Texas Lawman

Sarah leaned into him, as if she sought his warmth and strength, and he tucked her neatly to his length, then lifted her chin, the better to see her face. “I’m not going to tell you I love you yet,” he said with obvious honesty. “But I sure do like you, and I’ve got a hankering for you that won’t leave me alone. I think I could spend my whole life with you and never regret my choice.”

He bent his head and his lips were gentle against hers. And then, as if a fire had come to life between them, he held her closer and his mouth opened a bit, his tongue begging entry. She allowed his foray, silent and almost unmoving as he set about a tentative survey of her mouth. She was unused to such love play. He was certain of it, recognizing that her trust in him was her sole reason for allowing his exploration.

His kiss softened and he transferred his attention to her cheek, then her temple and forehead, leaving a trail of kisses that she appeared to welcome. Eyes closed, she stood in his arms, and her breath was rapid against his face. Her breasts rose and fell quickly and he relished the feel of her shapely form against his chest. One hand found its way into her hair, and somehow he managed to undo the twisted coil she had formed on the back of her head sometime today. He pulled several pins free, and the long length of waves fell down her back.

“My hair.” Her voice was a mere whisper as she jerked in his arms. “You’ve taken down my hair.”

“Yeah, I surely did,” he told her, holding her a few inches from him, the better to see her. His fingers made inroads into the thick, dark mass, and against his skin it felt like the finest silk. “I’ve been wanting to see it like this ever since I met you. It was loose that night, too.”

“I couldn’t find my pins,” she said. “Once I got here, I located them in my saddlebags.”

“And you’ve kept it in a damn knot ever since,” he told her. “Hair like this should be seen.”

“It’s not seemly,” she told him. “A lady wears her hair up in public.”

“Well, this lady is going to wear it down when she’s with her husband,” he stated firmly. “You’re too pretty to look like an old maid.”

“I am an old maid.”

“Not quite,” Brace said. “You aren’t old enough, to begin with, and I’ll warrant there’s been more than one man chasin’ after you.”

She blushed again and dropped her gaze. He tugged her closer and held her captive before him. His hands slid the length of her back, then returned to where her curls and waves fell to her waist. He gripped her hair in both hands and used it as a lever, pulling her head back enough for him to seek out her mouth again.

With a muffled sigh she lifted her arms and encircled his neck, leaning into his strength and relaxing her body, allowing her softness to blend with his muscled form. She fitted herself against him then, and he felt a rush of desire that caught him broadside.

Sarah might be inexperienced and was no doubt a virgin, but she had a natural sensuality that caused his blood to rush to the appropriate places in his body, and he found himself more than ready to carry her up the stairs to his bed.

As if she knew his mind, she stepped back, folding her arms around her waist. “I don’t think this is a good idea, Sheriff,” she said firmly. “I’m going to bed. Alone. And I’m going to try real hard to forget all this ever happened.”

Yet half an hour later as she lay in her bed, Sarah was conscious of a strange heat that possessed her as she recalled his smile and the tilt of his head as he’d released her from his hold.

“I don’t think you’ll be able to forget it so easily, Miss Sarah,” he’d said.

And he was right. For the first time in her life she began to understand why a woman might find marriage attractive. Why a man might appeal to the baser instincts that a woman usually kept under lock and key. Heaven knew, she hadn’t protested when he’d kissed her. Or hugged her and pressed her against his body. Quite the opposite, in fact.

She felt a shiver of delight as she thought of his big hands on her, and wondered for a forbidden minute how those same hands would feel against her skin. Not her hands or face, but the skin hidden by her clothing. An image of his long fingers against her breast made her sit upright in bed, and she groaned. She was becoming a wanton, and it was all his fault.

Tomorrow—tomorrow she’d turn over a new leaf. She’d be aloof and keep their relationship purely friendly. She’d give him no encouragement in his pursuit of her. Lying back down, her head on her pillow, she sighed. It sounded like a difficult assignment. For right now she could think of nothing she’d like better than to feel Brace Caulfield’s arms around her again.