Heart of Thunder
Page 32
“And I am your husband.”
Hank said it softly, and Samantha’s temper dissolved under his gaze. “Yes, you are.” She grinned. “And it’s time my father accepted that, once and for all.”
She rode off toward the group before Hank could say any more. He shook his head, thoroughly disgusted by this sudden turn. Five more minutes, just five minutes, and they would have been well on their way to the mountains, and seclusion.
“Cheer up, amigo,” said Lorenzo. “It is not so bad.”
Hank looked over at him sharply. “Not so bad? I could have had her all to myself, Lorenzo. How would you like to be cheated of that time with the woman you love?”
Lorenzo chuckled. “You will have other times. You will have the rest of your lives.”
“I suppose,” Hank conceded. “But, right this minute, that doesn’t really help.”
The two men followed Samantha. When they reached the group, she was standing by the wagon, hugging Jaime. Froilana was sitting in the wagon, looking at Samantha. Hamilton Kingsley was beside his daughter, a sternly disapproving look on his face, because she was ignoring what he was saying to her. Sheldon was standing nearby, as well, and Hank was amused to see the Englishman in trail clothes, a gun strapped to his hip.
Hank greeted the men quickly as he dismounted. His attention, like Samantha’s, was on his son. He moved quickly to her side and put his hand lightly on Jaime’s head. Samantha smiled up at him, her eyes bright with happiness. “You haven’t seen him for months. Here.” She handed Jaime over to him. “See how much he’s grown?”
Hank laughed as Jaime’s tiny fingers caught at the brim of his hat, pulling it off. The brim went straight into the baby’s mouth, and Samantha scolded gently as she took it away from him. Hank grinned at them, retrieving the hat. His son. His wife. He dreaded to think what life would have been like if Samantha hadn’t come back to him. But she had, and now they would be a family.
One member of her family wasn’t too happy about that, however.
“Señor Kingsley.” Hank nodded stiffly to the older man.
“Chavez,” Hamilton said curtly.
“Oh, honestly,” Samantha sighed. “You two had better start liking each other—whether you want to or not!”
“Samantha—” Hamilton began, but she cut him off.
“What are you doing here, father? I told you I would send word when to bring Jaime.”
“He missed his mother,” Hamilton said helplessly.
“Nonsense,” she scoffed. “You must have left home on the same day I left. What are you really doing here?”
“I’m here to talk some sense into you!” he blustered. “And to bring you home.”
Samantha stiffened. “I am home.” And with that, she turned on her brother. “Damn it, Shelly, you were all for my coming here. You understood. Why didn’t you talk him out of this?”
Sheldon looked shamefaced. “I tried, my dear. I suppose I haven’t mastered the art of argument yet.”
He said it so solemnly that Samantha burst into laughter. She couldn’t be mad at him. She couldn’t be mad at her father, either. She was just too happy to be mad at anyone.
“That’s all right, Shelly. You’ll learn,” she teased. “And as for you, father…look at me. Do I look like I need help?” She hugged him. “I’m grateful that you still have such concern for me, but it’s not necessary.” Earnestly she looked up into his eyes, hoping to make him understand, to be happy for her. “I love him. I love him with all my heart. And he loves me.”
“But—”
“No. Please don’t bring up the past. The past was all…wrong. What counts is now.”
“You’re sure, Sammy?”
“Very sure.”
“Well then.” He moved over to Hank and offered his hand. “I suppose it’s time I recognized your marriage. Old men act like fools every once in a while. I hope you’ll forgive this old fool.”
Hank smiled broadly and shook the hand. “With pleasure. And you will not regret giving your approval. I promise you that.”
Samantha took Jaime and handed him up to Froilana in the wagon. “The only problem, father, is you’ve come at a bad time.” She caught Hank’s hand and grinned. “We were just leaving.”
Hank’s eyes were dancing with delight as he led Samantha to El Cid and helped her mount. “You are all welcome at the hacienda,” he added. “If you care to wait until we return.”
“Where are you going?” Hamilton frowned.
