Free This Fierce Splendor by Iris Johansen Page A

exasperation, he found himself reluctantly admiring her courage.
    Good God, if he continued in this vein, in another minute he would be feeling sorry for her, and that he refused to do. She was not only making him a laughingstock, but trying to force him into doing something he had no intention of doing. He’d be damned if he’d permit her to succeed in either. If she wanted a battle of wills, he would give it to her. He could hold out a hell of a lot longer than his so-called “shadow.”
    He would
not
feel sorry for her. She deserved her plight dammit, she’d brought it on herself. “One way or the other I’ll make sure she gets out of my hair—and soon.” He gave one last glance at Elspeth’s forlorn figure through the lacy veil of the curtains. She was standing very stiff, her back straight as a rod. Too stiff. He knew what that ironlike rigidity indicated. There had been times when he had been on the dodge he’d had to ride days without rest, periods when his physical strength had been stretched to the limit. It was during those times that he had ridden with a back as straight as Elspeth MacGregor’s was now. For he had known that to relax even a little would have been to collapse entirely.
    The heat was stiflingly hot here in the parlor. He could feel the sweat trickling down his spine. The rays of the burning sun must make the outside heat a hundred times worse, he reasoned. Elspeth looked infinitely fragile standing there with no protection but that blasted parasol. The shadow case by the parasol made the soft, fair skin of her neck appear terribly delicate. Her neck
was
delicate. He could suddenly feel again its silky yet vulnerable skin beneath his palm.
    “Christ,” he muttered through clenched teeth. What an idiot the woman was. It was a wonder she hadn’t collapsed already. “Goddammit, tell Li Tong to take one of the kitchen chairs and some water out to her.”
    He pulled away from Rina and strode swiftly out of the parlor.
    “Miss MacGregor.”
    Elspeth turned as she was about to go out the door to look back inquiringly. Mr. Judkins, the proprietor of the hotel, was gazing at her with a troubled expression. “Yes?” she inquired softly.
    “You shouldn’t ought to go out this time of night, ma’am.” He nibbled worriedly at his almost nonexistent lower lip. “Not alone. I’d be glad to get one of my boys to go with you.”
    She smiled gratefully at the small gray-haired man. Mr. Judkins had been very kind to her in the past few days. “I don’t think that will be necessary. I have no intention of being gone long.” Her smile widened. “Besides, I’ve been treated with the greatest courtesy by everyone in Hell’s Bluff since the moment I stepped off the stage. I’m beginning to believe the stories about wild western towns have been exaggerated. I felt more frightened in Edinburgh in broad daylight than I do going out after dark here.”
    “There’s more womenfolk in those big cities. I guess people get used to having them around and forget what it’s like to be without them,” Mr. Judkins said. “Ladies are precious as gold out here, and that’s how we treat them.”
    “Then there’s nothing at all to be concerned about, is there, Mr. Judkins?”
    He hesitated. “Ma’am, I’m not worried about anybody in his right senses bothering you. A man in these parts would know we’d string him up quick as a jackrabbit if he offered a lady like you any insult, but rotgut whiskey has a way of addling a man’s brain.”
    Elspeth felt a cold chill run through her, not at the implied danger but at the casual coldness of the man’s words. Hang a man for merely offering a drunken insult? No, he must be exaggerating to make her feel more secure. “I’ll be back soon,” she assured him once more. “I’m certain that if I have any trouble, there will be someone nearby who will be as kind as youare, Mr. Judkins.” She gave him another smile and closed the mahogany door behind