by Lauren Canan
With consummate skill, he encouraged her lips to open. His tongue slid deep into the cavern of her mouth, sending her heart plummeting all the way to her knees. The kiss was frankly intimate, shamefully enticing and custom designed to evoke a matching response from her. He tasted of champagne and his own uniquely delicious male flavor. It mingled with the bittersweet essence of his cologne, which silently affirmed the raw masculinity of the man who wore it.
His hands rubbed her back, working down her spine, slowly massaging away the last remnants of her inner turmoil. Sensual warmth began to spread though her, intensifying the heat pooling between her legs while a thread of confusion wove its way into her mind.
What am I doing? But the question was too fleeting to receive an answer.
Slowly but steadily, her fear began to change form, turning instead into a fundamental need that refused to be ignored. A fragment of her mind insisted this wasn’t right. Her body screamed that it was.
Alec pushed the creamy fabric of the gown from her shoulders. It fell to the floor with a quiet rustle. She should have been shocked, but the realization weighed no heavier than the soft evening breeze entering the room through the open windows. For a few moments in time, she forgot the reality of her situation, of her pledged hatred of this man. Of their own accord, her arms slid up over his muscled chest to rest on his broad, powerful shoulders, letting her fingers play in the thick, silky texture of his hair. Alec’s hands moved lower in their rotation until, reaching the fullness of her hips, he pulled her firmly up and against him. The hard, male ridge of his arousal pressed against the sensitive juncture between her legs and a jolt of pure sexual hunger shot through her. Her body jerked forward, uncontrollably, bringing a deep growl from Alec.
He began to alternately kiss and nibble the delicate contours of her neck and shoulder and, eyes closed, she tilted her head to allow him greater access. His hands moved to her breasts, kneading the firmness, making them swell under his touch. Then his mouth returned to hers in a deep, drugging kiss that brought a small whimper, an automatic response conveying the end of her struggle against the inevitable.
Five
Experience told Alec that sound signified her acceptance of what was to come. He knew, at this moment in time she was his, completely and totally. Raising his head, he looked at Shea’s face, radiant in the moonlight. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted as if waiting for his mouth to return. As if beckoning his lips to return.
Heat coursed through his body, centering in his loins, making him throb against the restricting barrier of his slacks. A slight tremor reminded him he was about to cross the line. This was not the plan. Seducing her wouldn’t accomplish anything except add to the problems he already faced and enormously complicate the entire situation.
He gritted his teeth, closed his eyes and fought for restraint. But even when he couldn’t see, her fragrance assailed him, called to him and tempted him almost beyond his control. He knew her body craved fulfillment and her need only served to bring him closer to that moment of ultimate possession, a moment that should never happen. He ached with wanting. His libido screamed, Take her!
Suddenly, it was too much.
Damn the land. Damn that contract. Damn this situation. With a groan of defeat, he scooped her into his arms, laid her gently on the bed and followed her down, his mouth again finding hers.
Then, almost unnoticeable at first, a persistent sound of drumming broke into the moment. The sound, hesitant but determined, brought with it a cold reality that refused to leave.
Frowning, Alec raised his head, reluctantly separating his lips from hers. He inhaled deeply, fighting to regain cognizant thought. It sounded as if someone was knocking on a door. Silence. Then it started again. Another hard series of raps caused him to look questioningly at Shea while he fought to latch onto some thread of reality.
“Are you expecting anyone?” His voice sounded rough, even to his own ears.
She mutely looked into his face. Alec drew a deep breath and blew it out, pausing to regain what little mind he had left. Finally, he rolled off the bed and stood up. Taking another deep breath, he walked out into the hallway and down the stairs as the persistent knocking continued. He knew a sudden surge of fury as he reached the kitchen door.
Hank Minton, the ranch foreman, stood on the doorstep. He had his hat in his hands, and a worried look pinched the strained features of his face. He wouldn’t look Alec in the eye. Instead he watched the bugs fluttering around the porch light, studied the doorbell and finally appeared to give significant attention to his old, worn boots.
“Hank.” Suspicion set off a flashing red light in Alec’s still-muddled brain.
“I’m sorry to bother you all with this,” the old cowboy said. “Real sorry. Specially knowing it’s your weddin’ night and all. But we got a horse down and I think Shea’s gonna need to take a look at him.”
“I see,” Alec replied. And he did.
There was no question in his mind that Shea had solicited Hank’s help for this perfectly timed interruption. Alec was torn between a desire to toss the old man off the step or hug his neck and thank him for doing what Alec apparently lacked the strength to do himself.
Hank had just provided a plausible excuse for Alec to stop, which was exactly what he should have done in the first place. Annoyance surged through him for his weakness and for letting his desire overcome his common sense.
He definitely should be grateful to Hank. Why, then, did he have the urge to break the old man’s neck?
“Come in. I’ll get her.”
The old cowboy nodded and stepped just inside the kitchen, glancing at the sink, the overhead light, the chairs and finally back to his boots.
