"No one hurts my woman."
She remained near her horse, one hand on its shoulder. "Am I yours, then?"
He'd often heard a current of humor beneath her words, but not now. She studied him from beneath long lashes.
"You asked me to go back to Bear Creek with you," he reminded her. "As far as I'm concerned, that was an admission that we belong together. We just haven't decided on thewhere."
He thought he saw a soft smile before she turned her face away. She watched her horse lowered its head and drink.
"Do you really think we belong together?" Her voice seemed to soften somehow over the words. "I barely scraped by in a one-room schoolhouse, and you're..."
She gestured toward him.
But, no. He didn't know what she was referring to. "Unspeakably handsome?" he offered.
She crinkled her nose at him. "You're a writer, and... well-read."
He shrugged. "You've got much more animal sense than I do. You could probably survive on the land for months if you had to. I don't have those skills."
She rolled her eyes. "I'm sure all the ladies at your fancy Philadelphia parties will want to hear about animal husbandry and crops."
"What parties? What women?" He'd admitted to his mother's matchmaking, but— "I rarely attend social events. I doubt I'll have time at all after I take over the paper. And anyway, do you honestly care what those imaginary women might think of you?" It seemed ludicrous that the Breanna he knew would be worried about such a thing.
She shrugged, avoiding eye contact.
Something deep in his gut told him to slow down. To follow this rabbit trail, however incongruent it felt.
He stepped closer to her. "You and I have plenty enough to talk about, don't we?"
"For now." She glanced at him, but it was brief.
"You think I'll get bored being with you?" He had to laugh. "Breanna, you are the least boring person I know."
Now the glance she turned on him was pointed. "I'm a novelty to you."
He took another step toward her, this time stopping when he was close enough to reach out for her. He did, snaking one arm around her waist.
She didn't resist but came into his arms.
"You aren't a novelty to me." The thought that he could ever find her boring made him want to chuckle, but he knew that in this intimate moment, she wouldn't appreciate his humor.
"You surprise me," he said. "Constantly. That you would risk your race to save the young Johnson boy." He brushed a few wayward strands of hair from her face. "That you could even feel threatened over what someone might think of you."
Some shadow passed through her expression.
"What is it?" he asked.
The... vulnerability, perhaps? Whatever it was, it fled in the face of his gentle query.
Her gaze changed. Sharpened, somehow, as her glance fell to his lips.
"Why haven't you claimed your boons?" she whispered.
Holding her close like this, a kiss seemed inevitable. All he had to do was drop his head and take it.
Kissing her again had been on his mind for days. It was all he wanted...
But it wasn't, not really.
