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Authors: Emily Krokosz

BOOK: Gold Dust
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“Helloooo!” warbled a feminine voice. A redheaded, scarlet-gowned ambassador from the neighboring campsite sauntered out of
the trees. Two of her professional sisters followed close behind. “Hello there! We saw you sitting over here all by yourself,
and you looked very lonely.”

“Maudie said maybe you was too shy to join the party,” another said. Her gown was purple silk. Feathers of the same color
adorned her black, black hair—hair black as Katy’s, but without the glimmer and shine.

“So we thought we’d take a little break from the crowd and be neighborly,” a silver-blond nymph giggled. She was petite, but
her curves were anything but diminutive. Jonah couldn’t help but stare at the breasts that swelled above her corset. They
remained confined surely in defiance of every law of physics. “I’m Maude,” she giggled again. “And this is Cecily and Rhona.
Are you going to Dawson, too?”

Jonah controlled the impulse to quip that no, he wasn’t going to Dawson; he was headed to South America by way of the Klondike.
Andy had paused in brushing one of the pack-horses and was giving the women a cold stare. Across the campsite, looking like
a bastion of propriety in comparison to the three colorful visitors, Katy scowled darkly.

The scowl was all the inspiration Jonah needed. He smiled wickedly. “Welcome, ladies. Have a seat. Andy, break out the whiskey
that Patrick left with us last night.”

Katy’s scowl grew even darker, and Jonah’s grin widened. Katy was always entertaining when she was irked. Jonah got to his
feet and made a gentlemanly bow, as if he were in a ballroom in Chicago instead of in an alpine meadow on an Alaskan mountainside.
He gestured in Katy’s direction.

“Ladies, this is my sister Katy. And I’m Jonah. We’re very pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Your sister?” Maude giggled. It appeared that the woman couldn’t open her mouth without giggling. “Really?”

Cecily and Rhona sized up Katy like cats eyeing another feline who had strayed into their territory. Katy eyed them right
back. A slow smile spread across her face that might have scared Jonah if he had been its target.

Rhona placed a hand on a seductively cocked, generously proportioned hip. Her eyes flashed a challenge toward Katy. “Travelin’
along with your brother, are ya, honey? Better keep close watch on him, or some lonely lady will simply swoop down and carry
him off—a delicious hunk of man like him.” She turned toward Jonah, her hips rotating as she moved. “Speaking of lonely, handsome.
Must be downright dreary on the trail with just a sister for company. You should come over to our camp and get acquainted.”

“Yeah,” Maude breathed. “Come over later, when it’s not so crowded.” She insinuated herself between Rhona and her prey. “Agent
like you deserves special, special attention, you know?” Giggling, she brushed against him, in one brief, efficient moment
stroking him with every inch of the merchandise from her breasts to her hips. Andy chose that moment to break in, Patrick’s
bottle of Irish whiskey in his hands.

“We’ve only got two cups,” the boy announced tersely.

“Oh look!” Cecily exclaimed. “Isn’t he cute! Who’re you, sweetie?”

“How old are you, sweetcheeks?” Maude tittered.

Andy’s brows lowered as he backed away.

“I’ll bet he’s old enough,” Rhona crooned.

Cecily and Maude cut off poor Andy’s retreat and fluttered around him like perfumed butterflies. Rhona stayed draped over
Jonah as though she couldn’t stand on her feet without his support. The heavy musk of her perfume rose in waves on the warmth
of her body. The odor polluted the fresh night air. Jonah had second thoughts about inviting the attention of
these female predators when he saw Katy rise to her feet with the grace of a cobra about to strike.

“Leave Andy alone.” Her voice was low, but it cut through the women’s cooing and giggling like a knife.

“Andy?” Cecily purred to the boy. “Is that your name, love? Andy?”

Andy twisted out of the arms that tried to entice him.

“Leave him alone,” Katy warned.

She bristled like a kitten, Jonah noted with appreciation. A lion kitten. There was nothing tame or domestic about the look
she shot him. “You can get your claws out of that one, too,” she told Rhona. “The kid’s too young, and that one’s too ignorant
to know any better.”

Ignorant, was he? Jonah had been about to send the professional ladies on their way when Katy had made that scathing comment.
He decided to let the bossy little curmudgeon fight it out on her own.

“Ease off, sister girl.” Rhona slid Katy a feline glance. “Maybe the gents here are in the market for a little entertainment.”
She gave a velvety laugh. “Better they get it from us than start looking at you for it, eh?”

