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

chase his doubts away.
    He'd been wrong once again about her. Rose was his own little con artist. She was not greedy and mean, but an innocent victim of a father who had abandoned his only daughter to somehow make it on her own. And she'd done the best job she knew how with the resources available to her.
    Her mouth opened up like a flower, and his tongue caressed the inside of her lip, then swept her mouth, insistent and urgent. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him, pressing her sweet body against him, seeking what he was more than happy to supply.
    With a swish of skirts, he lifted her in his arms and carried her to his bed. Needing the contact of her mouth to his, he covered her lips once again, nipping at her bottom lip, drinking of her sweet nectar.
    Joining her on the bed, he curled around her, wrapping her in his arms.
    The urgency to be next to her, to touch her, almost overwhelmed him. She was leaving, and he needed to be imprinted by her body one more time. To somehow absorb as much of her in one night as he was capable of, though he knew his thoughts were irrational.
    His hand skimmed down the front of her dress, cupping her breast, kneading the soft mound, while he ached to wrap his lips around her sweet nipple.
    He'd taken her once in a hurried fashion, along the banks of the pond. This time he wanted to linger over her body, explore her, relish in her sweet curves. This time had to be special, since it would be their last. This time had to last him a lifetime and then some, because he couldn't ask her to stay.
    She tasted of erotic dreams and lazy mornings, and if this was a dream, he didn't want to awaken if Rose was not in his bed, lying beneath him. His lips trailed down her neck, across her silken shoulder, as his hands worked at the buttons of her dress.
    His fingers fumbled, and she brushed them away. Quickly she undid the buttons on her dress and opened the bodice of her gown. He smiled and for a moment felt lost in her hot emerald gaze.
    Until she pulled his mouth back down to her lips, collecting his attention once again, while kissing him hungrily. His hand reached inside and tenderly plucked her hardened nipple from her chemise, the pebbled kernel hard and wanting, just like him.
    Reluctantly, he released her sweet mouth and continued his exploration across her shoulder and down her chest, leaving a trail of soft, moist kisses across her sensitive flesh.
    God, he didn't want her to go. She'd brightened his life, she made him laugh, she defied him at every turn, and now she was leaving.
    He encircled her nipple, moving closer and closer until finally he flicked his tongue across the hardened pebble. Rose arched her back, pressing the kernel closer to him, wanting more. She moaned, a deep, earthy sound, as he suckled her breast, his mouth teasing and taunting her with his tongue.
    From the very beginning she'd attracted him, intrigued him. Yet he'd believed the worst about her, when really she'd been an innocent, left to struggle and find her own way in the world.
    He opened her chemise wider when her dress got in the way. Finally she pushed him aside and sat up on the edge of the bed. She stood and faced him, her lips turned up in a tantalizing smile that left him breathless. Slowly, she peeled her dress from her body and stood before him in her under-petticoat, her chemise hanging down to her knees. Her breasts beckoned him through the filmy material.
    Rose untied her petticoat and let it drop to the floor in a pool at her feet; then she stepped out of the cambric material. Her drawers peeked out from beneath her chemise as she turned and pulled the loose garment over her head. When she turned around, she faced him in nothing but her drawers, and he gasped at the sight of her naked breasts, pleased she was no shrinking violet.
    He held out a hand and she placed her palm in his and he pulled her into bed, determined not to let her out again.
    But Rose had other ideas as she promptly pushed him out of bed.
    "Uh-uh. It's your turn now," she indicated with a wave of her hand, pointing at his pants. "Lose 'em."
    She reclined in his bed, her dark hair splayed across his pillows. She looked as though she belonged there. This room, this bed, might have been made for her, and he couldn't help but stare.
    A smile creased her face. "What are you waiting for, cowboy? Dawn?"
    He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled his boots off. When he was finished, she pushed him off the bed.
    "On