Scandal at the Cahill Saloon - By Carol Arens Page 0,37

need to frown like that.”

“I wouldn’t if I believed you.” His expression only deepened. “Anything besides listening you leave to me.”

“You’re my employee, Cleve. I won’t ask you to be involved in my family’s troubles.”

“You can’t leave me out of them, either. Just as soon as you marry me they will be my troubles, too.”

“You know very well I’m not going to marry you.” She wasn’t going to kiss him, either, but before her head could object…she leaned over and did.

She wished she hadn’t sighed out loud. If only she could taste Cleve without her heart going into a flutter.

A woman ought to be able to appreciate the flavor of a man without succumbing to him.

But there were fluttery wings tickling her heart and she hadn’t a clue what to do about them.

“Many marriages start with less than this,” Cleve murmured.

“I shouldn’t marry you, Cleve.” The sigh of hesitation in her voice wouldn’t have happened had Boodle not stirred in his sleep, reached up a chubby hand and touched Cleve’s nose.

“Fis,” the sleepy young voice mumbled.

When Cleve kissed the chubby fist near his lips, it was as though he kissed her, too.

It would take more willpower than she had not to succumb to that tender seduction.

Leanna stared at the moon-bright night through the saloon’s new stained-glass window. She didn’t see much but Cleve’s reflection in it, sitting at his table and dealing cards.

He spoke to his lone customer. Given that she stared at a reflected image, she was able to watch his lips grin, twitch in suppressed humor, then narrow in concentration, for quite some time without anyone knowing what she was about.

She couldn’t recall ever seeing a man with a more appealing mouth.

She didn’t want to, but she did like kissing Cleve. Three nights after the picnic she still daydreamed of the way he had captivated her after her last denial of his proposal.

He’d set Cabe down on the grass, glanced at Melvin, who had fallen asleep, pole in hand beside the stream, then turned his complete attention on her.

His first move of seduction had been with his eyes. Before his lips ever touched hers he’d looked at her long and hard. Long enough that he must have sensed that her refusal was not as firm as it had first been.

The kiss was different than any that had come before. Not playful or provocative, this one was intensely possessive. She would be his, it said, and nothing that she could do or say would change that.

He was a huntsman, and she his prey. He was pursuit and she…surrender.

The heat of her response, the way her bones melted to goopy mush, was impossible to deny. The grin he shot her when she finally managed to open her heavy lids told her that he had noticed.

What, she wondered while she tapped one finger on the glass, became of marriages that were based upon pleasures of the flesh? Maybe she ought to consider—

“Miss Cahill?”

“Yes, Mr. Webber?” Leanna said, spinning about with her cheeks flaming to face Massie’s beau.

“I’ve brought a note for you from Miss Aggie.”

He handed her a piece of paper that looked worn from repeated folding.

“I just want you to know that I wasn’t over there for any wrong reason. I’m a changed man, thanks to Miss Massie.”

“I’m pleased to hear that.” She opened the note. “How did Miss Aggie seem?”

“Scared, I reckon. Sick, too.” Massie’s beau looked at the floor. He scuffed his toe against the wood. “I used to be one of her regular customers, before Massie, that is. Aggie always did seem a timid thing, but now, well, I couldn’t help but read what she wrote. She needs help, Miss Cahill, and in a hurry.”

Leanna scanned the note. Sick and frightened summed it up.

“Thank you, Mr. Webber,” she said before she hurried toward Cleve, dealing cards to a trio of men.

“Mr. Holden,” she said. “May I have a word with you?”

“Of course, Miss Cahill.” Cleve stood and waved his hand at Lucinda, the signal that a change in dealers was needed.

Leanna hurried ahead of Cleve toward the back porch. Striding close behind her, he shut the back door.

“I need your help, Cleve.” She handed him the note. “You remember Aggie? She’s ready to come to Leanna’s Place but I think she is in danger.”

“I’ll go get her.”

“Not without me.”

“I’d argue that, if we had more time.”

“I think I might love you.” Leanna stood on her toes and hugged his neck.

She might love Cleve. She’d uttered that casually…in