alive and keeping Dew and Elle safe because he would surely want them tried for the robberies and the kidnapping.
“I can return most of the gold and cash if you promise Dew and Elle will be kept out of it.”
When he didn’t respond she saw an expression of such anguish on his face that she almost reached out to him. Almost. Almost because the expression was such a juxtaposition to what she expected that it made her question if she was reading it correctly. The room was dark with only the dancing flames for light and Brent stood to her in profile as he watched them. Her gaze darted away, uncertain.
After another few moments passed in silence, Charity fairly squirmed on the inside from awaiting his judgment. Surely he must have figured out what to do with her long ago and was only torturing her. The chance of him letting her go was virtually nonexistent, but the optimist in her needed to hear the words before she gave up on them.
“You’re not going to let me go, are you?” The question was soft and low, barely traversing the space between them.
“Not a chance.”
The words were so hard and determined, she jerked her head around to look at him. Nope, no anguish or compassion there. She faced a wall of stone cold resolve.
“Dew and Elle?”
“I don’t care about Dew and Elle.”
He seemed so angry now and so different from the almost cordial attitude of a moment ago that she took an unintentional step back, while attempting to maintain the feeling of calm and continue the bargaining. “Okay, if you can promise me that, then when the storm is over I can take you to the gold.”
Self-preservation was a skill she had learned since her father’s death and her subsequent flee from Boston and it kicked in now. Maybe she could escape from him during the search for the gold. She had already grasped at the idea of lunging for her gun but had rejected it almost immediately. There was no way she could manhandle him into the chains again and the idea of holding a gun on him the entire time they rode out the storm was equally ludicrous. Besides, she realized now that she couldn’t use it on him. And he probably did, too.
Escape was the only option.
He moved toward her but she only backed up again. “Charity, stop,” he gritted out. “I don’t want the gold. You’ll probably have to give that back at some point, but I don’t want to turn you in.” He ran his hands through his hair in frustration and the buffalo robe fell forgotten to the floor. “What a bastard you must think I am.”
Charity couldn’t stop her silent gasp when she saw he was naked. Sure, they had spent the better part of the evening making love but this was different. He was more magnificent than she had remembered.
Her cheeks flamed as she admired the strong, lean physique of the man in front of her. Her gaze moved over every part of him and her belly clenched longingly as a shiver ran through her.
“Would you care to see the backside now?” He cocked one brow.
“What? No—no. I—” Charity realized there was no gracious way to recover from her gaffe so she closed her eyes until she recovered and then took a deep breath. “You’re not turning me in? But you aren’t letting me go, either?”
“I’m not turning you in,” he began slowly. “Come back with me...to Boston.”
“I can’t go back there,” she replied automatically.
“It’s your home.”
“My home was taken from me because of your uncle, or have you forgotten that? This is the only home I have.” She gestured with a nod because her hands held the fur wrapped around her nakedness.
“There are some things we need to discuss.” When she only glared at him with untrusting eyes, he relented. “I know what Uncle Robert did to your family and he won’t be a problem. I’ve been assisting a two-year investigation into his handling of the family company and into his own personal investments. The government has enough evidence to convict him of fraud, money
“I can return most of the gold and cash if you promise Dew and Elle will be kept out of it.”
When he didn’t respond she saw an expression of such anguish on his face that she almost reached out to him. Almost. Almost because the expression was such a juxtaposition to what she expected that it made her question if she was reading it correctly. The room was dark with only the dancing flames for light and Brent stood to her in profile as he watched them. Her gaze darted away, uncertain.
After another few moments passed in silence, Charity fairly squirmed on the inside from awaiting his judgment. Surely he must have figured out what to do with her long ago and was only torturing her. The chance of him letting her go was virtually nonexistent, but the optimist in her needed to hear the words before she gave up on them.
“You’re not going to let me go, are you?” The question was soft and low, barely traversing the space between them.
“Not a chance.”
The words were so hard and determined, she jerked her head around to look at him. Nope, no anguish or compassion there. She faced a wall of stone cold resolve.
“Dew and Elle?”
“I don’t care about Dew and Elle.”
He seemed so angry now and so different from the almost cordial attitude of a moment ago that she took an unintentional step back, while attempting to maintain the feeling of calm and continue the bargaining. “Okay, if you can promise me that, then when the storm is over I can take you to the gold.”
Self-preservation was a skill she had learned since her father’s death and her subsequent flee from Boston and it kicked in now. Maybe she could escape from him during the search for the gold. She had already grasped at the idea of lunging for her gun but had rejected it almost immediately. There was no way she could manhandle him into the chains again and the idea of holding a gun on him the entire time they rode out the storm was equally ludicrous. Besides, she realized now that she couldn’t use it on him. And he probably did, too.
Escape was the only option.
He moved toward her but she only backed up again. “Charity, stop,” he gritted out. “I don’t want the gold. You’ll probably have to give that back at some point, but I don’t want to turn you in.” He ran his hands through his hair in frustration and the buffalo robe fell forgotten to the floor. “What a bastard you must think I am.”
Charity couldn’t stop her silent gasp when she saw he was naked. Sure, they had spent the better part of the evening making love but this was different. He was more magnificent than she had remembered.
Her cheeks flamed as she admired the strong, lean physique of the man in front of her. Her gaze moved over every part of him and her belly clenched longingly as a shiver ran through her.
“Would you care to see the backside now?” He cocked one brow.
“What? No—no. I—” Charity realized there was no gracious way to recover from her gaffe so she closed her eyes until she recovered and then took a deep breath. “You’re not turning me in? But you aren’t letting me go, either?”
“I’m not turning you in,” he began slowly. “Come back with me...to Boston.”
“I can’t go back there,” she replied automatically.
“It’s your home.”
“My home was taken from me because of your uncle, or have you forgotten that? This is the only home I have.” She gestured with a nod because her hands held the fur wrapped around her nakedness.
“There are some things we need to discuss.” When she only glared at him with untrusting eyes, he relented. “I know what Uncle Robert did to your family and he won’t be a problem. I’ve been assisting a two-year investigation into his handling of the family company and into his own personal investments. The government has enough evidence to convict him of fraud, money
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