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." He gestured and grinned at his own words.The lady gave an inelegant snort of disapproval before turning away."Your mistress?''"No." Devil continued his description."A waist no bigger than my hands." He showed her again.But he was thinking of the way she felt cradled next to his chest, the way her wild, innocent passion had caused a tempest to rage in his soul.His body tensed, hardening instantly."Never seen the young woman." The modiste swept from her seat behind the desk, moving to a table set with patterns and magazines of the latest fashions.Her stiff back turned to him, she sorted and stacked the material there."Yellow makes her look as fresh as a spring day." And ripe for picking.He thought he saw the lady hesitate a moment, her shoulders and arms tensing as if she knew something she wasn't about to share with the likes of him."The lady you speak of hasn't been in my shop." Her voice sounded as prim and proper as a Boston tea party.Liar, "So you say.'' He tipped his hat in a gentlemanly show of manners while he inwardly seethed."I most certainly do," came the terse reply, the woman's features drawing together into a sour pucker."A gun for hire has no business questioning my integrity.Now unless you have further business here, I suggest you leave immediately."Devil tipped his hat.His frustration simmering into anger, he let the door bang shut.The air smelled fresher on the other side of the door anyway.Walking down the street, he listened to the jingle of his spurs as they hit the ground and the wind's soft moan as it swept around the buildings.He passed by Market Street and Holladay Street, part of the red-light district, without giving the buildings a second glance.Mrs.Limpkin's berry pie sure smelled good.He could see five pies sitting out on the windowsill of her boardinghouse.Rusty poked his head out from the door to the livery, a mischievous grin planted squarely on his round face.The boy slipped between the double doors and started toward him with a gangly gait."Sir." The feminine voice behind him sounded airy and breathless.Before he could turn and acknowledge the woman, he felt small fingers close around his wrist in an invitation."Sir?" she asked, still breathless and slightly agitated, her chest heaving, despite the short run.Devil smiled and tipped his hat.One of the girls who worked at the dress shop stood in front of him, her face flushed with the exertion of chasing after him.She inhaled deeply--to catch her breath, he presumed.Her hand was placed just above her heaving bosom."Sir." she repeated.His fingers rested on the butt of his gun, his stance wide as he stared at her, waiting to hear her out."I overheard your conversation with Madame Giselle."Madame Giselle was as French as he was.Devil waited."I.I know it's none of my business, but the lady you described has been to the shop.A man old enough to be her father bought her a yellow dress a couple of weeks ago, and he ordered an entire wardrobe, including." She paused, still trying to catch her breath."Including?" Devil didn't care for the direction of this conversation.He saw delicate under things, and filmy confections that tantalized and beckoned, things he meant to buy for her--as soon as he could find her."Unmentionables and beautiful nightclothes," the girl said.Devil's fists closed around his gun as bile rose in his throat.The implications of what the girl told him hit him hard in the gut."The man wasn't satisfied with the merchandise and insisted that some of the garments be redone." After looking Devil straight in the eye, she added hastily, "He still isn't satisfied and he returned several garments.He won't pay the bill until the clothes suit him."Madame Giselle says he left her high and dry without a cent.She says the dresses are perfect the way they are, and the changes he's insisted on are impossible.That's why she was so cross with you just now.She wants her money.""Tell your boss that if I find the lady in question, and if the lady is willing, I'll settle the bills.""Oh, thank you, sir." The girl swung around, her skirts billowing, and headed back to the shop."Bad news, Devil?"The slight sneer in Rusty's voice didn't sit well with Devil at the moment.He wasn't in the mood to deal with the little scamp, nor did he care to listen to the boy's lies.His anger and frustration burned deep even while he thanked Allah he'd found at least one clue to the angel's whereabouts."No, now that I think on it, the information is very good." Devil's stride lengthened."What do you want, Rusty? More advice?""Mother wanted me to ask if you wanted a piece of pie.""No." He paused thoughtfully."Get Jabbar ready.I'm going for a ride.""Think you'll meet up with the little blond hellion again?" Rusty taunted.Devil schooled his features.' 'What do you know about her?''Rusty shrugged his thin shoulders."Not much.'' He glanced sideways at Devil then at the tall man striding toward them."Misha," Devil said.Misha tipped his hat.Devil waited for an answer, his arms crossed over his chest, a stern expression on his face."Out with it, Rusty.All of it."Rusty had the look of the cat who caught the canary and wasn't about to spit it up."She kept her big stallion here."Devil waited, and his hand came down on the back of Rusty's neck, exerting pressure.The boy squirmed then settled."The man she came to Denver with rode out of here a few hours ago.Headed into the hills." Rusty looked too smug
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