Susan Amarillas - Wyoming Renegade

He did up the buttons and was still tucking the shirt into the waistband of his trousers as he went out the door.

One way or another, he was going to get what he wanted. Judging by the way the lady had responded to him this afternoon, he thought he knew just what to do.

Josh paused in the doorway of the hotel dining room. Heads turned in his direction. All talking ceased, followed by the low murmur of voices. Men looked stern. He was used to that. Several women offered discreet smiles. He was used to that, too.

But tonight he wasn’t interested in women, only one woman. His gaze swept over the ten or so people scattered at the eight round tables. Kerosene lamps flickered and reflected off the dark paneled walls. White china was in stark contrast to the bright calico tablecloths.

He spotted her immediately, as though his gaze were instinctively drawn to her. How could he not? Dressed in blue linen the color of her luminous eyes, she was clearly the most beautiful woman there.

The light caught in her glorious mane of blond hair, hair the color of sunshine. Then she turned toward him as though knowing he was there, watching. She favored him with a half smile.

His body quickened.

Careful, Colter, this isn’t a woman to get involved with. This is business.

Yes, he knew that, had confirmed it not five minutes ago when he’d decided on his plan of action. He chose to ignore his reaction to her this afternoon. Then and now it was lust, pure and simple. He’d been a long time without a woman, after all, and a man had needs, didn’t he?

Alex and Eddie had both turned to see what was the cause of the sudden silence in the room. Somehow Alex wasn’t all that surprised to see Josh Colter standing in the double wide doorway.

He was dressed in a green shirt and black wool trousers, dark colors that only seemed to intensify his commanding presence. The gun he wore hardly seemed necessary to the powerful image he presented.

So he had come after all, was her first fleeting thought. She had to admit, to herself, that she’d wondered if perhaps he’d changed his mind, made other plans. Why was it she suddenly felt relieved, exhilarated at the sight of him?

His smile was faster than lightning and twice as hot. It pinned her to the spot.

His boots were silent on the well-worn fabric of the braided rug that filled the center of the room. The jingle of his spurs blended with the renewed conversations.

He angled between two tables and headed straight for her. There was a predatory gleam in his eyes that made her feel as skittish as a rabbit. She stiffened, resisting the feeling.

That lasted about ten seconds, which was the exact amount of time it took for him to stop directly in front of her.

She extended her hand in greeting. “Good evening, Mr. Colter.” She was pleased her voice sounded much calmer than she felt. She was anxious enough as it was, what with the contest deadline and now Davy taking off. And she did not need some sable-eyed stranger complicating her life, not now.

Her small hand was enfolded in his larger one. His thumb swept across the back of her hand in a sensuous gesture that made her stomach do funny flip-flops.

She blinked once against the sensation, resisted the impulse to groan. What the devil was wrong with her?

Evidently she wasn’t as focused as she’d thought, because she’d thought about him all afternoon. Yes, shameful as it was, she’d just lain on her bed and thought about the tall, dark stranger who’d sent her pulse racing in the hotel lobby with a few words and a long, sultry look.

Discreetly she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She forced her smile up a peg or two and looked from Josh—correction, Mr. Colter—to Eddie and back again.

“Good evening,” he returned. His eyes never leaving hers, he took her hand and lifted it toward his mouth. The air around them charged as though in anticipation of a coming storm. Lightly, oh so lightly, his mouth touched her knuckles. His lips were moist and warm.

Well, you could have heard a pin drop in that dining room. She gazed up at him through her lashes and the heat that sparked in his ebony eyes was hot enough to melt granite. Lord knows it was melting her.

Still, in what was left of the rational part of her mind, she understood this was a game, more complicated than before, but a game nonetheless. Pretending a confidence she didn’t feel, she determined to play along, not wanting to end it and so give the victory to him.

“Won’t you join us?” she asked demurely, sliding her hand free of his warm grasp.

“I was hoping you’d ask.” His voice was husky, sensual. He dragged out the chair next to hers.’ “I never like to keep a beautiful woman… waiting.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said, keeping up her end of the game, though an unfamiliar heat was stirring inside her at his nearness, at the soft tone of his voice. Where was that woman of control, of purpose?

Fortunately Eddie was not so affected. His chair scraped back, snagging on the rug. He stood, his narrow face drawn into a frown. “Alex? Who’s this?” He still held his calico dinner napkin in his left hand, which rested lightly on the tabletop.

Alex saw Josh look up at Eddie, eyes widening as though seeing him for the first time. In less than an instant, his gaze returned to her, one black brow arched in utter disbelief. “Don’t tell me this is the husband I’m going to have to kill?” he inquired, craning around as though searching the room for someone else, someone more appropriate, to his way of thinking at least.

She knew he was kidding, knew it was more of their game. “Well, if you feel you must.” She gave a one-shoulder shrug and kept her pose nonchalant. “But would you mind doing it outside? I’m trying to decide on dinner here, and fights are so distracting, don’t you agree?” She focused her attention on the chalkboard near the kitchen door where the four daily specials were listed.

Eddie’s brown eyes got saucer big. “What do you mean, kill? What’s he mean, Alex?” Eddie’s voice was half concerned, half youthful bravado. He puffed out his chest, straining the buttons of his brown tweed jacket.

“Well, then, this is it, I suppose,” Josh said with feigned gravity as he braced one hand on the table and made to stand. Eddie’s gaze was riveted to the gun tied to Josh’s leg.

“Now, wait! Now just a minute. What’s he talking about, a husband?” Eddie’s voice moved up both in volume and pitch.

“Why, Eddie, darling, you mean you aren’t willing to die for me?” Her cousin was always so easy to rile. She’d been teasing him since he was five.

“Well, sure—what! No!” Eddie tugged at his collar. “What the devil are you talking about?” He dropped down in his chair. “Now, see here, Alex,” Eddie sputtered, “I am most empathetically not your husband, and you know it!”

Alex chuckled. “A little louder, Eddie, darling, I don’t think the folks at the table near the window quite heard you.”

“We heard everything just fine,” the man called loudly, and gave them a wave.

Eddie looked mortified.

Josh burst out laughing.

Alex tried to looked indignant but failed miserably.

Soon the whole restaurant was laughing.

“Well—” Josh started, his voice rich with laughter “—am I still invited for dinner?”

“By all means,” Alex confirmed, warming to the game and the man, especially the man. One minute he looked savage enough to carry out his threat of killing, the next he was full of roguish charm. He was a mystery, an intriguing mystery to be sure, but one she didn’t have time to solve, not unless it could be accomplished over dinner.

Josh angled around to face Eddie. “I’m sorry about that. It seems we started this little…game this afternoon. It was unfair of us not to let you in on it.”