In The Beginning by Gail Daley (top 100 books of all time checklist .TXT) 📕

"It’s all right," he soothed, rubbing her back. "He's gone. I took care of it, okay?"

"I'm sorry to be such a baby," she gasped out. "I never saw men fight before—and—"

"No reason you should have." He tilted up her chin and kissed the tip of nose. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her. "Here, wipe or blow. I think we could both use a brandy."

Obediently, she blew her nose and wiped her eyes. "I don't like brandy," she objected, but she took the glass he handed her with shaking hands.

Alec sat back down on the bed beside her, settling them both back comfortably against the carved headboard. "Don't argue with me, woman. Drink it."

Her teeth chattered against the glass and the liquor left a fiery trail down her throat, but she could feel her nerves settling as the brandy took its effect.

"Feel better?" he inquired.

When she nodded, he said, "Good. Why were you dumb enough to go off by yourself when you knew Johnson was around?"

Stealing a look up at his face, Bethany couldn't for the life of her tell if he was angry. She sighed. Gran always said it was best to get over heavy ground as lightly as possible.

"I thought he had left," she said honestly. "It never occurred to me he would do anything physical. I mean, it's not as if he wanted to marry me because he loves me. The Johnsons just want the ranch and the mine. I always thought any of us would do for that!"

She stopped because Alec squeezed her against his chest, hard. "Idiot woman," he said, his voice muffled by her hair. "Johnson didn't just want the ranch and the mine. I saw the way he looked at you tonight, even if you were too dumb to notice. He wanted you too."

Bethany shook her head. "I don't think so; he just doesn’t like being told no."

Alec made a rude noise. "For a smart woman, you aren't great at reading men. From now on, you don't go off by yourself when Johnson is around, hear me?"

"I hear." She touched the bruise on his cheekbone, which was now swelling nicely. "Does it hurt much?"

He smiled down at her, touching the matching bruise on her face. "Yeah, it hurts. Bastard got in a few good punches. I bet yours does too."

She caught his hand, looking in dismay at his hands. "Your hands too!"

"I shouldn't have hit him in the face," he admitted. "Want to kiss it and make it better?"

She lightly kissed his broken knuckles and rose on her knees and brushed her mouth across his cheek, afraid she would hurt him.

Alec turned his head and caught her mouth fiercely with his own. Her lips parted, heat finally creeping into her chilled body. When his hand slipped into the bodice of her dress to find her breast, she freed her mouth long enough to say, "Gran made this wedding dress and she wants it passed down. You must help me out of it."

"Turn around," he said, resigned. The small stroking movements of his fingers as he worked on the tiny hooks and eyes holding the gown together insensibly blended into a soothing sensual haze. When Alec had undone the last hook, and slid the dress off her shoulders, she leaned back against him, enjoying the trail of his mouth on her neck. His hands slid around to cup her breasts, his thumbs finding the hard peaks.

"Better stand up so I can get the rest of this off," he said, and obediently she stood up so he could push the dress down over the petticoats.

"Good Lord," he exclaimed, struggling through the ties at her waist. "How many of these things are there?"

Bethany laughed. "Seven. Women wear them under fancy dress to make it drape better."

The petticoats slid into a pile at her feet. Bethany turned and put her arms around his neck and kissed him. "Now that you've undressed me, why don't you let me return the favor?" she whispered.

He pulled her to him, smothering her mouth in a long kiss. "That sounds like a wonderful idea," he said hoarsely.

The next few hours were a revelation to Bethany. Alec let her undress him, responding to her touch with masculine groans of enjoyment. His response made her feel immensely powerful, all woman. His response fed hers so that when the climax finally came, her body splintered in pleasure so immense it was almost pain.

She fell asleep almost at once, her cheek pillowed on his bare shoulder and her arm flung across his stomach.

Alec's thoughts kept him awake and his hand absently stroked her arm. Bethany did this to him, made him feel this way. And she belonged to him. He had taken a gamble on Michael St. Vyr’s offer and it had paid off. His arm tightened involuntarily around Bethany. Somewhere in his mind, he realized the ranch had become of secondary importance. Losing the ranch would hurt, but losing Bethany was unthinkable.

No Glass Slippers

SAMUEL DUMPED EMORY on his bed in the suite Ira had rented. He was pulling off his brother’s boots when his father spoke from the doorway.

"Is he alive?"

"Yes," Samuel answered curtly. He set the boots beside the bed and threw a light blanket over his brother.

"Let’s talk a minute," Ira said, gesturing to the sitting room.

Suspiciously, Samuel watched his father pour whiskey into two glasses. When he was offered one Samuel shook his head. "No thanks."

Ira sat down in a chair and made a gesture for Samuel to do the same. Samuel did so, his eyes wary.

"I saw you and St. Vyr’s daughter out in the garden tonight. How come you didn’t tell me we didn’t need the older girl anymore?" he asked.

His son gave him a straight look. "Because it’s none of your business what goes on between Jeanne and me."

"None of my business!" his father exclaimed. "Of course, it’s my