His Wicked Dream (Velvet Lies, Book 2) Read Free Page B

him.
    "Your father's right," he growled, pushing her away.
    Shaking his head at the assistance she offered, he reached for the stall wall, hauling himself up, hand over hand. When he straightened, his knees wobbled, and his head spun. She reached for his arm, but again he shook her off, self-loathing roiling through his innards.
    "Bring me Brutus, and I'll take you to your father."
    "Brutus?" she repeated uncertainly.
    "The black gelding. Last stall on the right."
    "Oh. That's okay, mister. We can walk. I mean, I can walk. The wagon's not far, just a block or two—"
    "You're not walking anywhere by yourself in this neighborhood. And especially not at night."
    She bit her bottom lip. "Oh."
    Thanking God when she demurred for once, he clung to the top slat of the stall, his head bowed, his teeth gritted against the pain of each breath. "The saddle's... with the bridle... on the post," he gasped.
    "Found them!" she called.
    He shook his head, fighting the creep of fever. It occurred to him she might have trouble with Brutus. He was just thinking he should work his way to the rear of the livery when he heard approaching clip-clops. To his amazement, his three-year-old terror walked eagerly after her, wicked brown eyes trained on the pockets of her pinafore. She patted the gelding's nose, slipped him a carrot slice, and smiled shyly at Michael.
    "All ready."
    So she has a way with four-legged beasts too?
    He heaved himself into the saddle. The floor shifted disconcertingly beneath him; still, he managed to hold on to his blanket and right himself without diving headfirst across the pommel.
    "Open the door," he rasped.
    She hurried to obey, the essence of cooperation—until he lowered his hand for her.
    "Um..." Doubtful eyes swept up his boots, rested fleetingly on his hips, then bypassed the grip on his reins to lock squarely with his. "You sure you aren't going to fall off?"
    "You ask too many questions."
    She blushed again. Hiking her skirts, she grabbed his hand, her fingers all but disappearing in his fist. When he hoisted her before him, he marveled that anyone so full of spunk could feel so weightless.
    Woozy with fever, he nevertheless felt a resurgence of clarity as the tang of a rain-washed autumn slapped his senses. He braced himself against the wind, doing his best not to be distracted by the silken curls that floated like a cloud, caressing his throat and chin.
    "That way," she said, pointing to a vacant lot at the top of the street.
    Dimly, he saw the outline of a wagon, reminiscent of a house on wheels, as the moon steered through the thunderheads. He nodded, wrapping an arm around a waist no wider than his thigh, and spurred Brutus past the clapboard gaming houses of Whiskey Bend's tenderloin district. Shattering glass and raucous laughter mingled with the plinking of off-key pianos; the stench of offal floated past him on the wind. But honeysuckle, too, was carried on that breeze, wafting from the angel in his arms. He hated the fact that his baser nature could be stirred by anything as sweet and trusting as that woman-child. The sooner he got rid of her, the sooner he could find a hole to crawl into.
    An interminable five minutes later, he reined in before the crate that served as the wagon's doorstep. He had the fleeting impression of bold black lettering on the wall, a calligraphic scrawl across chipping blue paint. An Irish name, "Mallory," was splashed above "Medical Doctor" on the door. Two windows were set into the compact quarters. A lamp burned in both, but he couldn't see beyond the pristine muslin to the furnishings inside.
    "Looks like your father's been waiting for you," he said gruffly.
    He swept her off the saddle, and she clung to his forearm, kicking up her petticoats until her toes touched the crate.
    "You could at least come in," she said in disgruntled tones, tossing the hair out of her eyes.
    "This isn't a courting call."
    She shot him an exasperated look. "I didn't mean it like... Hey!