A Kiss to Remember: Western Historical Romance Boxed Set

His breath left him in a rush. "Jesus," he muttered. He stopped breathing, held perfectly still, but Allie couldn't keep from moving. She lifted herself, her fists braced on either side of his head.

Gone was the teasing laughter, to be replaced with a hunger so deep there was no way to conceal it. Brandon figured the want in her expression didn't mirror his own by half. She closed her eyes, and Brandon reached up to trace her jaw with his bandaged right hand. The backs of his knuckles skimmed across her jaw line, and she opened her eyes again at his touch.

His left hand came up to her breasts, and he cupped first one, then the other, the smooth richness mesmerizing him. Paradise swung over him as she leaned up to kiss him, boldly slipping her tongue past his lips and teeth to mate with his. He groaned deep in his throat, thrusting up into her.

She breathed into him, moving against him, and then lifted her mouth, catching her lower lip in her teeth.

He grinned. "You said we were 'right' together."

"You say otherwise?" She moved again, stealing his breath.

"No," he whispered. "We are, Allie. Better than 'right'. Perfect together."

She raised herself up again, very slowly. His breath hissed inward. He lifted his hips and she slid down.

"I just wish we had all those years in between." As soon as he said it, he was sorry. A flash of regret passed across Allie's features in the shadowy darkness.

"You weren't ready then," she murmured, "and neither was I."

He knew it was true, and he loved her for her sweet insight more in that moment than he ever had before. He might not have been ready then, but now… He pulled her to him, craving her as he never had before. He wanted her flesh in his hands, her breath in his lungs, her heart pounding against his own. He surged into her, as she accepted him. All of him. Everything that he was.

"I'm ready now, Allie," he murmured, sure she could hear the raw note of his commitment to her. He must sound like a schoolboy, with the rough, hoarse way his words came out. God, he was on the edge, ready to go over.

I'm ready now, he'd said. A double entendre if he ever heard one.

Allie slanted him a teasing grin. "I think you are, too."

Her voice sounded far away as he surged upward again. Blood roared through his veins. Above it, he heard her say his name in a breathless whisper, then cry out as her body shuddered atop his. She lay draped over him in boneless surrender, and he absorbed the love flowing between them.

Sleep's languor began to steal over him, his meager activities of the day catching up with him, finally. His hand glided over Allie's back and speared into her hair, fingering the long soft length. She snuggled close, turning her face into his neck.

"I love you," she whispered.

Although he loved to hear her say it, there would never be a need for her to voice it again. Forever. Sleep hovered at the edge of his mind. His thoughts cleared, but for that one lovely word. It was meant to be–something good. Allie. Forever.

****

Through the hazy fog of sleep, Brandon became aware of a feeling that meant one thing: danger. Something wasn't right. He came awake suddenly, with none of the lingering relaxation left from their hot lovemaking. Allie's arm lay across him, her head pillowed on his shoulder. Her long hair tumbled across his chest and the sheet, like a curtain of dark silk.

Her arm tightened around him as she felt his wakefulness, as though she meant to keep him safe, or at least keep him from the fitful dreams that had haunted his fever-ridden sleep the night before.

Brandon lay still, listening. The window was open, but the warm breath of the faint night breeze was no comfort. It was almost non-existent. The night was sluggish too it seemed, along with the breeze. And there was a faraway sound that wasn't enough to have awakened him of itself. It was the oddity of it, at this time of night.

The boys had left the barn door open to receive some of the air movement, little as it was. The noise of the horses moving restively in their stalls, along with the low, anxious sounds they made, were enough to pull Brandon fully awake. He carefully lifted Allie's arm and laid it on the bed, then slipped away from her, moving her head to the pillow.

"Brandon?" Her voice was sleepy and he leaned to kiss her forehead, and then reached for his pants. "Whatsamatter?"

He smiled in the darkness. "I'm not sure. I just want to check on things. I'll be back."

"Take the Henry."

He chuckled. "I will." He drew on a shirt, then walked to the corner to retrieve the rifle. When he picked it up, he lifted the curtains to look outside, toward the barn.

His heart took a wild leap. Orange flames licked at the west wall of the building, lighting up the blackness of the night.

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