Vellum stepped away from the fire, toward her. Clay was at the horses, going through the packs to see what Beaufort's men had carried with them. The Marshal was unaware of Vellum stepping into her personal space, unaware that her senses filled with the smell of cool earth and unaware that her eyes were blind to all except Vellum's masculine, beautiful features.
"Did the Marshal turn you against me as I slept?" he murmured. He reached out and gently ran his fingertips through her hair.
It took all of her will not to lean into the touch. Vellum's undeniable power intoxicated her. She didn't care that it was unnatural. Vellum was the ultimate protector. Her womanhood recognized a superior alpha. Why weren't her instincts warning her away from him? Where had her sense of self-preservation gone?
"It doesn't matter what Clay or anyone else tells me," she replied. "I make up my own mind about people."
"And what has your mind told you about me?"
"To be careful around you, but to believe that you're a man of your word."
He laughed, very softly. "I'm not a man, but you may trust my word."
"You were once a man. Deep inside, I think you're still a man."
He was amused by her, like he would be of a dog that yipped.
"If you think I'm so enamored of you that I'll do anything you say, you're wrong," she told him, irritated. "I may think there's some humanity left in you, but that doesn't mean I've forgotten how you hurt me."
His brow drew down, his features pinching into an expression of regret. "I was not myself when you opened my crate, Mariel. Please, I need you to accept my apologies."
"I understood that. You were hungry…"
"I'm hungry now," he said softly, "but I'll prove to you that I can be a gentleman for you. I want to be." He briefly caressed her cheek. His fingers were cooler than they'd been last night. "Go to the fire and keep the handsome Marshal company, Mariel. He could use an understanding friend. I'll return shortly with dinner."
He walked past her and when she turned to follow his progress, she gasped because he'd vanished. Was he invisible? No, just fast. Again, she experienced an illicit thrill at his power.
"Has he decided to let us go?" Clay asked when she joined him at the fire. He grinned ruefully.
She smiled back. "He's gone hunting for our dinner."
"If he'd give me my damn gun back I'd save him the effort. I've searched all the horses and it's nowhere."
"In the crate?" she suggested, wincing on his behalf.
"Nah, I saw inside it when he pulled out my boots. Nothing in there but dirt and tar." He made a face as he pretended to brush dirt from the toe of his boot.
"Never took you for a vain man, Marshal," she teased.
"'Marshal', is it? Well, ma'am, I've never had a reason to care about how I look until now."
She couldn't tell if he was teasing. He was smiling but that seemed to be his default expression and she liked that about him. From his hair to the color of his eyes to his personality, everything about Clay was easy-going and comfortable. Would lying with him be just as easy? Or would he show surprising intensity, a devilish side?
Mariel had to laugh at her thoughts. Clearly, traveling with two good-looking males was causing her imagination to run wild like an unbroken horse.
"I found fixings for coffee." He motioned at the pot sitting within the fire.
She rubbed her arms. "I could use it, thank you." She glanced out into the desert as a saberwolf howled. "Never traveled by moonlight like this." She turned to him. "Is this unusual for you, too? I mean, not counting Vellum. I imagine as a Marshal, you must have a lot of unusual experiences beneath your belt."
"Not any so exciting." Clay poked at the wood with a stick. "Mostly I've dealt with horse thieves and robbers. On a couple of occasions I've gone after airship pirates who've settled within the territory."
"Airship pirates!" Mariel covered her mouth sheepishly. "I apologize. I shouldn't be so excited about criminals—I'm not, honestly—but I once harbored the fantasy of captaining an airship. Silly, I know, but—"
"Not silly at all," Clay said. "I've met plenty of legitimate captains and you're just like them, Mariel."
She smiled to herself. "That's nice of you to say."
"I didn't say it to be nice. I said it because it's the truth. I could tell after talking to you for a while that you're meant for better things than running an old inn in Willowtown." He gave her a look over. "I could see you in the uniform. No doubt about it. Trousers and all."
"Trousers!" she laughed. "I almost think I want to be one just for the trousers. My friends and customers would drop dead if they saw me in trousers."
"You'd look good in them," Clay went on, his eyes darkening. "They'd show off some mighty fine legs, I'm sure."
Instead of blushing or looking away as she might have done before she'd joined the train in Willowtown, Mariel boldly met his gaze.
"Guess you'll just have to wonder about that," she said.
"Will I?" he said. "Only guess?"
"Marshal, you're being rather forward, don't you think?"
His smile made her heart flip. "You telling me to back off, ma'am?"
Fortunately, Vellum appeared, sparing her from answering. The black-clad male emerged from the shadows just outside the ring of firelight as though he'd been standing there all along. Maybe he had been.