Seven Nights Of Sin: Seven Sensuous Stories by Bestselling Historical Romance Authors

Any minute now, she'd be sprawled on the ground and gored to death if something wasn't done. But what could she do, the branch above her head was out of reach. The beast backed up and, once again, pawed at the ground. It was going to charge again and this time, she'd probably fall to her death.

The rider stopped and watched what transpired. He didn't move. Instead, he pushed his hat back and cocked his head to the side.

Lucas McKade. Silver City's new deputy and the one man she'd been avoiding now appeared as her savior. Or not, since he sat unmoving, taking in her predicament. Finally, he untied the bandana from around his neck.

"Whoa!" he screamed, waving the cloth to get the bull's attention. The hateful animal barely paid him any mind. Instead, it focused on the tree again.

Her branch creaked and she held her breath and reached for a thin branch overhead and pulled up as hard as she could in an effort to relieve her current perch of some weight. Her hands stung but she held on.

A loud whistle sounded and, this time, the bull turned toward the cowboy. Camille held her breath hoping the damn thing would chase after the deputy and forget about her.

The animal pawed the ground and snorted. Lucas waved his arms and turned his nervous horse sideways.

Finally, the bull took a couple steps away from her tree. Then, without warning, charged the rider who spurred his horse to a gallop.

Camille waited as long as she could before attempting to inch down from her precarious position. Each movement, no matter how careful, made the branch splinter from its hold on the trunk.

With a snap, the branch gave way and, once again, she grabbed the thinner one above her head. For a few moments, she hung from her arms and closed her eyes hoping the combination of branches would hold.

But the one she sat on was already cracked and the one she held on to would not hold her weight.

She was much too high to hope for any kind of soft landing. Cursed bull and its temperament. Why didn't its owners make sure it was kept in a corral? Now, she was in danger of breaking her neck because of it.

Squeezing her eyes tight, she prepared for what followed. Her hands burned from the weight as the thin branch began its inevitable breaking.

"If I were you, I'd inch closer to the trunk. The branch is stronger there."

Camille refused to consider how silly she looked hanging from a tree while a man sat atop a horse looking up at her. Instead, she did as he said and moved closer to the tree.

"Now, find a foothold. There's a branch not too far from your right foot," he said next, not seeming in the least perturbed by the fact she could possibly die at any moment.

"I can't see it," she replied with impatience. "Help me down."

He frowned. "Feel around for it. There you go."

"I'm not here to perform for your entertainment. If you come closer I can lower to stand on your horse's rump."

The annoying man studied her for a moment. "Take a hold of the branch by your left hand and lower yourself to the one you're standing on."

There was no other choice than to follow his instructions, so she did as he said and, before long, sat on the steadier branch. She let out a breath and scowled at Lucas. "What now?"

The corner of his lips curved. The infuriating man found the situation comical. "You climbed up there, which means there's a way to climb down. Don't get mad at me because you riled a bull."

Instead of a reply, she studied the tree to figure out how to climb down without the man's help, since it was obvious he'd not help. In truth, she'd been too high to safely lower onto his horse. After several attempts, she found herself lower. Although her arms quivered from the effort, she refused to ask him for any more help.

Camille reached for another branch, her breathing now coming in pants, her arms burning, her fingernails torn.

She lost her foothold and grabbed for some sort of purchase, not ready to land in a heap on the ground in front of the deputy.

Just then, strong arms surrounded her and pulled her against him. "Relax, I have you."

Not able to do more than slump against him, too relieved to think of anything more than how safe she felt at the moment, Camille let out a shaky breath. "You would have let me fall."

The solid chest against her, coupled with his arms around her, became her shelter for the next few moments, as she was too tired and relieved to push away.

"I was here to catch you. You're safe. That's it, breathe." He soft words brought her out of the haze and Camille did as he instructed. "That's it."

Finally, she could muster the strength to straighten. "Thank you. If you'd please release me, I'll be on my way."

"I'll take you back to town. We'll stop at Doc’s. You need to get those hands looked after."

He helped her onto his horse and lifted to sit behind her. For the next half hour, she reveled in the circle of his arms as they rode to town.

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