Read [Montacroix Royal Family Series 03] - The Outlaw for Free Online

her, he ran his hands first down her arms, then her legs. When his probing touch drew a response, he took her ragged moan as a good sign and unbuttoned her denim and suede jacket.
    Beneath the jacket she was wearing a silk shirt. It crossed his mind that the combination of rough denim and silk was an intriguing, if unorthodox, choice. It also made it more difficult to pinpoint exactly who— and what—she was.
    Most of the women who wore denim in territorial Arizona were miners' wives, who labored long hard days working hardscrabble claims alongside their husbands.
    Silk was reserved for whores and the occasional cavalry commander's wife who quickly learned that the fabric was highly impractical in a place where, too often, the laundry was beaten to near death in huge copper kettles over a fire.
    The fact that this woman was not wearing a wedding band suggested she was no officer's wife. And her complexion was too smooth, her skin too soft, her scent too subtle for a whore.
    Her blouse was fastened with tiny pearl buttons that echoed the pearls adorning her earlobes. Having traveled among the royalty of Europe, Wolfe recognized the pearl earrings to be of excellent quality. Nearly as excellent as the icy diamond she was wearing on the fourth finger of her left hand.
    Whoever this woman was, she was obviously wealthy. Which meant, Wolfe determined grimly, that when she didn't arrive wherever she'd been headed, people would undoubtedly begin searching for her.
    Frustration laced with impatience roughened his touch as he continued to probe for injuries. When his fingers pressed against a rib, she flinched. When they moved down her side, she moaned.
    But still her eyes did not open.
    Assuring himself that his interest was solely that of the Good Samaritan, Wolfe unbuttoned her silk blouse. Rocking back on his heels, he gazed in surprise at the skimpy band of flowered lace that barely covered her breasts in lieu of a more proper camisole.
    Her torso was bare. Her flesh was as smooth as her silk blouse and distractingly fragrant. From what he could tell, her ribs were not broken, but merely bruised.
    When his fingers brushed against the sides of her breasts, her lids flew open and he found himself suddenly staring down into a pair of eyes that were as crystal blue as the lakes in the territory's high country.
    Again a faint memory stirred in the far reaches of his mind, one Wolfe could not quite grasp.
    She stared in disbelief at the man glaring down at her. "I don't understand—"
    "Your buggy ran in front of my horse." Wolfe knew he sounded overly defensive, but didn't apologize. "It overturned and you were thrown out."
    "My buggy." Noel thought about that for a moment and decided this had to be another dream. "And you're Wolfe Longwalker."
    "You've got the wrong man," he lied gruffly.
    "No." She studied him, her solemn gaze moving slowly over his face. "It's you."
    "What do you want with Longwalker?"
    "I want to help him."
    It was his turn to study her. She appeared to be telling the truth. But there was still the unpalatable fact that if this mere woman could locate him out in the middle of nowhere, the posse would undoubtedly be close behind. Before he could respond, her eyes fluttered shut again and her hand fell to her side. Wolfe shook her shoulders in an attempt to rouse her, and failed.
    "Hell." Frustrated, he stood up, his hands braced on his hips and stared down at her. Nearby, his mare whinnied, as if reminding him that they didn't have all day.
    The woman was a pitiful sight. Her long yellow hair was wet and matted, bruises marred her face and her bottom lip was rapidly swelling from a cut she'd received in the accident.
    She was also too thin for his personal taste. Her breasts, barely covered by that immodest scrap of lace and silk were too small to make a decent handful, and her complexion, even for an Anglo, was too pale. Yet, even as he assured himself that he felt no attraction for this unconscious female,