back him. I guess my neckhairs just naturally came up when you mentioned the subject.”
He began stroking her feet again, his thumbs pressing into the tender flesh of her arches, his fingers caressing her toes. It was the most exquisite, the most sensual experience Molly had ever had. But it wasn't only the soft soles and arches of her feet thatcaught fire. With every titillating brush of his fingers there was a corresponding flare deep within her. She knew it had to be wrong to let him do this to her. They'd only just met, for heaven's sake! But he made it seem a mere kindness. And after all, it was only her
feet
“About this man selling bad whiskey,” Molly said. “Why doesn't the law stop him?”
“There isn't any law to speak of in Fort Benton right now. Pike Hardesty shot the sheriff eight months ago—in a fair fight—and no one else has been willing to take his place. Pike has everyone too scared to make a move.” He paused and added, “Except the Masked Marauder.”
“Who?”
Seth grinned. “The Masked Marauder. Nobody knows for sure who he is or where he comes from. But he's on the side of the law, which makes him Bassett's enemy. Whenever someone is in trouble, the Marauder rides to the rescue, guns blazing.”
“He sounds like a very brave man. Why do you suppose he keeps his identity a secret?”
“He has his reasons, I'm sure.”
“I'll bet he's well known in town,” Molly guessed. “And if people saw him, they'd recognize him.”
“Maybe,” Seth said. “And maybe he's nobody and wants to stay that way.”
Molly angled her head so she could see Seth's face. His features had hardened, along with his voice. She caught her breath and said, “You know who he is.”
Seth abruptly stopped rubbing her feet. “Nobody knows who he is.” And to make sure she knew the conversation was at an end, he said, “Are you about ready for bed?”
With Molly sitting on the top step and Seth on the bottom, they were almost eye to eye. She reached up a hand in an unconscious action to smooth the hair from his brow, as she might have done with one of her children. He grabbed her wrist to stop her, then changed his mind. His hand dropped to his side.
Self-conscious now, Molly met his piercing gaze as she finished what she had started. His black hair was thick and surprisingly silky. She felt him shiver as her thumb brushed his temple. Then her hand fell away, and they sat there staring, totally aware of each other.
“I don't love you,” Seth said in a quiet voice. “I'm not sure I can ever love another woman. But I want you—desire you—with every breath I take.”
“Seth, I—”
He began murmuring words he might have used to soothe a frightened colt, because he could tell she was skittish. He had never suspected that simply caressing a woman's feet could arouse her. It had started innocently enough. But as her lids had lowered over her eyes, as her mouth fell open to draw shorter, panting breaths, and as her toes curled sensuously against his flesh, he had realized she desired him. His hands circled her ankles, and slowly, languidly, he began to draw her legs around his waist.
As she slid down onto his lap, his hands traveled up the velvety length of her legs, pushing her flannel nightgown up and out of his way so that her bare legs could surround him.
Moments later, she was sitting on his lap facing him, the heart of her snug against the heat of him. Her hands rested tentatively on his shoulders. Wide-eyed, she stared at him as his hands slowly curved around her naked buttocks and lifted her up and more fully onto him.
Molly couldn't breathe, the feelings were so exquisite. She could feel him. He was hard. And there was a throbbing heat. Molly laid her head on his shoulder but could notbring herself to do anything to further his seduction of her.
Seth framed her face with his hands. He forced her head back and looked deep into her eyes to see what she was feeling. And then his mouth
He began stroking her feet again, his thumbs pressing into the tender flesh of her arches, his fingers caressing her toes. It was the most exquisite, the most sensual experience Molly had ever had. But it wasn't only the soft soles and arches of her feet thatcaught fire. With every titillating brush of his fingers there was a corresponding flare deep within her. She knew it had to be wrong to let him do this to her. They'd only just met, for heaven's sake! But he made it seem a mere kindness. And after all, it was only her
feet
“About this man selling bad whiskey,” Molly said. “Why doesn't the law stop him?”
“There isn't any law to speak of in Fort Benton right now. Pike Hardesty shot the sheriff eight months ago—in a fair fight—and no one else has been willing to take his place. Pike has everyone too scared to make a move.” He paused and added, “Except the Masked Marauder.”
“Who?”
Seth grinned. “The Masked Marauder. Nobody knows for sure who he is or where he comes from. But he's on the side of the law, which makes him Bassett's enemy. Whenever someone is in trouble, the Marauder rides to the rescue, guns blazing.”
“He sounds like a very brave man. Why do you suppose he keeps his identity a secret?”
“He has his reasons, I'm sure.”
“I'll bet he's well known in town,” Molly guessed. “And if people saw him, they'd recognize him.”
“Maybe,” Seth said. “And maybe he's nobody and wants to stay that way.”
Molly angled her head so she could see Seth's face. His features had hardened, along with his voice. She caught her breath and said, “You know who he is.”
Seth abruptly stopped rubbing her feet. “Nobody knows who he is.” And to make sure she knew the conversation was at an end, he said, “Are you about ready for bed?”
With Molly sitting on the top step and Seth on the bottom, they were almost eye to eye. She reached up a hand in an unconscious action to smooth the hair from his brow, as she might have done with one of her children. He grabbed her wrist to stop her, then changed his mind. His hand dropped to his side.
Self-conscious now, Molly met his piercing gaze as she finished what she had started. His black hair was thick and surprisingly silky. She felt him shiver as her thumb brushed his temple. Then her hand fell away, and they sat there staring, totally aware of each other.
“I don't love you,” Seth said in a quiet voice. “I'm not sure I can ever love another woman. But I want you—desire you—with every breath I take.”
“Seth, I—”
He began murmuring words he might have used to soothe a frightened colt, because he could tell she was skittish. He had never suspected that simply caressing a woman's feet could arouse her. It had started innocently enough. But as her lids had lowered over her eyes, as her mouth fell open to draw shorter, panting breaths, and as her toes curled sensuously against his flesh, he had realized she desired him. His hands circled her ankles, and slowly, languidly, he began to draw her legs around his waist.
As she slid down onto his lap, his hands traveled up the velvety length of her legs, pushing her flannel nightgown up and out of his way so that her bare legs could surround him.
Moments later, she was sitting on his lap facing him, the heart of her snug against the heat of him. Her hands rested tentatively on his shoulders. Wide-eyed, she stared at him as his hands slowly curved around her naked buttocks and lifted her up and more fully onto him.
Molly couldn't breathe, the feelings were so exquisite. She could feel him. He was hard. And there was a throbbing heat. Molly laid her head on his shoulder but could notbring herself to do anything to further his seduction of her.
Seth framed her face with his hands. He forced her head back and looked deep into her eyes to see what she was feeling. And then his mouth
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