The Fall of Rome Read online

The buggy rolled to a stop. Paco appeared out of nowhere and took the horses in hand. He jabbed a bony finger at the baggage, indicating he’d handle that, too. Athens handled Kat. He rounded the buggy and handed her down. Then he waited patiently while she shook wrinkles and trail dust from her blue satin skirt and adjusted her frilled bonnet. Always fussing with her appearance. Mostly the reason she always ran late.

  Rome noted the riderless horse tethered to the back of the buggy. Athens’s horse. “Where’s Boston?”

  Seth shrugged. “Don’t know.”

  Rome couldn’t venture because his brain was fixed on the women sashaying her way to the porch. He noted her tall, graceful form, more slender than her former voluptuous self. Her cleavage wasn’t as pronounced as in the past. Then again, the neckline of her bodice wasn’t as low. Her complexion was still flawless, but no longer alabaster. Sun-kissed, he thought, noting the freckles beneath the powder. She still favored cosmetics, but with a subtler hand. Instead of crimson red, she’d painted her lips dusty rose. Kohl liner enhanced her doe-brown eyes. Eyes that had yet to meet his own.

  “Stunning,” said Seth.

  “Can’t believe you’re obsessed with a damned sunset.”

  “I was talking about Miss Simmons.”

  Rome shifted. “I’m going to kick your ass before this assignment’s over.”

  The grin widened. “You can try.”

  Athens whispered something in Kat’s ear, squeezed her elbow. She smiled and Rome felt a stab of longing. He remembered with aching clarity the last time she’d smiled at him.

  “Sorry for the delay,” Athens said as they climbed the steps.

  “Worth the wait,” Seth said.

  “You must be Seth Wright,” she said with an easy smile. “Heard you’re a charmer.”

  “Heard you were beautiful. That’s an understatement.”

  “Definite charmer.”

  “So says my wife.”

  “Lucky woman,” said Kat.

  “I’m the lucky one,” Seth said.

  Rome folded his arms, feigning boredom. Was she ignoring him to perturb him? Playing coy to disguise her nerves? Two could play at that game. One thing he knew for certain, Kat loved games.

  “Katrina Simmons,” she said, offering Seth a gloved hand. “Everyone calls me Kat.”

  “Always lands on her feet,” said Rome.

  At last she looked his way . . . and nearly knocked him on his ass. “Been a long time, Rome.”

  Her pointed gaze grated and enflamed at the same time. He hadn’t counted on being this seduced by her presence. After all the hurt. All the years. He fought to disguise any flicker of attraction as she took stock of him. He tried picturing himself through her eyes. Last she’d seen him, he’d been cocky, reckless, and temperamental. Come to think of it, he hadn’t changed all that much. Except his hair was longer and his patience shorter.

  “I’d say it’s good to see you,” she said, “but I’d be playing loose with the truth.”

  “God knows you never lie, sweetheart.”

  She didn’t flinch, but he caught a flash of something. Just a spark. Anger. Hurt. He couldn’t be sure. He was never sure with Kat.

  “Shame about your losing face with Wells Fargo and the populace,” she said.

  He couldn’t tell by tone or expression if she was being sympathetic or sarcastic. Given he’d just insulted her, he banked on the latter.

  Athens frowned. “Let’s take this inside.”

  Seconds later they all faced off in the parlor. Rome eyed the brandy. Kat eyed him. Athens eyed the both of them and Seth looked amused. Hell’s fire, Rome thought.

  “This is why I wanted to meet in private, prior to setting this trap. Let’s get this out and over with,” Athens said. “Deal with it squarely.”

  “Fairly, you mean,” said Seth.

  “Bulls-Eye Brady doesn’t play fair,” Athens said. “Life isn’t fair. Forget fair.”

  “Where’s Boston?” Rome asked, maybe too forcefully, but hell, their even-keeled brother had turned cynical. All was not right with the world.

  “Protecting Miss Simmons interests.”

  He waited for Athens to elaborate. When he didn’t, he looked to Kat.

  After a tense moment, she spoke. “I have a niece. If this scheme goes bad, I want to make sure she’s protected should Brady retaliate.”

