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Running from her past...

Into the arms of an outlaw!

In this Outlaws of the Wild West story, gunslinger Zane Pierce is the only man who can shield brothel madam Glory Winters against a dangerous threat. But safety at the smoldering Zane’s side comes at a price, and soon it’s not just the secrets of her past that have Glory on edge...it’s the realization that she might be losing her heart to an outlaw!

Outlaws of the Wild West miniseries

Book 1—The Innocent and the Outlaw

Book 2—A Marriage Deal with the Outlaw

Book 3—An Outlaw to Protect Her

“Readers will find the sexy adventures of Emmaline and Hunter reason enough to stay up late.”

—RT Book Reviews on The Innocent and the Outlaw

“St. George enlivens the Old West through her characters’ fast-paced story, which sizzles with sensuality and action.”

—RT Book Reviews on A Marriage Deal with the Outlaw

HARPER ST GEORGE was raised in rural Alabama and along the tranquil coast of northwest Florida. It was this setting, filled with stories of the old days, that instilled in her a love of history, romance and adventure. At high school she discovered the romance novel, which combined all those elements into one perfect package. She lives in Atlanta, Georgia, with her husband and two young children. Visit her website: harperstgeorge.com.

Also by Harper St George

Viking Warriors miniseries

Enslaved by the Viking

One Night with the Viking

In Bed with the Viking Warrior

The Viking Warrior’s Bride

Outlaws of the Wild West miniseries

The Innocent and the Outlaw

A Marriage Deal with the Outlaw

An Outlaw to Protect Her

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

An Outlaw to Protect Her

Harper St George


www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07406-3

AN OUTLAW TO PROTECT HER

© 2018 Harper St. George

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Epilogue

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Being the madam of the most notorious brothel in Montana Territory came with certain privileges. Financial security and independence rode high at the top of that list for Glory Winters. In fact, she would go so far as to say that those were the only benefits that really mattered. For they allowed the other freedoms to exist. Without them, she’d never have been able to open her home to women running away from unfortunate situations. Nor would she have had the resources to purchase nearly an eighth of the town of Helena, making her the single most prosperous female landholder.

Unfortunately, those very same privileges that she so enjoyed came with some definite negatives. One of those negatives sat across the table from her now. He grinned, giving her a flash of the gold crown capping his left bicuspid as he tossed back the remainder of his brandy. Glory suppressed a shudder as he swallowed, making the beginnings of what would soon be a double chin wobble as he did so. He brought his handkerchief up and pressed it to his mouth before wiping it across his sweaty forehead.

“Excellent beefsteak as usual, Miss Winters.”

Drawing on the impeccable manners she’d been taught at her mother’s knee, Glory offered him a dazzling smile. He was a guest and she wouldn’t insult him, but making conversation with him made her skin crawl. “Thank you, Mr. Harvey. I’m so pleased you enjoyed your meal.” She intentionally drew out the vowels to make her Southern drawl more pronounced. It never failed to charm even the most cantankerous gentleman. Though she used the term gentleman loosely in the case of William Harvey. The only thing noble about him was his dress. He was a snake in the trimmings of probably the most expensive suit she’d ever seen on a man. For a town that had made millionaires out of humble miners, that was saying a lot.

“You’ve done quite well for yourself here.” He sat back in the chair, leather creaking as he laced his hands over his lap.

Glory kept her smile in place. The words hung heavy in the air between them, filling it with silent tension broken only by the hushed conversation at one of the other tables across the dining room. Harvey always had something up his sleeve. She recognized this as the moment before he would strike and she tried to prepare herself for how bad the bite would be. One thing she had learned in her years here was to never underestimate the greed of men, especially when they saw a woman who had something they wanted.

Harvey wasn’t the first to want a stake in her business. He wouldn’t be the last.

“You’re too kind,” she said.

“And you’re too humble. I remember when this place was little more than bare floorboards and straw mattresses.”

She tried not to wince. Victoria House had never been quite that shoddy. When she’d arrived with her dear friend Able, the place had been a neglected mansion that had seen better days, but it certainly hadn’t been a hovel. They had slowly transformed it into the grand club it was today. She’d hired a proper chef, and they had several dining rooms and parlors where gentlemen could come to relax surrounded by opulence. There were plenty of saloons down the road where they could go to get a whiskey for half the cost with cheaper buy-ins for poker and faro, but they came to Victoria House because they liked the atmosphere. The dust of sophistication that coated the mansion fed their need for luxury.

