“You.”
“Then why in the hell are we standing here arguing?”
Frustration and pain lanced through his proud features. “Because, dammit! Haven’t you heard a thing I’ve been saying? I can’t promise you anything!”
“Have I asked you for a promise?” she shouted right back. “I don’t recall needing a promise before deciding to spend three months of my life learning about ranching because I knew that’s what you wanted to do.”
“And what if this doesn’t pan out? What then, Annie? Don’t pin your dreams on me. I’ll disappoint you.” His anger fled as suddenly as it had appeared. He pulled her into his embrace, and when he spoke, his voice was choked with emotion. “I’ve barely managed to survive these past five months by telling myself you’d gone back to your life. That you were happy. I don’t think I could survive trying, and failing you.”
She ran a trembling hand down his face. “But I’m not happy. What you do for a living isn’t what made me work so hard to find you. It was a means to an end. It’s you, Kane. Whatever you are, wherever you go. It’s you that I need to be happy.” Her voice broke. “Only you.”
Tears brimmed over his thick black lashes. “What did I ever do to deserve someone like you, little sun?”
“You came to me, offered your protection, your support, your shoulder, your friendship. Your life.”
“You forgot one thing,” he whispered roughly.
“What?”
“My heart, I gave you my heart. I love you, Elizabeth Ann Lawson. I love you, little sun.”
Elizabeth jumped up and held on to his shoulders so her face was even with his. “I love you,” she whispered fiercely, the words interspersed with kisses on his cheeks and forehead until he lowered her so their mouths fit together.
He kissed her long and hard, soft and sweet. He finally lifted his head so they could both take in some much-needed air. “I will make you a promise.”
“I’m not—”
“I want to. I may not do this right, and I can guarantee things won’t always be easy. But little sun, I promise I will always, always give you the best that I have in me to give.”
“Then that’s the very best I could have hoped for. The same goes for me, you know.”
“But I’ll warn you,” he said hoarsely, “I’m new at this. It will probably take me years. Sixty or seventy, at least.”
“Wait a minute, I have something else to give you.” He lowered her to her feet. The feel of his body rubbing along hers almost made her forget her intention, but she forced her mind back to her purpose.
Reaching inside her blouse, she tugged the leather necklace free. Finally. “I don’t think I’ll need this to keep me safe any longer.”
He took the amulet and stared at it for a long moment, then abruptly lifted her into his arms. He stalked down the hall into a partially completed room that was furnished only with a bed. A very big, very old looking four-poster bed.
“This was Cloud Dancer’s. I’ve had it in storage for so many years …” Kane looked down at her again, still truly stunned. For the second time, his life had been turned upside down and changed forever. For the better. Both times it was due to the woman, this woman in his arms, who actually loved him. All of him. Kane Hawthorne. Eyes of the Hawk.
He moved to the top of the bed and draped the amulet over the corner of the only decoration in the entire room—a large silver frame sitting above his headboard.
In it was the picture of her at age seven, standing proudly next to Matt under the Lazy F sign.
On the other corner of the frame hung an exact replica of the necklace he’d given her.
She smiled up at him. “I think maybe you had faith in us all along.”
He smiled. The full, sexy, breathtaking smile she’d only seen once before. She decided then and there that she would see it again. Often.
“Maybe you’re right. That one belonged to my bi’a, my mother. Cloud Dancer made it for her.” He nodded at the one he’d just added. “That is the one my bi’a made for me.”
“Your mother? Oh, Hawk.”
He saw the tears trip over her lashes and felt his own eyes burn. “I love you,” he whispered.
She reached for him, opening her mouth to his as he lowered her to the bed, then turned and pulled her on top of him. Her weight felt wonderful, perfect, cradled between his hips. His body responded, he was so hard with the need to reclaim his place in her warmth that he wasn’t certain he’d make it past removing his clothes.
“Annie,” he whispered, then bit down softly on her ear. She squirmed deliciously on him, making him groan. “Last time …”
“I know,” she said, her voice as breathless as his.
