Christine Dorsey (41 page)

But she just sat there looking fit and content.

“Well, yes.” Samantha carefully measured her words, knowing Jake’s dislike of Farrow. “He took charge of transporting Moore’s men to Fort Scott for trial.”

“Does his assistance include calling on you?” There he went again. He just couldn’t seem to keep quiet. But while he was riding all over the damn country, Farrow had been here courting Samantha.

“He’s called a few times, but—Where do you think you’re going?” Samantha rose and flung herself at the door before Jake could get to it.

Jake took a step back, surprised at her quick movement and her question. Her eyes were large and very blue. And her chest beneath the plain calico gown heaved with each breath. Jake pulled his gaze away and rubbed his jaw. “I think I should get going.”

“Back to Texas?” Samantha didn’t budge an inch.

“I suppose.” She seemed to be blocking the door. “You all seem to be getting on fine without me.”

There was getting on and there was getting on. “Will misses you terrible. He hasn’t let the harmonica out of his sight since you left.”

“I miss him too. He’s a fine boy.” Moments stretched on as Samantha looked at Jake and Jake looked at her. He could feel the tension in the air, almost like the time he interrupted her bath. But, of course, this was different. They were both dressed, for one thing. And for another, he wasn’t going to carry her off to bed no matter how much he craved her.

If Farrow was courting her, it should be Farrow taking her to bed... after he married her, of course. Jake gritted his teeth and the crease between his brows deepened. Damnit, he couldn’t stand the thought of Farrow—or anyone else—touching her.

“Samantha—”

“Jake—”

They spoke simultaneously, as if on cue, and politely stopped with as much precision.

“You go ahead,” Jake offered gallantly.

“No you,” Samantha countered.

Jake took a deep breath. Damn, he hated feeling nervous like this. Not knowing how Samantha would take what he was about to say.

It had been different with Lydia. They had known each other since childhood. There was never any doubt that they’d marry. But this... If Samantha had fallen for the lieutenant—which she had every right to do, even though Farrow was an arrogant son of a hitch—then there was nothing Jake could do. And he’d have to go on without her.

When faced with that alternative, pride seemed foolish. He stared into her clear blue eyes. “I came back because of you.”

“You did?” Samantha felt a smile form on her lips.

“Yes.” Jake swiped his palm across his chin. “Damnit, Samantha, I love you. I know you might not feel the same, but—”

Samantha’s mouth against his cut off the rest of what he planned to say. And the way she threw her body into his, he quickly forgot what it was.

Her arms were around his neck, his clasping her to him. Samantha breathed in his scent and showed him by her actions that she felt the same way about him. Their kiss was slow and deep and it was a long time before they separated. When they did, Jake’s grin matched Samantha’s.

“So what are you trying to say here?” Jake ran his hands along the length of her spine.

“I love you, too,” Samantha whispered, tugging his head down for another kiss. “I thought you were gone forever and I missed you so much.”

His lips brushed along her cheek and across her jaw. “I couldn’t stay away.” His breath fluttered the pale curls behind her ear. Then his mouth was again on hers, devouring her, melting her in his arms... flooding her with heat.

Desire raged through him. Jake cupped her breast, shaping the soft mound through her clothes. The nipple tightened and her soft moans scorched his blood.

“Oh, Jake. Jake.” Her plea was a siren’s song, one he wanted with all his heart to follow. But he’d ridden hundreds of miles to ask her a question. He pulled away, his breath catching as her lashes lifted and he saw her passion filled eyes.

“We need... to talk.” He could barely get the words out and she writhed against his lower body. He didn’t hesitate when she grabbed his hand and led him toward her bedroom.

“We can talk later,” she said, then smiled broadly when he scooped her into his arms.

Undressing her was magic.

Each new expanse of flesh he revealed to the golden sunlight streaming through the window was beautiful, and begged to be kissed. His tongue wet the base of her neck as he stripped the dress from her shoulders. When her breasts were free, he sat on the edge of the bedstead and pulled her into the V of his thighs.

She braided her fingers deep into the rough silk of his hair and he suckled her nipples. Samantha’s back arched, offering herself more completely as his large hands rode the crest of her hips.

Her moans were as uncontrollable as the undulating waves of her body when he tugged free the bow of her pantaloons and skimmed them down her legs. His breath sighed across the tight curls at the apex of her thighs and Samantha’s knees folded.

But before she could fall, Jake hauled her to him. His rough clothing rasped across her tender skin in a motion she found wildly erotic. Still she longed to feel the heat of his skin slide along hers.

As if he’d read her mind, Jake settled Samantha on the faded quilt and tore at his own clothes. When he stood before her bold and powerful, splendid in his readiness, Samantha opened her arms and he followed her down on the mattress.

He cupped her head between his hands and Samantha looked up into the impassioned intensity of his gaze. “I love you so much,” he said, and plunged into her moist heat.

She wanted to return the words, but the next moment he thrust deeper and Samantha’s legs wrapped about his hips. She couldn’t speak, could barely think as his movements quickened.

