drawing her closer against his tall, ungiving frame, aggressively insinuating his hard muscled thigh between her legs in a shockingly blatant gesture of intimacy. She made a fleeting little sound of censure, but his arms only tightened around her. He deepened the kiss, and her soft, pliant body quite naturally sought the heat and hardness of his.
Shocked by his bold behavior, even more shocked by her own, the princess was impotent against the sensual onslaught. This tall Texan was kissing her as she’d never been kissed before, and for a long, shameful moment she was totally powerless against him. Momentarily suspended in that wonderfully thrilling state of escalating sexual excitement, logical thought had slipped away, unseated by simple, basic need. She was swept away by a primal hunger she’d never known was a part of her. Helplessly she responded to Black’s burning caresses before finally managing to regain her temporarily lost senses.
A little of her equilibrium returning, she tore her kiss-scorched lips from his and began to fight him. Struggling to free herself from his embrace, she scolded in a voice shaky with emotion, “Are you mad! You let me go you—you—maniac!”
His tone flat, even, Virgil said, “Ah, come off it, Red. What is it really? You still miffed because I went to sleep on you?”
Continuing to struggle within his arms, she shouted, “You are insane! As mad as a hatter! I have never seen you before in my life, and you have never seen me!”
Virgil Black shrugged wide shoulders and abruptly released her. “It won’t work, baby. Pretend to be anyone you please, but we both know damned well who you are. You’re a beautiful thief and you are going to jail, just like your accomplice, British Bob.”
Backing away from him, she shook her head. “I know of no one called British Bob.”
“Well, he sure knows you, and the ungentlemanly coward ratted out on you.” He turned and walked away.
Confused by her frightening emotions, furious with him for causing her distress, the shaking princess stooped down, picked up a rock, and sailed it forcefully at him. The well-thrown pebble caught him on the right ear, breaking the skin, drawing blood.
Virgil Black stopped, lifted a hand, touched his ringing ear, and slowly turned to face her. “Do that again”—his dark face struck by the bright moonlight seemed to be chiseled from the most resistant stone—“and you will regret it.”
“I doubt that!” she answered confidently, but took a defensive step backward.
“Trust me.” He blotted the blood from his ear with the kerchief he had used earlier on his nail-scratched jaw.
“You ever try to kiss me again and you will regret it!”
“I doubt that.” His blue eyes flashed menacingly in the moonlight.
She opened her mouth to utter a stinging retort, but thought better of it and said nothing. She watched in angry silence as the Ranger nonchalantly spread a blanket on the ground near the dying fire, stretched out, covered himself to midchest, folded his hands beneath his head, and closed his eyes.
Nonplussed, Princess Marlena moved tentatively closer. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” she asked, standing above, her hands on her hips.
Virgil cocked one eye open. “Going to sleep,” he said. “I suggest you do the same.”
The princess looked about, frowned. “Where shall I sleep? I see no blanket spread for me. No pillow. No—”
“You’re more than welcome to join me,” Virgil interrupted, tossing back one side of his blanket.
“Never!” she huffed. “I would gladly sit up all night before I would lie down next to a rude, ruthless, ill-bred commoner like you!”
She turned away contemptuously and walked toward the low-burning campfire, sat down, and thought how she would wait until the Ranger was asleep, then she’d take both horses and flee. Leave the cocksure bastard afoot! That’s exactly what he deserved.
A long, chilly, silent hour dragged slowly by.
The
Shocked by his bold behavior, even more shocked by her own, the princess was impotent against the sensual onslaught. This tall Texan was kissing her as she’d never been kissed before, and for a long, shameful moment she was totally powerless against him. Momentarily suspended in that wonderfully thrilling state of escalating sexual excitement, logical thought had slipped away, unseated by simple, basic need. She was swept away by a primal hunger she’d never known was a part of her. Helplessly she responded to Black’s burning caresses before finally managing to regain her temporarily lost senses.
A little of her equilibrium returning, she tore her kiss-scorched lips from his and began to fight him. Struggling to free herself from his embrace, she scolded in a voice shaky with emotion, “Are you mad! You let me go you—you—maniac!”
His tone flat, even, Virgil said, “Ah, come off it, Red. What is it really? You still miffed because I went to sleep on you?”
Continuing to struggle within his arms, she shouted, “You are insane! As mad as a hatter! I have never seen you before in my life, and you have never seen me!”
Virgil Black shrugged wide shoulders and abruptly released her. “It won’t work, baby. Pretend to be anyone you please, but we both know damned well who you are. You’re a beautiful thief and you are going to jail, just like your accomplice, British Bob.”
Backing away from him, she shook her head. “I know of no one called British Bob.”
“Well, he sure knows you, and the ungentlemanly coward ratted out on you.” He turned and walked away.
Confused by her frightening emotions, furious with him for causing her distress, the shaking princess stooped down, picked up a rock, and sailed it forcefully at him. The well-thrown pebble caught him on the right ear, breaking the skin, drawing blood.
Virgil Black stopped, lifted a hand, touched his ringing ear, and slowly turned to face her. “Do that again”—his dark face struck by the bright moonlight seemed to be chiseled from the most resistant stone—“and you will regret it.”
“I doubt that!” she answered confidently, but took a defensive step backward.
“Trust me.” He blotted the blood from his ear with the kerchief he had used earlier on his nail-scratched jaw.
“You ever try to kiss me again and you will regret it!”
“I doubt that.” His blue eyes flashed menacingly in the moonlight.
She opened her mouth to utter a stinging retort, but thought better of it and said nothing. She watched in angry silence as the Ranger nonchalantly spread a blanket on the ground near the dying fire, stretched out, covered himself to midchest, folded his hands beneath his head, and closed his eyes.
Nonplussed, Princess Marlena moved tentatively closer. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” she asked, standing above, her hands on her hips.
Virgil cocked one eye open. “Going to sleep,” he said. “I suggest you do the same.”
The princess looked about, frowned. “Where shall I sleep? I see no blanket spread for me. No pillow. No—”
“You’re more than welcome to join me,” Virgil interrupted, tossing back one side of his blanket.
“Never!” she huffed. “I would gladly sit up all night before I would lie down next to a rude, ruthless, ill-bred commoner like you!”
She turned away contemptuously and walked toward the low-burning campfire, sat down, and thought how she would wait until the Ranger was asleep, then she’d take both horses and flee. Leave the cocksure bastard afoot! That’s exactly what he deserved.
A long, chilly, silent hour dragged slowly by.
The
Similar Books
