Sacramento, California1894
Whose shirt was she wearing?
Haley Caufield lifted her head off the pillow and squinted down at the strange white linen shirtsleeve draped over her hand. Her breath caught. It was a man’s shirt.
Curled on her side, she craned her neck and peered over the satin coverlet. Bright morning sunlight streamed through the lace curtains across the room, piercing her eyes and sending a dull ache reverberating through her head. The room came into focus: marble-topped table, green velvet settee, beveled mirror.
Ribbons of fear threaded through her. Nothing looked familiar.
The bed behind her suddenly shifted of its own volition, and an arm snaked beneath the covers and around her waist. Fingers brushed her bare belly and settled between her breasts.
Haley froze. She pressed her lips together to hold in the scream that burned her throat. Someone was in bed with her!
The arm tightened and pulled her across the bed, molding her against a hard chest; muscular thighs eased against the backs of her legs. Haley’s heart slammed into her ribs, pounding with an intensity that escalated the dull ache in her head to a pulsating throb.
Slowly she pushed her thick brown hair aside and looked back over her shoulder. A man!
A little whimper slipped from her throat. Panic overwhelmed her. A strange shirt, a strange bed, a strange room—and a man. What had she done?
Haley turned her head away, her mind spinning. How could this have happened? She’d never been on an unchaperoned outing before, never allowed a man to so much as kiss her—not even Reginald Farnsworth.
The image of her mother flashed before her eyes, and Haley nearly groaned aloud at the memory of her dire warning about coming to Sacramento alone. The entire twenty-three years of Haley’s life had been spent safeguarding her reputation. How could she face her mother again? The woman still brooded over the Farnsworth episode. What would she say if she found out about this?
Haley cringed. If her mother ever discovered the real reason she’d come to Sacramento, she’d probably never speak to her again.
The hand between her breasts shifted, and Haley tensed. A wave of nausea swept over her. When word of this scandal got out, she’d be ruined.
Haley pressed her fingers to her lips, afraid she’d be physically ill. The deep, even breathing of the man behind her echoed in her aching head. As if nothing were amiss, as if the world hadn’t just come crashing down, he lay sleeping, oblivious of everything.
A glimmer of hope blossomed in Haley’s mind. Maybe, just maybe, she could slip away without waking him, and no one would ever know of this debacle.
Holding her breath, Haley reached beneath the covers and closed her hand around the man’s forearm. The coarse hair covering his thick, heavy muscles felt foreign against her fingers. Carefully she lifted his arm and dislodged his hand from between her breasts. Hope flickered. This just might work.
“Not so fast.”
Haley gasped as the man quickly captured her waist and rolled her onto her back. He pushed himself above her on one elbow. Dark stubble covered his firm chin and square jaw. Tousled black hair hung over his forehead. Deep green eyes assessed her lazily, playfully. Haley swallowed hard.
“You’re not trying to get away from me, are you?” He dipped his head and nuzzled her neck.
Haley’s mind reeled as strange sensations assailed her. His lips, soft yet demanding. His body, powerful against hers. She wanted to push away, but was afraid to touch him. He exuded an animal strength.
Haley licked her dry lips. “Well, yes, I have to go now.”
He lifted his head and frowned down at her. “All night includes the following morning.”
What was he talking about? Haley shifted away, but he tightened his grip on her. She forced a smile. “Actually, I don’t think it’s morning any longer.”
He shrugged indifferently. “I don’t give a damn what time of day it is. I’ll pay you extra.”
“Pay? What are you—?”
He lowered his head to her neck again. “After last night, you’re worth any price.”
Haley gasped, and her body went rigid, blocking out the feel of his mouth on her skin. “You think I’m a…a…”
He lifted his head again. “Look, honey, I’m not paying to hear you talk.”
Haley swatted at him. “Get off of me! Get your vile, disgusting self off of me this instant!”
He pushed himself higher on his elbow. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”
She thrashed wildly, kicked back the covers and sat up. “How dare you say such a thing to me! I’ve never been so insulted in my entire life! Where did you ever get the idea that I am one of those…those…soiled doves?”
A wry grin tugged at his lips, and he gestured with his hand. “Well…”
Haley looked down and gasped in horror at the sight of her shirt hanging open, her bare breasts peeking out. She grabbed the fabric and pulled it tight against her.
“Call yourself what you like, honey, but it’s getting late, and I’ve got things to do today. Come on.”
She slapped his hand. “Don’t touch me!”
“Maybe you’d better explain what you’re doing in my bed.” He leaned back against the pillow and dug his knuckles into his eyes.
Haley felt her cheeks burn at the sight of his wide chest, covered with crisp, dark hair. A new wave of humiliation washed over her. “This is your room?”
He gazed around, then pushed his fingers through his hair and shrugged. “No, I guess it’s not. Is it yours?”
“Of course not!” Hot indignation burned in her. She couldn’t bear another second of this.
Haley scrambled from the bed, clutching her shirt closed as a fresh tide of embarrassment engulfed her. Her gown lay on the floor, beside his trousers. One of his socks rested atop her stocking. Her petticoat hung from a chair, with his undershirt draped over it.
Mortified, Haley bent to retrieve her stocking, then remembered that the shirt she wore barely covered her thighs. She froze and glanced back over her shoulder. He lay propped against the pillow, the sheet barely covering him, one arm resting casually over his drawn-up knee, watching her and looking comfortable and relaxed, as if he woke every morning of his life in a strange bed with a strange woman beside him.
Cautiously she bent at the knees and snatched up her stocking, then rushed around the room, grabbing her clothing. Then she dashed into the bathroom and slammed the door.
Her head throbbed painfully and her stomach rolled as she stood by the sink, trembling. How could this have happened? She’d had only one thing on her mind when she left San Francisco, and that would be scandalous enough if word ever got out.
She had no notion of where she was or how she’d gotten here, but one thing was certain. She was leaving immediately, and would never lay eyes on that man or this place again.
Haley dropped her bundle of clothing on the tile floor—evening wear from the wedding she’d attended yesterday with Aunt Harriet. Haley shuddered at the thought of going out in public now, with no hat, no gloves, exposing her bare shoulders at midday. What would Aunt Harriet say?
She didn’t care. She would get to the safety