* * *
Shea sat on the edge of the bed in the darkened room as reality came slamming back. Willing her pulse to steady, she took a deep breath in a desperate attempt to clear her head. Her hand trembled as she ran her fingers through her hair. It had been close. Too close. His touch left the lower parts of her body swollen, unfulfilled and badly in need of something more.
He hadn’t made love to her. Technically. Hadn’t penetrated her body with his. She should be monumentally happy. Why, then, did she feel ridiculously disappointed?
She stood and felt her way to the closet, not bothering to turn on a light. Her legs were strangely weak. She quickly shucked her hosiery, pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt and then descended the stairs. She couldn’t help but grimace as the full impact of the situation settled over her.
She’d almost had sex with Alec Morreston.
Even worse, he hadn’t forced her. He hadn’t held her down or tied her to the bedposts. He’d kissed her. That was all. Apparently, that had been enough. She knew it. And worse, so did he. Alec was here to take away her ranch, her home, everything she held dear. She would do well to remember that. He was, inarguably, a very potent package with obvious experience to back that up. She had to be strong.
Alec pivoted from the open doorway as she entered the kitchen. He didn’t appear surprised to see her there. “It seems your presence is needed in the barn.” His tone clearly said he was suspicious of Hank’s timing.
“It’s Crusty, Shea.” Hank’s voice carried to her from the doorway. “He’s down. Me and Jason, we’ve been working with him almost an hour, but we can’t keep him on his feet. I think it’s colic.” The old cowboy threaded the brim of his hat through his hands in a nervous gesture as he stared at his boots. “I’m real sorry about this. Real sorry.”
“That’s okay, Hank.” Shea glanced at Alec. “I’m sure Mr. Morreston understands.” The look Alec gave her clearly said he understood far more than just the claimed need for Shea’s presence in the barn. “Give me a second to put on some shoes. Is he in the main barn?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll go on back out there.” He put his hat firmly
on his head and turned toward the door. “I’m real sorry ’bout this. Real sorry.” Hank closed the door behind him.
Shea ran up the stairs and into the bedroom, wasting no time as she pulled on socks and boots. Just as she stood and reached for her jacket, Alec walked into the room.
“Need any help?”
“No. Thanks anyway.”
As she walked past him, he gently touched her shoulder, stopping her in midstride.
“Consider this...a wedding gift. We wouldn’t want all of Hank’s efforts to be for nothing. But, take fair warning, next time there will be no interruptions. You can accept that or you can prepare to leave here.” There was a gleam of promise in his eyes.
His insolence was like a splash of cold water. A scant few minutes ago, she’d been on the verge of giving herself to this man. Now her only inclination was to put her fist firmly against his nose with the highest velocity she could muster. The combined emotions of frustration and humiliation propelled her anger to the surface.
Pushing past him, she almost ran down the stairs.
When she pulled open the heavy barn door, she found Hank holding the lead shank attached to a halter placed on one of the older geldings.
“Figured he might come with you,” Hank explained. “Ole Crusty here looks like he just might keel over any minute. A city feller wouldn’t know the difference.” Shea smiled and nodded. “Was I convincin’? Did I do okay?”
“Yeah.” She nodded her approval as she walked toward the old horse. “You did good, Hank.”
Her plan had worked. The timing could have been a little better, but even so, good enough. So why wasn’t she bouncing-off-the-walls deliriously happy? Why did she feel so incomplete? In all honesty, she had to admit deep down a part of her regretted the interruption.
Alec knew a woman’s body. He knew exactly where to touch, precisely how to kiss and just what to do to make a female respond to him. To make her respond to him. From the beginning, she’d sensed he would be highly skilled in bed, but she’d never envisioned finding out firsthand. She could still taste him, could feel his hard body against hers. His masculine scent was heavy on her skin. The fire he’d lit still burned, refusing to die out. Taking a deep, shaky breath, she sat down on a bale of hay and rubbed her forehead in an attempt to clear her mind. But the remembrance of what had happened—of what had almost happened—stubbornly wouldn’t go away.
“Missy, are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Hank removed his hat and scratched his head, which left his thinning gray hair in a tousled mess on top of his head, then replaced his timeworn hat.
“Absolutely.” She smiled bravely, confidently at the old cowboy. But she knew she was lying through her teeth.
* * *
Alec watched as Shea almost ran down the stairs. He raked his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. It had been too close. Three minutes, maybe less, and their bodies would have been locked in the most intimate act that could happen between two people and nothing on this earth would have made him let her go. He wasn’t exactly sure how he’d allowed the situation to escalate as far as it had and he wasn’t certain how to prevent it in the future.
The plan had been to frighten her with an overload of sexual intimidation, come on so hard and heavy that she’d run like a scared rabbit. But instead of running, instead of saying, Okay, you win, I’ll leave, she had looked up at him with those damned amazing blue eyes and silently begged him not to hurt her, pleaded with him to give her time. And in that instant, with her enticing lips a mere breath away, and those eyes imploring him to understand, he’d made a choice. And that choice had almost irrevocably changed everything.
