"How can I say yes? I don't even think I know you well enough to share a business with you much less a bed. Look around, I only see one of them."

"I never said a bed had to be involved, but if you insist."

"Funny. Hilarious."

"Go ahead and laugh. I have my reputation to think about. If I spend too much time hanging out with a pretty woman like you, think of what it will do to my reputation."

"Your tough-guy image will be ruined?"

"Precisely. I won't be able to scare anyone off then."

"Does anyone really know you around here? I think you're a lot of hot air, Mr. Leo Ryder."

He merely winked. Winked! He was a charmer. Maybe a man who lived just on the outside of the law, at the edge of civilization and civility.

Still, he was quite, well, alluring. There was no mistaking the ripple of muscle beneath his cotton shirt.

Whew. Millie tried to look somewhere else, but it was impossible. His shirt stretched over his hard chest and sculpted shoulders with each movement.

My, she was growing warm. Very warm.

But Leo seemed unaware of her arousal. He unbuttoned the top button of her waistband without glancing up. "Don't get any wrong ideas. I'm not trying to separate you from your panties. I'm strictly business here."

"You mean, it's medical?"

"Sure. You need to take care of that bullet wound. But I'm taking care of my investment."

"Me? How can I be your investment?"

"You'll see." He pulled down her trousers to her knees. "Now, sit still and let me care for you."

Little sparks of affection ignited and radiated through her body.

Through every part of her body.

She cleared her throat. "It's nice to know you care."

"Against my will, of course. I feel responsible for you."

The warmth in her chest faded. "Responsible? That's all?"

"Yep. That's all." He smiled.

Wow, did he dazzle. Bright eyes, deep dimples, a hint of a different, gentler man.

Then in a blink it all faded.

As if he'd let her see too much of his true self.

He untied the bandage and left her to search through cabinets.

Then it struck her. "You seem to know your way around. You've been here before."

"Once." He found what he wanted and returned with a small metal pail of medical supplies and some whiskey.

He knelt before her and took a long swig from the bottle. "Want some?"

"No. You look like a man who drinks a lot."

"I can be." He poured some of the whiskey over her wound. "You have such soft skin."

"I do?" Her breath caught. There she was, on fire again.

And in unmentionable places. She squirmed, aware of heat thundering through her veins.

"You can't keep secrets, Millie. Not with your honest face." Humor sparkled in his wicked eyes.

"Secrets?" She blushed.

Had he guessed how she was reacting to him?

Sexually, and not just a little bit either.

She cleared her throat. "What secrets am I hiding?"

"Certain feelings. For me."

Did it show that much? "Perhaps just a few."

"It must hurt to admit. Feeling something for a man like me."

"Feeling what?"

A smile touched his lips. "How about a little gratitude."

"Gratitude?" Oh, he was so wrong. He couldn't be more wrong.

At least he hadn't guessed she had, well, desire for him.

He wrapped a fresh bandage around her thigh. "There are two little words civilized women say all the time."

"Which words?"

"You know them." Leo stared hard at her mouth. "Come on. You can thank me. Go on. It won't hurt to do it. Much."

Oh, he could be very charming. And he knew it. With that lopsided grin and twinkle in his eyes.

He watched her expectantly.

"Thank you." The words sounded perfectly normal, but she didn't feel that way at all.

She was weak and invigorated at the same time. Probably because he was so attractive. See, it was his fault she felt this way.

Entirely his fault.

Warmth sparkled in his eyes. An amused grin tugged up one corner of his mouth. Why, he even had sexy lips.

She had never noticed a man's mouth before. Not like this. She could not look away.

What would his kiss feel like?

"See?" He winked again. "It didn't kill you to thank me."

"No, I'm still alive. My heart is still beating. I'm still breathing."

"It's a miracle." His smile broadened, and it was like the sun in the sky. "Everyone needs help now and then. Even you."

"Fine, I admit it. But what about you? You don't look like a man who ever needs help?"

His smile faded and he pushed away. "Not me. I never need anybody."

No, of course not. Millie could feel her heart sink. Leo Ryder, so tough, so damnably male, certainly did not need someone like her.

Well, she did not need the likes of him either. She pulled up her denims.

She wanted to say something smart to him, to prove to him she was not starting to fall for him, but then she looked into Leo's eyes.

She saw strength, intelligence, and warmth.

He was like no outlaw she'd ever seen.

"I don't need anyone, especially some woman. I've been on my own and happy about it until you showed up. I had peace and quiet."

More than humor rang in his voice. It felt like friendliness. Warmth.

Blood roared in her ears. He leaned closer, so close she could see nothing but his eyes, warmer than hot coffee on a cold day.

Goodness, his lips were almost kissing close. She could feel the heat from his mouth hover over her own.

"I can't deny I have needs." Leo's upper lip brushed hers.

Once. Just once.

Oh, if only it had been twice.

"But I'm not a man who kisses and tells."

"If you think I'm the kind of girl who goes around wanting a man to kiss her, you would be dead wrong." Her chin went up.

Whew, talk about a big bold lie. Her mouth tingled like it was on fire.

Inferno hot.

"Never crossed my mind." His upper lip brushed hers again. Such sweetness. "I have to admit it, though. I've never kissed a woman wearing pants. A man's pants."

Both his upper and bottom lips brushed hers as he spoke.

Oh my God, this was a kiss. A real kiss. Not a brush. Not a tease. But an all-out, full-fledged kiss.

The kind of thing she'd always been dying to know. To experience.

No wonder all her girlfriends back home had talked about it. Had raved about the pleasures to be found with a man.

And this kissing thing was just the start? Oh, goodness. What was she going to do now? Her entire mouth was tingling.

