"But I've made my choice."

"Your choice isn't being cooperative, dear, or did that escape your notice?" Vanessa said dryly, only to regret her words when Jocelyn flinched. "Now, none of that. There's probably a very good reason why these American Indians are called savages, you know. It's doubtful you would have liked his form of lovemak-ing, so be glad it hasn't worked out."

"He's not a savage, Vana."

"Reserve that opinion until after you face him. And best we put it behind us, so come along."

As they continued forward, the four guards Vanessa had motioned back moved up behind them again, and the two who had been stationed in the lobby fell into step beside them. The remaining six were already outside. They would have thoroughly checked out the area, even the buildings across the street.

If there was even one person of a suspicious nature anywhere around who couldn't be warned away, Jocelyn would not be allowed to leave the ho-tel. Hours could be wasted, and had frequently been wasted, on just such precautions. If Longnose ever hired a decent marksman, those precautions would be pointless, but fortunately, none of his hirelings had ever been competent with firearms, at least not from a distance.

Sir Parker was there to open the door for them with a ready smile. He adored Jocelyn, but only from afar. She was like an ideal to him, safe to worship, but he would never presume to make his feelings known to her. As if everyone didn't know, including Jocelyn. She was the stuff of dreams, whereas earthy creatures like Babette were reality, and Parker and half the guard frequently took advantage of the French maid's brand of reality. But it was amusing to watch Parker and Jocelyn both take such pains not to acknowledge his feelings for her.

It really was too bad he felt that Jocelyn was beyond his reach, Vanessa thought, for his age was per-fect at thirty, he owned considerable property in Kent, and he was quite the most handsome of the guards with his black hair and dark green eyes. The trouble was, he would never settle for just being her lover, even if she would consider him as a candidate. He wasn't ready to settle down — the reason he so enjoyed the job the duke had offered him — but if he thought Jocelyn would have him, he would offer for her in a minute.


No, Jocelyn would never consider any of her own men for her first experiments with amour, for that would defeat her purpose of protecting the duke's memory. But Vanessa's misgivings about her Mr.

Thunder had grown considerably today, and she was now firmly of the opinion that he was not right for her either.

A virgin needed gentleness and sensitivity for her first sexual experience, and it was highly doubtful that Mr. Thunder possessed either of those qualities. They had assumed, given his appearance and speech, which was easier to understand than that of most of these Westerners, that despite his ancestry, he had been raised in what passed for civilization here in the West. It had been a surprise to hear his brother state other-wise. If a man was raised by savages, didn't that make him a savage? Colt Thunder's civilized veneer was very likely only skin-deep, which was why it was a blessing he didn't return Jocelyn's interest.

Vanessa was forced to change her opinion yet again when they stepped out onto the walkway fronting the hotel and saw the man, still mounted on his horse. Skin-deep? Not even that. There was nothing civi-lized about the look he directed at Jocelyn. It said more clearly than words that she would have been in serious trouble if they were alone just then. Did she realize that, or was she still blinded by the dark hand-someness of the man? And he was that. Vanessa had not gotten a good look at him before, but it was easier to understand now why he had affected Jocelyn so strongly.

Jocelyn did not mistake the meaning behind the look Colt gave her, but then she had been expecting something like it. The man was angry with her and wanted her to know it. Still, he wasn't shouting at her, not yet anyway, when she had expected that too. Of course, she wasn't alone with him this time. She had her guard surrounding her. But somehow she didn't think that would stop him if he wanted to shout at her.

The silence stretched on as he continued to stare at her, shredding her nerves. She ought to apologize.

That was what he was probably waiting for. But the words wouldn't come, and then his did.

"Fifty thousand dollars, Duchess. Take it or leave it."

It was fortunate that Jocelyn couldn't see the expressions of the men behind her just then, or she would have thought there was going to be bloodshed. She did hear Vanessa's gasp and was aware that the countess put a hand on Parker's arm to restrain him from reacting to the insult Jocelyn had been dealt.

And she did realize she had been insulted, not only by the words, which implied nothing short of a for-tune could get him to work for her and that he didn't care one way or the other, but also by the tone in which those words had been delivered.

