Cherished by Jill Gregory

he managed to mount
she didn’t know, but at last, with a small salute to her, he rode
out of the clearing. He didn’t bother to glance at John Breen,
waiting patiently with his thumbs hooked in his pockets. When Gil’s
slumped figure disappeared down the craggy slope, she let out a
long breath.
    Sunshine poured down. The day was still,
beautiful, filled with fragile beauty. And ripe with danger.
Juliana felt it all around her, throbbing beneath the surface. She
faced John Breen in the clearing with no trace of the apprehension
she was feeling showing on her face.
    “Do you still need those men for protection?”
she inquired softly, but there were daggers in her eyes. She
smoothed a wayward curl from her face and met his stare with icy
hauteur. “I’ve no gun, Mr. Breen, and I’m sure if we came to blows,
you could defeat me.”
    His jaw clenched. Dark rage suffused his
face, and for a moment she feared he would indeed strike her, but
then the blackness faded from his expression as quickly as it had
come, and instead he waved an arm and ordered Mueller and his
companions to leave.
    “You sure are something,” he said when they
were completely alone in the clearing. The gurgling of the creek
sounded loud to Juliana’s ears. “You’ve got more spunk than ten
other women put together. When I saw you with Keedy, I wanted to
blow that boy’s head off.”
    “Mr. Breen, let me make one thing clear.”
    “No.” He grasped her by the arms and jerked
her forward so suddenly that her hat fell off. “Let me make
something clear, Juliana. It’s John—not Mr. Breen. It’s going to
sound mighty silly for a married woman to call her husband
mister.”
    A hawk wheeled overhead, its shrill cry
piercing the air in a forlorn call. Juliana envied that hawk its
freedom. It could soar away, far, far into the distant treetops on
the farthest peaks. She stared at John Breen, wishing at that
moment that she was a hawk, or even an ordinary wren or a sparrow.
Anything that could spread wings and leave this man and this
isolated place behind.
    She chose her words carefully, wary of the
intensity she saw glinting in his eyes. Her hair tumbled loose
about her small face, and she saw his gaze upon it. His glance
shifted to her mouth, staring at its softness. She made her voice
as hard and crisp as she could. “If this is a proposal, Mr. Breen,
I thank you. However, I must decline your most flattering offer—and
request that you escort me back to the ranch house at once.”
    “Decline? Oh, no. You’re speaking out of
haste, honey, and that’s not good for either of us. You’re a bit
more skittish than I expected, Juliana,” he went on with a short
laugh. “I’m not doing this the way I planned—but seeing you with
that no-good cowboy made me lose my head. I can’t bear it for
another man to look at you, talk to you. This was going to be a
slow courtship, but I’m not as good at waiting for things as I used
to be. I’ve gotten used to getting what I want—and there’s no doubt
about it, honey, I want you.”
    His fingers tightened around her arms. He
drew her closer, and smiled down into her outraged face. “Maybe
you’re a mite stubborn, Juliana, but I’m willing to overlook it.
You’re beautiful, and feisty as hell, and I’m going to have the
time of my life taming you.” As she started to struggle frantically
against his restraining embrace, Breen pinned her arms behind her,
grinning. “I know females. You like to put on airs, and act as if
you couldn’t care less about a man, but what you really want is to
be chased, caught, and conquered. Well, I’ve caught you—now comes
the conquering part. You know as well as I do that deep down, this
is what you’ve been wanting me to do,” he murmured, and brought his
lips down on hers in a bruising, greedy kiss that forced her head
back and robbed her of all her breath.
    Juliana tried to twist her head away, but he
held her fast, and his mouth covered hers. Sickening