Warrior's Embrace Read Online Free PDF Page B

mistaken notions. I know
exactly what this is: it’s a wildly passionate affair that will end
as soon as this interview is over.”
    “I’m not doing the interview.”
    “What?”
    “You heard me. I won’t do the interview.”
    “But you
have
to. It’s your
job.”
    “I choose the jobs I want to do. I’m choosing
not to do this one.”
    He set her on her feet and pinned her against
the tree.
    “You can’t do that,” she said.
    “Do what, Virginia? Keep you pinned against
this tree?” His eyes sparkled with mischief as he pressed his hips
closer. “Just watch me.”
    “You’re impossible.”
    “I’m half Apache. We’re known for taking the
women we love captive, especially ornery, opinionated, stubborn
women like you.”
    “Stubborn? I don’t hold a candle to you,
Bolton Gray Wolf.”
    “What happened to make you so distrustful of
men, Virginia?”
    “Is this an interview question?”
    “I told you, I’m no longer doing the
interview.”
    “You
have
to.”
    “Why?”
    “Because I’ve promised to grant one
interview, and if you don’t do it, then I’ll be stuck with some
arrogant upstart who’d like nothing better than to dish the dirt on
me.
    “Does that mean you no longer suspect me of
going to bed with you so I can learn your secrets?”
    “I didn’t say that.”
    “Not exactly in those words.”
    “Look... can I help it if I have this
built-in distrust of journalists?”
    “Haven’t we gone beyond that, Virginia? When
are you going to start viewing me as a person instead of a
profession? When are you going to learn to trust me?”
    “You’re tough. No wonder you’re good.”
    “In bed or in the magazines?”
    “Both,” she said. Bolton’s smile was slow and
easy. “All right... all right. I admit it. I trust you, Bolton. As
much as I can trust any of you.”
    “Good. Then I’ll do the interview.”
    He studied her for so long, she felt as if he
were probing her with laser beams.
    “Back to my original question: What happened
to make you distrust men?”
    This time he didn’t protest when she walked
away. With the instinct given to all men who love nature, he
understood that there were times when all creatures must be free.
He knew that unless he let Virginia go, he could never keep her,
never even
hope
to keep her.
    Her stride was long and determined, and for a
moment it looked as if she meant to stalk all the way to her house
and never look back. He stood with his feet firmly planted,
resisting the urge to follow her.
    There was something magnificent in her anger.
The way her skirts swished left no doubt in his mind that
underneath was a body seething and ready to explode. That was one
of the things he loved about Virginia: She never did anything
halfway. Whether she was making love or expressing her rage, she
put her entire self into it. With her there was no pouting, no
sniffling, no retreating into silence. With Virginia, he knew
exactly where he stood.
    And at the moment, he was at the edge of the
woods all by himself, literally as well as figuratively.
    He knew the minute she made up her mind to
turn back. Her skirt told the story. The angry, swishing skirt
began a gentle swaying. Bolton held his breath, watching. The sun
had all but disappeared, leaving a red-gold glow that reflected in
Virginia’s honey-colored hair and on face.
    It was a picture too good to miss. He aimed
and fired. He would never tire of watching Virginia, never tire of
photographing her. With or without the lens she was a subject
worthy of hours and days and years of contemplation.
    When she turned and saw the camera, she
smiled.
    “You can’t resist a good shot, can you?” she
said.
    “I can’t resist you.”
    She came back up the path to him, and he
didn’t stop shooting until she stood two feet away, eyes lifted to
his.
    “You are irresistible,” she whispered. “I
can’t walk away from you like that.”
    He took her hands, lifted them to his lips,
and kissed her open