Free Explaining Herself by Yvonne Jocks Page A

what she said. "It isn't?"
    But of course it wasn't. Her world was safe; his was dangerous. He'd done enough tonight without kissing her.
    "It was nice," she rushed to assure him, ducking her head. "I... liked it. But that's how my parents kiss when we're watching." Did she know how they kissed when she wasn 't watching? "I thought. . ."
    Laramie could not have guessed what she'd thought if she'd turned his own gun on him. That she drew her hands down his arms, onto his fists, didn't go far in helping him piece anything together.
    'You're shaking." She pulled gently at his curled fingers, until his palms opened for her. She didn't look up —all he saw of her was her curly dark hair—when she asked, "Didn't you like it? Should... should I apologize?"
    Her apologize? "I liked it," he whispered honestly.
    Only then did she tip her face up, her palms pressing into his, and she smiled. Laramie found himself staring into bright eyes, an angel's face, soft lips — pure beauty.
    "You did?" she asked, shy and pleased at the same time. "Oh, good."
    Then he took a quick step back from her, before he forgot himself again. What were they doing?
    "You need to go home now," he told her. He winced inwardly at the pain that glanced across her expression then. But of course she wouldn't leave it at that.
    "Why? What's wrong? You said you liked it." She took a step forward.
    He took a step back. "Shouldn't have."
    Her eyes widened with dismay he would rather have not seen. "Are you married?"
    The idea startled him enough to not back away any farther. "No!"
    "Well, thank goodness for that!" She poked out her lower lip and blew a heavy breath upwa rd, so it moved the dark hair th at fell across her forehead. "Are you engaged to be married?"
    He shook his head. Of course not.
    She smiled then, teasing. "Are you a priest?"
    Laramie stared at her.
    Victoria folded her arms, which had the effect — fortunate or unfortunate—of plumping her bosom beneath that prim blue calico of hers. He ought not be noticing, but could not look away. "Then I don't understand. Don't you like me?"
    He did not know how to answer so primed a question as that, except with more truth. "Yes. Now go home."
    "Why?"
    Because I am not a good man. Because you would not like my world. Because I vowed to kill somebody, and he might end up being someone you love.
    Her family had troubles the year of the lynching; she'd said so herself. And why had Mrs. Garrison concerned herself with an immigrant boy's welfare after ward? Had she spent her money from guilt about her son? Her husband?
    'You're keeping secrets," Victoria accused. "That means you don't trust me."
    But he couldn't trust her —any more than he'd been able to trust Julije. And he'd known Julije so much better. She'd been family.
    'You cannot trust me, either," he reminded her.
    "Oh." She blinked. "Well, then. I guess that's that." And, gathering her oddly wrinkled, drying skirts up around her white-shoed ankles, she squelched out of the clearing.
    Laramie ached, but not because of his wounds. He wished she hadn't kissed him, because now he knew what it tasted like. He wasn't sure he could stand a lesser woman's mouth against his again. It would seem blasphemous.
    He felt startled, hopeful, worried —more reactions than he could ever have corralled—when Victoria Garrison spun on him and demanded, 'You'll tell me what you find out about the Red Light, though, won't you?"
    The woman had a mind like a Texas Ranger's. Maybe that's why it was getting increasingly hard to lie to her.
    That, and the kiss. And her calling him Ross.
    "If I can." It would not be a matter of what he would know, after all. Just what he dared tell her.
    She nodded. "Meet me here on Friday, then."
    And foolishly, he nodded. After that kiss, he might agree to meet her in hell, if she told him to, even with her angry at him.
    Actually, he felt safer with her angry at him.
    So he saw it as unfortunate when she stopped scowling and lifted her chin.