His Most Wanted Read Online Free Page A

a glare. “I coulda kept an eye on him. Any one of us coulda.”
    â€œYes, and see what happened.” Millie folded her slender arms over her chest. “Andrea took a punch and got robbed. Even worse might’ve happened to the poor dear. All because you wanted to keep the gunslinger to yourself.”
    Cora tossed the towel at Millie’s feet. Boiling at their selfish accusations, she glanced about for more to throw. Luckily, the parlor held nothing fragile enough to satisfy her temper. “How dare you! Both of you. You know I would never leave you exposed to danger to dally with a customer. When Wainwright passed out, you two helped me drag him to my room. There was no question about it.”
    â€œYour room was the closest to the door. We had no choice. But we didn’t make you stay with him.” Millie pouted.
    â€œYou saw what he did to that thief. I had to disarm him, and I was afraid if he awoke and found his weapon missing, he might—”
    â€œPlease. We saw him shoot the bastard.” Bernadette rolled her eyes. “But we also saw Wainwright just now. Don’t tell me you didn’t like having him in your bed.”
    Millie nodded. “Right. And he seemed to enjoy whatever you did with him last night.”
    â€œAnd we overheard the two of you talking. You didn’t correct him when he offered his next token for you.” Bernadette’s shoulder butted against Millie’s. Clearly, the two were of one mind.
    â€œNothing happened. He passed out.” Cora scoffed, “Do you two think I should’ve told him he didn’t get his money’s worth? Hardly. What Mr. Wainwright doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
    Millie turned to Bernadette’s ear and murmured, “I don’t know why she won’t admit she played with him. Just because the three of us don’t earn money, doesn’t mean we have to be abstinent.”
    Bernadette leered at Cora. “A kitten’s gotta play with her prey—”
    â€œYou’re both being outrageous. I don’t sleep with the clients, and you know it. You’re behaving like…” Her mother had warned her never to allow her employees to make decisions. Now those two probably thought they could say anything without consequences. Cora wheeled her back to them. “Never mind. I’m through with this discussion. I was wrong to leave the parlor in your hands. That I’ll admit.”
    She heard their squawks of protest as she marched to the back of the house and into her office, so she slammed the door behind her. Her pulse drilled with anger as she rounded her desk and collapsed into the chair.
    It’s my fault.
    Certainly, it was. Just this one time, she’d thought it would be okay to let her ladies take charge. It had only been for a few hours. The local men knew her expectations—buy a token, enjoy a romp with one of the women, leave a happier man. Except the customer who’d visited Andrea’s bed had paid in cash, directly to her, and when he’d finished his business, he’d struck her down, taking his money back before he fled the premises. No one had been there to stop him.
    Why? Because Cora had been in bed with a gunslinger.
    Not just any gunslinger though. A silver-tongued charmer with a granite chest and eyes like mountain spring water. She could still picture them, like looking into glass that warmed at her touch. And she could also hear his silken voice sharing intimate things about himself as he’d whispered in her ear while she’d relieved him of his stained shirt.
    Growing up the daughter of a madam, she’d been propositioned nearly every day for as far back as she could remember. The taunts and offers had become as common and meaningless as dust motes in the air, but coming from Kit Wainwright, the words had struck a chord.
    He’d been drunk. Dead drunk. He probably had no idea what he’d said, and it