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"Your key, Mr. Stewart," the thin gentleman behind the counter said. "Towels and water have been sent up."
"Thank you," Zac said, and turned to Prudence.
"Where's my key?" she asked a bit apprehensively.
Even if he had wanted to, which he didn't, he couldn't stop the sinful grin from surfacing. "Do you really think I would let you have a room all to yourself?"
Prudence's wild-eyed look conveyed a temper gone a degree too high. "I will not share a room with you."
His grin darkened his expression, as his lips curled sinfully and his eyes became molten with sensuality. "You don't have a choice."
A dank shiver ran through her, but she retained her composure. "It isn't proper and I will not allow it. If father knew what you —"
"Your father told me to do whatever was necessary to return you to him."
"Not ruin my reputation."
"And what nasty things do you expect me to do to you in that room, Prudence, that will ruin your immaculate reputation?" he asked, stepping closer to her.
"I — I —"
"I could do things that would drive you wild. You would have stories to tell at the Boston Ladies Social Club that would make them green with envy and moist between their legs."
Prudence gasped at his audacity and took a step away from him.
His hand reached out and firmly snatched her wrist. "Don't tell me those proper ladies didn't entertain the idea of what it would be like to crawl into bed with a gunslinger?"
"Mr. —"
"Careful, Prudence, I hold no qualms about kissing you right here in front of everyone, especially since they think you're my bride."
"What?" she said, trying but unable to pull free. His grip was iron strong.
"Bride. That would easily explain your reluctance to go upstairs with me."
"You are an unspeakable beast."
"That I am, Pru. That I am," he said with a laugh and yanked her toward him, hoisted her up without a grunt or a groan, and flung her over his shoulder.
"Put me down," Prudence shouted, turning scarlet when she raised her head behind him and saw everyone watching her with a smile.
"Relax, dear. It will be over soon," an older woman offered with an understanding nod.
Zac patted her backside, turning her face an even deeper red. I’ll be gentle," he promised, loud enough for the room to hear before taking the carpeted stairs two at a time.
CHAPTER 5
"You're a despicable beast!" Prudence yelled after being dumped carelessly on the bed.
"Now, honey, is that any way to start a marriage?" Zac asked, each word dripping with false sweetness as he walked to the door, slamming it shut and turning the lock.
"I'd never marry you!" she shouted, gathering her duster and hat in hand from where they had fallen beside her on the bed.
"Likewise!" Zac shouted back.
Prudence scrambled off the bed and ran toward the door, not bothering to consider that Zac was blocking it. His determined stance and rough tone brought her to a halt only a few feet in front of him.
"Touch it and I'll tie you to the bed! Naked!"
Prudence was about to say "You wouldn't" but thought better of it. He would. Instead, she chose silence as her weapon, walking over to the wooden chair opposite the four-drawer bureau and sitting, her duster over one arm and her hat in her hand. Her eyes settled on the lone brass bed that took up a good portion of the small room. A sizable lump formed in her throat.
"I can see you intend to remain stubborn," he said, noticing her stiff posture. "Well, suit yourself. I intend to wash up."
Zac didn't wait for a response, didn't expect one. He unbuckled his gun belt and carefully hooked it over the brass head post, placing his hat atop it. His fingers worked on the buttons of his black shirt, opening it wide and pulling it free from the snug confines of his trousers. He slipped it off, tossing it on the bed.
"Sure you don't want to join me?" he teased, facing her, arms spread wide, and causing her to blush at the sight of his naked torso.
Prudence was too shocked —much too shocked —to say or do anything in objection to Zac Stewart's rude behavior.
"Offended your proper sensibilities again, have I? Well, pardon my common sense and my partial nakedness while I wash," he said. He walked over to the large white porcelain pitcher on the bureau and poured water into the matching bowl. He then proceeded to wash the traveling dust from himself, trying very hard to ignore the two bulging eyes glaring at his naked back.
Undressing in front of her! How dare him! The man had no morals, no convictions, and no decency. He was an animal, probably a state brought on by his questionable lifestyle. Her eyes stayed fixed, though, upon his back, broad and weighty with thick muscles. She wondered how he retained his rich muscle definition. The thought of hard manual labor crossed her mind, but then that type of work wasn't really part of a gunslinger's life. His back was smooth and unmarred, until it reached the top of his trousers.
