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ExcerptEXCERPT
Megan froze at the ominous figure emerging from behind the tree. “Is this what you’re looking for?” The deep resonate voice was hauntingly low and utterly menacing. The owner of that intimidating voice held her dress up in his right hand, his left thumb hooked over his double holster, strapped low on his waist and tied-down the way gunslingers wore their belts. His fingers strummed casually over his left pistol, a long dagger sheathed by its side. She gaped, and as she studied the huge bear of a man, transcendent fear rose in her. It gripped her heart so fast, she thought she was going to die where she stood. At around what must be six-nine, he towered over her four-eleven frame, and even seemed to dwarf the hundred-year-old elm tree he stood beside. A wide-brimmed charcoal grey hat sat low on his forehead, completely shading his eyes. Dark wavy hair hung over the collar of his buckskin-fringed jacket. His sun-faded black shirt with the buttons undone midway revealed hard, bronzed flesh underneath and a spattering of dark curls across an impressively wide chest. Well-worn buckskins clung to his long, massive thighs and legged moccasins that reached his knees, where a hunting knife was strapped to both sides of each calf. The huge trespasser looked every bit as dangerous as he sounded. Quickly, she weighed her options, concluded there were none. She drew in a deep breath. Her first thought was the children. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be her last. She needed to think quickly if they were to survive. She eyed him defiantly, squaring her shoulders for the forthcoming battle. Her death, if it came to that, would not be that of a coward. She dropped her arms to her side, unconcerned the wet homespun shift now molded her body, transparent thanks to the river water dribbling from her soaked hair. A grin curled the corner of his lips, as if he derived enjoyment from unnerving her. She glared at him as her heart thundered. “Seems I am in possession of a calico, and you have need of one.” She willed herself not to move, run, or show fear, holding her ground with great difficulty. Despite the shadow concealing his eyes, the heat of his scrutiny was apparent. She could see the outline of his cock twitching beneath his buckskins. She wanted to scream bloody murder and bring about every man in the territory, gun in hand to shoot the brazen heathen. It was impossible. If she screamed, no one was around for miles to hear. Only Shelby and Emma, sound asleep in the back of the wagon, would come to her aid. What could two small children do but only add to the harrowing quandary? “Sir, I’m much obliged you found my dress.” Her tense-free tone came as quite a shock considering her limbs were unsteady. Mindful charitable sorts offered, not pilfered, she held out her hand. Bold. Foolish. It was a risk worth taking. “Oh, no, missy, it ain’t gonna be that easy,” he replied in a tone hinged with a self-indulged diversion, a warning of sorts. Her eyes widened as he took a predatory step closer, lofty and menacing. She yanked her hand back instantly. Her wildly beating heart plummeted to her stomach. A chill of terror grated over her body. She gaped up into the dark shadow concealing his face and could only blink at the blatant insinuation. “It’s gonna cost you.” He waved the dress in his hand and narrowed the gap in two broad strides. “Sir, I have no money with me,” she responded in an unwavering tone, staggering backward. She feigned an ease she did not feel as her innards quivered by the nearness of such a powerful body. “If you follow me…” His deep chuckle caused her to falter for a brief moment. “…follow me home, I’ll pay. Name your price.” She didn’t have any money, even at home. Doc and his assistant, Caleb Walker, were waiting for her. They would pay, or better yet, shoot him on sight. Silently, she prayed it would be the latter.
* * * *
Devin Spawn studied her up close, her hazel brown eyes and long, sweeping lashes. Her soaked hair, he imagined when dry, would be the color of fiery gold. Her straight nose, with a few freckles across the bridge and high cheeks bones, were delicately carved. She had a very appealing mouth, a delightfully sinful mouth with full, pink lips. With a quick intake of breath, he visualized those perfectly lined lips on his and other places as well. His cock jerked in response. An oval face framed exquisite features, her only flaws were the shadows under her eyes, which he suspected were from the daylight fading fast behind the dense canopy of trees. And with a voice so soft and melodious, it sounded as if she were singing rather than speaking. It suited her perfectly, as did the dimples sparking near the corners of her lips. This little lady wasn’t pretty. Rather, she was a dream come alive. Downright the most beautiful lassie he ever laid eyes on, and that was saying a lot. He stood close enough to witness the fear in her eyes, despite the notable calm in her tone. She was definitely afraid of him, and with good reason. If she knew who he was, she would have turned tail long ago. Strangely, he wondered why she hadn’t made a run thus far. This woman definitely intrigued him. “Little miss, I don’t want your money.” A sharp gasp escaped her gaped mouth, which she abruptly clinched. Her eyes darted frantically around, as if looking for an escape. “If you want my horse, take it and ride on out,” she urged, her voice quavering slightly. He didn’t answer right away. Instead, his steady gaze bore into her. Her entire body trembled with fright—of that, he was certain. Nevertheless, she stood, facing him with her arms by her sides. Chin held high. She was not making a move to cover herself. She no doubt knew full well he could see right through the thin wet garment that clung to her every curve. The woman had balls of stone, which was more than he could say about most men he came across. His were hard as stone and ready to crack any second. “If that ol’ mare was worth more than half a red cent, I would’ve taken it long ago.” “I have nothing else of value.” His gaze traveled over her trim