by Lara Lacombe
It was both exciting and sexy as hell to see this powerful man unravel before her eyes and to know that she was the cause. Her own arousal intensified as she watched him move, felt the warmth of his skin and the quivering tension in his muscles. She was half tempted to ditch her towel and climb into the tub with him, logistics be damned.
Thorne must have read her mind because he suddenly gripped her wrist, stilling her hand in midcaress. His eyes popped open, blazing with need.
“I can’t stand this much longer,” he said, the words clipped. “Are you going to put me out of my misery?” His hips shifted in an instinctive thrust that made his meaning perfectly clear, and Maggie laughed softly.
“Of course.”
She stood, intending to climb in with him. But Thorne held up his hand, stopping her before she could throw her leg over the side of the tub. “Not here,” he said. “I want you in a bed so I can do this properly.”
Her stomach flip-flopped at the promise in his voice, and a shiver of anticipation ran through her. He rose from the bath, water and soap suds sluicing down the solid planes of his body as he moved. Maggie’s gaze caught on a droplet of water, and she traced its path from his shoulder, across his chest and down the ridges of his stomach until it was lost in the hair on his muscled thigh. Her mouth went dry as she took in the magnitude of him, standing so close in the small space. The sight of him was overwhelming in the best way, all his masculine power making her feel decidedly feminine in comparison.
Thorne stepped carefully from the tub, his gaze never leaving hers as he reached for a towel. This close, she could feel the heat coming off his body, a testament to both the warmth of the bath and his arousal.
“The way you’re looking at me now makes me want to toss you over my shoulder and carry you down the hall.” His voice was a deep rumble that she felt as much as heard.
Maggie swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “I don’t think that would be very comfortable for either of us.”
He raised one eyebrow with a suggestive smile. “Maybe not. But I’m sure I can come up with an alternative.” He swiped the towel across his chest, then dropped it on the bath mat. His long fingers nimbly pulled the edge of her towel free, and a second later it joined its fellow on the floor. Then he reached for her hands and lifted them up and around his neck.
“Hold on,” he whispered. He bent at the knee and grabbed her waist, lifting her up until they were eye level. Maggie’s stomach lurched at the sudden change in position, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips.
Thorne hummed as her bottom made contact with his erection. “Perfect,” he said, his voice hot in her ear. He started walking, pausing only to pull open the bathroom door. Maggie felt a flash of self-consciousness as the cool air of the hall hit her flushed skin. What if Mac was home? They hadn’t exactly been paying attention to the outside world while they were in the bathroom. Had he come back with the promised food yet? She’d never live it down if Mac saw her clutching his son, the pair of them naked as jaybirds.
She was just about to say something to Thorne when he stopped in the hall and pivoted so her back was against the wall. He kissed her, claiming her mouth with an urgency that was all-consuming. Maggie lost herself in the kiss, her thoughts fragmenting until she was no longer certain what she’d been worried about in the first place.
Thorne broke the kiss a moment later. “Sorry,” he said, sounding a little breathless. “I just needed to kiss you and I couldn’t wait another second.”
Maggie smiled and cupped his face. “That’s fine by me. You can kiss me anytime you want.”
Thorne let out a low rumbling growl and leaned forward to nip her shoulder. A shiver ran through her and she sucked in a breath. “Be careful,” he said, pulling her away from the wall and turning to resume the journey to his bedroom. “I’m going to have to take you up on that offer.”
As he pushed open the door, Maggie was hit with a strong sense of déjà vu. It took her a second to figure out why, but as Thorne laid her gently on the bed, realization struck: this was the same way their encounter had started all those months ago, right down to the way he’d carried her to his room.
She let out a little laugh at the cosmic coincidence and Thorne paused over her, his eyebrow arched in question. “Does this seem familiar to you?” she asked, smiling up at him.
He considered the question, and Maggie could tell the moment the pin dropped for him, as well. His expression cleared, and his mouth formed a small O of surprise. “It does,” he confirmed. His hand slid to her belly, his touch warm and knowing.
Maggie expected him to follow her down to the bed, but Thorne remained standing, his eyes roaming over her body. There was no judgment in his gaze, but his perusal made her feel suddenly shy. The pregnancy had triggered a lot of changes in her body, and Thorne was getting an up close and personal look at every stretch mark and bulge.
She moved her hands to her stomach, trying to hide the dark vertical line that bisected her belly. But Thorne shook his head and circled her wrists with his fingers. He gently pulled her hands away, revealing her body to him once more.
“Let me look at you,” he said softly. “Please.”
He released her hands, giving her a choice. Maggie let them drop to her sides, feeling a little scared but also excited to share the outward signs of the baby with Thorne.
At first, he simply looked at her. She lay still, resisting the temptation to squirm as he studied her. His expression was curious, as if he was comparing her present features to the ones from his memory. And why wouldn’t he? She looked different, that was for sure. It was only natural he’d notice.
His fingertip grazed the silvery lines of the stretch marks on her hips and belly, tracing each one from end to end. His eyes shone with what might have been wonder, and he bent to press a soft kiss to her lips.
