Read Online Just Once by Jill Marie Landis - Free Book Online Page B

could hear Jemma’s deep, even breathing over the sound of the rain. The storm was moving inland. Lightning continued to flash. Thunder echoed from afar. Hunter glanced over at his new charge, who looked even more like an angel-come-to-earth in her sleep than she had awake. Her blond curls teased one cheek. Her hand lay palm up, relaxed, soft and white. Like Amelia’s, but not like anyone’s at Sandy Shoals. This girl had never done a hard day’s work in her life. She was either totally vulnerable or totally convincing.
    He hated the fact that he was tempted to get up, walk around the mattress, and touch her hair to see if it felt as soft as it looked.
    There was still time to forget the gold piece, leave it with her and climb out the window. He didn’t owe this stranger anything, didn’t have to spare her another thought.
    Jemma-with-no-last-name would have to look out for herself.
    Without making a sound, Hunter sat up, drew one knee to his chest, and draped his arm over it. He stared through the darkness, still intrigued, too pestered by his ruminations to sleep.
    What respectable young girl would be out on the streets of New Orleans alone? Why did she want to get out of the city so badly that she would put her trust and her life in the hands of a man she’d never laid eyes on?
    He glanced at the door. Things had quieted down some outside. If he was going to walk out, now was the time, while she was asleep. Before she could talk him into staying.
    He thought of the man who had grabbed her in the tavern and the gambler who had wrestled with her beneath the streetlight. His conscience would plague him for weeks if he left her now.
    The truth of the matter was that he had made an agreement with her and above all, he was a man of his word.
    There was no going back on it now.

Chapter 4
    By the overcast light of a new dawn, the squalid rented room looked worse than it had in the darkness. So did the reality of her situation. Jemma furtively paced the confines of the tiny room, familiar with every stain and crack on the uneven planking. The hideous stench of the place—a combination of fish, stale liquor, and something else she didn’t want to think about—was so thick she could almost taste the very air.
    As she skirted the mattress on the floor and crossed the room for the hundredth time, she tugged the ripped shoulder of her gown and then she pressed her open palm to her forehead.
    Hunter Boone was gone, ostensibly after supplies. He had left just before dawn, but not until she had sworn she would not open the door until she heard his voice again. The last she’d seen of him was his backside as he crawled out the window, insisting he didn’t want anyone to realize she was in the room alone.
    Now, what seemed an eternity later, her imagination was proving to be a curse rather than a gift. Had Boone taken her last coin and deserted her? She didn’t know which upset her more, the idea that he would not be coming back or that at some point she was going to have to actually open the door and face the creatures outside the room.
    The seductive quiet outside the door lulled her into a sense of security. Her silk slippers, ruined by the mud and mire of the streets, made no sound as she crossed the room and paused with her ear to the rough wooden door. Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine opening it and stepping out into the unknown. Her options were limited by the mere fact that she was a woman. Thanks to her own foolhardiness, she was now penniless as well.
    The hollow, ominous sound of the cathedral bells marked the hour. The church was not that far away. If she could safely leave this den of iniquity and somehow make her way alone through the streets, she might take sanctuary there, explain her situation and beg shelter at a convent, at least until her father arrived. Once there, she would have months to repent her impulsive, rash act.
    Forgetting the fetid stench in the air, she took a deep breath and gagged as her