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His hands naturally skimmed her body to land at the base of her spine. She smiled and slid her hands up his chest. “Because I don’t want anyone but you to see it down.”

Neither did he, he realized. It was one of the pleasures he hadn’t considered when he took a wife, but all their private moments were just between them. No one had ever come before him. No one would come after him an hour or week down the road. What they did was theirs alone. He liked that. “You’re right. I’m not going to be ordering you.”

Her smile was full of sass without a bit of propriety. He liked that, too.

He meant to kiss her quickly, but the instant his lips met hers, all thoughts of goodbye sighed away on the breeze. She moaned. He stepped closer. She squeezed nearer. Like wildfire set loose in a windstorm, the passion flared between them, making a mockery of his goodbye intentions. This was a welcome-to-my-bed kiss. And he was participating fully, in the yard, in full view of the hands. Damn! He had to get himself under control, but first, just one more kiss. Just one more time to savor the sweetness of his wife. His wife. His.

He pulled back before he lay her down in the dirt. “Lord, woman! You’re as potent as Kentucky sippin’ whiskey!”

If anyone was drunk from that kiss, Elizabeth decided, it was her. She opened her eyes slowly. Leather creaked as Asa swung up into the saddle. Shameless half-bucked, half-hopped in his impatience to be off. Asa pulled him under control. His “You take care of yourself” was gruff.

He sat on the horse, tall and proud. Behind him loomed the mountains. He seemed so much a part of them in that moment. So big. So wild. So aloof. “You, too.” Tears welled, unexpectedly.

“You crying?”

“Of course not.” She blinked the tears back. She wasn’t the weepy sort. The man was only going to be gone for a couple of days, for goodness sake.

He pulled back in an exaggerated movement. “No need to nip my head off.”

“I wasn’t nipping anything.”

His smile was as wide open as the shot she’d given him. He rubbed his shoulder. “No. A man tends to remember where you set your teeth.”

Heat flamed her chest and neck, surging into her cheeks. She’d bitten him last night in that very spot. He’d been driving her crazy and she’d bitten him to get his attention.

“Yup. Pretty as a picture.”

She would have shot him if she’d had a gun handy. Instead, she had to settle for grinding her teeth and enduring his smug, male grin.

“Don’t be mad, Elizabeth.” He reined in Shameless beside her. His fingers grazed her hot cheeks. She could have jerked away, but there was so much tenderness in his touch. So much emotion. She closed her eyes and leaned her cheek into his fingers.

“You please me, wife,” he whispered hoarsely, right there in front of God and half the hired hands. “You please me to my bones.”

“Be careful,” she whispered.

“You bet.”

One last stroke of his fingers and he was gone. She opened her eyes and watched him thunder away. For a moment, it looked as if man, horse and mountains were one. Foreboding snaked down her spine.

“Take care of him,” she murmured to the Guardians.

The moment was broken when Clint and Luke galloped after Asa. She shook her head and chided herself for her foolishness. Asa would be fine. He was too big, too mean, and too good for anything to happen to him.

* * * * *

“Easy now.” Elizabeth coaxed the young stallion back into the restrictions of the lunge line. “That’s it, Prince,” she murmured as he reared and pawed the air, but didn’t bolt. “This is just another way to play.”

He rolled his eyes at her and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Okay,” she agreed, pulling a carrot out of her pocket. “Maybe it’s not as much fun as frolicking with your friends, but you’re going to like it.”

He snorted, pawed the ground, and then pranced closer for the tidbit. “Good boy,” she crooned as he took it from her hand. “With your brains, speed and agility, you’re perfect.”

She eyed him and felt a renewed surge of pride. Jet black with a flowing mane, he was the picture of elegance. Just for pretty, her father had mocked her when he’d seen this colt, the first of her breeding program that combined Arabian and thoroughbred with a touch of mustang.

She had to agree. The colt did give that impression until a body looked at his conformation. At sixteen and a half hands, Sir Prince was pure speed and agility. Too big a mount for her, but a perfect mount for a big man. She grimaced. Who was she kidding? She was breaking this horse for Asa. Shameless was a great horse, but the Rocking C wasn’t a three-up outfit. A man needed a variety of mounts to get the work done. Sir Prince would be a perfect Christmas present. And he was coming along great with his training. Depending on how well he took to the saddle today, Asa might get his present early.

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