The Rancher And The Runaway Bride: Part 3

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The Rancher And The Runaway Bride: Part 3 Page 3

by Susan Mallery


  She sniffed. “I took off my shoes because I didn’t want to make any noise. I grabbed my purse and I ran to the exit. Only I didn’t get all the way out the first time. As I told you before, I heard voices so I ducked into one of the meeting rooms. While I was waiting for the people in the hall to pass, I realized I wasn’t alone. There were men in there with me.”

  “They saw you?”

  She shook her head. “Not then. I was shocked and embarrassed. I thought they were doctors. My brother’s a doctor, and I was terrified they might know me. I didn’t want to be seen running away.” She wiped her face with the back of her hand, then leaned her head against his shoulder.

  “Then what?”

  “Then I tried to leave. The room was sort of L-shaped, with a screen. I could hear them talking. They were drinking coffee, I think. Yes, they were, because I remember the smell of it and the sound of clinking, like the coffeepot had hit the edge of a mug. Anyway, I opened the door and was prepared to sneak out, only I stepped on a carpet tack and screamed. Not loud, but loud enough.”

  He felt her tense. “Okay. Relax. Don’t worry about it.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’m here and you’re fine. So you cried out. Then what?”

  “They came after me. I turned around, and this guy had a gun pointed directly at me. I remember thinking I could see that he was going to kill me. It was in his eyes. I couldn’t do anything but stand there and wait to die. Then the lights went out.”

  “What?”

  She nodded. “I know it sounds insane, but that’s what happened. The lights went out. Like a power outage or something from the horrible rainstorm. I ran. When I got outside, a guy in a semi picked me up and took me to Phoenix.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yes. I know it sounds crazy. I’ve been over it a bunch of times. If they’d been selling drugs or doing anything illegal, I would have understood. But they weren’t. They were just talking.”

  Men who “just talked” didn’t go around killing people, Brady thought grimly. There was something else going on. “Did you ever contact the police?”

  She sighed. He felt warm breath fan his throat and tried to ignore the erotic sensation. “No. At first I was too scared to think clearly. After a while, I doubted what I’d seen. But I was nervous enough not to risk going back.”

  “If they weren’t doing anything obviously illegal then they must be worried about what you overheard. What did they say?”

  “I can’t remember. Something about Jo.”

  “One of the guys there?”

  “No, a woman. They said ‘she.’” She paused. “Jo will take care of the old broad. That’s her—” She stiffened. “Her, what? Something like…oh, damn. Wait! Specialty. That’s it. I thought they were talking about a woman taking a nursing job. Obviously I was wrong.”

  Those two sentences didn’t seem enough to kill over. “That’s it?” he asked.

  “I didn’t hear anything else.”

  “You said the men who shot at us today weren’t the same ones you saw then, right?”

  “Right. I remember a guy with a beard. At least he wasn’t there today. I’m not sure about the other one. I can’t remember what he looked like.”

  “If different men are chasing you, someone is serious about this.”

  “I know. What am I going to do?”

  He cupped her shoulders and eased her back a little. “You don’t have to worry about this tonight because we’re staying right here. In the morning we’ll come up with a plan together. I’m going to help you through this, Randi.”

  His gaze locked with hers. Some of the fear faded from her eyes. “Always the gentleman,” she said. “Do you still despise me?”

  “I never did.”

  Randi studied Brady’s familiar face. While she was worried someone was trying to kill her, if she had to be in danger, there was no one else she would rather have on her side. Brady was a rock. Smart, steady, solid. When he said they would get through this together, she found it easy to believe in him.

  “Don’t think about it anymore tonight,” he said, pressing lightly on her head until she rested it on his shoulder. “You’re safe here. Are you hungry?”

  “No.” She couldn’t imagine eating. She couldn’t imagine sleeping, either, but that was a problem for later.

