The Lady and the Lawman (4 page)

Mean
as he was, Croft didn’t see the harm in bargaining with more than
horseflesh. Grant shook his head in disgust. What had this card game
turned into?

“
Hell,
Croft,” Grant complained.

Croft
blustered. “She’s better off with me than the man who had her,
Sheriff. At least here, she gets a roof over her head and a way to
earn her keep. Tonight, gentlemen, one of you can sample the goods
before anyone else in this town. I’m doing her, and whoever wins,
a favor.”

Grant
didn’t buy this harebrained scheme. He wouldn’t put it past Croft
to force one of his new girls to act the ‘virgin’ for a night to
get out of a sticky poker game. Trust was not something Grant put in
many, especially the low-life saloon owner.

It
seemed neither did Dalton.

“
A
virgin?” Dalton laughed, a cigar clamped between his teeth. “Come
on, Croft. Do you think I’m that stupid?”

Croft
just shook his head. “I don’t rightly care if you believe me or
not. One of you’ll find out soon enough.”

“
There’s
nothing illegal going on here, is there, Croft?” Of course there
was, but as sheriff, he had to give the man the benefit of the doubt.
Without any evidence to the contrary, Grant had to let the man play
his games, sick as they were.

Croft
looked stunned he’d even suggest such behavior. “Of course not,
Sheriff.”

“
I'm
not betting on anything I haven't seen, especially a woman.
Especially a woman I’m going to take upstairs and bed in a few
minutes,” Dalton insisted.

Cocky
bastard. Dalton wasn’t above using and abusing a woman, or even
worse, a virgin. Grant knew firsthand how Dalton treated women.
Instead of backing out of the game and heading home to bed like he’d
wanted, Grant now had to see this woman Croft offered. If she needed
protection from the likes of Dalton, it was his job as sheriff to
provide it.

“
Fine,
fine,” Croft replied. “I understand.”

“
Well,
what are you waiting for?” Dalton demanded. “Are you slow or just
stupid?”

That
shook the saloon owner into motion. “Jimmy!” Croft shouted. A
young man appeared from behind the bar, wiped his hands on a rag and
laid it over his shoulder. “Watch my cards while I’m gone.”

“
Don’t
trust a man of the law, Croft?” Grant asked.

Croft
glanced briefly at him, but was smart enough not to answer.

Jimmy
stood uncomfortably in front of the men, like a fish out of water
without the bar in front of him. He nodded to Grant. “Sheriff.”

“
Jimmy,
how’s your wife these days?”

“
Lorna?
She’s pregnant again.” The man shook his head. Strange, he seemed
surprised his wife could be having another child. After four, the man
should’ve figured out where they came from.

“
Well,
these things happen.” Grant hid his smile behind his whiskey glass.
Practice was one thing, but a gaggle of kids was something else.
Grant sure as hell liked to practice. He shifted in his chair at the
thought.

Croft
returned minutes later, pulling a woman by the arm. He dismissed the
bartender with a curt nod and Jimmy appeared relieved to return to
his work.

Grant
studied the woman Croft had dragged to stand beside him, unsteady on
her high heeled shoes. She was a sight to behold. A prize Dalton
would want to win. Her dark, silky hair hung loose down her back like
a waterfall, with tendrils cascading around her face in soft curls,
brushing her bare neck and back. Her skin looked pale and creamy
against the bold colors of her gaudy outfit. The color of her cheeks
and lips matched the red of her corset and petticoat. Beneath the red
stain he could see her mouth was full and round, luscious. Her eyes
were a dark green, as clear and cool as the grass on a spring
morning. Dark lashes fluttered beneath arched brows.

In
one large swallow, Grant gulped down the whiskey. Damn, he wanted
her. What red-blooded male wouldn’t? He couldn't help that his
pants didn't fit so comfortably anymore.

Grant’s
gaze continued to rake over her, taking in the daring outfit, not
unlike the other women’s attire in the establishment, and honed in
on her full breasts topping her corset like two soft globes. His
blood heated, thinking of all that was hidden beneath the red lace
and silk. Her breasts were large, more than a handful. What kind of
nipples would she have? Large, full ones with pink tips or little
round disks the color of dusk? His fingers itched to find out. To
tweak them into hard points for him to suck on. Good thing he could
hide his growing desire under the table. As sheriff, it was his job
to protect her, not maul her like the other men in the building.

The
woman, and she definitely was a woman and not a girl,
struggled
against Croft’s grip, but was unsuccessful at loosening the man’s
tight hold. Her eyes darted between the men at the table and
repeatedly glanced at Grant. He found himself staring right back. He
couldn't help it. He'd never seen her before, and that surprised him.
No one new, especially a woman like her, rolled into town without the
gossip mills grinding the details his way.

The
woman didn’t seem to relish the idea of being the subject of a
wager. She looked scared, like a cornered animal. Was she acting, or
was her fear real? Did Croft put her up to this? For the life of him,
he couldn’t tell. The only way to do so was to get her upstairs and
ask her. To protect her if she needed it. That meant he had to win.

Croft
brought a callused hand up to her bare shoulder and brushed his
fingers along her collarbone. “Gentleman. Do you accept my wager?”
A crooked smile spread across his face, then quickly faded. His meaty
fingers lowered to skim the full swell of her breast. “Winner takes
all.”

