Free A Moment in Time by Deb Stover

into her receptive body....
           Deep.   Hard.   Fast.
           "Copping a feel, cowboy?" she whispered, her gaze drifting toward his impudent hand.
           Self-disgust and humiliation shot through him and he shifted his hand from her breast to her shoulder.   "Pardon."   Hellfire and damnation.   He'd been way too long without a woman.   Avoiding her gaze, he shifted her weight from him and rose, dragging her none too gently up beside him.   Careful not to look upon her nakedness again, he released her arm and drew one end of her feather wrap over her shoulder.  
           Though he'd only held her softness for a few startling moments, the feel of her was burned into his palm right through his leather glove.   The savageness of his sudden desire had shaken him senseless enough to make him forget far more important matters.
           Like Ruth.   Furious with himself, Cole turned away from Miss Lolita.   The mare stood quietly.   Guilt was an ugly mistress and she seemed uglier than usual as he climbed the rocky slope.   It sure as hell wasn't like him to think about bedding a woman when his horse could be suffering.  
           Murmuring in a gentle tone, he removed one glove and slowly approached Ruth.   Once certain she wouldn't go crazy again, he checked the mare's head and neck, then examined every inch of her.   Holding his breath, he reached down to feel each of her legs from top to bottom, praying he wouldn't find what he dreaded.   Stooping made him realize that his butt had taken the brunt of their fall.
           Other than some scrapes, she was sound.   "Thank God," he muttered aloud.   "You're all right, old girl."
           "It's my fault."   Miss Lolita's voice came from right beside him.   "I–"
           "Quiet."   Cole glanced up at her and blinked.   At least she wasn't leaking tears all over the place.   A crying woman was just what he didn't need.
           When he returned his attention to the mare where it belonged, his bandanna slipped down to reveal his identity to his hostage.   Hostage.   The word tasted vile, though he hadn't spoken it aloud.  
           He was a kidnapper.
           He yanked the wayward piece of cloth back over his face as if to hide his shame even from himself.   Fat lot of good that'll do.
           " You ?   Don't bother hiding now, because I saw you."  
           Shame slithered through him as he stroked Ruth's neck.   "Damn."   Though he knew he shouldn't, he slipped the bandanna back down, then lifted his head to meet Miss Lolita's accusing gaze.  
           "I never figured you for a kidnapper."   Miss Lolita moved closer, shifting her gaze to the horse.   "Is she really all right?"  
           "Yes, thank God."   Cole ran his hands along the mare's front legs again.   Smiling, he returned to Ruth's head and looked into her soft brown eyes.   "Well, old girl, feel like a little walk?"
           Clicking his tongue, he gathered the reins and applied firm but gentle pressure until the mare took a few steps.   He looked back over his shoulder for any signs of pain.   "By God, she really is all right."
           "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt your horse," Miss Lolita said.   "But you shouldn't have kidnapped me."
           Kidnapped .   Cole swallowed hard, wishing like hell his bandanna hadn't slipped.   Doing this filthy deed anonymously had been one thing, but doing it as Cole Morrison, father of Todd, was quite another.   All the more reason he should be ashamed.  
           Only a coward would hide behind a mask.
           "Why'd you kidnap me?"   She moved closer, her face flushing with obvious anger.   "I'm not Lolita, dammit."
           He looked at her again, remembering the feel of her firm flesh filling his hand–nice and full, but definitely not what men who'd seen Lolita claimed.   Could she be telling the