Page 50 of Texas Destiny
He brought her hand to his lips and placed a kiss in the heart of her palm. “It’s not mine to give you.”
“Will Dallas give me what I need?”
“And more. He’ll give you the very best. Sporting women don’t even charge him for the pleasure of his company.”
“Do they charge you?”
“Double.” He nibbled on her lips. “Remember that. You’ll be getting the best when you marry Dallas. No need to settle for less before then.”
He shifted his body and wrapped the duster around her. Then he reached for the blanket, draped it over her, and tucked her in close beside him. “Go to sleep now.”
But she couldn’t sleep. Unfulfilled desires ravaged her body. She watched the firelight play across his features, golden shadows, amber hues. His body held a tenseness that rivaled hers. How did he expect her to sleep when her toes were still curled, her skin tingled from his touch, and her breast ached for the feel of his palm? “It would have been better if Dallas had come for me.”
“Yep.”
She turned into him. “Rub my back like you did when I was sick.”
He splayed his fingers over her back and began the lonely sojourn.
“What I feel when you kiss me—”
“It’s lust, just lust,” he interjected.
“That’s why you said any woman would do.”
“Yep.”
She snuggled against him and concentrated on the motion of his hand, the small circles, the occasional sweeps. She imagined she was lying within Dallas’s arms, wanting his warmth, his touch, and his even breathing surrounding her.
But when she drifted off to sleep, she dreamed of Houston.
Amelia awoke to the sound of thunder and groaned. “Not another storm.”
“Not a storm, a stampede,” Houston said, an urgency to his voice as he rolled away from her. “Get up.”
She rose to her feet, the full moon playing hide-and-seek with the shadows. He grabbed her hand and tugged her toward a tree. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Need to get you off the ground. Grab that branch,” he ordered as he swung her off the ground.
She did as he instructed and scrambled into the tree. “Aren’t you coming?” she yelled as the thunder grew louder.
She didn’t know if he heard her as he raced to the mules and freed them from their hobbles. Then he released his horse and started running back toward the tree.
Terror swept through her heart as the tree began to shake and the air reverberated around her. “Hurry!”
He lunged toward the tree, grabbed a branch, and swung to safety just as the herd reached the outskirts of their small camp.
Amelia tightened her hold on the tree limb as the horses rushed under her. The moon sheathed their backs in pale light, outlining their muscles as they bunched and stretched with their movements. Their manes whipped through the breeze. Their galloping hooves pounded the earth and stamped out the campfire. Their frantic neighs filled the night.
Amelia watched, mesmerized by their beauty, their singular purpose. The last horse shone the brightest, the color of the moon. It came to a staggering stop, raised on its hindquarters, threw its head back, and neighed defiantly before continuing on, following the herd.
When the thundering hooves fell into an eerie silence, Houston slid down the tree. He held up a hand and waited, as though testing the night. Amelia could sense the tenseness in his stance. Slowly, he reached for her. “Come on.”
She eased down, and he wrapped his hands around her waist. She could feel the trembling in his fingers, feel her own body shaking. She collapsed against him and listened to the pounding of his heart.
“That was incredible,” she said on an escaping breath.
“Yeah, it was,” he said quietly as he led her back to the remains of their campfire.
