Fortune's Secret Daughter

by Barbara Mccauley

  Guy followed a steep river rock stairway leading from the patio down to a stand of young cedars that overlooked the lake. Light from a full moon shimmered on the water like liquid silver. Bass boats moored off a small dock bobbed gently with each tiny rolling wave.

  About as far from Texas as a person could get.

  Which was exactly why Holly had come here, Guy thought. To leave old, painful memories behind and start a new life.

  But had she? he wondered. Or had she simply packed up all those memories and feelings and brought them along with her?

  He’d had just that one dance with her, then she’d managed to avoid him the rest of the evening. He’d seen her serving lasagna and pasta at one point, smiling and laughing at everyone as they’d moved through the food line. Then he’d seen her dancing with Keegan, smiling and laughing with him, as well. That had put him in a bad mood.

  Dammit, he wanted her in his arms, smiling and laughing at him. Since she’d walked out of the bedroom earlier wearing that slinky black dress and those high heels, her lips red and tiny pearls at her earlobes, he’d been a goner. Not a minute, not a second had passed all evening that he hadn’t thought about her. That he hadn’t wanted her.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  Startled, he turned at the sound of her voice. She stood a few feet away, staring out across the lake.

  “Stunning,” he said, keeping his eyes on her.

  She moved into the stand of cedars, slid her arms behind her back as she leaned against one wide trunk. “Three years ago, when I first came here and saw all this, it didn’t seem real to me,” she said quietly. “It felt like that movie where the town and its people were all phony, sets and actors created to fool the main character.”

  “The Truman Show?”

  She nodded. “But it wasn’t that way at all, of course. These people and this place is more real, more honest than anything I’ve ever known.” Her gaze wandered to the lake’s shoreline where a line of ducklings quietly swam behind their mother. “I found something here I’d never known before.”

  Her eyes had a dreamy quality to them that made Guy’s chest tighten. “What did you find?”

  “Myself.” She turned her head toward him, smiled. “I found me.”

  He moved beside her, watched the silver moonlight shimmer in her golden eyes. “And who is that?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “A woman not so different from any other.”

  “And that surprised you? That you were like other women?”

  “Yes.” Embarrassed, her gaze dropped to the ground. “I know it’s silly.”

  “I didn’t say it was silly.” Because it was impossible not to touch her, he took her chin in his hand and lifted her face. “But I’m not sure I understand why you would want to be like anybody else when you’re so right just exactly the way you are.”

  Her skin was warm and smooth against his palm. The ache started in his gut and spread lower, gnawed at him with increasing intensity.

  “Guy.” Her eyes closed on a sigh. “What are you doing to me?”

  He heard the tension in her voice, a mixture of confusion and need, of anger and anticipation. He felt all those things, too.

  Sounds drifted from the party above, a seductive Nat King Cole song, indistinguishable murmurs of conversations, a woman’s laugh. And still, standing here in the trees by the lake, it seemed as if they were miles away from people.

  “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, Holly.” He rubbed his thumb lightly over her cheek. “Now ask me what I want to do to you, with you.”

  Her eyes opened slowly and she met his gaze. “What do you want to do with me?”

  “Everything,” he whispered as he leaned closer and brushed his lips lightly over hers. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted any woman in my life. I want to make love with you.”

  Her hand trembled as she placed a palm on his chest. He went still, afraid she’d him push away, afraid that she wouldn’t. He waited, heart pounding in his chest, his mouth hovering a fraction of an inch from hers.

  Then her fingers twisted in his shirt as she dragged his lips to hers.

  Eight

  Over the past few days, Holly had convinced herself that she’d completely blown that first kiss out of proportion with her overactive mind. She’d thought she’d simply imagined that her knees had gone weak and her toes had curled.

  She’d thought wrong.

  Senses reeling, she clung to him, met the urgent thrust of his tongue with her own. He tasted like wild blackberries, no doubt from Mabel Wistrom’s home made tarts on the dessert table. She felt dizzy and exhilarated at the same time.

