Warrior's Embrace Read Online Free

just somebody. Bolton Gray Wolf.
    o0o
    He couldn’t get her off his mind, not even
when he saw her empty table. As he walked out of the restaurant,
Bolton studied every nook and cranny, looked twice at every woman
with honey-blond hair, hoping for a glimpse of Virginia.
    She stayed with him on the drive back to his
motel and all the while he surfed through the channels. He was not
one to watch television, but, cooped up in his room, there was
nothing else to do. Each image on the screen brought to mind some
small detail of Virginia. The female reporter on the ten o’clock
news had lips nearly as ripe and rosy as hers. The first guest on
the late show had her long, slender legs; the next, her throaty
chuckle.
    He closed his eyes and saw Virginia galloping
across the fields on her white Arabian, saw the autumn leaves and
dust swirling around her so that she approached him like someone in
a dream, half hidden by mists.
    When the late show was over, he began to
undress for bed. The ring box fell out of his pocket. Guilty, he
picked it up. He had promised to call Janice when he got to
Mississippi.
    He glanced at the clock, hoping it was too
late. Almost midnight. He could tell himself that she’d already be
asleep, that there was no need to wake her, but he’d never been one
to lie, not even to himself. Janice would be waiting up for him,
anxious, maybe even crying.
    He picked up the phone, and she answered on
the first ring.
    “Bolton. Where in the world are you?”
    “Northeast Mississippi, home of Elvis Presley
and Virginia Haven.”
    “That woman you’ve gone to interview.”
    “Yes, that woman.”
    He could hear her soft sniffle, then the
forced cheer in her voice.
    “I don’t want you to think I’ve been hanging
around the phone waiting, Bolton. I know you’re perfectly capable
of taking care of yourself. I’m not the least bit worried.”
    “That’s great, Janice.”
    “Bolton...” Again that small sniffle. “I
don’t have anything to worry about, do I?”
    He fingered the ring box he’d laid on the
bedside table.
    “Not a thing, Janice.”
    Except a woman called Virginia Haven, a woman
who had galloped her white Arabian through the golden leaves of
autumn and straight into his heart.

 
THREE
    The first thing Virginia did when she woke up
was reach for the phone. She’d call Bolton to do the interview and
get it over with. Then he could go back to Apache land and she
could go back to her safe and trusty computer.
    As she reached for the receiver she caught
sight of her face in the three-way mirror over her dressing table.
Without a speck of makeup she looked every bit of forty-eight, if
not more. She’d bathe and repair the damage and
then
she’d
call Bolton.
    She’d been in one of her reckless moods when
she designed her bathroom. It had floor-to-ceiling windows that
faced a private courtyard and skylights that she could open in
summertime to let the morning sun pour down on banks of ferns.
Virginia could never get enough light in her house. As if all that
natural light weren’t enough, one full wall of mirrors was
surrounded by incandescent bulbs.
    It was a bathroom made for lovers, with space
for tumbling naked on the floor together, a tub big enough for
frolic, and plenty of mirrors to view the fun.
    As she leaned over the tub and turned on the
water, Virginia thought again of Bolton.
    “When I come to your bed, you won’t be a
conquest. You will be an equal.” Her mind replayed Bolton’s soft,
seductive promise. Not
if,
but
when.
    She closed her eyes and imagined being in his
bed, in his arms. Passion long repressed came boiling to the
surface. With her gift for fantasy, she imagined a Bolton so real
she reached out and caressed his fine, hard body with her left
hand. With her other she brought herself to a trembling climax.
    The sound of cascading water drew her back to
reality. Her bath was threatening to overflow and flood her floor.
Sunlight, relentless and unmerciful, poured through