Max met her gaze in the mirror. “Are you sure?” he asked, his hands gently caressing her still flat stomach.
She couldn’t define what she heard in his voice. “Don’t you want a family?”
He turned her to face him. “It’s something I never thought I’d have in this lifetime until I met you. I can’t imagine anything more wonderful on this earth, Angel, than to see our babe nursing at your breast.” He gave her a kiss that told her just exactly how he felt.
“Can we stay in tonight, Max? Just the two of us?” Since they’d arrived in Washington several days ago, he’d had them on the go. She really wanted to enjoy this special time with him, regardless of her parents and his family right next door.
He let go of her and straightened his cravat then pulled on the jacket to his formal eveningwear. He winked. “I would love to, but I think you’ll enjoy tonight’s performance.” He leaned forward to whisper wickedly in her ear. “And I am not speaking strictly of the symphony.”
* * *
Janice, Josephine, Jacqueline and Jillian—Max’s half-sisters—chattered excitedly as everyone descended the carriages at the Washington Symphony. Girls their ages usually didn’t attend events such as this. Max, however, had arranged everything for this celebration, and he wouldn’t allow anyone to be excluded. The concert hall was completely full, but their seats were premium.
Throughout the evening, Abby enjoyed the sequence of composers that were played by the many gifted musicians on stage. Just before the finale, however, the orchestra took a short intermission to rearrange and tune their instruments.
The conductor took his position, then turned to the audience. “The final selection for this evening is by a new composer, who happens to be with us tonight. If she would so favor us by accompanying the orchestra on the piano, I am sure the audience will be delighted.”
A murmur went through the audience, for this was certainly an unusual change.
“This newest concerto is titled Song of My Heart.” The conductor looked straight at her. “By Abigail Faith O’Brien Grant.”
She gasped, flabbergasted. The wonderful Blue Jays squealed in delight, and her father stood, applauding loudly.
Max smiled at her surprise and held out his hand to accompany her to the stage. As she began the sweet refrains of the concerto, she looked over at Max, standing proudly in the wings of the stage. She recalled her daydreams of so long ago when she’d told Tess she wanted a husband who would be dreamy-eyed over her success and stand docilely off stage to her life.
Max was anything but docile and he’d quickly taken center stage in her life. She had to admit they were both a bit dreamy-eyed, and she knew he truly would lay down his life for her. But because she loved him beyond all reason, she would do no less for him.
About the Author
To learn more about Barbara Baldwin, please visit http://www.authorsden.com/barbarajbaldwin. Send an email to Barb at [email protected]. To join in the fun with other readers as well as Barb, join her Yahoo! Group at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/MoodSwingsWithBarbaraBaldwin
A marriage of convenience shows a determined rancher and a stubborn woman what it means to be branded.
Branded
© 2007 Beth Williamson
Part of the Leather and Lace series.
When a clause in his grandfather’s will forces Rafe Sinclair to marry or else lose his ranch, he sets his sights on what he thinks is a safe choice—his neighbor Emma Radcliff.
Emma has never wanted anything other than to work her family’s horse ranch. But when her father forces her to marry Rafe, she does everything in her power to make the handsome rancher regret his choice of brides.
They say oil and water don’t mix, but in Emma’s and Rafe’s case, it does—and the result is fire. When Emma refuses to consummate the marriage, Rafe sets out to prove that marriage him is the best thing that’s ever happened to her.
Warning, this title contains the following: explicit sex and graphic language.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Branded:
Rafe’s mind could not grasp the fact that the woman beside him was Emma Radcliff. She didn’t bear even the slightest resemblance to herself at fifteen. Okay, well the face was the same only slimmer, but that ass and those tits…well, they didn’t used to look like that. Perhaps being married to her wouldn’t be too bad.
It would help if she didn’t carry guns though. He didn’t know one other woman who wore Colts on her hips. Most, if any, carried a little derringer in their reticule or pulled out a shotgun for protection if necessary.
