The Rustler's Bride by Tatiana March Read Free Book Online Page A

Declan’s body quiver with the effort of not moving, of not breaching the single inch that separated them. She rose higher on her toes. Their lips were nearly touching. She could feel the warm puffs of his breath as they mingled with hers in the still, pine scented air of the windowless barn.
    “You may kiss the bride,” she repeated in a soft whisper. As she spoke, her lips grazed against his, the contact as light as a butterfly’s wings.
    With a harsh growl of defeat, Declan reached out and hauled her body against his. His arms banded around her. His mouth settled over hers. She could taste desperation in his kiss—desperation and hunger and longing, and the dark shadow of loneliness. It took her by surprise, the current of understanding and empathy that flowed through her in his embrace.
    His kiss told her of days and years spent in hiding. It told her of social exclusion and the dearth of human contact. It told her of a life that lacked a future beyond the next sunrise—a life with a dark void where hopes and dreams should have been.
    Greedy and wild, his mouth devoured hers. Seconds turned into minutes. Gradually, Victoria could feel the tension in Declan’s powerful body ease. His lips gentled, until they slanted over hers with a tenderness that made her ache. In that moment, the vague ideas Victoria had been afraid to accept burst into full bloom in her mind.
    She wanted to offer him dreams.
    She wanted to offer him hope.
    She wanted to offer him a future.
    Victoria felt bereft when Declan finally lifted his head from hers. His hands slid down to her waist. Gently, he eased her into a backward step, separating their bodies.
    “No, Ria,” he said in a low voice. “This is not a good idea. This never happened. It will never happen again.” He withdrew his hands from her waist and, lifting one arm, he swept the back of his wrist across his lips, as if to wipe away the kiss.
    She’d been floating in a sensual haze. Now, the gesture that had rejection stamped all over acted like a bucketful of cold water upon her. Reality came crashing in, reality and all the constraints of polite society she’d been brought up to respect. And yet, the knowledge of what she wanted did not fade away. I merely hardened into an understanding that there would be obstacles in her way.
    “Why is it not a good idea?” she asked bluntly.
    “Ria—” Declan paused, shook his head in frustration. “You heard what your father said. You need to be careful. It’s easy for a woman to ruin her reputation.”
    “I see.”
    Had Declan known Victoria better, he might have recognized the warning note in her voice—a stubborn edge that said she was going to dig her boot heels in and refuse to budge, even an inch.
    Footsteps and masculine voices drifted by outside. Declan froze. He cocked his head to listen. When the sounds had faded into the distance, his posture relaxed. He returned his attention to her once more and said, “You need to go now, Victoria. Before anyone notices how long you’ve been alone with me.”
    Victoria recalled how a few minutes ago Declan had feigned scorn, and she chose to do the same. She lifted her chin and smirked at him. “Are you afraid of my father?”
    His eyebrows lifted in a way that told her he’d caught on to her bluff. “No,” he said. “But I’m afraid of you. Afraid for you.” He reached out one hand and touched the strands of hair that had broken free from her upsweep. “When this is all over, you’ll need to find a man to take care of you. You need to marry one of your rich, influential suitors. They can give you the kind of life you deserve.”
    Her eyes flashed in anger. “You’re as bad as my father.” She craned forward and poked her finger into his bruised chest, not caring if he flinched in pain. “I’m not going to marry by someone else’s command,” she informed him. “I’ll marry whomever I want. And if I don’t want to marry anyone at all, my father will continue to