These men had pulled gold, silver and copper from the earth to make themselves wealthier than they’d ever dreamed possible. The social salons of New York and London might not welcome their new money, but Glory was happy to give them a taste of that same opulence right here in Helena. Even her gowns came straight from Paris. The men were more than willing to hand over a portion of their riches for a taste of that life.

“Well, I’ve always known the value of a little hard work. As do you.” She wasn’t above pouring on a little flattery.

He inclined his head as if it were quite the task to lord over the men who did the backbreaking work of maintaining his gold mines. “It’d be a shame to see all of this hard work go to waste.” He raised a hand and indicated the room with its silk wall coverings, Persian rugs and brass finishings.

Ah, and there it was. He was after her wealth. Now to figure out his game before he could lower the trap. She’d perfected her poker face years ago, so she managed not to reveal so much as a flicker of her lashes. “Hard work rarely goes to waste.”

His smile faded, replaced by cold calculation. “You are aware that statehood is just around the corner for our humble little territory? Helena is in the running for state capital. Thanks to the railroad, nice Christian folks are moving here and they don’t want to see an establishment such as this in our midst. Surely you can see the benefit of having a friend like me.”

Rumors were that Harvey would be elected to the legislature; it was the main reason she tolerated his odious presence. She couldn’t afford to alienate anyone with political clout. “But I thought we were friends,” she countered.

He shrugged, his cold gaze sliding over her exposed shoulders and down farther in a slow glide that made her want to scrub away the filth he’d left behind. “We could be closer, Miss Winters. Much closer. I could help you keep everything you’ve worked for, and you could help me.”

She didn’t even want to entertain the thought of what helping him would entail. “I think the fine people of Helena will come to understand how much good I do for the town. My taxes and personal donations have contributed to the school that was recently built.”

He laughed. “Money only goes so far. The reputation and honor of our fair city is at stake, particularly when it comes time to vote for statehood. Why, a notorious place such as this might not be able to exist in a law-abiding state.”

“Then the fate of Victoria House is sealed either way,” she said with a shrug of her shoulder.

“Ah, but I have friends, Miss Winters. And soon I’ll have influence. If we were...friends...I could extend that influence to you.” He licked his lips, leaving them wet and shining in the light of the candle flickering on the table between them.

She swallowed past the bile that threatened to rise in the back of her throat, and opened her mouth to tell him in her sweetest voice that no way in hell would she ever be that sort of friend to him. Because she was a madam, men often assumed incorrectly that she was also for sale and she had to set them straight. Thankfully, Able intervened before she said something foolish and made an enemy they didn’t need.

“Miss Winters.” His large frame took up nearly the entire doorway of the dining room. “You’re needed upstairs.”

He had a sixth sense when it came to saving her. It had been that way ever since they escaped together twelve years earlier. She simply wouldn’t have made it out of that house in the South Carolina low country all the way to Helena had he not almost literally carried her the entire way.

“Excuse me, Mr. Harvey. Duty calls. It’s been a pleasure.” She rose and nearly gasped audibly when the man leaned forward and grabbed her wrist. No one ever touched her. From the corner of her eye, she saw Able step into the room, ready if he was needed.

“Think about what I’ve said, Glory. You may not have that long to make up your mind,” Harvey said. His eyes flashed with cruelty as he let her go just as Able came to a stop next to his chair.

“Is that a threat?” She bit the words out through clenched teeth.

“Not at all.” He grinned, but it wasn’t the least bit friendly. “Merely an observation of things to come.”

“Good evening, Mr. Harvey.” Without another word—as much as she hated him and all he stood for, she wasn’t willing to make Harvey an enemy—she strode out of the room with Able close behind her.

“Thank you for intervening,” she whispered once they’d walked far enough down the hallway to not be overheard.

Able made a grumbling noise in the back of his throat. “I’ve never liked that man. Don’t trust him.”

“You and me both.” She opened the door leading to the servants’ quarters in the back of the house and paused to make sure no one followed them. Closing the door behind them after Able had stepped inside, she said, “He wants Victoria House.”

Able drew in a sharp breath through his nose. “He won’t get it.” The light of the electric wall sconce reflected off his medium-brown skin, revealing a brow that was smooth and not furrowed in worry. His dark eyes were calm. Quiet and sensible, he’d become the barometer against which she measured the scope of their problems. There wouldn’t be reason to worry until he was worried.

