From nowhere, she raised both hands high in the air, balancing only with her legs on the horse. Horrified, Craig closed the last bit of distance between them, grappled an iron hand around her ribs and snatched her free before she could fall. Belle’s reins floated off as the mare continued the race into the distance, her load that much lighter.
He fought to slow his horse and at the same time kept a tight grip, very tight grip, on his wife. Black Lightning ground to a stop, his lungs heaving. Craig dropped the reins and pulled Sonia up from her precarious, and undoubtedly uncomfortable, position upside down across his thighs.
Wanting to shout at her for her damn-fool stunt, somehow he didn’t. He tugged her close instead, wrapping his arms around her, winding her legs around his. For the first time in hours, he took a deep, relaxed breath. She was as dirty as a kid let loose in a sand pit. She still smelled like Sonia, whatever soap she used, whatever shampoo she used, whatever perfume she used. Whatever the hell was underneath all of that made such a difference.
For several minutes, he just held her, until he could work up a little rage again. That wasn’t easy, when all he wanted was to love her and love her and love her…Finally, he reached up to tug at her hair. “Would you care to tell me what the hell you thought you were doing?”
He meant to sound furious; somehow his voice only sounded gravelly with emotion. He also meant for that little tug to punish just a little, but instead, his fingers ended up caressing her hair, smoothing it gently back from her temples. Her face lifted to his. He hadn’t expected to see the dance of laughter on her lips. There were tears streaking down her cheeks; in the darkness they looked like jewels.
He kissed away one tear and then another.
“Craig, I was so afraid you weren’t-”
He kissed her trembling mouth, then. “You don’t get rid of a damn fool that easily, little one.”
“You weren’t a fool. I never thought that…” Joy was pulsing through her, and relief. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She seemed to be doing both. “I’m just so glad…”
He lifted her down, then swung off the horse himself. She walked into his arms, sliding her hands around his waist, crisscrossing them around his back as if she could impress the brand of him on her own skin. They were both hot, damp-hot, horse-hot, emotion-hot…and the suddenness of night falling brought a chill that only the touch of him dispelled.
“Sonia, I’m sorry. I never, never meant to hurt you…” His lips pressed into her hair. “Come here, you,” he growled suddenly.
“I’m right here.”
“Not close enough.” His palms framed her face and forced her chin up. He claimed her mouth, hard, rough, insistent. By the time his lips lifted from hers, she felt a calm settling through her like riches. More than that his arms swept around her, warm and tender, in a hug so heartfelt and precious that she knew he really was home again. “Now, are you going to tell me why the hell you pulled that damn-fool stunt?” he murmured in her ear.
“So you could play hero. So you could swoop down out of the Western sky and play the cowboy claiming his woman.” She shifted in his arms, drawing her wrists up around his neck. There was a swift flash of disbelief and even anger in his eyes, but she pressed her finger to his lips before he could say anything. She hadn’t been playing games. Her laughter died as well as her tears; vibrant emotions played on her face. “Would you listen for a minute?” she whispered.
“I’m listening.”
“You were there. I knew you were there to catch me. And maybe it was a little foolish,” she admitted softly, “but I had to tell you-I had to show you…” She took a breath, trying to make the words somehow fit right. “Men have such strange ideas about heroes,” she said quietly. “Heroes aren’t pirates, and you can’t identify them by shining armor, and they never really slay dragons.”
When he tried to speak again, she pressed her finger firmly on his mouth.
“Being a man has nothing to do with using your fists or playing macho scenes,” she said firmly. “A real hero builds his life with strength and courage. He hurts, because he feels things so deeply. He’s vulnerable, and there’s a quality that men never have the sense to be proud of. And most of all,” she added, “a hero is there for his lady when she needs him. You were there, and I knew you would be. Now, if I have to spell out any further exactly what you are to me-”
“Sonia…” He was silent for a minute, and then his thumb brushed another tear from beneath her eye. Just one this time. “But if you ever pull a trick like that again, I swear I’ll…”
“I understand that,” she said gravely, but the soft shine of humor suddenly erased any last hint of tears.
“I’m not joking.”
“I know you’re not.” And she wasn’t smiling. “You want to protect me, Craig? Then do it. I need that from you. I need to feel free to be vulnerable with you, to show you my weaker side, to feel free just to take the risks we need to take day by day to grow together. That’s the kind of protection I need from you as a man, as my man, and I need it badly. It isn’t a showy kind of thing. It’s not as flamboyantly male as punching out some dude who looks at me sideways, or preventing me from falling off my horse.”
“Dammit, I love you. Now, would you kindly shut up?” He tugged her close. “You can quit lecturing now,” he growled in her ear, but his tone was loving.
“You’re sure you’ve got it?”
“You talk more than any woman I’ve ever met in my entire life.” The last image of the long-faced man with pale eyes dissolved in front of his eyes. Maybe that incident was always going to be more important to him than it was to her, but he now saw what an obsession he’d made of it. The woman in front of him filled his vision, a saucy shine to her eyes, a warmth and love radiating from her that cried out for him to swoop down for yet another kiss.
His lips found hers, coming home. She was trembling unaccountably. Sonia’s front was partially bravado, the saucy shine in her eyes only half real. The longer his arms stayed around her, the longer his mouth stayed on hers, the closer he rubbed his body to hers, the more her trembling intensified.
Sonia was vulnerable. His male instinct to protect her was never going to die. He’d just had a few things mixed up. She wanted his love to protect her.
She had it. For a lifetime.
About the Author
Jennifer sold her first book in 1980, and since then she has sold more than eighty books in the contemporary romance genre. Her first professional writing award came from RWA-a Silver Medallion in 1984-followed by more than twenty nominations and awards, including being honored in RWA’s Hall of Fame and presented with the RWA Nora Roberts Lifetime Achievement Award. Jennifer has been on numerous bestseller lists, has written for Harlequin Books, Avon, Berkley and Dell, and has sold over the world in more than twenty languages. She has written under a number of pseudonyms, most recognizably Jennifer Greene, but also Jeanne Grant and Jessica Massey.
She was born in Michigan, started writing in high school, and graduated from Michigan State University with a degree in English and psychology. The university honored her with their “Lantern Night Award,” a tradition developed to honor fifty outstanding women graduates each year. Exploring issues and concerns for women today is what first motivated her to write, and she has long been an enthusiastic and active supporter of women’s fiction, which she believes is an “unbeatable way to reach out and support other women.” Jennifer lives in the country around Benton Harbor, Michigan, with her husband, Lar.