Iris Johansen - Dark Rider

When she had made the accusation, she had been seeking to put up barriers between them and had not wanted him to answer with such simple honesty. First gratitude, and then the bond of shared danger, and now she was beginning to understand him. Dangerous. She searched desperately for a way to distance herself. She said tartly, "Well, it's certainly not your lower parts that condemn their difference."

The gravity vanished from his face as he threw back his head and laughed. "No, by God, that part of me is totally mindless. I accept everything with no prejudice whatever." He met her gaze. "As you will learn to do."

She felt a tightness in her chest and that curious sensation of breathlessness. She said unevenly, "But you'll not be the one to teach me. You don't really want me. You only want to punish my father."

"The hell I don't want you. Deville has nothing to do with this."

She was shaken by the violence in his voice. "Of course he does. Otherwise it makes no sense."

"Carnal pleasures seldom do. Passion can strike out of nowhere. You should know that since you must have seen it every day on your island."

She had seen it, but it had always happened to Lihua and the others, not to her. She shook her head in disbelief. "It's not true. I'm not beautiful like Lihua or Lani. I'm not the kind of woman for whom a man conceives such a passion."

"Shall I convince you?" He leaned forward, his eyes blazing recklessly in the dimness. "I lied, you know. You're right, you look like a scrap of flotsam. You're dirty and tired. You have straw clinging to your hair and body and salt coating you from head to toe. You should have no appeal at all for me. Do you know what I'd like to do to you right now?"

She moistened her lips. "No."

"I want to take off that chemise and lick the salt from your breasts." His eyes fastened on the damp cotton veiling the swell of her breasts. "I want to taste you. I want to pull at your nipples with my teeth. I want to make a feast of you." His gaze never left her body. "And I think you want me to do that, too."

Blood was pounding through her veins. She felt on fire, her skin tingling. "No," she whispered.

"Look down at yourself."

She didn't have to look down, she could feel her breasts swelling beneath his eyes, her nipples hardening and pushing against the soft cotton barrier. "It doesn't mean anything. It's just… I'm startled."

"You're ready," he corrected softly. "Beautifully ready."

"I couldn't be." She swallowed to ease the tightness of her throat. "Not with you."

"Because you regard me as your enemy? It doesn't make any difference. Not in this."

"Of course it makes a difference," she said fiercely. "I'm not an animal. I have control of my body. I wouldn't let myself-" She broke off and then said, "Go away. I don't want you here."

"Unfortunate." He leaned back against the wall. "But I'm not leaving until I'm sure the stallion is settled. After all, nothing has changed. I told you I have no intention of ravishing you tonight. You've had a bad time, and I find myself deplorably brimming with the milk of human kindness. Most unusual."

He was wrong. Something had changed. Her body had betrayed her, was still betraying her. She felt weak and vulnerable and needed time to rebuild her defenses. "I don't need you. Go away."

He didn't move.

She closed her eyes, but she could still feel him staring at her.

"But I'm not so filled with sympathy that I won't give you something to think about." His voice was soft and sensuous. "One of the times I'm going to take you will be in a stable. You'll be naked and feel the faint abrasiveness of the straw against your breasts and belly as I move inside you. Have you ever seen a stallion mount a mare?"

She didn't answer.

"Of course you have. You're planning on having a horse farm of your own. Did the mating excite you? The drive, the hard thrust, the joining…"

She felt a tingling between her legs as she remembered the sight of that mating. Don't think of it . She was not an animal, a mare for the mounting.

The hay smelled clean, and she was aware of it prickling her skin through the thin cotton. She was acutely aware of him only a few yards away: man… stallion.

"Did the mare scream when he entered her?"

"Yes," she said hoarsely.

"But she wanted it, didn't she? She backed toward him?"

"Of course she did. She was in season."

"Like you. You're in season, aren't you?"

"No…" Her lids flicked open to see his eyes fixed on her with glittering force. The air seemed heavy and hard to breathe. "I told you that I'm not an animal."

"We're all animals in that final moment. I guarantee you won't care whether I'm an enemy or friend when I'm inside you."

His tone was so confident, it frightened her as much as the image his words brought to mind. Jared inside her, riding her as he had ridden Kapu, those hard, muscular thighs holding her still while he… "Go away," she whispered.

He shook his head.

"Then don't talk to me. I don't want to hear this."

"I think I've said enough."

He had said too much, and she must not think about any of it or its effect on her.

You're in season, aren't you?

She had denied it, but perhaps that was the reason her response had been so powerful and beyond her control. Before she had even seen him, she had been aware of the growing sensuality of her body. Yes, that was it, she grasped at the explanation eagerly. He wasn't the cause. He could have been any man. It was just her time for mating. He was more sensual than any man she had ever encountered, and surely it was natural that she had responded. But response did not mean surrender. "Stay or go." She carefully kept her tone indifferent. "I don't care. I shall only ignore you."

He smiled. "Will you?"

She looked away from him and fastened her gaze on Kapu. Damn him. So confident, so comely. Even when she didn't look at him, she could feel him there. She could remember the line of his thigh outlined in the closely fitting trousers, the careless grace, his mouth…

I want to lick the salt from your breasts.

No, not again. She would not feel like this. He was not the cause. She desperately reiterated the thought over and over like a chant to ward off demons. It was only her time for mating.

It was not him.

"Is she still down there?" Jared turned, squinting against the brilliance of the morning sun to see Bradford strolling down the deck toward him. His uncle was shaved, exquisitely garbed in beige buckskin trousers and coat by Worth, and amazingly bright-eyed. "What are you doing up so early? I haven't seen you out of your bed before noon this entire journey."

"You exaggerate. I usually let you drag me from slumber on the more interesting occasions."

"But seldom voluntarily."

"True. But, then, we're all spurred to greater effort when something appears on the horizon that intrigues us."

Jared stiffened. "And may I ask what intrigues you?"

Bradford chuckled. "My, how ferocious you sound. What treasure are you protecting from my lustful avarice? The girl or the horse?"

Jared cursed the reaction, which had been purely instinctive. He forced a smile. "The horse, of course. I know where your passion lies."

"Do you? How sad that I'm so transparent," Bradford said. "You didn't answer me. Is the girl still down in the cargo hold communing with our equine friend?"

"Presumably." He glanced away, and his pace quickened as they approached the door to the hold. "Providing the stallion hasn't trampled her."

"Oh, I don't think he'll do that. Even when he was almost mindless with terror, he let her come close." His brow wrinkled in thought. "She gives me hope."