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MIDNIGHT
RIDER is one of my favorites, a story set in early California, one of
the country's most romantic eras. The idea came from a painting that
hangs above my sofa, an incredible 4 x 5 foot portrait of a dark-eyed,
black-haired outlaw with a face any woman would love. Ramon de la
Guerra is dark and dangerous, the epitome of the tall Spanish don. Carly McConnell, a fiery little Irish girl from the Pennsylvania mine
patch, is his nemesis--and what a battle they wage!
Excerpt:
Unconsciously, Carly took a step away. "This is Del Robles land.
You're trespassing."
Ramon strode
toward her, his expression dark and unreadable.
"Ah, querida...surely
you would not begrudge a man a visit to the place that was once his
home." He didn't stop till he reached her, his tall hard body towering
over her small frame.
"I-I'm not
dressed. The least you can do is turn around so that I may put on my
clothes."
A corner of
his mouth inched up. "Why would I wish to do that?"
"Certainly
not because you are a gentleman."
He laughed at
that, a bitter sardonic sound.
"No,
certainly not because of that." Her heart was throbbing, pounding
against her ribs. Still she didn't glance away.
"I
think that you should leave."
He
laughed again, a little less harshly. "I had forgotten what a tiger
you can be when you are angry."
"And I had
forgotten how infuriating you can be." She reached for her riding
habit, folded neatly and resting atop a rock. Ramon reached for it
too, pulled it from her trembling fingers.
"You
will not need clothes...at least not yet." Heat rolled through her.
Dear God. She looked into those hot dark eyes, saw the hunger he made
no attempt to disguise. God in heaven, even after all he had done, she
still wanted him. Perhaps in that moment, more than ever before. He
must have read her thoughts for he caught her arm and dragged her hard
against him. His mouth curved faintly.
"So...you
feel it, too. I had wondered..."
"Let me go,
Ramon." He only shook his head.
"No,
querida. I do not think so...not this time."
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