The Tribute

by Beth Williamson

  “It even smells good in here.”

  Brett shut the door behind them and wrapped his arms around Alex. He buried his nose in her neck. “Not as good as you.”

  He kissed the side of her neck and ear, absorbing all that was Alex. He smelled her arousal as it rose as quickly as his did. His heart was full to bursting. He’d never expected life would give him so much. The ranch, his family, a good friend and Alex. She was everything.

  Brett remembered standing in this room after Jack had brought the beautiful furniture he’d made. He had wanted Alex there, and here she was, soft and warm in his arms. Soon they’d be married and every morning and every night they’d begin and end their days together in this room. Their private sanctuary against the world.

  Here he felt safe. He felt loved.

  He leaned down and pressed his lips against her ear and whispered, “I love you.”

  After a short intake of breath, she whispered, “I love you, too.”

  Brett turned her around and looked into her beautiful, brown eyes and saw his heart reflected back. She smiled and he knew everything would be all right.

  They undressed each other. Each button brought a kiss to the exposed skin. With the ease of two lovers who knew each others’ bodies, Brett and Alex caressed, teased and kissed until they lay naked on the new wedding quilt that adorned their soon-to-be marriage bed.

  Alex ran her hands through his hair. “Should we be doing this on the wedding quilt?”

  Brett pressed his mouth to hers and gave her a long, delicious kiss. When he pulled back, all humor had fled from her face. She looked like a woman in love, in lust, a woman who was all his. As he was hers.

  “Yes, we should. Even though we haven’t said the words with a preacher, you’re my wife, and I love you.”

  A sheen of tears filled her eyes. “I love you too, Brett. You take my breath away.”

  As his mouth descended again, he shut out the rest of the world. He didn’t hear anything but her breathing and the beat of her heart. He kissed his way across her jaw to her neck while cupping her breast. He rolled the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tweaking and teasing. He sucked her neck, a gentle bite, a lick, a kiss.

  Alex caressed his back, landing on his buttocks, squeezing. She moved closer, pressing his hardened flesh against her softness. Heaven, sweet, sweet heaven.

  “God you feel good,” he groaned.

  “I could say the same thing about you.”

  Before he knew it, he was flat on his back and she was above him. Her unbound hair brushed against his skin like a lover’s caress. He shivered in anticipation of what she’d do. After a quick hard kiss to the lips, Alex proceeded to kiss, lick and bite her way down his body, sending him into an arousal so strong blood rushed past his ears.

  Her tongue circled his bellybutton while her long-fingered hands stroked his inner thighs. Brett had an idea of what she was going to do and he about spilled his seed at the thought of it. She placed kisses all around his needy flesh and then her mouth finally closed around the head of his cock. He hissed in pleasure as heat ricocheted through him.

  “Oh, God, Alex, oh God.”

  She licked him from bottom to top then closed her hand around the breadth of him.

  “God surely did bless you, Brett. Perhaps I should say He blessed me.”

  Brett tried to chuckle but he found himself strangely paralyzed by her touch. Her pink lips opened and she took him into the hot, wet recess of her mouth, and he couldn’t think anymore.

  Her tongue, her lips, her teeth. She pleasured him with her mouth. It could have been two minutes; it could have been two hundred. He didn’t know. Time had no meaning. The sensations were amazing, shattering. If he wasn’t careful, her sweet ministrations would end his pleasure before she had hers.

  As much as it pained him to do so, the next time she pulled him out of her mouth, he put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. He wouldn’t be able to hold back any longer. The blood rushed around his body, leaving tingles in its wake. He’d never been so aroused or so pleasured in his life.

  “I need to be inside you, Alex. Please.”

  She glanced down at his cock glistening with the moisture from her tongue.

  “One more taste.” When she licked it one last time from top to bottom and squeezed his balls, Brett grabbed the sheets to keep from coming his brains out.

