Sam's Creed. Sarah McCarty

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СКАЧАТЬ and make nice while Sam exposed her legs. There was enough of her upbringing still healthy to make that impossible.

      “What’s going on in your head, Isabella?”

      “Is it really possible to have relations on a horse?”

      His hand stopped moving. Against her side, his chest expanded on an indrawn breath and then stopped. She had actually shocked him. She had the feeling not many people did that.

      He let the breath out on a slow, even expulsion. “Feeling adventurous?”

      Adventure implied risk. “Are having relations on a horse more difficult than relations elsewhere?”

      His eyes narrowed and his head canted to the side. “I’d feel a whole lot better about answering that question if you didn’t keep referring to things as ‘relations.’”

      “My grasp of your language is not that good. I do not know another word.”

      “I’ve picked up a bit of Spanish here and there—why don’t you run the words you do know by me?”

      And admit she did not know any words at all? She did not think so. “I do know one word in English, but I do not think it is one a lady uses in front of a gentleman.”

      His eyebrows rose. “You don’t say?”

      “Do not look so eager. It is not a word I will say.”

      He grinned. A real one. “Chicken.”

      Yes, she was. In many ways.

      She caught her lip between her teeth. This was a big step she was taking, probably one she shouldn’t be taking without a lot of thought—one that would have her forever banished from her family, ruined in society’s eyes, fallen in God’s. But Tejala’s men were close, and tomorrow might be too late. She was not foolish enough to think she could win in this game with the outlaw forever. Someday she would be outmaneuvered and her innocence would be taken from her. And she would still be banished from her family, ruined in society’s eyes, still be fallen in God’s eyes. So either way there were consequences, but one way she made the choice. The other, the choice was made for her.

      She licked her lips again. Sam’s eyes dropped to her mouth. There was a tension in his muscles that hadn’t been there before. A hardness under her buttock that hadn’t been there before. In contrast, everything in her body softened.

      This man who’d risked his life for her interested her. She did not fool herself that Sam was a gentle man. There was a razor edge to his personality, a coldness to his expression that spoke of purpose, but there were also those flashes of humor, and moments of softness. But what she noticed most about him was the lack of cruelty. He was kind to his horse, kind to his dog. Kind to her. Taking him as a lover might not be her worst choice.

      She closed her eyes, daring and apprehension rippling through her at the same time, riding the same thought. A lover. She shivered. She was considering taking a lover. And not just any lover, but the infamous Sam MacGregor.

      It seemed so much more brazen when she thought in specifics. But the alternative was losing her virginity to rape and becoming the trophy of a man she hated. That was by far more horrifying. She didn’t want the only things she knew of relations between a man and a woman to be taught to her at Tejala’s hands. She didn’t want to hand him one single victory, especially the prize of her virgin’s blood. Taking a lover accomplished many goals. Taking a lover was practical. Her mother had raised her to be very practical.

      She opened her eyes. Sam was still watching her mouth. In an experiment, she ran her tongue over her lips again. His gaze followed every movement. Taking a lover was also going to be very fun.

      “Do you find me pretty, Sam?”

      “Anyone would find you pretty.”

      He was still watching her mouth. The dying scream of her mother’s lectures on the dangers of being promiscuous echoed in her mind as she placed her hand over his on her thigh. “That was not what I asked. Do you find me pretty?”

      “You’re beautiful.”

      It was so hard to be brazen with the sun shining in her eyes, exposing her to every nuance of Sam’s expression. So hard to be confident with Sam watching her as if she were a prisoner intent on escape, his hand on her knee a vivid distraction. Her diaphragm constricted. She took a careful breath and asked, “Beautiful enough to have relations with?”

      “Why?”

      She was prepared for a simple yes, had her next line rehearsed. She was not ready for “why.” Men did not ask why. They just leapt on the opportunity. Asking why was an insult.

      “What do you mean, why?”

      Chapter 5

      Bella forgot herself and pushed at Sam’s shoulder. It was like hitting a wall in every way except for the inclination her fingers had to linger against the surface, to explore the solid ledge of muscle and bone, to move the shirt aside and know the warmth of his skin intimately. She yanked her hand back. “A man does not ask this of a woman!”

      “Seems to me to be a sensible question when a respectable woman propositions a disreputable man.”

      He was not disreputable. She knew disreputable. He was not it. The heat of his flesh dallied on her palm, teasing the nerve endings into wanting. She closed her fingers around the need. “It is a very rude question. And the fact that I am sitting as I am is the proof that I am not respectable.”

      “I notice you don’t argue my being disreputable.”

      The sun was too bright. She could not see his face, but she had a suspicion he was laughing at her. “You had best not be smiling.”

      She shaded her eyes. He was.

      “You’re real fond of giving orders, aren’t you?”

      He was very handsome when he smiled that way, one corner of his mouth a touch higher than the other, his blue eyes darkened with the emotion he usually kept contained. His hand squeezed her knee, reminding her how intimately placed his fingers were. She should have been shocked. Instead, she was taken with a strange breathlessness. “I have not thought about it.”

      That was a lie. She tended to be too focused on what she wanted and grew impatient with politeness. Sometimes it was just easier to direct the person. “And you have not answered my question.”

      His smile deepened at her pushing. “No. I haven’t.”

      His control annoyed her. And excited her. A strange combination. “The question is simple and only requires a yes or no answer.”

      Not a muscle on his face moved, but she had the impression he was delving deep into her mind, seeing beneath her skin to motives she didn’t want him to notice. Fear. Desperation. Desire. Finally he spoke.

      “I think we’ve already established that I’m the contrary type.”

      It was her turn to frown. Contrary was not good for what she had in mind. “This is not a recommendation for a lover.”

      Sam’s СКАЧАТЬ