  She shifted. Brady stiffened, as if uncomfortable. Awareness dawned. She’d wrapped her arms around him as if she was an octopus and she showed no signs of letting go. He must think she was trying to make a pass at him. Her face flooded with heat.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, moving back quickly and clearing her throat. “I forgot myself. I didn’t mean to—” Words failed her, and she was reduced to making a meaningless gesture with her hands, trying to indicate she hadn’t meant to throw herself at him.

  “It’s okay.”

  She dropped her gaze to the worn blue pattern of flowers on the bedspread. “No, it’s not, but it’s kind of you to pretend that it is.”

  “Randi?”

  “Yes.” She continued to stare at the spread, wishing there were a casual way to apologize. It was nerves, or the tension of the moment. How could she have been so unaware? Why hadn’t she noticed the way she was pressing against his body, flattening her breasts against his broad chest. He must think she was a wanton of some kind or—”Randi, look at me.”

  Slowly, she raised her gaze to his. Instead of looking disgusted, he had a faintly amused expression. Lurking laughter made his eyes crinkle.

  “I liked it,” he said.

  She shivered. “You’re just being kind.”

  “No, I’m being honest. I wasn’t pulling back, I was trying to keep you from knowing how much I liked it.”

  She blinked. At first his statement didn’t make sense. How could she know how much he liked being close to her? Then she got it. “Oh.” She blinked again and made her gaze stay firmly on his face. If she didn’t concentrate, it would automatically drop lower, so she could visually confirm what he’d already admitted. “Oh.”

  “Yeah, ‘oh,’” he said wryly. “Don’t worry. I’m not about to make a pass at you.”

  Well, why the hell not?

  For a moment she didn’t breathe. Dear Lord, had she said that or merely thought it? By the look on Brady’s face, the calm, if slightly self-deprecating expression, she’d only thought the words.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” he said.

  “Like what?”

  “As if you want me to do something we’re both going to regret.”

  Hunger descended with the speed and power of a tornado springing unexpectedly from the heavens. Need and desire caught her up in a vortex she could neither explain nor control. She could only hang on and endure.

  She told herself it was just the danger and the circumstances. She would be attracted to anyone who happened to be with her right now. Yet, even as she thought the words, she knew they weren’t true. She’d admired Brady from the first moment she’d met him. Time had turned admiration into liking and then into love. Love, true heart-deep affection. That was the reason she wanted to be with him. Even if they couldn’t ever share a life together, she wanted to know what it was like to join fully with the man of her dreams.

  “You have no idea what you’re asking,” he said, inching away from her.

  “Don’t I?”

  “Randi, I can’t play this game.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “If you knew how much it wasn’t a game. If you knew how much I care about you.”

  “Don’t cry.” He slid forward, gathering her against him. “Please. I’ll do anything.”

  “Really?”

  He chuckled. “Brat.”

  She brushed the tears away and looked at him. “I’m not a child. I’m a woman.”

  His expression tightened as if he were in pain. “Believe me, I know.”

  “Good. Just so we understand each other.”

  Their gazes locked. It was like their very first hug, on the stairs in fro
nt of his house. She wasn’t sure who moved forward first. She didn’t know if she reached for him, or if he gathered her closer still. She only knew that suddenly he was holding on to her as if he would never let her go. His mouth dropped to hers as she surged toward him.

  The kiss was like coming home. Familiar, welcoming, yet lighting a fire that burned so hot, every cell in her body glowed. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her fingers in his thick, short hair. His head tilted. She parted her lips, anticipating the moment he would brand her with his tongue.

  But he didn’t plunge inside right away. Instead, he circled her mouth, carefully seducing every inch of sensitive skin, dipping in slightly, then withdrawing in a dance designed to leave her trembling uncontrollably.

  He supported her back with one hand and moved the other down her side to her hip, then lower to the curve of her derriere. He squeezed gently, making her arch against him. Long fingers kneaded sensitive flesh. Through the layers of her jeans and panties, she felt his touch, the sweep of his thumb across the back of her thigh.

