this perfect fall day, he’d kissed her with that old urgent fire, looked at her with that dark smoldering gaze, pressed her to his hard male body and made her weak with love and wanting.
“Hey, Sullivan.” Someone shouting his name snapped Kay’s head around. “Why isn’t your partner riding with you?”
Kay’s eyes went to the commanding figure regally sitting on a huge black horse, as Sullivan advanced On the slow-moving float. Kay swallowed and clutched at the polished saloon bar, her wide eyes on dark horse and dark rider.
Hat tilted strategically low over one eye, white teeth flashing, Sullivan easily reined the prancing, silver-embellished black stallion along the slippery pavement, moving steadily closer. To the waving, admiring crowd, he shouted in that deep, melodious voice, “You know, I think my pretty partner should be with me at all times.” His eyes gleamed devilishly and Kay colored, reading a personal meaning into his careless words.
Sullivan pulled the horse up, draped a white-sleeved forearm over the saddle horn and with a slow turn of his head, directed his attention, and that of the crowd, to a nervous, smiling Kay.
When Sullivan winked and tipped his hat to the crowd, straightened in the saddle and unhooked a coiled lariat from its resting place, the crowd went wild.
Showboating grandly, Sullivan let the coiled rope slide down over a bent arm, drew a cigarette from his shirt pocket, lit it and exhaled. Kay, along with everyone else, had eyes only for the compelling man so easily, expertly playing his role.
“Yup,” he drawled dramatically, “I think that little filly belongs in the custody of the marshal, just for being so danged brazenly beautiful. Don’t ya’ll?”
Loud, urging applause and piercing whistles were his answer.
Clamping his cigarette firmly between his teeth, Sullivan nodded, wrapped the reins around the horn and knee-reined his big, well-trained stallion toward the Q102 float and Kay. He uncoiled the rope, made a large loop and began twirling it high over his head. All the while, he looked directly at Kay; cigarette smoke drifting up into his dark, squinting eyes.
Kay, as impressed with his performance as was the cheering crowd, completely forgot about lifting her arms over her head. Heart racing rapidly, she was torn between the urgent desire to be held close to Sullivan and the fear she had of horses. She sat frozen in place, green dress glittering, mesh-hosed legs crossed, silver hair shining in the unfiltered rays of the Colorado sun.
When a perfectly thrown rope fell over her head and tightened as soon as it reached her waist, Kay blinked and winced. Arms pinned to her sides, she felt as helpless as a trapped butterfly. Sullivan urged his horse closer, lithely stood in the saddle, and in one fast, fluid movement, plucked Kay from the saloon bar.
Someone softly screamed and Kay realized it must have been her when Sullivan, tossing his half-smoked cigarette away, gently pressed her back against his chest and said softly into her ear, “Don’t be afraid, Kay. I’d never let you fall.”
Five
Sullivan didn’t let Kay fall, but he sure did let her down. The parade continued and she sat across the saddle in front of him. Kay was happy, hopeful, unafraid. Sullivan, after deftly removing the rope, held Kay in his arms while they rode the prancing horse down the street.
Kay forgot her fear of horses and waved gaily to the cheering crowd. How could she be frightened; the man she loved was holding her in his protective arms.
The dazzling smiles she gave the crowd reflected the bubbling happiness inside. Kay was sure that as soon as the parade ended, as soon as she and Sullivan could be alone…
Stomach fluttering, eyes sparkling, Kay, female that she was, mentally planned what she would wear on this evening of evenings. There was no doubt in her mind that Sullivan would want to take her out to dinner or to come to her place for a meal. Good Lord, she had
“Hey, Sullivan.” Someone shouting his name snapped Kay’s head around. “Why isn’t your partner riding with you?”
Kay’s eyes went to the commanding figure regally sitting on a huge black horse, as Sullivan advanced On the slow-moving float. Kay swallowed and clutched at the polished saloon bar, her wide eyes on dark horse and dark rider.
Hat tilted strategically low over one eye, white teeth flashing, Sullivan easily reined the prancing, silver-embellished black stallion along the slippery pavement, moving steadily closer. To the waving, admiring crowd, he shouted in that deep, melodious voice, “You know, I think my pretty partner should be with me at all times.” His eyes gleamed devilishly and Kay colored, reading a personal meaning into his careless words.
Sullivan pulled the horse up, draped a white-sleeved forearm over the saddle horn and with a slow turn of his head, directed his attention, and that of the crowd, to a nervous, smiling Kay.
When Sullivan winked and tipped his hat to the crowd, straightened in the saddle and unhooked a coiled lariat from its resting place, the crowd went wild.
Showboating grandly, Sullivan let the coiled rope slide down over a bent arm, drew a cigarette from his shirt pocket, lit it and exhaled. Kay, along with everyone else, had eyes only for the compelling man so easily, expertly playing his role.
“Yup,” he drawled dramatically, “I think that little filly belongs in the custody of the marshal, just for being so danged brazenly beautiful. Don’t ya’ll?”
Loud, urging applause and piercing whistles were his answer.
Clamping his cigarette firmly between his teeth, Sullivan nodded, wrapped the reins around the horn and knee-reined his big, well-trained stallion toward the Q102 float and Kay. He uncoiled the rope, made a large loop and began twirling it high over his head. All the while, he looked directly at Kay; cigarette smoke drifting up into his dark, squinting eyes.
Kay, as impressed with his performance as was the cheering crowd, completely forgot about lifting her arms over her head. Heart racing rapidly, she was torn between the urgent desire to be held close to Sullivan and the fear she had of horses. She sat frozen in place, green dress glittering, mesh-hosed legs crossed, silver hair shining in the unfiltered rays of the Colorado sun.
When a perfectly thrown rope fell over her head and tightened as soon as it reached her waist, Kay blinked and winced. Arms pinned to her sides, she felt as helpless as a trapped butterfly. Sullivan urged his horse closer, lithely stood in the saddle, and in one fast, fluid movement, plucked Kay from the saloon bar.
Someone softly screamed and Kay realized it must have been her when Sullivan, tossing his half-smoked cigarette away, gently pressed her back against his chest and said softly into her ear, “Don’t be afraid, Kay. I’d never let you fall.”
Five
Sullivan didn’t let Kay fall, but he sure did let her down. The parade continued and she sat across the saddle in front of him. Kay was happy, hopeful, unafraid. Sullivan, after deftly removing the rope, held Kay in his arms while they rode the prancing horse down the street.
Kay forgot her fear of horses and waved gaily to the cheering crowd. How could she be frightened; the man she loved was holding her in his protective arms.
The dazzling smiles she gave the crowd reflected the bubbling happiness inside. Kay was sure that as soon as the parade ended, as soon as she and Sullivan could be alone…
Stomach fluttering, eyes sparkling, Kay, female that she was, mentally planned what she would wear on this evening of evenings. There was no doubt in her mind that Sullivan would want to take her out to dinner or to come to her place for a meal. Good Lord, she had
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