Not to mention every other place in between. Her breasts. Her nipples had gone pebble hard.

And her pants were still unbuttoned.

This did not bode well for her reputation.

Or the fact that at the ripe old age of twenty-five, she had never been kissed.

All she wanted was to keep on kissing.

She'd never felt anything so incredible in her entire life. Please, don't let it end.

"Say yes." He nibbled her lips.

Oh, wow. Talk about bliss. Exploding dynamite could not have torn her away. She was all sensation, all aching want for his lips on hers, warm and tender and so hot.

Good heavens, he was hot.

Then he pulled away. He stopped! Right when it was really getting good.

Before she lost her good sense and her self-control.

Whew, talk about good timing.

Something sinful danced in those black eyes of his. Excitement. Desire. Downright amusement.

That's how she felt too.

What was happening to her? She buttoned her pants.

What she felt for Leo was powerfully exciting. She had never experienced this before.

Was it infatuation? Was it reckless and wonton sexual abandon?

Was she putting herself on the same path her mother had taken? Allowing herself to have affections for a man who couldn't love anyone back?

Leo was a miner, and what appeared to be a drifter and a man on the edge of the law. Not a criminal exactly, but he didn't look above stealing a horse if the mood struck him.

Not so different than her father.

She gazed up at Leo. He could break her heart so very easily.

How could she let him stay? How could she ask him to leave?

And worse, was he just playing with her fondness for him? She could not deny that she was lonely.

His kiss had sure felt amazing.

She touched her lips. The tingling had faded but the heat of his kiss remained.

"I have work to do," he said, and he went outside.

---

It was nearing twilight. Leo couldn't go back in there, not yet.

Even if he had to. He still hadn't found what he was looking for.

If Fitzhugh were alive, like he had reason to believe, then there would be a clue somewhere.

The rumors he'd heard at the poker game that one night in the next town over had to be true.

He had to believe Fitzhugh was alive.

Here's hoping he lived long enough, Leo thought cynically. As long as the sheriff in this town didn't catch him and string him up for a murder he didn't commit.

He angled down the alley. He'd grabbed some clothes from the storage room in the back of the liquor store.

Not to mention broke the seal on a fine bottle of scotch and knocked back a few good long swallows. That had hit the spot.

And given him the strength to go around town in the dark of night looking like a middle aged store clerk with an old fashioned tie and perfectly pressed trousers.

If only his co-workers back at the U.S. Marshals' office could see him now. He'd never live it down.

If they believed him to be innocent, that is.

If not, he'd be strung up with a noose, swinging by his neck.

That was one outcome he would sure like to avoid.

He unlocked the front door to the liquor store and slipped in quietly. He'd searched the back and the small storage building Fitzhugh had at the end of the block.

Now that no one was out and about after midnight, he had the leisure to search through the shop where the wall of glass windows would not give him away.

He rummaged around a drawer beneath the front counter and came up with a candle and matches.

The store was peaceable, but he felt unsettled. Because he couldn't get a certain female out of his mind.

The taste of her kiss, the warm velvet brush of her lips, the way she'd put her fingertips to her mouth afterward.

Hell, that tormented him. She tormented him.

Because he wanted to do that again.

And not stop.

That just went to show how dumb he was. He was here for only one reason—to find Fitzhugh, his friend.

Or to find his killer.

Who would have guessed that Millie would have been the one to come here, to have been Fitzhugh's heir?

He shook his head, opening drawers. Looking through shelves.

She wasn't like any female he'd ever met. Porcelain-fine skin. A silken luxury of blond hair. That spark of integrity in intelligent blue-green eyes.

And what was with her wearing trousers?

He heard a sound. The creaking of soft leather as the back door swung open.

He reached for his gun. He held his breath, steady as a rock. It looked like trouble had found him.

He recognized the sound of her light step and holstered his gun.

"I'm glad you didn't shoot," she teased.

"You're in luck. I wasn't even tempted." He closed the cash drawer. "What are you doing down here? Isn't it past your bedtime?"

"I couldn't sleep." She halted with a small wobble before him.

"It's easy, Sunshine. You just lay your head down on the pillow, pull up the covers and go to sleep."

"I thought I heard the door open. There isn't a whole lot of insulation. I could see the candle light through a crack in the floorboards."

"I didn't mean to startle you. Or keep you up."

"That's all right. I guess I was curious. I didn't get to see my uncle's store. I wish I'd known him better."

"What does that mean? You must have been important to him if he left his store to you."

"I was just as surprised as anyone. His own son wasn't named in his will. Or any other member of the family. Just me. I hadn't seen him in years."

"I know there was a falling out. He mentioned it to me."

"Yes. Over the Civil War. Uncle Fitzhugh did not believe that it was anyone's right to own another human being. I happen to agree with him, by the way."

"I do too. I don't think he could have left this place to anyone better. But you're going to have to keep this place as a liquor store."

"Why is that?"

"Because you will never make a profit selling women's hats."

"I'll take that under advisement." She joined him behind the front counter. "What are you doing? Are you looking for something?"

It would be so easy to say something to send her on her way. To get her the hell away from him because his system was overloaded.

To the hilt, so to speak. She heated his blood in a way he could not stop.

And he'd be smart to deny.

He hadn't forgotten the sweet taste of her kiss. Or the soft skin of her thighs, so smooth and hot.

And wasn't likely to.

He pulled open the last drawer and lifted the ledger. It was the only thing in the drawer.

Or so he thought. Until the candle light flickered and he caught sight of a note.

Just one scrap of paper.

But there was writing on it.

Familiar writing.

It was the clue, the sign he'd been looking for.

Fitzhugh really was alive. He gave a gasp of relief and reached for it.