  With a grin she must have borrowed from Eve, Alex moved up and positioned herself over him. Inch by inch, he sank into her tight core. The throbbing in her pussy matched the pulse in his cock. Fast, hard, furious with need.

  The torture continued when she slid up and down slowly, nearly taking him out of her body before she descended again. Brett couldn’t handle the pace anymore.

  With a flip, she was beneath him, her legs spread wide, Brett’s cock firmly nestled inside her. She smiled and licked her lips.

  “Did it feel good?”

  “Oh, honey.” He leaned down and bit both of her nipples. “You have no idea.”

  She tightened around him, arching her back to offer up her breasts like a feast. Brett pleasured her while he thrust inside her, again and again. The frenzy of their joining seemed more like a mating, a branding of two souls, two hearts.

  He reached between them and flicked her hot button as his ecstasy reached its peak. Alex screamed his name and her legs closed around his hips, milking him, pulling him in deeper.

  The orgasm hit him so hard, his heart stuttered and his vision blurred. Wave after wave of the purest of pleasure crashed over him. He held onto her, riding the storm until the tremors passed.

  Breathing hard, he rolled off her and lay beside her, hands entwined.

  “I guess we christened this quilt.”

  Alex laughed and squeezed his hand. “You really are very funny, Brett Malloy.”

  “I wasn’t being funny.” He smiled at her and waggled his eyebrows. “I was only telling the truth.”

  With one last kiss, Alex tucked herself under his chin and snuggled beside him. Brett’s heart danced with joy at what he held in his arms.

  Life, it seemed, had finally begun.

  About the Author

  You can’t say cowboys without thinking of Beth Williamson. She likes ‘em hard, tall and packing. Read her work and discover for yourself how hot and dangerous a cowboy can be.

  Beth lives in North Carolina, with her husband and two sons. Born and raised in New York, she holds a B.F.A. in writing from New York University. She spends her days as a technical writer, and her nights immersed in writing hot romances for her readers.

  To learn more about Beth Williamson, please visit www.bethwilliamson.com. Send an email to Beth at beth@bethwilliamson.com, join her Yahoo! Group, http://groups.yahoo.com/group/cowboylovers, or sign up for Beth’s monthly newsletter, Sexy Spurs, http://www.crocodesigns.com/cgi-bin/dada/mail.cgi/list/spurs/

  Look for these titles by Beth Williamson

  Now Available:

  The Bounty

  The Prize

  The Reward

  The Treasure

  The Gift

  The Tribute

  Coming Soon:

  The Legacy

  Marielle’s Marshall

  Devils on Horseback: Nate

  Branded

  A princess on the run must complete a mystical quest in order to take her rightful place on her country’s throne

  Her Majesty, My Love

  © 2007 Sharon Long

  Available now at Samhain Publishing

  Princess Isabella Chastaine holds the fate of her tiny island nation in her hands. Literally. Escaping the men who murdered her parents, she flees to England with a sacred map outlining the location of ancient relics—items necessary for a new ruler to ascend the throne, items buried deep within the granite caves of her homeland.

  Simon Rothmore, Earl of Merrick, has faithfully served the English crown since his recruitment into an elite secret agency. His newest task, deciphering the puzzling assassin
ations of the royal family of Leaudor, leads him to the only remaining member...Princess Isabella.

  Betrayed by those closest to her and deeply suspicious of possible English involvement, Isabella vows to return to her country and seek justice for her family. She will allow no one, especially not an arrogant English earl, to interfere in her quest.

  But love has a way of uniting even the most unlikely souls. Together, they travel across two countries, encounter painful betrayals, complete a mystical quest, and forge a new destiny neither had dreamed possible.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Her Majesty, My Love.

  Simon left the captain’s cabin and strode toward Isabella’s. He paused a moment outside her door, wondering if he wasn’t better served to let her rest. No, she would want to know exactly what was going to occur at the earliest possible moment.

