Read Online Judith E French by Morgan's Woman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Morgan's Woman
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plenty of solid marriages were built on respect and friendship. He’d known real love, the kind you’d rush into fire for, and he didn’t look to see it again this side of the hereafter.
He damn sure wasn’t looking for it in a female like Tamsin MacGreggor. If she stirred his nether parts, it was pure lust and nothing more. He was a man with as strong a hunger as any other, but he prided himself on being able to control his physical needs. She was his prisoner. He’d shoot her if he had to, but he’d not take advantage of her.
He settled onto a flat boulder and waited for Tamsin to beg him to find her a worm and thread it on the hook. To his surprise, she turned over a few stones, found what she was looking for, and baited the hook herself.
Mosquitoes buzzed around Ash’s head, and he was glad for his coat despite the heat. He stretched out his long legs and massaged an old scar he’d received during the war.
The tip of Tamsin’s pole bobbed, then dived toward the surface of the water. She set the hook and pulled in a two-pound trout. “See,” she called to him. “My breakfast. I’ll see what you’re having next.”
She got another nibble and then nothing. Ash cleaned the first fish. Minutes passed.
“Do you want to try this while I …” She left the rest unfinished.
He nodded. “Long as you go downstream away from the camp. Not too far, around that bend. I doubt you’ll try to escape without those horses.”
“Right now I’m more interested in food than gettingaway,” she replied coolly. “I do have a change of clothing in my saddlebags. These are—”
“Quit while you’re ahead.” He took the fishing pole from her.
She looked unconvinced. “I have your word you won’t … won’t spy on me?”
“Lady, we just spent the night together. If I meant you harm, there wouldn’t have been a damn thing you could do about it. Go wash your unmentionables.”
Tamsin muttered under her breath as she picked her way through the bushes along the creekbank. Ash turned his attention to fishing. Immediately, something nibbled at the bait. He missed that one but soon caught another trout. He stayed where he was, but he couldn’t stop his thoughts from wandering down the creek. He wondered what Tamsin MacGreggor looked like without her clothes. She was slim, not nearly as well endowed as most of the ladies at Maudine’s, but he would have bet his saddle she was prime.
Thinking that way was enough to make a man overly warm. He ran a forefinger under his collar and called to her. “You still there?”
“Yes!”
He brought in two more fish before Tamsin rejoined him. Her cheeks were scrubbed rosy, and she’d braided her wet hair into a single plait that hung down her back. She smelled good, woman-clean without a hint of heavy perfume.
“About time,” he grumbled. “I’ve got two fish apiece. With the coffee, that should do us. Of course, we could use biscuits.”
“The bread you had in your pack could never be considered biscuits,” she replied. “Heavy, stale, nasty lumps of flour and grease.”
“You ate them, didn’t you?”
Ignoring him, she undid her fishing line from the pole and coiled it up and put it in her pocket. “I’m the prisoner,” she said. “You can cook the fish.”
“Intended to. That way I’ll know it’s cooked.”
They walked in silence back to the camp, and Ash forced himself to tear his gaze off the sway of Tamsin’s shapely hips in that riding skirt.
It was easy to see why Jack Cannon would be attracted to her, even if she was a cut above his usual choice in women. Ash wanted to ask her why the outlaw had let her ride off alone into these mountains and where she intended to meet up with him, but he didn’t. It had been Ash’s experience that a lady would lie to protect her man faster than a horse could trot. Just listening usually paid off in the end.
Back at the fire, Tamsin found more kindling and saddled her mare while he grilled the four
He damn sure wasn’t looking for it in a female like Tamsin MacGreggor. If she stirred his nether parts, it was pure lust and nothing more. He was a man with as strong a hunger as any other, but he prided himself on being able to control his physical needs. She was his prisoner. He’d shoot her if he had to, but he’d not take advantage of her.
He settled onto a flat boulder and waited for Tamsin to beg him to find her a worm and thread it on the hook. To his surprise, she turned over a few stones, found what she was looking for, and baited the hook herself.
Mosquitoes buzzed around Ash’s head, and he was glad for his coat despite the heat. He stretched out his long legs and massaged an old scar he’d received during the war.
The tip of Tamsin’s pole bobbed, then dived toward the surface of the water. She set the hook and pulled in a two-pound trout. “See,” she called to him. “My breakfast. I’ll see what you’re having next.”
She got another nibble and then nothing. Ash cleaned the first fish. Minutes passed.
“Do you want to try this while I …” She left the rest unfinished.
He nodded. “Long as you go downstream away from the camp. Not too far, around that bend. I doubt you’ll try to escape without those horses.”
“Right now I’m more interested in food than gettingaway,” she replied coolly. “I do have a change of clothing in my saddlebags. These are—”
“Quit while you’re ahead.” He took the fishing pole from her.
She looked unconvinced. “I have your word you won’t … won’t spy on me?”
“Lady, we just spent the night together. If I meant you harm, there wouldn’t have been a damn thing you could do about it. Go wash your unmentionables.”
Tamsin muttered under her breath as she picked her way through the bushes along the creekbank. Ash turned his attention to fishing. Immediately, something nibbled at the bait. He missed that one but soon caught another trout. He stayed where he was, but he couldn’t stop his thoughts from wandering down the creek. He wondered what Tamsin MacGreggor looked like without her clothes. She was slim, not nearly as well endowed as most of the ladies at Maudine’s, but he would have bet his saddle she was prime.
Thinking that way was enough to make a man overly warm. He ran a forefinger under his collar and called to her. “You still there?”
“Yes!”
He brought in two more fish before Tamsin rejoined him. Her cheeks were scrubbed rosy, and she’d braided her wet hair into a single plait that hung down her back. She smelled good, woman-clean without a hint of heavy perfume.
“About time,” he grumbled. “I’ve got two fish apiece. With the coffee, that should do us. Of course, we could use biscuits.”
“The bread you had in your pack could never be considered biscuits,” she replied. “Heavy, stale, nasty lumps of flour and grease.”
“You ate them, didn’t you?”
Ignoring him, she undid her fishing line from the pole and coiled it up and put it in her pocket. “I’m the prisoner,” she said. “You can cook the fish.”
“Intended to. That way I’ll know it’s cooked.”
They walked in silence back to the camp, and Ash forced himself to tear his gaze off the sway of Tamsin’s shapely hips in that riding skirt.
It was easy to see why Jack Cannon would be attracted to her, even if she was a cut above his usual choice in women. Ash wanted to ask her why the outlaw had let her ride off alone into these mountains and where she intended to meet up with him, but he didn’t. It had been Ash’s experience that a lady would lie to protect her man faster than a horse could trot. Just listening usually paid off in the end.
Back at the fire, Tamsin found more kindling and saddled her mare while he grilled the four
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