being, yet, at great risk to himself, could bring an animal and two strangers three days across hostile territory. Knowing it wasn’t over yet brought a shock of tears to her eyes. She was suddenly afraid for him.
He lifted her tagilmust as it fell lose. “I meant what I said about maintaining your disguise and staying with Abdul.”
“The last thing I want is for you to worry, Major.” Then, knowing she might never see him again, Brianna did something she knew she shouldn’t have. Goodbye . She stepped forward on the balls of her feet and kissed him.
Without waiting for the drumming in her ears to subside, she pulled away to leave, only to meet the steel of his hand at her nape. Her gaze snapped up to his. He’d gathered the cloth of her turban and tipped her head back, his silky eyes sliding to her mouth. Her lashes drifted shut the moment his mouth touched hers, feather light at first, inquiringly, as if tasting her, testing her response with solicitous efficiency. Altering his lips subtly, he touched his tongue to the full curve of her bottom lip, and the kiss that had been chaste before began to burn with a strange exotic blue flame fanned by her racing heart.
He slipped his tongue between her lips to dance with hers, the cadence between them becoming a beat, a velvet rhythm that only they heard in the dimness of the night.
She had no idea what her body was doing. Sliding her hands to his neck, she rose on her tiptoes, seeking more of the heat that enveloped her. He held the rifle gripped in one hand; his other had drifted down the curve of her back. Heat branded her flesh. She became lost and alive at once, every sense heightened to the body pressed against hers, singularly aware of the contrast between the softer burnoose he wore and the hardened male beneath. Then, as if by mutual assent, the kiss deepened and flared into something more primal.There was no gentleness in his possession as he deliberately dragged her into a sensual tide so elemental that any sense to protest was swept away by the roaring in her veins and her groan of surrender. Or did that sound come from him?
She basked in the sensual feast, teetering on the brink of a shivery exhalation, a miasmic bog clouding her brain, when reality intruded. Some noise outside the tent reminded them where they were.
She opened her eyes to find him looking down at her. Her lips throbbed. Beneath her fingertips she could feel the slight bump on his head where Alex had hit him with the rifle. She withdrew her arms.
His thumb eased over her bottom lip. “This will make for interesting gossip,” he said, referring to the other men in the tent.
A keen sense of horror fell over her. Although there was no amusement in his eyes, neither was there admiration or devotion. Where she had lost control, it was clear that he had not. This was probably regular fare for him, the ladies throwing themselves into his arms. He’d only answered her challenge, granting what she’d sought. Major Fallon was no innocent, and she’d stumbled before the dance had even begun.
He held out the rifle. “If you ride past Abdul in the darkness, one of my men will let you know.”
She reattached the tagilmust with trembling fingers before she took the rifle. “Will your man whistle, Major?”
“Would you come if he did? Somehow I doubt obedience is in your nature, amîri . Or that you’re as easy as you seem.”
Brianna had no problem affecting the walk of a man, especially in her agitated state. Men had surrounded her entire life, men who could have invented the masculine persona for Irish arrogance—none of whom held a candle to the very British but not so very proper Major Michael Fallon.
Michael motioned two men standing near the fire to follow Brianna. Without taking his eyes off the pale figure riding like the wind away from him, he reached beneath hisburnoose and withdrew his tin of peppermints. “Is everything ready?” he asked the guard behind him.
“Yes,
He lifted her tagilmust as it fell lose. “I meant what I said about maintaining your disguise and staying with Abdul.”
“The last thing I want is for you to worry, Major.” Then, knowing she might never see him again, Brianna did something she knew she shouldn’t have. Goodbye . She stepped forward on the balls of her feet and kissed him.
Without waiting for the drumming in her ears to subside, she pulled away to leave, only to meet the steel of his hand at her nape. Her gaze snapped up to his. He’d gathered the cloth of her turban and tipped her head back, his silky eyes sliding to her mouth. Her lashes drifted shut the moment his mouth touched hers, feather light at first, inquiringly, as if tasting her, testing her response with solicitous efficiency. Altering his lips subtly, he touched his tongue to the full curve of her bottom lip, and the kiss that had been chaste before began to burn with a strange exotic blue flame fanned by her racing heart.
He slipped his tongue between her lips to dance with hers, the cadence between them becoming a beat, a velvet rhythm that only they heard in the dimness of the night.
She had no idea what her body was doing. Sliding her hands to his neck, she rose on her tiptoes, seeking more of the heat that enveloped her. He held the rifle gripped in one hand; his other had drifted down the curve of her back. Heat branded her flesh. She became lost and alive at once, every sense heightened to the body pressed against hers, singularly aware of the contrast between the softer burnoose he wore and the hardened male beneath. Then, as if by mutual assent, the kiss deepened and flared into something more primal.There was no gentleness in his possession as he deliberately dragged her into a sensual tide so elemental that any sense to protest was swept away by the roaring in her veins and her groan of surrender. Or did that sound come from him?
She basked in the sensual feast, teetering on the brink of a shivery exhalation, a miasmic bog clouding her brain, when reality intruded. Some noise outside the tent reminded them where they were.
She opened her eyes to find him looking down at her. Her lips throbbed. Beneath her fingertips she could feel the slight bump on his head where Alex had hit him with the rifle. She withdrew her arms.
His thumb eased over her bottom lip. “This will make for interesting gossip,” he said, referring to the other men in the tent.
A keen sense of horror fell over her. Although there was no amusement in his eyes, neither was there admiration or devotion. Where she had lost control, it was clear that he had not. This was probably regular fare for him, the ladies throwing themselves into his arms. He’d only answered her challenge, granting what she’d sought. Major Fallon was no innocent, and she’d stumbled before the dance had even begun.
He held out the rifle. “If you ride past Abdul in the darkness, one of my men will let you know.”
She reattached the tagilmust with trembling fingers before she took the rifle. “Will your man whistle, Major?”
“Would you come if he did? Somehow I doubt obedience is in your nature, amîri . Or that you’re as easy as you seem.”
Brianna had no problem affecting the walk of a man, especially in her agitated state. Men had surrounded her entire life, men who could have invented the masculine persona for Irish arrogance—none of whom held a candle to the very British but not so very proper Major Michael Fallon.
Michael motioned two men standing near the fire to follow Brianna. Without taking his eyes off the pale figure riding like the wind away from him, he reached beneath hisburnoose and withdrew his tin of peppermints. “Is everything ready?” he asked the guard behind him.
“Yes,
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