Read Online River Magic by Martha Hix - Free Book Online Page A

his chin.
    â€œOuch! ”
    â€œDon’t try so hard, darlin’. Let me be the man.” The major tightened his arms around India’s waist; his hands spread over her derrière. “It’s my duty to do the seducing.”
    â€œWhatever you say,” she replied as a masculine swelling pressed her tummy. With a moan low in her throat that needed no coaching, she tangled her fingers into his hair; he closed that magnificent mouth over hers.
    A lock of hair fell over his forehead—mussing military perfection. His tongue nudged past her lips, sliding behind her teeth, and she realized he was much better at kissing than Ben Wilson, the long-gone overseer’s son. This was nice!
    India fell headlong, clumsily, into the eddy of awakening passion. When the major lifted his lips, he didn’t let go his hold. His hands, experienced and masterful, continued to caress her hips and heat her vitals. Reeling, she pressed against him for support, her cheek resting on a powerful upper arm. Once she’d caught her breath, she asked, “Are you liking your birthday present, Major?”
    â€œI’m liking it to the point that I can’t help but wonder—” He moved his hands to her arms; the fingers dug in. “You’re up to something. And it’s not handing out goodies to a bunch of Rebel prisoners.”
    All she could do was brazen it out. “I, um, I’m up to warming my toes on a cold winter night.”
    He frowned. “India, don’t do this to yourself. Whoever you are, whatever you are, you’re too brave a lady to fall to the illicit. I won’t take advantage of you.”
    You’re too unattractive, that’s the problem . A dull ache in her heart, she lashed out, “You have the charm of a billy goat.”
    His generosity of spirit plummeted, as well it should have. “Who needs charm? I’m not the one trying to melt the pants off a man.” He stepped back, folding arms over his chest. “What is it, Miss Marshall? What’s of such importance that it’s worth degrading yourself to get?”
    Shame should have worked its way into her veins, but it didn’t. By gosh, she’d liked degradation, or whatever this sort of seduction was called. Nevertheless, she presented her back to the son of Memphis who would bring no smiles to his native townsfolk. “Believe me, I’ll never try to charm you again.”
    â€œFine. You’ll be leaving, anyway. Let’s keep our good-byes brief. Good night, good-bye. Now, march!”
    Determination had a word with pride, since she must get into that prison barracks, hang the cost. Besides, he was no paragon, either. “You don’t strike me as a man who’d be choosy about a woman’s morals at a time like this.”
    â€œ ‘A time like this.’ Interesting phrase, considering the politics of the times. And you, I do believe, don’t represent the Sanitary Commission. I think you’re a Confederate spy.”
    She flipped a clot of back-combed hair over her shoulder—Persia Marshall Glennie had been an excellent study—and whirled around to face her accuser. “I’m not a spy. I’m nothing more than a woman with a mission who refuses to fail.”
    She couldn’t, not before distributing the materiel bought from the proceeds from a sale of many cherished family heirlooms. Heirlooms had lost their appeal to her. Success had not. She had to get to Matt. Her brother could save a very worthy cause.
    Coiled on his rattles, the Yankee snake struck. “You may be a natural in your responses, but, lady, you haven’t had much experience kissing. How come you’re willing to warm your toes next to mine?”
    Once, she’d overheard crude men talking about someone not being able to “sell ladybirds in a log camp.” India supposed she couldn’t even give herself away in one.
    The major took a step in her