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He rubbed his hands over her back and arms. “Hush now. There’s nothing wrong with sharing our warmth.”
His deep voice washed over her in heavy, shattering waves. Gideon Cade surrounded her. His thighs cradled her. His musky scent, at once alien and strangely enticing, teased her senses. Freeing herself from his bold trespass became of paramount importance.
She tried wiggling.
“Miss Step…Oh, hell, I refuse to say, ‘Miss Step’ one more time. Your first name is Emma, right?”
“Yes,” she answered absently. She was beginning to feel light-headed from her exertions. Nor was her corset helping matters. “But I haven’t given you leave to address me by my first name.”
“You’re a thorny little thing, aren’t you?”
Her thoughts turned to the practical logistics of gaining her freedom. There was no help for it. She was going to have to push against his chest. Before this contest was over, she intended to demonstrate he couldn’t put his hands on her every time he felt like it.
“You do realize there’s no point in trying to break free, don’t you?”
She detested his almost whimsical tone. “I realize you are indeed the bully I called you earlier.”
Her efforts to push free accomplished nothing. Desperation joined her growing sense of frustration. Being caught in his embrace against her will was too much a model of her life’s present disarray. Getting free represented gaining control over that which overwhelmed her.
“If you don’t release me this instant, I shall blacken your eye.”
His husky chuckle tickled her ear. “Better men than you have tried and failed to do so.”
She doubled up her fist.
“I’m giving you fair warning—”
The carriage stopped abruptly.
“Oof!” The involuntarily sound accompanied the air whooshing from her lungs. He took the opportunity to squeeze her more intimately against his unyielding chest.
“You all right, honey?”
His ill-mannered familiarity and his hands brushing fleetingly across her writhing person sparked a strange response from Emma. Unfortunately for her peace of mind, it wasn’t one of loathing. No, a series of alarmingly thrilling tingles now competed for her attention.
Both furious and frightened by the powerful tremors skating through her, she felt the last layer of her control disintegrate.
Without any warning—either to herself or to the thug holding her against her will—her clenched fist smacked him in the jaw. One second she was his prisoner, and the next she was…Well, she was still his prisoner, but now he held her with one arm wrapped around her, instead of two. Her fist throbbed as painfully as her toes. Good grief, by the time full daylight struck, she was going to be confined to a bed.
“I’ll give you that blow, Emma.”
Slowly he allowed her to slide from his lap and reclaim her space on the seat next to him. He might concede that she’d had every right to hit him, but Emma was horrified by her unrestrained behavior. She rubbed her aching fingers and wondered if she had been around Miss Loutitia too long and was in danger of becoming one of those females prone to hysteria.
Her only question was how this vigilante robber baron would choose to retaliate. After all, it was rumored he hunted down those who crossed him. She swallowed. From the way her fingers stung, she’d clearly struck him a vicious blow. No doubt his head was still ringing from the pain, and that was why he was staring at her as if she were a new species of mammal.
A mysterious source of light permeated the carriage’s interior. Mr. Cade’s features were cast in a reddish glow that created the sinister illusion that she was gazing into Lucifer’s harsh features, lit by the fires of never-ending perdition.
A fierce pounding assaulted the coach’s door. “The school is on fire!”
The driver’s announcement brought with it the blistering sensation of heat. The horses whinnied their distress, and the vehicle lurched forward.
“See to the team, Hennesy,” came Mr. Cade’s curt command. “Wait here, Emma, while I find out what’s going on.”
He stepped from the carriage, closing the door behind him. Sound exploded around her. A coarse litany of shouts shredded the cocoon of silence that had engulfed her and Courtney’s uncle. She looked through a small window. Clusters of men lined up in bucket brigades.
Dismissing Mr. Cade’s order that she remain inside the coach, Emma swung open the door and jumped from the carriage. The flash of pain in her foot barely registered.
Towering columns of flames held her rapt attention.
Had it not been for the recent rain, she suspected, the entire block would have been lost. She jerked herself free from the conflagration’s hypnotic spell. The sudden need to make sure everyone had escaped safely swept through her.
“Emma! Emma!”
The sound of her name being frantically screamed above the blaze’s crackling roar had her looking in all directions. Through the wild din of confusion, Jayne Stoneworthy rushed toward her.
“Thank God, you’re alive!” Jayne cried when she reached her. The fellow instructor’s smoke-blackened robe was torn. Tears and a layer of soot streaked her face. “We thought we had lost you….”
Emma accepted her friend’s tearful embrace. “I’m fine.”
Jayne straightened and rubbed her red-rimmed eyes. “We haven’t been able to find Courtney.”
