western-romance

Every woman wants a cowboy.

It's the easiest thing in the world to get to California-you just aim yourself west and start walking.

There are two types of people: those that are going somewhere and those that ain't.

So, you take no prisoners, huh?__lynn leaned in close. Her pulse clicked up a gear at the deliberate invasion of her personal space. __o, sweetie. We take prisoners, of the short, female variety. We just don__ fight fair when we catch __m.

Wishing for something doesn__ mean you should have it, and saying something doesn__ necessarily make it true.

Another man__ property or not, Creed could not walk away from this and ignore it. He draped an arm around her and drew her to him so that her cheek rested against his thigh. His other hand stroked the top of her head, his fingers tangling through her soft hair. He was large in comparison to her, and he did not wish for her to be frightened by him again, so he sent a faint tendril of compulsion to belay her fear while he whispered a few nonsensical words of comfort.

Her demon had pursued and seduced him. She hoped he hadn__ placed too much importance on that.

Hunter and hunted. There are so many ways in which a man can destroy a woman._ Her handmaid sighed. __hen it comes to matters of the heart, immortals know nothing.

She looked up at him with dark, tragic eyes, and again he was struck by the illusion of beauty and innocence she presented. Instinct had him wanting to reach for her, to take her in his arms and offer comfort. Then his ribs twitched with pain and he remembered she was not all that innocent, no matter what her mother believed about her or how she presented herself. He called to mind an image of his sister and her torn remains, and of the monstrosity she had died giving birth to, and any pity he might have felt for Airie fled.

The scent of freshly laundered clothing that had been dried in the desert sun lingered around him. She breathed deeply, remembering how kind he had been to her that day, and she closed her eyes. The tip of his tongue brushed her mouth, and her lips parted slightly. She tilted her head back, relaxing against the strength of his arm as he cradled her. His other hand found her hip. Kisses, not so light now, trailed along her jaw before dipping lower. She sighed, the roughness of his unshaven cheek teasing the delicate skin of her throat, sparking a sense of restlessness in her that she did not know how to resolve. She wanted to touch him too, to kiss him in return, but she also wanted to stay just as she was because she liked what he did to her.

She pressed his amulet to her lips, then let it fall on its chain to rest between their two bodies. __e could leave here,_ she said to him. __e could run away together.__e frowned at the stars, the bubble of peacefulness that had settled around them after their lovemaking now ruptured. __ run from nothing and no one.

Creed must have responded in kind, because with a gasp, she broke off the kiss. Time crawled to a standstill, then shifted to a sprint. Nieve shoved the gun lodged between them into his ribs. His hand still covered hers, and with the well-trained instincts of an assassin, he jerked the gun to the side so that the bullet she fired embedded into the ground, kicking up dirt, and not in his heart.

When a man that attractive licks his lips, a girl's got to look. And imagine...

Success is most often a matter of competing with yourself for what is important to you as an individual.

They rode up a trail until the trees parted and they got their first good view of Lone Peak across the valley and river. This late morning it was breathtaking. The stark peak gleamed against the deep blue of the big sky. No wonder this area had been named Big Sky.

As she reached the stairs, she made a quick detour and stepped outside. A crescent moon hung in the midnight blue sky along with trillions of twinkling stars. Out here there were no streetlights to wash out the view. She loved being able to see the stars. Tonight, the mountains were etched deep purple against the night sky. The white snowcapped tips gleamed silver. Nearer, silhouetted pine trees swayed in the breeze as if in a slow dance. __ou are such a romantic,_ Trask had once told her. __re you sure you want to open a bar? You should be writing poetry._ She__ laughed. __ow do you know I don__?

Take your clothes off." "What?" "You heard me." Evelyn forced her mouth shut. She looked around the room, buying time. The faded brown curtains hung limply over the windows, not quite touching, and the afternoon light filtered through the gaps, its beams turning the dust in the air into diamonds. She could hear the rattle of a wagon on the street below and the regular rhythm of squeaking bedsprings in the adjacent room. "So? What are you waiting for?" She stared at the man on the moth eaten chaise longue in front of her. He was serious.

Every touch ramped her desire higher and the carnal look in Chad's eyes was making swallowing difficult.By the time the waiter served their coffee, she was ready to throw him down on the table and ravish him in front of God and everybody.