  He knocked softly and waited for her response. Almost immediately the door swung open and she stood before him. She presented a glorious sight, a nightshirt clipping the top of her knees, her long, disheveled hair thrown carelessly over one shoulder.

  And she looked glad to see him.

  She stepped away from the door and gestured for him to come in. As he stepped over the threshold, she shut the door firmly behind him.

  “If you’ll excuse me but a moment while I dress,” she said, stepping behind a dressing screen secured to the wall.

  He watched as she threw the nightshirt over the top of the screen and clenched his jaw as he imagined her naked behind it. Why was he torturing himself? He shifted uncomfortably and sat down on the edge of the bed, hoping to at least disguise the extent of his discomfort.

  Seconds later, she reappeared from behind the screen dressed in a clean shirt and breeches. She smoothed her hands down the legs of her pants and crossed the room to where he sat.

  “How are you faring this morning?” she asked.

  He could detect a hint of nervousness in her voice and wondered if she was as affected by his presence as he was hers. With a mental shake of his head, he directed his thoughts to the matter at hand.

  “I’ve spoken to the captain. We should be in Leaudor by tomorrow evening.”

  He quickly recounted all the captain had told him then watched as she absorbed his words.

  “It’s a sound plan,” she admitted, chewing the bottom of her lip in concentration. “And we shouldn’t have far to travel to the monastery depending on where we come ashore.”

  “You intend to visit the monastery first?” he asked in surprise. He had assumed she hasten to the palace.

  “I must see Father Ling first. He can tell me if Jacques has been successful in recovering the relics. He can also tell us exactly what has been going on since the deaths of my family,” she said after a deep breath.

  “How far is the monastery from the palace?” he asked.

  “Not terribly far by horse,” she replied. “The monastery lies on the western coast. The monks are said to be the keepers of the caves so the entrance is not far from the monastery. The palace is further inland atop Soleil Mountain.”

  Mountains, caves—it all sounded difficult, not to mention treacherous. He felt a twinge of doubt nag at him. How could he and Isabella go against an unknown number of forces, practically take on an entire nation to right the wrongs against her family?

  Montagne had gathered much support according to the captain, and Isabella’s claims might well fall on deaf ears. And the fact that an Englishman was aiding her might lend further credence to the conspiracy theory Montagne was spewing.

  He said a fervent prayer that Kirk was successful in thwarting any escape attempt by Bonaparte. If that was indeed in the works, his failure to leave Elba could signal difficulties for Bonaparte sympathizers in Leaudor.

  “Do you regret agreeing to help me?” she asked softly.

  “No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “Not at all, it’s my duty,” he rushed to say. His tongue seemed to rebel against him as he faltered to get the words out.

  Her face fell then she stiffened beside him. Rising, she glanced back at him with those unreadable eyes he hadn’t seen since their first days together. “Yes, well, you mustn’t be remiss in your duty.”

  She was bothered by something, but damned if he knew what it was. Perhaps she was growing more worried as they drew closer to her country.

  “We will find the people responsible for your parents’ deaths,” he said in an attempt to reassure her once more. It was what she wanted to hear no doubt, something to bolster her flagging confidence.

  But her expression remained stoic. “Yes, I know,” she said in a slightly clipped tone.

  Her entire body was stiff and she flipped agitatedly at her hair. Annoyance burned in her eyes, and he realized perhaps she thought he was hinting that she was incapable of seeking justice. Instead of offering more platitudes, which he was sure would annoy her, he closed his mouth and remained silent.

  A knock sounded at the door, and he immediately rose, but Isabella beat him to the door. A young man stood bearing a breakfast tray and handed it over to Isabella.

  She smiled and thanked him then carried the tray over to the bed. “Have you eaten?” she asked as she uncovered the bread, cheese and a steaming meat pie.

  “Yes, earlier with the captain.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “Should you not have summoned me so that I could be present when the captain presented his plan?”

