Song for Sophia (37 page)

She grazed her fingernails along his jaw, tickling whiskers he hadn’t shaved for a day or so. Surprisingly, he wasn’t dirty; he smelled fresh and wild from being out in the rain, intensifying his musky pine and leather scent. She tousled his wet hair as she rested on his shoulder. Ah, it was good to have him back.

“Welcome home, Wil.” She held his face and kissed him the way she wanted it, demanding he follow her pace.

She wanted to remind him why it was worth riding through a storm to come home.

About the Author

Moriah Densley sees nothing odd at all about keeping both a violin case and a range bag stuffed with pistols in the back seat of her car. They hold up the stack of books in the middle, of course. She enjoys writing about Victorians, assassins, and geeks. Her muses are summoned by the smell of chocolate, usually at odd hours of the night. By day her alter ego is your friendly neighborhood music teacher. Moriah lives in Las Vegas with her husband and four children. Visit her website at
www.moriahdensley.com
.

In the mood for more Crimson Romance?

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The Heart You Own
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