Cooper's Woman Read Online Free PDF

didn’t travel in the same circles and Albuquerque was a damn sight larger than Questa Springs.
    He was sorry to say that his thoughts scattered again when the voluptuous blonde pivoted away from Webster and swanned across the street. A short, wiry man of Mexican descent, who looked to be in his late twenties, followed ten paces behind her.
    The bodyguard or chaperone, no doubt. Bodyguard, Coop decided when he noted the nasty looking, foot-long dagger strapped to the man’s thigh. Apparently Harold Quinn didn’t allow his dainty daughter to traipse around the rugged Sacramento Mountains without a competent protector watching her.
    As Alexa approached, all dimpled smiles and radiant beauty, Coop forced himself not to change expression. He willfully battled down his unwanted physical attraction. In addition, he reminded himself that there were too many Alexa Quinns flitting around high society and he didn’t like any of them.
    â€œGood morning, Marshal,” she greeted Gil then nodded politely to Coop. “And good day to you, sir.” She glanced directly at his battered cane. “I’m sorry to see you are nursing an injury. I hope it isn’t too serious.”
    â€œNothing I can’t live with,” he replied as she swept past.
    The alluring scent of her perfume infiltrated his nostrils. Coop took a step backward to prevent the fragrance from clogging his brain and smothering his good sense. Distracted though he was, something familiar niggled him. Maybe he had seen her before in Albuquerque. Maybe he had heard her voice somewhere. No, that was impossible, he told himself. He would have remembered everything about this woman.
    With her expensive hat sitting at a jaunty angle on her head, twirling her parasol on her shoulder like a carousel, she sashayed into one of the boutiques. No doubt, her greatest interest in life was shopping. Here was the crowning example of the idle rich. She might be every man’s fantasy, but he doubted she had a brain in her pretty blond head.
    â€œDamn Webster’s luck,” Gil grumbled enviously. “Can you imagine the possibility of marrying a woman like that and bedding down with her every night?”
    â€œNope,” Coop replied. “Wipe your mouth, Gil. You’re drooling.”
    Gil shook himself from his erotic thoughts. “Well, I won’t keep you from your part-time job. Maybe we can have dinner and a drink tonight when we’re both off duty.”
    â€œSounds good.” Coop cast one last glance at the boutique to note the bodyguard waiting outside with feet askew and arms crossed over his chest. As one servant of the affluent to another, Coop nodded and the Mexican nodded back.
    There is one job I’d refuse to take, Coop thought as he headed for the saloon. He wouldn’t want to be Alexa Quinn’s lackey. He sincerely hoped the bodyguard was well paid for his trouble.
    As for a potential match between Harold Quinn’s daughter and Elliot Webster, they probably deserved each other, he decided. Nevertheless, Mr. Chester had paid Coop considerable money to monitor Webster’s activities. Coop would do his job to the best of his ability. The last thing he needed was the high and mighty Harold Quinn spreading word that he was an incompetent investigator.
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    Alexa expelled a sigh of relief while she sorted through the day dresses in the boutique. She had underestimated her reaction to Wyatt Cooper. In broad daylight and at close range he was even more arresting than he’d been while he loomed in the gathering shadows of sunset. His piercing green eyes, wavy raven hair and muscular physique combined to make an impressive package of masculinity. She had noticed how other women on the street had taken a wide berth around him, but there was no mistaking the speculative glances he received from them. He might be considered a hard-edged, dangerous gunfighter, the angel of doom to outlaws, but he was