Page 22 of Captured Desires

Maverick turned slowly, meeting her gaze. In the dim light, his eyes looked more haunted than ever.

"And if I don't like what I hear? If I still refuse to give up the gold and I decide to go my own way?"

He left the question hanging, the implication clear. Pearl swallowed hard, forcing herself to hold his stare.

Somehow she had to make him see reason, convince him to cooperate. Otherwise, Sarah's orders were clear. Bring Maverick in tonight, willing or not. And if he resisted...Pearl's hand drifted to the wooden stake concealed at her hip. She prayed it wouldn't come to that. The thought of being forced to use it made her stomach turn.

"She has plans for us."

"Plans," Maverick repeated, pushing off the wall, his movements deliberate, predatory even in his restraint. His proximity sent a shiver down her spine, the dance of shadow and light playing across his chiseled features.

"I can't disobey her," Pearl said, torn between the gravity of her mission and the undeniable draw to the man before her. Her loyalty to the Pinkertons warred with the burgeoning affection for this haunted outlaw sheriff, this vampire whose very existence defied the world she knew.

"Can't or won't?" Maverick challenged, closing the distance until mere inches separated them. His presence enveloped her, a storm about to break.

"Both," she admitted, her resolve fraying at the edges. The throbbing of the mate bond tattoo intensified, a cruel reminder of the stakes at play. She fought the longing to close the gap, to lose herself in the tempest of his embrace.

"I don't like this," he said. "The Pinkertons are not known for playing fair. And now they want to change the terms of our deal?" He shook his head. "It stinks, Pearl. It stinks to high heaven."

Pearl moved closer, tentatively resting a hand on his arm. She could feel the tension thrumming through him, coiled and ready to snap.

"I know," she said softly. "I don't like it either. But this threat, it's bigger than all of us. Bigger than the Pinkertons, bigger than your gang.”

Maverick turned to face her, his expression unreadable. "You really believe that, don't you? That this is some kind of noble cause, that the ends justify the means?"

Pearl met his gaze unflinchingly. "I have to believe it. I can't accept the alternative. I won't."

For a long moment, they stared at each other, the air between them crackling with tension. Pearl's heart raced, her breath coming short and shallow. Maverick's hand absently drifted to his chest, rubbing the spot where Pearl suspected his mate tattoo lay hidden beneath his shirt. The gesture sparked a flicker of curiosity within her, a longing to see the mark that bound them together.

"We need to leave tonight," Pearl said, her voice low and urgent. "Sarah was clear about that."

Maverick's jaw clenched, a muscle ticking beneath the stubble-shadowed skin. "I don't like being backed into a corner. But I'll come with you and hear Sarah out. I'm not promising anything beyond that, though."

Relief crashed through Pearl like a wave. She sagged forward, her forehead coming to rest against Maverick's chest.

"Thank you," she said. "Thank you for trusting me."

Maverick's arms came up around her, holding her close. Pearl breathed him in, leather and gunpowder and something uniquely him.

"I trust you," he murmured into her hair. "It's the Pinkertons I'm not so sure about."

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