The Complete Mackenzie Collection Read Online Free PDF Page A

own.
    He could take her to bed now; she was that far gone, and he knew it. But when he did, it would be because she had consciously made the decision, not because she was so hot she didn’t know what she was doing. Her inexperience was obvious; he’d even had to teach her how to kiss—the thought stopped as abruptly as if he’d hit a mental wall, as he realized the full extent of her inexperience. Damn it, she was a virgin !
    The thought staggered him. She was looking at him now with those grayish blue eyes both innocent and questioning, languid with desire, as she waited for him to make the next move. She didn’t know what to do. Her arms were locked around his neck, her body pressed tightly to his, her legs opened slightly to allow him to nestle against her, and she was waiting for him because she didn’t have a clue how to proceed. She hadn’t even been kissed before. No man had touched those soft breasts, or taken her nipples in his mouth. No man had loved her at all before.
    He swallowed the lump that threatened to choke him, his eyes still locked with hers. “God Almighty, lady, that nearly got out of hand.”
    She blinked. “Did it?” Her tone was prim, the words clear, but the dazed, sleepy look was still in her eyes.
    Slowly, because he didn’t want to let her go, and gently, because he knew he had to, he let her body slip down his until she was standing on her feet again. She was innocent of the ramifications, but he wasn’t. He was Wolf Mackenzie, half-breed, and she was the schoolteacher. The good citizens of Ruth wouldn’t want her associating with him; she was in charge of their young people, with untold influence on their forming morals. No parents would want their impressionable daughter being taught by a woman who was having a wild fling with an Indian ex-con. Why, she might even entice their sons! His prison record could be accepted, but his Indian blood would never go away.
    So he had to let her go, no matter how much he wanted to take her to his bedroom and teach her all the things that went on between a man and a woman.
    Her arms were still around his neck, her fingers buried in the hair at his nape. She seemed incapable of movement. He reached up to take her wrists and draw her hands away from him.
    “I think I’ll come back later.”
    A new voice intruded in Mary’s dreamworld of newly discovered sensuality, and she jerked away, color burning her cheeks as she whirled to face the newcomer. A tall, dark-haired boy stood just inside the kitchen door, his hat in his hand. “Sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean to barge in.”
    Wolf stepped away from her. “Stay. She came to see you, anyway.”
    The boy looked at her quizzically. “You could have fooled me.”
    Wolf merely shrugged. “This is Miss Mary Potter, the new schoolteacher. Miss Potter, my son, Joe.”
    Even through her embarrassment, Mary was jolted that he would call her “Miss Potter” after the intimacy they had just shared. But he seemed so calm and controlled, as if it hadn’t affected him at all, while every nerve in her body was still jangling. She wanted to fling herself against him and give herself up to that encompassing fire.
    Instead she stood there, her arms stiffly at her sides while her face burned, and forced herself to look at Joe Mackenzie. He was the reason she was here, and she wouldn’t allow herself to forget it again. As her embarrassment faded, she saw that he was very like his father. Though he was only sixteen, he was already six feet tall and would likely match his father’s height, just as his broad young shoulders showed the promise of being as powerful. His face was a younger version of Wolf’s, as strong-boned and proud, the features precisely chiseled. He was calm and controlled, far too controlled for a sixteen-year-old, and his eyes, oddly, were pale, glittering blue. Those eyes held something in them, something untamed, as well as a sort of bitter acceptance and knowledge that made him old beyond