Page 23 of Never Wed an Outlaw

“Yeah,” he said, a numb look rocking his face while helet the tobacco hit his bloodstream. “Worst fuckin' part about all this is, I lied to my own damned club. Nobody except Joker knows what really happened to Piece, and that's the way it's gotta stay 'til I can make revenge happen on my terms. If I'd told those boys years ago, they would've gone off like loose cannons, would've gotten themselvesallkilled. The Deads are a fuck of a lot bigger than us, and when we hit 'em, it has to be like lightning. We're only getting one chance at this. It's my job to hold down the ship just a little while longer, 'til we do.”

“Wow.” My heart dropped into my lower belly.

If there was next to no chance before of dropping my hostage situation in his lap, then there was absolute zero now.

I couldn't stand adding one more worry to his plate. And I wouldn't put my brother through it either, who'd jump at the chance to help Dust save me, if it ever slipped out what sort of danger I'd gotten myself into.

“Enough talk, beautiful. Firefly said you've got yourself a hell of a sound system here. Let's play some rock and roll. Forget all our bullshit for a few hours.”

Exactly what we needed. He was good at cheering people up, even his own big, fearsome self. I reached into my pocket for my phone, opened the app, and flicked on the radio.

Guitar chords and drums beat their way through half the house, piping through the high definition speakers I'd had put in everywhere.

“Gotta love Zeppelin, yeah?”

“They're all right, but I'm more of a country girl,” I said haughtily, flicking my hair across my shoulder. “This'll do for now. Whatever makes you happy, Dusty. You're my guest.”

Snorting, he stood up, pouring more whiskey into his glass and mine. He passed mine, reaching behind my back with one arm, and pulling me close.

Before I realized what was happening, we were swaying in the middle of my kitchen. Whatever I imagined might go down today when I called him up, I never thought it would lead to medancingwith the club's biggest badass.

“Okay, Miss Country. Now that I'd told you the big secret, what's yours? Why am I really here?” Dust's whisper burned hot in my ear. “Can't just be because you're lonely, unless you really want this cock.”

I laughed, pushed roughly against his chest, until he steadied me.

“My client,” I said, trying to whimper when his hands ran down my back. “He's being a real dick lately, to be honest. Expecting me to work miracles without the time or resources to do it. I'm good, Dusty, but I'm not a genius.”

“No? Sounds like bullshit to me,” he growled, turning us around in a slow, controlled loop. “The fact that we're standing here in this place, soaking our asses on good Johnnie, dancing to the best damned beats I've heard outside the clubhouse tells me something different. Give yourself your dues, darlin'. You've done well, and you should enjoy it.”

Yeah, enjoy it,I thought. If only it were that simple.

If only I could loosen up, tell him what kind of trouble I was really in, without making anyone else suffer for my stupid debts. I brought my glass to my lips and drained the contents, wishing the fire would hurry up, turn everything in my head to sweet numbness.

“I'll try,” I said, another lie. “You know, there's something missing in my life. Everybody comes over here with their jaws hanging, but they don't see what's behind the scenes, what I'd really like to own someday. I guess that bothers me.”

“Yeah?” he asked, bringing his hand up my side, until it cupped my cheek in his rough palm. “Woman like you is awful close to having the whole world. What's she missing?”

Sanity. Safety.Both words I would've said if I could've been open and honest.

But that wasn't an option here, not if I wanted to keep thisgrin and bear itcharade to myself.

“A good man. A family,” I said, thinking, dropping more truth I should've kept bottled up. “This place is huge, Dusty, and it's lonely. I want a man I can count on someday, with dinner around the table at six o'clock sharp, and the two-point-five kids I'm entitled to.”

“Aw, hell,” he said, smiling and shaking his head. “Thought you were after something that'd be hard as fuck to reach. What's the deal, darlin'? It's like you haven't noticed you're damned near perfect. With your brains, your looks, your success, and that sharp little mouth, you're gonna get your pick between billionaires and princes one fine day. No fuckin' ifs, ands, or buts about it.”

He leaned into me, breathing in my scent. A movement like another shot of whiskey sent straight to my stomach, except this tingled inallthe wrong places.

God, I wanted him. Just as badly as I yearned to throw down my worries, my fears, and the mountain of work I had waiting to save my life.

“What if rich guys and royalty aren't my type?” I whispered, rubbing uncontrollably against his chest.

“You mean you've got yourself a type?”

Obviously. And right now, the type of man who turned my blood to fire was up close and personal. So close it wouldn't take much effort to surrender totally.

No more talk. Words wouldn't tell him anything I hadn't already said.

I leaned in, grabbing at his cut for support, inhaling his natural cologne of leather, oil, and pure testosterone. We made the same move simultaneously, too much pent up hunger pouring out in waves.

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