“They’re not in the market for what you
ladies
are selling!” Katy marched over to Rhona and peeled her off her prey. “You have enough jackasses in your camp without raiding
mine for more.”

“Well I don’t expect you have your brand on these particular jackasses, honey.” Rhona smiled and arched a painted brow. “But
I’d be willing to check this one’s rump, just to be sure.”

Jonah tried hard not to laugh at the expression on Katy’s face. A flash of her eyes let him know he was in deep trouble. “If
this jackass wants to drop his pants for you, he’s a lot greener than I thought. But leave the boy alone. He’s too young to
get his pocket picked while getting a dose of the pox.”

“Not from me he wouldn’t get the pox!” Maude said, then giggled.

“And if I put my hand in a man’s pocket, sister girl, it’s not to get at his wallet.” Rhona swaggered toward Katy with swaying
hips and a lethally contemptuous expression.

Katy met her with a look every bit as dire. “Why don’t you and your friends just take your high-toned bustles back to your
own camp.”

Jonah almost laughed at Katy’s ferocity. She obviously was a pro in this kind of catfight.

Andy had managed to squirm out of the tender grasp of Cecily and Maude. “Don’t trouble on my account, Miss Katy. I… I can
take care of myself.”

“You see?” Rhona purred. “The boy wants to make up his own mind. And the man…?” She turned toward Jonah and appealed to him
with a dramatic lift of her shoulder. “You let your sister ride herd on you, handsome?”

Jonah just smiled. “Sister Katy cracks a mean whip. I wouldn’t cross her if I were you.”

“Well then,” Rhona sighed, “we’ll leave you to your sister’s lively company.” Her eyes traveled up and down his body. “Don’t
forget the invite if you get lonely.”

Maude blew a kiss toward Andy, who, if possible, blushed an even brighter red, and then smacked loudly in Jonah’s direction.
Cecily pouted her lips into a long-distance kiss and waved to Jonah sorrowfully. Jonah almost regretted them going. Katy was
entertaining to watch when she was annoyed. He nearly laughed as she looked him up and down in the same manner Rhona had,
as if trying to discover what the sporting woman had seen in him.

“I can’t believe you let that trollop hang all over you like some kind of hungry suckerfish!” she hissed. “Don’t you city
boys know anything about whores?”

“I’ve had my share of lessons,” Jonah said with a smile, “for an ignorant jackass, that is.”

“Well it didn’t teach you much, did it? Don’t you know what those women wanted?”

Jonah shrugged innocently. “They wanted me?”

“Hah! Men! Always ready to believe that women are ready to swoon at their feet for the sake of your smile!”

“Well,” Jonah said ingenuously, “I did get the impression they were after more than a smile.”

“You bet they were, greenhorn. They were after anything they could steal, and I don’t mean your precious reputation! And you!”
She whirled on Andy, who jumped back at her sudden attack. “You of all people ought to know to stay away from those women.
They’ll feed you liquor and who knows what else and get your mind so twisted around you won’t know if you’re coming or going.”

Andy studied the ground. “Yes’m. I don’t cotton much to whores. My ma was one, and I run with the pack when I was a kid, but
I ain’t never had ‘em come at me like turkey buzzards at a dead mouse.”

“As long as you’re working for us, you keep away from that flock of turkey buzzards.”

“Yes’m. You want this whiskey now?” He held out the bottle he’d been sent to fetch.

“Put it back in the tent.”

“Yes’m. G’night then.”

“Good-night.”

When Andy had taken his blankets into the woods, Jonah crossed his arms and leaned against a tree trunk. “A bit hard on the
boy, aren’t you? He’s just a kid, you know, and kids his age get curious about such things.”

“His ma was a whore, so he probably knows more about trollops than you do. It’s a good thing you have me to look after you,
or you’d get stolen blind before you got halfway to Dawson.”

“Your faith in my innate intelligence is always uplifting. Maybe the ladies were just after a little pleasant company.”

Katy sniffed. “You think your handsome face was what
brought them over here? Think again. Believe me. They were more interested in kissing your greenbacks than anything else you
might have that’s worth kissing.”

Jonah heard a tinge of the green in Katy’s voice. He grinned. The possibility of her being jealous was intriguing. Could his
little Daniel Boone in skirts be suffering the same impossible attraction that he felt for her?

“Of course, you know all about whores and what they want,” he goaded.

“I’ve known enough of them to know how they operate.”

“And you know all about men, too, I suppose, and whatever it is they have that’s not as enjoyable to kiss as a wad of greenbacks.”

Katy gave him an arch look. “I know enough, believe me! Most men overestimate their power over women.”