  Alive. Completely and utterly alive.

  From the lake, she heard the mama duck softly talking to her babies, felt the cool breeze slide over her bare shoulders. The scent of pine and cedar was heady. Like a child’s top out of control, the world spun around her.

  When he dragged his lips from hers, she moaned in protest.

  “Holly,” he whispered raggedly. “We need to go back.”

  “Back?” She brought her lips to his neck and when she nipped, he sucked in a breath. “You mean inside?”

  “Good grief, no. I meant to your place.” He chuckled softly. “Back inside is the last place I should go right now.”

  When he pulled his lower body flush with hers, she understood completely what he meant.

  His arms tightened around her again and he dropped his head to claim her one more time. She parted her lips for him and his mouth moved over her, insistent, teasing, sensuous. Every cell in her body vibrated with anticipation. To torment him, she slid her hips slowly up, then down again. But the torment was not all his, she quickly realized, and the burning need she’d felt only a moment ago now turned into a deep, hot throb.

  He wrenched himself free, his breathing ragged and fast. “Woman, you do that one more time and I’m going to forget we’re only twenty yards from about three hundred people.”

  Heavens! She’d nearly forgotten herself. And while the idea of making love in this stand of trees, with the sound of the water lapping softly at the shore and the breeze whispering in the pines tempted her, it was probably not a good idea.

  She heard a sudden burst of laughter from the patio above and the sound resonated in the night air.

  Definitely not a good idea.

  “This way.”

  She took his hand, led him through the trees, then up several steep, narrow steps until they came out on the other side of the community center. Several people milled around the front of the building, and Guy quickly pulled Holly behind a hedge of bushes to avoid being seen. She slipped off her shoes, started to laugh at the absurdity of what they were doing, but when he dragged her against him and kissed her thoroughly, her laughter turned to a moan.

  Then they were off and running with Guy in the lead this time, keeping to the shadows, weaving between bushes and trees and buildings. They were both laughing as they dashed up her stairs. One high heel slipped from her fingers and tumbled back down the steps.

  “Leave it,” he said simply when she started to turn, then opened the door and hauled her inside.

  He had her in his arms and backed up against the wall in a heartbeat. His mouth swooped down and devoured.

  Breathless, she wrapped her arms around him and hung on, met every hungry, hot kiss. She’d never been kissed with such need, with such desperation. Had never felt such intense pleasure in return. It frightened her a little, yet strangely, her fear only intensified that pleasure.

  And then his hands started to move.

  Down her sides, up again, then down. Long, slow strokes that set her blood on fire. His hands slid to her ribs and the tips of his fingers brushed the under-sides of her breasts. She shivered at the delicious caress of his palms on her belly. When he moved upward and cupped her breasts in his large hands, she moaned.

  “Guy,” she gasped when his mouth left hers to pay attention to her earlobe. “Are you sure t
hat you—”

  She lost her thought when his thumbs found her nipples and moved in tiny circles over the hardened peaks. White-hot pleasure streaked from that spot to the ache between her legs. Her head fell limply back against the door while his mouth and hands relentlessly worked magic on her.

  “That I what?” he murmured.

  His mouth, hot and insistent, moved to her neck. “Your ribs,” she said, her voice thick with desire. “Are you all right?”

  He chuckled softly. “Oh, yeah. I’m more than all right.”

  And then suddenly he swept her up in his arms, holding her tightly to him as he carried her to the bedroom, his strides long and sure. She knew that the distance they covered together was the longest trip she would ever make. And once that trip was made, there would be no turning back.

  She felt a moment of panic. Not fear of making love, that felt as right, as necessary, as taking her next breath. But she knew instinctively that what she felt went further and deeper than the act of making love. She knew she’d be giving him much more than her body. She’d be giving him her heart.