“You might say, on a honeymoon.” Her smile was for all of them.
“Now? But you’ve been married a year.”
“Lots of people take delayed honeymoons.” She laughed. Glimpsing Hank’s amused look, she knew that he, too, was thinking of Bradford and Angela Maitland. “Ours is long overdue.”
“But for how long?”
“Two weeks maybe.”
“Or even a month,” Hank said as he mounted El Rey.
“Don’t frown so, father.” Samantha giggled. “You need a little rest. Enjoy the house, visit your old friends in the area. We’ll be back before you know it.”
“I suppose I don’t have much choice,” he grumbled.
“No, you don’t. Adiós.” And then she looked at Hank, and her eyes gleamed mischievously. “I’ll race you.”
“Oh, Lord!” she heard her father sigh.
Hank grinned, his eyes laughing with the challenge. “You have no chance of winning, gatita,” he warned her.
“Don’t I?”
Riding side by side, they raced away from the others, moving faster and faster until Samantha put her fingers to her lips and let out a shrill whistle. El Rey halted immediately. Samantha rode on, her laughter floating back on the wind to Hank. Shaking his head at her, he couldn’t help laughing. With her, he would never win. He hadn’t won in the past. He wouldn’t win in the future.
But it didn’t matter. He had won her love.
Enter the World of Johanna Lindsey
Welcome to the world of Johanna Lindsey, and enter into a fantasy of your choosing. Immerse yourself deep into times when men were warriors, tamed only by very special women, and romance reigned supreme. Whether it is against the backdrop of glamorous Regency England society, the pageantry of a medieval court, the wild wilderness of the American West, or any other you can imagine, Johanna Lindsey knows how to make a love story come alive. Enjoy!
Captive Bride
Johanna Lindsey touched deep into the soul of her readers with her first romance. The world knew a new star was born with this tale of an arrogant Arab prince cut down to size by a strong-minded English miss.
Philip Caxton saw Christina as soon as she entered the room. She turned away with contempt when she saw him. Well, he didn’t expect an easy conquest. She had seemed to hate him last night.
He sighed, cursing the lack of time. But perhaps Christina Wakefield was just playing hard to get. After all, young women came to London to look for husbands. And he wasn’t such a bad catch. But still, with only one day’s acquaintance, the odds were against him. Damn, why hadn’t he met her sooner?
Anne Shadwell drew Christina toward Philip. “Miss Wakefield, I would like to introduce—”
She was cut off abruptly.
“We’ve met,” Christina said contemptuously.
Anne Shadwell looked startled, but Philip made an arrogantly graceful bow, took Christina’s arm firmly, and walked her out onto the balcony. She resisted, but he was sure she wouldn’t cause a scene.
When they reached the railing, she whirled to face him defiantly.
“Really, Mr. Caxton! I thought I made myself quite clear last night, but since you don’t seem to understand, let me enlighten you. I don’t like you. You are a rude, conceited man, and I find you quite intolerable. Now if you will excuse me, I am going back to join my brother.” She turned to leave, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her back to him.
“Christina, wait,” he demanded huskily, forcing her to look into his dark eyes.
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nbsp; “I really don’t think we have anything to say to each other, Mr. Caxton. And please refrain from using my first name.” She turned to leave again, but Philip still grasped her hand in his. She faced him once more, stamping her foot in fury.
“Let go of my hand!” she demanded.
“Not until you’ve heard what I have to say, Tina,” he answered, pulling her closer to him.
“Tina!” She glared at him. “How dare—”
“I dare anything I damn well please. Now shut up and listen to me.” He was amused at the disbelief written on her lovely face. “Tina, I want you. I would be honored if you would consent to be my wife. I would give you anything you want—jewels, beautiful gowns, my estates.”
She was looking at him in a most unusual way. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words wouldn’t come out. And then he felt the sting of her hand across his cheek.
“I have never been so insulted in my—”
But Philip didn’t let her finish. He gathered her in his arms and silenced her words with a deep, penetrating kiss. He held her tightly against him, feeling her breasts pressed against his chest, crushing the breath from her body. She was struggling to free herself, but her efforts only increased his desire.