Grant
could see the bastard regretted his wager and wanted one last touch
of something that was slipping through his fingers. Watching the
woman flinch from Croft’s touch made Grant's hands turn into fists
under the table. He looked to Dalton and recognized the look of a
man’s desire, and his thoughts turned even darker.

Grant
wanted his fingers to be stroking her breast, not Croft's, and
definitely not Dalton's.

She
tried to break free,
fighting
against
Croft’s tight hold. “Leave me alone, you filthy animal!”

Dalton,
and a few men who’d returned to watch the game, laughed. Clearly
they were enjoying the
playacting
.

A
little
make-believe
,
especially in the bedroom, wasn't beneath Grant either. In fact, the
very idea of having this woman bow to his wishes was arousing as
hell.

Croft
yanked her arm, twisted her around to face him so hard that her curls
flew, and slapped her hard across the cheek. If he hadn't been
holding her so securely, she would have fallen to the floor.

“
Don't
make me do that again,” Croft hissed, face red with anger at having
one of his women out of line in front of his customers.

Grant
stood abruptly, his chair skidding against the floor. The man’s
brutality was more than
pretend
.
A little role play and submission was one thing. Hitting a woman, for
any reason, was something else entirely. Something Grant could not,
would not, ever condone.

“
Let
her go, Croft.” He towered over the saloon owner. His size and the
seriousness of his tone had the impact Grant wanted. Croft released
the woman, who held her hand to her reddening cheek.

He'd
expected her to cry out in surprise, or from the severity of the
strike, see tears streaming down her cheeks. But that didn’t
happen. Instead, her eyes shot daggers at Croft.

Something
was wrong here. He could feel it in his gut. Croft wasn’t doing
anything illegal having one of his whores play the part of a virgin,
but from what he’d seen so far, especially the slap, he couldn’t
be sure if she actually was one. Hell, she looked the part, but the
question was, was she genuine or simply
acting
a
role?

There
was something fresh and pure about her that the other women carousing
with the cow punchers didn’t possess. Especially the one in the
corner with her petticoat up around her ears. He needed to be sure.
To validate what his gut was telling him, and his gut was never
wrong.

“
Miss,
are you aware of what’s going on here?”

Her
eyes darted to Croft, clearly afraid to answer.

“
Now
Sheriff, there’s nothing illegal going on!” Croft stammered.

Grant
held up his hand. “I want to hear that from the lady.” His gaze
held hers. Emeralds. Her eyes sparkled like the green gems. She was
the prettiest thing he'd seen in a long, long time.

She
brushed her hand
over her reddened cheek. “Yes, I’m aware,” she replied. Her
voice was soft, but delicate, like a new spring flower.

Croft
released a pent up breath and smiled. “See, Sheriff, nothing to get
all worked up about.”

Grant
continued to watch her, still doubtful. Since she confirmed Croft’s
story, there was nothing more he could do. For now. He paused,
waiting for her to change her story. When she just looked at him, her
full lips pinched tightly together, he nodded and sat back down.

“
Now
then, do you accept my wager, Dalton?” Croft questioned.

Grant
turned to Dalton, who'd said nothing through the whole encounter. The
man’s gaze was locked on the woman’s breasts where Croft’s
gnarled fingers had lingered. In fact, every man within ten feet had
their eyes focused on the woman's ample endowment. But there was a
look, a sinister look, that was obvious at least to Grant, that the
bastard enjoyed watching women suffer and struggle under a man's
hand. If Dalton won, there was no doubt what the woman's evening
would be like. Bondage, pain and humiliation. It wouldn't be rape
since she was one of Croft's whores. She'd be forced to like Dalton's
attentions, no matter how dark and seedy there were, and say nothing.
Then she'd let the next man have her. And then the next.

“
Dalton!”
Grant said forcefully, trying to move Dalton's gaze.

“
I
accept your wager,” Dalton replied. “Masterson?”

It
was all or nothing. Do or die time. He had to decide once and for all
if he was in or out. Another look at the beautiful woman and his
instincts were telling him something wasn’t right. But, she’d had
the opportunity to gain his help and she’d refused. That being the
case, sheriff or not, he was a man. He wanted her. He wanted her as
much as he wanted Dalton to lose. No way Dalton was going to lay one
finger on her. She was his. “I’m in. I’ll wager my horse, as
well.”

“
Damn,
but I hate to give one of you first dibs with her,” Croft grumbled
as he pulled the woman down into an empty chair next to him, keeping
her close. Grant couldn't help notice how the tops of her breasts
jiggled with the movement. Clamping his jaw tight, he focused on
winning. Winning her. She would be his. He knew it deep down. He'd
have her, know the feel of her soft skin, her creamy breasts, her wet
pussy clenching about his cock as she cried out his name and she
found her release.

Finally,
with all bets resolved, they returned to the game. The men studied
their hands.

“
How
many cards?” Dalton demanded.

Grant
asked for one, Croft two. Dalton took one. Grant ignored the woman
and stared across the table at the other men. She was a beautiful
distraction and he needed to stay focused. This is where it was all
decided. No one moved, tension building between the men. It came down
to these cards. For Grant, the stakes had never been so high.