Free Lone Stallion's Lady by Lisa Jackson Page A

couldn’t swallow, caught his rhythm, moving furiously with him. A billion stars flashed behind her eyes. Her mind spun with wild, erotic images and she cried out as the world seemed to shatter into brilliant shards of light. Body and mind convulsed.
    He threw back his head and with a primal cry spilled into her, releasing himself. Letting go. He fell against her and sighed, his fingers twining in her hair as he kissed her cheek. “Celia.”
    The alias hung in the air.
    Her lie.
    Her deception.
    She opened her mouth, determined to set the record straight. He kissed her again and all her good intentions fled. For this night, she would give in to the desperate urges of her body and when it was over, she’d leave. He’d never know the truth….
     
    Until now, she thought as she stared at the broad expanse of Montana sky. High above, the moon gilded the Kincaid ranch with its pearlescent light. Somewhere far off a coyote cried and Gina rubbed her arms. How could she ever explain what happened? To Trent? To herself?
    Was it possible?
    “What’s going on?” a deep male voice asked, and she visibly jumped.
    Whirling around, she found herself face-to-face with Trent Remmington. Moon glow cast his face in silveryshadows and yet she was able to read his harsh expression and knew that whatever he had to say, it wasn’t going to be pleasant.
    “Nothing. I—I just couldn’t sleep. Thought maybe some fresh air would help.”
    “Did it?”
    “Not so far.”
    “I couldn’t get any shut-eye, either,” he admitted as he walked to the fence and leaned against it. “I kept thinking about the night we met in Dallas and how you lied to me.”
    Here it comes, she thought, expecting him to lambaste her for keeping her identity a secret. Instead, he blindsided her.
    “I didn’t realize it until the next morning,” he admitted, obviously irritated with himself. “But that night we were together, it was your first time, wasn’t it?” He sounded disgusted. With himself? Or her?
    “I don’t understand…” She let the sentence drift into the shadows.
    “Sure you do. You’d never been with a man before, had you?” His lips compressed. “You—Celia, or Gina, or whoever-the-hell you are—were a virgin.”

Five
    “E xcuse me,” she said, and even in the moonlight he saw the blush staining her cheeks.
    “You neglected to tell me you were a virgin.”
    “You didn’t bother asking.”
    She met his gaze boldly, almost daring him to make some inane comment about being over twenty-five and saving herself. For what? Him? He doubted it and felt like a heel.
    “Did it matter?”
    “To me?” He shook his head. “But I thought it might to you.” She lifted a shoulder beneath the white terry-cloth of that short little robe thing in what he considered measured nonchalance. Any woman who’d held off that long didn’t take going to bed with a manlightly. And yet she was the one who had disappeared before dawn.
    “It’s not that big of a deal.”
    “What about Jack?”
    “What?”
    “The guy you were talking to on the phone. What about him?”
    She snorted. “My sex life isn’t any of his business.”
    He digested this, listened to the sounds of the night—a horse snorting in a nearby field, frogs and crickets competing for air space while a bat swooped from a hidden roost. “So what’s your relationship with him?”
    “If you want to know the truth…”
    “Well, that would be a nice change of pace.”
    Her lips flattened together for a heartbeat, then she added, “Jack and I are very close. Extremely. He would understand. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’d better try and get some sleep.” She started to march away, but he was tired of her flouncing exits.
    “No way, lady,” he said, grabbing hold of her wrist, spinning her back to face him and feeling how small the bones were beneath his fingers. “I think I deserve some answers.”
    “Why?”
    “Because the ones I got in Dallas weren’t exactly on