His bride-to-be wore two six-shooters like she was a man. She was a conundrum of mismatched pieces.
They rode in silence back to the Circle S. The closer they got, the more he worried about all the women waiting for him. Strange thing was, he was glad Emma had come back with him. It didn’t make him feel safe, just better. He never thought he’d be hiding from any woman, much less a herd of them, but damned if they hadn’t all looked hungry enough to eat him alive. Normally having two or three women inviting him to play might excite him, however this situation wasn’t normal, and neither were the sheer number of females.
He glanced around the yard from their vantage point on the hill, noting the white figures that were either large stray sheep or women poking around the ranch.
“They’re still here.” He sighed. “Nosing around like a pack of coyotes.”
Emma glanced at him sideways. “No need for name-calling, Rafe. You can’t blame them for trying. Way I hear it, gals have been trying to land you for years.” She shook her head. “Can’t say as I understand it.”
Rafe frowned. “I’m not all that bad, Emma. Once upon a time, you didn’t think I was.”
She huffed out an impatient-sounding breath. “Well I guess I grew up and got smart. Let’s get this over with.” Emma spurred her horse down the hill, leaving Rafe behind.
He caught up with her just as she reached the barn and dismounted in a smooth movement that made his eyebrows shoot up. Emma wasn’t fooling when she said she knew horses well. Not many men could move like that, much less a woman.
Emma cupped her hands around her mouth. “Ladies, this is Emma Radcliff. I’m here with Rafe Sinclair. Come on out.”
A tiny bit of trepidation wiggled around in Rafe’s stomach. She made it sound like he was up for auction, for Pete’s sake. As he dismounted, the herd of ladies appeared like hungry hands called for chow. With a weak smile, he stepped up next to Emma. He was not hiding behind her.
Emma addressed them. “I’m sure you’ve all heard that Rafe needs to get hitched. I’m here to tell you that’s true.”
She glanced up at Rafe, and he saw her plan laid out like a map in her eyes right before she opened her mouth. Nothing doing. He wasn’t about to let the coyotes loose on him regardless of Emma’s reasons for wanting that to happen.
Rafe clamped his hand over her mouth and yanked her under his arm. “I’m officially engaged to Emma here so y’all can go home.”
Emma took the opportunity to bite his hand. Instead of looking like a fool in front of the crestfallen ladies, he did what he did best—he kissed his intended bride.
It started as a lesson to her to behave as well as a show for the prospective brides buzzing around. Emma’s breasts pushed up against his chest nicely while her stiff lips barely moved beneath his. He thought she even might be growling at him.
Rafe’s kiss softened by degrees until he was barely touching her, just a gentle swipe of his lips against hers. Their essences mingled as they swallowed each other’s breaths. Before he knew it, Rafe forgot who he was kissing, where he was or what the hell he had intended on doing.
Kissing Emma consumed him.
She was firm yet curvy with a tremendous amount of strength in her body. Her hand crept up and tangled in his hair, knocking his hat off. The haze of arousal thrummed through him as his body reacted to the sensuous woman in his arms. Until she yanked his hair so hard his eyes
crossed.
Rafe let her go so fast she almost fell on her ass. He grabbed her hand at the last second and pulled her back to her feet. As he rubbed the back of his head, he noticed how red and plump her lips were, that they were wet from his kisses, and she had a hint of whisker burn on her chin.
He’d not only kissed Emma Radcliff, he’d enjoyed it. More than enjoyed it by the reaction of his dick.
Hot damn.
He should have expected the fist, but damn, it hurt like hell when she walloped him with a right hook. When Rafe uncrossed his eyes, he was pleased to discover the other women had disappeared. He didn’t know how long he’d been kissing Emma, but it was long enough that they were alone.
“Don’t ever take anything from me again,” she hissed. “I might marry you, Rafe Sinclair, but I ain’t willing to do more than that.”
