A Wanted Man
much him but the loss of a fantasy she’d nurtured even as she understood it was unlikely: that someday, in some way, she would find a man who could look at her without immediately thinking: Laura Hamilton, the Baron’s daughter.
    Foolish girl.
    He studied her closely. Predatory eyes, cool and dark. He did not miss a detail, this one, his focus intense as a hunting cat on its prey. Except she was not his prey.
    She was merely his assignment.
    “I said that—”
    “I know,” she interrupted, wincing at her rudeness but unwilling to listen to him say it again, laid out bare. She forced a laugh; she could not allow this to be important. “It just took me a moment for my brain to catch up with my ears.”
    She stepped around Mrs. Bossidy. It brought her close to him, far too near for either propriety or wisdom, until the warm, dark scent of him entwined with the smell of the night, her nose level with his chest. She tilted her chin up, made her smile go cool and reserved. She had never been able to pull off haughty for any length of time, but it was an effective weapon in her mother’s arsenal, wielded when her warmth and charm had been perhaps too effective. But in this case Laura far preferred being thought the spoiled rich girl than one wounded by her own ridiculous yearnings. It was not as if he’d courted her. He’d merely…been there, and her own imagination supplied the rest.
    “For heaven’s sake, Laura, he’s got their guns, you’ve no idea if he’s telling the truth. Get out of here until I can investigate the matter.” Dimly, she heard Mrs. Bossidy speak behind her, felt her tug at her waist in an attempt to pull her away. But they were minorinconveniences, only barely registered, as if his nearness overwhelmed all else.
    “I’m not going anywhere,” Laura said. “Not until I’ve had the opportunity to get to know my new…bodyguard.”
    The last word came out with heavy emphasis, a seductress’s purr of innuendo she’d never used, surprising herself. His teeth flashed, a quick smile that vanished a second later but left an impression just the same, so strong she momentarily forgot everything but that fleeting power. My, my, she thought. It really is a good thing he rarely does that. It’s too potent a weapon to be unleashed on the world on a regular basis.
    He flicked his wrists, spinning the guns in his hands so they were butt forward. They hung there in the air until he glanced briefly at his would-be captors. “Well? Don’t you want your guns back?”
    Hiram grunted, Mr. Hoxie yelped, scrambling to grab their weapons with such belated haste that Laura worried they’d go off in the process.
    Once they’d retrieved them, Peel and Hoxie held their weapons awkwardly, as if they weren’t quite sure what to do with them. Did they aim them back on him? Holster them?
    He addressed Mrs. Bossidy. “Feel better now?”
    “Not particularly, no.” She was still behind Laura, her hands at Laura’s waist as if she was prepared to throw her to the ground and cover the girl’s body with hers at the slightest need. “Who are you?”
    Laura sucked in a quick breath. She’d wondered a hundred times since she’d first seen him. And yet there was a part of her that didn’t want to know. The more she learned of him, the more real he became, the lessthe fantasy man that she could build into anything and anyone she wanted.
    “Sam Duncan.”
    Erastus Hoxie gasped, his arm slumping to his side. Afraid the gun would drop to the ground, Laura bent and rescued it. Then, realizing what she held, she turned and thrust it into Mrs. Bossidy’s hand.
    “Good move,” Duncan said.
    She refused to be flattered by his approval. Her father was paying him; she must not forget that.
    “Are you really Sam Duncan?” Mr. Hoxie asked, as much awe written on his face as though President Garfield had just popped up in front of him.
    “You want a demonstration?”
    “I’d say we just had one,” Hiram said, frowning,

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