Western

Isabella could hardly think with him so close to her. She felt as if every nerve in her body was reaching out to him and she had to think, consciously, not to lean forward and touch him with the length of her body. His lean muscled physique called out to her, beckoning her to touch it. His words hadn't even registered in her mind and so she could not possibly think of a response that was appropriate. "I am sorry, what was it that you asked me?"

"I asked if you had thought to bring a bonnet. Your face has been kissed by the sun." Jackson emphasized his point by touching her face with his solid hand, caressing her cheek and down her neck to the conservative opening of her blouse. He fingered the small buttons at her neck.

"A bonnet?" Isabella closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on controlling the blood that was rushing through her veins, making it nearly impossible for her to function. His warm breath was tickling the hair at her temple and driving her to distraction.

"Yes, a bonnet. It would have kept the sun off your pretty face." Jackson smiled a knowing smile.

She wondered if he could tell what this closeness was doing to her. "A bonnet. No, I did not think to pack a bonnet." Isabella clenched her hands in front of her to keep them from reaching out to him and caressing the exposed skin of his chest where he had left a couple buttons open. All the skin she could see was golden and Isabella couldn't help but wonder how far down his tanned skin reached. Was it that dark everywhere? Isabella's gaze traveled down the length of him and rested on the noticeable bulge in his pants. Her face heated at her own boldness and she quickly brought her gaze back to his face. His expression held a knowing that further embarrassed Isabella. He couldn't have possibly known what she was thinking, could he?

"That is all right. I quite like the color the sun has added to your face. I think too pale a woman is not quite as attractive as one with a healthy natural glow." Jackson stroked her heated skin one last time then walked away to attend to the horses.

The six dismounted.  In unison they separated until they stood four feet apart, became a straight line and took several steps forward.

Blake watched as Mask sized up the six.  She whispered.  “We’re in for a fight, Lawman.”

He whispered back, “Six to one aren’t good odds.  You don’t have a spare gun under your hat do you?”

“No, just the two .44s you see on my hips.  Besides, the odds are just great.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Just you watch, lawman.”