The Rancher Takes A Bride (The Burnett Brides Book 1)

swing. "Papa had a girlfriend who was from France. I was eighteen and completely enamored of her. She was teaching me to speak French—until she found Papa with another woman. Then I never saw her again. But she taught me mainly curse words, so that I could say them without anyone knowing what I was saying."
    He laughed and brushed back her hair.
    "I found that I attracted attention when I spoke French. People automatically assume you're from France. I never lied, but I also never contradicted what they wanted to believe."
    Travis shook his head, but didn't say anything.
    Rose glanced out at the stars twinkling in the north Texas sky. It felt so cozy as she pushed the swing back with her foot, sending the wooden seat to rocking. Travis followed her lead by leaning against the back of the swing. Slowly he raised his arm and slipped it around her shoulders, pulling her in close. She enjoyed the feel of his body against hers.
    Swinging on the front porch in the dark, with Travis's arm around her, felt so good, yet they still had so much unresolved between them. The ring, his accusations, and her acting separated them like the bars of the city jail. But tonight she just wanted to relax, be with him, pretend that everything was fine, pretend that he was courting and she was his lady. Nothing would ever come of this strange attraction between them, because he could never accept who she was. But for just tonight she wanted to forget their problems, if only for a little while. She needed comforting, and for some reason Travis soothed her better than anyone.
    He turned his head toward her at the same time she turned toward him and glanced into his smoldering brown eyes. As the moon slipped from behind a cloud, she could see him gazing at her in that special way that always seemed to take her breath away. His full lips were mere inches away. Inches from pressing against hers, after being separated for what seemed like an eternity.
    She needed his touch, his hands molding her against him in the most intimate way. She wanted to feel the way his kiss shattered her soul and left her soaring for the sky. She longed to see if what she had experienced by the pond had been real and not just a muddy dream.
    With a sigh, she moved, slanting her lips over his, reveling in the sheer joy that consumed her as their mouths connected. Eagerly, he pulled her closer into his arms, his tongue mating with hers, his scent heady and powerful.
    It'd been so long since he'd kissed her, so long since the pond, and she'd missed his touch, his strong embrace, the warmth of his kiss, the taste of Travis as he moved his mouth over hers. The closeness she felt with him tonight was powerful, yet frightening.
    Travis Burnett had the ability to sway her ardently, to persuade her to give herself and her deepest emotions to him. He was her captor and her lover, yet she'd wanted neither. Now she didn't know what she desired, though the thought of leaving Travis left a hole the size of Texas in her heart.
    With his arms, he shifted her until he could lay her down in the swing, his body leaning over her. Her head came to rest against the arm, and the swing teetered unsteadily as his lips moved over her mouth, teasing her bottom lip, gently nibbling until she opened her mouth, reveling in the feel of his lips against hers.
    Why did this man have the power to make her feel more than anyone?
    She cared about Travis. She'd missed him these last few weeks; she'd missed his scent, his smile, the way his eyes followed her around the room. She'd missed his honesty, his trustworthiness, but most of all she'd missed his sensuality that had the ability to make her lose all rational thought.
    His hand trailed down her body, down her chest, his mouth never leaving hers while his lips continued working their magic. She squirmed beneath his touch, wanting her handsome cowboy so badly.
    Heat stronger than the midday sun fired through her as his fingers kneaded her breast. A moan slipped from her lips as desire rippled through her, causing her to twitch beneath him. She wanted to feel his lips around her nipple, feel his caresses once more.
    Her breathing was harsh as she lay beneath him in the swing. The feel of his fingers pushing aside her clothing had her arching to give him easier access. But when she moved, the swing started to teeter precariously. Her bodice was open, her breasts exposed, her arms pinned by the material of her dress. Before she could halt the swing with