Caroline realized that her palms had flattened themselves against the hard chest of the man holding her. His strong hands had moved to grip her waist as he held her steady. As strange as it seemed, she felt safe and reassured in his arms. He wouldn’t let any harm come to her. She was aware that she should move away, yet her body refused to give him up. It craved the closeness he offered. She’d never quite had such a visceral reaction to a man before. And she’d never been held so closely against one. He was hard everywhere, as though his muscles were carved from granite. His fingers flexed into her, and instinctively hers did the same, giving the muscles beneath her fingers a gentle squeeze.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low and a little husky. The r sound rolled off his tongue.
Something powerful moved between them, so unexpected that she couldn’t even name it. It was almost like familiarity and excitement rolled into one, but that couldn’t be. She’d never met him.
“It’s not your fault. I stepped out at the wrong time.” She offered a smile, and he did, too. It was a quick flash of white in the dim light of the hallway, but it was beautiful. His mouth curved up in a flawless crescent that centered her gaze on his perfectly formed lips, the bottom one just a bit fuller than the top one.
She’d just had a brush with death and here she was standing with a stranger and flirting. It must be the shock. Her father had taught her that people sometimes exhibited strange behavior after experiencing a trauma. That was the only explanation for her conduct.
A shadow loomed over them, drawing her attention to the big man. He didn’t seem pleased with the moment they were sharing and raised a brow at her with some sort of implied censure. Then he handed her a pair of folded spectacles, their gold rims glinting in the lamplight, and the action was enough to jolt her back to reality. She hadn’t even realized they’d fallen off in the commotion. She accepted them and stepped back. The man called Reyes dropped his hands from her waist. He didn’t appear as chastened as she felt, though. What was she thinking, standing here with a possible criminal and smiling? She’d come within an inch of getting killed.
He hadn’t looked away from her, either. Even as he spoke, he kept his gaze on her. “Go arrange for our luggage. We’ll be the first off at the station.”
The big man said something in agreement—she could hardly pay attention to him—before he moved between them and made his way through the door to the next train car. Then they were alone and the air thickened with awareness. It sizzled down her spine and feathered out along her nerve endings until her entire body was alive with it.
She’d been kissed before, once or twice at the annual fund-raiser galas her family participated in, but they’d been flirty and hasty, nothing bordering even remotely on the intensity gaining momentum between her and this stranger. Except he hadn’t kissed her. Not in the way she wanted. Dear God, she wanted this stranger to kiss her. What the devil was wrong with her?
Still keeping a firm hold on her gaze, he caught her fingers in his and raised them. His hands were broad and slightly calloused and his skin was dark against her pale fingers. His lips brushed the back of her hand in a featherlight caress, not even leaving a hint of moisture behind. “Safe travels, mi corazόn.”
He dropped her hand and followed his friend. She opened her mouth to call to him, but then stopped when she realized there was nothing to say. Would she ask him to call on her in Boston? Give him—a stranger who’d been chasing an obvious criminal—her name?
There was nothing to do but watch him go. When he’d disappeared through the door, she walked to the door of the compartment she shared with her aunt and paused. She took some breaths and waited for her fingers to stop shaking before she went inside, forgetting all about the scones and her father in the dining car.
Castillo tensed when the study door opened. He was expecting his brother Hunter to join him, but he was always on alert when at the Jameson Ranch. He didn’t belong here, and no amount of familiarity with the place would change that. His blood might be that of a Jameson, but his heart and soul would always be that of a Reyes, his mother’s family, the people who’d raised him when his father had abandoned them. He belonged in Texas at the Reyes hacienda, not here.
“I didn’t mean to pull you from supper.” Castillo looked over at Hunter and threw back the last of his whiskey. Setting his tumbler on the mantel, he turned from the low-burning fire and crossed the room to pull him into a hug. Even after having known his half brother for the better part of five years, Castillo sometimes couldn’t believe how similar they were. Where Castillo was dark, Hunter was light, but their frames, strong jaws and green eyes had all been inherited from their father.
“We just sat down,” Hunter said, as if he wasn’t bothered. “Why don’t you join us? You must be starving.”
Hunter’s wedding was only a week away and guests had already begun to arrive. Castillo had only just arrived at sunset, tired and irritable from tracking Bennett Derringer in what had been a fruitless effort. It was as if the man had jumped from the train and vanished. Castillo and Zane had found the place they’d thought he landed, and a few footprints leading east, but Bennett had walked on the tracks to hide his path and there’d been no sightings of him in any of the towns farther along the line. The thought of socializing with strangers and making pleasant conversation wasn’t appealing to Castillo. Instead, he’d had a bath and come straight to the study.
“I’m not fit for company,” he muttered and fell into one of the overstuffed chairs before the fireplace.
Hunter poured himself a whiskey and refilled his brother’s tumbler, handing it to him before taking a seat in the other chair. “What happened? Your telegram was vague.” He looked around the room. “Where’s Zane?”
The telegram had only stated that he and Zane had been detained with a possible lead. It would’ve been foolish to say more in a communication that was impossible to keep secret.
“Zane stayed in town at Glory’s.” Castillo had been tempted to stay at the brothel and avoid the houseful of people a little longer, but he couldn’t put off this conversation with his brother. Not with the possibility of Derringer nearby posing a threat. “We saw Buck Derringer’s son on the train. Or, rather, he saw us. He recognized us and ran.”
“Ran? On a train?” Hunter smiled, sitting forward at the prospect of an exciting story.
Castillo shrugged and took a sip of the twelve-year-old aged whiskey he liked. It sat warm on his tongue before going down to heat his belly and ease his tired muscles. “He tried. Ended up jumping off when we were just outside Moreland. We got off at the station and found some tracks, but we never found him. I know he must’ve been hurt from the fall, but he just disappeared. Like his father.”
Hunter frowned into his own tumbler. “You don’t think it was coincidence that he was on the train?”
“It was an accident that we saw him, but he didn’t just happen to be on that train. What are the odds that when Derringer ran away with my grandfather’s money he’d settle here?”
“Zero. We would’ve heard about him moving here.” The Jamesons knew everyone in the area, especially if they were throwing around money.
Castillo nodded. “He’d have been looking to get far away from Texas, but all the signs pointed to California.”
“So, he’s
