Read Online Captured by Time by Carolyn Faulkner, Alta Hensley - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Carolyn Faulkner, Alta Hensley
Ads: Link
then for himself. He was hungry, and he could imagine that she was, too. He had to give her credit; she had ridden all day and he hadn't heard a peep of complaint out of her. His heart had ended up in his throat when she'd collapsed after dismounting, but she seemed none the worse for the wear. She was, however, already much too thin for his tastes.
Whoever she was and whoever was responsible for her care wasn't doing a very good job of it. He'd been happier than he should have been when she said that she wasn't married. He had no right to be thinking of anything like that in regards to her. Until he cleared his name, he considered himself to be barely a man. What living he did was in the shadows and by his wits. If she hadn't been with him, he wouldn't have come to this cabin. There was too much of a possibility that someone else might decide it looked like a good place of refuge.
But he couldn't subject her to the harsh realities of his existence. The bald truth was that he should never have taken her with him. He should have left her there, to deal with the sheriff herself, but he had balked at that idea for several reasons, not the least of which being his gentlemanly tendencies towards women, which were going to get him killed one day. And with her weighing him down and getting him to expose himself like this, it was likely going to be sooner rather than later.
Still, she was gorgeous and warm and had the most magnificent hair… and making love to her for her first time—for their first time—the way she'd exploded in his arms… he knew he would be replaying that memory in his mind long after she was gone, and he intended to add more memories tonight, while he had her. For now though, he contented himself—well, forced himself, anyway, with the added benefit that he became just that much harder for every minute he denied himself—with feeding her bits of rabbit.
Or rather, trying to.
She refused to eat, and was lying stiffly against him again, as if she would bolt away given the first chance. He was holding out the best parts of it to her—his favorite; moist chunks of leg meat—and she steadfastly refused to open her mouth.
Sighing heavily, he said, "Damn, Miss Cimmy, if even after a spanking, you aren't the most stubborn woman I've ever met!"
To his horror, the tears he thought she had got through rose to the surface—he could hear it in her voice. "I don't much appreciate being threatened and abused," she said.
He had to go back through their conversation to what he'd said about being a man with a gun and a badge, and he hadn't meant it that way, but he also wasn't at all sure that he was going to retract or even go so far as to apologize for what he'd said. It was right, especially if it gave her pause for thought about being so damned recalcitrant.
"And I don't appreciate being outright disobeyed or defied at every possible turn," he pretty much roared, feeling her trembling in his arms from something other than cold. "And I don't think you are such a weak woman that you would consider an old-fashioned wallop abuse. An intelligent woman would know it was coming."
"So now you are saying I'm not intelligent?"
"Quite the opposite. You should know by now that a harsh tongue will earn you a harsh lickin'. Plain and simple. Not abuse, just a firm and loving hand."
He heard her sigh as if she were impatient with him . "Well, then I guess we're at an impasse."
"The hell we are, little miss. As you were so horrified to hear, I'm the one with the gun." It was never very far away from him nowadays; sitting on the floor next to the bed where he reached for it and brought it up to set it down in front of her, facing the fire and away from either of them. "Do you need me to put it to your head to get you to do as I tell you to? Because I will, if that's what it takes."
She let one loud sob escape her mouth, then no more. When she answered him, her words were clipped and emotionless. "No. Your captive will
Whoever she was and whoever was responsible for her care wasn't doing a very good job of it. He'd been happier than he should have been when she said that she wasn't married. He had no right to be thinking of anything like that in regards to her. Until he cleared his name, he considered himself to be barely a man. What living he did was in the shadows and by his wits. If she hadn't been with him, he wouldn't have come to this cabin. There was too much of a possibility that someone else might decide it looked like a good place of refuge.
But he couldn't subject her to the harsh realities of his existence. The bald truth was that he should never have taken her with him. He should have left her there, to deal with the sheriff herself, but he had balked at that idea for several reasons, not the least of which being his gentlemanly tendencies towards women, which were going to get him killed one day. And with her weighing him down and getting him to expose himself like this, it was likely going to be sooner rather than later.
Still, she was gorgeous and warm and had the most magnificent hair… and making love to her for her first time—for their first time—the way she'd exploded in his arms… he knew he would be replaying that memory in his mind long after she was gone, and he intended to add more memories tonight, while he had her. For now though, he contented himself—well, forced himself, anyway, with the added benefit that he became just that much harder for every minute he denied himself—with feeding her bits of rabbit.
Or rather, trying to.
She refused to eat, and was lying stiffly against him again, as if she would bolt away given the first chance. He was holding out the best parts of it to her—his favorite; moist chunks of leg meat—and she steadfastly refused to open her mouth.
Sighing heavily, he said, "Damn, Miss Cimmy, if even after a spanking, you aren't the most stubborn woman I've ever met!"
To his horror, the tears he thought she had got through rose to the surface—he could hear it in her voice. "I don't much appreciate being threatened and abused," she said.
He had to go back through their conversation to what he'd said about being a man with a gun and a badge, and he hadn't meant it that way, but he also wasn't at all sure that he was going to retract or even go so far as to apologize for what he'd said. It was right, especially if it gave her pause for thought about being so damned recalcitrant.
"And I don't appreciate being outright disobeyed or defied at every possible turn," he pretty much roared, feeling her trembling in his arms from something other than cold. "And I don't think you are such a weak woman that you would consider an old-fashioned wallop abuse. An intelligent woman would know it was coming."
"So now you are saying I'm not intelligent?"
"Quite the opposite. You should know by now that a harsh tongue will earn you a harsh lickin'. Plain and simple. Not abuse, just a firm and loving hand."
He heard her sigh as if she were impatient with him . "Well, then I guess we're at an impasse."
"The hell we are, little miss. As you were so horrified to hear, I'm the one with the gun." It was never very far away from him nowadays; sitting on the floor next to the bed where he reached for it and brought it up to set it down in front of her, facing the fire and away from either of them. "Do you need me to put it to your head to get you to do as I tell you to? Because I will, if that's what it takes."
She let one loud sob escape her mouth, then no more. When she answered him, her words were clipped and emotionless. "No. Your captive will
Similar Books
