Free Lady Blue by Helen A Rosburg Page A

kidnapped. Robbed and kidnapped. She was absolutely mad to sit in the willow’s pleasant shade and pretend she was having a picnic and polite conversation with an attractive gentleman from the upper echelons of society. He was a common thief! Surely she should wish to end her ordeal and go home. Shouldn’t she? Home. The very thought made her shudder.
    Harmony pictured the dimly lit corridors; dark, dusty drapes; and heavy furniture. How could that ugly stone house be preferable to this fragrant green sanctuary beneath the drooping willow limbs? It wasn’t. Nor was Agatha’s acid-tongued company preferable to the presence of the handsome, charming, and apparently intelligent man at her side. Thief or not.
    No, it was not absurd to want to remain where she was. Her only dismay was in the fact the day had so swiftly waned, bringing her unlikely idyll to an end. As stars began to wink overhead and Anthony gathered his scattered belongings, Harmony brushed a tear from her cheek.

Chapter Nine
    S ummer twilight drained the light from the valley. Dusk settled softly over the green hillsides and stole the definition from the feathery branches of the willow. Birdsong had faded away and the only sound was the rushing of the river against its banks.
    Harmony’s heart had squeezed as she watched Anthony, intent on memorizing every feature. She would undoubtedly never see him again as long as she lived. The thought constricted her throat.
    What a strange day it had been. What a strange man Anthony Allen seemed to be.
    There were a good many things Harmony found unusual and incongruous about Anthony Allen. An interest in, and knowledge of horses was one thing. But how had he come to know so much, and care so much, about cattle? Surely that was not the usual area of interest for a common thief. Harmony, however, strongly suspected that Anthony was not merely a common thief.
    While pondering her handsome abductor, Harmony realized the darkness had deepened and a crescent moon now rode in the sky. Somewhere in the hills a fox yipped and howled. “It’s getting late. I guess I’d better saddle up the horses.”
    “Yes,” Harmony replied dully. “I guess you’d better.” She watched him hold out his hands to her.
    His grip was strong and firm and warm. Harmony let him pull her upward. He did not let go of her hands. His expression was sober as he gazed into her eyes.
    Harmony didn’t know whether to cry or to give in to the shivering arousal she felt being so close to Anthony. Nor did she know what she wanted. Why did he look at her with such intensity? Not knowing what else to do, Harmony closed her eyes. She was completely unaware of the parting of her lips, or her body straining forward, closer and closer to his. She was aware of nothing until she felt him release her hands and place his palms to her cheeks.
    “No,” Anthony groaned. “No, Harmony. It’s wrong. I … can’t …”
    But he was too near. Harmony had never felt anything so physically powerful as her attraction to this man. She had never been so aware of every inch of her body, and the secret, private parts of her body. She had never wanted to kiss a man as badly as she wanted to kiss Anthony Allen. She surrendered to her longing.
    The touch was searing. They came together not gently, but with all the pent-up passion that had built between them. Anthony’s lips were crushed against hers, his palms pressed flat to her cheeks. Her body became a pillar of fire.
    It was over before the fire could consume her. Anthony pulled away almost violently and held her at arm’s length.
    “We have to go,” he said hoarsely. “Now.”
    In the next instant she was alone and trembling while Anthony saddled the horses. Her heart raced and she could scarcely catch her breath. Her body ached and tingled all at the same time. She felt as if she might faint.
    But she did not. Somehow she managed to mount the gray mare, gather the reins, and follow Anthony out of the moonlit