Free Catching Red by Tara Quan Page A

imperceptibly together, a microexpression she knew from extended observation reflected disapproval. “Now I know why you were asking all those questions. Here I thought you were concerned about Gold’s safety.”
    She had found the animal under a temporary shelter less than a five-minute walk from the bunker. With a sheepish smile affixed on her face, she presented her defense. “I won’t hurt Gold, I promise. I’ve done this before.”
    After reading about the process in several books, she had fashioned a head collar and spent months tracking a herd. Though she’d never managed to train a mount to follow her around, she did succeed in taming a small mare once. She rode it for a while. But in the end, she set it free. She was in no position to form attachments. It was safer among other horses than it was with her.
    It took him three steps to reach her. He smoothed his hand over the horse’s golden coat and replied in a cool voice, “It’s not her I’m worried about. Just because you managed to pull on a pair of jeans and sneakers doesn’t mean you’re in any shape to trudge into the woods.”
    She had learned that arguing with this man had about the same effect as reasoning with the undead. So she swung her leg over and allowed him to help her down. With his hands circling her waist, she braced herself against his shoulders. Instead of lowering her to the ground, he held her in place. Their gazes locked.
    She had glimpsed the hungry expression on his face too many times not to recognize its meaning. Until now, he had allowed her to ignore the intensifying attraction that pulsed between them. But something was different. Feminine instinct responded to what her mind didn’t want to accept. Her body softened against his hold. Warmth flooded her cheeks. Inside her shoes, her toes curled. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
    “If you’re strong enough to get on a horse,” he murmured, “you’re strong enough to be kissed.” His tone was casual, but his intent couldn’t be more clear.
    She had known this moment was coming. For the past two days, a shiver of awareness rolled down her spine whenever his hands lingered over her skin. Each night, she had allowed him to pull her so close their bodies were as one. She had melted into the warmth of his embrace—had yearned for his touch and craved the sound of his voice. Whenever he broke contact, her gaze followed him like a moth to a flame. More than once, their heads gravitated so close his lips hovered a breath away from hers.
    For a week now she had been dependent on him for survival. He had been her savior, was still her protector, yet he had not yet made any demands. She had a feeling things were about to change.
    “You could have kissed me before now.” Her mind searched for a way to delay the inevitable. Abandoned villages and towns were littered with books, so she had read about the sexual attraction that brought male and female together. But while she understood human reproduction in a theoretical sense, she had never experienced it firsthand.
    When he spoke, his voice was low, husky, and mesmerizing. “I want you to kiss me because you want to, not because you need my help. Now that you’re strong enough to run away, it’s time you made a decision.”
    All semblance of thought escaped her. With his hands around her waist and her feet far off the ground, she was his willing captive.
    “You thought I was leaving?” She cradled his face with her palms. With her fingertips, she traced the stress lines on the corners of his eyes and between his brows. The thought of departing before her time was up had never occurred to her. “When I need to go, I’ll tell you first.” It was a commitment she didn’t know she was ready to make until the words were spoken.
    “Good.” He tilted his head back. She bent her head forward. Their foreheads met.
    She fought to maintain what little distance they had left. As much as she wanted to risk all in exchange