fire had burned so low only a few glowing embers remained. It was cold in the mountains at night, even in mid-June. Princess Marlena was shivering. She sat hugging herself, her teeth chattering. She would freeze if she waited much longer. She drew a shallow breath and slowly rose to her feet.
And froze where she stood when the Ranger said, in that flat Texas drawl, “Don’t take a step. You’re not going anywhere.” A long tense pause, then, more softly, “It’s cold, Red. Come here and get warm.”
The princess fervently wished that she had the fortitude to say no. But she did not. She was, for the moment at least, beaten. Dead-tired, impossibly sleepy, chilled to the bone, she gave in. Saying nothing, she started toward him. He again threw back one side of the blanket. Despising herself for being weak, the princess reluctantly lay down beside him, carefully making sure not to touch him.
She turned away from him, drew the shared blanket up over her shoulders, and closed her burning eyes. Then gasped and sputtered her outrage when the Ranger’s arm came around her.
“Shhh,” he cautioned, drawing her back against his hard muscled chest, fitting his long, lean body around hers, spoon fashion. “Behave now. Go to sleep.”
The princess didn’t go to sleep.
Not for a long, long time. Never in her life had she slept with another human being. Not even when she was married to the duke of Hernden. Not once had she allowed Sir Cedric to spend a night in her bed. Every night of her life she had gone to sleep alone and awakened alone. No way in the world would she sleep tonight. It was totally impossible. Out of the question.
The princess was horrified by the realization that she was lying in the arms of a ruthless Texas Ranger who was taking her to jail. She was even more horrified by the way her heart misbehaved when his muscular arm suddenly tightened around her. She stopped breathing entirely when his large tanned hand with its long, tapered fingers spread, settled possessively on her stomach.
She shivered involuntarily. And it wasn’t from the cold.
This man in whose arms she now lay was decidedly dangerous in his potent virility. She had never known such a ruggedly masculine man, and she recognized, with a shiver of icy fear, the very real threat he posed. An animal, sexual threat as old as time itself, but one that was totally novel to her.
Instinctively, the princess knew that she would have to be constantly on guard against this strange man. Which was a first for her. She had spent her life in the company of some of the most handsome and sophisticated gentlemen in Europe, but had never felt threatened by any of them.
This Ranger was different. This Ranger was dangerous. This Ranger must never get the chance to kiss her again.
The sudden, vivid recollection of his hot, aggressive kisses brought a warm flush to her cheeks and a strange tightness to her nipples. And she couldn’t keep from wondering—imagining—just what kind of lover he would be.
At that moment Virgil sighed deeply in his sleep, and the princess felt his warm, moist breath on her neck. Her own breath caught in her throat. Tingling from head to toe, experiencing new and disturbing feelings from simply lying in this sleeping man’s arms, the princess squirmed and shivered and knew she wouldn’t sleep a wink all night.
* * *
“Kiss me, baby,” he coaxed huskily, “Kiss me like you’ve never kissed any man before.”
Naked, he lay stretched out on his back in the brilliant mountain moon glow, his long, lean body gleaming a dark golden bronze against the vivid velvety green of the soft meadow grass. She too was unashamedly naked, her body as pale as the puffy white clouds that sailed high above them. Enclosed within his powerful arms, she lay close beside him on the downy cushion of grass.
“No,” she murmured, stretching lazily, “you kiss me. Kiss me and tell me how much you want me.”
“Anything you say, baby.”
He
And froze where she stood when the Ranger said, in that flat Texas drawl, “Don’t take a step. You’re not going anywhere.” A long tense pause, then, more softly, “It’s cold, Red. Come here and get warm.”
The princess fervently wished that she had the fortitude to say no. But she did not. She was, for the moment at least, beaten. Dead-tired, impossibly sleepy, chilled to the bone, she gave in. Saying nothing, she started toward him. He again threw back one side of the blanket. Despising herself for being weak, the princess reluctantly lay down beside him, carefully making sure not to touch him.
She turned away from him, drew the shared blanket up over her shoulders, and closed her burning eyes. Then gasped and sputtered her outrage when the Ranger’s arm came around her.
“Shhh,” he cautioned, drawing her back against his hard muscled chest, fitting his long, lean body around hers, spoon fashion. “Behave now. Go to sleep.”
The princess didn’t go to sleep.
Not for a long, long time. Never in her life had she slept with another human being. Not even when she was married to the duke of Hernden. Not once had she allowed Sir Cedric to spend a night in her bed. Every night of her life she had gone to sleep alone and awakened alone. No way in the world would she sleep tonight. It was totally impossible. Out of the question.
The princess was horrified by the realization that she was lying in the arms of a ruthless Texas Ranger who was taking her to jail. She was even more horrified by the way her heart misbehaved when his muscular arm suddenly tightened around her. She stopped breathing entirely when his large tanned hand with its long, tapered fingers spread, settled possessively on her stomach.
She shivered involuntarily. And it wasn’t from the cold.
This man in whose arms she now lay was decidedly dangerous in his potent virility. She had never known such a ruggedly masculine man, and she recognized, with a shiver of icy fear, the very real threat he posed. An animal, sexual threat as old as time itself, but one that was totally novel to her.
Instinctively, the princess knew that she would have to be constantly on guard against this strange man. Which was a first for her. She had spent her life in the company of some of the most handsome and sophisticated gentlemen in Europe, but had never felt threatened by any of them.
This Ranger was different. This Ranger was dangerous. This Ranger must never get the chance to kiss her again.
The sudden, vivid recollection of his hot, aggressive kisses brought a warm flush to her cheeks and a strange tightness to her nipples. And she couldn’t keep from wondering—imagining—just what kind of lover he would be.
At that moment Virgil sighed deeply in his sleep, and the princess felt his warm, moist breath on her neck. Her own breath caught in her throat. Tingling from head to toe, experiencing new and disturbing feelings from simply lying in this sleeping man’s arms, the princess squirmed and shivered and knew she wouldn’t sleep a wink all night.
* * *
“Kiss me, baby,” he coaxed huskily, “Kiss me like you’ve never kissed any man before.”
Naked, he lay stretched out on his back in the brilliant mountain moon glow, his long, lean body gleaming a dark golden bronze against the vivid velvety green of the soft meadow grass. She too was unashamedly naked, her body as pale as the puffy white clouds that sailed high above them. Enclosed within his powerful arms, she lay close beside him on the downy cushion of grass.
“No,” she murmured, stretching lazily, “you kiss me. Kiss me and tell me how much you want me.”
“Anything you say, baby.”
He
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