Then, unexpectedly, Christina went limp in his arms and threw him off guard. Philip thought she had fainted but winced when he felt a sharp pain in his shin. He released her instantly to grab his leg, and when he looked up, Christina was running into the drawing room.
He should have known better, Philip told himself.
He should have gone to her home in Halstead and courted her slowly. But that wasn’t his way. Besides, he had never courted a woman before. He was used to getting what he wanted immediately, and he wanted Christina.
A Gentle Feuding
Sheena Fergusson is the most prized beauty in Scotland. Every man wants to possess her—except for Jamie MacKinnion, the avowed enemy of her clan. But when the proud laird finally lays eyes on Sheena, his warrior’s heart is conquered by the ethereal magnificence of this woman.
James MacKinnion moved slowly. An enveloping mist still clung to the dewy ground, and he was sopping wet from crossing the second of the two Esk rivers. He was tired from lack of sleep and the rough ride south. There was something wrong in all this, but he didn’t know what it could be.
The mist swirled and parted before him in a gentle breeze, revealing for a moment a wooded glen not far ahead. Then the mist settled again, and the vision was gone. Jamie rode for it; the trees were a pleasant change from the barren moors and heather-clad hills.
He had never been this far east on Fergusson land before. He had never raided Lowlanders in the spring before, either.
Jamie’s anger warred with his common sense. Dead men demanded he ride to avenge them. A scrap of plaid demanded he ride south. Yet…why? He would have given anything for more evidence. The act bordered on insanity. Was he sure of what he was doing?
The mist was rising steadily as Jamie entered the wooded glen.
Then he heard a sound, and in a flash he slid off his horse and ran for cover. But when he listened again, he recognized the sound as a giggle, a feminine giggle.
Leaving his horse behind, he moved stealthily through the bracken and trees toward the sound.
When Jamie saw her, he wasn’t quite sure he believed the vision. A young girl was standing waist-deep in a small pool, the mist swirling about her head. She looked like a water sprite, a kelpie, unreal, yet real enough.
The girl laughed again as she splashed water across her naked breasts. The sound enchanted Jamie. He was mesmerized by the girl, rooted where he was, watching her play. She was frolicking and having a joyous time of it.
She was like nothing he had ever seen before, a beauty, and no mistake about it. In a moment she faced him, and he saw nearly all of her loveliness. Pearly white skin contrasted starkly with brilliant, deep red hair. Almost magenta, it was so dark and gleaming and long. Two strands waved around her breasts and floated in the water. And those breasts were tantalizing, round, high and proud in youthful glory, the peaks sharply pointed because of the caress of icy water. Her features were unmistakably delicate. The only thing not clear to Jamie was the color of her eyes. He was not quite close enough to see, and the reflection of the water made them appear a blue so clear and bright as to be glowing quite impossibly. Was his imagination running wild? He wanted to move closer and see.
What he really wanted was to join her in the water. It was an insane idea, born of the strange effect she was having on him. What if she let him come to her, let him touch her as he ached to do? He had to leave before common sense completely fled. As if to point out his folly in tarrying, the first rays of sun broke through the glen, showing him the time he had wasted. His brother and the others would have all returned to the men by the river. They would all be waiting for him.
Jamie was suddenly sickened. Watching the girl, being transported to what seemed a sphere outside reality, he was appalled by the contrast between the lovely scene before him and the bloody one he would see in just a short while. Yet he could no more stop the one that was soon to happen than he could forget the one he was watching. Both seemed inevitable.
Jamie’s last look at the girl was a wistful one. Beams of sunlight dotted the pool, and one touched the girl and lit her hair like a burst of flame. With a sigh, he turned away. That last vision of the mystical girl would be etched in his memory for a long time to come.
