Outlaw's Angel by Colleen Quinn Read Free Book Online Page B

hadn’t thought of that, but it was true. Those men below who leered at her…She shuddered, refusing to complete the thought. Facing him directly, she indicated the chair.
    “Sit back down there. I still have the gun.”
    “Do you mean to hold it on me all night? You may get tired after the first five or six hours. I’m incredibly lazy, you know. I plan to enjoy a full night’s sleep.” He smiled, his face unfairly handsome and charming, robbing her of any sense of pride. “Now be a good girl and give me back the gun.”
    “No.” Marisa wondered whence this courage; from the wine, no doubt. That, and fear.
    “Give me the gun.” His voice was seductive, entrancing. He walked toward her, absolutely no hesitancy in his step, not even as moist blood appeared from his wound. Her hands shaking, Marisa lifted the gun higher, drawing back the trigger. He was three feet away, then two….She couldn’t force her fingers closed, couldn’t make herself do it. Her teeth clenched in frustration, she could do nothing as he peeled the weapon from her hand and put it safely away on the side table. She was trapped, his legs on either side of her, his arms enfolding lightly around her shoulders, gently caressing the smooth satiny slopes. Huge green eyes stared up at him and he smiled, his finger tracing the outline of her cheekbones, now washed with color.
    “Would you have killed me, my English rose? ’Tis good that I thought not; otherwise it would do me well to see to your end. You’ve been much braver and smarter than most other women. What has frightened you so much now? I only wished to see to your comfort.” He grinned as she struggled, obviously excited by her feeble maneuvers. “You keep that up and I will forget myself. Relax, my conceited beauty. I do not lie with every pretty girl I kiss, even if she kisses me back.”
    “You!…” Gasping, Marisa tried to break free, but she only succeeded in trapping herself more. Her skirts wrapped tightly about her legs in a damp, satin cage. She shivered as he undid the hooks, feeling cold air along her back and spine. The dress fell to the floor with her shift, a sodden weight released from her body. She reached for it, but with a swift kick of his polished boot, the garment landed close to the fire. Nearly sobbing, Marisa crossed her arms over her breasts as he released her, stepping back a bit.
    “You are lovely.” He gazed at her with open admiration. Marisa blushed as his eyes travelled freely over her naked body, lingering in an intoxicating caress where she crossed her arms, and lower. He reached for the wine bottle, his eyes never leaving her, his gaze drinking fully of her charms. In the dim firelight, her skin seemed like ivory, perfectly carved, flawless. Her small breasts looked fuller with her attempts to conceal them, and her slender legs were wonderfully shaped, a masterpiece of petal-like skin and muscle. His hand reached out and touched her, a soft gentle caress as it followed a curl of her disheveled hair down to her shoulders, then onto her breast.
    To her intense shame, Marisa felt a rising spark, somewhere deep within her, in response to his touch. Even before he bent his head and kissed her, the blood flowed more quickly through her veins, burning her, making her aware of the rough surface of his hands, the buttons of his shirt as he embraced her, the perfect meld of her body with his as they fitted together. His mouth took hers with unrestrained desire. It was almost as if he transferred the passion within himself to her. Another woman possessed her, making her writhe in his embrace, she who was to be wed this very night to another man….
    The thought was like an icy bucket of water. The wine cleared from Marisa’s head. She tore away from him, panting, astonished and furious at herself. He had but to touch her and she was like an animal, forgetting her vows, forgetting everything except the sensual promise that lay in his arms.
    “Murderer!”