Western Man Read Online Free

all proportion.
    Long ago Sharon had stopped trying to second-guess his motives, so she didn’t allow herself to wonder whether he was caught in a past memory when his calloused fingers laid themselves against the curve of her neck. He bent his head toward her, the brim of his hat partially masking the skimming inspection of his gaze.
    She had learned that a kiss from Ridge was nothing more than a kiss. Avoiding it would makemore out of it than what it was. The trick was to accept it
without
making more out of it than it was.
    The warm pressure of his mouth covered her lips and moved familiarly to take possession. His hand tightened slightly on her neck to arch her into the kiss. An encircling arm was bringing her against his body. Sharon relaxed naturally against his hard frame, letting her hands slide around his middle.
    Her lips moved under the investigative influence of his. The stirrings of hunger escaped her restraint and became a part of her response. Sharon wavered, wanting to draw back from the edge of this unexpected precipice, but Ridge pressed the issue with deepening insistence. Her indecision dissolved under the heat of raw longing.
    There was a slow disentangling of their lips. Her breath was coming low and shallow, as disturbed as the uneven rhythm of her pulse. Sharon was careful not to let her expression show just how much his kiss had affected her. Her gaze she kept focused on the shoulder seam of his shirt. His face remained close to hers, his hat brim casting a shadow on her face while his moist breath warmed her hot skin.
    “When did you learn to kiss like that?’ His low voice held a hint of curious amusement.
    The hand on the small of her back spread its fingers, testing the supple curve of her spine. It sent little waves of heat lightning flashing through her nerves, recharging their high sensitivity. His hard, sinewed length seemed indelibly imprinted on her flesh, male in its contours.
    “It’s been two years or more since you kissed me.” If he’d asked, Sharon could have told him the place and the time. Her voice contained no trace of her tension, even though it was a little on the husky side. “I’ve had time to practice. Surely you didn’t expect me to kiss like some innocent seventeen-year-old.”
    “I don’t know,” Ridge murmured and raised her chin, his blue eyes intent and probing in their narrowed study of her. “But I didn’t expect this.”
    This recognition of her as a woman was the very thing she had so longed to hear. Her breath caught in her throat, as she hardly dared to believe it. Even if Ridge meant nothing beyond that, there was sweet satisfaction in being acknowledged as a desirable female. However, both her feet remained firmly planted in reality. It was the first time Sharon had met him on an equal footing—man to woman. He didn’t have a starry-eyed romantic in his arms.
    All this gave her a new confidence when his mouth sought to discover the mystery of her lips again. It wasn’t necessary to disguise her enjoyment of this intimacy. Her lips parted under the deepening urgency of his kiss. A golden tide of warmth curled through her limbs while she spread her hands over the rippling muscles of his back.
    Her senses were awash with the taste, the feel, and the smell of him. His mouth rolled off her lips as he came up for air, the heat of his breath fanning her cheek. There was a labored edge to hisbreathing, and her acutely sensitive hearing picked up the slightly uneven tempo of his heartbeat.
    There was a bright glint in his eyes when Sharon finally lifted her gaze to meet his. Behind its surface amusement, the look was faintly accusing.
    “You’ve come of age,” Ridge murmured.
    “I turned twenty-one on my last birthday,” she pointed out, a fact that he had obviously overlooked, being so accustomed to regarding her as Scott’s kid sister.
    From the front porch there came a snarling growl that erupted into an angry bark. Sharon stiffened at the sound,