“But this … This time, I want to take it slow.” He lifted his head and framed her face in his hands. “I want to know every inch of you, little sun. Taste you, touch you.”
“Yes. Me too. Every inch of you.” She slid her hand down over his chest. “Touch you,” she breathed against his lips. “Taste you.”
Kane lost control. He closed the distance, sinking his tongue deeply into her mouth. His hands moved over her. All over her.
“To hell with taking it slow,” she growled in his ear.
Kane smiled against her lips. “Little sun,” he said, “we aren’t leaving this room until hunger or thirst drives us out.”
“Could take hours.”
“I was thinking more like days. Two. Maybe three.”
She writhed against him, pulling at his shirt. “Maybe by then we’ll have figured out how to do this slowly.”
Through clenched teeth he said, “Then again, maybe not.”
She reached up and raked her fingers through his hair. “Tu’pambe,” she murmured silkily.
Kane’s chest swelled, and his heart tightened. Lord, it was a lucky man who’d be blessed with hearing the sweet sound of Annie’s voice each morning for the rest of his life.
Damn but he’d be forever grateful that man was him.
He suddenly realized what she’d called him. Tu’pambe. Shoshone for black hair. He remembered what she’d said earlier. “You really did go to the reservation.”
“Mmm-hmm,” she mumbled as she started to undo the buttons of his shirt.
“Waipe,” he said.
“Woman,” she responded, as if he was quizzing her.
Unable not to, he whispered, “Gwu’aho.”
She immediately lifted her head to look into his face. “Wife,” she said softly, her eyes bright with hope.
“Another new dream,” he admitted roughly. When her eyes turned wary, he tightened his arm around her. “But only until I can find a preacher.”
He was rewarded with a fierce kiss, and returned it wholeheartedly. “There’s one thing this tu’pambe needs to know first.”
“Anything.”
“I want to know if it’s true what they say?”
“About what?”
He raked her curls back into her face, reveling in every scent, taste, and texture that was her. “About blondes having more fun.”
She tossed her head back, then slid her toes slowly up his calves. “I’m not certain. But I know a great way to find out.”
THE EDITOR’S CORNER
Welcome to Loveswept!
Happy New Year! Kick off 2013 with an e-original from Loveswept: debut author Wendy Vella’s sexy romance THE RELUCTANT COUNTESS–our second historical release! Set amongst the intrigues and scandals of London society, Sophie Countess of Monmouth is forced into playing a dangerous game to secure both her and her brother’s futures. She fears if anyone is to unmask and find the truth to her charade it will be the persistent Earl of Coulter, who is led to believe as well as the rest of the town that Sophie is recently widowed. Overly curious to the rumors that surround the Countess and even more enchanted by her beauty, Patrick is compelled to uncover the facts surrounding the mysterious Countess of Monmouth. I can’t wait for this release!
And we have more fantasti
c books for you to start the new year. Donna Kauffman’s exhilarating WILD RAIN, Karen Leabo’s passionate Brides of Destiny story MILLICENT’S MEDICINE MAN, and three absorbing books from Linda Cajio: SILK ON THE SKIN, HARD HABIT TO BREAK, and THE RELUCTANT PRINCE.
If you love romance … then you’re ready to be Loveswept!
Gina Wachtel
Associate Publisher
P.S. Watch for these terrific Loveswept titles coming soon: In February, we have another alluring e-original for you, Sharon Cullen’s THE NOTORIOUS LADY JANE, Patricia Olney’s touching and funny JADE’S GAMBLE, Linda Cajio’s sexy STRICTLY BUSINESS, Sally Goldenbaum’s wonderful A DREAM TO CLING TO, and two enticing books from Sandra Chastain, LOVE AND A BLUE-EYED COWBOY and MIDNIGHT FANTASY. March brings some classics you’ll want to read: Patricia Olney’s moving and funny STILL MR. AND MRS., Juliana Garnet’s compelling and sensual THE BARON, Jean Stone’s exceptional and heartwarming FIRST LOVES, Linda Cajio’s extraordinary UNFORGETTABLE, and beloved author Iris Johansen’s brilliant AN UNEXPECTED SONG. Don’t miss any of these extraordinary reads. I promise that you’ll fall in love and treasure these stories for years to come.…
Read on for excerpts from more Loveswept titles…
Read on for an excerpt from Samantha Kane’s
The Devil’s Thief
London, June 5, 1817
Chapter One
The faint, metallic screech sounded as loud as thunder in the oppressive silence of the dark bedroom. Julianna froze, silhouetted by the moonlight against the back wall, the sudden noise stealing her breath away.
