The Pursuit Read Online Free Page B

hesitant at first to accept Lincoln into their group, but it wasn’t long before he called them all his friends. And how quickly they all became his enemies.
    Lost in memories, Lincoln had nearly reachedthe pond before he realized that it was occupied. A family of four, apparently, the woman sitting near the edge watching two young girls splashing about in the water, the man lying in the tall grass some distance away, napping—or trying to. The wife was attempting to keep the girls’ giggling down to a quiet level that wouldn’t disturb her husband.
    Lincoln had never known adults to make use of the pond, but of course there must have been many changes to the area in the nineteen years he’d been gone, with more people living there these days. It would be rude simply to ride off now, even though he was in no mood for conversation with strangers—unless he could leave without their being aware of him.
    He stopped his horse about fifteen feet away. The woman’s back was to him, the children low enough in the water that only the tops of their heads were seen. They hadn’t heard him yet, over the noise they were making. Well enough, he could at least try to keep it that way and leave quietly. Then his horse neighed.
    “Hello.”
    He sighed and started to dismount. The woman had turned just her head to see him before offering the greeting. Then she stood up, bonnet in hand, giving him a full view of her now, as well as a friendly smile, and he was quite frankly stunned. His hand stuck to the pommel of his saddle. One foot still in a stirrup, he literally froze there in motion. And the thought crossedhis mind that the man lying there taking a nap had to be the luckiest bastard alive.
    She was very tall for a woman, only three or four inches under six feet was his guess. She was dressed in plain country garb: a brown skirt with no hint of a train, a long-sleeved white blouse without pleats or other frills, sturdy walking boots—they’d brought no horses with them—and a plaid shawl currently tied about her hips that would come in handy if it rained.
    The clothes said she was just a country lass, and probably a poor one at that. The husband and children with her said that Lincoln should think of something other than how her soft lips would taste.
    It wasn’t just the height he found very intriguing—he’d never held a woman that tall in his arms—but with everything combined, he was quite sure he’d never been so instantly nor so strongly attracted before to any other woman. She was very pretty, true, but he’d seen prettier. Her figure wasn’t lush—she was on the thin side—but her height accounted for most of that. Her hips were still gently curved, her breasts at least a handful.
    Her face was striking, though, the bones not too prominent, the cheeks graced with dimples while her smile lasted. Her brows were arched delicately, but they appeared natural. Her lips were narrow, but they would probably swell lusciously with the right kissing. Her eyes were light green, like twin sparkling gems, and they drewattention immediately, being so pale in contrast with such dark hair.
    Perhaps it was that her long hair was loose, windblown, in wild disarray, which gave her a sensuous, earthy look, as if she’d just risen from a wild night of sex. Exquisite hair, an auburn so dark it was nearly black, yet with the faintest hints of red. This could account for the wave of lust cresting so swiftly and shocking the hell out of him.
    He’d stood there too long, still not fully dismounted, just staring at her, which probably prompted her laugh. “I’ll be thinking I’ve grown an extra ear if you dinna say something. New tae the area, are you? Or just visiting?”
    “No—I mean, yes.”
    He managed to get his other foot onto the ground while his face flushed with color. Her soft burr was enchanting. He’d grown up hearing it from other women, shouldn’t be the least affected by it, but from her it was the sweetest music