Improper Gentlemen Read Online Free Page B

his partner, not the rabble-rouser.
    The crowd fell quieter, probably in anticipation of a showdown, the greedy cows.
    A muscle throbbed in Justin’s cheek. At least his so-called innocent would live to be haughty another day, if he did her fighting.
    “Ace Moreland’s here to see me.” Justin’s voice held steady on the biggest lie he’d ever told his partner. No way in hell would he allow her to be hurt—or the Georgia veteran to be bushwhacked by hypocritical townsfolk.
    He lifted her hand to his lips—and the sweet scent of lavender blurred his senses.
    “Don’t feed me that bullshit, Talbot.” Johnson glared at him from only a few feet away, his hazel eyes narrowed until they were almost yellow with rage. “We work together, like we have for the past ten years to build an empire.”
    “Not in this.” Justin kept his voice to the same harsh whisper his friend had used. “Not with a woman at stake.”
    “What’s different about her?” His saddle partner’s voice rose to a threatening growl. “You’ve never stayed with a lover for longer than a weekend, let alone flaunted one. Besides, Ace Moreland won’t settle down with any man.”
    “Certainly not you.” Moreland spoke for the first time, since Wolf Laurel’s mayor had burst onto the street. She nestled closer to Justin until her feathered bonnet teased his jaw.
    He knew damned well his face softened. Was it his fault he wanted to kiss her cheek and pull her closer?
    “Mr. Talbot’s invitation was irresistible.” Her rich voice deepened into a husky invitation to sin, unlike her earlier, sharper tones. “I find myself anticipating every minute in his company.”
    She stroked Justin’s hand with a cat’s elegant, anticipatory sensuality. Slow, drugging heat stirred to life within his blood and moved to follow her fingers’ every languid move.
    “I don’t believe either of you.” Johnson was still vehement.
    Everyone on the street had fallen silent in order to listen.
    How could he prove a prior connection to Moreland?
    “Go ahead and stick your head in the sand,” Justin drawled. “Miss Moreland and I will enjoy the music at the Hair Trigger Palace from my box.”
    “You’ll take Ace Moreland up to the top floor?”
    She jerked convulsively.
    A smirk broke over Johnson’s face and he slapped his thigh with a loud guffaw. “Pal, she will slap your face and bolt out of there faster than an overloaded mule breaking the plow’s traces.”
    Justin clenched his jaw against a profane retort to stop the Georgian’s ugly comments. Moreland saved him the difficulty.
    She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder like a cat claiming a well-loved fireside.
    “Mr. Talbot has promised me a most delightful show,” she purred. “Shall we go, darling?”
    Darling??? Oh yes, of course, she needed to use an endearment for her so-called lover, no matter what she truly thought of him.
    She smiled up at him from under her bonnet. Blue ribbons fluttered across her mantle, as if fighting the wind. Hell, that bit of cloth wasn’t worth a damn against a Colorado snowstorm, let alone a blizzard’s beginnings.
    “Sure. Afternoon, Johnson.” He touched his hat to Johnson. It’d be easier to talk when they didn’t have dozens of listeners eager to pass on gossip.
    The other Confederate veteran nodded, equally curt, and stood aside. His eyes were dark and calculating, which put his temper in the certain-to-rise-again category.
    Crap, now he looked like a stubborn pig. Justin bit back a sharp retort, out of courtesy to his lady.
    Johnson snorted, flipped him a rude gesture, and stomped back into his hotel.
    Pity they couldn’t settle this here and now with their fists, as they would have ten years ago.
    Moreland didn’t wait for them, God bless her, but hurried toward the closest building. She slipped on the Hair Trigger’s icy steps and Justin caught her in a single long stride. This time, her fingers clutched at his lapels and a whiff of her scent