Free Cowboy Heat by Delilah Devlin

hell kind of arrangement was that? The need to defend overtook him, and he swung from the saddle, tossing the reins onto a nearby bush. “That water sure looks good. You about finished here?” With quick jerks, he loosened the knot in the kerchief from around his neck and swabbed it across his throat.
    “Sure, why not?” The woman spun and stroked across the pool.
    Thick welts crisscrossed her back, and Bo winced at the sight of her severe punishment, his gut shriveling into a knot. He’d seen marks like that before on captives of Indian tribes.
    “I’m getting my clothes. Turn around.”
    Grinning, Bo pulled out the tails of his shirt and turned his back to the pool. That swim was gonna feel real good. Washing off the trail dust was just what he needed.
    A rock bounced into the water with a plop. “The pool is yours.”
    “Thank you, ma’am.” Hands on his belt buckle, he pivoted on his boot heel and spotted her at the head of the trail, clad in a fringed buckskin Indian dress, her feet encased in moccasins. Her pale skin and wavy red hair contrasted with the clothing, but the brandished knife looked like it fit. “Might I know your name?”
    “Meghan Hegarty.” A shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I’m the local healer.” With a smooth move, she sheathed the knife into the scabbard hanging at her waist and walked out of sight.
    For several seconds, he stood in place, his thoughts on the puzzle the strange woman presented. Then he shucked his clothes, piled them on his saddle, and waded into the pool untilhe could duck beneath the surface, letting the cool water sluice the grit from his body. Ah, so refreshing. Five strokes took him across the pool, and he tucked to turn in the opposite direction and surfaced, blinking water away from his eyes.
    A double-action metallic ratchet filled the air.
    Bo jerked his head to the edge of the pool where Midnight waited. Aw, hell . His chest pinched.
    Beside the horse stood Meghan, his rifle leveled at her hip. “That’s right, swim over here.”
    “What are you doing?”
    “Climb out and get on your clothes. We’re going for a ride.”
    He glanced around, searching for a way out of this mess. “I’ve got three bucks in my saddlebags. Sorry, but payday’s not for another two weeks.” As he walked forward, the water dipped lower along his muscled frame. Two final strides brought him to the damp dirt at the edge of the pool. Water ran off his body in rivulets and pooled at his feet. He jammed his hands on his hips.
    Meghan’s gaze dropped to his waist, and her eyes widened, the gun wavering a few inches lower. She bit her lower lip and then a slow smile grew.
    His traitorous body reacted to her response, and his cock lengthened along his thigh. “Toss me my clothes.”
    Keeping her gaze locked on him, she raised her left hand to the saddle, grabbed his jeans, and tossed them his way.
    Bo caught the warmed denim and shoved his feet into the pant legs. How had he let a female get the drop on him? In ten years of bounty hunting, that had only occurred once. That one incident prompted his decision to leave the job of searching for outlaws to younger gun hands. Much safer to hunt down stray cattle.
    Until now.
    “My shirt?” When he turned, Meghan had stepped back several feet.
    “Won’t need it. Grab your boots and let’s get going.” She waved the rifle toward Midnight with a jerk.
    He eyed the strap of his holster around the saddle horn. Maybe he could get his pistol while stepping into his boots. Or he could slip a hand into the saddlebag where he kept his spare revolver. At Midnight’s side, he leaned a shoulder against the horse’s withers as he brushed pebbles off the bottom of his foot. But the angle was wrong—she’d see any attempt to reach a weapon. Pissed at being at her mercy, he stomped into his boots and reached for his shirt still lying across the saddle.
    Pain exploded in the back of his head and his vision went black.
    Meghan struggled, her