But Jake needed no more affirmation of her feelings for him than the gentle touch of her hands on his shoulders. Or the open way she met and matched his rhythm as they moved toward the pinnacle of pleasure. Or her wild spasms and cry of joy when he sent her spiraling to the heavens. Her actions were the language of love eternal, her sigh of his name its benediction.

Jake shifted only far enough to take his weight from her then gathered her close. “It feels so good to hold you,” he said as she snuggled against his hard chest.

They lay like that, content in each other’s arms while their hearts quieted and their breathing returned to normal. The chilled temperature of the room finally registered on their love-slick bodies so Jake reached down to cover them with the quilt folded at the foot of the bed.

“Samantha?” Jake felt her cheek slip across his chest as she looked up at him.

“It’s time to talk?” she questioned and his chuckle vibrated through her.

“Yes, I think it is.” Jake hiked himself up against the headboard and settled Samantha with him. “I want to be with you,” he began without preamble. “Always.”

Samantha rested her elbows on his chest and smiled. “I want to be with you too.”

“But I can’t stay here,” Jake hurried on. “The reasons for my leaving haven’t changed. I know you don’t want to give up your farm after you’ve worked so hard and it’s a lot for me to ask. Especially knowing how you feel about Texas. But—”

“What do you mean, how I feel about Texas?” Samantha traced her finger along his jaw.

“Well, you told Will there was nothing there for him.”

Samantha settled more comfortably along Jake’s hard length. “Oh, that was Will. I just didn’t want him getting any ideas about running off.”

“But you would?” Jake’s brow arched as she let her fingers drift down his muscled ribs.

“Run off to Texas?” Samantha pressed her lips to his collarbone, then glanced up through a veil of golden hair. “In a minute.” She nibbled the underside of his chin. “Of course, I’d have to be asked to go first.”

“Consider yourself asked.”

“And I wouldn’t go with just anyone.” Samantha slid down his body, letting her mouth skim across his chest. “I’d want the man I ran off with to have a profession.” She paused in her inspection of the arrow of hair that trailed down his chest. “I’d like him to do something where he helped people.”

“Like, say, a doctor?”

Samantha giggled as Jake flipped her onto her back and settled on top of her. “Yes, a doctor would be just fine,” she breathed.

“Good. Because I’ve decided that’s what I’ll always be.” Jake fanned her glorious hair across the pillow. “You helped show me that. You gave me back my life.” Jake’s lips brushed hers. “Marry me,” he whispered, then smiled when she did. “I want to take you to Texas, you and Will. We’ll start a new life.”

“Together,” Samantha sighed.

“Mmmm.” Her skin was soft and smooth as he trailed his mouth down her neck. “We’ll find a town that needs a doctor and settle down—”

“And raise lots of babies,” Samantha said, smiling up at him.

“And raise lots of babies.”

“And be happy.”

“Oh, yes,” Jake agreed, love for her filling all the empty spaces inside. “And be very happy.”

Please read on for an excerpt from
To Love A Rebel
, a Revolutionary War romantic adventure from Christine Dorsey.

Chapter One

This life has joys for you and I;

And joys that riches ne’er could buy;

And joys the very best.

There’s a’ the Pleasures o’ the Heart. [sic]

— Robert Burns

“Epistle to Davie, a Brother Poet”

Cross Creek, North Carolina

August, 1775

“W
hat in the hell is going on here, Sergeant?”

Fear chilled Fiona MacClure as she gaped up at the man who’d exploded through the bedroom door, demanding an explanation. She thought she’d been in trouble before, but now...

One look at the tall, dark, powerfully built man and Fiona knew she’d made a mistake—a terrible mistake. But her sister, Elspeth, had assured her the colonel was in Hillsboro.

“I was coming up from the tavern below stairs and caught this woman sneaking into your room, Colonel Kincaid,” answered the burly, blond sergeant who’d surprised Fiona moments earlier as she was, indeed, sneaking into the colonel’s room.

“I weren’t sneakin’!” The lie escaped Fiona so quickly she had a flash of hope. Maybe she’d be able to wriggle out of this predicament. Maybe the blood of Scottish heroines did flow through her veins. Why, she’d even remembered to affect the dialect of a tavern wench—the dialect that matched her hastily contrived disguise.

The sergeant, who now had a secure grip on Fiona’s wrist, snorted. “Claims you sent for her.”

“He did send for me,” Fiona screeched, throwing herself into the charade. She didn’t like her captor’s tone. After all, it wasn’t inconceivable that someone would send for her. But as soon as she said it, Fiona wished she hadn’t. Her outburst riveted the colonel’s attention to her. Until this moment, he’d focused primarily on the sergeant.

Now the colonel turned his gaze on her and his scowl deepened. Heroism be damned, Fiona retreated, at least as far as she could before the sergeant’s grasp stopped her. “I... I could be mistaken.” Fiona caught herself slipping into her soft Scottish brogue and paused. “I mean, some bloke did send for me, but I ain’t sure it was you. Now that I think on it, it probably weren’t. I’ll just be takin’ my leave now, guv’nor. Sorry for the mistake.”