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canteen to wash her hands off.
    He watched as she unbuttoned her shirtwaist, then glanced up at him. His gaze locked on her breasts and the air between them nearly crackled with awareness.
    “Is that enough?” Her voice came out a little hoarse.
    “No, you need to keep going. More buttons.” His tone was flat calm, damn it.
    She wasn’t sure if he wanted to see her bare herself entirely, which Olivia knew wasn’t outside the realm of possibility, or if he was telling her the truth about showing more.
    Three more buttons and she spread out the shirt so the entire top half of her chest was showing. Her breasts poked out, almost to the nipple. He licked his lips and her stomach jumped. She wanted to feel his tongue on her skin, on her lips, on her body. With a mental slap for her continued foolishness, Olivia pushed aside her attraction to the man. She had to keep her focus on the man she had to fool into thinking she was a whore.
    “Your hair too.” His voice had finally become deeper, huskier than it had been. She was immensely satisfied to see that he was as affected as she was. It gave her a certain amount of satisfaction to know she wasn’t the only one struggling with desire.
    Olivia pulled the pins from her hair and unraveled the braid.
    “Here, let me.” He stepped behind her and finger combed her hair, rubbing her scalp until she closed her eyes against the pleasure. No one had ever told her a head rub could be so pleasurable. She would have to remember how much she enjoyed it, because she sure as heck wanted to repeat this experience.
    Brody stepped away and walked around her. His gaze raked her up and down, then back again. His normally cool blue eyes were blazing hot when they finally met hers.
    “Well, hell, woman.”
    She preened inside at the expression on his face, the heat in his gaze. She felt a pure feminine pleasure at bringing a man to want her by simply looking at her.
    “You, ah, make a good ah ... you clean up good anyway.” He cleared his throat and walked back toward the horses.
    Olivia told herself she wasn’t disappointed. He hadn’t called her a good whore, but he hadn’t actually complimented her either. If she was respectable, there was no way she would have followed him, or killed two men, or dressed up like a fallen woman. If she was respectable, she would have been swooning about the whole day.
    Did that mean she wasn’t respectable? Perhaps, but she was feeling good about everything, including the way she’d protected herself and Brody. There was no way she would trade this experience for respectability.
    She fluffed her hair a little more and glanced down at her nearly exposed breasts. It was time to put on a show, and she hoped to God it was a good one.
    After tucking the pistol in her skirt pocket, Olivia arranged herself on the saddle and pronounced herself ready. Brody moved his coat so it partially covered the rifle. Sanchez would have to walk around to see the weapon if they played their parts right.
    “You will be my, ah, manager? Husband?” She wasn’t sure which role he would feel comfortable with.
    “I’ll be your brother.”
    That was unexpected. A brother wouldn’t be ogling her chest or looking at her as if he wanted to throw her on the ground and lose himself inside her.
    “I have four brothers. I don’t need another one.” She made a face at him, but he kept his eyes facing forward. “I think you should be my manager. You make business deals for me and I do the work on my back.” It sounded just as raw as it was. She knew there were women reduced to this kind of situation, women who had no one to help them. Olivia wouldn’t judge them for what they did because she was about to do almost the same thing. She would do anything for her family, no matter the cost.
    Brody didn’t answer her so she decided her idea was the best. They came up on the rise and she made sure to sit up straight, thrusting her chest as far forward as she could.
    A man appeared