Oh, he was clever, was Colt Thunder. He fully expected her to be outraged at such a fee. He was counting on it. He was also positive she would refuse; had named such a high figure so she would be forced to refuse; otherwise he wouldn't have made the offer. She had to bite back her smile. She could hire a hun-dred guides for that price and they both knew it, but what he didn't know was that that wasn't what she wanted him for. He would likely be the most expen-sive lover anyone had ever bought, but what else did she have to spend her fortune on?

"Done, Mr. Thunder," Jocelyn said with a good deal of pleasure. "You now work for me." She had to turn away quickly before she laughed aloud at the expression of utter disbelief that appeared on his handsome face.

Chapter Twelve

He has done this for spite, you know," Vanessa complained angrily as she wiped the dust from her face with a damp cloth. "We passed that town no more than three or four miles back, and it was almost evening then. There was no conceivable reason for us to go on and end up camping out for the night, except that he means to get even with you for calling his bluff today. Mark my words, Jocelyn, that man intends to make you regret crossing him."

"I didn't cross him. I agreed to his terms."

"Don't be obtuse, dear. Those ridiculous terms weren't meant to be agreed to and you know it. You should have seen his face—"

"I did." Jocelyn grinned with such delight that Vanessa couldn't help sharing in her amusement. "I don't think Edward's money has ever given me quite so much pleasure before. He asked for the moon, and I was able to give it to him. Good Lord, that was satisfying."

"I hope you still think so when we end up spending the next several weeks in this tent."

"Oh, stop fussing, Vana. I wouldn't exactly call this a tent." The thing was huge, with ample head-room, a soft Persian carpet covering the ground, silken pillows to recline on, thick furs to sleep on.

"We have all the conveniences we could possibly need."

"Except a bath," the countess retorted, revealing the source of her annoyance.

"You can have a bath and you know it."

"After Sidney and Pearson loaded the wagons not so many hours ago, I wouldn't dream of asking them to lug water up from that river we've camped near. I like to think I have more consideration than that."

"The footmen aren't the only ones who can fetch water, Vana. You're just being difficult, and I'd like to know why."

"I'm not the one being difficult. There's simply no reason for us to rough it with a town only a few miles away. Your monstrously expensive guide is the one who's proving difficult."

"And if he has a legitimate reason for avoiding that town?"

"I'd dearly love to hear it. Why don't you go ask him? Well, what are you waiting for?"

"He's not here," Jocelyn had to admit. "His brother said he's scouting the area."

"Humph! More likely he's gone back to Benson for a soft bed and you'll see him in the morning, well rested and ready to heap more hardship on us. That would be just the sort of revenge that would appeal to someone like him."

"Now, there you're wrong, Vana. If he wants re-venge, it wouldn't be anywhere near so subtle, and it would be against me, not everyone."


"You saw that in his eyes, too, did you?" Vanessa asked in a much softer tone and came to kneel down among the pillows where Jocelyn was sitting. At Jocelyn’s unhappy nod, she placed a gentle hand on her cheek. "Have you finally realized he isn't like any man you've ever known before? He's hard and dan-gerous and—"

"I still want him," Jocelyn interrupted in a soft whisper. "Even when he was frying me with his eyes, I still felt all funny inside, just as I did the first time I looked at him."

Vanessa sighed. "He won't be gentle with you, dearest; you know that, don't you? And if you tempt him when he's still angry at you, he may hurt you— deliberately."

"You don't know that," Jocelyn protested, even as her eyes filled with uncertainty. "He's not a cruel man.

I would have sensed it if he was — wouldn't I?"

"Perhaps," Vanessa allowed. "But I still don't think he has it in him to be gentle. He's a product of a life and culture that we can't even begin to conceive of. Will you at least keep that in mind?"

Jocelyn nodded, then fell back against the pillows with her own sigh. "I don't know what you're worried about. He isn't likely to forgive me for being rich enough to afford him."

Vanessa had to laugh. "Which just proves how different he is. What other man would be furious at find-ing himself the recipient of such a windfall? And we're not even taking him out of his way. For his convenience, we're going where he's going. By the way, where the devil is this Wyoming?"