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

and bubbled out as rich and warm as the hearty beef stew bubbling away on the back burner of the cast-iron stove.
    "You always have had a tendency to play Sir Galahad."
    Wolfe hated being flattered for something he considered a deep and vastly embarrassing personal flaw. "Why don't you just tell me where to put her?"
    "Mary's off visiting her cavalry officer in Prescott. You know, I think there may just be a marriage brewing there." Belle grinned. She was not one to begrudge her girls happiness whenever and wherever they could find it. "We can use her room. We'd better go up the back stairs, though," she decided. "No point risking anyone seein' you."
    He followed her up the narrow wooden servants' stairs and was making his way down the hall, when a door opened and a man came out of one of the bedrooms . Wolfe quickly turned toward the wall so as not to be recognized, but such evasive movement didn't prove necessary since Oliver Platt, president of the Whiskey River First National Bank and Trust, and founder of the Citizens for Decency League, scurried past in a dense cloud of bay rum, eyes directed to the carpet. Obviously, he was no more eager to be recognized than Wolfe.
    The woman the banker had been with leaned against the doorframe and eyed Wolfe with amusement. "I don't remember you ever carrying me up those stairs, Wolfe." Beneath a peroxide fringe of yellow curls, the woman's brown eyes danced with amusement.
    "I don't recall your ever needing carrying, Lucy," Wolfe answered. "Seems to me, you're usually dragging me upstairs."
    "Only because a good man is hard to find," Lucy responded saucily. She put a red-tipped fingernail into her mouth, tilted her head and gave him a lusty look. "Or is that a hard man is good to find?" she mused aloud. "I always get those mixed up."
    "You? Mixed-up?" Despite his dire circumstances, Wolfe laughed. "You've got a mind like a steel trap, Lucy, my love." He had, after all, seen her ledger book, where she kept diligent track of her earnings—deposited in an interest earning account in Oliver Platt's bank—earmarked to open a boardinghouse for miners in Jerome.
    Feeling momentarily lighthearted, he bent his head and kissed her pouting rouged lips.
    "I'd better get her into bed," Wolfe said when Noel moaned softly, garnering his attention.
    "Doesn't look like she's going to be much good there," Lucy observed. "You get tired of playing nursemaid, Wolfe, sweetie, you know where to find me." She ran her bloodred fingertips seductively down the side of his cheek. Then, with a rich laugh, she sauntered down the hallway toward the stairs, obviously intending to join the festivities in the saloon.
    Hefting the unconscious woman a bit higher on his shoulder, Wolfe continued down the hall in the opposite direction.
    Noel's head was pounding and every bone and muscle in her body ached. Seeking relief from the pain, she shifted, feeling the cool rustle of satin sheets beneath her. A soft moan escaped her lips.
    "She's coming to," she heard a woman say through the mist draping her mind. The sweet scent of lilacs and roses drifted closer, mingling with the pleasant aroma of juniper wood emanating from a nearby fireplace. Along with the unmistakable scent of wet dog.
    "It's about time." Wolfe stroked a cool damp cloth across Noel's throbbing forehead. As she breathed in the soothing scent of lavender water, he continued to bathe her face, her neck, her shoulder blades. When he hit a tender spot, she flinched and moaned again.
    "Shh." He pressed a fingertip against her lip, then brushed her hair back from her forehead with an infinitely tender touch that belied the rough calluses on his fingertips. "It will be all right." The cloth continued its soothing journey down her right arm, and then her left. "You will be all right."
    Although it took an effort, she opened her eyes and looked directly into his. He was as dark, as handsome, as mesmerizing as he'd appeared in his photographs. He also looked too