The Men of Pride County: The Pretender by Rosalyn West

prowess. He wanted to hold her tight and love her all over again, in case there was some small delight he might have missed during their first humbling encounter.
    Lord, she was a treasure, a heaven-sent, earthy dream.
    And he could enjoy her every night for the rest of his life if he made her his bride.
    But even as that notion staggered him with awesome potential, the remaining truth hit and hit squarely.
    He could have her only if he relinquished the duty that had brought him to her door.
    Garnet watched the frown lines gather on Deacon’s brow, and because of her inexperience, guessed that the event that had shaken her spiritual foundation had somehow disappointed him. At a loss, she shyly traced her fingertips along the hard contour of his upper arm and waited for him to reveal the source of his displeasure. Instead, he captured her wandering hand and held it curled within his own above the relentless thunder of his heartbeats.
    “Have I done something wrong?” she ventured with a wavering bravery.
    He shook his head, then glanced at her. His gaze was convincingly tender. “No. You’ve done everything right.”
    Then she saw the truth. It was regret coloring his mood.
    “I know you have to leave. It’s all right. I understand.”
    He smiled somewhat wryly at her heroic claim. “No, you don’t, angel. You don’t understand anything about it at all. Or about me.”
    “I know that you are courageous and kind.” His soft snort of disagreement interrupted but did end her statement. She concluded with a quiet dignity. “And I know I’m not the type of woman your family would approve of, either.”
    His gaze jumped to hers, all stark misery. “This isn’t about you, Garnet. It’s me.”
    Of course. He didn’t care for her. That was it. She lowered her eyes and took a stabilizing breath. She would pretend that knowledge didn’t devastate her.
    His kisses started at her brow and worked their way down to her pursed lips. Once there, she allowed him to convince her that she was wrong in that belief, too. When he lifted away at last, she regarded him through a teary, adoring gaze that proved a killing stroke to his conscience.
    How could he intentionally shatter the guileless illusions held in those lovely dark eyes? She saw him as both saint and savior, and he found he wanted to be those things for her. He’d surrendered up every good thing in his life in the name of duty, in the cause of loyalty to the land, and what had it gotten him? A lifetime of loneliness, a future void of happiness. Endless servitude to someone else’s ideals. He’d been taught all his life that that was the best he could strivefor, but in these past few days, with this honest, endearing young woman, those rigid tenets had been proven false.
    Here was his ideal, a woman who demanded nothing and made him want to surrender all. A connection so basic, so pure, it surpassed anything he’d known and everything he could have hoped for. In the past hours, he’d seen another future for himself, one stripped of regiment and lies, one borne of simple passions and no regrets.
    This was what he wanted, this woman, this feeling of satisfaction, this sense of contentment. What else could possibly be waiting outside this valley to equal what he’d discovered about himself in Garnet’s reflective gaze?
    He wanted to be what she saw in him.
    Her mouth opened sweetly beneath his, accepting him without reservation. A clever girl, she’d figured out what to do with her hands and used them to coax him to new heights of urgency. Her shyness gave way to a healthy curiosity about all things involved in what made man and woman different. Her discoveries were his delights, delights shared equally and abundantly as he moved above her, inside her, to the brink of paradise and beyond. Delights shared quietly as they lay curled together afterward in exhausted bliss.
    About then Boone began to whine, his whip tail thumping the floorboards.
    “I think somebody