Book Description
She dropped from the tree into his arms like a ripe peach, a fiery russet-haired beauty he wanted to devour. But mountain man Sam Taggart came to the Recht Montana homestead to hire a housekeeper, not find a wife. He was out to make his fortune and needed an heiress by his side, a first-rate hostess with a heart of pure ice. Emma Recht was definitely not what he had in mind--a spirited backwoods beauty with a head for business and passion to burn...
He was tall, dark, and dangerous, the handsomest man she'd ever seen. Emma Recht had all she could do to keep from melting in his arms. Sam said she wasn't his kind of woman--but his burning eyes put the lie to his lips. Recklessly she agreed to follow him into the wilderness, certain she was everything he ever needed after a night of wild abandon in the darkened room of a bordello...when he thought she was someone else...
He was tall, dark, and dangerous, the handsomest man she'd ever seen. Emma Recht had all she could do to keep from melting in his arms. Sam said she wasn't his kind of woman--but his burning eyes put the lie to his lips. Recklessly she agreed to follow him into the wilderness, certain she was everything he ever needed after a night of wild abandon in the darkened room of a bordello...when he thought she was someone else...
From the Publisher
"Ms. Logan is destined for great things."
--Romantic Times
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Sam's gaze lowered to her lips, and Emma tried to stop them from trembling. Slowly his fingers relaxed, and his thumbs stroked the rising curve of her bottom. She shivered as his hands skimmed down her thighs, caressing them, and slowly, slowly lifted her nightgown.
"Always so neat, buttoned way up to your chin...smelling like soap and flowers and sunshine and all the time...," Sam murmured as if to himself. "Since you're so experienced--able to match kisses--I guess you'd know what to expect if I put my mouth on you, wouldn't you? If I tasted you just there--"
His thumbs pressed gently on her nipples, and one eyebrow rose wickedly. "If I took you in my mouth--maybe nibbled a bit here and there and licked just the tip...you'd know what to expect, wouldn't you? You'd know that we wouldn't stop unless you stopped me. You'd know that I'd want to...
His lips brushed hers and then fastened to her bottom lip, tugging gently. "Amazing, with all your experience, that you are shaking. Why, Emma, I might even want to see you without a stitch of clothing on you...spread out all rosy and fresh and warm with those big hazel eyes looking at me as though you couldn't wait. Can you wait, Emma? Or are you one of those that likes it fast? Tell me, Emma--fast or slow. Would you want to play a bit first or dive right in and play later?"
The images he served Emma had her gasping, trembling for breath. She wanted to move away, and her breath caught in her lungs as Sam's gaze lowered to her throat and then to her gaping neckline.
"You're missing a button, sweetheart," he murmured, lifting her suddenly so that he could place his face within the material, searching for the rise of her breast, which he nuzzled with his lips, never kissing, always roaming, brushing lightly against her sensitive skin.
Emma melted, sizzled, and moved her breast against his lips, aching for the sweet tug she remembered. When Sam inhaled sharply, tugging away the material with his teeth and finding her nipple, she cried out, her fingers digging into his shoulders. "Is that what you want, Emma?" he asked shakily.
Sam's body thrust upward suddenly, his desire thrusting against her intimately. With one movement he jerked up her gown and flipped her beneath him. He shook violently as he stared down at her. "Damn you, Emma. This is no game. I want you."
She tried to speak but stared at his hard flat nipple. So different from hers, it fascinated her, and she wondered if he felt as deeply as she did when suckled. Emma lifted to place her lips on him.
Sam's tall hard body lurched against her, a ragged groan dragged from him, shocking her. To see if this first reaction had been an accident, Emma flicked her tongue across his other nipple. Sam's hard body bolted against her. "Where did you learn a thing like that?" he asked in hushed outrage.
Encouraged by his shocked look, Emma wallowed in her success. She needed to be honest with Sam. "If you challenge me, Sam Taggart, I fear I must retaliate. Today I thought you were beautiful...your skin gleamed in the sun, and the movements of your body...your bottom gets like two hard apples when you put your weight into controlling Tenkiller. There are tiny ladders of muscles on your stomach, and I wanted to place my hand on them, to feel them move."
She had stunned Sam, whose eyes widened momentarily. His low, uneven voice rang with male indignity. "You make me sound like a...Nice women don't just go...tasting men like that. Or talking about their backsides, like they were...studs at an auction. You can't just talk about me like I'm a peach you want to suck. Emma, you put your mouth on me like that again, and I'll--"
Sam's long body went taut, and he shivered as she took up his challenge. She placed the tip of her tongue exactly on his nipple and flicked it. She smiled at him and smoothed his hair, because he looked so shaken.
"At times, Sam Taggart, I am not nice but willful and determined. You should know that if you are to continue." She wanted him in her as before, throbbing mightily within her keeping. Emma sighed, lifting her thighs to accept him.
Sam jerked up, bracing himself above her, his face hard, all angles and shadows, his eyes brilliant beneath his narrowed lashes. The dim light danced across the straight black lengths, fascinating Emma, and she ran her fingertips across them, exploring another tiny scar at the end of his right eyebrow.
"Emma, I'm not certain I like every inch of me inspected like a prime-- What do you want?" he grated out hoarsely.
The berserker within Emma lurched out of control, ignited by the questions tormenting her about Sam. She worried that she would not make him happy, though she had seemed to do quite well at Amanda's Place. She placed her hands on his cheeks and asked hurriedly, "Tell me how you have women. Have there been many? How many times can you act as stud in one night? I know stallions must rally, but a rooster flies from hen to hen--"
At first Sam looked blankly down at her, the spear of hair quivering across his forehead. Then the curve of his mouth softened, and his face gentled. "You'd better not push me. If you really had that one time, you're still close to being a virgin. If you push me now, I might do something that would shock your tight little idea of how it is with a man and a woman."