“Is that so?”

“That’s so.”

“When I kissed you in Missoula, I suppose that wasn’t anything that could make a whore forget her preoccupation with greenbacks
and pocket picking.”

“I’m
not a whore,” Katy replied with a sniff. “So I couldn’t really say. But it certainly didn’t have
me
swinging in the clouds.”

“You seemed ready enough to kiss me in Skaguay,” Jonah reminded her wickedly.

“That was for luck.” She shrugged and smiled with superior unconcern. “I’ve kissed my share of men, and more besides. I could
kiss you all day and get only sore lips from the experience.”

“Really?”

“Really! Not every female turns into a limp noodle when you pucker up, Jonah Armstrong.”

Jonah grinned, unable to resist the challenge, especially when it presented itself in the guise of Katy’s sweetly curved mouth
and flashing eyes. “Are you all words, Katy girl, or do you have the guts to back up that claim with money?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re a gambling woman. Put your money where your mouth is. Or maybe I should say put your mouth where your mouth is.”

Katy blinked. “You’re joking.”

“Hell no, I’m not joking. I’m so eminently resistible to women. Prove it. Kiss me.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Hah! I thought so. Katy O’Connell talks big, but when it’s time to put up or shut up, she’s not quite so cocky. You’re afraid
of me.”

Fists balled on her hips, Katy sneered. “Afraid of you? When pigs fly. Like I said. I could kiss you all day and not feel
a thing!”

“Be my guest.”

“All right. I will. Two bucks says I can plant one right on your mouth and walk away without even breaking a sweat.”

“Two bucks isn’t much.”

“You want to lose more?” she taunted.

“All right.” He pushed away from the tree and reached for her.

Katy jumped back. “Wait a minute. I’m supposed to kiss you.”

“Oh no. That’s stacking the deck in your favor. You could just give me some little maidenly peck that wouldn’t melt soft butter.
I get to kiss
you.”

He enjoyed the flash of uncertainty that crossed her face. Then she gathered her courage and faced him squarely. “Do your
worst!”

Jonah thought his best was called for, not his worst. From their first meeting, Katy had alternately bullied him and mothered
him. She treated him as though he were a wet-behind-the-ears kid who didn’t have enough sense to come in out of the rain,
ridiculing his skills, his strength, his talents, and now his virility. He had a powerful need to render Katy O’Connell flustered,
disoriented, helpless, and completely at his manly
mercy. The problem was, the moment Jonah touched his lips to hers, he discovered that he had other powerful needs as well.

For her part, Katy wasn’t sure just how she’d been stupid enough to get herself into the current predicament. Gambling with
a pair of lips was much more dangerous than gambling with mere money—and she didn’t know the game nearly as well. The touch
of Jonah’s mouth was temptingly intimate. His day’s growth of whiskers scraped pleasantly across her cheek. The scent of him—woodsmoke
and clean male sweat—enveloped her like a warm blanket.

His mouth nibbled. His tongue played at the seam of her lips, which she stubbornly kept closed, in spite of a weak-kneed instinct
to open to him.

“Open your mouth,” he whispered against her cheek.

“No,” she whispered back.

“That’s part of being kissed. Are you a welcher, Katy O’Connell?”

Hesitantly, she cracked her mouth open. With tickling caresses of his tongue, he persuaded her to let him explore farther.
He deepened the kiss, and that liquid surrender that Katy wanted to deny started simmering in her veins. She couldn’t help
molding herself to his hard, warm body. It was all she could do to not lift one leg and wrap it around his as his hands pressed
her hips against his.

Suddenly he broke off. They both gasped for breath. Katy figured she could win the bet simply by backing out of his arms and
making some casual remark to show how unaffected she was. But she couldn’t. She could no more move away from Jonah at that
moment than she could move out of her own skin. His eyes wouldn’t let her go. She didn’t know that blue could be a warm color,
but in Jonah’s eyes, it was. She was hypnotized by the heat of his gaze. Her senses whirled in a dizzy spiral, and when Jonah
once again lowered his mouth to hers she met him with unreserved gusto, moved by a sudden need to show him that she could
be just as much a woman
as those bosomy, painted whores in the next camp. Instinct took over as she warred playfully with his seeking tongue and pressed
her hips against his. She could hear the rapid drumming of his heart—or was it hers? Her body became soft and molten, fitting
to every hard plane and curve of masculine muscle. When his hand slid between them and gently squeezed her breast, she thought
she would explode from the bolt of aching pleasure that shot from her heart to the most private parts of her body.

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