When she opened it, all Rick saw was a filmy blue gown that immediately fired up his imagination again.
All he needed.
He took a step back. “Uh, looks like it’s stuff for you.”
She lifted a pair of black silk briefs. “I think these would be for you.”
He snatched them out of her hand. “Uh, yeah. That’s great. I’ll take a shower.” A cold one.
“Here’s some jeans and a shirt, your boots,” she said, digging through the suitcase. “I don’t see any pajamas.”
Rick snorted, unable to control his humor. “No, I guess not. I don’t wear pajamas.”
He watched in fascination as her cheeks heated up.
“Oh.”
“Is there a change of clothes for you?” he quickly asked, hoping to relieve her embarrassment.
“Yes.” She lifted a dress from the bag and held it against her. It wasn’t formal like her suit. He could tell it was going to cling to her, softly enhancing her curves.
Underneath the dress was some lacy underwear. When Megan realized that, she dropped the dress back to the suitcase and slammed the lid. “Everything I need.”
“Okay,” he agreed, clearing his throat again. “Good.” He reached up and untied the tux’s bow tie. It was getting too tight.
His action caught her attention. “I didn’t know you were going to wear a tux. Thank you. I’m sorry you had to take so much time to get one.”
He frowned. “Time? It didn’t take any time.”
“Didn’t you have to drive into Lubbock?”
Still distracted by her beauty, he shook his head no and added, “Cal and I both had them.”
She frowned at him.
“Well, if you’ve got everything you need, I’ll, uh, see you in the morning.”
He began backing away from her, but she stopped him.
“The bathroom is in there, if you want—you can go first.” She lifted the lid and reached back into the suitcase. “Here’s your toothbrush.”
He grabbed it and was on his way to the bathroom when he heard a gasp. He spun around. “What is it?”
“Nothing!” she protested, but her cheeks were bright red.
“Megan?” He moved in her direction and she held up a hand.
It took him a minute to realize she was holding a package of condoms. “Man, they really did think of everything.”
“I can’t believe—”
Rick chuckled. “Just picture one of those ladies purchasing those condoms. That I would’ve paid to see.”
Megan tried to hide her amusement, but her lips quivered with laughter. “They probably were as comfortable as I would be.”
“Ah. So you’re not a swinger?”
Megan didn’t think she could be more embarrassed. “No!”
“I didn’t think so, or I wouldn’t be sleeping on the couch,” he said with a gentle smile.
“I can take the couch if you think you’ll be uncomfortable.”
“No, sweetheart, I’ll take the couch.” Then he entered the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Megan stood there, staring at the closed door, startled by the regret that filled her. She’d never been a believer in sexual promiscuity. So why was she wishing she could throw her caution and restraint out the window now?
Because her bridegroom was a sexy man. And a great kisser. That was all. It was lust. And that wasn’t a good reason to break her promises to herself. But it certainly was a temptation.
She sank onto the bed with a sigh. All she could do was wait for Rick to return to the living room. The only nightgown in the suitcase was that sheer, frothy thing that hid nothing from view. She certainly couldn’t put that on until she had absolute privacy.
The door to the bathroom opened and Megan sprang to her feet, as if sitting on the bed in Rick’s presence was too dangerous.
“I’m going to wait until morning for my shower,” he explained. Keeping his distance from the bed, he edged his way to the door. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Wait!” she called and then took a step back as he spun around, an eager expression on his face.
“You’ll need a pillow and some cover.”
His arms were full with his change of clothes and toothbrush, so Megan gathered the pillow and one of the blankets from the foot of the bed and came toward him. “I’ll fix your bed for you.”
“I can manage.”
“It’s the least I can do,” she assured him, concerned about the roughness of his voice. Was he angry with her?
They both walked into the sitting room and Megan eyed the couch, as a bed for Rick, for the first time. It was an antique settee. It didn’t even look comfortable for sitting, much less sleeping.
“You can’t sleep here,” she said flatly.
“I’ll manage,” he grumbled. Putting his load down on the coffee table, he reached for the bedding.
But she clutched it to her chest. “I’m serious, Rick. You’ll be up all night.”
He glared at her. “I probably will be anyway.”