His tender look excited the berserker running wild within her. "Perhaps I have shocked you, Sam Taggart," she challenged him with a smile.
One black eyebrow lifted, and Sam bent to kiss her lips. "Why, Miss Recht. I believe you did. And perhaps your pigeons, too. They seem very interested in the proceedings." He glanced down their bodies, tangled on the bed, and when his gaze rose to meet Emma's, she fed upon the heat within him. "If I were to take you now, it would change things. I'd be wanting more."
More. The word sent Emma's arms around Sam's neck. Was it possible there could be more beauty than the first time?
"You're a warm woman, Emma," Sam whispered huskily.
"Always so neat, buttoned way up to your chin...smelling like soap and flowers and sunshine and all the time...," Sam murmured as if to himself. "Since you're so experienced--able to match kisses--I guess you'd know what to expect if I put my mouth on you, wouldn't you? If I tasted you just there--"
His thumbs pressed gently on her nipples, and one eyebrow rose wickedly. "If I took you in my mouth--maybe nibbled a bit here and there and licked just the tip...you'd know what to expect, wouldn't you? You'd know that we wouldn't stop unless you stopped me. You'd know that I'd want to...
His lips brushed hers and then fastened to her bottom lip, tugging gently. "Amazing, with all your experience, that you are shaking. Why, Emma, I might even want to see you without a stitch of clothing on you...spread out all rosy and fresh and warm with those big hazel eyes looking at me as though you couldn't wait. Can you wait, Emma? Or are you one of those that likes it fast? Tell me, Emma--fast or slow. Would you want to play a bit first or dive right in and play later?"
The images he served Emma had her gasping, trembling for breath. She wanted to move away, and her breath caught in her lungs as Sam's gaze lowered to her throat and then to her gaping neckline.
"You're missing a button, sweetheart," he murmured, lifting her suddenly so that he could place his face within the material, searching for the rise of her breast, which he nuzzled with his lips, never kissing, always roaming, brushing lightly against her sensitive skin.
Emma melted, sizzled, and moved her breast against his lips, aching for the sweet tug she remembered. When Sam inhaled sharply, tugging away the material with his teeth and finding her nipple, she cried out, her fingers digging into his shoulders. "Is that what you want, Emma?" he asked shakily.
Sam's body thrust upward suddenly, his desire thrusting against her intimately. With one movement he jerked up her gown and flipped her beneath him. He shook violently as he stared down at her. "Damn you, Emma. This is no game. I want you."
She tried to speak but stared at his hard flat nipple. So different from hers, it fascinated her, and she wondered if he felt as deeply as she did when suckled. Emma lifted to place her lips on him.
Sam's tall hard body lurched against her, a ragged groan dragged from him, shocking her. To see if this first reaction had been an accident, Emma flicked her tongue across his other nipple. Sam's hard body bolted against her. "Where did you learn a thing like that?" he asked in hushed outrage.
Encouraged by his shocked look, Emma wallowed in her success. She needed to be honest with Sam. "If you challenge me, Sam Taggart, I fear I must retaliate. Today I thought you were beautiful...your skin gleamed in the sun, and the movements of your body...your bottom gets like two hard apples when you put your weight into controlling Tenkiller. There are tiny ladders of muscles on your stomach, and I wanted to place my hand on them, to feel them move."
She had stunned Sam, whose eyes widened momentarily. His low, uneven voice rang with male indignity. "You make me sound like a...Nice women don't just go...tasting men like that. Or talking about their backsides, like they were...studs at an auction. You can't just talk about me like I'm a peach you want to suck. Emma, you put your mouth on me like that again, and I'll--"
Sam's long body went taut, and he shivered as she took up his challenge. She placed the tip of her tongue exactly on his nipple and flicked it. She smiled at him and smoothed his hair, because he looked so shaken.
"At times, Sam Taggart, I am not nice but willful and determined. You should know that if you are to continue." She wanted him in her as before, throbbing mightily within her keeping. Emma sighed, lifting her thighs to accept him.
Sam jerked up, bracing himself above her, his face hard, all angles and shadows, his eyes brilliant beneath his narrowed lashes. The dim light danced across the straight black lengths, fascinating Emma, and she ran her fingertips across them, exploring another tiny scar at the end of his right eyebrow.
"Emma, I'm not certain I like every inch of me inspected like a prime-- What do you want?" he grated out hoarsely.
The berserker within Emma lurched out of control, ignited by the questions tormenting her about Sam. She worried that she would not make him happy, though she had seemed to do quite well at Amanda's Place. She placed her hands on his cheeks and asked hurriedly, "Tell me how you have women. Have there been many? How many times can you act as stud in one night? I know stallions must rally, but a rooster flies from hen to hen--"
At first Sam looked blankly down at her, the spear of hair quivering across his forehead. Then the curve of his mouth softened, and his face gentled. "You'd better not push me. If you really had that one time, you're still close to being a virgin. If you push me now, I might do something that would shock your tight little idea of how it is with a man and a woman."
His tender look excited the berserker running wild within her. "Perhaps I have shocked you, Sam Taggart," she challenged him with a smile.
One black eyebrow lifted, and Sam bent to kiss her lips. "Why, Miss Recht. I believe you did. And perhaps your pigeons, too. They seem very interested in the proceedings." He glanced down their bodies, tangled on the bed, and when his gaze rose to meet Emma's, she fed upon the heat within him. "If I were to take you now, it would change things. I'd be wanting more."
More. The word sent Emma's arms around Sam's neck. Was it possible there could be more beauty than the first time?
"You're a warm woman, Emma," Sam whispered huskily.