  His tongue dipped into her mouth, distracting her momentarily. He tasted of masculine temptation and incited the kind of passion that made lovers willing to risk everything.

  The kiss was endless as he discovered her, then withdrew, inviting her to explore him, to learn the secrets of what made him moan or stiffen or retaliate with a moist, sweeping caress.

  His hand moved up to her belly, then higher toward her breasts. She stilled, anticipating those strong, skilled fingers touching sensitive skin.

  He did not disappoint. First he stroked the underside of her curve, then he circled, as if encroaching on sacred ground. Her breasts swelled with his touch, her nipples tightened into twin points of aching sensation. When his thumb brushed against one peak, she whimpered.

  He broke the kiss. “If you knew how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

  “If you knew how long I’ve been waiting for you to do that.”

  His gaze met hers. Bright fire danced in his dilated pupils. “You could have said something.”

  She laughed softly, the sound turning into a moan as he rotated the tight bud between his thumb and forefinger. “Right. The horses are healthy and exercised. By the way, would you please touch my breasts?”

  “I would have said yes.”

  He lowered her back onto the mattress, then leaned over her. Instead of reaching for the hem of her T-shirt, he bent down and pressed his mouth to her covered breast. Through the layers of T-shirt and bra, she felt his hot breath, then the tantalizing pressure of his teeth.

  Fire burned a path from her nipple to the swelling heat between her thighs. Her toes curled, her hips arched and she had to bite back a cry.

  She clutched his head, holding him in place, urging him to do more and then more. He fulfilled her request, shifting his attention from one breast to the other, teasing them both until she couldn’t catch her breath. Then he placed a hand on her belly and began to move it lower.

  Long fingers reached for and found the tiny point of her pleasure. He rubbed the spot, pressing so she could feel him through the thick fabric of her jeans. Her head tossed from side to side. It wasn’t enough.

  As if reading her mind, he undid the button, then lowered the zipper. Still nibbling on her taut breasts, he inched under her panties, searching for, then finding, the waiting heat between her legs.

  When bare fingers met damp desire, she jumped and clutched at the bedspread. He raised his head and looked at her. “You want me,” he said, his voice thick with equal parts passion and wonder.

  “What did you think?” she asked.

  He smiled. “I’m not sure.” He rubbed her, then dipped lower. “Wet,” he murmured. “I never thought—”

  She didn’t get to hear what he thought. He leaned down and kissed her, plunging inside her mouth at the same time he began rubbing over and around the place designed for her pleasure.

  He moved back and forth, exploring slick flesh, learning her secrets, all the while kissing her into mindlessness. She writhed on the bed, finally pushing her jeans and panties off her hips and kicking them to the floor.

  “Better,” he murmured against her mouth. “Spread your legs.”

  She did as he requested. He moved his hand lower and traced the entrance to her feminine place. A shudder rippled through her.

  “Yeah,” he said softly. “Want it. Want me.”

  “I do, Brady. I want you.”

  Now it was his turn to shudder. He brought his fingers back to the pleasure place and stroked it. Her breath caught and she found herself moving faster and higher. In some distant part of her brain she was aware that he was watching her, watching the feelings drifting across her face, noting the flush she could feel spreading up her neck to her cheeks.

  Then she didn’t care. Everything in the universe focused on that tiny place on her body, on the steady cadence of his fingers, on the way he urged her higher, to give it all to him. Her blood raced faster, her head tilted back. She clutched at the bedspread and dug her heels into the mattress.

  “Now,” he whispered, and in that last moment of coherence, she wondered how he knew.

  She disappeared for a heartbeat, suspended in another dimension. His fingers continued to circle around, then the feeling exploded and she returned to a symphony of pleasure-filled release. She called his name in a hoarse voice she didn’t recognize and clutched at him when he finally held her close.

  He stroked her hair until her breathing and her heart rate returned to normal, then smiled when she asked why he had all his clothes on.

  “You’re still dressed,” he said, fingering the hem of her T-shirt.

  “Only part of me.”

