by Rebecca York
“Oh!’’
He nibbled his lips along the side of her cheek, nipped at her ear before starting to speak. “You know, I gave considerable thought to how we should do this the first time. I decided that this might be the best way.’’
As he spoke, he grasped her hips and tilted them back and forth so that her most sensitive flesh slid against his erection, sending tongues of fire licking through her.
“Oh,’’ she said again, “oh, that feels—’’
“Better than my fantasies, and they were pretty vivid,’’ he admitted as he tipped her back a little so that he could find her nipples with his mouth while his fingers stroked over her belly and then lower. She clung to his shoulders, almost lost in the pleasure he was giving her.
He was bringing her to the point of climax, and she was drowning in the sensations. Then he lifted his hand away from her, and she made a pleading sound of protest.
When she slid frantically against him, he stilled her hips with his hands. “Sweetheart, this is the time to take me inside you, if you want,’’ he said, his voice gritty. “And if you want to stop, you’re the one in charge. You can do this however you like.’’
He’d known how much she needed to be in control, and she was grateful for that. But she wasn’t planning to disappoint either one of them.
“I’m not going to stop,’’ she told him, standing and then bringing herself down again to meet the tip of his shaft. A tiny wave of fear stilled her for a moment, but she had never turned away from a challenge, so she continued the downward plunge. As he slid into her, there was pressure and a quick stab of pain that made her gasp.
“Sweetheart, it’s okay. You don’t have to—’’
She felt her lips curve into a grin, felt an inward surge of triumph as she shifted to accommodate him more fully. “I think I already have.’’
“Are you all right?’’ he asked, strain roughening his voice.
“Yes,’’ she whispered. “But I suspect I’ll be even better if you do the things you were doing to me before.’’
“You mean this?’’ he asked, as his hands caressed her breasts and bottom. “And this?’’ he inquired as he shifted one hand to the place where their bodies joined.
She could only gasp out her pleasure as she rocked against him while he bent to suck one dark nipple with his mouth.
She shattered then, feeling herself contract around him, the exquisite pleasure of it spiraling through her, bringing a cry of joy to her lips—a cry that was echoed by his shout of release as he joined her.
She sank against him, boneless, her damp body plastered to his. For long moments neither of them moved. Then his lips skimmed the side of her face.
“Well?’’ he murmured.
“Well, you were right. It was…sensational.’’
She felt his lips curve into a smile. “Next time I’ll do more of the work.’’
“You knew I had to feel like I could escape if I needed to.’’
“Yeah,’’ he answered lazily.
“Thank you.’’
“Thank you for trusting me,’’ he answered. Before she could reply, he added, “I think we’re going to be a little more comfortable in bed.’’
“Mmm.’’
She let him lift her, let him carry her to the bed, where he bent to sweep the spread and blanket aside. Scooting onto the cool surface, she pulled the sheet and blanket over her.
“Sometime we’ve got to work on the modesty thing,’’ he murmured as he slipped into bed beside her.
She’d been half-asleep, but her eyes snapped open. “I’ll let you look at my bulging middle, if you let me look at that scar.’’
“Uh…maybe you’re right. We both need to get some sleep.’’
A few hours ago she would have pressed the issue. Now she allowed herself to settle against him.
ROY LOGAN LOOKED at the hole in the plasterboard where he’d put his fist through the wall eight hours ago. Then he flexed the fingers of his right hand. The knuckles still smarted, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the pain of defeat.
Temporary defeat.
Roy had been in his office waiting for the phone to ring, anticipating victory. Then Al had called from outside the grocery store at Henry’s Camp to say that Ed Stanton had bungled the job. Amanda Barnwell was on the loose again.
Apparently the monkey wrench in the works had been that bastard Matthew Forester, who kept sticking his nose in where he wasn’t wanted. When Roy’s phone tap at the Double B Ranch had pinpointed Amanda’s location, he’d sent out men to investigate and found her hiding out at a run-down fishing camp on Lake La Platta. Then, when they’d been about to scoop her up, Forester had showed up again. Just in time to take care of Stanton and hornswoggle a local kid into driving his truck around the lake before ditching Ed in the woods.
Al had finally gotten the straight story out of the kid, after he’d gone up to two thousand dollars in bribe money. But by that time it was too late. Forester and the woman could have been anywhere.
“I hear you had a little mishap this afternoon,’’ a voice interrupted his thought.
Roy whirled to face his brother Bud—the last person he wanted to see at the moment. “What mishap?’’ he growled.
“You’re chasing the Barnwell woman, and she got away.’’
“How do you know so much?’’ Roy demanded.
“Oh, I hear things,’’ Bud said, slipping his hands into his pockets, exaggerating the disgusting paunch that pulled the fabric of his shirtfront tight, so that the bottom button looked as if it was going to pop open.
Roy looked at his older brother with distaste. Bud ate and drank too much and he didn’t work out. Worse, he didn’t have sense enough to keep his nose out of other people’s business. Probably Bud had a guy or two at the ranch he was paying for information. And whoever it was had better clear out before Roy discovered him.
