Cherished Read Online Free PDF

influence of love. This
man had never been tethered by anything, Juliana realized. And
those keen, intense blue eyes were like none other she had ever
seen.
    He
was like none she had ever seen.
As she steadied herself against the wall, recovering from being
knocked aside, his gaze bored straight into her without a flicker
of emotion.
    “Beg your pardon, ma’am.”
    He didn’t sound the least bit sorry.
    His cold glance swept past, scanning either
side of the road. He spoke again, his voice soft and even as he
appraised the empty street.
    “If I were you, ma’am, I’d step back a pace
or this hombre will bleed all over that pretty dress of yours,” the
stranger drawled without sparing her a second glance.
    It was then that Juliana had the wit to tear
her gaze from that magnetic face. Looking down, she saw with a
quiver of horror that he was casually dragging behind him a man’s
blue-and-yellow-shirted, blood-spattered body.
    Juliana had never fainted before in her life,
but she’d never seen a dead body before either. She took one look
at the blood and guts spilling from the dead man and felt a great
dry coldness sweep over her. The man was wearing a blue and yellow
shirt—oddly familiar. He had golden blond hair, thick and silky,
falling over his face.
    The shirt, the hair ... it came to her with a
jolt, it looked just like ...
    “Tommy!” she whispered with a breath of
horror, and then she pitched forward like a rag doll straight into
the stranger’s arms.
2
    The stranger caught her just before she hit
the ground. Cursing, he was forced to release his hold on the dead
man’s shirt and to sweep an arm about the swooning girl before she
crashed onto the boardwalk.
Just what I need
, Cole Rawdon
thought in disgust.
A fool woman to slow me down
.
    “Damn it all to hell,” he muttered under his
breath as her hat fell off and a tumble of gold curls cascaded
down, nearly touching the ground.
    A crowd was gathering. Rawdon hated
crowds.
    “What are you staring at?” He glared at the
sea of faces, and the onlookers scattered. With a grimace he turned
back to the woman, really seeing her for the first time. She was a
slip of a thing, no more. And pretty as pie. Pretty? No, Cole
decided. Pretty didn’t quite describe her. She was beautiful. For a
moment he forgot about the dead man and the crowd, and found
himself studying the girl.
    Cole didn’t remember ever seeing skin so
creamy and smooth, or hair quite so pure and dazzling a gold. Or
features so elegant—as though they’d been cut from fine crystal.
Breakable, that’s how she looked. Like she belonged on a china shop
shelf, not the streets of Denver. For a moment he just stared at
her, mesmerized. Then he came to his senses with a start. Hell, it
was damned inconvenient to be stuck holding on to this female in
the middle of Denver when he had to get Gus Borden’s corpse to
Sugar Creek pronto. A two-hundred-dollar reward was waiting at the
end of that four-hour ride—and Cole meant to claim it, and get rid
of Gus, before the outlaw’s body started to rot. For a moment
longer he let his eyes slide over the girl’s willowy form, admiring
the soft curves beneath her fancy dress, the way her breasts
strained against the tight fabric.
Damn, she is something
.
Too bad I’m in a hurry
, he thought, his eyes narrowing
with regret.
If I had more time, I’d wait around to see if she
knows how to show a man proper gratitude
. He doubted it. Any
girl who fainted at the sight of a little blood was sure to be too
weak-spined and silly to be any fun at all. Besides, Ina Day was
dancing in the Red Feather Saloon in Sugar Creek tonight and she
always knew how to show him a good time.
    Cole tore his gaze from the delicate planes
of the girl’s face with an effort. A thin man with dark whiskers
was watching him warily from ten paces down the boardwalk. “Hey,
you, come here,” he ordered. “Grab ahold of this woman and ... do
something with her.”
    As the man