“Unless you care to be shot this evening, I wouldn’t move from where you’re standing.” The deep voice was quiet but firm and it came from the shadows of the big bed.
Julianna remained still as a statue, her mind awhirl. For a moment all was silent, but then she heard the bedsheets rustle and the mattress groan. She cast her eyes toward the bed, afraid to move even an inch. She could see from the man’s outline that he was now leaning against the headboard. His arm appeared to be resting on his upraised knee, but it was too dark to tell whether or not he was actually holding a gun.
“You’re probably wondering if I do indeed have a gun,” he said nonchalantly, and Julianna had to suppress a gasp. How did he know? She closed her eyes and pursed her lips in annoyance at herself. Of course he knew. It’s what any halfway intelligent person would be thinking if they were discovered in her position.
“Let me reassure you that the answer is yes.”
His reassurance was hardly necessary, since she had already concluded that to be the case. In her experience, gentlemen were alarmingly odd, at least in most respects, so it was no surprise that this one apparently slept with a gun. Given his wild and reckless reputation, it would perhaps be more surprising if he did not.
He snorted inelegantly from the bed, which amused Julianna in spite of the dangerous situation she was in. In that moment he didn’t sound at all like the Honorable r. Alasdair Sharp to whom she’d recently been introduced, but very much like an annoyed schoolmaster.
“Stand up, for God’s sake,” Mr. Sharp ordered from the bed. “You look like a caricature of a thief, hunched over and creeping along the wall.”
Julianna started to straighten and she heard another rustle from the bed.
“Slowly,” Mr. Sharp admonished, and she froze again for a moment before straightening very, very slowly.
“And now you must tell me what you found so irresistible in my bedroom in the middle of the night.”
Julianna heard the amusement in his voice and it irritated her. So he found her amusing, did he?
The slight weight in the secret pocket of her shirt burned into her side like a brand as she faced him. “Let me reassure you that it was the Stewart Pearl I found irresistible,” she retorted, “and nothing else.”
As soon as she spoke she could have bitten off her tongue. Why, oh why did she always open her mouth before thinking things through? Surely he would recognize her now.
“You’re a woman,” Mr. Sharp exclaimed in shock.
Julianna closed her eyes in despair at her own foolishness. If she had kept her mouth shut, he wouldn’t have figured that out so quickly, maybe not at all. She was dressed in dark trousers and a dark shirt, her hair pinned up. In the dark she was certain she could pass for a man. The waning crescent moon outside barely gave enough light for him to see her. Even though her outburst had given away her sex, she refused to confirm it by answering him. She was light-headed with relief that he had not recognized her voice.
“I thought you looked a little short for a man,” he mused, “but I imagined that you were an apprentice thief or some such thing. It never entered my head that you might be a woman.”
Julianna had to press her lips together not to make a disparaging comment about the contents of his head, since it was clear he had no idea who she was. It wouldn’t be wise in this situation, although it was her natural inclination.
“Cat got your tongue, Miss Thief?” he asked, and Julianna shivered. She was not afraid of him—rather, she was afraid that she was losing control of the situation and of herself.
He shoved the covers aside and rose from the bed, and Julianna almost squeaked in alarm. He was naked. The pale moonlight flowing through the open window fell across the floor at an angle, and as he stood next to the bed, the light shone on his very naked body, illuminating him from his flat stomach to his bare feet.