“Why? Aren’t you tired?”
“Damn it, Megan, don’t you know anything about men?” he demanded, his hands on his hips, the tuxedo shirt unbuttoned halfway.
Megan thought he’d never looked more handsome. But she did know something about men, and a closer examination told her that he was aroused.
“Oh.”
He gave her a wry grin. “Yeah. So I’ll sleep here.”
“But I’m shorter. I could—”
“No!”
Suddenly, she’d reached her limit. “Fine! Be hardheaded and suffer! See if I care.” She dropped the bedding at his feet and stormed back into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
Then leaned against the door, her shoulders sagging, feeling sorry for herself and her husband. They were doing the right thing, trying to protect Torie and Drew. Why did the right thing have to be so painful?
Slowly, she prepared for bed, her limbs heavy as her thoughts dwelled on Rick. When she donned the negligee, it’s silky folds sliding over her skin, she couldn’t help going to the bathroom to stare in the mirror.
She liked the way she looked and wished—no, she couldn’t share her pleasure with Rick. Then she would be a tease. Rick was suffering enough with that ridiculous excuse for a sofa in the next room.
Sliding into the big, comfortable bed, she felt doubly guilty as she continued to think of Rick. There was plenty of room. But the reminder he’d given her when she’d insisted he couldn’t sleep there kept her still.
Their marriage was not real. They were going through all this for the children. She should be thinking about Torie and Drew instead of Rick.
She tried. She pictured Torie playing house, having a tea party with her dollies and Aunt Megan. Cuddling up in her arms. Drew, pulling himself up, so proud of his accomplishment before landing on his bottom, a look of surprise on his face.
Those thoughts brought a smile to her face and a relaxation to her body. But as she turned on her side and clutched the pillow closer, the last thought she had was that of her handsome husband kissing her at the altar.
IT WAS A rough night.
Rick tried to get comfortable on the sofa from hell. It might as well have been a bed of nails.
He’d stripped to his underwear, in hopes of getting some sleep. That hadn’t helped.
Then he’d gotten up and paced for an hour, figuring he’d tire himself out. Once he’d even gently opened the door to the bedroom. In the shadows, he saw Megan curled up under the cover, her beautiful hair spread across the pillow, sleeping peacefully.
He’d closed the door and muttered a few curse words.
Not to Megan. It wasn’t her fault she was such an innocent, undisturbed by the events of the day. She hadn’t had a bad marriage.
He remembered the panic he’d felt at the altar, and her warm touch that distracted him. He grinned. She’d been trying to reassure him. And had. His ex-wife hadn’t had a single th
ought for anyone but herself from their wedding day on.
Megan was different. She married for the children. And she was concerned about his feelings. And she turned him on like no other woman.
He’d slept with his wife before their wedding. He had been attracted to her. But it was nothing compared to what he felt when he kissed Megan.
He should’ve kissed her before the wedding.
Then he would’ve known he couldn’t marry her. It made him want her too much. And the more he kissed her, the more he wanted her.
He’d keep his distance from now on. Taking care of his herd, his ranch, that would distract him. Until he rode in at night to find Megan waiting for him in a clean house, good food on the table, a smile on her lips.
He groaned.
Hell, he was going to be in a constant fight with his hormones.
Weariness suddenly filled him. With a wrathful glare at the sofa, he sank onto it and sighed. He never had liked antiques. Now he hated them.
Doubling his knees up so his feet didn’t hang off the end, he covered himself with the blanket. At least the pillow was comfortable.
He gradually drifted off, only to reawaken every time he extended his legs. He’d punch his pillow and settle again. Only to awaken again.
And each time he came to, his mind traveled a few feet into the bedroom, wishing he were in that big comfortable bed, next to a certain, warm body.
Only he wasn’t thinking about sleeping.
Chapter Eight
A distant ringing pierced his sleep, but he couldn’t quite raise his eyelids. He hadn’t gotten much rest.
Until the door to the bedroom swung open and a frantic Megan whispered, “Rick, come get in the bed!”
He snapped awake at once and leaped to his feet, pulling her against him as she reached his side, his lips covering hers.
Megan was stunned by Rick’s reaction. He must not yet be awake. She pushed against him, twisting her lips away from his. “No, Rick!”
