A Cowboy Christmas. Janette Kenny

taste the hint of molasses on his breath. “I am relieved you believe that.”

      “I didn’t at first,” he said.

      Ellie spared him a quick glance only to find his gaze was fixed on her mouth. She tried for a smile and damned the way her lips trembled.

      “What changed your mind?” she asked.

      “Seeing you sitting in here looking forlorn,” he said. “If you’d burned this pie on purpose, you wouldn’t do that.”

      Which meant either Hubert or her pa was guilty. She hoped Reid would tell her his thoughts, and what he intended to do about it. But he scooped up the last of the filling, which told her he was more interested in eating than talking.

      She expelled the breath she’d been holding. Thank God, he’d about consumed all of the pie and this torment of sitting close to him would soon be over.

      “Have the last bite,” he said as he lifted his hand to her mouth.

      He couldn’t mean for her to eat the filling off his fingers, yet they remained poised before her. She licked her lips more from nerves than hunger.

      “Thank you, but go on and enjoy it yourself,” she said, proud she’d kept her voice from quavering.

      But she was helpless to keep her heart from thundering like a stampeded herd. His eyes glowed with a sultry light that set her insides blazing hotter than the overheated stove.

      The inviting curve of his lips as they quirked into a knowing smile had hers parting of their own accord. And mercy, but her thighs ached to do the same.

      “I insist you enjoy the last of it.” Something dark and deliciously wicked flared in his eyes.

      “It isn’t proper,” she said, and this time her voice did tremble to betray her outward calm.

      His dark eyebrows wiggled. “Few pleasurable things are.”

      How well she knew. She gave a half-hearted effort to pull away, denying the longing that danced a hoedown within her. It was a struggle to keep her quivering thighs pressed together, but she managed to retain that much dignity.

      “Go on,” he said, and this time she was sure his intentions were far from honorable as he pressed the morsel to her mouth, brushing the syrup over her lips. “You know you want to.”

      Oh, she wanted that and more. She knew it was wrong, but sitting this close to his powerful body and staring into his eyes that glowed with wicked promises pushed all thoughts of propriety from her mind.

      She took a cautious bite and shivered as her tongue grazed his fingertips. The arousing scent emanating off Reid Barclay overpowered the sweet molasses custard melting on her tongue.

      She couldn’t have formed a coherent thought if her life depended on it.

      He poked what remained into his own mouth and licked his fingers clean, his tongue curling around the exact same spot where her tongue had touched. His eyes closed in exaggerated ecstasy and his moan was a song that serenaded her longing.

      This had to be the most wickedly wonderful thing she’d ever done with a man, for though she’d shared an intimacy with Irwin, it was over and done with so quickly she scarce knew what had happened.

      With Reid Barclay she felt things she didn’t know it was possible to feel. Being with him, touching him, brought her body fully alive, as if she’d been sleeping all this time, waiting for him to come along.

      Reid clearly exuded an animal prowess that beguiled her on a purely primitive level. She knew if she made love with him, she’d remember every second for as long as she lived.

      At that moment, she realized she was stuck on an uncharted island. For all her knowledge of the goings on between a man and woman, she knew pitifully little about seduction.

      But there was no doubt in her mind that Reid Barclay was trying his best to seduce her.

      She focused on their disjointed conversation thus far, desperate to gain control of the situation. What had they been talking about? The pie. Dear God, yes.

      “If you’re really that partial to molasses pie, I’ll bake you another one,” she said. “The next time the crust will be nicely browned and I’ll add a fluff topping to it.”

      “Will you feed it to me, Miss Cade?”

      She opened her mouth, but all that came out was a squeak. That had to be the most indecent thing he’d said yet.

      Before she could rally her wits to tell him just that, his lips settled over hers. She was no stranger to kisses. Irwin had started out with frantic demanding ones, then dwindled to perfunctory pecks.

      She’d never realized there was something else to savor. And she certainly savored this lazy stroking of tongues and glide of lips she was experiencing with Reid Barclay.

      He tasted of rich sugar and brandy and delicious temptation, reminding her again of how very little she knew about men. Why, she’d thought he’d be demanding, taking what he desired without thought to her wants.

      But he seemed in no hurry to do more than kiss and hold her. It was as if he knew what she’d hungered for all her life.

      The gentle glide of his hands up her arms and down her sides, as if she was something rare and precious he was honoring. This unhurried melding of lips left her ravenous for more.

      Their heated breaths mingled and chased off the chill of uncertainty.

      Her spine, which had gone stiff with shock when their lips first touched, instinctively arched to put her closer to the heat radiating off him. He drew her closer, and she hadn’t realized he’d lifted her onto his lap until she felt the corded muscles in his legs bunch beneath her.

      Against her hip, his erection reminded her of other delights they could share, successfully annihilating any resemblance of this necking to what she’d shared with Irwin.

      For once in her life, she blocked out all thoughts of decorum and propriety and let herself enjoy this moment. Just once.

      His mouth left hers to wander down her neck. She tipped her head back, giving him ample access, then realized that path led to danger.

      “Please, we must stop this,” she said, and was torn between relief and disappointment when he heaved a sigh.

      “Your moral fiber is stronger than mine, Miss Cade,” he said and rested his forehead against hers, his breath sawing hard and fast.

      “Then I’m sorry for your fiancée.” She pulled away from him to break the contact that kept her mind muddled.

      “So am I.”

      Well, she couldn’t fault him for his honesty. She did wish he wouldn’t look at her so intently, for she was sure he was judging her unfairly by her actions thus far.

      “I’m not one to take up with a man,” she said in her own defense. “Especially a stranger.”

      “Didn’t reckon you was,” he said.

      “Even if you weren’t affianced, I believe a man and woman need to get to know one another before making any type of a commitment. That of course takes time,” she said, and knew she was on the verge of rambling, but she couldn’t seem to stop it either. “You know nothing about me, and all I know of you is you raise horses, you’re from England, and you have a fondness for pie.”

      “I stole one off a windowsill once when I was a boy,” he said.

      That statement hung between them for the longest time.

      “On a dare?” she asked, certain he’d done such a thing just to prove he could, for surely the privileged boy was given anything he whimpered for.

      He gave a depreciating laugh. “Nope, my backbone was rubbing a hole in my belly.”

      She stared into his eyes that were near black with some emotion