Read Online Running Wild by Denise Eagan - Free Book Online Page A

sparkled and she let out a small gurgle of
laughter. “A hood? How terribly unfashionable of you, Nicholas. You must know
that no woman of delicacy would ever forfeit fashion for comfort.”
    As always, her laughter tickled his heart and created silly
bubbles in his belly, bringing a grin to his face. Damn, but he couldn’t help
it, he liked being with her. “No, ma’am, I’d never ask you to do that, but
there aren’t too many fashionable people where we’re going.”
    “Ah,” she said, removing her hat to reveal her dark hair
swept back as usual, into a loose knot at the back of her head, only this time
it covered her ears, no doubt to keep them warm. “And the wildlife won’t
object? You’re certain, are you?”
    “Sure enough. And I have a rifle,” he drawled, nodding to
the Winchester in its scabbard, within easy reach, “if’n they object too much,
so don’t you worry none. Won’t be any squirrels malignin’ your good name.”
    She leaned over to hand the hat to a grinning Mack. “If
you’d be so kind as to bring this to Mrs. McGraw, sir? Ever so obliging of you,
Mr. McNamara. Thank you.” She kneed her horse and they started down the valley.
“A rifle against a squirrel, Nicholas? Isn’t that far more firepower than
necessary?”
    “Maybe for one of your Eastern squirrels, but out here we
grow ’em a mite bigger.”
    “Why, I own that you do seem to grow everything a ‘mite
bigger’ out here,” she said with a seductive gleam in her eye. “I find it
remarkably intriguing.”
    Nick’s jaw tightened as he guided his horse northwest. Yup,
she was fun. And a whole slew of trouble.
    ***
    He rides , Star thought, risking a sideways glance at
Nicholas, as if he and the horse are one . Today he wore his customary
blue jean pants, his tan Stetson hat, and shiny tan leather coat. He held his
horse’s reins casually in one hand, while skillfully guiding the horse with his
knees. A perfect specimen of a man.
    And particularly difficult to seduce. It had not concerned
her during the planning of the wedding, for she’d not been able to throw her
full attention into the seduction. However, this past week she’d resumed the
endeavor with singleness of purpose, to no avail. Amused though Nicholas
appeared to be by her attempts, in all other ways he remained unmoved.
    She, on the other hand, tensed at every meeting over the
sparks fairly flying between them. At least she felt the sparks. Was it
possible he did not? The thought disarmed her. Certainly in the past men had,
from time to time, fought the lures she cast out, due to some misbegotten sense
of morality, but she’d always before secured at least some interest.
Perhaps she’d not been forward enough? Perhaps Western men, with their more
relaxed view of sexual expression, required more blatant signals.
    Perhaps she ought to concede defeat.
    She risked another glance in his direction, her eyes
coasting over his tall, straight figure and drinking in the easy confidence of
his one-handed hold on the reins: strong calloused hands, hidden under tan
leather gloves. She had never before marked a man’s hands, but Nicholas’s had
caught her interest as surely as if he’d reached for it. She remembered with
perfect clarity the sight of his long, lean fingers wrapped around a glass of
brandy—and his hard lips wrapping around the rim.
    Ah, but that mouth had seized her attention as well, and
then bedeviled her with dreams of warm, wet kisses, followed by a slow,
practiced touch, demanding a response. Oh yes, Nicholas most assuredly would
wish for a responsive woman in bed. A man as comfortable in his own skin as he
was would not require a docile female to prove his male superiority. He would
seek out an enthusiastic participant. Like her.
    The trail opened up, allowing them to ride side by side.
Shoving aside erotic thoughts, Star searched for a topic of conversation. “And
so, Nicholas,” she started, “you never have given me your position on