  “It won’t go bad,” Rome said. Partly out of arrogance. Partly to ease the trace of worry etched in her brow. Then he remembered. “Thought you were an only child.”

  “I had a half-sister. Never mentioned her, as we were estranged.”

  “Had?”

  “She passed on and now I’m responsible for Frankie.”

  “Sorry for your loss,” he said. “What about the girl’s pa?”

  “Also gone.”

  “Fate can be cruel,” Athens said.

  And warped, Rome thought. He couldn’t imagine Kat in a maternal role. She’d never been comfortable around children. Besides, she was a professional gambler. Someone who moved from town to town, bawdy to bawdy. What kind of a life was that for a kid?

  The same life Kat had.

  She folded her arms, set her jaw. “Go ahead and say it.”

  “Just trying to wrap my mind around the notion.”

  “Don’t bother. I can see it’s paining you.”

  “I think it’s right noble of you, Miss Simmons,” Seth cut in. “Taking in an orphaned girl.”

  “She’s not an orphan,” Kat countered. “She has me. I intend to protect her from the heartless miscreants in this world. Starting with Brady.”

  Rome eyed her hard, pondered the bitterness in her voice. “How long did it take you to recognize him for the devil he is?”

  “Not long.” She glared back, waited. “Aren’t you going to say I told you so?”

  “Why state the obvious?”

  “I’ve arranged for another Peacemaker to join Boston,” Athens said in a tight voice. “Not that he needs backup, but better safe than sorry.”

  Rome had to ask. “He still pissed at me?”

  “Can you blame him?”

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “Would you like something to drink?” Seth asked Kat. “Cider? Coffee? Brandy?”

  “A glass of cider would be refreshing,” she said as she removed her stylish bonnet. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

  “No trouble. While I’m in the kitchen, I’ll let Maderia know we’ll be ready for dinner after you’ve had a chance to freshen up. Long ride. You must be famished.”

  “Pleasant man,” she commented when Seth was gone. Rome grunted.

  “The sooner we complete this mission, the better,” Athens said. “So I’m going to be blunt.”

  More proof that the world was askew. A born diplomat and career politician, Athens pretty talked, double-talked, and talked in circles. Talking plain was not in his repertoire.

  “I’m not privy to details, but I know you two were romantically involved. I know Brady came between you, and things went bad.”

  He turned to Kat. “I heard Brady’s obsession with you didn’t end when you called it quits.”

  Then to Rome. “And that above any rival, he resented you the most.”

  Rome braced hands on hips. “Not privy to details, huh?”

  “What I’m hoping,” Athens continued, “what I need is for you two to set aside your differences. I need you to put on a show. To tempt Brady out of hiding. I need to put an end to his senseless killing.”

  Rome paid particular attention to his wording. The raw edge in his tone. His rigid stance. An expert at reading people, Kat’s thoughts no doubt mirrored his own. For Athens, this mission was personal.

  “Be assured,” she said, “I want Jed Brady behind bars as much as you do.”

  “I’ve got men interviewing victims of the gang’s last robbery. If I can secure an eye witness willing to testify about the killings,” he said, “Brady will swing.”

  Kat d
idn’t flinch, intimating that punishment was fine by her. Rome had never known her to wish a man dead. He understood Athens’s agenda. Her motivation was less clear. The lioness protecting her cub didn’t wash. She’d always been self-absorbed.

  “Like my brother, I’ll be blunt,” Rome said, gaze locked on hers. “How far are you willing to go?”

  “To hell and back.” She feigned a sugar-sweet smile. “Figuratively speaking.”

  He grinned. Couldn’t help it. Physically, she’d changed, but she was still an enchanting spitfire. The only woman who’d ever kept him on his toes and off balance. She’d just insulted him, but the only thing she’d stirred was his interest.

  “So it’s settled,” Athens said. “You’re united in your commitment to trap Bulls-Eye Brady.

  “Whatever it takes,” Kat said. She offered a hand in agreement to Rome, her gaze never wavering from his.

  Intrigued, he clasped her gloved palm. “Whatever it takes.”

