WILD BLOOD

by Naomi Horton

  Jett grinned. "Two o'clock feedings. Colic. Diaper rash. Toilet training. Oh, yeah. All that good stuff."

  Kathleen laughed. "I'm game if you are, Sundance."

  "Old Gord's got a pretty good lead on this dynasty-building thing," he drawled.

  "Well," Kathleen said very reasonably, walking backward to the bed with Jett's hands in hers, "I guess that means we'll just have to work a little harder."

  "Amen to that." His shirt sailed across the room, landing in a heap, and a moment later, Kathleen's lovely silk and lace negligee floated through the air to land beside it.

  And Jett, tumbling back across the bed with his arms full of soft female flesh and Kathy's delighted laughter ringing around him, could have sworn he heard the singing of angels. Or maybe it was just his own wild heart…

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