Jared's Runaway Woman

Then he pulled away. Kinsey’s cheeks warmed, from embarrassment this time. She darted out of the room.

* * *

How embarrassing.

Jared yanked the window of his hotel room open farther, hoping for a breeze to cool the place—and him. He stood there gazing down at Main Street, and rested his thumbs on the buckle of his gun belt.

Damn pistol. He’d forgotten it again this morning when he’d headed out for breakfast, and this time made it all the way to the restaurant before he realized it. He’d had to turn around and come back for the thing.

Embarrassing, all right. And hardly a good way to fit in on the streets of Crystal Springs. The sheriff had seen him leaving the hotel and had stopped on the street and eyed him hard. Under ordinary circumstances Jared wouldn’t have cared what the lawman thought of him, but Jared didn’t want to arouse suspicion—any more than he already had, that is. After the incident with Kinsey in the alley, he knew the sheriff was watching him.

Another plume of warmth rose in Jared at the memory of kissing Kinsey in the alley. It was a thought he couldn’t get out of his mind. And it didn’t help any that he’d found her hiding in his hotel room this morning.

When he’d come back for the gun and caught a reflection in the washstand mirror, he’d known right away that the bottom he saw in the air was Kinsey’s. No question about it. He’d made a study of her backside each time he saw her.

Or maybe it was her scent hanging in the room that had alerted him to her presence. Sweet and pure, fresh.

The smell of her still wound through the room, and through him, driving his desire for her a little higher. It was a feeling that troubled him. She had been, after all, his brother’s wife.

To distract himself, Jared shoved his belongings back into his satchel. He didn’t bother to count the money; in his heart he knew Kinsey wouldn’t have taken any of it. Clark wouldn’t have married that sort of woman.

Of course, Jared wouldn’t have picked Kinsey as the type Clark would have been interested in—let alone married to. Jared remembered the sort of women Clark had courted, and they were nothing like Kinsey. Quiet and demure were more to Clark’s taste. Those sorts of young women were the norm in the social circle of the Mason family.

Clark could have changed his mind after meeting her, of course. Kinsey was the sort of woman who’d make any man think twice, Jared decided.

He muttered a curse. She would make a man think twice because she was so damn hardheaded. Determined and strong. Capable and independent. A wife like her could drive a man crazy, he decided.

Kinsey’s lingering scent caught his nose again and Jared grumbled as he headed for the door. He had to get out of this room. He had to get out of this town, too. He had a big job waiting for him up in Maine.

And above all, he had to redeem himself for what he’d done to Clark.

Jared fought off the bitter memory and focused on getting control of this situation.

Kinsey had decreed that he couldn’t talk to her until tonight after Sam went to bed. Well, he’d just see about that.

The morning had started out badly, but the afternoon had been better, Kinsey decided as she left the White Dove Cafе, her handbag a little heavier from the extra coins inside.

Mrs. Townsend had stopped her on the street and asked if she could help out during the midday meal service. Dixie, who hadn’t showed up for work this morning still wasn’t to be found it seemed. Kinsey had gratefully agreed, glad to have the extra money.

She’d been unable to meet Sam after school, though. He would walk home with the Gleason boys and was perfectly fine; Lily or Nell were always at the boardinghouse when Sam got home. Kinsey just liked being there when school ended, chatting with Miss Peyton and the other mothers, then hearing about Sam’s day as the two of them walked home together.

Of course, there was no way Kinsey could tellSam—or anyone—about her day. Caught red-handed inside Jared Mason’s hotel room. Accused of offering favors to get him to leave town. Then nearly kissing him—again.

Kinsey cringed inwardly as she recalled the moment he’d touched her wrists, how the sight of his big hands had caused her heart to beat a little faster, how the feel of his lips caressing her skin had sent another wave of heat through her.

As it did now. Kinsey glanced around the crowded street, making sure no one was watching, and picked up her pace.

Jared had intended to kiss her again in the hotel room. She just knew it. They’d looked into each other’s eyes and Kinsey had done the unthinkable. She felt herself rising on her toes, ready to receive his kiss.

Good gracious, what was wrong with her?

Perhaps that was part of his plan, Kinsey suddenly thought. Maybe he had done that on purpose to keep her off balance, keep her from thinking about the reality of her situation.

Jared Mason intended to take Sam away from her. He was smart. He’d do anything to get his way.

As would she.

Kinsey hardened her heart and pushed aside the memory of those moments in Jared’s hotel room. Worry and anxiety claimed her, swift and strong. She walked faster, anxious to get home to Sam.

But her worry proved baseless when she arrived at the boardinghouse and found Sam in the Gleasons’ yard, playing with the brothers. He saw her and hurried over.

“Hi, Mama.”

“Hi, honey.” She knelt down and gave him a hug. “How was school today?”

“We drew pictures,” he said.

“I’ll bet Miss Peyton liked yours the best,” Kinsey said. Even at this young age, Sam showed signs of having his father’s gift for drawing.

“Did you walk home with the Gleason boys?” Kinsey asked.

“Huh-uh,” Sam said. “Uncle Jared walked me.”

Kinsey’s blood ran cold. “Who—who walked with you?”

“Uncle Jared.” Sam gestured toward the boardinghouse.

Kinsey’s heart pounded into her throat and hung there. She got to her feet.

“You run on and play for a while, Sam,” she said, urging him toward the Gleason brothers.

Anger raged in Kinsey as she crossed the yard. Jared Mason, a man of power and privilege, so used to having everything he wanted, so accustomed to always getting his way. He’d deliberately ignored her wishes. He’d invaded her home. Turned her world upside down.

And now he’d moved threateningly close to Sam.

Kinsey yanked open the back door and stormed into the kitchen. There he stood, in the entrance to her bedroom. Kinsey’s anger doubled.

“How dare you,” she demanded, her breath coming in short puffs.

Jared stood still as a stone fortress, expressionless, unmoved by her anger, her outrage.

She stepped closer. “Don’t you ever—ever—come around Sam again. Don’t you ever—”

A smile tugged at the corner of Jared’s lips. Smug. Pleased with himself.

Powerful.

Jared held up a leather-bound book.