A shudder rippled through Billy as he retrieved his hat and dusted it off, too faint to be noted by anyone but Esmerelda. He was spared from answering by Sadie, who bounded out of the wagon and began to sniff at Jasper’s feet.

“Still got that mangy old mutt of mine, I see,” Jasper said, nudging her away with the toe of his boot. “The bitch is too old to hunt or breed. I still don’t know why you stopped me from shootin‘ her that time.”

“Because I didn’t want to have to kill you,” Billy replied darkly.

As the two men stood glowering at each other, toe-to-toe and nose-to-nose, it was Virgil’s turn to step in and avert a potential altercation. “Our little brother here has been one very busy feller,” he said, turning to one of the two men lurking behind them. “Enos, where’s that paper I gave you for safekeeping?”

Beneath his straggly hair and ragged yellow whiskers, Enos looked washed out, like a smeared charcoal draft of his older brothers. He blinked his red-rimmed eyes, shook his head, and jerked a thumb toward the nearly identical man who slumped next to him. “W-w-weren’t mine to keep. No, ”s-siree. You give it to Sam.“

Sam looked blank for a moment, then fished a folded square of paper from his dusty chaps. He handed it to Enos who handed it to Jasper who handed it to Virgil.

Virgil shook it open with all the pomp of a governor making a formal declaration. Even from where she stood, Esmerelda recognized the sketch in his hand. She’d studied it with her eyes a thousand times, traced it with her finger until it haunted her every dream.

It was the poster branding Billy Darling a wanted man.

Virgil studied the poster, then scowled down at Billy. “I had hoped for better, son. I’m disappointed in you. What would Ma say?”

At the mention of their mother, all the brothers except Billy sighed in unison, then drew off their hats and pressed them over their hearts.

After a moment of respectful silence, Virgil slapped his hat back on and winked at Jasper. “Ah, who cares what Ma would say? I say it took him too dadburned long to get his picture in the family album.”

“Amen!” the others chorused, surrounding their prodigal brother for yet another round of hugs and backslapping.

When Esmerelda realized they were congratulating Billy for being wanted for murder, she was appalled by their bloodthirstiness. But she was even more appalled by the cocky grin Billy wore as he accepted their gruff accolades. It chilled her to realize how much trust she had placed in a man who was little more than a stranger to her. As he basked in his brothers’ fellowship, she recoiled without realizing it, taking several steps backward.

The motion caught Jasper’s eye. As his gaze traveled from her scuffed kid boots to her bound hands to her tousled hair, a smile slowly spread across his handsome face. “What’s this, Billy? You bring us a present?”

With his clean-shaven jaw and lanky grace, Jasper resembled Billy more than any of his brothers. His lips had been cut from the same sensual mold, but his crooked grin was a sinister shadow of Billy’s smile.

Esmerelda took another step backward, alarmed by the sadistic glint in his eyes. As her gaze traveled between the two men—so alike, yet so different—she realized that what she’d mistaken for cruelty in Billy’s eyes was nothing more than wariness. A wariness that deepened in their narrowed depths as he deliberately stepped in front of Jasper and swaggered over to her.

He snaked one arm around her waist and drew her against him. When she squirmed in protest, he snuggled the top of her head beneath his chin. “Sorry, boys, but this one’s all mine. I thought I’d have a little fun with her, then sell her to the Comancheros for a profit.”

An involuntary shudder coursed down Esmerelda’s spine. Even she had heard of the Comancheros—renegade bands of Comanches, Mexicans, and outlaws who traded guns, liquor, and women up and down the Mexican border. An unspeakable fate awaited any woman who fell into their brutal hands.

Billy must have felt her quiver, because he gave her waist a hard squeeze. She might have been more comforted if she’d known whether it was intended to restrain or reassure. His own muscles were as taut as a rope stretched to the point of fraying.

“Aw, hell, Billy, don’t be so selfish,” Jasper whined. His greedy gaze dropped to her bosom. Although her basque was hooked all the way to her chin, Esmerelda felt even more exposed than she had when Billy’s knuckles had grazed the swell of her naked breast. "She's a little mite, but there’s more than enough to go around.”

Virgil’s tongue flicked out to wet his lips. "Jasper's right. I ain’t had me a woman in nigh on a week.”

“She shore is a p-purty little thing,” Enos shyly added.

Sam nodded. “I bet she smells real nice.”

Billy kept his voice soft and amiable. “If you re inclined to scrap over a woman, Samuel, then we will. But I’d have thought you’d have grown attached to that ear I left you with the last time we scrapped.”

Ducking his head to hide a pout, Sam tugged his hat down over his ears. Or what was left of them. The gag smothered Esmerelda’s horrified gasp.

Virgil and Jasper weren’t so easily discouraged. They exchanged a sly glance, then began to ease away from each other, plainly intending to circle around and flank them.

Tension charged the air, making Esmerelda’s nape tingle with apprehension. Her stomach churned with dread at the thought of their foul breath in her face and their filthy hands on her body. Billy no longer had to restrain her. She pressed herself against his lean, muscular body, instinctively seeking refuge.

“Don’t pay him no mind, Sam,” Jasper said, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his chaps. “Billy’s just bein‘ stingy. He always was a mama’s boy.”

Billy’s good-natured laugh masked the sound of his pistol sliding out of its holster. When it appeared in his hand, all four of his brothers stumbled backward, their hands on the grips of their own pistols. But not one of them dared to draw.

A strange thrill of exhilaration shot through Esmerelda’s veins as she realized that Billy wasn’t afraid of his brothers. He never had been. He was only afraid for her.

