Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Tarr pointed to a stream not far off. They led the horses there to drink and rest while they did the same.
They sat not far from the water’s edge, Fiona stretching her legs out in front of her and tilting her face to the sun.
“I am glad autumn allowed a touch of summer to visit for the day.”
“Enjoy it now, for winter will soon approach and there will be few days spent outside.” The prospect of being inside this winter appealed to him. He would have a bride to keep him warm and busy, and the thought stirred his senses.
“You think I will spend the winter here?” She sounded as though she laughed.
“I know you will.” He sounded pleased.
“I am curious,” she said, her tone now one of interest. “You think to make a wife of me or my sister, and shortly, as you have often reminded me. Yet you have done nothing but spend a few hours each day with us. What will be the deciding factor for who you wed?”
He favored her direct manner. Their would be no pretense between them; she would have her say whether he liked it or not, and that pleased him. He had no time for a woman who would whine and complain and never say what she meant.
“I am not sure,” he said. “You both seem identical, but then I could be speaking with the same twin over and over. I sometimes think to grab one of you, wed, and have done with it.”
“Yet you do not. Why?”
“My stubborn pride?”
Fiona laughed. “That can get in the way.”
Her eyes sparkled along with her laughter before a lopsided smile settled on her face. He had never noticed it before, and he realized the funny grin made her all the more beautiful.
He had appreciated her beauty at first glance but of late, he had begun to notice other things about her that appealed to him. She tilted her head when she laughed, her eyes rounded when she grew upset, she licked her lips slowly when deep in thought, and now this funny grin.
“So then you have no plan where my sister and I are concerned?”
“You should use tact when questioning your adversary.”
“You are not my foe?” she asked.
Had he upset her? Her eyes rounded slightly.
“If not foe what am I to you?”
She leaned forward as if she would spit the words from her mouth, then grew still. She shook her head so briefly. “I do not know.”
The wind rustled a cool breeze across the stream, whipping Fiona’s hair in her face. Before she could brush it aside, Tarr reached out and gently ran his fingers into the strands, raking them back until his hand cupped the back of her head.
“Let us see if we can find out,” he said, and leaned over her, his broad chest pressing her to the ground as his lips claimed hers in a hungry kiss.
She did not shy away or deny him. She eagerly joined him, sharing in the kiss and demanding as much as she gave, which fueled his already ignited passion. Her taste was not sweet; it was tart and pungent and intoxicating.
He loved her odd flavor and could not get enough of it. Her lips were firm and succulent, not soft mush like most of the women he had known.
Damn, but he favored the taste of her and the feel of her. She arched her body against his, her breasts pressing firm to his chest, and she wrapped one leg around his, hugging it tightly. She had locked onto him as if she had no intentions of letting go and the thought sent him reeling.
She wanted him.
He eased his lips from hers to trace down along her cheek to her neck, then nuzzled kisses along her silky flesh. She tilted her chin up, providing him easier access, and her strong moans let him know how very much she was enjoying his attention.
Her breathing grew rapid and her body moved beneath him as if she had an itch that needed immediate scratching. Her hands hugged his arms with a strength that surprised him, but when his lips drifted to her breast she suddenly ceased all movement.
He looked up to see a heated glare fixed on him.
“Touch nowhere that rightfully belongs to my future husband.”
He grinned.
“My husband will be of my choice.”
Now she could read his mind. He was about to remind her that she would wed him, and damned if he did not want the wedding to take place today. This vibrant, eager woman beneath him had to be Fiona.
He pushed himself off her and walked over to the water’s edge. He leaned down and splashed water in his face several times. He was crazy for allowing this farce to continue, and yet somehow he did not want to stop it. He felt he was unraveling Fiona, discovering who she was bit by bit and enjoying it. By the time he turned around, Fiona was standing near her horse.