Gunslinger by Connie Mason Read Free Book Online

deflected it upward just as the gun fired. Tate spit out a curse as he wrested the gun from her hand and tossed it to the ground.
    “You weren’t this ornery when we were courting,” Tate complained.
    Chloe’s chin rose in open defiance. “I’ve learned a great deal since then,” she hissed. “I learned to shoot straight and distrust bastards like you.”
    “And you learned to wear trousers and flaunt yourself like a cheap whore,” he taunted.
    “Men learned to keep their distance,” Chloe said with pride. “Go away and take your friends with you.”
    “I thought you and me could renew our ‘friendship,’ ” he purred into her ear. “I’ll send the boys away. No one need know what we’re doing out here. Maybe this time you’ll appreciate what I can do for you. I’m the only man who has ever mastered you, Chloe Sommers.”
    Chloe laughed in his face. “The only way I’ll ever appreciate you is dead. I was your victim once but never again. Mr. Jones is in my employ now.” Her gaze fell on Tate’s injured hand. “You have reason to know he’s a dangerous man. Leave now or you’ll find yourself at the business end of his gun. This time he won’t be so lenient with you.”
    “Desperado Jones won’t do a damn thing to me,” Tate bragged loudly.
    “Tate,” one of his pals warned, “keep your mouth shut. Your pa will have your hide if you spill the beans.”
    Chloe wondered what that was all about but didn’t have time to pursue the subject as Tate grabbed her with his left hand and pulled her against him. “If I wanted to I could take you right here, with the boys watching, but I’m gonna let you worry and wonder when I’m gonna catch you alone again. I’m just gonna give you a little taste of what you’re gonna get next time we meet.”
    Chloe felt bile rising in her throat as Tate’s mouth slammed down on hers. At one time she hadn’t minded his kisses. She’d even considered spending a lifetime with him, until he’d shown his true colors. She’d been naive and foolish then, blinded by his blond good looks and boyish charm. Then in one night of pure hell he’d exposed his black soul and mean spirit.
    In a move that caught Tate by surprise, Chloe grabbed his broken hand and gave it a vicious twist. Tate screamed and spun away, nursing his injured hand against his chest.
    His face contorted with fury and pain. “You vicious bitch! You’re gonna be sorry you did that.”
    He started toward her and she backed away, abruptly stopping at the edge of the water. “You’re gonna get it now,” he warned. “Grab her, boys,” he bellowed to his friends. “She needs to be taught a lesson.”
    “Drop your guns. All of you. One false move and you’re dead men. Move away from her, Talbot. Real slow like.”
    Chloe let out a ragged cry. Never had she been so happy to hear that raspy, mean-as-hell voice. Desperado sat rigid in the saddle, his face, what she could see of it in the shadows beneath the brim of his hat, made even her shiver with fear.
    Tate backed away from Chloe, his hands raised in the air. “Now see here, Jones, Pa ain’t gonna like this.”
    “Somehow I don’t think he’d approve of what you intended to do to Miss Sommers.”
    “She wants it,” Tate said sullenly. “That sweet little body of hers is just crying for it. Hell, her and me—”
    Chloe exploded in outrage when she realized what Tate was about to reveal. She spied her gun lying at her feet, swept it up into her hand, and before Tate had finished speaking she cocked back the hammer and shot his hat off.
    Tate picked up his hat and stared at the hole. “Now what did you go and do that for?”
    “Guess,” Chloe bit out. “I aimed for your head. Be grateful I was too angry to shoot straight. Get out of here and don’t come back. If you or your friends set foot on my property again, I’ll consider you trespassing and shoot to kill.”
    Tate gave her a knowing smirk. “This ain’t gonna be your land for