By Terry Irene Blain
Copyright 2012 Terry Irene Blain
“How’re you getting on? Any of the men bothered you?”
April surprised him by giving a small laugh that sounded like delight. “Mr. McKenzie, the only man on this wagon train who has made ‘improper advances’ is you.”
For a moment Dan had no idea what she was talking about. Then the memory of his offer that night on the inn porch came rushing back. He hoped the gathering darkness hid the flush creeping up his neck.
“And if you remember, I’m able to take care of myself,” she teased in the same light voice. She made a fist and gently placed it against his belly.
She was so close he caught the light scent of violets from her hair. Unable to resist, he slowly brought his hands up and gently grasped her shoulders. She didn’t move, but her breathing deepened as if she were waiting to see what would happen next. His hand glided up over her shoulder, up the side of her neck, and under her chin. His heart thudded, but he moved carefully, allowing her the chance to stop him. This time, when he tilted her face up to his, she let him. He breathed her name and gently covered her lips with his.