“Beautiful,” he whispered against her mouth. “So beautiful.”
Her skin warmed at the compliment, the last of her worries fading into insignificance in the face of his declaration. She threaded her hands behind his neck and welcomed his return into her heart and into her body.
Chapter 19
Thorne woke just before dawn. It was still dark outside, but the faint glow from the window next to the bed told him the day wasn’t far off.
He was halfway out of bed before he remembered he didn’t have to tend to the horses this morning. Mac had told him in no uncertain terms yesterday that he wanted Thorne to rest for a few days. But even though Thorne knew the other stable hands could take care of all the chores, he still felt guilty for lying about when there was work to be done.
He leaned back on the bed with a sigh, wincing as his lungs ached in protest. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt him to rest a bit after all...
He closed his eyes, wishing he could go back to sleep. But his lingering fatigue from yesterday’s excitement was no match for years of habit. For a moment, he considered getting up and starting the day; he might not be able to help with the horses, but there was still plenty to do on the ranch.
Maggie stirred next to him, and all thoughts of leaving the bed fled his mind. Work could wait. The woman he loved was lying warm and naked next to him—he’d be a fool to willingly leave her. Besides, he didn’t want her to wake up alone so soon after making love. There would be many mornings in their future when he’d have to leave before the sun came up. This didn’t have to be one of them.
Thorne carefully pulled her close, snugging her against his side where she belonged. He could definitely get used to waking up like this...
But could Maggie?
The thought struck like a bolt of lightning, shattering his sense of peace. Worry slammed down on him, making his stomach roil and his heart race. What if Maggie didn’t want this kind of life?
Thorne had assumed now that he and Maggie were toge
ther they would live here on the ranch. Maggie could move her office to one of the outbuildings, and the baby would grow up around the horses, playing under the wide blue sky and counting fireflies at dusk. He’d always thought he would raise his children in the country, away from the noise and grit of the city. But he realized now that Maggie might not feel the same way.
She lived in Shadow Creek and was totally unused to the rhythms of a working ranch. And while she’d been staying here for a bit, he’d seen her face in unguarded moments and knew she wasn’t happy. Lately, he’d noticed the lines of strain around her eyes and mouth, the pale cast to her skin. Part of it was likely due to the physical stresses of the pregnancy and her continued recovery from the effects of the explosion. But now he wondered if perhaps her mood wasn’t also affected by living here on the ranch. She undoubtedly missed her own apartment and her life in town. But could she learn to love it here as well?
He wanted to think so. But what if she hated it? What if the smells and sounds of a working ranch were just too unappealing? He couldn’t ask her to stay here if she would be miserable. Maggie’s state of mind was important to him, and he would do whatever it took to make sure she was happy.
Even if that meant moving.
He swallowed hard, his stomach hollowing out at the thought of leaving the ranch. The horses, the wide-open sky. And Mac. But he’d trade it all if it made Maggie smile. It would be hard, perhaps the most difficult thing he’d ever done. He’d grown up on this land, sometimes with only the horses for friends. But he could adjust to life in town, as long as Maggie was by his side. And he didn’t need to worry about his father, as far as the baby was concerned. Mac would definitely be a part of his grandchild’s life, no matter where Thorne and Maggie lived. It would be tougher for him to help his dad if he lived somewhere else, but Thorne could make it work.
If he had to.
Maybe it won’t come to that. It was possible he was overthinking the situation, since he and Maggie hadn’t even talked about living arrangements yet. He was probably just “borrowing trouble,” as Mac liked to say. He certainly hoped that was the case. But either way, it was a conversation he and Maggie needed to have, and the sooner the better. Life was only going to get busier from here on out, and he’d prefer they have some time to settle into their new life together before the baby was born.
He glanced at her face, relaxed and peaceful in sleep. It had been almost a year since he’d met her, standing in Mac’s office with her hair glowing like spun gold in the afternoon light. He’d been smitten from the start, especially after she’d turned those big blue eyes on him and smiled. She’d offered her hand, and he’d taken it without thinking, remembering a second too late he was dirty from chores. Mac had chided him, but Maggie hadn’t seemed to mind.
That was the moment Thorne had lost his heart. But he’d never thought for even a second he had a chance with such a beautiful, composed woman.
I am the luckiest man alive.
He stared down at her, wonder and awe filling his chest as he considered the amazing turn of events in his life. In just a few short months, everything had changed completely. He’d gone from being a shy loner to having the woman he loved by his side, their baby growing safely inside her. He was going to be a father! Sometimes it still didn’t feel real, but the proof of it was pressed against his hip, snug and warm.
Thorne wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve Maggie and the baby, but he was going to spend the rest of his life earning her love.
And he couldn’t wait to get started.