Nodding her agreement, she said, “It’s nothing we haven’t faced before.” A couple of years ago they’d faced a similar threat, only this one had been a group of investors looking to purchase the place from her at a value far below market. Little had they known that Able was part owner and any decision she made would have to be corroborated by him. Once they’d found out they’d resorted to force instead of seduction. In the end, they’d dealt with those men and she had confidence that Harvey could be handled as well.

“Is everything else going well?” she asked.

“Fine. We’re a little busier because of the faro tournament across the road, but everyone is behaving themselves.”

“In that case, I’ll go get a little work done in my study and give Harvey some time to leave. Let me know if I’m needed.” Able agreed, and Glory took the back stairs up to her study on the mansion’s third floor. The top floor was private. Her apartment was attached to her study and the other ladies who lived at Victoria House full-time had rooms there. It wasn’t decorated quite as ostentatiously as the rest of the house. The wall color was a soft cream with a blue-and-gold runner softening her steps in the hallway. Each door boasted a wreath or some other decorative trinket that reflected the resident’s personality. In short, this floor felt like home and was a respite from the bustle of the rest of the house.

Up here the William Harveys of the world felt far away. Glory let out a breath, already anticipating the nice long soak in her bathtub she’d take when the evening was over. It seemed like the nights were getting longer, or maybe she was simply getting older. She’d be thirty in a couple of years, which didn’t seem particularly old, but this wasn’t where she’d imagined herself at this point. Life was strange in that way. Nothing ever seemed to happen the way she meant for it to happen, but she’d learned that it could still be good. She had about a million things to be thankful for, not the least of which were security and independence. It was more than she’d had a decade ago.

She was smiling when she approached her study, but the smile faltered when she realized that the door wasn’t latched. A gentle nudge revealed that her assistant’s desk sat empty. Glory turned on the wall sconce to reveal that no one was in the antechamber at all. How odd. Charlotte, her assistant, always closed up when she finished her work for the evening. A stack of correspondence ready to post the next morning sat on the corner of Charlotte’s small desk, exactly as she’d left them. It was possible that Charlotte had forgotten to lock up, but a strange sense of foreboding made her stomach tumble.

Glory took in a deep breath, consciously avoiding looking across the room at the door that led to her study. Glory was the only person with a key to that door. If it was open then it meant that someone had broken in and she’d have to face that her sanctuary wasn’t really a sanctuary at all. But she was being silly. Of course it was locked. To prove it to herself she put her hand into the hidden pocket of her skirt and wrapped her fingers around the warm metal of the key. It was still safely with her. Charlotte had simply forgotten to close the door to the hallway.

Her heart pounding, she turned toward her door. It was mercifully closed. An exhale of relief left her feeling deflated and weak. She put a hand on the corner of Charlotte’s desk to keep her balance. Even after all these years she was wary of any irregularity. She knew all too well how quickly life could come crashing down with very little warning.

There was no light coming from beneath her door and no sound came from within her study. No one had been inside. She knew that, but her heart resumed its pounding as she approached the door with her key in hand. The cool metal of the latch chilled her palm and she gave it a quick turn to test the lock. Her key held useless in her other hand, the door latch made a clicking sound as it unlatched. She gave a little push and the door creaked, swinging open to reveal the interior of her office. Moonlight flooded in through the windows facing the street, spilling onto the carpeted floor. No one was inside, but nevertheless she moved forward cautiously.

As soon as her feet crossed the threshold she saw it. It was a square piece of parchment sitting in the middle of her tidy desk, and it seemed to have a nearly ethereal glow in the moonlight. It had not been there when she’d left earlier in the evening.

Turning on the electric sconce on the wall didn’t help. The white parchment lost its glow, but it didn’t seem any less dangerous. It hadn’t been sent by post. There was no envelope, no markings at all. She crossed to her desk, watching the note as if it were a living thing that could jump out and grab her at any moment. Blood pounded through her head, filling her ears with its roar. Somehow her life would change when she read that letter. She just knew it. Good things rarely came along unexpectedly.

Her fingers trembled when she reached for it. The stiff paper was cool under her touch, barely crinkling as she sucked in a deep breath and flipped it open. The first five words on the page jumped out at her, sending a shard of terror straight through her heart.

