“You’re not going to save her,” Crusher answered. He was on Bad’s left. He could hear that now.
“Why’s that?” Bad asked, wanting the other man to keep talking.
“It’s my turn to win. And when I do, I’m going to keep your woman for myself. She’s a pretty one, she is, and I think I’d like to touch something that pretty. But don’t worry, I’ll think of you when I do.”
Blood rushed in his ears as an anger Bad had never experienced before roared in his veins. Dimly, he was aware that this sort of emotion was dangerous. It would cause him to make mistakes. But Grace was far too fine a woman for Bad himself to touch, let alone for Crusher to put his meaty hands on.
At that exact moment, Crusher stepped out from behind a tree. Bad pointed his pistol but before he could fire a shot rang out behind him, the acrid smell of sulfur filling the air.
Crusher dropped to the ground and a moment later, a dull thud sounded from the carriage. “Oh Cristina,” Grace cried.
Bad looked back. What the bloody hell had just happened?
Chapter Three
Grace stared at the woman who’d crumpled into a ball on the floor. She covered her mouth to keep from crying out. Cristina Abernath was dead. She’d used her final breaths to shoot Crusher.
“Grace?” Bad growled. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she squeaked. “Can I please come out?”
By way of answer, he leaned into the carriage, reaching for her. She didn’t hesitate but launched herself against him, burying her face into the crook of his neck. He smelled of sandalwood, leather and horse, his strong arms wrapping tightly about her. Briefly, it occurred to her that she never wanted to be anywhere else but right here pressed against his chest.
Words she hadn’t even planned began tumbling from her lips. “I’m so sorry I was such a fool. I’m sorry I wanted to go shopping. Sorry I let silly ribbons endanger us all.”
He chuckled, the sound moving his chest up and down, her own body moving with his and the sound vibrated through her. “I don’t know that I ever expected to hear you say sorry.”
She tipped back then, to look in his eyes. “Most men might say something like, Grace you couldn’t have predicted this. Or, It’s all right. I’m here for you. But not you.”
“There’s the Grace I know,” he said with a small smile.
She gave her foot a small stomp but didn’t move away from Bad. Angry as he made her, the world was far too frightening to be anywhere other than wrapped in his arms. “You’re making it sound as though I a
m to blame.”
He reached up and brushed a stray hair from her cheek. The touch was achingly gentle. “You’re not at fault.” His thumb stroked down her cheek to the corner of her mouth. “I’m sorry too. Sorry I lost my temper in the carriage and sorry that I stormed out.”
“Oh.” She caught her breath. “I didn’t expect to hear you say sorry either.”
He gave her a small smile that lit his entire face and crinkled his eyes. “Look at us. Apologizing.”
“What happens next?” she asked, not wanting to look anywhere other than his face. Up close like this, she could see that his skin wasn’t rough, per se, but covered in a number of small scars.
“We find the next town and send men back for the carriage and the bodies.”
Grace shivered. In his arms, she’d momentarily forgotten the reality of the day. “Cristina,” she whispered. “That poor woman.”
“You know that she just stole you from your family?”
Grace lay her head on his chest. “She also shot Crusher before he could shoot you.”
“That’s what happened?” He gathered her closer, setting his cheek on top of her head. “I’d wondered.”
Sighing, she buried her nose in the strong muscles of his chest. “To be fair, I don’t think she appreciated his comments about me, but still…I’m glad she did it so that you weren’t shot again.”
He kissed the top of her head. “Me too.”
“Are you very hurt?” she asked, her words catching in her throat. Bad made her crazy with irritation but she found the idea of him dying gut-wrenching.