Wildstar

Jess shuddered, violently this time, as she remembered precisely what depraved "services" Purcell had meant for her. "He gave me to that woman," she exclaimed with fresh outrage.

"Shhhhh, angel," Devlin said quietly, stroking her bare arm. "It's over."

His palm was warm and soothing against her skin— which made Jess suddenly realize that she had very little clothing on. Her cheeks flooded with hot color. How hu­miliating to be found in such a scandalous condition by Devlin, half naked in a den of iniquity, tied to a bed whose purpose was certainly not sleeping. She shouldn't allow him to hold her like this, either, but she didn't want to move. His warmth, his strength, his clean masculine smell were chasing away the horrors of the past hours. She didn't want him to let her go.

Devlin wasn't about to let go, though. He liked having Jess cling to him, to need him the way she had during the mine cave. It made up for some of the savage hurt that she'd inflicted so thoroughly on him during the past two weeks, mitigating his ravaged pride and his outraged sense of injustice.

As if she'd had a similar remembrance about the mine disaster, Jess suddenly drew back, her fingers clutching at his waistcoat. "The dynamite! Devlin, it was Purcell. He was the one who set the charge that nearly killed us."

"He told you that?"

"He wouldn't admit it outright, but he didn't deny it, ei­ther. And he said that was why Burke fired him. Purcell told me all about stealing ore from the Wildstar. They cut into our lode, which was why Burke wanted our mine."

"We already figured as much."

"But Purcell was behind the dynamite. He tried to mur­der us! He said it was his revenge for all the grief we caused him. And then he did this." She held up her wrists that were still bound. "Devlin, we have to stop him!"

His hands automatically closed around hers as he stud­ied her flushed, beautiful face, with its wisps of tawny hair falling from their pins. Her expression was set and earnest—and altogether terrifying. Devlin knew that deter­mined look, and he didn't like it in the least. When Jessica got her mind set on something, no one could reason with her.

"I have to stop him," he corrected. "You won't have anything to do with it."

"I'm going after him—"

"No, you are not, Jess."

"Yes, I am! I'm the one he did this to! And I don't in­tend to let him get away with it."

"He won't get away with it, I'll see to that. But you're going home."

"I will not!"

Devlin's jaw tightened. With pointed emphasis, he glanced down at her bonds. "I haven't untied you yet. And I won't unless I have your promise to let me handle Purcell alone."

She stared at him incredulously.

"I mean it, Jess. I'll leave you here where you can stay out of trouble."

"You wouldn't!"

No, he wouldn't. He couldn't leave her to the doubtful mercy of Madam Wong and her lusty customers. But he wasn't about to weaken his hand by admitting it. "You're not setting foot out of this room without giving me your word," Devlin said firmly.

Her expression turned mutinous. "I'm not giving you anything."

"Jessica, be reasonable. You can trust me to take care of Purcell."

She stiffened at his mention of the word trust, suddenly remembering all the grievances she had against Devlin. "How dare you talk to me about trust after the way you lied to me and used me? I'd sooner trust a . . . a flea-manged polecat!"

She had chosen the wrong response. All the savage an­ger that Devlin had harbored against her for the past two weeks, all the resentment and indignation and wounded pride, came flooding back in a solid rush. Without stop­ping to reconsider, he reached for the rope behind her, the one still attached to the upper post, and pressed Jessica back down on the pallet.

She gasped as she realized his intent. "What are you doing!" She tried to sit up again, but Devlin had threaded the rope around her wrist bonds and was securing them tightly. He was actually tying her up! Jess jerked at the rope with impotent rage. "You can't do this to me, you . . . you devil!"

"I'm doing it." His tone was grim. "If you want me to stop, you'll give me your word to stay out of this."

Refusing to yield to his coercion, she tried a different tack. "Devlin, Purcell will get away if we don't go after him right now! He already has more than an hour's head start."

"He won't get away. I know what he looks like now."

"But you don't understand! He said Zeke McRoy was his partner. He said he had enough money stashed away in the mountains to last a lifetime. You told me once that Zeke took part in those train holdups. What if Purcell was working with him? What if that's how he got all that money, by robbing trains with Zeke's gang?"