* * *
Mac was up and out of the house while dawn was still just a hint of pink in the eastern sky. He hadn’t slept well—he’d tossed and turned most of the night, plagued by images of the barn being consumed by flames. Fortunately, once the dust had settled he’d realized no one had been hurt, but it could have just as easily gone the other way. He couldn’t fault Thorne for going back in after Rose, but he didn’t like his son taking such dangerous chances. He was going to be a father now, and he couldn’t put himself at risk like that. Maggie and the baby would need him.
Mac had given the couple a wide berth last night. Whatever else had happened yesterday, it seemed Thorne and Maggie had turned a corner in their relationship. Mac was happy to see it—he didn’t know what had gone wrong between the pair of them, but he liked Maggie and he knew she was good for Thorne. She was the first woman Thorne had shown any kind of serious interest in, and he wanted his son to be happy. He’d spent too much time alone, feeling like an outsider in his own life.
After a quick visit with the horses, Mac saddled his usual mount and rode out to check the perimeter fences. He didn’t think there was a breach, but he needed to ride and he might as well do something productive while he was out. He’d always thought better while on the back of a horse, and hopefully this morning would be no exception.
The idea that Livia was targeting Thorne was enough to make his blood run cold. There was no love lost between him and Livia—not now, anyway. After she’d bought the ranch, he’d stayed on initially out of a sense of pride. The land had been in his family for generations. It didn’t matter what the bank said; he’d paid for the ranch with his blood, sweat and tears.
But it didn't hurt that Livia was a beautiful woman.
He'd noticed her right away; she had that effect on him. There was something electric about her, an alchemy of personality that drew him to her and made him want her.
If only she wasn't a married woman, he'd thought, on more than one occasion. But she was Wes Kingston's wife, and Mac had no interest in breaking up their marriage.
Until that fateful morning in the barn.
He shuddered, feeling the ghost of her touch on his skin. Almost twenty-nine years had passed, but the memory of it still felt fresh.
She'd run into one of the empty stalls, slamming the door behind her with a crash that startled the horses. She hadn't stopped to acknowledge him, and Mac realized she hadn't seen him as she'd raced past. He was content to let her be, but then he'd heard the muffled sound of crying.
His heart twisted as her quiet sobs filled the air. No woman should ever cry like that.
He quietly approached the stall, knowing he was playing with fire. The responsible thing would be to go get Wes. He was her husband, and he should be the one to comfort her.
But Mac couldn't bring himself to leave her when she was so upset.
So he'd carefully opened the stall door and found Livia sitting in the corner, her face buried in her hands.
"You okay?" he said gently.
She jerked and looked up, her tear-filled eyes wide.
"Sorry," Mac said. "I didn't mean to scare you."
"It's okay." Her voice was thick with emotion, but she offered him a watery smile.
Mac took a step inside the stall and let the door swing shut behind him. "What's got you so upset?"
Livia sniffed inelegantly, and he pulled out a well-worn bandana from his pocket. She took it with a nod and dabbed at her eyes and nose.
"It's nothing," she said.
Mac tilted his head to the side. "Doesn't look like nothing to me."
He was on dangerous ground here, and he knew it. The last thing he should do was get more involved with her. But he couldn't help himself. She drew him in, and he wasn't strong enough to resist.
She shook her head. "Wes and I got into a fight."
Warning bells went off in Mac's head, and he looked her over, searching for signs of abuse. Was Wes hurting her? "Did things get physical?"
She shook her head. "No, nothing like that."
Mac relaxed, relieved to know her husband wasn't hurting her. At least not physically.
"I think he's having an affair," she blurted out. Fresh tears welled in her eyes, and she dropped her head again, not bothering to mop them up.
/> Shock rippled through Mac at the news. Wes was cheating on her? What kind of an idiot was he? Livia was a beautiful, charming woman. Why would Wes want to step out with a mistress when he had such a gorgeous wife waiting in his bed at home?
"I'm so sorry," Mac said. Indignation began to rise in his chest, and he felt angry on her behalf. "He's an ass."
She huffed out a laugh, and he smiled despite the circumstances. "That he is," she murmured.
They stayed there talking for what seemed like hours, and the more time they spent together, the more Mac's crush intensified.
The relationship between them blossomed over the next few weeks. Livia visited him often in the stables, and he took her riding on several occasions. Any guilt he may have felt over getting so close to a married woman was absolved by Livia's assertion that her husband was cheating on her. Mac figured he was simply giving Livia the appreciation she was so clearly due.
For a few weeks, life was great. He got along well with Livia's children, and the two of them never seemed to run out of things to talk about. It was perfect, everything he'd ever wanted.
The night they'd finally made love had been one of the highlights of his life. He'd held her close in the aftermath, staring up at the stars and feeling like his heart would burst.
And then she told him they were over, and he’d come crashing back down to Earth.
"I can't do this anymore," she said, a few days later. "Wes wants to try to work on our marriage, and I think that's best for my family."
Mac had nodded dumbly, but inside he'd been screaming. His dreams were slipping through his fingers, but he could do nothing to save them. Livia had made her choice, and he couldn't force her to love him.
He'd packed his bags, knowing he couldn't stay and see her every day. It would hurt too much to be reminded of what they'd once shared.