Love Only Once
With Love Only Once, Johanna Lindsey introduced her beloved Malory family. The romances of these outrageous and outspoken sensualists, set in the ever-popular Regency era, are pure magic. Nicholas Eden, the rakish fourth Viscount of Montieth, is as enchanted as readers during this first encounter with Regina Ashton. Having just discovered that he has accidentally kidnapped the Malory ingenue, he is now setting her free. But if he is expecting anger from his unintended hostage, he’s in for a surprise.
She stood framed by the window, gazing at him in a startlingly direct way. There was no shyness in her look and no fear either on that exquisite, delicate, heart-shaped face. The eyes were disturbing, with an exotic slant. Such dark blue eyes in that fair face, so blue and clear, like colored crystal. The lips were soft and full and the nose was straight and slender. A thick fringe of sooty lashes framed those extraordinary eyes, while black brows arched gently above them. Her hair was raven black, too, in tight little ringlets surrounding her face, giving her fair skin a glow like polished ivory.
She was breathtaking. The beauty didn’t stop with her face, either. She was petite, yes, but there was nothing childlike about her form. Firm young breasts pressed against the thin muslin of her rose gown. He wanted to pull the rose muslin down a few inches and watch those lovely breasts spring free. He received another jolt then, feeling his manhood rise against his will. Lord, he hadn’t lost control like that since his youth!
Desperate to bring everything under control, he cast about for something—anything—to say. “Hello.”
His tone implied “What have we we here?” and Reggie grinned despite herself. He was gorgeous, simply gorgeous. It wasn’t just his face, though that was striking. There was a sexual magnetism about him that was quite unnerving.
“Hello, yourself,” Reggie said impishly. “I was beginning to wonder when you would realize your mistake. You certainly took enough time about it.”
“I am just now wondering if I have in fact made a mistake at all. You don’t look like a mistake. You look very much like something I did right for a change.”
He quietly closed the door and leaned back against it, those beautiful amber eyes boldly moving over her from head to foot. It was not at all safe for a young lady to be alone with a man of his stamp, and Reggie recognized that. Yet for some reason she couldn’t fathom, she wasn’t afraid of this man. Scandalously, she wondered if it would be such a terrible thing to lose her virtue to him. Oh, it was a reckless mood she was suddenly in!
“I will if you will let me. Will you? Think carefully before you answer,” he said with a devastating smile. “My heart is in jeopardy.”
She giggled, delighted. “Stuff! Rakes like you don’t have hearts. Everyone knows that.”
Nicholas was enchanted.
Hearts Aflame
Kristen Haardrad has been imprisoned by the Saxon warlord Royce when her shipmates dared to attack Royce’s lands. The Viking maiden has been searching for a man who could stir her senses and make her blood sing, and now she’s finally found him in Royce. So with the full force of her Viking determination she sets out to win the heart and love of her captor.
Kristen had been stretching when she heard the steps crossing the floor, coming from the entrance. She jumped up curiously, her heartbeat quickening when she saw Royce coming out of the shadows, his direction not the stairs, but toward her, straight to her.
She did not move, waiting for him to reach her. His expression was intense, harsh, and her heart beat even faster, not in fear but in expectation. When he stopped, she felt only a moment’s surprise when his hand went to the back of her neck, his fingers gripping her hair to yank her head back. She held her breath as his eyes moved angrily over her face.
“Why do you tempt me so?” He asked this not of her but to himself.
“Do I, milord?”
“You do it apurpose,” he hissed before his mouth slashed down over hers.
Kristen had waited for this, to know the feel of lips, to be able to touch him. She had wanted this to happen, but she had not guessed how devastating the actuality would be. Nothing could have prepared her for such a violent jolt of desire, when she had never felt desire before.
His mouth moved over hers brutally in his anger. He gripped her hair, holding her still for this ravishment, yet he did not touch her otherwise. Kristen was the one to lean into him, until she could feel the full length of his body and know the extent of his desire. This inflamed her more. She didn’t care that this was not what he wanted, that he was kissing her against his own will, and probably hating her more because of it, she wrapped her arms around his back, moving her hands up over the hard muscle there until she gripped his shoulders, holding him tight to her.