Free King's Ransom by Sharon Sala Page B

eyes
and pulled nervously at her long, grey braid, then bustled out of Jesse's
bedroom, talking to herself as she disappeared down the hall. "Whatever it
takes . . . that's what we're going to do. Whatever it takes."
    King took in her
tear-stained face, the rumpled T-shirt, the bare legs beneath, and knew he was
asking for trouble. But for Jesse's sake, he didn't have a choice.
    "Come here
to me," King beckoned in a husky voice, and took her with him across the
hall. Turning back the covers on his king-sized bed, he pointed to the unused
side and gruffly announced, "I'm not sleeping in your room. That bed's
too damn short." He softened his words by the gentleness of his touch as
he crawled between the sheets and pulled Jesse down beside him. "Now go to
sleep, Jesse," he whispered, and gathered her stiff little body against
him.
    He felt a slight
hesitance from her before fear overrode propriety. She backed into the curve
of his body, relaxing with a shaky sigh as she felt the cool firmness of his
long, muscular arms pull her against him.
    "Thank you,
King," she whispered, and drifted off to sleep.
    Don't thank me
yet, he
thought with a silent groan, as the soft curves of her hips settled against his
lower stomach. I've got to get through this night a sane man.
    Turner's old
rooster crowed twice before Jesse forced herself to open her eyes. It had been
so long since she'd been awakened by anything other than alarm clocks that it
took her a moment to re-orient herself. Last night came crashing rudely back.
All the fear and terror of the night had ended simultaneously with being
wrapped securely in King's tender grasp. She allowed herself the luxury of
watching the first early rays of the sun catch in the gold-tipped hair on
King's arms and reveled in the quiet strength emanating from him, even as he
slept.
    The weight of his
arm across the flat of her stomach was only a little heavy and Jesse knew she
would have gladly welcomed all of him in a way King would never imagine. She
turned her head slightly and tried not to let the catch in her breath alert him
as she watched him sleep. He was so beautiful. She smiled to herself. Men
weren't supposed to be beautiful, but . . . tell that to her heart. She
couldn't quit watching his mouth as he slept peacefully, unaware of her. It was
slightly parted, and the thought of tasting the firm, full-cut lips was
intoxicating. Her gaze wandered upwards toward the thick, dark lashes that lay
fanned over his upper cheekbones and knew that they covered dark eyes that
rarely missed anything. Hair lay in mussed abandon on his wide, sun-tanned
forehead. She resisted the urge to gently comb it away from his face. Instead,
she allowed herself to see King as few saw him: quiet and vulnerable.
    But this was
getting her nowhere and making her more than a bit miserable. Jesse sighed
softly and stretched, trying to get enough incentive to move. Yet she didn't
want to move, ever. This was exactly where she'd yearned to be for as long as
she cared to remember. The only thing wrong with the picture was that she was
here for all the wrong reasons. King was doing this out of love all right, just
not the kind of love Jesse wanted from him.
    She felt the
strong, solid length of him, and his even, steady breathing. Carefully, so as
not to alert him, she began to scoot from under his grasp. Even asleep, King
sensed her movement and pulled her back against him. Jesse felt his hand splay
over her stomach, then slide upward until he seemed to find a more comfortable
spot. She held her breath as his hand wandered, then let her breath out slowly
as his hand come to rest just under the soft, generous curves of her breasts.
His sigh of satisfaction made quick tears come and go in Jesse's eyes and she
blinked furiously, anxious that he not awaken to see her in this state.
    She'd
successfully hidden her true feelings for King for years, never allowing
herself to dream that something such as this would ever come to pass. But