Breed True by Gem Sivad

on Grady, and green fire met cold slate.
    "All right." She nodded her acceptance, surprising him.
    It was a good enough answer for him. Negotiations were over, and he'd courted and claimed himself a bride. She turned to him, almost in his arms and lowered her voice, shielding the rest of the discussion from the other listeners in the room.
    "Why is it, Mr. Hawks, that our paths seem to keep crisscrossing?"
    He drew deep of her scent, the smell of Comfort Quince's soap and bottled pretties drifting up as he leaned closer to hear her husky voice. Her own rich musk wafted sweetly and tickled his senses, unexpectedly stirring an arousal. He was the first to step away, but he had the last word. "I think you know." His eyelids drifted to half slits, and a growl of hunger clawed at his throat. Siren, they call her. Jesus.

    *
    Jewel felt a minor triumph when her would-be groom stepped back. Although it shouldn't have been so, he took up more space than the others in the room combined. She assessed the half-breed rancher. I think you know. His muttered words erased any sense that she'd brought these troubles on him. Grady Hawks was just another man who wanted to use her.
    He wasn't the biggest man in the room—that would be Hiram Potter. Grady Hawks was neither tall nor broad, standing no more than a head above her five and a half feet.
    But his compact build exuded power that dominated everyone else—except her. The woman who was once Julie Fulton stared at him and resisted.
    Jewel let her eyes play mockingly across his face as his eyes undressed her. "My husband just perished at the hand of a murderer, Mr. Hawks. Surely you would allow a widow a discreet mourning period."
    Her words were now pitched to carry to the other room occupants. It was a call for agreement, protection, support. None was forthcoming.
    She tried to look past his thin lips, blade-like nose, and copper skin to see the man beneath. But he remained expressionless except for the pale eyes that returned her intent stare. For a moment she was dizzy; a combination of little food, fear, and the trauma of finding Frank, threatened her with weakness.
    Grady Hawks saw the moment her strength abandoned her, and he took her into his arms, preventing her slide to the floor. She looked up at the man balancing her weight, as he demonstrated his claim on her to the room members. For a moment, she wanted to close her eyes, let go, and let him take control.
    "Get this woman something to eat," he commanded. It was that order that brought her back to attention. His nose intruded into her space, and she commented waspishly,
    "I'm fine. I want nothing from these people. Let me up."

Chapter Five
    She pushed ineffectually at the forged steel of his shoulder as he remained close, his breath mixing intimately with hers.
    "You're very strong," she told him. But instead of the compliment or flirt it might have sounded, it was a recognition of the damage such strength could deliver. Jewel shuddered involuntarily.
    Grady Hawks set her on her feet but didn't remove the hand that telegraphed ownership from her back.
    The judge licked his lips and looked alternately at the rancher and then at her. Jewel could see that the man of mixed blood made most of the people in the room uneasy.
    When Judge Conklin moved toward her, Hawks shifted, subtly warning the other man away. And yet, he was careful to keep his gaze from touching any but her, ignoring the others in the room as though the two of them were alone. She was irritated at his possessive stance.
    "Well, then, Judge. Mrs. Rossiter has agreed. Let's get on with it." The voice of Hamilton Quince interrupted the silent tableaux, urging haste.
    "Wait," Jewel hesitated. Again, remnants of her former self clamored in her head.
    She turned to the man she had just agreed to marry. "I can't do this."
    But, on the porch, someone yelled, "Come on outside, Jewel. Glad you're back in town. You can stay at my place for awhile."
    "Better take her weapons