The Lawman's Surrender: The Calhoun Sisters, Book 2 by Debra Mullins Page A

lines around his eyes and mouth. How much of it was from years of riding the trail beneath the merciless sun, and how much from hard living? He turned to look at her suddenly, his sherry-colored eyes seeming dark and mysterious as he met her gaze across the fire.
    The seconds ticked by. Her heart pounded, her mouth growing dry as awareness pulsed between them. Slowly he rose and came around to her side of the fire. Her pulse skipped erratically as he approached, and she wondered what was wrong with her. She had been in the company of men much more attractive than Jedidiah without feeling as if her heart were about to explode from her chest.
    Yet as he stopped before her, prickles of sensation swept across her flesh, making her feel as if her skin were suddenly too small for her body. He stood there for a moment, looking down at her, then he crouched so that their faces were level.
    Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the key to the handcuffs and unlocked them. He removed the metal bracelets, setting them on the ground at his feet, then took her hands in his, rubbing her chafed wrists with his thumbs.
    Her breath caught at his gentle caress. The tiny sound caught his attention, and he met her gaze.
    “I’m sorry about today,” he said quietly. “I told that story to throw Caldwell off our trail. I didn’t realize that it would hurt you.”
    She only nodded, uncertain how to answer him, so confused by her own emotions that anything she said was sure to come out horribly wrong.
    He continued to stroke his thumbs over the red marks left by the handcuffs. “You’re such a strong woman,” he continued. “It’s hard to remember sometimes that you have feelings just like the rest of us.”
    Strong? He thought her strong? A sob escaped Susannah’s lips, and tears stung her eyes. She had never felt more vulnerable in her entire life!
    “Hey now, what’s this?” He brushed a lone tear from her cheek. “Come on now, angel, don’t cry. Yell at me. Insult me like you always do. I’ll even let you kick me, but please don’t cry.”
    She sniffled, trying desperately to control herself. She refused to break down in front of him; her pride wouldn’t allow it. “I’m not crying.”
    He eyed her with clear skepticism. “All right, you’re not crying.”
    She took a deep breath and sat up straight, hoping her nose wasn’t red as a beet from the brief sniffle. “I’m not crying,” she repeated. “I’m fine.”
    “Susannah, you’re more than fine,” he said. “Any other woman would have been leaking buckets by now.”
    “Well, I’m not any other woman,” she said.
    He reached out a hand to gently touch her hair, her face. “You can say that again.”
    She swallowed, and her lips parted as his fingers lingered, trailed along her jaw. She didn’t dare move, didn’t dare breathe, lest she disturb the strange current that flowed between them. She looked into his eyes and saw the same need, the same confusion, that she felt.
    “I must be crazy,” he murmured, sliding a hand beneath her hair at her nape. Then he leaned forward and kissed her, his lips soft and sweet, clinging to hers with a tenderness that shook both of them.
    Her eyes slid closed. She should push him away. But the kiss wasn’t threatening, and the passion she sensed inside him remained firmly under his control. Still, the magic of his touch seduced her, and for just a moment she indulged her need for the comfort of his caress. She grazed her fingers along his arm, needing to touch him.
    He broke the kiss and stared into her eyes for a long moment. Then he stood. “This is not a good idea,” he said, his voice a rough whisper. “Why don’t you go on over behind those rocks and take care of your private needs, while I finish setting up camp?”
    “All right.” She slowly rose and smoothed her skirts with trembling fingers. The sweetness of the kiss had shaken her down to her soul, and she struggled to go on as if everything was normal.