by Lori Foster
Yet here he was married. To Dana.
She certainly hadn’t come on to him for money, or for any of the other motives women had shown in the past. He’d offered her money and she’d refused. She staunchly insisted on keeping her independence, on supporting herself. She’d looked poleaxed when she discovered he’d bought her a ring, damn her, which had made him feel like an ogre. She should have known him better than that, and probably did, but she intended to stick to their agreement, which meant she expected nothing from him.
Except sex.
That fact had been eating away at his control all day. Playing the diligent bridegroom, touching her, kissing her, had added to his strain. Dana hadn’t noticed, but he’d been half-hard since the judge had proclaimed them man and wife.
He needed to get the upper hand again, and he might as well start right now.
“Dana?”
She glanced at him as if she’d forgotten he was there. “Yes?”
The chauffeur was pulling the limo around the curving drive to the front door. Lazily, R.J. leaned back in his seat and looked her over. “I had my housekeeper prepare your room for you. She’s put away all your clothes and the things that you sent over earlier. Anything else you need we can get later.”
“All right.”
She was too agreeable, and he didn’t like it. “It’s not very late yet, but all things considered, I thought you could take a brief tour of the house to familiarize yourself, then change into something more comfortable. We can have a drink out on the veranda and relax…before going to bed.”
He saw her slender, pale throat move as she swallowed, and he congratulated himself for taking her off guard. God knew, she’d kept him off guard since making her tantalizing demand. His head still reeled whenever he thought of it.
As she turned to look at him directly, he noticed that her green eyes were brighter than the emeralds she now wore. “I thought we agreed we’d share a room.”
Persistent witch. He kept his expression impassive and shrugged. “Our rooms connect, both by an inside door and the veranda. You’ll be free to come and go as you please. I thought you might appreciate the privacy for dressing and bathing and doing your hair and—” he gestured with his hand. “—whatever else it is women do on a daily basis.”
She nodded, again looking away from him.
He didn’t like her lack of attention, and gently, deliberately, added, “You don’t have to worry, Dana. I’ll be available to you when you want my end of the bargain met.”
Her gaze snapped back to his, and a rosy blush spread from her throat up. Intrigued, R.J. sat forward, keeping his eyes locked on hers, and slowly reached out to touch the emerald necklace with one finger. “Ah. Warmth. I did wonder if your blush was as hot as it appeared.” His finger stroked beneath the small stone, then all around it. He smiled, and a slight tension invaded his muscles. “Even the gold is heated,” he murmured.
Dana’s breathing accelerated, but it was nothing compared with his own reaction. He enjoyed touching her, seeing her respond so freely. Her eyes drifted shut, and he looked at her pale skin where his rough finger slowly glided, going lower and lower.
As usual, her blouse was fully buttoned, but this one had something of a modestly scooped neckline. He wondered whether she’d chosen it to show off the emerald or to attempt to seduce him. He almost chuckled. Dana was reserved enough to think a small glimpse of collarbone might be enticing.
Strangely enough, she was right.
The limo stopped and the driver got out. R.J. straightened back in his seat and watched Dana struggle to regain her composure. She was still breathing a little roughly, still fidgeting when the door opened and the driver offered an arm.
With a mumbled thank you she got out of the car, then turned to stone as she surveyed his house. R.J. watched her from the corner of his eye as he dispatched the driver. She looked positively stunned, taking in everything around her as if in disbelief. It was fairly dark, but he had installed lighting along the path and at key points around the grounds to draw focus to a particular plant or tree. The lights gave off a soft, muted yellow glow.
Stepping up behind her, R.J. put both hands on her shoulders and whispered near her ear, “What do you think of your new home?”
“Oh, it’s beautiful!” But she wasn’t looking at the house, only the gardens.
“So it’ll do?” he teased.
She stepped away to touch the feathery leaves of a young Chinese fan palm. R.J. had had several of them planted in staggered groups around the front of the property, to act as both a privacy fence and an ornamental border. There were also southern magnolia and crape myrtle trees, but it was November so they weren’t blooming. He wondered what she’d think of his house in the spring when every tree and bush was fresh and new with budding life, ripe with color.
Except she wouldn’t be here in the spring. By then, all the problems should be resolved, and he could resume his normal life.
A life without a wife.
“There are fruit trees in the back,” he told her, “and several flower gardens. This isn’t the best time of year to view the trees, but tomorrow I’ll show them to you, if you like.”
She turned to smile at him. “I’d love that. Thank you.”
Taking her arm, he led her along the cobbled walk toward the front doors, pointing out some of his favorite plants. “I like things to take their own natural shape rather than be pruned into little squares or circles. Everything is bushier and softer that way. This is a Camellia japonica.”
“It’s beautiful. And so many flowers.”
“The japonica has a very long season. And of course, those are hostas surrounding it. I prefer the halcyon for the bluish color. I just had them thinned out this fall, so they’re not as full as usual. But it gives the day lilies more room to spread.”
She stepped away onto another path lined with pansies of every color. “What’s that tree?”
R.J. put his hands in the pockets of his slacks and followed along, enjoying her enthusiasm, the heavy darkness of the night. Her scent drifted back to him, noticeable even among all the fragrant flowers.