At her fellow teacher’s stricken features, Emma’s heart twisted. “Courtney’s safe, too.”
“I don’t understand. Where were you, and where’s—”
“Miss Step!”
Loutitia Hempshire’s shrill shout cut Jayne off. Emma had no difficulty making out the headmistress’s plump form as she waddled purposefully toward her through the melee of men, wagons and bystanders. Loutitia’s nephew, Lyman Thornton, was having difficulty keeping up with his aunt. The leanly fit gentleman trailed a full three feet behind the redfaced, panting woman.
With her flowing nightgown and billowing robe sailing out behind her, she resembled a ship being pushed by a full gale. “Miss Step, here you are at last. We’ve been looking all over for you.” Loutitia barely stopped before running into Emma. “Where on earth were you?”
“I was—”
“Oh, never mind!” the woman shrieked. “It’s gone. It’s all gone!” She dabbed at her eyes with a grimy handkerchief. “The dreadful fire has destroyed everything. Oh, what will become of me?”
“Since you were already planning on closing the school, its loss can’t be that painful.”
The callous remark came from Loutitia’s nephew. Unlike the people milling about, Lyman Thornton was dressed in something other than sleeping apparel. His coat, shirt and trousers showed no evidence of soot or water stains. Evidently, the owner of Denver’s largest hotel hadn’t seen the necessity of assisting the water brigade.
“But I intended on taking my furnishings,” she wailed. “Oh, my beautiful French bed, my lamps, my armoire—” Her voice broke on that last treasured possession. “My armoire is ashes.”
The older woman sobbed into her handkerchief, as heartbroken as if listing the names of her own children who had perished in the fire.
Her nephew remained coolly unaffected. “Come now, Loutitia, the insurance will cover our losses. And, as the French haven’t stopped making furniture, I’ll see you get another ostentatious bed to take to when a fit of the vapors strikes.”
Miss Loutitia raised her damp face from the hankie. “And a new armoire, too? Do you promise?”
“Whatever you want,” he said negligently. Emma noticed that his wavy brown hair was neatly combed. The only indication that he’d dressed in haste was his open shirt collar.
Loutitia blew her nose. “Oh, I don’t know how you can be so inhumanly calm.”
“Practice, dear Aunt, practice.”
“That and the fact you didn’t lose anything in the blaze,” she sniffed. “Goodness, you planned on tearing down the building to make room for that new hotel you’ve been talking about ever since you informed me Hempshire Academy could no longer remain in business.” Loutitia took a hiccupy breath as she turned her attention to Emma. “We were afraid you didn’t make it out alive. I guess I shouldn’t chide Lyman for always being so calm. He certainly wasn’t, my dear, when it appeared you’d been trapped inside.”
Emma was aware of Lyman Thornton’s regard. During the few weeks she worked for his aunt, she’d wondered what she’d done to spark his curiosity. Much to her consternation, he’d developed the unsettling habit of standing in the background and observing her. Rarely did he take the opportunity to engage her in conversation. He seemed content just to watch her. She didn’t know what to make of him. Because he was wealthy, smoothly handsome and a pillar of the community, she knew his interest wasn’t of a personal nature.
“As you can see, I’m fine.” Emma looked toward the fire. It amazed her that in a matter of minutes it could recede from an inferno to the smoldering hiss of dying flames. The morning sun came out, banishing the fog. As the smoke settled, a blackened ruin stood in place of the academy. “Did everyone make it out safely?”
It was a question she should have asked sooner. She visualized the faces of her students and co-workers, realizing she’d delayed voicing it because she didn’t know if she could bear the answer.
A look of despair welled up in Loutitia’s puffy eyes. “I’m afraid we lost the Cade girl….”
“Courtney’s all right,” Emma said quickly, wanting to spare Loutitia an extra moment of grief. “She’s at her uncle’s house.”
“Thank God!” More tears streamed from the headmistress. “Of all the students to have lost…I was terrified when Mr. Cade found out, he would…Well, there’s no telling what a man like that might do.”
It was at that juncture that Emma saw Gideon Cade standing behind the older woman. Flames every bit as deadly as those that had lapped at the academy smoldered in his angry gaze.
“It was horrible to be awakened by the shouting and screaming,” Loutitia continued. “Smoke was everywhere. I thought I was going to die. It was…” She dissolved into more sobs.
“Come, it’s time I take you home,” Thornton said.
“My home’s burned to the ground!” she cried pitifully.
“You were planning on living with me after the academy closed,” her nephew reminded her.
She sighed. “I know, but it wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
“Just a moment, Miss Hempshire.”
Emma watched Jayne Stoneworthy, Loutitia and Lyman Thornton turn in unison toward Gideon Cade. That he towered above the women, and even Loutitia’s nephew, was probably something Cade took for granted.
