashes above those eyes, and the delicate cut of high cheekbones and a sensual mouth. Her lips narrowed into a compressed line, but it took no imagination at all to see the vulnerability there.
    A vulnerability that touched him, even when he didn't want it to. "I gave you my word, and I mean it I'll protect you."
    She didn't believe it. It was there in the dip of her chin and the wince around those forever-blue eyes. She wasn't