Innocent Fire Read Free Page A

care, knowing he will guard you with his life. You have nothing to fear, for he is a captain of the Texas Rangers. He was born in this country, and thus knows the land and its inhabitants well. I await with great anticipation your arrival.
    All my love, your betrothed,
    John Barrington.
    Miranda looked up. “When do we leave?” she asked.
    “First thing in the morning, dear,” her aunt said kindly. “At the crack of dawn, I’m afraid.”

Chapter 2
    Derek Bragg wanted a woman.
    He surveyed the boisterous, trail-worn patrons of the saloon, and the barmaids. What had happened to that lovely quadroon, Sherisse? Had she been sold? It was going to be a godawful long trip to San Antonio, over two weeks with two women and a wagon—two women he could not touch. Christ! If John wasn’t his best friend and his blood brother, he would never have agreed to this insanity. What in hell had gotten into John? Marrying some English lady, one who had been raised in a convent, for crissakes! It was going to be a bitch of a trip, he felt it in every bone. John had obviously lost his mind, no matter how pretty he thought this woman was.
    Bragg sighed and downed the sweet bourbon. He had made the trip in just over six days, but he had been traveling alone, not pushing it either. Hell, he could do it just as fast on foot if he had to, like any Apache worth his salt. He could make seventy-five miles a day on foot, if pushed. Of course, he wasn’t Apache, he was white—in his mind. He had been called “breed” numerous times—because his mother was a squaw—and he had killed almost every man who had dared to label him half-breed.
    Bragg leaned against the bar, a tall, broad man rippling with muscle and clad from head to foot in buckskins. His frame came from his father, a mountain man, one of theoriginal trailblazers through Texas, and so did his coloring. Golden was the only way to describe him. His hair was six different shades of gold, his skin was a golden bronze, and even his eyes were gold—glinting topaz. Only his brows and lashes and body hair were darker, not black, but brownish—a deep, dark shade of gold.
    Bragg saw Sherisse and smiled. She was coming downstairs, meaning that she had been with a customer, but her face lit up with a real smile when she saw him. She swayed over, hips swinging, and he threw his arm around her waist, pressing her close to him.
    “Sherisse,” Bragg murmured, “I was hoping you were still here.” He smiled at her, heated already, remembering very well her soft, voluptuous body, a body a man could get lost in for hours and hours.
    “Derek! When did you arrive? How long are you here for?” She regarded him with blue eyes, her long chestnut hair flowing around her peach-tinted face. She looked whiter than some whites, he had thought on more than one occasion.
    “Let’s talk later,” he said, his lips brushing hers. He ran his hands down her back, caught her buttocks, and pressed her against his ready manhood. She opened her mouth and accepted his tongue eagerly.
    “Do you want me for the whole night?” Sherisse asked coyly after the long, long kiss had ended.
    “I sure as hell do, but dammit, I’m hitting the trail tomorrow. Oh, what the hell!” he decided. “There won’t be any trouble till we hit the Sabine. All right.”
    An expression of pure pleasure crossed her face.
    “You like that, huh?” Bragg laughed huskily, pulling her against him again.
    “Very much,” she breathed. “I don’t have to pretend with you, you know.”
    He chuckled and let his hand slide up her waist, cupping a full breast. “We’ll talk later.” He proceeded to half pull her upstairs to a room, where he promptly stripped her, ripping off her skirt in his eagerness.
    He was up well before sunrise, and so was Pete Welsh, the man he had hired to drive the wagon that would carrythe women and their luggage. They checked and packed up their supplies, and finally Bragg left Welsh hitching up the team. He