Free Must Have Been The Moonlight by Melody Thomas Page A

Alex are all right?”
    “What do you think?”
    She propped herself on her elbow and peered up at him in the meager light. “I think a few hours is certainly more than the ten minutes we had the last time we were alone, Major.”
    The shadow accentuated the provocative curve of her waist. He saw her mouth slide into a smile. “Don’t sound so smug. Miss Donally.”
    “And here I was thinking we could have lusty sex—just me and the desert simoon against your hot naked skin.”
    His eyes narrowed. Little-Miss-Spoiled-For-Life-With-One-Kiss thought she was safe.
    She lay back, content to think herself immune from him. “You mean, you don’t want to strip naked?” she asked.
    His mouth moved into a slow grin. He put his palm on her stomach. “I think it’s the best damn idea you’ve had yet.”
    She slapped his hand away.
    Michael liked that he’d shocked her, and put his hand back, lower this time. He had no idea why anger shot through him, except Miss Donally in all of her restless naiveté was like a shot of brandy in his veins. He bloody should have let her brother deal with her welfare. But when he’d seen her fighting to save the mare’s life, he’d only thought of saving hers. Maybe he’d wanted to be tucked in for the day with Miss Donally and her nice body.
    “You know what else I think?” he said. “You like the thought of getting your hands dirty. It excites you.”
    She didn’t remove his hand, and he was tempted to move it lower. To move his lips against her slim throat. He tried to stay detached. Except there wasn’t anything detached about his erection.
    “I’m not going to kiss you,” he said, reading the look in her eyes. “If that’s what you’re wanting.”
    “Don’t disgust me.” This time she did remove his hand. “You happen to smell like a camel.”
    “And you don’t?” He laughed. His mouth lowered unwillingly, grazing hers. He could make quick work of her bindings, and had an urge to fill his hands with her breasts.
    “And your face is rough,” she rasped, her eyes betraying her awareness of him.
    “You don’t like that, do you?” His thumb slid across her bottom lip. “Have you ever come, Miss Donally?”
    “Let go of me!”
    He grabbed her hand and pressed it into his other hand, grappling easily with her slim form. He could see her pulse racing at the base of her neck. “What if I don’t?” He’d also pinned her with his leg, and if he fought with her anymore, they were liable to lose their shelter.
    He thought about opening her mouth and sucking on her tongue like a sweet orange, and might have if she hadn’t looked so eager for him to do something. Then his hand was on her again, moving lower over her abdomen.
    “You get coy with me, and you’ll lose more than you bargained for, Miss Donally.”
    “You don’t make me nervous.” Her voice was breathy. Challenging.
    Did she think he wouldn’t take her dare? With her gaze on his, he could read her defiance and something far more potent conveyed in her expressive eyes, acting like an aphrodisiac. “Not even now?”
    Her lips parted slightly. She let him trail his palm over the concave curve of her belly.
    Christ, he shouldn’t be doing this, he told himself.
    He should have stopped there.
    He should have stopped before his palm came in contact with the hot juncture between her thighs. He should have removed his hand, but he was suddenly touching her in the most intimate way.
    “Have you ever had a lover?” he asked, the intensity in his tone deceptively casual. He pulled back to look into her face.
    Her lips were compressed. That something he’d seen inher thick-lashed eyes earlier had wobbled into something else. He wondered if a man had ever touched her at all.
    He withdrew his hand. “I’ve never had patience for a practiced flirt, Miss Donally.” His voice was a quiet rasp, more anger-filled at himself for not acting smarter, for putting them both in a place neither had any business