  “That’s true. The interesting bits have been exposed.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

  “Are you going to cooperate, or do I have to force you?” she asked, wondering when in the past lovemaking had ever been this much fun. Those two young men in college had both been so intense and she’d been so nervous, there hadn’t been room for laughter.

  “Force me?” He seemed to consider that option. “I think I like it.”

  “I thought you might.”

  She pushed at his shoulder until he stretched out on his back. While his hands stroked her legs and bare buttocks, she busied herself with his shirt. When it was unbuttoned, she pushed the edges back and exposed the well-muscled expanse of his chest.

  Years of working outdoors had left him tanned and fit. Various scars showed that his life had occasionally flirted with danger. She traced the random patterns of the scars first with her fingers, and then with her tongue.

  He tasted salty, yet faintly sweet. The combined flavor was addictive, and she suspected she could feast on it for the rest of her life and never have enough.

  A narrow ribbon of dark hair began at his waist. She touched the exposed inch or so, then reached for his belt buckle. As she worked the metal clasp, he half sat up and pulled off his shirt. Before she reached for his button fly, he tugged at her T-shirt.

  “I want to see you,” he said.

  She pulled the shirt off in one movement, then sat back on her knees while he unfastened her bra. The undergarment fell away, exposing her breasts. He stared reverently, then cupped them. Fire flickered in her belly, banked ashes flaring once again to life.

  This time he was the one to quickly unfasten, then kick off his jeans and briefs. He urged her to stretch out on top of him, long legs tangling, bodies rubbing, heat flaring at all points of contact.

  When he rolled her onto her back and knelt between her thighs, she smiled at him. Whatever their past or their future, they would have this moment of belonging. This was where they were destined to be—joined as one.

  He entered her slowly, easing into her tight, waiting heat. The cords in his neck bulged and his muscles tensed in both pleasure and restraint. He cupped her breasts, teasing her nipples until she found herself beginning the journey again.

  He
withdrew only to enter her, deeper, harder, faster, pushing her higher. She surged with him, gripping his hips to express what her lack of breath wouldn’t let her say. How much she wanted him. How much she needed him.

  And when his body paused on the brink of completion and she found herself soaring with him, she managed to find her voice long enough to whisper how very much she loved him.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Brady lay in the warm bed and listened to the sounds from the shower. A quick glance toward the window showed him it was barely dawn. After last night he supposed he should be tired. He and Randi hadn’t slept much. They’d turned to each other again and again, making love, exploring, touching, holding as if this was to be the best time they would ever have.

  Or the last.

  He pulled her pillow over and slid it behind his back as he sat up. Was it their last time? He didn’t have an answer. In the magical moments of her release, she’d whispered that she loved him. He wanted to believe she told the truth. He wanted to say the words himself. But he wasn’t sure. Was it him, or the danger of the moment? Had they joined together because their hearts and bodies could no longer deny intense feelings, or were they reacting?

  She’d turned the shower off. He stared expectantly at the door, picturing her all damp and pink, wondering how he could want her again so quickly. He wouldn’t have thought his body capable of so much passion. Certainly Alicia had never inspired him to such a level of performance.

  She hadn’t inspired him to love, either. Looking back, comparing what he’d felt for his former fiancée to what he felt for Randi, he realized if this was love, the emotion was new to his life. With Alicia, he’d obsessed. With Randi, he wanted to belong. With Alicia, he’d experienced passion and pleasure, even some fun times. With Randi, he felt the connection down to his soul, as if by being together, they’d bonded on a cellular level. Whatever happened in the future, he would not be able to move on easily. She would always be a part of him.

  The bathroom door opened and she stepped out into the bedroom. As he’d pictured, she was damp and glowing. She’d wrapped her long hair in a towel piled on her head. Another barely covered her torso. Long pale legs tempted him, and it was all he could do not to throw back the sheets and invite her into bed. But the worry in her eyes made him ignore the throbbing desire between his thighs.

 

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