Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 108382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
"Your feet aren't too big."
She definitely hated him!
He finished tying her ankle to his with the black silk tie he pulled from his pocket. If she attempted flight during the night, a tug would now warn him. Then he stretched out beside her.
"Stiff in bed, too?" he asked, another laugh accenting his words.
"You have no manners." Her words were stern, like a staunch schoolteacher.
They irritated Zac. He turned, bending his elbow and bracing his head on his hand. His other hand captured her chin and roughly turned her face to meet his. "We both know I’m far from a gentleman. Would you like me to prove it?"
Her answer was a quick and decisive "No!"
"Then go to sleep and don't open your mouth again."
Prudence's lips moved to speak.
"I warn you. Try it and you’ll be sorry, or perhaps you won't be," he said, a carnal grin spreading across his face.
Prudence shut her mouth and pulled her face free.
Zac lay back down, punching his pillow several times in annoyance before he did. Let her lie there and stare at the ceiling all night. He was going to get some sleep. He was tired. Damn tired. He wanted to sleep. Sleep was what he needed. He'd close his eyes and ignore her and sleep. Yes sir, sleep.
Her breathing was soft and steady, her chest rising and falling in soothing rhythm with every beat. Zac should know; he'd been watching her for the last two hours. He couldn't sleep. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't slip into that blissful nocturnal slumber. Prudence, on the other hand, had not found it elusive. She had dozed off almost as soon as her eyes had closed. He had become more agitated as the minutes slowly ticked by. At first he thought he was overtired, had gone too long without sleep and his body was protesting. But as he thought more on it, he realized it was Prudence who was keeping him awake.
Actually, it was his thoughts of Prudence that kept him wide-eyed. As soon as she had mentioned that he had no business seeing her feet, his eyes had focused on the area that was intended solely for a husband's viewing.
The dark stockings hid much from him, but her feet's narrow width and perfectly proportioned toes caught his attention. They were far from too big. In fact, they were just the right size for her full frame. And it was that full frame that kept his mind active with thoughts that were far from gentlemanly.
Zac rested his arms beneath his head and grinned. She'd probably faint if he touched her breast, a quick touch, soft and promising against her nipples, just enough to harden those brown orbs to gems that would taste deliciously sinful upon his tongue.
"Damn," he muttered, snapping his head sharply to the right to see if she had heard him. She was sound asleep. He shifted his buttocks in the bed, the tightness in his pants annoying, especially since he had brought it upon himself. He had no business thinking of her in such a sexual way. She was proper and played by the rules. He, on the other hand, had never played by the rules. He had learned at a young age it didn't pay and was dangerous.
Just as it would be dangerous at this moment to reach over and touch her. He could satisfy—or more likely intensify—his curiosity while she slept. But she wasn't a saloon hall floozy. She was a young lady from Boston. Someday she would make a proper wife. She would submit to her husband at his will and probably suffer his inadequate fumbling until the sexual act was complete. She would experience no pleasure, at least not the type of pleasure he could give her.
The type where she would call out his name in sweet agony and cling to him in desperate want of more, and she would want more. He could feel it. Her sensuous, ample body was designed for passion— a raging fiery passion—not the simple grunt and groan and ahh type.
"Damn!" he repeated again as he adjusted the bulge in his pants as best he could, reminding him that he couldn't get involved with Miss Winthrop.
They didn't travel in the same "social circles." Marriage to her would mean a house in Boston, not a cabin in the wilderness of the Dakota Territory. Her husband would meet suitable standards. Ones he couldn't even come close to. He wasn't her type, and she wasn't his. They were the perfect mismatch.
He would deposit her with her father and leave. He warned himself over and over that that was what he would do, and nothing—absolutely nothing—would stop him.
Zac's closed eyelids couldn't keep out the morning sun as it filtered into the room through the lace curtains. He moaned, knowing he had probably slept later than he'd intended. He kept his eyes shut, stretching his arms above his head, and then extending the exhilarating movement throughout his body until it reached his legs. That's when he felt the tug. He was no longer tied to Prudence's ankle.