Free Renegade Hearts (The Kinnison Legacy Book 3) by Amanda McIntyre Page A
Authors: Amanda McIntyre
shall we?”
Her expression remained stoic. “Well, I guess we can both agree that it was a mistake. And as long as we’re being truthful, until that night--when I seduced you, by the way--you never knew I existed.”
He couldn’t deny that either. Hell, when he’d seen her with Sally at Dusty’s that night, he’d not recognized her. Only after she stormed out and Sally chewed him a new one did he realize who she was. She blamed him for embarrassing her. Hell, he blamed himself, which is why he’d apologized. Had he planned on what happened between them? No, but he couldn’t deny she’d put his life in a tailspin that night. Just before she went back to Chicago and got married. One last fling, he figured. He’d tried to shrug it off, to pretend he hadn’t burned for her weeks after she’d gone.
But that was then, and this was now. Whatever he had stuck in his craw about her, he’d have to battle through, which shouldn’t be too difficult since it seemed abundantly clear that she wanted even less to do with him than he originally thought. She had, however, sparked a curiosity. Or fuck, maybe he just saw it as a personal challenge. Without a trace of alcohol in his system, he wondered if her lips would taste as sweet as he remembered. Tossing good sense aside, he moved closer, forcing her back against the barn until she couldn’t escape. He braced one arm above her and looked down at the fire dancing in her defiant gaze, almost daring him to make a move.
So he did.
She pushed her fists against his chest and he grabbed them, lifting them above her head as he closed in, taking his fill of that sweet mouth. She may have wanted to tell him to go to hell, but her body responded differently. Kiss for fiery kiss, she met his mouth until she broke free of his grasp and held his head, keeping his mouth to hers. He wasn’t sure if the moan he heard was his or hers.
Dalton was ready to take this to a nice soft patch of hay when she ducked away from him. “No.”
“No?” He chuckled. “That sure as hell didn’t feel like no.”
“I wish you hadn’t done that.”
“It was a kiss, Angel, nothing more. And, by the way, you participated fully.”
Her eyes met his. “Exactly, and that’s why it won’t happen again.” She whirled on her heel and headed toward the house.
He whipped off his hat and shook his head. Frustrated in more ways than one, he strode back into the barn. Snatching a horsewhip from the wall, he used it to knock a bottle of Jack Daniels he kept hidden in the rafters. Settling in a hay bale, he uncapped the bottle and took a long pull from it. His eyes watered as the liquid fire slid down his parched throat.
A soft whinny brought his head up and he realized that Beauty had managed to jimmy the latch on her stall. She dipped her head and nuzzled his hand holding the bottle, shaking her blonde mane in protest.
“Yeah, probably not the best medicine for frustration.” The memory of Rein’s words rolled over him, dredging up guilt as he eyed the half-empty bottle in his hand. He had his drinking under control, didn’t he ? It was everything else going on that made it seem like he wasn’t together. He took another drink, capped the bottle, and stuffed it in his jacket. Her scent lingered in his mind. Her lips tasted just as he’d remembered. No great consolation.
He raked his hand through his hair and, heaving a sigh, led Beauty back to her stall, taking care this time to secure the latch. Hearing the sound of a car starting up, he stepped out of the barn and watched the taillights of Angelique’s car disappear as she turned onto the highway.
Not the least bit hungry or ready to face the questions his family was likely to pepper him with, he retreated to his cabin, fixed himself a sandwich, and then showered, letting the hot water ease the tensions of the day. Tossing the towel aside, he turned off the bathroom light and immersed himself into darkness.
He walked over to the window
Her expression remained stoic. “Well, I guess we can both agree that it was a mistake. And as long as we’re being truthful, until that night--when I seduced you, by the way--you never knew I existed.”
He couldn’t deny that either. Hell, when he’d seen her with Sally at Dusty’s that night, he’d not recognized her. Only after she stormed out and Sally chewed him a new one did he realize who she was. She blamed him for embarrassing her. Hell, he blamed himself, which is why he’d apologized. Had he planned on what happened between them? No, but he couldn’t deny she’d put his life in a tailspin that night. Just before she went back to Chicago and got married. One last fling, he figured. He’d tried to shrug it off, to pretend he hadn’t burned for her weeks after she’d gone.
But that was then, and this was now. Whatever he had stuck in his craw about her, he’d have to battle through, which shouldn’t be too difficult since it seemed abundantly clear that she wanted even less to do with him than he originally thought. She had, however, sparked a curiosity. Or fuck, maybe he just saw it as a personal challenge. Without a trace of alcohol in his system, he wondered if her lips would taste as sweet as he remembered. Tossing good sense aside, he moved closer, forcing her back against the barn until she couldn’t escape. He braced one arm above her and looked down at the fire dancing in her defiant gaze, almost daring him to make a move.
So he did.
She pushed her fists against his chest and he grabbed them, lifting them above her head as he closed in, taking his fill of that sweet mouth. She may have wanted to tell him to go to hell, but her body responded differently. Kiss for fiery kiss, she met his mouth until she broke free of his grasp and held his head, keeping his mouth to hers. He wasn’t sure if the moan he heard was his or hers.
Dalton was ready to take this to a nice soft patch of hay when she ducked away from him. “No.”
“No?” He chuckled. “That sure as hell didn’t feel like no.”
“I wish you hadn’t done that.”
“It was a kiss, Angel, nothing more. And, by the way, you participated fully.”
Her eyes met his. “Exactly, and that’s why it won’t happen again.” She whirled on her heel and headed toward the house.
He whipped off his hat and shook his head. Frustrated in more ways than one, he strode back into the barn. Snatching a horsewhip from the wall, he used it to knock a bottle of Jack Daniels he kept hidden in the rafters. Settling in a hay bale, he uncapped the bottle and took a long pull from it. His eyes watered as the liquid fire slid down his parched throat.
A soft whinny brought his head up and he realized that Beauty had managed to jimmy the latch on her stall. She dipped her head and nuzzled his hand holding the bottle, shaking her blonde mane in protest.
“Yeah, probably not the best medicine for frustration.” The memory of Rein’s words rolled over him, dredging up guilt as he eyed the half-empty bottle in his hand. He had his drinking under control, didn’t he ? It was everything else going on that made it seem like he wasn’t together. He took another drink, capped the bottle, and stuffed it in his jacket. Her scent lingered in his mind. Her lips tasted just as he’d remembered. No great consolation.
He raked his hand through his hair and, heaving a sigh, led Beauty back to her stall, taking care this time to secure the latch. Hearing the sound of a car starting up, he stepped out of the barn and watched the taillights of Angelique’s car disappear as she turned onto the highway.
Not the least bit hungry or ready to face the questions his family was likely to pepper him with, he retreated to his cabin, fixed himself a sandwich, and then showered, letting the hot water ease the tensions of the day. Tossing the towel aside, he turned off the bathroom light and immersed himself into darkness.
He walked over to the window