Capture The Night by Geralyn Dawson Page B

across his shoulders to his upper arms. Beneath her left hand, she felt the hard edge of the metal armband.
    Madeline wrapped her arms around him, hugging him and saying, “Judging by your actions, I think it’s something that goes beyond even terror.”
    She paused a moment, listening. Oh, how she wished that she’d get through to him, that he’d suddenly speak to her in a clear and rational voice. “I guess I shouldn’t complain. At least, you’re not choking me. That was the reason for the knife, wasn’t it? You were afraid you’d hurt me.”
    Inside the circle of her arms he shuddered. She paused and listened, thinking for a moment he might have heard her. The air around them throbbed with snip sounds, but it was the silence here with her that sounded thunderous in her ears.
    She detested it. She absolutely hated the way the cocky, egotistical, totally charming Texan had lost himself in this silent, wretched man.
    “You hate it, too, don’t you Brazos? That’s what lay behind all that talk earlier. The apology, the gift.” She stepped away from him and, in the darkness, crossed her arms and fussed. “You’ve no intention of changing your opinion about a woman’s place in society, do you? It was all a scheme to get me to allow you into my bed!” She sniffed disdainfully, then wished she hadn’t. She kept forgetting about the corpse.
    Madeline sat beside Brazos. She wrapped an arm around his and said ruefully, “Actually, you presented a fine argument. You exploited my weaknesses. I’m impressed, Sinclair, I didn’t think you had that sort of scheming in you. Of course, I undoubtedly have more practice at it than you, and I’d have determined your game in short order—probably when you went glassy-eyed hearing me talk about women’s talents.”
    She chuckled softly, and the more she thought about it, the more intriguing the idea became. Brazos Sinclair sharing a bunk with her each night. It offered interesting possibilities.
    As she sat in the dark, Madeline’s heart told her to help this poor man, to offer him the comfort of her bed, and the protection her company appeared to provide him. But Madeline had been a thief too long to listen only to her heart. She put her mind to work.
    She knew what such an arrangement would bring Brazos, but what would it offer her? Her goals in life had not changed. She still wanted a real home and a family to love, including a wonderful father for Rose and any other children a marriage might bring.
    Brazos Sinclair wasn’t part of that dream. It shamed her to admit, but after she’d seen him like this, her opinion in that regard had only been reinforced.
    So, in keeping with her long-standing rule of never giving without taking in return, if she allowed Brazos into her bed, what could she expect from him?
    Money? Madeline shook her head. She didn’t need money. Prestige or power in society might motivate others, but she’d no interest in them. “You tell me, Brazos. What do you have to offer a woman?”
    Immediately, the memory of his naked body intertwined with hers flashed brilliant in her mind. “Not that. It’s not exactly the sort of thing a woman can take to the bank.” Besides, he’d said platonically . He’d made quite a point about it. An annoying point, in fact.
    “You know, Brazos, you needn’t have made such an issue about a physical relationship between us. I have quite specific goals about that also.”
    She leaned against him, rested her head on his shoulder. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat gave her comfort as she said in a dreamy tone of voice, “When I find my man, he’ll love me desperately. It won’t matter that I’ve another man’s child I’ll be bringing to the marriage. He won’t care whether I’m wealthy or poor—of course, I’ll be wealthy, but he won’t necessarily know that. He’ll be a romantic, and he’ll woo me, and pursue me, and claim he’s in agony with wanting before I finally allow him to marry me and