He’d never called her angel face before. Jo kind of liked it, fool that she was. “Of course I want you home. Everyone does.”
“And after all I’ve done. I didn’t expect to be welcome.”
“Funny thing about home. No matter what, you’re always welcome.”
He picked up a pistol, his long capable fingers stroking the pearly handle. The way he did that made her nervous, but she couldn’t figure out why. He’d had those guns for as long as she’d known him and never fired a one. When she’d asked once why he wore them he’d said, “Penance, Josephine,” and looked so sad she hadn’t had the courage to pursue what he meant.
She moved closer, plucked the rifle from the floor and the pistol from his hand, then placed all of the weapons, hers included, on the far side of the table.
“Time to go?”
He sprawled in the chair, far too big for the thing, shirt unbuttoned, feet bare. At least his pants were fastened. Despite his years of dissipation, there was no fat on him. Sometimes she wished there was.
“Not tonight,” she answered. “We’ll sleep first, leave at dawn.”
“Dawn seems about right.”
He stood, towering over her, crowding her against the table. Startled at the unaccustomed speed of his movement, Jo glanced into his face and stilled at what she saw there—emotions she’d never seen before and couldn’t put a name to now.
“I missed you so much.”
He knocked her hat from her head. Dust sprinkled across her nose and she fought a sneeze. He touched her cheek with the back of his hand. The need to sneeze vanished as another need took its place. She could not move.
“I missed you too,” she whispered. “Why did you leave?”
“You left first.”
That was true. But he’d told her to go. Agreed along with her stepmother and father that her absence from Rock Creek would be best for everyone concerned. That had hurt, too, along with a hundred other small things.
His large hand moved from her cheek to the back of her head. “I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.”
He kissed her. Jo was so shocked, she let him. His mouth was warm; his tongue tasted of mint. His lips nibbled and pulled as if he would devour her whole.
No one but Nate had ever kissed her. No one but Nate ever would. She could kiss him for hours, days, an eternity. She would do anything for him—gladly. All he had to do was ask.
He scooped her into his arms and tucked her against his chest. Reaching over, he pinched the candle dead. Darkness cloaked the cottage, relieved only by the moonlight through the door. At the bed, he lowered them both to the mattress.
She pushed against his chest. “Wait. Nate, what—”
He lifted his head. “I love you, angel face. I’ve been waiting and waiting for you to come.”
He loved her? He’d been waiting for her? Jo couldn’t believe this. She must have fallen off Ruth and banged her head on a rock in the desert. She was dead and in heaven. She must be, because Nate loving her was a wish come true.
His mouth trailed along her chin, teased her collarbone. How had he gotten her shirt open? She didn’t care when he kissed the slight swell of her breast.
“This will be my last night here, right?” She nodded, speechless. “Let me show you how much I love you. Then when the dawn comes, you can take me home.”
Jo pulled Nate’s mouth back to hers.
* * * * * *
List of Titles
The Rock Creek Books
Reese, by Lori Handeland
Sullivan, by Linda Winstead Jones
Rico, by Lori Handeland
Nate, by Lori Handeland
Cash, by Linda Winstead Jones
The Columbyana novels, in order of publication:
The Sun Witch
The Moon Witch
The Star Witch
Prince of Magic
Prince of Fire
Prince of Swords
Untouchable
22 Nights
Bride by Command
Bride by Midnight
Firebird, a Columbyana novella
For a complete list of previous and upcoming releases check here:
www.lindawinsteadjones.com
Linda Winstead Jones
Linda’s first book, the historical romance Guardian Angel, was released in 1994, and in the years since she’s written in several romance sub-genres under several names. In order of appearance, Linda Winstead; Linda Jones; Linda Winstead Jones; Linda Devlin; and Linda Fallon. She’s a six time finalist for the RITA Award and a winner (for Shades of Midnight, writing as Linda Fallon) in the paranormal category. She’s a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of seventy books. Most recently she’s been writing as Linda Jones in a couple of joint projects with Linda Howard, and rereleasing some of her backlist in ebook format. She can be found at any one of a variety of Facebook pages and at www.lindawinsteadjones.com.
Linda lives in Huntsville, Alabama. She can be reached at:
lindawinsteadjonesauthor@gmail.com
Twitter at @LWJbooks
https://twitter.com/LWJbooks
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Linda-Winstead-Jones/103936415079
Red Door Reads
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