Lone Wolf's Woman. Carol Finch

would know your angle immediately.”

      “Only three?” His thick brow arched. With her brains, beauty and wealth, he would have guessed more.

      A mischievous grin pursed her lips. “According to my suitors, I’m not society’s traditional female. Much too unconventional when it comes to fashion,” she added as she gestured toward her attire. “Too headstrong and willful. And that was the catch they hadn’t counted on.” She stared pointedly at him. “Beware, Lone Wolf, you might get more than you bargained for.”

      “I’ll take my chances.” He chuckled, finding that he enjoyed negotiating with this feisty female. “Getting more than I bargain for is a hazard of my profession.”

      “You will have your answer later,” she said before she closed the door behind her.

      Lone Wolf wondered if she might slam the door with a vengeance to show her displeasure with his shocking request. Then he remembered that Adam was asleep in the next room. Julia wouldn’t think of disturbing him.

      Admiring the expensive furnishings, Lone Wolf peeled off his clothes, then set the bowie knife—which he kept strapped to his left thigh—and both pistols on the nightstand. He placed the derringer that he sheathed in his shirtsleeve under the fluffy pillow and laid the long-barreled boot pistol on the empty space beside him.

      He had learned the importance of keeping his arsenal of weapons within easy reach, no matter where he was.

      Even while lounging in this fancy suite.

      He recalled the names of several dead lawmen who hadn’t heeded that good advice.

      Lone Wolf sprawled on the bed and immediately became enshrouded in the feminine fragrance that clung to the luxuriant bedding and mattress. He lay there staring up at the frilly canopy, trying to estimate how long it would take his quick-witted client to figure out the primary reason he had suggested a pretended marriage.

      She, of course, wouldn’t have a clue what other reasons had prompted him to make the stipulation. But for now, one reason was enough. Astute as Julia was, he didn’t think it would take her long to puzzle it out.

      Three hours later, after Julia had stopped by Adam’s room, she purposely barged unannounced into her suite. She skidded to a halt when she heard the click of two triggers. The low, threatening growl warned her that she was treading on dangerous ground.

      Whatever else Lone Wolf was, he was not a man caught off guard easily. She was relieved to know that, glad to see that he was armed to the teeth and that he was capable of protecting her brother and himself instantaneously.

      “You should have knocked and announced yourself,” he grumbled.

      Heat flamed across Julia’s face when she saw him flip the sheet over his hips then heard the pistols clang against the nightstand. The legendary bounty hunter slept naked, she realized. Had there been more moonlight spraying through the floor-length windows she would have seen that clearly for herself.

      Drawing herself up to full stature, and careful not to allow her gaze to dip below his shadowed face, she padded closer to the bed. “I came to—”

      “Is Adam all right?” he cut in worriedly.

      “Yes, thank you for asking. He is still in pain and chattering like a magpie in his drug-induced dreams. I changed the dressing on the wound and the bleeding is under control.”

      “Good. Now turn your back so I can slip on my breeches.”

      “And not have you at the same sort of disadvantage that I faced when you dropped that ‘there’s just one catch’ in my lap?” Julia scoffed. “You deserve to sit there feeling awkward. Turnabout is fair play.”

      “Your brother is right,” she heard him mutter. “You are a handful.”

      “Thank you. I pride myself in being a man’s equal, not the extension of his opinions and his will.”

      “Why am I not surprised to hear that?”

      Julia clutched her robe together, then crossed her arms under her breasts. “I think I have figured out why you want the pretense of a marriage during this assignment.”

      Her first thought had been that he wanted to take full advantage of the situation, but she’d reminded herself that she was trying to measure him against the yardstick of ordinary men. “You aren’t like the fortune hunters I’ve encountered.”

      “Are you asking or telling?” he said wryly.

      “I’m telling you what I’ve learned about you already.”

      “Just don’t try to find qualities in me that aren’t there,” he warned. “I am what I am. Nothing more or less. Nothing admirable. Nothing special.”

      But he was certainly all man, she mused as her betraying perusal slid down from his bare chest to his lap. She couldn’t decide if she was relieved or disappointed that darkness concealed his masculine body.

      “Get to the point, Julia,” he said impatiently. “It’s the middle of the night and I’m only dressed for the kind of social call that you and I are not going to participate in.”

      She winced at his brisk tone and her gaze returned to his face—from which it never should have strayed in the first place. She inhaled a quick breath and said, “The pretend marriage is your attempt to protect my reputation while we’re working closely together. Am I right?”

      “Partially,” he murmured. He would get to the more-than-a-mite-selfish reasons later.

      “If Sol Griffin thinks we’re married, he might try to go through you to get to me. You would become one of the obstacles he would have to remove to get his hands on Preston Ranch. And three murder attempts would arouse the sheriff’s suspicions and launch an official investigation.”

      “Bingo. Smart lady,” he praised.

      “Thank you. However, a betrothal would accelerate an attempt on my life,” she remarked.

      Damn, she was right, he realized. He had given her credit for her sharp intellect, but he still had underestimated her.

      “Therefore,” she went on to say, “I intend to spread the word of our marriage as soon as I inform Adam of our plan. If anyone asks I will insist that after several chance meetings between us, I realized you suited me perfectly.”

      Which he did, Julia mused. This man had agreed to put his life on the line to protect Adam. He didn’t harbor ulterior motives like her other beaux. She trusted him. She liked him. She was attracted to him, even when she knew nothing permanent would come of the arrangement. She certainly didn’t need a husband to complete her, and he didn’t need a wife, with his tumbleweed lifestyle.

      “And so,” she added belatedly, “I will agree to your little catch, because it is an ingenious solution.”

      Lone Wolf smiled to himself. He would like to be on hand when Sol Griffin received the news of this supposed marriage to Julia Preston. That would go a long way in compensating for the hurt and rejection he had suffered at Sol’s hands.

      A fleeting shadow on the gallery put Lone Wolf’s senses on full alert. He bounded to his feet, reacting instinctively to the potential threat that descended on Adam. Behind him he heard Julia’s sharp intake of breath—and he remembered that he was still naked.

      “Well, hell.” Muttering, he snatched up the sheet and tucked it around his waist. He scooped up his pistols on the way to the balcony. “Stay here,” he gritted out when he heard Julia scurrying along behind him.

      “But—” she protested.

      “Stay in here,” he snapped in a tone that invited no argument.

      To his relief, Julia screeched to a halt.

      Lone Wolf slipped silently out the door.

       Chapter Four