The evening was pleasant, around seventy degrees, with a bright moon and a multitude of stars. The lighting system gave the yard the look of early dusk, but it left deep shadows in Dana’s bright green eyes. She looked…mysterious. “This one’s a pink dogwood. The flowers are gone, of course, but the leaves turn such a brilliant scarlet in fall, as you can see, so it’s always showy. One of my favorites.”
She took off again, getting farther and farther from the house. “And that one?”
With a low, pleased chuckle, R.J. followed. Then he answered all her questions, which were numerous.
It was almost half an hour later when it dawned on him that Dana had effectively sidetracked him from his plans. Here it was his wedding night, and his new bride had him ambling around the grounds of his house looking at shrubs and trees and various types of mulch. Hell, they’d even discussed underground watering systems. He felt like an ass, and worse, he felt strangely vulnerable.
Damn her. He didn’t like feeling out of control.
“Enough, Dana,” he said when she started to question him on the homemade bench placed beneath a trellis of lush purple clematis. He managed, just barely, to keep the annoyance and inner turmoil out of his voice. “Don’t you think it’s time we went inside? I’d like to show you your room.”
“Does my room have a view of the grounds?”
He caught her arm and started her back toward the path. Her French twist had begun to slip, and instead of being neatly anchored as usual, her hair looked softer and slightly tousled.
“Your room faces the back overlooking a fountain. There’s a row or two of Sparkle berry, which you’ll enjoy because they’re loaded with bright red berries right now, and the birds flock to them.”
She stepped away from him to turn a full circle, her arms outstretched, her face tilted to the endless sky above. “This i
s like a fairy-tale castle, R.J.,” she said in a breathless whisper, “with so many gorgeous plants and colors and scents. I feel like I could get lost out here. I had no idea you knew so much about gardening.”
That wasn’t much of a surprise, since no one, other than his housekeeper, knew about his fascination with plants and his affinity for digging in the dirt. And he preferred to keep it that way.
Why in hell he’d opened up so completely to Dana, he couldn’t guess.
She continued to stare into the star-studded sky, oblivious to his turmoil. If she’d been aware of it, he thought with a wry smile, he had no doubt she’d try to find a way to fix it for him.
For some reason, that thought perturbed him. She looked so happy and carefree, her fair hair glowing in the combined moon and lamp light, a few tendrils ruffled by the soft breeze, and suddenly he was restless, overcome by a vague longing. It was a wholly uncomfortable feeling, and he scowled. Snatching her hand as she twirled past once again, he pulled her against his chest and leaned down until their mouths were only separated by a breath.
“This is very private land, Dana. I know you haven’t bothered looking at the house, but I chose it for its isolation. If you’d like, we could have our wedding night right here, beneath the weeping willow with the begonias all around us. Would you like that?”
Her eyes widened, looking dark and deep in the dim light, and her mouth fell open. He took advantage of the moment to kiss her, knowing it would distract her and embarrass her and most likely excite her. He felt as if he could deal with any one of those emotions far easier than he could the naked happiness he’d read in her expression.
It was the first time he’d ever seen her look that way, and the look was incredibly potent.
She was stiff in his arms for about three seconds, then her hands slid up his shoulders to his head and she gripped his hair hard as a groan escaped her, her mouth moving against his, her body pushing into his. She nearly pulled his hair out as she tried to get closer. She accepted his tongue, then went one further and sucked on it. R.J. gasped, her passion both astounding and seductive. He caught her wrists and gently eased her hands away before she could do more damage to his scalp.
“Easy, sweetheart. I like my head where it is.”
She either didn’t hear or didn’t understand his teasing comment. Pressed full against him, she went on tiptoe and tried to find his mouth again. R.J. leaned back, laughing softly to himself. She was such a sweet surprise! As long as she was amusing him, there’d be no problem.
He cupped her face between his hands to gain her attention, then asked, “Is that a yes? Do you want to strip for me now and lie down on the soft grass? The air is a little fresh, but I think we’ll manage to stay warm enough once we get things started.”
Very slowly, awareness seeped back into her soft eyes. Her brows rose and her pupils flared. She scrambled out of his reach, crossing her arms over her chest in an oddly protective gesture that made him want to hold her again, gently this time, to comfort her.
“No.” She shook her head, and her hair threatened to come completely undone. One long tendril dropped down across her forehead, fascinating him and making her huff with impatience. “I have no intention of…of…”
He wanted badly to smooth her hair and started to do just that. “Frolicking among nature?” He knew he was obsessed with her hair, like a pioneer male waiting anxiously to get a glimpse of a woman’s ankle. Good God, it was only hair, and all women had it. It was just that Dana had always kept hers neatly pinned up, making his curiosity run wild.
She smacked his hand away before he could actually touch her. “It isn’t funny, R.J.!”
Neither was his throbbing erection, but he was dealing with it the best he could. Which was evidently far better than she could deal with her own arousal. Dana had a tendency to get snippy when she was turned on or sexually frustrated. He’d found that out each time he kissed her. He wondered what would happen when she could let all that passion loose, rather than struggle to restrain it.
