The Outlaw and the Lady Read Free

man.
    “Keep your bloody hands off me!”
    As though she’d slapped him, he jerked back and held out his hands. “There is no blood on them.” A thousand scrubbings had washed it away. “Why do you say they are bloody?”
    She rolled her eyes as though he had no more sense than a fence post. “It’s an expression…like ‘damned.’”
    “So it is profanity?”
    “Yes, British in nature. My father and his friends use it constantly. Bloody. Bloody hell. Bloody damned. Bloody damned hell.” She fired each word with the precision of a well-aimed bullet.
    He bore his gaze into her, a practiced look thatcaused most men to flinch. She simply ignored him. “ Señorita , I think you use too much profanity.”
    “I truly don’t think you’re the one to instruct me in the art of social graces.”
    Her words struck a nerve. What did he know about the finer aspects of life except that he longed for them? “Make yourself useful. Gather up some kindling for a small fire.”
    He was surprised when she slowly turned, stepped forward, reached down, and picked up a twig. He did not quite trust her acquiescence. She had been fighting like a wildcat outside the bank. He had a feeling she was gauging her surroundings, plotting her escape. He would have to watch her vigilantly, but that chore would be no hardship.
    Roberto grabbed the reins of Lee’s horse and led him away. Lee sauntered to a nearby tree. Leaning against it, he studied the woman. Her red hair had been caught up into a neat bun when he’d rammed into her in front of the bank. Now it had fallen to one side, threatening to spill free of the pins that held it in place. He was incredibly tempted to help it along, remove the pins, and watch it cascade over her shoulders, along her back.
    Bending to pick up more twigs, she unwittingly gave him the pleasure of gazing at her small, rounded backside covered by the finest of materials. Perfection.
    She bolted upright and glared over her shoulder at him as though she knew exactly where he’dbeen staring. Arching a brow, he flashed a cocky grin. She snapped her head around and dragged her feet as though she was a mutinous little girl who’d just been punished. He did not think she was afraid as much as she was angry. For some strange reason, that knowledge pleased him.
    Alejandro snatched his bandanna from Lee’s fingers before tilting his head toward the woman. “What are you going to do with her?”
    Lee shook his head. “I don’t know.”
    “What were you thinking to drag her off?”
    He sighed heavily. “For five years no one has seen my face. I wanted to protect my identity. In retrospect, a stupid move.”
    “Hurry up, puta !” Jorge called out. “We don’t have much time.”
    “Jorge!” Lee scolded. “Do not call her that, hombre . It does not make you tough. It only makes you mean.”
    “We are outlaws. We are supposed to be mean,” Jorge retorted like a petulant child before crouching to set the branches he’d gathered into place.
    “I told you not to bring him,” Alejandro said.
    “What choice did I have? He was shadowing our trail. I would rather have him where I can see him than find out that he is in trouble and I cannot get there in time to save him.”
    “You saved us once,” Alejandro said quietly. “You cannot save us always.”
    “I can try. I owe it to the memory of our parents to always try.”
    “They would not expect you—”
    “I expect it of myself, Alejandro. That is the way of it.”
    Lee returned his attention to the woman. She was incredibly slow at gathering kindling, shuffling her feet along the ground. He smiled with the knowledge that she was attempting to stall them. She lurched forward and quickly caught her balance.
    “She will slow us down,” Alejandro said.
    “ Sí . If we have to, we will split up.”
    “That is a very nice dress she is wearing,” Alejandro murmured. “Perhaps she has a rich husband who will pay a ransom for her.”
    “She has no