“Uh, yes, Mr. Cade?” Loutitia inquired timidly.
“Are you certain everyone is accounted for?”
She nodded. “Yes, Miss Stoneworthy and I tallied the number of teachers and students before they left for the various hotels that agreed to take them in for the night. Everyone made it out safely.”
“Do you know how the fire started?”
Her plump hands fluttered uselessly. “I have no idea.”
“We’ll probably never find out,” Lyman Thornton interjected. “A candle could have been set too close to the draperies, a log in one of the fireplaces could have shot a spark that caught, a lamp could have tipped over—any number of things could have happened.”
“I’m just grateful no lives were lost.” Loutitia wiped her eyes with the twisted handkerchief. “It’s bad enough my armoire was destroyed.”
“Yes, Aunt, tonight has been a terrible ordeal for you.”
“I’m really not sure I’m going to be able to recover.” Loutitia looked helplessly at her nephew.
“I’ll take you home now.” He glanced at Emma. “Naturally, you’ll be joining us.”
Until that very moment, Emma had given no thought about where she would sleep. Nevertheless, his assumption startled her. “It’s very kind of you to offer, but I imagine I’ll stay with the other teachers at one of the hotels.”
It was only as she spoke that the dire nature of her plight struck Emma. She had no money, no clothes, and nowhere to go. A trunk being dropped on her head couldn’t have struck with greater impact.
At the age of twenty-four, she was stranded in a strange city where she’d lived a few weeks, out of work and destitute.
Chapter Five (#ulink_5d84a141-3d66-5680-9a35-3b686635bc7b)
Emma Step brushed a lock of hair from her cheek. Throughout their early-morning encounter, Gideon had watched a myriad of emotions cross the schoolmistress’s mobile features. For the first time since he’d met her, fear touched her gaze. Her vulnerability aroused protective instincts he was chagrined to discover he possessed.
“Don’t worry about imposing upon us,” Lyman Thornton persisted. “Having you in our home is the least we can do. Right, Aunt Loutitia?”
“Certainly you’re welcome to stay the night, dear.”
“It’s already morning,” Lyman corrected. “You’ll be more comfortable with us than at one of the hotels. It’s bound to take time to reestablish yourself here, Miss Step. You’re welcome to remain our guest for as long as you wish,” he added persuasively.
Gideon had never cared for Lyman Thornton. Like the majority of Denver residents, he was an eastern transplant. They’d never conducted any business transactions, but their paths had crossed more than once socially. The man projected a snobbish attitude that grated on Gideon’s nerves. The irony didn’t escape him that Emma had charged him with the same fault. Thornton’s suggestion that she stay in his home indefinitely pushed Gideon’s passive dislike to active hostility.
He had no intention of letting Thornton stampede her into moving in with him. Especially when, considering Loutitia Hempshire’s flightiness, the older woman would be a washout as a chaperone. Judging from Miss Step’s pallor, and the way she stood huddled in her shabby cloak, she was in no condition to make decisions for herself.
It shouldn’t have mattered to Gideon what happened to Courtney’s teacher. He frowned. Since the academy no longer existed, the woman was his niece’s former teacher. Not even the flimsiest connection existed between them. No argument could be put forth that she was his responsibility.
And yet, he found himself unable to abandon her to Thornton’s suspect hospitality. Something had passed between the queerly appealing woman and himself. Her earnest, prickly, damnably intriguing manner had nudged him to a peculiar awareness that wouldn’t let him walk away from her.
“Miss Step appreciates your offer, Thornton.” Complications… Knowing he was inviting a swarm of them into his organized household wasn’t enough to nail his lips shut “But she’s decided to stay with my niece and me.” ’Miss Step’s head came up. Some of the dullness faded from her eyes. “I certainly have—”
Since he was fairly certain he wasn’t going to like what she had to say on the matter, he silenced her by sweeping her into his arms.
“Oh!”
The startled gasp had to be less of a protest than the one she’d been about to utter. He noticed again how light she was. A robust breeze could have blown her into Kansas.
She attempted to squirm free. “Now just a minute…” “She hurt her foot earlier this evening,” he informed the clearly shocked group. “She’ll be able to recover more quickly at my place.”
It didn’t matter that his explanation made no sense. People rarely challenged his decisions.
Proving there was an exception to every rule, Thornton spoke. “I don’t think Miss Step appreciates being manhandled. As. for her foot—”
‘Terrible accident,” Gideon interjected. “The pain makes it difficult for her to speak.”
“I can talk perfectly—”
Gideon patted the back of her head. “You don’t have to thank me.”
“Mmmph…”
