The Drifter

Blurb

The post-Civil War West brings Slade McCord, a haunted, scarred man, brutally betrayed by love and almost destroyed by life, to the wild Arizona Territory on a mission. Lillian Manchester, the sheltered daughter of a rancher, yearns for adventure and dreams of the love and companionship of a strong man--the only one that can tame her restless, wildfire heart.

Like a fresh breeze across the arid desert, Lillian's indomitable spirit and zest for living breathe renewed life into the shell of the man, and Slade is seduced by his desire for the fiery, sensual beauty of a desert flower meant for him alone. Can he break free of the chains that bind him to the past to accept what Lillian offers? Or should he ride away and forget he was ever offered a second chance to live...and love?

Excerpt

>...Slade marveled at the suppleness of such long, well-proportioned legs, muscled and defined by long hours in the saddle. Soon he would have them wrapped around him as he thrust into her. He shook with need as he slid his hands along their resilient, silky length, then lifted her leg, and brought her foot to his mouth, appreciating the delicate curve as he ran his tongue slowly along the inner dainty arch, savoring, nipping, watching her heated responses, feeling her shiver of arousal.

Lilly moaned and arched upwards. Her passionate mouth was open, her face flushed, eyes dilated, almost black. In her sexual need, she was as beautiful as he had ever seen her. Laid out before him, her fiery hair spread around her. So damned beautiful. More so, because her desire was for him--his touch, his mouth, his hands. He moved over her to sip at her lips, and he removed her camisole, the last boundary separating them. He needed to see all of her, stroke and caress every velvety inch--now, this minute. The sight of Lilly, her skin rose-tinted, every nuance revealed, took Slade's breath away. She was even lovelier than he had envisioned.

Her breasts were not overly large, but gently rounded, with dusky nipples, peaked and firm, seeming to beg for his attention. Unable to resist, he lowered his head and captured one rosy bud with his mouth, circled it with his tongue, tugged, drawing it deeper. She tasted of clean, pure rain, her texture--one of passionate need. He felt her arch, heard her gasp, then a moan voiced from deep within...