Any minute now, Miranda Stalworth told herself for the fourteenth time in as many minutes. She glanced at her watch again before lowering her loosely bound hands back down to her lap and gave her captor another pleading look.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured through the bandanna tied around the bottom half of his face. His low, soothing drawl reassured her. “It’s all part of the skit.”

He adjusted her again across his well-muscled thighs as he rode the bay mare across a flat expanse of desert, trailing the other three men. His arms held fast to the reins with her fit securely in between. It wasn’t the first time she caught herself leaning into him, breathing in his clean, earthy scent.

She looked again to her watch and then back into his crystalline blue eyes to receive a nod and a wink in return. A blush climbed above the makeshift gag he’d tied around her mouth as she remembered the moment just off the train when he’d encouraged her to play along, and then asked if any of her binds were too tight.

Of course, she’d told him they were all right, even though the rope around her ankles was digging into the flesh above her sandals; she didn’t want to seem like a spoilsport.

Everyone on the train had been having such a good time imagining themselves in an old-time robbery as the masked bandits climbed aboard the creeping locomotive. Most of the people even cheered at their remarkable stunts, the way they jumped off their moving horses while keeping realistic-looking pistols in their grips.

The hold-up hadn’t been a surprise to anyone but her. In fact, most people looked forward to it and the excitement on the tour built to a crescendo when the robbers finally arrived. Though if she knew she was going to be kidnapped, she’d have worn something a little sturdier than her white linen pantsuit and pink silk camisole.

Any minute now – Good heavens, his eyes were blue. So clear and blue, a girl could get lost in them.

He focused on her, shifted her closer. He seemed to read the direction of her thoughts as he smiled, the corners of his eyes wrinkling a bit for a moment before his gaze turned serious – too serious for Miranda’s liking – as he spoke again.

“Don’t panic.” He put his large hand over hers. “And don’t scream...”

Copyright ® 2006, 2007

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