“What are you doing here?’’ he snapped, walking around and sitting down at the desk. It always made him feel more secure to have the polished mahogany desktop between himself and a visitor. Particularly his brother.
“What a way to greet your own flesh and blood,’’ Bud remarked, seating himself in one of the leather chairs across from the desk as though he owned the place.
Roy snorted. He and Bud had been rivals since childhood. When they’d been young, his older brother had had the advantage. But Roy had made up for that in spades. He was the one who had taken this ranch away from their grandfather. He was the one who had turned it into a profitable operation—before he’d started branching out into even more lucrative avenues.
He’d planned to leave it all to Colin. Now it would go to his grandson, as soon as he wrested the boy away from that crazy Barnwell gal. Because in his mind he was sure she was carrying a boy—a replacement for Colin. What kind of woman went to a clinic and had some doctor stick a test tube full of semen up inside her instead of doin’ it the regular way? A crazy woman, that’s who. And if a judge didn’t think she was crazy now, he would by the time Roy and his men got finished with her. Because she wasn’t going to raise the child. He was going to do that. He was going to do it right—give the kid his values. And not spoil him rotten the way he’d done with Colin.
“I can help you out on those detective records,’’ Bud said.
Roy’s head snapped up. “What the hell? You have them?’’
His brother shook his head, raised a hand, palm outward. “Didn’t mean to give that impression. But I know how much you want that information, so I’ve got a guy I know who can go over the same ground. I can give you a report pretty soon.’’
“Why would you want to do that for me?’’
“I figure it’s time we mend our fences. Neither one of us is getting any younger. We should start workin’ together instead of against each other.’’
Roy laughed. “Yeah, we just got to figure out how to trust each other.’’
“So let me take the first step. Let m
e help you with the investigation.’’
“If you really want to.’’ He didn’t trust Bud any further than he could throw him in a windstorm, but he figured it was better to know what he was doing than not—so he could take appropriate action.
“So, did you have a preliminary report I could start with?’’ Bud asked, his eyes hooded.
“Yeah, I got some stuff for you,’’ Roy allowed.
AMANDA AWOKE once in the night, made a trip to the bathroom, then raided the minibar for cheese and crackers because she was starving. The next time she woke, just after dawn, she felt Matt’s hands on her, bringing her body to life again.
This time he didn’t let her hide by pressing close to him. Instead he stripped away the covers, watching her body as he aroused her. He teased her breasts with his hands and his mouth, gently stroked the roundness of her belly, then dipped into the moist flesh at the juncture of her legs, making her move restlessly against his clever fingers.
“You’re so beautiful,’’ he breathed.
“You must have bad eyesight,’’ she managed to reply.
“Have you ever seen a statue of an ancient fertility goddess? This is the general body type. So you’re programed to turn guys on.’’
“Am I?’’
“In this case, I think you can tell.’’
There was no denying the hard shaft that pressed against her thigh.
“How about if we try it the traditional way?’’ he whispered as he nudged her legs apart with his knee.
“Are you sure that’s okay?’’
He gave a low laugh. “I’m a trained covert agent. I never venture into new territory without doing my homework. The pregnancy books say this is fine—until you get quite a bit bigger.’’
“You were reading pregnancy books?’’ she gasped as he gently rolled one nipple between his finger and thumb, then bent to swirl his tongue around the tightened flesh.
“Uh-huh,’’ he answered thickly. “I figured you didn’t have any reason to study up on sexual intercourse for expectant mothers so I’d better do it.’’ He ended the sentence with a series of kisses as he covered her body with his and eased inside her, keeping his weight on his elbows. “Does that feel okay?’’
“It feels…oh, that’s wonderful,’’ she breathed as he began to move inside her.
She gave herself over to the sensations he was building climbing upward through layers of sky until she broke through a meteor shower of sensation.
She knew he had followed her there when she heard his groan of pleasure, felt his body convulse above her. He stayed where he was for only a few moments longer, then shifted to the bed beside her and pulled her close.
“This could be habit-forming,’’ she whispered, her lips against his ear.
“That’s one of my intentions.’’
He’d given her an opportunity she would be a fool to turn down. Yet it was hard to get the words past her suddenly clogged throat. “What are the rest of your intentions?’’ she asked in a small voice.
“Keeping you safe. Keeping you with me.’’
There was a long pause. The next question was, “For how long?’’ Since she couldn’t go that far, she only nodded and snuggled closer to him.
“I mean, for as long as it takes,’’ he said. “I mean, I’m not going off on any more trips. Well, unless I’ve got something to do, and it’s too dangerous for you to come along.’’
“Gee, thanks, I think,’’ she murmured, not daring to push her luck any further.
THE NEXT TIME SHE WOKE, it was to the aroma of bacon and eggs. Blinking her eyes open, she saw Matt, dressed in another of his dark T-shirts and faded jeans, pushing a cart into the bedroom.
“What time is it?’’ she asked.
“Ten.’’
Her eyes shot to the window, where the heavy drapes still blocked the sun. “You should have opened the curtain. I’ve never slept that late in my life!’’
“You needed the rest, after all that driving yesterday—and all that other unaccustomed activity.’’
