Sam’s Creed by Sarah McCarty Read Free Book Online

in a flat line…and stared.
    And then, catching her fists in his hand, he laughed. A real laugh that scalded her pride. A laugh that made her not care how handsome he was. A laugh that had her struggling wildly as he drew her arms wide and dropped a kiss on the end of her nose. And then her mouth. Their first kiss, and he had not asked!
    She struggled harder. He paid no mind, just kept his lips on hers, letting her struggles dictate the pressure in soft slides and quick jerks. Her thighs brushed against his, her chest against his abdomen. Her struggles slowed as anger changed to something softer, something as fragile as the next skim of his mouth over hers. Her arms were pulled wider, bringing her body flush against his much bigger one. His lips parted just a hint. There was the moistness of his breath and then the shocking glide of his tongue, gentle and tantalizing, along the seam of her lips. Lightning flared in a brilliant arc along her nerve endings, jerking her up onto her toes before tossing her back.
    Sam let her go. She did not immediately back away, anger and something else keeping her feet planted in place. Though he stood a foot away, Isabella could still feel the pressure of his lips, the heat of his breath, the temptation he presented. Why did he fascinate her so?
    She clenched her fists. “You had no right to do that.”
    “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
    He didn’t sound sorry, but she was. “I am sorry I poured the spirits on your wound. Though it needed to be done, I should not have done it like that.”
    He cocked his head to the side and a grin ghosted his lips. “You just can’t help it, can you?”
    “What?”
    “Sounding so high-and-mighty.”
    “I think my poor English gives the impression of arrogance.”
    Sam’s smile broadened. “Yeah, that’s likely it.”
    She had the distinct feeling he was laughing at her. He had no right to laugh. He was as wrong as she was. Putting her hands on her hips, she challenged him. “Kisses should not be stolen.”
    “I agree.”
    “They should be given freely.”
    He turned and headed back to the fire, obviously favoring his injured leg. “No one’s arguing with you, Bella.”
    He didn’t need to be so agreeable when she wanted to fight. She followed more slowly, her conscience nagging her. The alcohol must still burn. The truth popped out as it always did when she felt guilty. “Maybe I am arguing with myself.”
    Sam sat back on the rock and pulled one of the sticks off the fire. A piece of the fillet fell off. In a move almost too fast for her to see, he caught it, tossing it in his hand to cool it. Shadows jumped on the wall in wild accompaniment. Her heart jumped with the same silly excitement as he cocked an eyebrow at her. “Now, why would you do that?”
    She owed him for the manner in which she’d cleaned his wound. “Because I think it is wrong to enjoy stolen kisses.”
    His expression closed up. “Very likely.”
    She’d chosen honesty as a penance, but she had no idea it would be so hard to see it through. It would be easier to let him continue to think what he obviously was—that she was talking about him—but that wouldn’t be fair. Her cheeks burning hotter than the heat coming off the fire, she whispered, “But I enjoyed yours.”
    He dropped the fish into the fire. It was the only sign her words had thrown him.
    “Why?”
    There was a limit to how far she would atone, and he had reached it.
    “I do not know why.” She glared at him. “You are a very provoking man. By rights I should shoot you.”
    He fished dinner out of the fire. “The man who saved your life?”
    She sat down on the rock a couple feet away. “That would make me ungrateful.”
    He handed her the other fillet. The one not covered in ash. The consideration made her feel even more guilty. “But?”
    He was an astute man to hear the but in her voice. “You are aggravating.”
    “Because I won’t stitch a crease?”
    That and other things, but