Page 7 of That Fateful Ride

Immediately soaked stepping onto the ground, he hurried to his destination. He saw one flickering light the closer he got and he pushed through the door shaking the excess water off his head. Running a hand down his face, he peered around. Movement in the back corner caught his eye so he headed there. Turning the corner of the final bunk he froze as if he’d run smack into a wall. His jaw dropped open and lust hit him again, a hundred times the intensity of his reaction to the feminine voice in the barn.

Robert was a girl. No, correction, not a girl. A woman. No man had a figure like that. Even with the bindings around her torso—which explained how she passed as Robert—he now wondered how he’d missed it. Although it explained some of the differences he’d noticed.

“Where’s Robert and who the hell are you?”

Anger began to leech into him as he realized how endangered she’d been by riding the route. She jumped and spun around, eyes wide. He watched her gaze flick between him and the gun hanging near. Tension exploded throughout the room. They lunged for the weapon at the same time.

He had no doubt, she got to it first, he was going to have a bullet lodged in him somewhere.

Her fingers grasped the handle as his heavier weight bore her to the thin mattress. Preservation instincts honed dagger sharp in the Army took over and he rolled them from the narrow bed to the floor. The gun scattered across the wooden planks.

She didn’t cease her struggles, in fact, they increased. Her hands whirled like demons, landing several painful blows on him. Stars exploded behind his eyes when her knee landed a direct hit between his legs.

“Christ, would you just hold still!”

Capturing her wrists in his hands, he placed them above her head. He stared down at her. It was a punch to the gut. He had no clue how he’d mistaken her for a man. She had Robert’s features but here, now, this close there was no doubt she wasallwoman.

She bucked against him to no avail. All it did was reaffirm it was a woman beneath him. Because he’d walked in on her binding her breasts, the wrap was loose and he felt them. Full, rounded, pert and things he wanted in his hands. In his mouth.

Fuck! Now he was getting hard. Well, harder.

“Hold still.” He barked the order while trying to convince his body he wasn’t attracted to her. It wasn’t easy. She had large brown eyes framed by thick lashes, full lips he wanted to kiss, and a haughty expression, which made him, want to morph into one of pure pleasure. All it would take would be to lower his head and…

“Get off me.”

“I don’t think so. You need to answer some questions.” He kind of liked being on her.

Her chest rose and fell with her rapid breaths and for a second he witnessed a glimpse of fear. She masked it quickly and he saw it from her point of view. A woman, a black woman, trapped beneath the body of a white man in a cabin where no one would help her if she screamed. He felt bad but he wasn’t about to let her move until he had answers. She would just have to come to realize he wouldn’t hurt her.

“So ask so I can finish getting dressed.” Her words were matter-of-fact.

Cy tried desperately to forget how good she felt beneath him. “Who are you?” The question came out harsher than he intended. Still she never flinched.She’s got grit. I’ll give her that.

“Rebecca. Robert’s twin.”

He scrambled off her. “Get dressed.” He wasn’t strong enough to resist the temptation. Still, he was no fool and went to retrieve her gun.

She moved gingerly, her gaze remained locked on him. As she gained her feet, he dragged his gaze up and down her near nakedness. She never asked him for privacy, merely turned her back to retighten her bindings. Once her shirt was back on, she faced him again; her eyes flickered to her gun that he retained. He watched her strap on some knives and realized she wouldn’t be easy to overpower.

“Why are you here?” Her expression told him of her reluctance to talk. “Tell me,” he ordered.

“Robert got injured. He’s laid up in bed.”

That was it. She didn’t elaborate on his injury. Nothing of the sort. Just stated an answer as he’d wanted.

“So you just decided to take his place?”

“We counted on that pay to help the family. Besides, I can do this. Iamdoing this.”

He shook his head. “Not anymore.”

She’d sat to tie a blue bandana on her head, but shot to her feet at his comment. “What?”

He crossed his arms, fingers still curved around the gun. “I can’t let a girl ride this.”

“You didn’t even know I was one until you came bursting in here. I can do this. Ihaveto do this.”

Her big brown eyes shone with tears he knew—deep in his gut—she wouldn’t shed.

---