Patricia Hagan Read Online Free PDF Page B

Yankee men. You think I’d marry a Yankee?”
    He laughed softly but not unkindly. “Who says you have to marry a Yankee? Not all the Southern men were killed in the war, you know.”
    She gave her long braid a toss. “Who says a woman has to have a man? I don’t have to have a husband,” she challenged him, cinnamon eyes sparkling in the golden firelight.
    He reached out to touch her hair, and she drew back. “No. Don’t move,” he commanded tersely, deftly unfastening her braid. He ran his fingers through the strands to loosen it, and her hair fell softly around her shoulders.
    Holly shivered. Why was she reacting so strangely? Why could this man provoke her with just a touch?
    His hand dropped to her shoulder and he gazed down at her warmly, so warmly. “Pretty. But you try not to be. Why?”
    Embarrassed, Holly squirmed like a child. “I don’t. I…mean I’m not,” she stammered. “I’m just not interested in things like…romance.”
    He smiled. “Not interested, Holly?” He pressed his mouth to hers, gently at first, and then his kiss became warm, seeking, lips parting as his tongue began to probe.
    Holly meant to push him away, to twist her head from side to side and escape his tantalizing lips, but something deeper urged her to cling to him, to answer that fiery kiss. His lips were setting hers on fire, and she felt the flames spreading wildly.
    Suddenly, she pulled back, trying to wrench away, but he held her tightly, wrapping his arms around her to hold her against that rock-hard chest. “No, we mustn’t! Please!” she gasped.
    His eyes searched hers. She looked at him just as boldly, and knew herself lost.
    He brushed his lips against hers again and she trembled, afraid. “You don’t want me to stop, Holly,” he told her sternly. “You want me to make love to you.”
    She said nothing, and he asked, “Have you ever been with a man?”
    She shook her head, and he trailed a gentle fingertip down her cheek. “I thought not. You little hypocrite. You just wanted to be able to say, later, that I forced you. You want everything you know I can give you, but you won’t admit it.”
    His hand slipped to her breast, and she came out of her stupor. Slapping his hand away, she hissed, “No! You’re wrong! Now let me go, please. This shouldn’t have happened. We shouldn’t have…”
    He released her but continued to gaze deeply into her eyes. “If I’ve offended you, I’m sorry. You probably need time to grow up.” He added, “I’ve never had to force myself on a woman, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to start with a kid.”
    Nodding toward the fire and the roasting meat, he asked, “Would you like me to just take my portion and go?”
    “No. Stay,” she said quickly. Then, softly, she added, “I enjoy talking with you. I’m just not interested in…other things.”
    He smiled at her and suddenly the tension was gone again. They sat side by side and ate the succulent food, then sipped hot coffee and talked easily together. Holly told him of her love of the river and the swamps and the woods, and he tried to describe his Texas homeland. They skirted conversation about the war. Night settled in, a thick shroud over everything, and they were consumed by darkness, their faces illuminated only by the soft, flickering flames.
    Holly was completely relaxed as she leaned back against the tree and closed her eyes. Scott’s voice droned on, fading away as, finally, she succumbed to the sweeping hand of sleep.
     
    Sun was streaming across Holly’s face, and she stretched in the warmth. Then it all came rushing back and she sat up, looking around. He was gone.
    “Did you miss me?”
    He stepped into the clearing, carrying limbs and twigs, which he dropped on the dead ashes of last night’s fire.
    He smiled in that mysterious way. Was it a genuine smile, or was it arrogance? “Don’t worry. Nothing happened. When it does, I want you awake to enjoy it.”
    She was about to inform him that