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when his lips pressed to hers. She closed her eyes in
anticipation.
"You best be headin' back to the wagon. It'll be time
to douse the light in a bit. We leave out at day bust."
Bri's eyes opened, and she blinked at the sound of
his voice. He hadn't kissed her. The disappointment landed
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like lead in her stomach. Bri hoped she hadn't let on what
she had expected. She didn't need mortification added to
the long list of emotions plaguing her right now. With a
small smile she definitely didn't feel, she nodded and took a
step away from him. Brody started to move with her, but
she held out her hand and shook her head.
"No. there's no call to escort me. You see to your
business with your men. Good night." With that, she turned
and walked to the wagon, her heart still low in her chest
from memories and the longing to feel Brody's lips on hers.
At least, a voice in her head whispered and lightened her
heart a notch, she'd been gifted with the feel of his warm
body against hers when he'd held her while she cried.
Thinking back on it now, the deed surprised her.
Most men would take their leave of a woman in hysterics,
but Brody didn't hesitate to comfort her. The thought both
thrilled and saddened her. He was a man like no other, and
a man she could not have.
Bri reached the wagon and climbed inside. She had
a throbbing ache low in her belly, something that had
begun the moment she wanted Brody to kiss her. The
sensation was relentless, and she wished it away.
Settling onto her pallet, she knew even trying to
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sleep to be useless. Her body could not sleep during the
night, and it was hours until daybreak.
* * * *
Brody watched Bri return to the wagon, his eyes
settling on the curves outlined in the men's breeches she
wore. His body still felt her close, as if she'd never left his
arms. She fit him like a well worn glove; reaching his
shoulder, just the right height to lay her head.
When he'd stood in front of her, the urge to lean
down and kiss those beautiful, trembling lips had been so
strong he'd had to clamp his jaw shut. To break the spell,
he'd brushed away her tears instead. If he hadn't known
better, he would say she'd waited for a kiss. She had closed
her eyes, and seemed to have leaned forward. He'd
hankered to do just that, but had held himself back.
Now, his groin ached, and he knew there would be
no release. He was on the trail and not about to go about
buttering his corn while his men slept close-by.
Brody groaned, slid his hands to the front of his
pants, and shifted himself. Bri's life was at sixes and
sevens, the pain of her brother's deeds written all over her
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face, and he was not going to put another iron in the fire.
She needed comfort, but he wasn't the right man for the job.
She needed to be with one of those society nobs, he told
himself.
Bri had said she traveled the world with her father
and brother. He'd taken the words she chose when she
spoke to be proof she'd come for a sound on the goose. No
long, dusty trail rides, and no chores of running a ranch
house had been her lot. Those things were his life, and all
he had to give, he thought grimly.
After running his hands through his hair, Brody
returned to the fire knowing he needed to get some shut-
eye. The sun rose early, and tonight would be another night
with little to no sleep.
* * * *
Bri heard the men moving about the camp. She sat
up in her makeshift bed, not having gotten an ounce of
sleep. Normally she would have been out prowling in the
night, watching the creatures come alive and wander
through the darkness -- much like her; but she hadn't gotten
the chance.
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Last night she slipped out of the wagon, intent on
getting the blood her body still needed from one of the
beasts sleeping a ways from camp. As soon as she climbed
down from the wagon, she'd run into Brody, then had to
think of a reason as to why she'd been up and about.
She'd known the reason of necessity hadn't been an
option since Brody had been aware of the bucket the Indian [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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