His face was still covered in shadow, but Julianna remembered it from the many times she had seen him leaving his house and walking down the street, not to mention the party she had attended the other night. Mr. Sharp was a descendent of the Stewarts, all right: tall, handsome, with a high forehead and spectacular blue eyes. He looked just as the eyewitness accounts had described Bonnie Prince Charlie. She should have known from his firm, pointed chin that he wouldn’t be an easy mark. But she’d been distracted by his silky blond curls and those eyes, not to mention the width of his shoulders. Oh, yes, and, more important, the Stewart Pearl. At the party she had barely been able to take her eyes off the famous pearl, which sat in solitary splendor in a glass case surrounded by candelabra—gleaming, pale, and round and begging to be stolen.
“So you want my pearl, do you?” he asked, his voice smooth and suggestive.
Julianna’s gaze darted up to his shadowed face, but she could see nothing. The anger and amusement in his voice, however, had been replaced by something else. Something that made her distinctly nervous, considering that he was naked and she was caught.
He slowly moved toward her. As he approached, she saw that he was indeed holding a pistol. She wasn’t all that knowledgeable about guns, but at that moment her primary concern was that the gun might contain a bullet, and she really did not care to be shot this evening. When he stopped in front of her, Julianna couldn’t take her eyes away from the gun.
She was so intent on the pistol, she was startled when she felt his finger under her chin, urging her gaze upward. She met his eyes and a measure of her fear must have shown on her face.
“I don’t need this, do I?” he murmured, lowering the pistol. Julianna vehemently shook her head. He smiled at her response, and then released the trigger gently. He leaned over and set the gun down on a nearby table. Julianna was so relieved, she leaned back against the wall, her knees weak.
“Why do you want my pearl?” he asked quietly. He reached out and gently brushed a fallen lock of hair off her cheek, his finger trailing along from her forehead to her jaw.
He was so close and so unguarded, and a dozen scenarios of how she could escape this unfortunate situation flashed through Julianna’s mind. But each one ended in violence, and she found herself strangely unwilling to attack him. He had put the gun down, as foolish as that might have been, which represented a modicum of trust that she did not want to betray. The truth was, her odds of escaping were fairly slim. The only feasible exit was the window, and it was too far away to make it there wit
hout being caught. And if she ran, this odd truce would surely be at an end.
“I need the money.” She surprised herself by answering his question. Although surely the answer should have been obvious to him. Why else would someone steal something?
That wicked finger of his trailed down her neck and pushed open the collar of her shirt. He slowly and very lightly rubbed the pad of his finger along her collarbone and Julianna shivered. She should not, absolutely should not, be letting him do that. But it felt delicious, and no man had ever touched her like that. No man had ever gotten close enough to do so. She supposed she should protest his familiarity, but the circumstances were not in her favor. And really, what was she going to do to stop him? If she wanted to, that is.
“Do you?”
His murmured words did strange things to Julianna’s insides. She’d found men attractive before, but she’d never desired one. She shook her head at her wayward thoughts. No, no. That way led to trouble. If she’d learned anything from her father’s devious romantic entanglements, it was that. Desire was one thing; surrendering to it, and the potentially disastrous consequences, was quite another thing entirely.
“No? You don’t need the money?” He stopped rubbing along her collarbone, and Julianna felt the skin and muscles there tighten and jump in protest. Surely that was not good.
“No,” she said loudly, and his head jerked back a little in surprise. Julianna blinked rapidly and then shook her head again. She was so completely out of her depth in this situation that his mere touch confused her. “I mean, yes, yes I do need the money. For rent, you see.”
She winced at her garbled explanation. Could she possibly sound any more foolish? It would be better if she just kept silent.
“Are you desperate, poppet?” he murmured. He was looking at her oddly, his head tipped to the side. His finger resumed its exploration of her collarbone, adding a new twist as he dragged it down one side of her deep, open shirt collar and back up the other side. Julianna shivered and bit her lip to suppress a whimper. “How desperate? I wonder,” he said, and Julianna wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or to himself.
Bounty Hunter Page 17