  The imperious tone had returned, and it made him wretchedly uncomfortable. Not only did it outline in stark detail the vast distance between them, but it represented a coldness between them that hadn’t existed until now.

  “You may be certain in the future I will not make such a mistake, Your Highness.”

  A flicker of hurt flashed in her eyes but was gone in a second. He felt instant regret, but her demeanor hurt him, though he was loathe to admit it. “I should return to my cabin now,” he said in a low voice.

  He walked out the door before she could say anything. Perhaps going above deck would clear his head.

  ———

  Simon stayed as far from Isabella’s cabin as he could for the remainder of the day. The air was crisp, and the sea breeze stout, but the coldness kept his mind focused.

  He watched the sun sink over the horizon, reflecting gold against the pink and purple hues that had long since replaced the blue canvas. In the twilight, he could make out the first stars as they appeared in the darkening sky. Soon the moon would rise and night would fall. The last night before an uncertain tomorrow.

  Whatever accounted for Isabella’s curtness, he wanted to correct it before they left the ship. They had encountered far too much together, and he wanted the same trust and easy rapport between them when they embarked on the next leg of their quest.

  His hands gripped the side railing of the ship as he steadied himself over a swell. For the first time, the idea of success didn’t fill him with satisfaction. For once he disposed of the threats against Isabella, she would become queen and he would return to England. The likelihood of even seeing her again was slim.

  There was only tonight.

  Drawing his shoulders up, he turned and walked back to Isabella’s cabin. He stood for several long seconds outside the door, debating whether to knock or just go in. His determination fueled his courage, and he opened the door in one motion, stepping in before he waited for her summons.

  His jaw dropped when he saw her standing across the room in front of the washbasin. She turned when she heard him, just as surprised as he was. She dropped the cloth she had been washing herself with and returned his stare.

  Her long hair fell in waves to her waist and swayed with her motion. Slender, bare legs slid seductively from beneath her shirt, and the shirt was parted giving him the barest peek of the swells of her breast. His gaze daren’t go lower. He locked onto her face, feeling foolish for barging in unannounced.

  “My apologies,” he finally to say around a tongue that didn’t seem to want to cooperate.
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  But before he could turn and go, she reached up and gripped the lapels of her shirt in her hands and slowly pulled them over her shoulders, baring her breasts to his avid gaze. Her eyes locked with his, and he read insecurity, nervousness and desire within their depths. Then she shrugged from the shirt and let it fall in a pool at her feet.

  She’s a princess desperate for a husband. He’s a duke…or is he?

  A Beautiful Surrender

  © 2007 Brenda Williamson

  Available now at Samhain Publishing

  With her uncle poised to steal her kingdom, Princess Katerina must marry. Miraculously, a new handsome duke appears on the scene. His sexy charm makes her tingle from head to toe. But can she overlook his arrogance?

  The future of Dax’s country is at stake. Forced to masquerade as a duke to seduce Katerina and prevent her from marrying, he courts the princess with great success. But when someone tries to kill Katerina, his instincts are to protect the passionate lady no matter the cost.

  With Dax’s deception revealed and her life at risk, can Katerina still surrender her heart?

  Enjoy the following excerpt for A Beautiful Surrender:

  Dax hadn’t expected the princess to be beautiful. He knew nothing of Katerina when he came to Alluvia and beyond her appearance, she had an inner quality he found appealing—loneliness. He identified it well from experience. She wanted someone to cherish her for herself and not for her position or wealth. That awareness made him feel off balance dealing with her, because he wanted the very same for himself.

  “Was your journey here uneventful, Your Grace?” the princess asked, not responding to his bid for a more personal acquaintance.

  “Won’t you even try to call me Dax?” He slipped his arm around her back and drew her against him as if they were going to dance on the sidelines of the ballroom.

  “I’m sorry, Your Grace, but it would not be proper for me to address you so informally, nor is it appropriate for you to hold me this close.”