Read Lone Star Loving for Free Online Page B

and kissed by all outdoors, enveloped her as he bent to whisper against her ear, “I mean to have you. Temporarily. And you won’t regret it.”
    â€œHave you no conscience? There could be a child.”
    â€œWah’Kon-Tah would never rain such bad spirit.”
    She attempted to put some distance between them. “You hold much faith in yourself and your... whatever you called it.”
    â€œRed devils have a way of doing that.”
    Since he had a comeback for everything she said, Charity was beginning to think she wouldn’t have the last word. A disturbing notion. “You’re well-spoken for a heathen. Some white missionary must have taken pity on you at some point.”
    His mouth captivated her, with its white teeth and full lips, but suddenly those lips were set in a thin line. “Lady, don’t put my temper to the test.”
    â€œLikewise.”
    â€œGet some rest,” he said in exasperation, and shoved her onto the bed.
    The lumpy mattress, ill-covered by the worn quilt, bit her spine. As he clamped one of the manacles on her wrist again, she kicked his thigh and pummeled his upper arm with her free fist. Talon-strong fingers grabbed her hand, and he had a rope looped around that wrist as well as the bed rail in no time.
    Her chest heaving, she spit out, “May hell take you. If you intend to wrest money from my father, Hawk, have at it. You’ll know soon enough that your efforts are in vain. As fruitless as those of your kind when they tried to keep whites from their manifest destiny. You’ll fail. And in the meantime, I’ll make your life a living hell. I’ve got twenty years of experience along those lines. Ask any McLoughlin.”
    â€œGet yourself pulled together before sunrise.” He rose to his full height, staring down at her almost murderously. “We leave at dawn. As I said before, you can make this as easy or as difficult as you want it.”
    â€œGo to hell.”
    â€œYou have a harlot’s mouth.”
    â€œYou seemed to like it a few minutes ago.” Good gravy, don’t give him any encouragement!
    â€œYour submissive lips, not your sharp tongue.”
    Gads, her lips had been submissive! She drilled Hawk with a look of defiance. “Perhaps I was too free with my favors. It won’t happen again. You may have kidnapped me, but I demand respect. You will keep your hands to yourself. Understood?”
    Without a word or a gesture of acknowledgment, he quit the room, dropping the hide door in his wake and leaving her with her thoughts. Thoughts? They would be better categorized as fantasies.
    It was as if she were a girl again. The same sort of scene happened countless times. Each occurred at home, at the Four Aces Ranch. A specific incident stood out. The triplets must have been seven at the time. Their brother Angus had just progressed to baby steps. And they had recently moved into the grand home Papa had built for Mutti.
    Papa’s delay in returning from one of his cattle drives to Kansas left a pall on the Christmas Eve festivities.
    In deference to their mother’s heritage, a tree had been brought into the great hall. The scent of cedar permeated the room, along with beeswax candles and bows of holly. Mutti–as the triplets called their mother in the German language she was set on teaching them–fastened candles on the tree. Their great-grandmother sat in her rocker and complained about all the fuss.
    â€œLass,” Maisie had said to Lisette, “ye’ll be burning the house down with all those candles. And if we’ll not be reduced t’ ashes, yer bairns will be learning t’ play with fire.”
    Lisette’s blue eyes sparkled. “Hush,” she said in the accent of her fatherland, and gave a look of love to her husband’s grandmother.
    Righteous indignation, mingled with love, met that adoration. “Sometimes I wonder aboot yer ways. Such as the time ye