Her discovery didn’t lessen the shock of his pistol barrel grazing her temple. Her breath caught in her throat as Billy dragged the weapon down her cheek, then used the muzzle to tenderly tip her chin up so he could caress the vulnerable skin beneath her jaw. The cool, hard metal provided a stark contrast to the tensile heat of his hips pressed against her backside.

He slid the barrel down her throat and between her breasts, marking his territory, branding her as his own before his brothers and all the world.

He waited until he had every ounce of their slack-jawed attention before gently drawling, “You’re right about one thing, Jasper. I never did like to share what was mine.”

Esmerelda shivered. With the smoky rasp of his voice in her ear and the barrel of his pistol cradled between her breasts, it was nearly impossible to remember that he was only bluffing. Wasn’t he?

Virgil was the first one to raise his hands in surrender. Sam and Enos immediately followed suit. Only Jasper kept his hand hovering near his holster.

Billy ignored him. “If you gentlemen will be kind enough to excuse us, I believe the lady and I will retire to the grove of mesquite on top of that bluff for a spell. We would appreciate a little privacy.” He accented his request by easing her hair aside and nuzzling her throat with his lips; the fresh shock of his warm, moist mouth against her skin made her knees buckle.

Taking advantage of her weakness, he began to waltz her backward, the pistol still gripped in his hand. “Oh, and Jasper, I’d be much obliged if you could fetch my mare. Your poor shooting gave her an awful fright.”

Jasper’s lips twitched in a feral snarl, but his hand remained frozen over his gun.

Virgil gave him a shove. “You heard the man, Jasper. Go fetch his horse.”

Jasper shook off his brother’s hand, then went plunging into the darkness, a vicious oath escaping his lips. Only then did Billy holster his gun. Enos and Sam slumped in relief.

As they passed the buckboard, Billy reached into the bed of the wagon with his free hand and snagged a bedroll.

Virgil rested his balled fists on his hips. “If you need a hand with her, just give a holler. We’d be more than obliged to help.”

“That’s a right kindly offer, but I do believe I can manage.”

As he dragged her up the rise toward the mesquite grove on top of the bluff, Billy’s grip was so implacable that Esmerelda couldn’t help kicking her feet and choking out a whimper of protest. Had he rescued her or betrayed her? Was he the same man who had caught her when she swooned and tenderly cradled her in his arms, or a ruthless stranger who had every intention of carrying out his implied threat?

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Before they could reach the tenuous privacy of the mesquites, Billy had a hellcat in his arms. Even with her hands bound, Esmerelda managed to twist around and club him in the chest. Her feet beat a savage tattoo against his shins. He cast a frantic glance backward to make sure they were out of his brothers’ sight before hefting her over his shoulder where he hoped she could do less harm.

Her linked fists slammed into his kidney, making him bite off a heartfelt oath. He anchored her bottom with one hand, unfurled the bedroll with the other, then dumped her unceremoniously on top of the coarse woolen blanket.

Billy followed her down, thinking only to bury his laughter in the sweet-smelling spill of her hair. “That was quite a performance, honey. I doubt Sagebrush Sally down at the old Divine Theater in Santa Fe could have done any finer.”

When her passionate squirming failed to subside, he lifted his head. His grin slowly faded as he realized her struggles were genuine—as genuine as the panic gleaming in her eyes.

“Aw, hell,” he breathed. He’d spent too much of his life raging at his own helplessness not to recognize the signs in someone else.

“Hang on, sweetheart. Just hang on,” he murmured as he reached around and began to tear at the knot binding Esmerelda’s wrists.

As soon as she was free, she swung on him, her fist connecting soundly with his jaw. He took one or two of her clumsy blows, figuring she owed him that much, before recapturing her slender wrists in one of his hands and pinning them above her head.

He allowed her to buck and heave until she realized she wasn’t going anywhere with six feet two inches of well-muscled male lying on top of her. Only then did her struggles subside. Only then did her eyes focus, glaring furiously at him over the gag.

Wisely keeping his fingers out of biting range, he loosened the bandanna and tugged the damp handkerchief from her mouth. Her breath escaped in a furious sob. Billy nearly smiled, pleased somehow that even now, she was more riled than afraid.

“How dare you take such frightful liberties with my person?” she hissed, bright enough even in a temper to realize that his brothers might very well be lurking just below the bluff, their ears pricked to hear their every word.

“I didn’t have any choice,” he hissed back. “I had to stake my claim on you before one of my brothers decided to.”

“Why couldn’t you simply explain to them that you were in my employ?”

He snorted. “Trust me. They wouldn’t have been impressed. The very idea of one of their own working for a woman would have only made them itch to put her in her place.”

“Which is?”

Billy briefly considered glossing over the truth, but decided it would do her far more harm to underestimate his brothers than to think the worst of him. He met her eyes squarely. “Flat on her back with her skirts up and her drawers down.”

Esmerelda’s mouth fell open, then snapped shut, as if she’d suddenly realized how perilously close she was to that exact posture. Her body quivered beneath his, but her whisper was steady. “Your brothers may be afraid of you, Mr. Darling, but I, most certainly, am not.”

Sobered by her lie, Billy said, “I never wanted you to be. And I had no choice but to make my brothers afraid of me. From the moment I was born, they were bigger than me, stronger than me, and meaner than me. If I wanted to survive, I had to prove I was smarter, crazier, and a better shot.”

“Is that why you shot off your own brother’s ear?”

Billy frowned, baffled by her assumption. “I never shot off anybody’s ear. I was only ten the last time Samuel and I scrapped.” At her relieved sigh, his frown curled into a wicked grin. “I bit it off.”