An Unlikely Lady Read Free

banister, the other propped lightly on her hip. A mass of thick, amber ringlets tumbled from her crown down her back, with stray wisps framing a fine-boned face that belonged on a cameo pin. Slender brows arched over wide eyes with impossibly long, sweeping lashes, her nose was small and narrow bridged, and her mouth . . . Jess swallowed hard. Oh, mercy. Lips that ripe and full were known to lead a man down the long road to trouble and make him thank God for the trip.
    Even the dress she wore should have been outlawed. Jess swore the shimmering red silk hugging her figure from bodice to knee hadbeen designed solely to drive a man crazed with lust. And if all that red wasn’t enough torture, black lace edged the slopes of her breasts and wrapped around her waist to form a ruffled bow at the low of her back.
    â€œHonesty, why don’t you show Mister—”
    â€œJesse,” he supplied, finding his voice. “Jesse Jones.” The false name fell from his lips with surprising ease, considering his tongue seemed to have affixed itself to the roof of his mouth.
    â€œShow Mr. Jones to his room while I scare up something for supper?”
    â€œSure thing, Rose,” she replied in a spun velvet voice that wrapped around Jesse’s vitals. “Follow me, cowboy.”
    Anywhere, he thought, watching black lace brush across her red satin clad bottom as she started up the stairs. A forgotten fever surged through his bloodstream and settled below his buckle. With her being just a few inches shorter than his own five feet eleven, it didn’t take a scientist to figure that their bodies would fit together like heat on fire, and the picture that formed in his mind sent desire slamming through him with the force of a cannon ball. Jesse saw himself walking up behind her, pulling her back against his front, her bottom to his groin, sliding his hands down either side of her rib cage, her hips, her thighs, then slippingup again beneath her hem to the dark stockings beneath . . .
    She paused on a middle step and twisted around. The up and down gander she gave Jesse, as if judging his worth, left him with the impression that she found him sorely lacking. “Are you coming?”
    Not yet, but he would if he stared at her much longer—right here in the middle of the Scarlet Rose.
    Jess thanked the week’s growth of whiskers for hiding the color heating his cheeks. Never in all his thirty years had he felt such a swift and immediate response toward a woman; the fact that one sultry-eyed saloon girl could affect him so strongly, and at a time when he needed all his wits about him, left an acrid taste in his mouth. “I’ll be along after I’ve seen to my horse,” Jesse announced, pushing away from the bar. Best put some distance between himself and this lush-lipped distraction till he got himself under control.
    With a tip of his hat, he strode out the door.
    Long after he disappeared from sight, Honesty stared after him, her mouth agape, her heart tapping faster than musician’s spoons. Never in all her born days had a man looked at her like that—as if he’d waited his whole life to see her and finally got the chance. It washumbling and astonishing and . . . thrilling. Every inch of her skin tingled, and a strange, faintly wicked sensation danced deep in her belly.
    â€œYou gonna give me a hand, or are you gonna stand around gawking all day?”
    Wrenched from her musings, Honesty snapped around to find Rose watching her with amusement. Good cow feathers, what was wrong with her? If she didn’t know better, she’d think the feelings their guest had stirred inside her were desire. Honesty shook off the disturbing thought. Impossible. The only feeling men roused in her anymore was disgust.
    â€œI wasn’t gawking,” she denied, following Rose into the kitchen.
    â€œYou were gawking. Not that I blame you—that one’s got the