Magic by Moonlight by MAGGIE SHAYNE

arms.
He deposited her gently into the saddle, held her waist until she
seemed to get her balance. It surprised him when she changed
position, moving one leg to the other side so she sat astride,
rather than sidesaddle, but he made no comment as he then bent to
adjust the stirrups for her. A second later, he swung easily onto
his own mount.
    Then he turned to her. “Hold to the pommel,
lady, and hand the reins to me.”
    She gripped the pommel until her knuckles
were white as Alexandre set his horse into motion at a slow, easy
pace.
    “Great,” she muttered. “So I suppose I’m
stuck here on this animal’s back until we get to the nearest motel,
right?”
    “Quite wrong, dear lady. We will be far less
likely to be discovered if we make camp in yonder woods. Very deep
in them, I should think.”
    “But...but, Al, I’m hungry. We haven’t
eaten. And we don’t have blankets or...or anything.’“
    “We have all we need, Mary Catherine.” He
looked back at her, wondering how a woman could be so capable and
yet so utterly helpless at the same time. “Have no fear. I am your
Musketeer, Lady Hammer. I will feed you and keep you warm. On my
sword, I will.”
    He saw her pale, and then her throat moved
as if she were trying to swallow and couldn’t.

Chapter Seven
     
     
    She had no idea what he was looking for as
they plodded deeper and deeper into the state forest that bordered
the farmer’s property. But he was definitely looking for something.
Scanning the trees, eyeing everything around them, until finally,
he nodded and drew his horse to a halt.
    “This will do nicely.”
    M. C. looked around. “What will do
nicely?”
    “This spot. To make camp.” He dismounted and
walked to her horse, clasped her waist in his big hands, and lifted
her down. As soon as she put weight on her legs, she felt the burn
and pull of muscles she didn’t know she had. Her rear end hurt. Al
saw her wince, and smiled. “No doubt it will be worse in the morn.
If I could have spared you the riding, I would have.”
    She shook her head and limped toward a soft
patch of ground to sit. Al led the horses away from her, to a
stream she hadn’t even noticed before, and let them drink. Then he
took an ancient-looking length of rope from one of the saddles,
slicing it neatly in half with a dagger he’d pulled from his boot.
“I’ll picket them nearby, where there’s grass,” he said, and led
the horses farther along the stream’s bank.
    M. C. leaned back on her hands and wondered
what she’d got herself into this time. She was stuck here, alone
with Al in the middle of the forest, for the night. Al, who’d
somehow wound up with the idea that she was burning up with lust
for him. Not that he wasn’t attractive. He was. Very. Okay, so he
wasn’t the kind of man she’d toss out of bed for eating crackers,
but he wasn’t her type, either.
    She frowned, realizing how little sense that
thought made. Her types—the types she’d usually ended up dating,
way back when she’d still been dating at all—were losers. Oh, they
always seemed okay at first. But then they’d reveal themselves.
There was Mike, who’d kept hitting her up for money. Kevin, who’d
been busted for dealing drugs after their second date. And Tom,
who’d been married. The slug.
    And there was Al. A guy who put honor above
everything else, who could handle a sword like some kind of master,
and who was so polite it was sickening. A guy who’d refused to
leave her until he knew she was safe.
    Definitely not her type. Al was no
loser.
    Problem was, he had to leave. But why was
that so important, anyway? It wasn’t like she was going to go and
fall in love with him or anything. Why not enjoy the guy while he
was here?
    He appeared then from the trees, his arms
loaded down with limbs and deadfall. Dropping the pile to the
ground, he shrugged out of his coat and crouched beside it. His
jeans pulled tight to his backside when he crouched like that. And
the black