I know who you are.

Chapter Two

Zane Pierce tossed back the last of the whiskey in his tumbler and rose from his stool at the bar. The woman tending the bar gave him a smile as she picked up the glass and wiped the mahogany beneath it to a shine. “Fancy some company later tonight?”

Penelope was naturally pretty in a quiet way that wasn’t very outrageous. Even with the kohl lining her eyes and her reddened lips, she gave off an air that was almost wholesome. As if she could just as easily be teaching Sunday school at a church across town instead of working at Victoria House. Some men seemed to like that. Since Zane had been around for the past week, he’d noticed a few of the patrons asking to take her upstairs, but she’d turned them all down. Maybe she didn’t “work upstairs,” the code he’d learned referred to the prostitutes who worked on the second floor. Hell, he might’ve even been interested at one time.

He glanced across the length of the dining room to the door through which Glory had recently disappeared. She’d made it clear when she’d allowed him to have a room a week ago that taking refuge in Victoria House meant that her women were off-limits. The castration that would result probably wasn’t worth it, he mused.

“I don’t think Miss Winters would appreciate that.” That was only part of the reason. In reality it was a gentle way to let Penelope down, because the only woman he was interested in was Glory. The truth was that Glory Winters was the only woman who’d caught his interest in a long time.

They’d known each other for a couple of years now and had spent that entire time circling each other. He could probably count on one hand the times they’d spoken. He might’ve thought she wasn’t interested in him except that he heard the way she caught her breath when he passed too close. He caught the looks she flashed his way when she thought he couldn’t see her.

One night earlier in the week he’d caught her staring at him in the lounge at Victoria House. He’d been sitting at the bar drinking a whiskey before returning to his room for the night. She’d been standing just outside the doorway at an angle that should’ve obscured her from view. He only saw her because the mirror above the bar had caught her reflection just right. She’d stood there for a solid two minutes staring at him with a look that he could only describe as pure longing on her face. When he’d turned to talk to her she’d taken off running. He hadn’t followed her because he’d hoped to give her time to come to him.

“Oh.” Penelope nibbled her lip and offered him a shy smile. “I didn’t mean that I’d charge you anything. I don’t work upstairs.”

Something about the woman’s softly worded admission tugged at him. For the first time he found himself wondering what life was like for the women here. Did Penelope want to be a farmer’s wife or was she happy at Victoria House? Was she lonely? He lowered his voice to soften his rejection. “Maybe some other time after I’ve moved out.”

Which could be as early as tomorrow since their hunt for Buck Derringer was over. The search had consumed them for the past few years. Zane had been working on a ranch down in Texas owned by his friend Castillo’s grandfather. Derringer had come around offering improved ranching methods and expertise, and pretty soon he’d swindled Castillo’s grandfather out of his life savings. When Castillo had tried to collect, Derringer and his son, Bennett, had blown through the ranch one night, killing Castillo’s grandfather and leaving destruction. The ranch had burned to the ground. The scar Zane carried on his face was a lifetime reminder of that horrible night. Zane had vowed to help his friend get revenge.

They’d been joined by Castillo’s half brother, Hunter, and had soon become known as the Reyes Brothers. After years of searching from Texas to Montana Territory, Derringer had found them in Helena, Hunter’s hometown. Last week they’d been in a shoot-out with Derringer’s son and killed him, and Derringer had gone into hiding again. Two days ago Derringer had come out of nowhere, shooting at Castillo from an alley. He’d been wounded, but Zane had managed to come to his aid and together they’d killed the bastard.

The years of searching were over, but Zane wasn’t ready to leave Victoria House just yet. He’d taken a room here to root out Derringer and while their enemy had fallen, Zane hadn’t moved one step closer in uncovering the mystery of the brothel’s madam. No one was willing to talk much about the madam or her past. It was as infuriating as it was intriguing.

Penelope gave him a smile and a disappointed shrug before moving on to help another customer, while Zane turned back to the dining room. William Harvey had stood from the table he’d occupied with Glory and was making his way out of the room. Zane couldn’t stop himself from glaring. He’d nearly come off his stool when Harvey had grabbed Glory. He’d have gone over to stop the son of a bitch from touching her if Able hadn’t intervened.