He couldn’t remember ever losing control or being blindsided by the aura of a sexy woman. But this time his strength of will had flown out the window and he’d almost sacrificed everything for a young woman from the back woods of Texas with big blue eyes and one hell of a game plan. So much for his ironclad resolve.
He had to get out of here, at least for a while. Let things cool down and give himself time to regain his perspective, to reformulate his plan. With a grimace, he turned and walked toward the bathroom and a cold shower.
* * *
The sun was just peeking over the distant hills when Shea quietly made her way back to the house. The romantics of the world could say all they wanted about sleeping on a soft bed of hay. In truth, it was prickly and itchy and its stiff, needlelike projections could poke through even the thickest blanket right into your skin. She hadn’t had a good night. But the few hours of restless sleep had been enough to restore her sanity. In the light of day, she knew the outcome of the previous night could have been much worse.
She could have made love to Alec.
She could be lying in that bed right now with his big, muscled arms securely around her, drowsy in the aftermath of their lovemaking. Feeling— Stop! With a muttered oath, Shea pulled open the back door.
When she entered the kitchen, to her surprise, Alec was already there dressed in dark slacks, a clean white dress shirt and tie. He looked disgustingly well-rested.
“Looks like you had a good night,” he said, reaching out to pull some straw from her tangled hair. “You give an entirely new meaning to a roll in the hay. Sleep well, did you?” His mouth twitched in amusement as he gestured to the pot of fresh coffee.
Shea ignored his jibes, opened the cabinet and selected a mug. If he expected her to make any comment about what happened last night—or what hadn’t happened—he could hold his breath until he turned blue.
She couldn’t help noticing the way his shirt did little to hide the muscles of his arm as he lifted his cup to his mouth, or the way his full lips opened against the rounded edge of the mug as he sipped the steaming coffee. She quickly turned away as unsettling sensations began to send surges of heat through her veins.
“I need to return home for a few days,” Alec said as she reached for the coffee. “I understand this might be viewed as deserting my wife on our honeymoon, but I’m afraid it can’t be helped. As far as the contract, I don’t recall any stipulation that I never leave the boundaries of the land, only that I ensure your protection from any and all perils. If you think you’ll be safe for a few days—” his sarcasm was apparent “—I need clothes. And I need to make some arrangements. Do our attorneys need to become involved with this?”
In spite of the temptation to try to deny Alec the time he needed, she knew it wouldn’t be right. And there was nothing in the contract to prevent him from leaving the property.
“No. But I wouldn’t bother packing a lot of clothes. You won’t be here long enough to need them.”
At least his trip would give her the time she needed to form a better plan to make him leave permanently. With any luck, he wouldn’t come back at all.
He watched her guardedly. “Want to come with me?”
“No, thank you,” she quickly responded. “I’ve got things I need to see to here.”
“I’m sure you do,” he replied, tongue in cheek. “How’s the horse?”
“The horse?” she frowned. It took a few seconds before she remembered the “sick” horse in the barn. “Oh. Fine. Good.” She looked down at her mug and away from the scrutiny of those amber eyes, knowing she was incapable of telling a convincing lie. “I expect he’ll make a full recovery.”
“Oh, I have no doubt.”
Alec walked to the counter where she stood and reached around her to place his cup in the sink. “Call a local furniture store and have them send out a larger bed. Get an entire suite if you like.”
The surprise must have shown on her face.
“Is money a problem?”
“No.” She shook her head. “But a larger bed won’t fit into that room.”
“Then have it put in a larger room.” He cocked his head. “There is a larger bedroom
, isn’t there?”
“Yes, but...”
Alec watched her reaction. “But what?”
There were in fact three bedrooms upstairs. But moving into the master indicated a permanency she did not want. She just wished he would stay wherever it was he was going and let her life return to normal.
“Nothing.” She shook her head. “How long will you be away?” She didn’t want to ask. To do so might imply she cared. But she had to prepare for his return.
“A few days. Possibly a week. I can’t be sure. Why? Will you miss me?”
She snorted and took a sip of her coffee.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear before his head dipped toward her and his lips found hers. It was instinct rather than conscious thought that made her open to him. He deepened the embrace, kissing her thoroughly but briefly. Then, raising his head, he broke the contact but remained close.
“You’re going to lose,” Alec whispered. “But this challenge is becoming more interesting by the minute. I look forward to the next round.”
Her expression strengthened into a cold glare. But before she could respond in kind, he turned and walked out the door.
* * *
The large private jet sliced through the white clouds en route back to Dallas from New York LaGuardia. After a week of reflection, Alec was no closer to finding a concrete plan that would ensure he maintained control of the bizarre situation.
So far, the only thing guaranteed to work was avoiding her altogether. But not only would that not serve his objective, it was not something he was willing to do.
He glanced at the child, asleep on the small bed across the aisle. This morning, when he’d picked up his bag and prepared to leave for the airport, he’d seen Scotty peeking around the corner of the kitchen doorway. He’d walked over to his son, lifted the four-year-old into his arms and given in to the overwhelming need to hold him close.
