âI Promise You Wonât Be Lonely,â Morgan Said.
âAt least for the next two years?â
âAt least,â he said, nodding as he lowered his mouth to hers.
He didnât want to dwell on the length of their upcoming marriage, or the reason for it. At the moment, the feel of Samanthaâs soft body against his and the sound of her soft sigh were sending his libido into overdrive.
Tracing her lips with his tongue, Morgan deepened the kiss to leisurely reacquaint himself with her sweetness, to explore the woman who in two days would become his wife.
Knowing that if things went much further he wouldnât be able to stop, he broke the kiss and took a step back. âIâ¦really should check on a new colt,â he said, turning toward the back door. Without waiting for her response, he stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind him.
Their marriage might not be a love match, but the attraction between them was too strong to be denied. There was no way the two of them could live in the same house, day in and day out, without the inevitable happening between them.
It wasnât a matter of if they made love. The question now was when?
âWhat the hell do you think youâre doing in here?â
In the process of building a fire in the big stone fireplace, Samantha Peterson jumped and spun around at the sound of the manâs angry voice and the old wooden door slamming back against the wall. The biggest cowboy sheâd ever seen stood like a tree rooted in the middle of the threshold. Lightning flashed outside behind him and every story sheâd ever heard about the bogeyman flooded her mind.
His eyes were hidden by the wide brim of his black cowboy hat pulled down low on his forehead, but if the grim set of his mouth was any indication, he was not only the biggest cowboy sheâd ever seen, he was also the angriest. He took a step forward at the same time a gust of wind whipped his long black coat around his legs. Thatâs when Samantha noticed he held a rifle in one big gloved hand.
âIâ¦Iâmâ¦oohââ Samantha bent forward slightly, squeezed her eyes shut and groaned from the sudden tightness gripping her stomach.
âGood God, youâre pregnant!â He sounded shocked.
Anger coursed through her. Heâd scared the bejeebers out of her and all he had to say was, âYouâre pregnant?â
âThank you for informing meâ¦of that fact,â she said through clenched teeth. âI doubt that Iâdâ¦have noticed otherwise.â
âAre you all right?â
His voice sounded too close for comfort, but that was the least of Samanthaâs concerns. She had a feeling this wasnât one of the Braxton-Hicks contractions that sheâd been experiencing for the past couple of weeks. It felt too different to be false labor. This felt like it might be the real thing. But that wasnât possible, was it? She still had three weeks before she reached her due date.
âNo, Iâm not all right,â she said as the tight feeling decreased. Ready to give the man a piece of her mind, she straightened to her full height. âYou scared the living daylightsâ¦â
Her voice trailed off as she looked upâway upâat the man standing next to her. The sheer size of him sent a shiver of apprehension slithering up her spine and had her stepping away from him. The top of her head barely reached his chin. At five foot six, she wasnât an Amazon by any means, but she wasnât short either. But this man was at least ten inches taller and appeared to be extremely muscular.
âLook, Iâm sorry I yelled,â he said, his deep baritone sending another tremor through her that had nothing whatsoever to do with fear. âI expected to find one of the local teenage boys getting ready to throw one of his Saturday night beer busts.â
âAs you can see, Iâm not a teenage boy.â Samantha moved away a couple of extra steps. She needed to put more distance between them, in case a fast getaway was in order. At least, as fast as her advanced pregnancy would allow. âAnd I can assure you, Iâm not getting ready to throw a drinking party.â