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“Now the robe.”
She didn’t move.
He lifted the gun so that it was aimed at her chest.
“You’re crazy,” she gasped. “You’re—”
The hammer clicked. “Take it off.”
Her hands flew to the front of the robe. She opened it and slipped her arms out. The fabric made a soft, hissing sound as it dropped to the floor.
He lifted the barrel ever so slightly. “Let your hair down.”
“Sweet Jesus…” Her hands fumbled with the pins, and as her hair came down, drops of water splattered on her bare shoulders.
“That’s nice. Real pretty. Now the gown.”
“Don’t…” she pleaded.
“Pull down the straps slow. One at a time.”
She slipped down the first strap and then stopped.
“Go on.” He made a sharp gesture with the gun. “Do what I tell you.”
“No.”
He sat up straighter. “What did you say?”
“You heard me.”
“Don’t push me, Teacher Lady.”
Fleur clamped her arms over her chest.
Shit, Jake thought. Now what was he supposed to do?
“Just hold me for a minute, okay?” she said.
He set the pearl-handled Colt on the table next to the bed and walked over to where she was standing. Her skin was like ice. He opened his parka and put it around her, then cuddled her against his flannel shirt. “You’re no fun.”
She gave a choked sob.
“Hey, are you crying?” She nodded against his jaw. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I guess my timing wasn’t too good.”
She shook her head, too dazed to figure out how he knew about Butch Cassidy and her fantasy.
“It seemed like a good idea,” he said, “especially when I couldn’t decide what to say when I saw you.”
She spoke against his flannel shirt. “Bird Dog can’t resolve this for us. We have to settle it ourselves.”
He tilted up her chin. “You’ve got to learn to separate fantasy from reality. Bird Dog’s a movie character. I like playing him—he gives me a chance to get rid of my aggressions—but he’s not me. I’m the one who’s afraid of horses, remember?”
She stared up at him.
“Come on, you?
??re freezing.” He led her over to the bed and pulled back the covers. In a daze, she settled between the cold sheets. He quickly divested himself of his parka and boots. Still wearing his shirt and jeans, he slid in next to her. “The pilot must be out on your furnace,” he said. “It’s colder than hell in here.”