  But when he stopped beside the bed, when he let her body slide down his as he lowered her to the floor, when he tilted her face up to his and asked softly, “Are you sure?” she knew the truth.

  He already had her heart.

  The heart she’d so carefully guarded, so tenaciously protected all these years, now belonged to Guy Blackwolf.

  With a certainty that rose from her very soul, she nodded slowly. “I’m sure.”

  She slipped the thin straps of her dress off her shoulders, then let it slide down her body. Black silk pooled around her feet. His eyes darkened and narrowed at the sight of her bare breasts, but when he moved to touch her, she shook her head.

  “Not yet,” she said softly, then reached for the buttons on his shirt. She forced herself to concentrate on her task rather than the piercing steel-gray eyes that consumed her. Except for the sliver of black satin panties that stretched across her hips, she was naked. As each button slid free, it surprised Holly that her fingers held steady while her heart raced furiously and her senses reeled.

  His chest rose and fell, his breathing deepened and grew heavy. Raw power and hard muscle rippled under her palms as she slid her hands inside his shirt and up his bared chest. A light sprinkling of dark hair tickled her fingers. When she leaned forward and pressed her lips to an L-shaped scar a few inches under his collarbone, he drew in a sharp breath.

  “I need to touch you,” he growled impatiently.

  Her lips moved down his chest. Still she shook her head. “You’ll distract me.”

  “I’ll do more than that when I get my hands on you.”

  “I’ve been warned,” she murmured.

  “That’s a promise, darlin’,” he rasped, then swore when she parted her lips and lightly swept her tongue over the flat, tiny bead of male nipple. His words electrified her. She could feel the wild pounding of his heart under her hands and mouth; the explosive energy coiled tightly inside his strong body. All that magnificent power right under her fingertips, waiting to be released. The thought aroused her as much as frightened.

  Who was this woman? she wondered as if she’d stepped outside herself and were watching instead of actively participating in this erotic display of intimacy. Certainly no woman she’d ever met before. The Holly Douglas she knew had never been a seductress or a femme fatale. She’d never wanted to be.

  But she wanted to now. More than she’d ever dreamed possible.

  A primitive, urgent need took hold of her. She raked her fingernails down his chest to his flat, hard stomach, took pleasure in the knowledge that his solidity didn’t stop there.

  While her fingers worked open his belt buckle, she lifted her gaze to his, saw the flames of desire behind his smoke-dark eyes. The fierce intensity of his gaze shot through her like a lightning bolt. She lowered his zipper slowly, the sound no more than a soft hiss, then spread her fingers over velvet steel as she slid upward again to the waistband of his black sports briefs.

  All the while she kept her eyes steady with his, savoring not only the feel of him, but the look in his eyes that told her he wanted, that he needed her as much as she needed him. Her hands slid under snug stretch cotton, then felt hot, smooth skin as she slid them down again. Only then did her gaze lower.

  Her breath caught.

  Her gaze flew back to his. A wicked smile touched his mouth and his eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and desire.

  Without touching her, he leaned close, toed off his shoes, then stepped out of his slacks as he lightly kissed the tip of her nose. “Don’t move,” he whispered.

  And then, all sinew and rippling muscle, he was gone.

  Don’t move?

  She was still holding her breath when he walked back in with a foil packet in his hand. Relieved, she slowly exhaled and allowed herself to fully enjoy the glorious sight of him. Long, powerful legs, broad shoulders, lean hips. He was obviously comfortable with his body, unconcerned that he was not only naked, but fully aroused. When he moved toward her with purpose and intent, her heart slammed against her ribs.

  He set the packet on the nightstand, then turned to her.

  The look he gave her nearly melted her on the spot. If he hadn’t reached for her then, if he hadn’t pulled her into his arms, she was certain her knees would have given out.

  She wound her arms around his neck, held on tight, and together they made the long journey to the bed.

