Page 69 of Texas Honor

“Does she like it at that school?” he asked unexpectedly.

“I suppose so.” Maggie hesitated. “She doesn’t talk about it. She’s a very shy child.” She frowned. “She’s so easily upset. Perhaps it would be better if I just went home now.”

He cocked an eyebrow and slowly lit a cigarette, without once moving his eyes from her face. “What are you afraid of? That I’ll upset her? You might be surprised at the way she reacts to my temper, city girl. Most people around here aren’t that intimidated by it.”

“Of course not,” she agreed innocently. “That’s why your men hide in the bushes every morning until you’re out of sight.”

That did produce a smile, of sorts. “Kids see more than adults,” he returned mysteriously. “I’ll have to get things organized before I can leave. We’ll get away about nine.”

“You’re sure you don’t mind?” she persisted.

“I don’t put myself out for anyone unless it suits me,” he said curtly.

“Then, thank you. I’ll be ready.”

She started past him, only to find his strong hand on her upper arm, halting her beside him.

“How old are you now?” he asked, his eyes all too close, too searching. It didn’t help that her gaze dropped to his hard mouth and remembered vividly its exciting touch.

“I—I’m twenty-five,” she stammered.

He studied her quietly. “I’m thirty-eight.”

“Yes, I know.”

His eyes probed hers in a silence that began to simmer, until the world narrowed to the space they occupied. He turned, just a little, and the cigarette went careening into a large ashtray so that both lean hands could hold her there.

She flinched, and he shook his head.

“No,” he said softly. Softly! It was the first time she’d heard that slow, tender note in his deep voice. “I won’t be rough with you. Not ever again.”

Her body seemed to vibrate as she looked up at him uncomprehendingly.

“I’ve never deliberately hurt a woman before,” he said slowly. “It’s just that I’ve had so damned many prospective brides flung at my head....” His hands slid up her arms, over her shoulders, to cup her face. “I don’t like having you flinch from me, Margaret,” he whispered, bending. “So I’m going to show you what it should have been like.”

“But I don’t...” she whispered unsteadily.

He poised there, his pale eyes narrow and flashing as they met hers. “Say my name,” he breathed roughly.

“Gabe...”

As the syllable faded, he took it into his mouth. Her eyelids trembled and then closed. It was nothing like before. His lips were hard and warm but softly probing this time, brushing, lifting, savoring in a sweet tasting that was beyond her experience of men.

“That’s it,” he whispered against her slowly parting lips. “That’s right, let me have your mouth. I won’t hurt it this time.”

A tiny, soundless sob broke as he parted her lips tenderly and fit his own to them with a warm, maddening pressure that made her body ache with new and unexpected sensations.

Her hands opened over his shirt, feeling muscle and the soft prickliness of hair underneath their cool palms. His heart was beating slowly, regularly, until her nails contracted, and then his chest began to rise and fall quickly.

His lean fingers stroked gently through her hair, tilting her head back, his mouth insistent as it probed hers in a rhythm that surprised a moan from her.

She felt one of his hands spread against her cheek, and while his mouth was tormenting hers, his thumb rubbed across her lips, sensitizing them, grazing them against her teeth. She made another sound, one she didn’t even recognize, and her nails bit into his chest.

“Gabriel.” Was that whimper coming from her lips? She was reaching up without realizing it, trying to get closer, to make him kiss her more ardently, more completely.

He obliged her with lazy indulgence, forcing her head back against his shoulder with the hungry but controlled pressure of his mouth opening on hers. She felt his tongue teasing her lips, tasting their inner softness, and her body seemed to throb where it sought his.

One lean hand moved then, easing down over her shoulder to the soft blouse, finding only softer woman beneath it, and no bra—finding a hard peak that aroused him beyond bearing. His hand slid farther down, over her narrow waist, the curve of her hip, and around to the base of her spine. He drew her hips in slowly until they merged with his, and he gloried in her sudden trembling as she felt the fierce arousal of his body.

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