  “It’s going to take more than a handshake to make Brady believe you’re lovers,” Seth stated bluntly as he reentered the room.

  “I believe your friend is suggesting we kiss and make up,” Kat said.

  “He’s not my friend,” Rome said. He’d yet to let go of her hand. She’d yet to pull free. One or the other or both had closed the distance. They stood toe to toe. Honeysuckle teased his nostrils. Rosy lips tempted him to feast.

  “Do you hate me that much?” she whispered, when he didn’t succumb.

  “I’ve felt a lot of things where you’re concerned,” he said honestly, “but never hate.”

  “Wish I could say the same.”

  The admission shouldn’t have surprised him, especially since they were speaking frankly, but it did. He was the injured party for chrissakes.

  “We’re in trouble,” Seth said.

  “For the good of mankind,” Athens prodded.

  Rome leaned in, wanting to prove she’d mistaken disillusionment and regret for hate. Needing to prove some part of her still burned for him. “For justice.”

  “For show.” Kat pressed her mouth to his, and though her lips lingered longer than considered decent, the kiss was chaste. She eased back and cocked a brow at the two voyeurs. “I trust that will suffice for now. Rest easy, gentlemen. When it matters--”

  Rome nabbed her wrists and hauled her against his body. It mattered now. He crushed his mouth to hers, demanding yet tender--the way she liked it. He cradled her head, tongued the seam of her mouth. His blood heated in anticipation. Kissing Kat nearly always sent him over the edge. She opened to him. He feasted.

  But there was no satisfaction.

  Instead of melting in his arms, she iced over. Not visibly. Internally. Outwardly, she appeared an eager participant. But there was no passion in her response. No sincere fire.

  He broke off, pissed that, despite the betrayal, she still stoked his lust. Marveling at his inability to stir her blood in kind. To rekindle an old flame. He’d been her first, dammit. There had to be some lingering affection.

  “Good God,” said Athens, notably uncomfortable.

  Seth whistled low. “When you two put on a show...”

  Only he hadn’t been acting. Kat on the other hand...

  Riled by the defiance sparking in her eyes, Rome lowered his gaze. That’s when he saw it. Her tell. The beet-red flush staining her slender neck. Desire.

  She’d been acting all right, just not in the way he’d thought. He’d bet his Stetson her knees were wobbly under that fancy gown. If he gripped her wrists now, he’d detect a racing pulse. He held the high card, but still she bluffed.

  “This will be easier than I thought,” she said with a cocky grin.

  He squelched his own smug smile. My thoughts exactly.

  Athens cleared his throat, nudged Seth. “Show Miss Simmons to her room?”

  “My pleasure.”

  Rome felt better than he’d felt in weeks as he watched her go. She’d be back and the game would be on. This was definitely a win-win situation. By bagging Brady, he’d regain good favor in the public’s eye. By bagging Kat, he’d regain full possession of his heart. All he had to do was romance the sassy vixen and recapture what they’d had before.

  Only this time, he’d be the heartbreaker.

  CHAPTER 9

  Ear pressed to the secured door of her assigned bedroom, Kat remained calm until she was certain Seth Wright had descended the stairs. She counted to ten, then pushed off the door and flung herself on the bed. She screamed her frustration into a pillow. How could she be so shallow? So susceptible? The man was arrogant and unforgiving. Yet it had taken every ounce of her willpower not to melt in Rome Garrett’s arms.

  All had been well until he’d initiated that second, deeper kiss. Up until that moment she’d been convinced that what she’d mistaken as undying love for Rome was six feet under.

  She’d pondered their reunion on the lengthy journey, her stomach knotted and queasy. Would he strike her dizzy with his good looks and charm much the same as the first night they met? Would her heart ache to regain the passion and joy they’d initially experienced? Would she burn with shame, knowing she’d done him wrong, but not remembering the how or way of it? Or, the worst fear of all, would she relive the humiliation and hurt when he’d refused to give her the benefit of the doubt after discovering her in Brady’s bed? She’d anticipated any and all of those scenarios, calculated how she’d deal with each one.

  She hadn’t anticipated the overwhelming, all-consuming anger.