Rafe had to physically force himself not to stare at her chest. Those round, soft tits of hers heaved with each outraged breath she took. He felt topsy-turvy as if his entire world had just shifted under his feet.
Emma pushed at his chest. “Do you understand me?”
He nodded, swallowing at the tightness in his throat. Rafe had no idea what just happened, but he expected it was the beginning of something else, something bigger between them. It should have scared the hell out of him, which in turn would make him do all he could to stop it. However, he had no choice but to forge ahead with the marriage to Emma, come hell or high water.
“Let’s get this over with then.” Emma tied her horse off at the hitching post and stomped toward the house, little puffs of dirt following her progress with each boot print.
After a long, deep sigh, Rafe followed.
When a full-blooded Comanche risks everything for the honor of the woman he loves, it’s a safe bet there’ll be a showdown at high noon.
High Noon
© 2007 Rebecca Goings
Part of the Leather and Lace series
Banning, TX 1872
Alison Williams has loved Talon Holt most of her life, but he broke her heart when he suddenly left town five years ago. Then Alison’s father loses a round of poker to the notorious blackguard Garrett Sumrall, and she’s shocked to learn he’s lost much more than his life savings. He’d bet Alison’s hand in marriage!
A full-blooded Comanche raised by a white man, Talon has never fit in to either world. Despite his feelings for his childhood friend, he’s sure he did her a favor by leaving so she would be free to marry someone of her own race. But when he hears the news of her father’s gambling debt, he returns to rescue Alison from her cruel fate.
A few stolen kisses, and their passion rekindles with fiery intensity. However, Sumrall is not about to give up his winnings without a fight—because he has a much darker reason for making sure Alison makes good on her father’s bet.
It’s a showdown at high noon, and winner takes all!
Warning: Wild West Justice and Wild West Sex.
Enjoy the following excerpt for High Noon:
Often she came down to the creek, where she and Talon had spent many days together in their youth. The sound of the babbling water calmed her raging emotions, and she took refuge in the fond memories she had of spending time with the man she adored.
He’d taught her how to skip a rock on the water and how to fish. He’d also been the only one to ever see her without her shoes, daring her to dip her bare feet into the cool water one hot summer’s day. She and Talon used to be inseparable. What had happened to them?
“Thought I might find you here.”
Alison gasped at the sound of Talon’s deep voice a split second before he sat on the blanket next to her. He didn’t spare her a glance, but instead gazed at the stars. “Beautiful night.”
“How did you…how did you sneak up on me?” She sat up in a huff, desperately trying to straighten her hair, even though it was likely he couldn’t see her too well anyhow.
“Didn’t do much sneaking, honey, I just walked up and sat down. You must have been lost in thought.”
Alison’s heart leapt at his casual use of the word “honey”. Hearing it from him sounded both foreign and completely wonderful at the same time. He’d never called her that when they were younger.
“I’m surprised to see you’re still here,” she said.
“Told you I was back in Banning to stay.”
“Well forgive me for not exactly believing you.”
Talon sighed and turned to her. “I was a fool all those years ago, Allie. I left because…because…”
“What?” she prompted.
“I left because I was afraid. Afraid of my feelings for you. When you told me you felt more for me than friendship, I panicked. The only thing that had been keeping me at arm’s length from you was the knowledge that you only looked at me as a friend. But Christ, Allie, you were fifteen. I was twenty-two. Quite the age gap, don’t you think?”
Her heart raced. Talon had actually cared for her? Alison’s head spun. “We’re still seven years apart now.”
He nodded. “True. But now, you’re twenty. I’m twenty-seven. I’m thinking that’s a much better stretch.”
It was hard for her to take a breath. Something changed in Talon’s tone of voice, and Alison’s stomach flopped. The night air was cool, but her skin burned, and she desperately wished she wasn’t encumbered by her heavy skirts.
“What are you saying, Talon?” Her voice sounded breathless, even to her own ears.
