The Outlaws: Rafe Read Free Page B

remiss in my duty if I sent you two young people off without benefit of marriage.   I know how impetuous youngsters can be these days."   He turned to Rafe.   "Do you have the ring?"
    "It's...right here," Rafe said, shocking Angela.   With shaking fingers he removed his mother's wedding ring from his vest pocket.   He had taken it when he and his brothers had divided money and keepsakes before they had ridden away from the farm with the posse hard on their heels.   Angela stared at the gold band he had retrieved from his pocket as if it were a snake about to bite her.
    "Excellent," Reverend Conrad said.   "Having a wedding ring on your person should allay any lingering doubts about your innocence," he contended, directing his remarks at those still skeptical members of the lynching party.
    "Get on with it, Reverend," someone in the crowded tent called out.
    Rafe's muttered a coarse obscenity.
    Angela heard and shared the sentiment.   What was she getting herself into?   Abruptly she realized the sacrifice was too great and opened her mouth to stop this mockery.
    Something in her demeanor must have tipped Rafe off for he gripped her arm and hissed, "Don't.   You started this, you owe it to me to see it through."
    Angela stared at him and shook her head.   "I can't."
    His grip tightened and his silver eyes glittered.   "You can and you will.   I don't know what you intended when you intervened, but the die is cast.   You can't recant now."
    She sensed his desperation and knew that it matched her own.   Never in her wildest dreams did she think her rash act would end like this.   But Rafe Gentry was right.   He had come to her defense once, she could do no less than return the favor.   There were ways to end a marriage, after all.   Stiffening her spine, she nodded to the Reverend, giving him permission to begin.
    Sister Grace thrummed softly on the piano and the Reverend opened the Good Book.   His voice was a blur of words as Rafe's thoughts raced.   He wondered how long it would take to shake the dirt of Ordway from his boots and leave Sister Angela behind in the dust.   Though this farcical marriage had saved his life, he had no intention on honoring it.   Sister Angela's reasons for lying to save his life were none of his business.   He had his own agenda, his own needs, and they didn't include a wife.
    He must have responded in the right place for the next thing he knew the Reverend was prodding him to place the ring on Angela's finger.
    Focused once again, he reached for Angela's left hand and shoved the wedding band into place.   It fit perfectly.
    "I now pronounce you husband and wife.   You may kiss the bride."
    Rafe stared at Angela's lips.   They were full, ripe and slightly moist, as if she had just wet them with her tongue.   He could hear the crowd in the background, clamoring for the kiss.   His gaze shifted upward, to her eyes, stunned to see them wide and slightly unfocused.   He cupped her chin.   She blinked.   Then he slipped his hand to her nape, beneath the silken halo of hair.
      With slow, steady pressure he brought her forward to meet his lips.
    He had meant the kiss to be a brief touching of lips, nothing as dramatic as what really happened.   Her lips were soft, her breath sweetly scented.   He slanted his mouth over hers and was lost in sensations totally foreign to Rafe Gentry, a man who loved well and loved often without engaging emotions.
    The scent of her hair and skin were intoxicating.   Subtle yet wildly arousing.   He deepened the kiss, nudging her mouth open with his tongue.   Her tentative, somewhat breathless response emboldened him and he thrust his tongue past her teeth to explore the delicate inside of her mouth.   He sensed her shock, her outrage, but some perverse devil inside him drove him to kiss her until he heard the Reverend clear his throat.   Only then did he become aware of the hoots and cheers reverberating through the tent.
    Abruptly he