  No guilt. No regret. No sadness or affection. Just white-hot anger. Standing on that veranda, it had taken massive restraint not to slap his face when they locked gazes. All of the things she wished she’d said in response to his hurtful name calling that awful night begged, no, ached, to be shouted. Instead, she’d swallowed the tirade. Now was not the time. She needed Rome to catch Brady. She knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t think twice about trading barbs, but if she told him what she really thought of him, it was possible he’d tell her to go to hell, just before slamming out the door and hitting the trail.

  He’d done it before.

  So she’d lassoed her rage, donned her poker face. She’d played nice. Sort of. She’d even told him about Frankie. A split-second decision based on their tense reunion. She’d asked Athens not to divulge specifics about her current life--the location of her home, that she owned a saloon, that she had a niece--but Rome adored kids. She figured if he knew a little girl was in danger, he’d go the extra mile to catch Brady. She knew he already had fierce motivation to squash the notorious outlaw, but he also held a grudge against her. She needed to stack the deck in her favor. She’d do whatever she had to do. That included kissing the man who’d crushed her heart.

  She pressed her fingers to her tingling lips, still warm from his hot mouth. She willed her heart to settle. Assured herself that the attraction was purely physical. Some damned chemical reaction. She was only human, and he was exactly as she remembered him, only intensified. More handsome. More cocky. More charismatic.

  Difference was, she no longer craved his adoration and good favor. She was no longer drawn to his larger-than-life edge. Their affair had ignited at a vulnerable time in her life. She’d needed a hero. Someone to admire. Someone who made her feel safe and cherished. Someone who made the future less daunting. She’d pinned her hopes and affections on Rome, and when he’d fallen off his pedestal, she’d panicked. She’d looked to another champion. For a moment in time she’d forgotten everything her daddy had told her about reading and playing people. She’d been impulsive and foolish and suffered the consequences of her poor judgment.

  That moment in time was history.

  She pushed upright, confident she’d recovered her composure. Seeing Rome in person, withstanding a kiss that would have brought the young, needy, and reckless Kat to her knees, was a victory. Yes, he still sparked an almighty hunger, but she’d pretended numbness, held the upper hand. She’d done it. She’d
won! She was no longer a slave to girlish infatuation.

  In hindsight, she realized the majority of their relationship had been based on the pleasures of the flesh. It hadn’t been enough. She was mature enough now to know it would have never been enough.

  After six long, painful years, she could finally chalk Rome Garrett up to her favorite mistake. She could let go of fairy-tale expectations. As long as she kept their physical interaction to a minimum, as long as she retained control of her sexual urges, her heart was safe. All that was left was to banish Brady from her life and the lives of his future victims. Her determination tripled. The sooner they trapped the man, the sooner she could embrace Frankie and a new life. The sooner she could shed the somber persona of Jane Murdock and the baggage of Kat Simmons.

  She curled her fingers into her palms, her pulse skipping with anxious hope. “I’m almost free.”

  Kat sat down to dinner with a hopeful heart, a nervous stomach, and three handsome men. In her younger days she’d been wined and dined plenty. Her social-bug daddy had trained her in the art of conversation while teaching her the finer techniques of gambling. As a result, she felt comfortable socializing with two or twenty people. Men or women. Given her daddy’s profession, which eventually became her own, she had generally found herself surrounded by gentlemen--the term in some circumstances applied loosely.

  As far as social gatherings went, tonight was not unlike any of a hundred nights she’d experienced in her twenty-four years. Trouble was, she’d spent every night of the past two years taking dinner dressed down. It had been a long time since she’d gussied up in feminine finery. She felt out of sorts. Not Kat Simmons--cardsharp. Not Jane Murdock--saloon owner. Someone undefined.

  Athens had requested they leave off talk of Brady until Maderia had retired to the caretaker’s adobe with her husband. Presently, the woman shuffled back and forth between the kitchen and dining area, intent on serving her guests an array of dishes. Spicy scents from the ethnic food and the amber lighting from assorted candelabra created a pleasing atmosphere. Athens and Seth accepted glasses of wine while Kat opted for coffee. She was surprised when Rome followed her lead. She easily recollected his fondness for liquor.