“Remember that kiss I gave you before I left?”
How could she forget? It was seared onto her brain like a brand. “Yes,” she said, panting.
He leaned closer to her, planting his fists on either side of her thighs. Rising up on his knees, Talon commanded every ounce of her attention. “I stopped it short. Do you know why?”
Alison shook her head so fast, he chuckled. Ever so slowly, he leaned in just a bit more, his eyes boring into hers.
“I wanted to kiss you like a man kisses a woman, but you were too young. You weren’t ready for it then.”
Blood rushed in her ears and she could barely hear his words. She resisted the urge to circle his neck with her arms. His body warmed her, and despite her own heated skin, she shivered.
“Talon—”
“Shh.” He placed one finger on her lips. “I want to kiss you proper, honey. Will you let me?”
He was so close now, their breath mingled. She didn’t know where hers ended and his began. She could smell his clean scent, purely male, like dust and leather. He must have found time to freshen up some. His stubble had been shaved and his hair combed.
As her silence stretched on, Talon’s hands roamed up her arms and neck, one palm cupping her cheek while the other held the back of her head. He was urging her slightly closer to him and she couldn’t fight him. Her resolve to shield her heart was crumbling. She wanted him to kiss her too badly.
His eyes pleaded with her and Alison knew she couldn’t deny him. She nodded right before he closed the gap between them, pressing his lips to hers.
The contact sent tremors throughout her body, and she whimpered loudly. Talon responded with a low growl, leaning her back onto the blanket, following her without breaking the kiss. She knew she should be scandalized that he’d settled on top of her, but his weight felt so good, she wouldn’t have moved him for all riches in the world.
He angled her head, giving him better access to her mouth. Without warning, his tongue snaked out, parting her lips almost forcefully. The bold move shocked her, but she’d often wondered what it would be like to kiss him like this. She surrendered without a fight.
In and out his tongue plunged, playing with hers. It was silky soft and so dominating, she could hardly keep up with him. She responded by thrusting her own tongue into his mouth with ardor. He surged against her, fisting his hands in her hair.
Alison broke the kiss just to get a mouthful of air, but that didn’t deter Talon. He merely kissed and suckled his way down the skin of her neck, leavin
g trails of wet fire behind. Every nerve-ending in her body prickled at his touch, and an unfamiliar yearning lit within her.
“Christ, Allie, I missed you so damn much.”
His voice sounded tortured as his mouth latched on to the side of her throat. She gasped, but did nothing to stop him, threading her fingers through his long, soft hair. “Not as much as I missed you,” she managed to say, her voice barely a whisper.
Before she knew his intent, his mouth was on hers again, tasting deeply, demanding her full and total submission. Talon’s hand wandered between them, grazing her breast and tightening her nipple. She moaned into his mouth at the sensation, arching her back to feel it again. He became bolder at her response and caressed her fully, puckering her nipple through the thick layers of her dress.
He panted as he stroked her, a fire alight in his eyes. “I want to kiss you all over, Allie. I want to know what every inch of you tastes like.”
A younger man bent on seduction. An older woman determined to resist. A love that cannot be denied.
The Seduction of Widow McEwan
© 2007 Melissa Schroeder
Part of the Leather and Lace series
Jameson McEwan is widowed, but happy with her lot in life. After suffering through an arranged marriage to an older man, she’s had little romance and very little experience with men—other than ordering them around on her ranch.
Seth Conner has harbored a bit of an obsession for Jamie since the tender age of sixteen. Now that she’s widowed, he has sensed her reluctance to wed again and has kept his distance. When she says she’s marrying another man—strictly as a business arrangement—Seth decides he’s waited long enough.
Jamie never expected to find herself in bed shivering with desire, especially not with Seth. One taste of a night filled with passion, and she finds he’s as addictive as liquor. But their age difference and her responsibilities hold her back from considering a future with him. Seth refuses to take no for an answer.
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