Some Like It Wild by Teresa Medeiros Read Free Book Online Page B

have been no less paralyzed.
    He leaned closer, covering her with his shadow. She gasped aloud at the cool kiss of the pistol’s mouth against her temple.
    His voice deepened to a husky whisper as he stroked the barrel down her cheek to the curve of her jaw. “It’s so beautiful, yet so dangerous. Much like its mistress.”
    The barrel brushed her trembling lips so softly she might have imagined it, then glided slowlydownward to the delicate hollow at the base of her throat. She closed her eyes, feeling her flesh betray her by heating beneath that steely caress.
    Her eyes flew open as the barrel of the pistol continued its downward slide, nudging the lapel of her pelisse aside until the mouth of the pistol was resting against the soft swell of her breast, directly over her stuttering heart.
    Connor looked her dead in the eye.
    And pulled the trigger.
    A bouquet of colorful feathers burst from the pistol’s muzzle while the music box concealed within its grip lurched into a bright and tinkling tune. Pamela flinched and let out a muffled shriek, her nerves completely undone by his wicked game.
    Connor leaned back and blew across the mouth of the gun, ruffling the plume of feathers. His gray eyes sparkled with devilish amusement.
    Pamela glared up at him, her heart still on the verge of pounding its way out of her chest. “How long have you known?”
    “I began to suspect it was nothin’ more than a toy when you were so squeamish about pointin’ my own pistol at me.”
    “And if you had been wrong?”
    He shrugged. “We wouldn’t be havin’ this conversation, now, would we?” As if unable to resist the temptation, he tickled her beneath her chin with the plume of feathers like a doting uncle trying to coax a smile from a surly baby.
    Infuriated by his cavalier attitude, she smacked the gun out of his hand. It went skittering acrossthe floor and struck the stone wall, its last tinkling note dying on an off-key whine.
    “If you knew the gun was only a prop, then why did you allow yourself to be taken captive?”
    He grinned. “I was still holdin’ out hope you and your sister might ravish me.”
    The reappearance of his dimple only made her feel more peevish. “Why? Did your favorite sheep run away?”
    The dimple vanished. He folded his brawny arms over his chest, deliberately deepening his burr. “Oh, we only dally with the livestock when we canna find a willin’ woman.”
    “Or an unwilling one?” she snapped, regretting the words the instant they left her lips.
    Their gazes collided and held until the smoldering heap of logs on the fire collapsed in a cascade of fiery sparks. Pamela was the first to look away.
    When she finally spoke, her voice was low but steady. “Set my sister free. She doesn’t deserve to be punished for my folly. See her to safety and I won’t fight you. I’ll…I’ll…”—she swallowed and closed her eyes—”I’ll do whatever pleases you.”
    Connor gazed down at Pamela’s averted face, his wayward imagination providing lurid images of all the things she could do that might please him. A faint blush graced her cheek. She was an English rose, never meant to bloom in the stony soil of this wild and brutal land. And here he stood with the power to crush her tender petals—and her prickly pride—in his fist. The realization should have made him feel strong, invincible. Instead, hefelt dirty and dangerous. Like a man who would tear a flower from the dirt just so he could watch it wither in his hand.
    “That’s a noble offer indeed, lass. And a very temptin’ one as well. But I’ve no intention of throwin’ your wee lamb of a sister—or you—to that pack of wolves in the next room.”
    He had to admire her nerve as she mustered up the courage to look him in the eye. “What about the wolf in this room?”
    The wolf in this room had spent too many years paying for his pleasures with stolen coins and was starved for a morsel of something tender.
    Afraid she would catch a