Free Nan Ryan by Outlaws Kiss

he poured Madeira into two glasses and handed one to Mollie. “Drink it,” he urged. “It will help you relax.”
    Mollie sipped the wine and almost instantly began to feel its calming affects. When she had drained the glass, she said, “Thank you, Jeff, for taking care of everything. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m awfully tired.”
    “Have another glass of Madeira and you’ll sleep like a baby.”
    “It would be nice to sleep,” said Mollie wearily. “I am tired, so very tired.”
    “Of course you are,” he said sympathetically, pouring her another glass of wine.
    Then Mollie found herself seated on the sofa with the Kid beside her, his comforting arm around her. With her thoughts jumbled, her reflexes slowed, it seemed normal to lean her aching head on his shoulder. She finished the second glass of wine.
    “I’ll stay with you tonight,” the Kid said, and warning bells began to ring in Mollie’s fuzzy brain.
    “No, no, that isn’t necessary,” she said, slipped from his arm, and stood up.
    The Kid rose. “Mollie, honey, your daddy’s gone and now it’s up to me to take care of you. Tomorrow we’ll marry, and—”
    “Marry? You?” She was incredulous. “I’m not about to marry you, Kid, and I want you to go. Get out of my room.”
    “You don’t know what you want. You’re a child. A spoiled child who has no idea what it is to be woman.” He loomed big and close before her. “High time I showed you. Don’t want marriage? Fine with me, but you’re my woman, Mollie, and I’m not waiting any longer to have you.”
    Mollie automatically reached for the pistol on her hip, then remembered she had respectfully left it behind when she’d gone to her father’s memorial service. The gun was in the other room.
    Backing away, Mollie said, “You’re talking crazy, Kid. I’m not yours, I’ll never be yours.”
    “Sure you will, honey,” he drawled, advancing on her, spurs clanking, eyes gleaming.
    Fighting to keep the terror from her voice, she warned, “I’ll scream. I’ll scream so loud—”
    “Scream your head off,” he said, grinning wolfishly, “no one will pay any attention.”
    He was right. In this second-rate posada , screams and shouts were heard round the clock. Nobody ever bothered to investigate.
    Knowing her only hope was to show no fear, Mollie kept her tone level when she said, “I forbid you to—”
    “First lesson,” he cut her off, “you’ll forbid me nothing. You might have bossed your drunken old daddy around, but I won’t hold still for it.”
    He grabbed her arm then and roughly pulled her to him. Mollie was crushed to his solid length, and before she could protest, his thin, hard mouth came down on hers, pressing her lips painfully against her teeth. She squirmed and groaned and twisted her head.
    He released her. She backed away, wiping her mouth on her shirtsleeve. Unruffled, the Kid began to unbutton his shirt.
    “You can make this easy or hard on yourself,” he said conversationally. “I planned on being gentle with you, but I prefer it the other way.” His gray eyes glittered with sexual excitement. “I always figured you’d be the fighting kind. Bet you’ll put up one hell of a battle, won’t you, darlin’? Scratch and claw and make me work hard to get it?” The grin growing wider on his bearded face, he took off his shirt, tossed it aside.
    “You are insane!” Mollie said, repulsed by his words and by the sight of his bare torso. Hair—thick, dark animal hair—covered his entire chest and belly and crawled up over his shoulders and down his back. “You’re crazy!”
    “Crazy about you,” he said. “Have been since the first time I saw you when you were just a skinny fifteen-year-old kid. I wanted you then. Couldn’t sleep for thinking about how it would feel to have those long, coltish legs wrapped around my back.”
    “Shut up, you filthy beast,” Mollie shouted, her violet eyes flashing with anger and disgust.
    “Now you’re no