He scowled.It’d be just like old times.
Chapter Two
The cloud of darknessparted in Summer’s mind, opening a small light of awareness. Every muscle in her body screamed in pain, and she clenched her jaw. Protective arms surrounded her, and the swaying motion let her know she was on a horse, curled against a firm body. The man’s musky scent enveloped her. Comforted her.
As the fog lifted, she shifted closer, her hand resting on a solid chest. Gentle fingers stroked down the side of her cheek, and she nuzzled closer. A sharp pain shot through her head, throbbing with every beat of her heart.
She groaned and forced her eyes open, squinting against the sun. Her head pounded, but she struggled against the soreness and the fog in her brain. Suddenly, her memory came rushing back. The stagecoach, the bandits, and especially the archangel of mercy who had come to her rescue.
She let her body relax against the contours of the man’s muscled body. Not too often did she like being protected and cared for by a strong, virile man, but at the moment, she was reluctant to break the spell.
She dared a peek at his face. His deep blue eyes grabbed her attention. Kind eyes. Sunlight glinted off the golden tones of his light brown hair, his thick mustache, and long sideburns. He must have sensed her watching, for his square jaw changed shape, and a soft smile bracketed his mouth.
Handsome. She couldn’t have dreamed up a better vision of a hero, and dream it must be because things this good just didn’t happen to her. Safety and security spread over her like a warm blanket, and she melted against him, closing her eyes while his long fingers continued their tender exploration. It was the first time in her life she had allowed a man to touch her like that—a soft stroke, a gentle caress—and the first time she had ever really relaxed in a man’s presence.
“How do you feel, Summer?”
The soft, baritone voice rumbling in his chest seemed oddly familiar. Summer frowned and took a second peek at his hair, his mustache, and that incredible mouth. He gave her a full smile.
Awareness tugged at her memory and a large knot formed in the pit of her stomach. When recognition came, it struck like a thick piece of wood right between her eyes and ripped through every nerve in her body like venom from a rattlesnake bite.
She jerked, moving off the comfortable nest she had made of his chest. “Jesse Slade?”
A crafty smile claimed his face. “The one and only, darlin’.”
She widened her eyes. “Darlin’? I’m not now, nor will I ever be your darling, Jesse Slade.” She couldn’t believe her rotten luck. Her temper snapped, and she fought to move from his grasp. She batted his hands away. “Get your hands off me.”
“Be still Summer or–”
“Let me go,” she demanded.
“Tarnation, Summer.” His hands moved to her waist. “You’re as slippery as a wet weasel.”
“Quit touching me and put me down.”
Although he held onto her, she managed to slither from the horse.