Zane followed behind Harvey to the front door, making sure the man didn’t try to find her. He had no idea what they’d been talking about, but it had been apparent that she had left their conversation upset. Harvey stopped to talk with a man Zane recognized as a banker and frequent guest of the house, so Zane paused in the shadows, unwilling to let Harvey out of his sight as long as the man was in the house. After a few minutes, Harvey said his goodbyes, retrieved his hat from the doorman and left.

Zane breathed a sigh of relief and made his way to the servants’ hall and out the back door. Some time ago Glory had purchased the property that adjoined Victoria House in the back. It had been a boardinghouse hastily built to accommodate the influx of miners. At some point it had fallen into disrepair, so she’d restored it. The second floor was now a temporary home for women who needed it. Women who were abused or abandoned and often had nowhere else to go. The first floor had a set of apartments occupied by Able and his wife on one side, while the other side had been turned into a makeshift clinic for her ladies that he’d heard was better equipped than the town’s hospital.

That’s where he was headed now. They’d taken Castillo there because the hospital’s doctor was a known drunk. He had a reputation for killing as many as he saved, and the gang hadn’t been willing to take the chance on their leader’s life. Castillo was still there recovering from his gunshot wound, and they needed to discuss what to do next. His boots clicked on the cobblestones of the courtyard and a few lanterns lit his way across the fenced-in enclosure. The second-and third-floor windows of Victoria House were boarded over with decorative shutters to preserve privacy. A few of the ladies who weren’t working were taking advantage of that privacy and the mild summer night to play a game of dice.

“Evening, ladies.” He gave them a nod as he passed. They returned his greeting and a few watched him with interest. None of them had approached him in the entire time he’d been in residence. He’d discovered that, due to his size and the nasty scar that covered part of his face, women tended to be afraid of him. Penelope had probably only warmed up to him because he’d had a drink at her bar each night before going to bed and maybe she’d realized he was harmless. He almost laughed at the description. Well, harmless for a wanted outlaw.

A few minutes later Zane walked into Castillo’s room, where Castillo’s new wife, Caroline, was busy fussing over him. She fluffed Castillo’s pillow and stroked his cheek as his friend looked up at her, clearly besotted. The fool. Zane had to stop himself from shaking his head. He’d learned his lesson about women and love with Christine. Even the thought of her made his scar tingle.

Although Zane hadn’t let his feelings be known about the matter, he was of the opinion that Castillo would’ve been paying more attention to his surroundings on the morning he was shot had Caroline not been with him. He might’ve noticed Derringer sooner. Instead, Derringer had gotten the best of him and left him with a bullet wound in his abdomen. Caroline, who was studying to be a physician, had stitched him up. Though Castillo seemed to be on the mend, they weren’t out of the woods yet as infection could seep in at any time. It just proved the point that men like them had no business with women. Well, not for more than a casual affair. Anything more intense would be too risky.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, jarring the couple apart.

“Like I got shot in the gut,” Castillo said in his slightly accented English. “But I’ll live thanks to the doc here.”

Caroline grinned and brushed back a strand of black hair that had fallen across his forehead. “Not a doctor yet, but soon.”

She was being too modest. She’d spent her childhood apprenticing under her father, and Zane had seen firsthand how efficiently she’d worked on Castillo. She knew what she was doing. “We’re thankful you were here,” Zane said, walking farther into the room to stand with a hip leaned against a bureau.

Hunter sat in a chair beside the bed. “Caroline says he’ll be stable enough that we can move him to the town house in the morning.”

Zane nodded his agreement. The town house was more secure, and they’d be able to post their men around it. So far it seemed that Derringer had been alone and no one would come to avenge his death, but they needed to take precautions just to be sure. Not to mention the fact that the clinic was essentially attached to the brothel. The Jameson name and wealth could only protect Caroline’s reputation for so long. If she had any hope of showing her face in polite society again, they needed to get her away from Victoria House soon.

“Let’s move him before dawn then,” Zane said. “Less people around to worry about.”

As they made plans for moving Castillo, Zane realized that this really would be his last night in Victoria House. His last night close to Glory. His last chance to explore the strange attraction between them. But she’d been so careful to never let him get close, he didn’t know how he was going to make that happen. She never let anyone get too close. As far as he could tell, Able was the only one she trusted. At first, he’d been able to respect that. He knew how it felt to keep others at a distance. He’d done it himself most of his life. But staying at Victoria House for the past week had made him want things with her that were better left unexplored.

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