Let Me Love You by Mary Wine Page A

composure she’d dredged up. Her face turned red, this time with her temper. Wrath might be a deadly sin, but at that moment she was a little more interested in handing out a well-deserved thrashing to the thieves who’d stolen her hard work. Most of the fruit had come by way of trade. It was the same as lifting coin out of her purse. A hard hand curled around her upper arm as she rose onto her toes to peer at the few remaining jars in her pantry.
    “That glass will cut your feet.”
    Sloan gave her a tug and she stumbled right back into the middle of the cabin. A hiss escaped her lips as she faced another dilemma brought on by last night’s robbery. Food and now shoes, both were necessities. But providing them would prove hard with the river full of ice today. The best she might hope for was hiding the worry seeping into her brain from Sloan. Poor comfort but better than nothing.
    “I’ll pull down some of my old shoes.” Her gaze landed on the rifle resting in the gun rack over her father’s bed. She’d pull the weapon down first. She couldn’t count on luck to save her life again, so that left cold steel. Sloan didn’t miss where her attention went.
    “You know how to use that?”
    Brianna nodded. She forced her head to move in a firm gesture because she couldn’t afford to be timid. Paying the bank note on the mill was apparently not the only hurdle she had to clear in order to maintain her home.
    “I’ll manage.”
    A harsh snarl startled her. Jerking her eyes off the rifle, she looked at Sloan. Heavy disapproval darkened his face. “You need to pack up and move into town for the winter. Today. I’ll bring a buckboard around to help you.”
    “No, thank you.” Her spine straightened with the aid of her temper. “I’ll manage just fine.”
    “Like you did last night?” Sloan scowled, but it only reinforced her determination. She was not going to collapse into his care.
    “That’s right, Sloan McAlister.” Her hands propped on her hips as she stood firm. “Last night I managed to make sure I didn’t end up violated and murdered. Rather decent accomplishments if I do praise my own efforts.”
    Sloan snaked a hand back out and captured her wrist. He held it secure in his grasp for a long moment, showing her that she didn’t have the strength to escape. He yanked her forward and she tumbled into his hard body as he clamped his arm around her waist to hold her captive against him. He cupped her chin and raised her head up until their eyes met. She felt his breath hit her lips as he leaned down towards her.
    “Sure about that, Brianna? There’s not a whole lot more to bed sport than you ended up getting last night from me. You were on your back with my hand between your thighs.”
    She slapped him. Her palm cracked across his face as her eyes flared with outrage. He didn’t turn his head to ease the force of her blow but kept his eyes locked on her face.
    “Stop trying to scare me, Sloan. You’re a better man than that. Maybe not a gentlemen, but you don’t lack integrity. Don’t shame your mother.”
    An angry handprint appeared on his skin but he didn’t flinch or slacken his grip on her. Brianna stared at him, unwilling to back down. Something inside her refused to believe he was anything less than a decent man. She couldn’t bear the disappointment of finding out otherwise.
    “I told you not to trust me, honey.”
    The endearment stoked the fire that had begun in his cabin. She melted against him, her curves some sort of perfect fit against his harder male body. Smoothing her fingers over the red spot where she’d struck him, she enjoyed the sensation that rippled down her arm from the skin-to-skin contact. “Trust isn’t something you decide about, Sloan. You can just walk out the door, too, if you’ve got the notion to turn your back and forget you ever laid eyes on me. I didn’t decide to trust you, it just grew somewhere inside me. A lot like the idea that I like the way you