Legend (Legend, Colorado 1)

The sun was going down, and it was growing cold, making Kady shiver in her corset and drawers. As she went to stir up the fire, the man began to thrash about and mumble something. Or at least he tried to say something, but his throat was too damaged to make much noise.

As Kady leaned over him, she ran her hand over his forehead. “It’s all right,” she said softly. “I’m here, and you’re safe. No one is going to hurt you any more.”

She couldn’t imagine how she could reassure him when the truth was she was quite frightened herself. What if those men who had been trying to hang him returned? What if they were the good guys and this man was a murderer and that was the reason they had been about to hang him? Maybe he’d done something really truly horrible to cause men to try to lynch him without a trial.

But as she stroked the blond man’s forehead, he began to shiver, and even though she tucked the blanket tighter around him, he still trembled. So she did the only other thing she knew to do: she lay down beside him.

Immediately, his strong arms encircled her, drawing her to him, as he threw one big leg over her much smaller ones. At first Kady started to protest, but then fatigue overtook her. She’d been awake for nearly twenty-four hours now. Even so, out of habit she started to push the man away because she didn’t like to sleep close to anyone. On the rare occasions when Gregory spent the night, they each kept to opposite sides of the bed. Kady always said things like, “If I rolled onto you in the night, I’d crush you.” But with this man there was no threat of crushing any part of him. In fact, Kady thought maybe he could even sleep comfortably under the horse.

At that thought she giggled, and the man, his face and warm breath near hers, smiled in his sleep. He said something, but she wasn’t sure what the word was. However, it sounded like “Angel.”

Whatever the word was, Kady rested her head against the muscle of his arm and went to sleep.

She awoke slowly to someone kissing her softly on the lips, and not yet fully awake, she smiled and kissed him back. His hand was running up her thigh, over her waist, and onto her breast. Sleepily, Kady moved her leg so his thigh was between hers; then she moved forward to get closer to him. His kisses were so very nice, not urgent or frantic as though he had to do this quickly so he could get to work, but as though he had all the time in the world.

His lips moved to her neck, and as she arched against him, he put his face into her breasts, which were pushed high above the corset. “Oh, yes,” she murmured, trying to get closer to him.

It was a noise from the horse that made her open her eyes for a moment, then close them. In the next second she opened them with a jolt. This most certainly wasn’t her bedroom, and those trees with the snow-covered mountains in the background certainly weren’t part of the Virginia landscape.

And if this wasn’t her bedroom and this wasn’t Virginia, then it was quite likely that the man whose face was buried between her breasts was not Gregory.

Arching her back in an attempt to pull away from him, she pushed at his shoulders, but his face was glued to her breasts—which for some reason were nearly fully exposed and—

Memory came flooding back to her. “Get your hands off of me!” she half shouted to the top of the man’s blond head.

Instantly, he stopped kissing, but he took his time before lifting his head to look at her. What Kady saw was a man with the most innocent eyes she’d ever seen. He’s a choirboy, she thought. A huge, gorgeous choirboy, as innocent as fresh asparagus tips. But, oh, so deadly, she reminded herself as she remembered his lips on her skin.

“You are beautiful,” he said, then winced at the pain in his throat.

Kady was glad that his wince kept him from seeing her look of shock, for his voice was the same rich, deep timbre she’d heard last night from her Arabian prince. No two men could look less alike, but they certainly did sound alike.

“Would you mind releasing me?” she said, pushing at his shoulders since his hands were still on her body.

“Yes,” he gasped out. “My apologies. I thought you were . . .” He swallowed painfully. “I thought you were my every dream come true.” At that he gave her a little one-sided smile that almost made her slide back into his arms.

But she controlled herself and rolled away from him, then stood, hands on hips and looked down at him. But his look made her glance down at herself and become very aware of her dishabille. If a man had grown up surrounded by women who wore only long granny dresses, then suddenly saw a woman wearing a bikini, he’d probably wear the same expression as this man. By late-twentieth-century standards Kady was fully dressed, except maybe for her breasts

, which were overflowing the top of the corset. But even that wouldn’t have been shocking to a modern man.

Now, why did I think that? she wondered. Why did I think this is not a “modern” man?

Quickly, she grabbed the petticoats and slipped them on, then the heavy satin bodice and the skirt, all while he watched her with unblinking eyes. To her chagrin, the beautiful skirt was dirty in places, and there was even a tear down one side from when she’d jumped between the boulders.

When she was fully covered, the man was still looking up at her with wonder in his eyes, and Kady knew she’d never seen a man as appealing as this one. And in that moment she knew she had to get home. Home to safety—and to Gregory.

Once she was dressed, she straightened her shoulders and looked down at him, trying to look as stern and businesslike as possible. “Now that I have seen that you are all right, I shall leave you,” she said, then turned on her heel and started back toward the rocks.

All she had to do was find the rock with the petroglyphs and go back through them to her apartment. Now that she had done what she assumed she was supposed to do and saved this man’s life, she was sure she could return.

She had walked only a few yards when the man caught her by the arm; she hadn’t heard him come up behind her.

“I can’t let you go,” he said. “Who will take care of you?”

“I will take care of myself. Would you please release me?”

He put his hand to his throat, a frown on his brow as he tried to speak.

“You should have a doctor look at your throat,” she said, starting to step around him.