MYRIAH FIRE

She lay staring in utter disbelief
at the stranger she was still holding in her arms

Lantern in hand, Kit moved upstairs to his bedchamber. He was surprised the drapes in his room had been pulled tight but was too tired to contemplate the mystery. He set the lit lantern on a side table and shrugged out of his clothes. He then picked up the lantern and made his way to his bed, setting the lantern on the nightstand. However, there he stopped short.
Someone with long, flaming ringlets of hair was lying face down, covered only to her waist—in his bed!
His first thought made him grin. His puppy of a brother had no doubt brought her home with him, but why would the rascal send her off to his bedchamber?
Drape mystery solved, and another one to contemplate.
“Now what to do with you, sweet,” he murmured. Grinning, as he thought, One shouldn’t infringe on one’s brother’s property—but really, Billy, why the devil did you put her in my bed? This question repeated itself, and still grinning, his lordship decided the only thing to do in such a situation was to wake her—his way!
He nibbled at her delicate ears and placed a warm kiss on her throat. She groaned pleasurably. The sound stimulated him, and he leaned over her and took her mouth with his.
* * *
Myriah felt the sweet pressure, and her dream took on a new force, one that sent a fire bolt racing through her veins. Her arms went around the virile, muscular body, the source of her dream’s acute burning.
All at once Myriah was awake. Unable to speak in spite of the fact that her lips were now quite free, she lay staring in utter disbelief at the stranger she was still holding in her arms. She lay for a moment in quiet astonishment, trying to collect her thoughts as she stared at the stranger’s face.
He was smiling provocatively, and she noted the ruggedness of his features. Somehow, they seemed familiar. But he was a stranger nonetheless—and he was in her bed, taking advantage of her.
This notion was followed by the next, that being it was no doubt time to drop her arms and pull out of range, which she did speedily, wondering all the while how the deuce this situation had come to pass.
The gasp that had been stuck in her throat finally escaped. The words of outrage got mingled with fear, and she jumped up to a sitting position. Pulling the covers around herself, she pointed towards the door as she blubbered, “How dare you! Get out of my room!”
His voice was low, husky, and full with a sensually lined amusement. “Well, little bird, for one thing … this is my room. And for another, although I should be throwing you out, I think I’ll keep you in spite of your offense to my person.”