He wondered what would happen tonight.
Smiling, he looped his arm around her shoulders and again tried to get her on the winding path that led to the front door. “No doubt Betty, my housekeeper, heard the limo and is waiting for us. She’ll have no idea what we’re doing out here.”
“That’s a relief!”
R.J. was feeling just contrary enough to give her a squeeze. “We’re married now, sweetheart. We can damn well cavort wherever we please.” And soon, he’d be cavorting with her in her bed, where he intended to leave her. He liked his privacy, whether she valued her own or not. He expected to consummate the marriage with as little fuss as possible, pleasing her, pleasing himself, but no more than that. He’d remain detached and efficient and he’d fulfill her demands while still keeping as much emotional distance from her as possible. It could be done; he’d had sex with any number of women without feeling a single thing beyond physical satisfaction.
And afterward he’d hold her until she dozed off, then retreat to his own room.
He liked sleeping alone, damn it, and he expected to go on liking it. He was thirty-nine years old and he’d never before been inclined to share his bed. He didn’t intend to start now.
If she wanted to repeat the procedure nightly, well, who was he to complain about an available lover? He’d always had a very healthy sex drive, and no doubt the arrangement would prove convenient.
She’d be happy with the bargain, damn her, and he’d still keep himself safe.
Betty was waiting at the door when they reached it, her large brown eyes curious, her hands clutched together at her rounded middle. She was more than twenty years his senior, but as spry as a teenager and as protective and bossy as a surrogate mother. When they neared, a wide smile broke out over her pleasant face.
“There you are! I wondered what happened to you.”
“Sorry if we worried you, Betty.” R.J. pressed Dana forward. “My bride showed an unexpected interest in the grounds.”
Dana reached a hand out. “Hello, Betty. I’m Dana Dillinger.”
R.J. made a tsking sound. “How soon they forget. It’s Dana Maitland now, love. At least, if that’s what you want.”
“Oh.” Dana looked almost bewildered as Betty took her hand in a warm welcome.
The housekeeper, who thought any outdoor activity was thoroughly heinous, gave Dana an inquiring look. “The grounds?”
“All the beautiful trees and shrubs,” Dana clarified.
“Oh, yes. Mr. Maitland does like puttering around outside.” Her nose had wrinkled slightly, and then she ushered them both inside. “Come on in, now. I have everything ready for you.”
To R.J.’s surprise, Dana didn’t show nearly as much interest in the interior of the house as she had the gardens. Not that his home was a design showpiece. It was a modest two-story, situated in a quiet location. He was only one man and had no need for a much larger place. When he’d chosen the house, which had been built at the turn of the century, but recently renovated, it had been for the privacy, the abundance of land and the architectural charm. He loved the arched doorways and wooden floors and trim, the wide back veranda and original windows. The place had been professionally decorated, and many of his furnishings were antique, in keeping with the age of the house.
Dana gave a cursory glance at the entrance hall, peeked into the dining room at the right and the living room at the left, then peered at the curving staircase.
Betty started in that direction, leading the way up the stairs. “Your bags arrived earlier, and I’ve already put everything away.” When they reached the top, she turned to the right to a pair of connecting bedrooms with private baths. To the left were two guest bedrooms and a hall bath.
“The kitchen is downstairs, just beyond the dining room,” Betty explained, “and at the back of the house is a den with a nice library, and a workout room that’s adjacent to an enclosed porch with a hot tub.”
She turned and sm
iled at them both. “Dana, your bathroom is right through that door. I put all your toiletries away so you shouldn’t have any trouble finding what you need. Here’s the closet, and I’ve already arranged all your things.” The door leading to R.J.’s room stood open.
He saw Dana bite her lip and knew she felt uncomfortable that Betty knew of the sleeping arrangements. He gave his housekeeper a hug and said easily, “Thanks, Betty, for staying late and for getting everything organized so well.”
She sent a stern look his way. “It’s not every day you get married, Mr. M., now is it? I was glad to stay and help out. Besides, I had to meet your bride! Having a woman in the house is going to be quite a change.”
“You’re a sweetheart. But we can manage from here, so you might as well head home. And, Betty, take the day off tomorrow, all right?”
She winked at Dana. “I was planning to! I’ve already put a casserole in the refrigerator, and there’s salad makings and a fresh-baked pie for dessert. The refrigerator is stocked with plenty of things for lunch, and I made sure no one else was set to come to work tomorrow.” In an aside to Dana, she explained, “Mr. M. has a regular man to mow the lawn and another to tend the pool and the hot tub. All things considered, I figured that could be put off for a couple of days.”
“Remind me to give you a bonus, Betty.”
“Ha! I’ll hold you to that.” She squeezed Dana’s hand again then bustled out the door, saying over her shoulder, “I’ll lock up on my way out.”
Betty was no sooner gone and the bedroom door closed softly behind her than Dana began to fidget. R.J. gave in to a private, very indulgent smile of satisfaction. Naturally she was nervous about being with him the first time, and that suited him just fine. He watched her walk to the window to look out into the garden below.
“How do you like your room?”
