A Western Christmas Homecoming. Lynna Banning
spun away from the window. “Did you like that story, Rand? It’s one of my favorites.”
He couldn’t stop looking at her. She’d worn her hair down tonight, and suddenly he wanted to gather up a handful of the dark, glossy waves tumbling about her shoulders and bury his nose in it. What Alice had just told him about her childhood and the library didn’t explain half of what this woman was.
He smoothed one finger across his mustache and tried to think. He couldn’t afford to let himself get distracted in the middle of a murder investigation. He hadn’t been interested in a woman since his Texas Ranger days, and when she’d been killed he’d sworn he’d never allow another female he cared about into his life.
But it was growing harder and harder to keep his mind off Alice Montgomery. Especially when she was playing Lolly Maguire.
“Rand? Please say something.”
“Yeah, I liked your Robin Hood story. You. Everything.”
She must have heard something in his voice because she walked over and sat down on the bed beside him. Instantly he stood up and moved away. He didn’t trust himself anywhere near her.
Lordy, he needed a drink!
Huh! He was no better than weak-willed Sheriff Lipscomb, drinking on duty. God in heaven, it was going to be a long night.
“Rand, what is the matter? Did I say something wrong?” Her eyes looked hurt and a little frightened.
He crumbled. “Alice, dammit, I—”
She rose slowly and moved toward him, her face pale. “What?” she breathed.
He reached out to touch her shoulder. “Hell and damn, I’m half in love with Lolly Maguire and you’re not even real! I’m trying to investigate this killing, and I don’t need any distraction!”
To his surprise, she laughed. “Oh, thank goodness. I thought there was something really wrong!”
“Alice, what in the hell do you think this is?”
She looked up at him with the most puzzling look he’d ever seen on a woman’s face. “Oh, Rand, it’s very simple, really.”
“Simple? It doesn’t seem simple to me. Why don’t you explain?”
“It’s simple because...” She stretched up on tiptoe and brushed her lips against his cheek. “Lolly Maguire is just a pretend person, and you’re just a pretend George Winston Oliver. It’s only these pretend people who are attracted to each other, not you and me.”
He jerked as if she’d shot him. “What? Are you crazy?”
She laughed again, more softly. “It’s just Lolly and George,” she repeated.
“No!” he said brusquely. “Lolly or not, or Alice, or whoever you are, I can’t fall—and you can’t. We have work to do.”
“Yes, I know,” she said with a little catch in her voice. “We have to find out who murdered my sister.”
“Yeah. I just wanted to remind you that’s why we’re here.”
“Together,” she said.
“In this hotel room.”
“Together,” she said again.
“Alice.” He curved his fingers around her shoulders and purposefully set her aside. “If you stay here one more minute, I’m going to kiss you, and I won’t want to stop. Do you understand?”
“Oh,” she breathed.
“Alice?”
“I never, ever thought this would happen to me,” she whispered. “And I...I have a confession to make.”
His heart dropped into his stomach. “Yeah?”
“I have never kissed a man. I mean really kissed a man. Not unless you count the boys out behind the barn at dances.”
Rand couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cheer. Alice was the most unexpected, most surprising, most puzzling, most maddeningly attractive female he’d ever encountered. He prayed he could get through the next few days until he’d solved the murder without compromising her.
He glanced over her head at the two beds in the room, shoved together to make a wide, almost double sleeping arrangement against one wall. He could separate them, pull them far apart from each other. But he’d been sleeping at just an arm’s length from Alice for the past three nights. Why stop now?
Because, you idiot, because now you’re falling in love with her and you’re an honorable man. Or you used to be.
The answer to this dilemma was simple, he decided. Just stop falling in love with her.
Her voice startled him. “What will we do tomorrow, Rand?”
The question jolted him out of his mental rambling. “Tomorrow? Well, we—I will visit your sister’s assay office, talk to the people who work there and look through the business records. Then I’ll look up Dorothy’s attorney, find out whether she had a will.”
“Oh, good. I was getting a bit bored talking to the miners at the Golden Nugget.”
“You’re not coming with me.”
“Oh, but I am, Rand.” She pressed her lips together. “Dottie was my sister, and I am your undercover assistant. You need me.”
“You’ll have to be Lolly Maguire,” he warned.
She laughed. “I am growing fond of Lolly Maguire. She’s like my secret self, someone I could never be in real life, just in a pretend world.”
“It could be dangerous,” he warned. “A killer is a killer. He’ll be ruthless in covering up his crime.”
“Well, of course, Rand. I knew that all along.”
He just looked at her. Alice was not just surprising, she was shocking. She was brave. Foolishly brave. And, right in character, her next question surprised him.
“Do you think the dining room is still open? I find I am most dreadfully hungry.”
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