Page 74 of Mistletoe and Christmas Kisses
Wearing the ring and nothing else.
EPILOGUE
Eighteen Months Later
Macy let sand funnel through her cupped fist as Caleb waded from the ocean, his shirt translucent, his thin cotton breeches adhering to his body so intimately her heart faltered. His cheeks were sun-tinged, his hair a dusky mess tangled about his head.Beautiful.
Mine.
She handed him a towel when he reached her, watching as he mopped his face and chest. Hasty swipes over lean hips, muscular thighs. His gaze was heated when it found hers. “If you keep looking at me with those hot eyes, I’m going to make apologies to the family when they get here and find a quiet spot for us. They’ll understand. The men will at least.”
She sank into the dune, the glow of a southern summer day spreading through her. “Remember the time behind the copse of loblolly pines? At the spring festival?” She trailed her toe along the inside of his calf. “Later, I found sand in some very interesting places.”
He dropped down beside her, covering the front of his breeches with the towel. “You fight dirty, Dr. Garrett. Little Mouse”—he gestured to her gently rounded stomach—“is making you greedy. Every night and most mornings. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but damn, woman, I’m exhausted.”
She rolled against him, placed her lips atop his and did exactly what she knew drove him wild. The man liked fierce, combative kisses. “I want to fight dirty,” she breathed, her hand drifting beneath the towel. With a groan of surrender, he swung her into his arms and raced to the surf. The waves crashed around his knees as he splashed his way in, whipping her ankles and tugging at her skirt. “Caleb Eli Garrett, I’m not dressed for this! You requested I do no swimming in my delicate condition.”
“With me you’re safe, love. Don’t you know that by now?” When the water passed his naval, she began to understand his purpose. She turned in his arms, locked her legs around his waist as he raised her skirt. His shaft was long and hard, pressing into her thigh, begging for entry. His hands went to her bottom, a slight lift, tilt. When they were joined, with one glorious, urgent surge, he captured her lips in a caress she felt to her core.
“You’re the love of my life,” she whispered against the soft skin beneath his jaw. “Some days, I’m still stunned. I thought medicine was all I was ever going to have.”
He halted, holding her steady and gazing into her eyes. His were the warm, rich pewter of a stormy sky. “I can do one better, Doc. Youaremy life. You and little Mouse. I still don’t think I’m—”
“Hush.You, my artistic boatbuilder, areeverything.”
When he only smiled and pulled her closer, she felt certain he was beginning to believe her.
THE END
DEAR READER
Dear Reader~
When I finished TO SEDUCE A ROGUE, I really had this great feeling about Adam Chase’s best friend, Tanner Barkley. A bit cynical, secretive, sexy, in other words, the perfect hero! And who better to pair him with than the daughter of Charlie’s somber chaperone in ROGUE? No daughter of such a severe woman could suffer fools easily.
And we all know how foolish a man in love can act.
Then my editor invited me to participate in a Christmas anthology and TO DESIRE A SCOUNDREL was born.
Katherine Peters is made for Tanner, and for the first time, I wrote about a hero who realizes this simple fact before the heroine! (If you recall, in ROGUE, Adam is clueless until nearly the end. Even Tanner tries to tell him the error of his ways. How sad is that?)
I hope you enjoy this holiday novella as much as I enjoyed writing it.
For more information on my other novels, please visit my website at: www.tracy-sumner.com. I love hearing from readers!
Happy reading,
Tracy
CHAPTER1
South Carolina, 1852
They burst from the still-settling stagecoach like two cats from a burlap sack.
Kate stumbled through a cloud of dust and snapped her flounced skirt with a vicious flip of her wrist. “Dear God, what did I do to deserve this? I simply asked for a quiet Christmas.” She glared at the sky, looking like she expected an answer to be scrawled across the clouds.
Powerless to stop himself, Tanner stepped forward, halting when she stepped back. “I told you I was sorry. Three times, in fact. The cheroot simply got away from me. The wind” —his hand shot out, circled— “just ripped the damn thing from my fingers. My good arm is tangled up in this sling.” He lifted his injured limb and suppressed a wince of pain for his trouble.