  “I thought about this,” he murmured as he dragged his mouth over her jaw and down her neck. “I tried not to, but I couldn’t get you out of my mind, wondering what you would taste like, what you would feel like.”

  Fire skittered over her skin at the touch of his teeth and mouth on her skin. “What do I feel like?” she asked breathlessly, wanting to know his every thought. “Tell me.”

  He rose on one elbow to keep his weight off her, lifted his face to gaze into her eyes. “Soft,” he whispered, brought his lips to hers, nibbled on one corner. “Incredibly sweet.” His hand moved down her throat, paused. “Like a mythical enchantress who’s cast a spell over me.”

  She laughed at that, but his words made her feel special. And she desperately needed to feel special. Needed to know that she wouldn’t be like every other woman he’d known before or would know in the future. She couldn’t think about that now, didn’t want to ever think about what it would be like when he was gone.

  And when his hand slid lower, when his mouth moved to her breast, it was impossible to think at all. On a sigh, she closed her eyes and let every sensation, each one more intense than the one before, roll through her.

  She never would have thought it possible to feel pleasure this intense, this powerful. His hands caressed, then cupped her breasts; his mouth closed over one nipple, lightly sucked as his hot, wet tongue lavished attention to the hardened tip. On a moan, she arched upward, dragged her hands through his thick hair and pulled him closer still.

  Guy had wanted to be gentle, to move slowly with Holly, but her soft little moan and the innocent lift of her body urging him on was the end of his control. His hands tightened on her body and he drew her tightly into his mouth with an urgency that stunned him. She gasped at the sudden shift in mood, dug her own fingers tighter against his scalp.

  “Guy,” she pleaded. “Please…yes, oh, yes, do that…”

  He turned his attention to her other breast, felt more than heard his own deep moan when her hands moved restlessly over his shoulders and back. The feel of her pebbled nipple against his tongue, the sound of her quick breaths, made his blood pound furiously in his temple.

  His need for her made him rougher than he’d intended, but when he tried to pull back she made a whimpering sound and writhed under him and he was over the edge again. Impatient, he yanked the thin undergarment from her hips and with that small rip of satin, she was completely naked to him.

  His hand moved to her belly, then lower to dip into the
heat of her body, stroked her until she sobbed his name.

  No more reason. No logic. No control. He simply had to have her.

  He reached for the packet beside the nightstand, tore it open. A moment later, he took her face in his hands as he moved between her legs. She welcomed him, wrapped herself around him and drew him closer.

  He slid inside.

  It seemed that the world shifted and changed, that nothing and no one else existed outside this place. Their gazes met and held; he watched her eyes turn like fall leaves: from a glorious golden color to a deep, warm shade of amber. The intensity took his breath, made his pounding heart skip a beat. He’d never experienced anything like this in his life. He wasn’t prepared for the emotion that gripped him and held on like the claw of some great winged beast.

  But when she moved her hips, when she sighed his name, when she ran her hands down his chest to where they were joined, the need once again returned with a force that stole every other thought from him. He moved inside her, slowly at first, then faster, taking them both closer to the edge. Her body embraced his, met him stroke for stroke, matched the pulsing, erotic rhythm.

  And when they reached the edge, when there was nowhere else to go, they held on tightly to each other and tumbled over together.

  “I may never move again.”

  Holly laughed softly at Guy’s hoarse whisper. She lay in the crook of his arm, one leg resting intimately over his, her head on his shoulder and her hand on his chest. She felt the heavy thud of his heart under her palm and knew that it matched her own.

  Every nerve in her body still hummed with pleasure. If she were a cat, she’d be purring loud enough to make the walls shake. It amazed her, that she could feel so exhilarated, yet so completely relaxed at the same time.

  She’d had only one intimate relationship before. In Texas, a man she’d dated a long time and felt comfortable with. But though she’d cared deeply for him, she’d never seen fireworks or heard bells ringing. Making love had never moved the earth or shattered her soul.