Looking amused by the flush that spread across her skin, he pushed the cart to the side of the bed. Reaching behind her, he fluffed up the pillows. “And now you need to eat. Although I saw you raided the refrigerator in the middle of the night.’’
She nodded, suddenly remembering why she hadn’t had much dinner. But she didn’t spoil the mood by mentioning it. Matt brought his plate to the desk, and as he moved the chair, their eyes met.
He grinned at her. “I guess you won’t be able to look at another desk chair without thinking about last night.’’
“I guess not.’’
He grinned again, then attacked his breakfast with gusto.
“How’s your leg?’’ she asked.
“Better.’’
He said it quickly enough so that she wasn’t sure how accurate he was being. But she elected not to press him.
He ate several more bites of breakfast before remarking, “Last night I didn’t want to talk about business. This morning we need to discuss Francetti’s research—and what I’ve come up with on my own.’’
She felt her shoulders tense. “You mean about Colin?’’
“Most of the information is on him. But my main aim is in getting Roy off your back. Is the discussion going to spoil your breakfast?’’
“No.’’
“Good.’’ Matt stood, kicked off his shoes and picked up his coffee mug. Circling the bed, he climbed onto the other side, then slid over so that he was sitting next to Amanda.
“How bad is the report on Colin?’’ she asked.
He knit his fingers with hers. “I’d say Logan must have raised him to feel like he could never measure up. So he worked out various ways to prove he was better than his father.’’
“That’s bull! He was one of the most arrogant boys, then one of the most arrogant men, I’ve ever met.’’
“Yeah, well, apparently he had to prove his worth over and over. Unfortunately he had a lot of help from his uncle Bud. Heard of him?’’
She shook her head.
“There are five brothers in the Logan family. Three of them are upstanding citizens. Bud is another matter. He’s a couple of years older than Roy, but he never did as well. Of course, he keeps trying, and part of his aim was to get some influence over Colin.’’
“Why?’’
“Maybe to get back at Roy for treating him like he treats everyone else. Maybe to get his hands on some of the money Roy gave to Colin when he was twenty-five.’’ He paused. “I told you about the drug lab in L.A.’’
She nodded.
“Colin was one of the backers. Bud’s not connected to that. But he’s an investor in a Las Vegas syndicate of legitimate businessmen who are building a casino. Apparently he tried to get Colin in on that deal, but he was killed before the papers were signed.’’
“Oh.’’
“So our next stop is Las Vegas.’’
“You think legitimate businessmen had him killed? Why?’’
“They’re not the likely candidates, unless they have mob backing. But I want to poke around in their operation a little bit and find out what’s what. See if they might have had anything they wanted to hide from Francetti. If there’s anything criminal regarding their relationship with Colin, it’ll be easier to prove than the L.A. drug connection.’’
“Why?’’
“Because all Colin provided to the drug guy Dexter Perkins was cash. And Roy could argue he didn’t know what he was financing. But there are very strict laws in Nevada governing gambling casinos.’’
He took a swallow of coffee, then set the cup down again. “And I thought that while we were there, we could get married.’’
Chapter Eleven
Matt sat there, waiting for her response, feeling the line of his jaw tighten from the tension.
“Did I hear that right? We could get married?’’ she asked carefully.
“Yeah.’’
“Why?�
��’
Because of his own blind, selfish need. Deep down he must have known he was going to fall in love with her from the first time he’d laid eyes on her. But he didn’t think Amanda was ready to accept the simple answer, not from a guy she’d barely met a month ago. Not when she didn’t believe that anyone would want to marry her.
“To protect you and the baby,’’ he answered, making it sound convincing. “If we’re married, then the baby will be legally mine.’’
He felt his breath turn shallow as he watched her think that over. “You’d marry me to protect Colin Logan’s child?’’ she clarified.
“We don’t know the baby’s Colin’s.’’
“Roy sure thinks it’s true,’’ she answered.
“He’s taking the word of a two-bit detective who was more anxious to collect his fee than get his facts straight.’’ Matt paused for breath, then continued. “I don’t think Francetti had enough time to decode the records. Which means either he had inside information that Colin fathered your child, or he was simply telling his client what he wanted to hear—that a piece of Colin still remained. That way Logan could snatch some kind of victory from the ashes of his son’s death. It was safe enough to make the claim, since as things stand, it can’t be proved or disproved one way or the other.’’
She digested all of that. “You’re giving me some hope that Francetti was wrong about the baby’s paternity,’’ she whispered.
He really didn’t know the answer, but he could honestly tell her, “I hope so, too. Meanwhile, we’ve only got a couple of options. We can figure out how to get the devil off our backs or we can hide for the rest of our lives. Since we haven’t had much luck with the former, I want to give you the legal protection of my name. So stop making a big deal out of it and say yes to my proposal.’’
“It is a big deal. It’s my life we’re talking about.’’ She swallowed. “My life and the baby’s. I mean, marriage is a big step,’’ she said, her voice quavering.
He clenched the fist she couldn’t see, his nails digging into his palm. “I know that, and I had time to think about it while I was lying in that motel room wondering if I was going to pull through.’’
