Lady Renegade. Carol Finch

Lady Renegade - Carol  Finch


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woman, see what you made me do?” Gideon whispered against her lips. “I don’t want to like you.” He kissed her again, negating his gruff comment.

      “I don’t want to like you, either,” she said when he allowed her to come up for air. “In fact, I don’t like you. You possess all the annoying qualities that don’t appeal to me. You make me say things I wouldn’t say to anyone else. You make me just plain crazy.”

      “I prefer sweet-tempered, docile women who don’t defy me at every turn,” he said, then kissed her again—and she let him.

      “That’s why you have to pay by the hour for devoted attention,” she couldn’t resist saying.

      He lifted his raven head a fraction then stared down at her from beneath half-mast lashes. His ruggedly handsome face was a hairbreadth from hers. Surprisingly, a smile twitched his sensuous lips.

      “How much will it cost for you to be nice to me for a full hour?”

      “You couldn’t afford it, Marshal Fox.”

      “Ah, so you’re a high-class courtesan,” he taunted. “Is that what you and Anthony Rogers were arguing about? Your exorbitant fee? Now the truth comes out.”

      She went for his throat. He’d gone too far with his tormenting ridicule. He’d brought Tony’s name into it when she was feeling guilty and grieving his loss.

      He grabbed her bound wrists, forcing them down in front of her, as if she was no more than a weak child. Curse him! He was as strong and powerful as he looked and she hated being dominated, especially when she was angry and frustrated with herself for being so attracted to this infuriating man.

      “One day I hope you find yourself protesting your innocence and no one will listen to you. Then you’ll know how exasperating it is to face mockery and scorn when you know in your heart and soul that you have done nothing to deserve unfair accusations and demeaning treatment.”

      Growling, Gideon quick-marched her out the front door, down the steps and bustled her toward the barn. He tethered her to a pole and left her beside two milk cows, a pen of sheep and two strapping paint horses.

      “And stay there,” he snapped before he spun on his heels. “Prisoners are not allowed special privileges in my book.”

      “You can go to hell, Gideon Fox,” she called after him.

      “Been there. It’s everything it’s cracked up to be.” He shot her a narrowed glance over his shoulder and added, “By the way, the devil sends you his regards, hellion.”

      When he disappeared from sight, leaving her tied up like an animal, days of tormenting emotion bubbled up inside her then erupted like molten lava. Lori cried her eyes out. She cried for Tony, for the injustice her life had become, for the worry her father must be experiencing. And most of all she bawled her head off because of Gideon Fox. That cynical, blue-eyed, cantankerous rascal of a deputy marshal made her feel sensations she wanted to share with anyone else in the world but him!

      On his way back to the house, Gideon stopped to draw water from the well then washed his face so he could cool off—physically and emotionally. It was a crime what that high-spirited female did to him. She disrupted his logical thought processes. When he came within five feet of her, desire and wariness warred inside him.

      The damnable truth was that he wanted that golden-eyed virago more than he’d wanted any other woman in his life. Yet, he didn’t want to want her because she represented the kind of individual he was sworn to apprehend.

      In addition, he refused to make the kind of disastrous mistake his mother made when she fell for her second husband’s manipulative lies.

      If Lori knew how many twisted, treacherous lies and proclamations he’d heard from outlaws—men and women alike—she would have tried a different tack with him. Gideon had heard and seen the worst humanity could do to each other and he’d lost faith. Time and time again, people had looked him right in the eye and lied through their teeth to protect themselves.

      Scrubbing his hands over his face, Gideon forcefully set aside his frustrating inability to deal professionally with Lori. Instead, he focused on his family. He’d been the head of the household for so long that he considered it his duty to make certain everything ran smoothly. He’d rather take a bullet himself than to see Galen suffer. Especially since it upset his pregnant wife to such extremes. Sarah was so deeply and completely in love with Galen that it still amazed Gideon to watch her interact with his middle brother.

      Gideon had lived with that ornery Galen and impulsive Glenn for years. He didn’t consider them exceptionally lovable. Perhaps the fact that ruthless raiders had killed Sarah’s family five years earlier made her cling so fiercely to her new husband and family. After Gideon tracked down every last one of the three men and then watched Judge Parker send them to the gallows, Sarah had sworn eternal gratitude.

      “He’s at it again,” Sarah said as she breezed onto the porch. “Galen insisted he can mount a horse to begin a search for our horses. I swear you’ll have to tie him to the bedposts. Glenn is trying to do just that, but he needs help.”

      Shaking himself like a duck to shed water, Gideon strode into the house. He could hear Galen swearing a blue steak, long before he witnessed the struggle between Galen and Glenn.

      Gideon walked over to press his palm to Galen’s forehead, noting his high fever and forcing his brother down while Glenn secured his good arm to the iron headboard. “Stop resisting. You’re a sick man and you’re worse than a belligerent prisoner.” Like the one he’d tethered in his barn. “You’re hurt and you need rest,” he added tersely. “Do us all a favor and calm down.”

      “You have your own problems,” Galen panted, completely out of breath. “Can’t expect you to take time off to hunt down our horses. They’ll be miles away if I don’t track them.”

      “I will track them down. Count on it,” Gideon guaranteed. “The other marshals can handle the jail wagon and still round up fugitives before we head to Fort Smith.”

      “What about the woman?” Galen’s green-eyed gaze zeroed in on him. “What are you going to do about her?”

      “I think you should let her go.” Glenn spoke up. “She looks innocent to me.”

      Galen and Gideon exchanged glances before staring at their younger brother. Gideon said, “So is a delicate rose…until you grab hold of it and suffer the painful prick of its thorn. Looks are deceiving, little brother. It’s time you learned that.”

      Glenn gestured toward Sarah. “Lori is pretty like Sarah.”

      “Thank you,” Sarah murmured.

      “I think Lori also has a kind heart and generous nature,” Glenn continued. “You should give her the benefit of the doubt.”

      “I did more than that,” Gideon replied. “I tested her and she attacked me.”

      “Tested her?” Glenn smiled wryly. “How?”

      “I provoked her temper.”

      “I can see why she might’ve attacked you.” Glenn crossed his arms over his chest and studied Gideon all too closely. “I never knew you were so rude to women.”

      The comment caused Galen and Sarah to arch their eyebrows and study Gideon speculatively.

      “Sparring with each other, were they?” Galen asked.

      “Stay out of this. You’re injured,” Gideon snapped.

      “Nothing wrong with my mind, except when my lovely wife overdoses me with that foul-tasting sedative.”

      “Everything’s wrong with your mind,” Gideon said, and smirked. “When you’re sedated you think you can fly and your judgment is skewered.”

      “He’s not that bad,” Sarah put in defensively. “And I must say I’m surprised by your attitude toward Lori. In fact,


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