Hell on Wheels: A Loveswept Classic Romance by Karen Leabo Page A

after the first thirty seconds. But you took it all with perfect grace, and you gave as good as you got.”
    “Oh, them.” She waved her hand dismissively. “They don’t bother me.” Her voice trembled slightly—whether from emotion, the cold, or the fact that Roan was standing far too close to her, he could only guess.
    “I think they did bother you. But we’ll show ’em,Vic. We’ll be in plenty of time for the next tornado. We’ll get there hours ahead of anyone else, even if we have to get up at six in the morning to do it.”
    “Vic?” she repeated, ignoring the rest of his pep talk.
    “Well, you didn’t like Vicky.”
    “And I don’t like—” He cut her off with a kiss. He’d meant only to peck her on the lips to halt her argument, but somehow his plan didn’t take shape quite like that. Before he knew what was happening, his mouth was pressed against hers as he savored the sweet taste of her. He grasped her shoulders, pulling her against him until he could feel the gentle push of her small, rounded breasts against his chest. He even fancied he could feel the dark heat of her womanliness radiating outward, encompassing him, pulling him deeper and deeper.
    She didn’t resist when he probed her mouth with his tongue, and she even met his forays with tentative flicks of her own tongue. She might as well have doused him with gasoline and thrown a match at him. No subtle act of acceptance had ever turned him on so quickly, so thoroughly, so … uncontrollably.
    “Victoria,” he murmured against her lips. He’d always had trouble with her name, but now it resounded like poetry in his mind, beautiful and dignified and secretly hot, like the woman herself.
    He kissed her ear, her neck, her throat. She clutched his shoulders in a painfully tight grasp, but she didn’t push him away. Carried by the heat of the moment, he undid two buttons on her blouse and dipped his tonguebetween her breasts. Her skin smelled like delicate wildflowers, sweet and clean and exotic all at the same time.
    She insinuated her thigh against his arousal, exerting a gentle, excruciating, and quite deliberate pressure. Overcome, he plunged his hands inside her blouse and covered her breasts, kneading them beneath her lacy bra.
    “Uh, Roan …” She could barely utter the words, she was breathing so hard.
    God help him, he wanted her so badly, he could have taken her right there in the dark parking lot.
    “Please …”
    That single word, spoken with so much desperation, brought him back to his senses. This was crazy! Though it almost caused him physical pain, he slowly pulled away. Moonlight revealed the play of emotions on her face—desire, confusion, dismay.
    She clutched the front of her gaping blouse, glancing guiltily over his shoulder. “Someone could see us.”
    “Then let’s go somewhere more private.”
    “No!” There was a definite edge of panic in her voice. “Look, Roan, I promise not to whine about our bad luck anymore if you promise not to … comfort me.”
    “Comfort you?” he repeated. “If you think I had comfort on my mind just now, you must not have much experience with men and their … hormones.”
    His were still raging.
    She bristled at that. “I have as much experience as I need, thank you. Don’t feel obligated to educate me. Now, can we please get in the car?”
    He released her. He would let her think she’d won this round—for a minute or two anyway. However, as soon as they were in the van, seat belts dutifully buckled, he asked, “Are you a virgin?”
    She made an exasperated noise. “Roan, please, I don’t want to talk about this. You shouldn’t have kissed me.”
    “And you shouldn’t have kissed me back.”
    That silenced her for a moment. “Point well taken.” She said nothing for a long while, and he didn’t pursue it. When she spoke again, she took him by surprise. “I’m thirty years old. Of course I’m not a virgin.”
    He chuckled, and the tension between