The Last Warrior by Kristen Kyle

Author:Kristen Kyle [Kyle, Kristen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-79880-0
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2011-07-19T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Wind that tossed the pines subsides in the grass of the foothill plain, rain races the clouds of the rising storm.

—KYOGOKU TAMEKANE (1254–1332)

MEG WATCHED THE descent of his hard, sensual mouth, gazed into the dark, passionate intensity of his glittering eyes … and lost her nerve.

Oddly enough, she trusted Jake. It was her own mercurial changes of mood that defied reason. She no longer knew what she wanted, except for one thing: She craved Jake’s kiss with an irrational eagerness, ready to sacrifice her self-respect, her identity, her soul.

“We’d better go,” Meg squeaked nervously, pulling back.

Jake released her, but not before she saw the alluring fire die in his eyes. Without a word, he helped her climb down from the tree. She felt as if she’d just taken a fragile, irreplaceable moment of trust, and destroyed it.

After retrieving Meg’s gun, they made their way back to the horses.

“Oh, no!” Meg cried as they neared the fallen log. She rushed forward to touch the raw end of a broken limb, the only evidence remaining of where her skittish mare had been tied.

“The crash of the redwood must have panicked her. Don’t worry, she’ll head straight home,” Jake said, coming up from behind. The gelding nickered a greeting, sounding relieved that it hadn’t been completely deserted. Jake tucked the revolver into one of the saddlebags.

“I know, but how am I going to get home?” Meg asked.

“Well, you could walk.” Jake rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, his face impassive. “Or you could double up with me.”

Ride double? That close to him, for over an hour? Her mouth went dry. “On that horse, with you?” she rasped.

“That’s the general idea.”

Meg lifted her chin. “I have a better idea. You let me take the gelding, and you walk back to Rincon Hill.”

“And deprive myself of your company?”

Quicksilver eyes darkened to a smoky gray as he came closer. Meg’s heart leapt as his fingertips gently traced over her right cheekbone and down her jaw.

“I’d rather hold you in my arms all the way back to town,” Jake murmured, his voice dropping to a low, husky tone that rippled across her skin and left goose-bumps in its wake. “I can’t stop thinking about how sweet you taste, Meg. Your lips fit perfectly against mine.”

Thrilling, frightening sensations washed through her body. “Back … back at the mansion … you took liberties you shouldn’t have.”

“I don’t deny it. And perhaps I should be wallowing in self-condemnation, except for one overriding fact—” His fingers came to rest beneath her chin. His thumb brushed lightly back and forth in the hollow beneath her lower lip. “You responded to me, Meghan, if just for a moment.”

The pressure of his fingers urged her head to tilt, giving access to her open mouth. His lips sought hers with unnerving accuracy. Muscular arms came about her in a fierce embrace, one encircling her back, the other capturing her head in the cradle of his hand.

Meg’s traitorous body curved into his with the languid ease of a sunning cat, ignoring the remote corner of her brain that warned of danger.

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