Outlaw's Honor

“The wrong woman could get you killed.”

He nodded as he wiped up the broken glass and replaced the drink he’d spilled. “She sounds dangerous. But exciting. You’re sure she’s that wrong for me?”

Her dark eyes locked with his. “Positive.”

He placed the new drink on her tray and she started to turn away. “You do know that not all Romani are fortune tellers or—” she hesitated a moment “—thieves.”

“So I shouldn’t put much stock in what you read in my palm.”

“Oh, that was all true. Didn’t I tell you? My grandmother had the sight. It runs in my family.” With that she took her tray of drinks and left.

He watched her go, his heart still pounding. She’d tried to warn him about her. He almost laughed out loud. He’d been doing the same thing himself. And yet, he found himself wanting her more than his next breath.

Glancing down at his palm, he touched the skin where she had only moments before and told himself she was right. He’d be a fool to take this any further.

So why did he feel filled with expectation and excitement? He’d never been one to take risky chances. Until now. He was completely enthralled by her. He wanted to know this woman in every sense of the word—no matter how dangerous it was.

* * *

THEY’D BEEN ABOUT to close for the night when the two men came in. Darby felt his stomach drop. Hadn’t he been expecting this? If not, he should have.

He glanced behind the bar where Mariah was cleaning up the last of the glasses. She looked up at the sound of the door. Her expression mirrored his own. Trouble had just walked through the door. The question was, though, had she—unlike him—known it was coming?

Her gaze shot to him and he thought he saw something in it... Oh hell. He felt his heart drop. This was her doing. She was finally going to take back her bracelet—one way or another.

How foolish of him to think that she wouldn’t change the unwritten rules of this challenge and bring in reinforcements.

The men were scruffy-looking, the kind he often saw hitchhiking through the state. They moved through the bar slowly, calculating every move. Darby swore under his breath. He should have closed fifteen minutes ago. But Mariah had distracted him. Now he thought he knew why.

The second man closed the door behind him and locked it as the first moved to the bar and pulled a gun. He pointed it at Mariah.

Darby’s heart began to pound. He’d been hesitant to keep a gun behind the bar. That had always seemed like a bad idea before. Instead, he kept a baseball bat where he could get to it. He’d thought the biggest worry he would have was breaking up a bar fight.