Rexanne Becnel

Rexanne Becnel by The Troublemaker Read Free Book Online

Book: Rexanne Becnel by The Troublemaker Read Free Book Online
Authors: The Troublemaker
him good. He knew only one way to silence a riled woman and so he took it. He captured her pursed mouth with a hard, aggressive kiss.
    It achieved the desired result, for no other words assayed from between those lips. But it had another effect as well, not altogether surprising, but not welcome either.
    For the moment he pressed his mouth to hers, desire leaped within him like a hungry beast, demanding more than merely one chaste kiss. Though he knew he should not, Marsh deepened the kiss, conscious of her feminine weight upon his lap, her faint, floral fragrance wafting around his head, and her delectable mouth softening beneath his own.
    He wanted more of this.
    But when he parted those luscious lips and delved deep within the recesses of that sweet, tart mouth, she stiffened, and he knew the moment was done. Before she could resume her tirade, he set her aside, jumped to his feet, then hauled her rudely upright.
    “In the future, I suggest you find a more placid mount, since you obviously cannot manage this one.” Whether he referred to himself or the mare, however, he was not entirely certain.
    He strode up the bank, snatched the sorrel’s reins, and proceeded to check the animal for injury. But he was vitally aware of every movement Sarah Palmer made. How she shook out her disordered skirts and surreptitiously rubbed her bottom. When she intercepted his bold stare, she wrapped her arms around her waist and frowned.
    At least she was not hurt, nor, apparently, was her horse. He, however, was feeling the very real ache of an inappropriate arousal.
    “Your horse seems all right to ride,” he muttered, and led the animal over to Sarah.
    She took one step back from him, but no more. “You should not have taken hold of her bridle.” When he did not respond, but only stared steadily into her wide blue eyes, she gritted her teeth and stuck out her jaw. “And you had no business at all kissing me like that.”
    “No? What way would you have me kiss you?”
    “No way at all!” Her eyes flashed as she snatched the reins from his hand.
    “Can I help you up?”
    She gave a rude snort. “I believe you’ve helped me quite enough already.”
    So Marsh stood there and watched her mount with a sweep of dirtied skirts and petticoats. He admired the glimpse he had of her stockinged ankle, and the rigid set of her spine as she settled herself on the saddle. She was furious and embarrassed and, if he was lucky, just a little bit intrigued.
    He grinned as she sent him a scathing look, then wheeled the horse and rode away. He’d either won her over or condemned himself completely in her eyes. He’d learn soon enough which it was.

Chapter 4
    S ARAH worked the well-worn pair of grooming brushes over the sorrel mare with an energy that, unfortunately, did nothing to dispel her terrible anxiety.
    What had she been about, kissing that man?
    It did no good to tell herself that he had started it all. He had taken hold of her horse’s bridle. He had caused the startled animal to rear and her to fall.
    Every bit of it was true. Yet there was another truth, and it was that which had her in such a state. He had kissed her; but she had kissed him back.
    She pressed her lips together and brushed the mare’s withers and side, hand over hand, as she hadn’t done in a year or more. Not two days in Scotland and she was already courting disaster. And as usual, there was a man involved.
    But what a man , the traitorous thought intruded. Big. Dangerous. Fascinating despite his arrogant manner. She’d never been so affected by a kiss before. Never.
    Then again, she’d thought the very same thing about Lord Penley’s stolen kisses. They’d been swift, but they’d been accompanied by effusive vows of love and eternal devotion. How foolish she’d been. For she could see now that Lord Penley’s kisses were nothing when compared to the violent passion that Marshall MacDougal had unleashed on her.
    Or was the violent passion generated from

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