Kate Bridges - Luke's Runaway Bride

She stared at his shirt, then straight at him. The sheen in her eyes changed and he saw realization dawn. Redness crept up her neck as she stumbled backward. “You’re the one—”

“It’s not what you think. I didn’t steal any money—”

She stared at him as if he’d crawled out of a sewer. Rage churned his veins. Inwardly, he roared. What was he supposed to do now? He couldn’t go to the ball for Daniel; he’d be shot or arrested. But he also couldn’t forget about the boy! Dammit! If this was Daniel’s way to shut him up, it damn well wouldn’t work.

A crazy thought fired through his mind and tangled with the whiskey and the pain.

Luke held her gaze, her wild eyes. Why not? Maybe she needed protecting from Daniel herself, and he’d be doing her a favor. And if Daniel was in love with her, he’d do anything to save her. Wouldn’t he? Would he tell the truth about Adam then? Would he sign the papers? Would he explain to the sheriff that he’d been mistaken about the robbery?

No, maybe Luke was imagining the worst. Surely Daniel wouldn’t have…

Could Luke risk it? Hanging from the gallows like his father…

His heart drummed. Thirty-six hours. That’s all he’d need her for. He’d borrow her for thirty-six hours. He’d take the most valuable thing Daniel had and force the son of a bitch into a chase. Luke would release her after Daniel caught tomorrow’s train to Cheyenne and settled their affairs.

Thirty-six hours.

She stumbled backward as he stared at her with deadening calm. By the stricken look on her face, she knew she was in desperate trouble. She lunged for the gun on the desk, but she was no match for his years of fighting experience. He reached it first. Breathless, she stepped back and faced him as he leveled his weapon on her.

He sucked in a cool, shaky breath. “You’re coming with me.”

“What do you mean, I’m going with you?” Jenny panted. Prickles of terror raced up her spine. Who the hell was this man and what did he intend to do with her? He swayed above her, breathing hard, his damp shirt plastered to the black hair on his powerful chest, a six-shooter pointed straight at her. What chance did she have?

Beneath her hot velvet gown, sweat beaded between her breasts. She’d never let him take her without a fight. Inch by inch, she leaned back against the desk and secretly stretched her fingertips toward the whiskey decanter. If she could reach it, she’d fling it in his face. Better yet, in his wound.

His cool gray eyes glinted, as cold as gunmetal in a snowstorm. His expression was a mask of granite. “I’m taking you to Wyoming.”

The muscles in her face sank. “Why?”

His pale lips thinned. “Because it’s the only way Daniel’s going to listen to what I have to say.”

She doubted he was any friend of Daniel’s. At heart, he was just a criminal who’d stolen ten thousand dollars. When Daniel got ahold of him, he’d see to it the man paid for his crime. “Where in Wyoming are you headed?”

“Daniel will know where.”

Her jaw stiffened. “I’m not going with you.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

She stretched her arm to the point of pain until her fingers grazed cool glass. She swallowed, gripped the bottleneck hard and swung it. A river of gold liquid spewed onto his chest. Bull’s-eye.

Luke sprang back and yelped, clawing at his shirt. She winced, but before he could recover, she stretched for the rock on the other side of the desk and flung it, too. He glanced up in the nick of time and, cursing her, reared out of its path before the rock could whack him on the chest. It thudded on his boot.

His mouth twisted. “Dammit, woman!”

She dashed toward the door, but a firm hand gripped the back of her dress. Strong fingers dug into her bare shoulder. He yanked her closer and she gasped when she met his blazing eyes. A swath of wavy hair fell across his forehead. His temples glistened with sweat. All she smelled was whiskey. Dear God, what would he do to her?

His face was flushed a deep ruby, but he kept his grip steady on the gun. With each tick-tock of Daniel’s silver clock on the desk, her stomach quivered.

Then, with an unexpected heave, Luke tossed her away, unharmed. Dabbing at his shirt with a towel, he growled. So maybe he wouldn’t hurt her. Her mind reeled, searching for another escape.

The faint sound of footsteps came from the hallway. Their startled gazes collided. Olivia.

Luke dove at Jenny and cupped a hand to her mouth. She shrank back, dodged his callused palm and bit down on a finger. Hard.

“Ahhh!” He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her to his chest, crushing her breasts against him.

For one breathless moment they were close enough to kiss.

The shocking thought sent a current racing down her thighs. He wouldn’t dare!

Emotions battled across his face. He looked like a man trapped by something he wanted to explain.

He inclined his dark head and she gasped. Would he kiss her? No…once again he slid a hot, firm hand over her lips, stifling her protest.

She stilled under the pressure. His hand carried the scent of fresh air and grass. He splayed his other hand against her bare shoulder blades and heat seeped into her skin.

He was a barbarian. A criminal.

Wasn’t he?

With her soft curves flattened against his firm chest, she felt his heart drumming in unison with her own. Daniel’s touch never affected her like this. Daniel’s arms felt secure and comfortable. Luke’s touch was anything but. How dare he!

She somehow found the courage to pound on his wounded ribs. He staggered at the light blow and she tumbled back.

His breath tore out of him in a painful gasp.

The doorknob creaked.

“Keep still,” he whispered, raising his gun, “and you won’t get hurt.”

She stiffened. What sort of monster was he?

Olivia hummed as she stepped through the doorway, tray in hand, laden with buns, scones and jerky. Her billowing gown rustled. “Here we are, with plenty to eat….” She glanced up and her voice trailed off. Jenny met her terrified gaze with her own.

The tray toppled to the floor. Buns rolled in all directions. “I knew it was the third thing, I knew it!” Olivia bellowed, wailing as if she were being scalped. She grabbed her skirts and ran.

Luke cocked the hammer of his gun with a loud click. Olivia stopped cold. When she slowly turned around, the women stared numbly at each other. Jenny frowned fiercely, desperately wishing her friend, at least, might escape. Her breathing was harsh and rapid.

“Keep quiet,” he said, “or I’ll…shoot the both of you.”

Trembling, Jenny stepped closer to Olivia. She shot him a hostile glare. “I’ll never help a stranger again.”

Luke pushed a hand through his hair and glared at her in exasperation. “Yes, you will. You can’t help it.” He struggled to catch his breath. “Woman, you tire me out.”

She stood her ground.

Finally, he tilted his rugged face toward Olivia. “Do you have a husband, ma’am?”

Scowling, Olivia shrugged a shoulder. “No.”

Jenny stepped forward. “What’s that got to do—”

He raised his palm in the air and silenced her. “Just answer the question. Who do you live with?”

The worry lines around Olivia’s eyes sharpened. “Jenny and her father.”

Slowly, his gaze traveled to Jenny, and another qualm of fear shuddered through her. “Well, that’s good,” he said. “No one’s going to miss you then. It’ll seem natural Jenny took you with her on her trip.”

Olivia slumped against her. A cold shiver whispered over Jenny. “You intend on taking us both?”

He nodded. “You can each be leverage for the other.”