his hips then heard the pistols clang against the nightstand. The legendary bounty hunter slept naked, she realized. Had there been more moonlight spraying through the floor-length windows she would have seen that clearly for herself.
Drawing herself up to full stature, and careful not to allow her gaze to dip below his shadowed face, she padded closer to the bed. “I came to—”
“Is Adam all right?” he cut in worriedly.
“Yes, thank you for asking. He is still in pain and chattering like a magpie in his drug-induced dreams. I changed the dressing on the wound and the bleeding is under control.”
“Good. Now turn your back so I can slip on my breeches.”
“And not have you at the same sort of disadvantage that I faced when you dropped that ‘there’s just one catch’ in my lap?” Julia scoffed. “You deserve to sit there feeling awkward. Turnabout is fair play.”
“Your brother is right,” she heard him mutter. “You are a handful.”
“Thank you. I pride myself in being a man’s equal, not the extension of his opinions and his will.”
“Why am I not surprised to hear that?”
Julia clutched her robe together, then crossed her arms under her breasts. “I think I have figured out why you want the pretense of a marriage during this assignment.”
Her first thought had been that he wanted to take full advantage of the situation, but she’d reminded herself that she was trying to measure him against the yardstick of ordinary men. “You aren’t like the fortune hunters I’ve encountered.”
“Are you asking or telling?” he said wryly.
“I’m telling you what I’ve learned about you already.”
“Just don’t try to find qualities in me that aren’t there,” he warned. “I am what I am. Nothing more or less. Nothing admirable. Nothing special.”
But he was certainly all man, she mused as her betraying perusal slid down from his bare chest to his lap. She couldn’t decide if she was relieved or disappointed that darkness concealed his masculine body.
“Get to the point, Julia,” he said impatiently. “It’s the middle of the night and I’m only dressed for the kind of social call that you and I are not going to participate in.”
She winced at his brisk tone and her gaze returned to his face—from which it never should have strayed in the first place. She inhaled a quick breath and said, “The pretend marriage is your attempt to protect my reputation while we’re working closely together. Am I right?”
“Partially,” he murmured. He would get to the more-than-a-mite-selfish reasons later.
“If Sol Griffin thinks we’re married, he might try to go through you to get to me. You would become one of the obstacles he would have to remove to get his hands on Preston Ranch. And three murder attempts would arouse the sheriff’s suspicions and launch an official investigation.”
“Bingo. Smart lady,” he praised.
“Thank you. However, a betrothal would accelerate an attempt on my life,” she remarked.
Damn, she was right, he realized. He had given her credit for her sharp intellect, but he still had underestimated her.
“Therefore,” she went on to say, “I intend to spread the word of our marriage as soon as I inform Adam of our plan. If anyone asks I will insist that after several chance meetings between us, I realized you suited me perfectly.”
Which he did, Julia mused. This man had agreed to put his life on the line to protect Adam. He didn’t harbor ulterior motives like her other beaux. She trusted him. She liked him. She was attracted to him, even when she knew nothing permanent would come of the arrangement. She certainly didn’t need a husband to complete her, and he didn’t need a wife, with his tumbleweed lifestyle.
“And so,” she added belatedly, “I will agree to your little catch, because it is an ingenious solution.”
Lone Wolf smiled to himself. He would like to be on hand when Sol Griffin received the news of this supposed marriage to Julia Preston. That would go a long way in compensating for the hurt and rejection he had suffered at Sol’s hands.
A fleeting shadow on the gallery put Lone Wolf’s senses on full alert. He bounded to his feet, reacting instinctively to the potential threat that descended on Adam. Behind him he heard Julia’s sharp intake of breath—and he remembered that he was still naked.
“Well, hell.” Muttering, he snatched up the sheet and tucked it around his waist. He scooped up his pistols on the way to the balcony. “Stay here,” he gritted out when he heard Julia scurrying along behind him.
“But—” she protested.
“Stay in here,” he snapped in a tone that invited no argument.
To his relief, Julia screeched to a halt.
Lone Wolf slipped silently out the door.
Chapter Four
W hile the cloaked figure breezed toward Adam’s room, Lone Wolf moved into position to pounce. The would-be assailant never knew what hit him. Lone Wolf had a stranglehold on the intruder’s throat and a pistol pressed threateningly against his temple before he could react.
To Lone Wolf’s frustration, however, Julia flagrantly disobeyed his order by darting across the gallery to position herself in front of his captive. He made a mental note to sit this foolhardy female down later and read her every line and paragraph of the riot act. He had specifically told her to never again put herself between him and a potential threat.
And damn it, she had done it twice in the same night!
“Jules, it’s me!” came the chirping voice.
Lone Wolf frowned when Julia gestured for him to release his captive.
“It’s Maggie,” Julia informed him.
“Maggie?” Lone Wolf stepped back a pace then expelled an exasperated snort. “I would sincerely appreciate it if the women around here would wear dresses so I can tell who’s who.”
When Maggie Griffin pivoted to face him, he went very still. Her wide-eyed focus trailed down his bare chest to survey the white sheet that glowed in the moonlight. Then she glanced bewilderedly back and forth between him and Julia. When her attention shifted to the door that led into Julia’s bedroom, he knew exactly what she was thinking. Hell, he could practically hear her thinking it.
“Maggie Griffin, meet my husband, Vince Lone Wolf,” Julia introduced without missing a beat.
“Your what?” Maggie croaked as she staggered back a pace. “The Lone Wolf who—” She clamped her mouth shut, then blinked owlishly at him…and at his state of undress. “The legendary bounty hunter? That Lone Wolf?”
He nodded, clamped both pistols between his side and left elbow, and then reached out to shake her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