He frowned as he opened his eyes. “No? But you said—”
“The lady is bringing up our breakfast. She said to stay in bed. She’d use her key.” While she explained, she was gathering up the blanket and pillow, still warm from his large body—now covered only in a pair of white briefs.
Suddenly tongue-tied, Megan backed away, clutching the bedding.
In the silence, they both heard footsteps in the hallway.
Megan found her voice again. “Grab your clothes!” and she raced for the other room. She tossed Rick’s pillow onto the bed beside hers, kicked the blanket under the bed and slid into place, doubling her pillow to support her.
Rick rushed in behind her, dumping his clothes and boots on the nearest chair. Then he got in the bed with her.
“Damn! What time is it?” he muttered.
The vibrations of his voice and the warmth of his body stopped her from answering. An echo of what must’ve been a dream filled her head. Had she imagined him beside her during the night?
At least with the cover over him, she didn’t have to stare at all of his magnificent body. Only the upper portion of his chest was exposed to view.
Which was still more skin than she wanted to deal with. Because the compulsion to touch him, to warm her hands against him, was almost more than she could control.
“Good morning!” their hostess sang out just before she entered the bedroom.
Megan sank down a little lower under the cover, so that even her shoulders didn’t show.
“Uh, good morning,” Rick responded, then cleared his throat again.
Megan wondered if he was getting sick. He’d cleared his throat a lot last night, too. But she had more important things to think about right now.
“I hope you two were comfortable,” the lady offered, but there was a knowing grin on her face that brought color to Megan’s cheeks.
Fortunately, Rick wasn’t as tongue-tied as her. “Very comfortable,” he assured the woman. “This is a great bed.”
“Yes, it is.” With a wink, she added, “It doesn’t squeak. I’m sure you noticed.”
“Uh, yeah,” Rick agreed, while Megan wished she could hide her head under the covers.
“I’ll just set the tray over here,” the innkeeper said, indicating the desk that stood near the window. “And you can eat at your leisure. No need to check out for another couple of hours in case you want to rest a little longer.” She winked again and excused herself.
Megan didn’t move as she listened for the second door to close. She feared if she stirred, she might accidentally bump into Rick’s long legs beneath the cover. And who knew what would happen then.
After a couple of minutes of absolute silence, Rick muttered, “Man, this bed is really comfortable.”
The fact that he sounded drowsy, comfortable, content, was as frightening as his words were irritating. After the adrenaline rush from the phone call and subsequent events, Megan expected something a little more to the point.
“That’s all you’ve got to say?” she demanded, sitting up and pushing back the cover.
“Well, I could add that you look really good in that nightgown,” he drawled, a grin on his face.
She snatched the cover up to her chin. How could she have forgotten?
Glaring at him, her heart suddenly lurched. Not only did he look sexy, but he also looked exhausted. “I’m sorry. Was the sofa really uncomfortable?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said with a sigh, letting his eyelids fall.
He said nothing else and Megan watched him, letting herself drink in the sight of him in her bed. His ex-wife must’ve been crazy to let this man get away. What more could a woman want?
She answered her own question. She could want honesty, honor and…and a man who loved her.
At least Rick was honest. And he seemed to be honorable. For a pretend marriage, that was all she could ask for. He was a simple man who worked hard.
And owned a tux.
She frowned. She’d intended to ask him about that last night, but other things had gotten in the way. She could understand Cal owning a tux. He’d lived in Dallas and was a wealthy man.
But Rick? Supposedly he was a rancher on a tight budget. Why would he need to own a tuxedo? And what about all that computer equipment he had? The downstairs bedroom was more than an office. It was a technology center.
It was like finding NASA’s space exploration equipment at a small-town airport. Maybe Rick wasn’t as simple a man as she’d thought. Maybe he was hiding something, as her ex-brother-in-law had.
She shuddered as fear built in her. She opened her mouth to ask him some questions but was halted by a soft snore.
He’d gone to sleep?
So much for thinking he wanted her. So much for fearing her scandalous nightgown would drive him crazy. So much for…
“Be grateful,” she whispered to herself. She hadn’t wanted to fight him off, had she? