Lady Renegade. Carol Finch
Lorelei Russell and I need your assistance, Marshal Fox.”
The fairy-tale image shattered like broken glass. Gideon had heard that name the previous day in marshal camp. A messenger had arrived to alert the lawmen that a woman had murdered her lover then fled into the rugged Osage Hills. Apparently, she hadn’t realized the network of information passed quickly among the roaming bands of deputy marshals who patrolled Indian Territory.
If she thought to attach herself to him, after cleverly making use of the fog and sunlight to bewitch him, then she thought wrong. No matter how lovely and captivating she was—and she definitely was—she wasn’t getting her hooks into Gideon Fox. His hardscrabble life had taught him to be wary and suspicious. Dealing with ruthless criminals made him excessively cynical and cautious. Gideon wasn’t falling into her trap, either.
To ensure Pecos Clem couldn’t escape, Gideon double-checked the ropes that held the outlaw to the saddle. He’d be damned if he let himself be distracted by sinful temptation at its best—or worst, depending on how you looked at it. He did not intend to lose one prisoner while capturing another.
“What can I do for you, Miz Russell?” Gideon asked as nonchalantly as he knew how.
“I would like for you to escort me to my father’s trading post near Winding River so I can clear up a misunderstanding and track down a murderer who killed my friend.”
So she planned to use him as her protective shield, did she? He wasn’t surprised. Half the people in this world expected him to do favors for them. With the exception of his two younger brothers and his sister-in-law, he amended. Then again, even they could become demanding on occasion.
The other half of the population tried to avoid him before he hauled them to Judge Parker’s federal court.
“I’m in the middle of an arrest, Mizz Russell.” He turned directly to face her—and wished he hadn’t. The woman looked like she should be against the law and her effect on him was staggering. Gideon tried exceptionally hard to pretend indifference but it wasn’t easy.
She shifted her weight from one booted foot to the other, drawing his unwilling attention to the curve of her hips and her long, shapely legs. “Couldn’t you leave your prisoner with other marshals? I know your mobile headquarters and jail wagon must be around here somewhere.”
“I could,” he acknowledged. “But I’m nine miles west of headquarters.”
She nodded pensively, causing a riot of red-gold curlicue strands of hair to bobble around her exquisite face. “I’ll fetch my horse. After we drop off your prisoner we can head west.”
Gideon had no reason to mistrust her intentions—and no reason not to. “I’ll go with you to retrieve your mount,” he insisted as he tethered the gray horse to a tree. “Clem isn’t going anywhere until I get back.”
Letting Lorelei lead the way wasn’t such a good idea, Gideon decided a moment later. The seductive sway of her hips hypnotized him. Worse, he found himself speculating how this wicked, murdering angel looked naked.
He could picture that curly mane of flame-gold hair spilling over the grass as he settled himself exactly above her. He could imagine the feel of those well-proportioned legs hooked around his waist as he buried himself inside her and fell into the depths of those thick-lashed golden eyes. It would be like flying into the blistering heat of the sun….
The erotic thought blazed through his mind and scorched his body, leaving it sizzling with forbidden desire. Ruthlessly, Gideon ignored the tingling sensations and reminded himself that no matter how appealing this sinful angel was, she had murdered her lover.
The only reason he’d reacted so fiercely to her was that he’d been away from women too long. His forays to capture criminals in Indian Territory—that encompassed seventy thousand square miles—usually lasted six weeks. He’d been in the wilderness for five weeks. Any female would look good to him by now, he tried to convince himself.
Unfortunately, this particular woman possessed excessive feminine appeal. The fact that Lorelei had murdered her last lover and wanted Gideon to get her off, scot-free, should have repelled him. But it didn’t, damn it.
“What are you doing out here alone?” Gideon asked as she hiked up the hillside.
“I’m hiding from the two men chasing after me.”
An honest lady outlaw? Interesting. He wondered what her angle was. Everyone had an angle, after all. There was always a catch, always a trap. A man had to stay on his toes to avoid tripping himself up.
“Why are they chasing you?” he asked—as if he didn’t know.
“Because they were ordered to do so by the person who mistakenly thought I committed a crime. Which I didn’t,” she said emphatically as she led the way up a rocky ridge.
“Uh-huh,” he mumbled neutrally.
She approached the sturdy strawberry roan gelding that looked to be too high-spirited for a woman to handle. Apparently, Lorelei Russell could handle men and horses with the same degree of skill—and he better not let himself forget that. Instinct and intuition had warned him at first sight that she was trouble. Sure enough, he’d been right.
The instant she turned her back to reach for the horse’s reins Gideon pounced. He snaked his arm around her waist and slammed her curvaceous body against his, entrapping her. Instant awareness shot through his body when she squirmed against him in a fierce effort to escape. He was doing a fine job of holding on to his alluring captive and controlling a flaming case of lust until she gouged her elbow into his chest with such force that he couldn’t draw breath. Then she kicked him in the knee—and she would have landed a disabling blow to his crotch if he hadn’t reacted instinctively by jackknifing his body and spinning away.
Growling, Gideon recoiled, then lunged at her when she squirmed from his arms and tried to leap onto her horse. He launched himself through the air and tackled her around the knees before she stuffed a booted foot in the stirrup. She yelped when he forced her facedown on the ground and crawled atop her. She spat out a mouthful of gravel and dirt and cursed him soundly as she tried to buck him off.
“So much for the angelic image you tried to project, hellion,” he growled at the back of her curly head, while she wormed and wriggled ineffectively beneath him.
“What is the matter with you!” she yelled at him.
“There’s a warrant out for your arrest and a price on your head. I’m arresting you for murder,” he snapped as he rolled her to her back and pinned her wrists to the ground.
Wide amber eyes swept up as her full breasts heaved from exertion. Gideon noticed the second button on her shirt had come undone during their scuffle. Before his overly active imagination ran away with itself—again—he retrieved the spare set of handcuffs that hung on his double holster.
“How did you know about that already?” Lori panted as he snapped the metal bracelets in place.
“I’m a Deputy U.S. Marshal and I’m half Osage. I know all and see all. I can sure as hell see you for what you are,” he muttered as he hauled her abruptly to her feet.
This could not be happening! Lori thought in dismay. She had come to Gideon Fox for help and he had turned on her without giving away the fact that he knew who she was. He had been waiting to pounce on her, damn him.
“Nice horse,” he complimented as he picked her up and tossed her onto the saddle. “Did you steal it?”
“No, Drifter is mine. A gift from my father, in fact.”
She glowered at the brawny marshal whose stubbled beard and collar-length raven hair gave him the appearance of the dark angel of doom. His vivid blue eyes missed nothing as he looked her up and down while he retrieved a coil of rope from his back pocket to lash her foot to the stirrup. She was poised to gouge Drifter the instant Gideon circled to restrain her other foot.
“Don’t try it, honey,” he ordered.