Running Wild Read Online Free Page B

the rail and turned to look at Star. In
the cold morning sunlight, his eyes were no longer a deep blue, but a lovely
shade between midnight and sky blue and as clear as crystal, startling in his
lightly tanned face.
    “That is very interesting language, Nicholas,” Star
said, as that heady sensual pull between them from the previous evening battled
with amusement for control of her voice.
    He stared for a spell, and then a slow smile spread across
his face. “Yes, ma’am. Reckon if you spend much time ’round a horse-breakin’
you’ll hear a deal of ‘intr’esting’ language.”
    She arched an eyebrow. “Shall I?” she asked. His smile acted
like a tonic on her blood, turning it bright and bubbly. “You know it’s the
custom back East for men to apologize should they accidentally utter such
language in front of a lady.” She waited for him to blush and make excuses.
    He didn’t.
    Instead he turned full upon her, propped his shoulder
against the top rail of the fence, and pushed his hat back in an insolent
manner that belied the mirth gleaming in his eyes. Out of the corner of her
eye, Star saw Harley climb the fence, as two men brought the horse toward him
for another go.
    “That so?” Nicholas asked. “Well I reckon it’s the custom
out West for women who don’t like cussin’ to stay away from places where she’ll
most likely hear it.”
    He held her gaze boldly, challengingly. How, she thought
shakily, how would a man who so easily thwarted convention kiss? Hard—harsh—a man’s kiss. Her lips tingled.
    “I suspect that many of the customs in the West are
different,” she said, a trifle breathlessly. “I suspect that Western men do
some things much better.”
    His eyes flashed. “Well, we sure cuss better,” he said. “But
as for much else, that’s not somethin’ I can tell for sure.”
    Her heart jerked and heat rushed through her body, bringing
her nerves to sparkling attention. Oh, she’d been right about Western men. They
were just as quick-witted as their Eastern counterparts, but freer and
uninhibited enough to enjoy toying with sexual innuendos.
    “Perhaps,” she answered, tilting her head, “those are
matters that you and I might consider exploring. I do so enjoy investigative
work, and I find that I am developing a particular fondness for Colorado.”
    “I’m sure it’d be a pleasure, ma’am, but much as it grieves
me, you’re cutting dirt tomorrow, ridin’ for Texas. Doesn’t leave much time for
explorin’.”
    “Are you entirely certain about that? Some explorations
require energy more than time,” she said, stepping toward him.
    He stood his ground, neither intimidated at her brashness as
her Eastern beaus would be, nor so ill-mannered as to take advantage of her.
His only reaction was a slight jump in his cheek, proof of a tightening jaw. “I
reckon,” he said, lowering his voice, “that’s not the case with all men. Some
men want plenty of time, too.”
    Her breath caught in her throat, then broke through to
emerge in quick little spurts. The world around them slipped away and for a
moment she couldn’t speak, could scarcely think. She was so near to him she
could smell his male scent, pine mixing tantalizingly with the fragrance of his
leather jacket and some other sharp, unknown smell. “Old—older men, I suspect,
might need more time. . . .”
    His throat worked. His right hand, encased in a big tan
glove, tightened on the fence rail. “There’s a world of difference between
‘want’ and ‘need’,” he rasped.
    Her corset was too tight. Oh far too tight. She couldn’t
breathe—
    “Virginia,” a voice called out from somewhere far away.
    Nicholas’s head jerked up. He took a step back. Then
another.
    Father—
    “Ah, I thought I should find you here.” The voice wasn’t
from somewhere far away. Either that or her father could fly, because he was
suddenly standing at her side.
    Nicholas nodded at him. “Sir.”
    “Nick. Star—are you