figure, the outline of her breast clearly visible, the taut nipples straining against the soaked fabric, calling out to him. Impulsively, he licked his lower lip as his sights rested on the dark wet hair shielding her mound. His cock twitched for freedom, aching for the glory between those thighs. He fought to hold onto the scrap of control that remained. It had been too damn long. He silently cursed himself for not stopping at the nearest brothel along the way. The way he felt now, he could come just by staring. Shit, six months without a woman could do that to a man. “From where I stand, you got plenty assets.” “I…I…” “I mean you no harm. If I wanted to molest or kill you, I would have done so by now.” He could see her fear of imminent ravishment in her eyes. “Wha—what then?” She looked fairly relieved. Her relief was short-lived. “A kiss.” She watched as he tossed aside her dress. The calico with the pretty green floral pattern landed near the tree stump. With his hands on the butt of each six-shooter, he waited patiently. He felt his rock-hard cock twitch as he imagined what they could be doing right now. How her small body would writhe beneath him as he held her slender hips and buried his cock between those slender thighs. Damn it! Why weren’t they anywhere else but Tejas? He’d have to settle for a meager kiss. That was, if she was willing. Thanks to the damned teachings on the proper treatment of the dainty gender ingrained in his subconscious by his two spinster aunts, if this dandelion said no, then by golly, it had to be no. Shit! He stood firm, looming out of the dark brush like an indomitable sequoia, ensuring she had no doubt that if he wanted, he could easily change his mind and kill her on the spot, though he never would. Leaving her no choice but to eventually accept. The tense silence lengthened. “One kiss?” Her question was a breathy, nervous utterance. “Yes.” Though her consent came as clear victory on his part, his voice remained without inflection. “And you’ll leave us, me alone.” She bit her lip quickly. “Just drifting, I’ll be on my way…after.” He held his grin at bay. This was not going to be his first kiss. He was no green boy. Hell, he was doing more than kissing grown women at a tender age, so why the sudden excitement and anticipation of a simple kiss from half a sliver of a young lady a step outside of puberty? Judging from the size of her apple-sized breasts, impossibly tiny waist, slight roundness of what he didn’t even want to refer to as hips, and the fresh innocence in her hazel eyes, he figured she couldn’t be well into her teens yet. If only she were a little older… But then, a gal horny enough to stick her fingers up her twat out in the open had to know the ins and outs of passion. Despite her age, she'd behaved like no virgin during her bath in the river. “I have your word as a gentleman. One kiss and you’ll leave?” “Hell, yes, you have my word as a gentleman,” he said firmly and let out a slight chuckle. He’d been called plenty of things in his life, but a gentleman was never one of them. Before she could utter another word, he tossed his hat in the vicinity of her dress and closed the short gap between them. He encircled her waist, amazed his long fingers overlapped. He lifted her. She weighed nothing at all. “What are you doing?” she shrieked as her feet left the ground. Her hands barely curled over his forearms as she grabbed onto him. She was a tiny thing. He walked toward several boulders a few feet away, holding her at arms’ length. He stood her on the closest boulder, keeping his hands on her waist until she steadied herself. Calmly, he explained, “So I don’t strain my neck bending down so far.” Barely reaching mid-chest when firmly planted on the ground, the added height of the boulder brought her to within a few inches of his towering height. She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply as if to ease her nerves. The subtle move caused her breasts to rise and fall in a beguiling way that caught his appreciative attention. He cleared his parched throat and wondered how he was going to get though this in one piece. “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you,” he offered, more as a reminder to himself. REVIEWS for Devil's Pact5 Angels, Fallen Angel Recommended Read: "Devil’s Pact is the kind of book for people like me who enjoy reading about an overly aggressive testosterone filled man in love. Devin is not a gentleman; he’s crude, kind of mean but the same passion he uses when killing is exactly what he brings to the bedroom. Samantha Cruise’s historical feast was more than just a well developed story with guns, danger, mayhem and delicious wickedness. Devil’s Pact was a story that sucked me into the emotional upheaval of the characters. I was right there during the orgasmic interludes that left me sweating and anxious for more. I was with them as they attempted with their bodies to say what each found so hard to say with words. I can’t say enough how much I actually loved this book, all 497 pages of it. A story that had me on the hook from the first encounter with Meg to the final culmination when finally a decision was made on if Devin and Megan could make it, if their passion was more than rabid frenzy lust but something life altering, something meant to be forever. Caleb, the third in the ménage, was just icing on a cake already flowing with goodies, but he wasn’t Devin: a man readers will go away loving or detesting. That is why I think Ms. Cruise did a great job no matter the impression you get, strong love or hate for some of her characters. She did something special by seducing you into the story to feel anything at all." —Rachelle, Fallen Angel Reviews "Devin Spawn is an outlaw. Given away at birth by his father, Devin travels to his father’s ranch to find out why. When he gets close, he comes across a tiny, beautiful woman bathing in the river. Since he has the devil inside of him, Devin does the one thing that comes natural to him—he seduces and makes her his own. There is one thing Devin doesn’t know. He has just had relations with his stepmother.
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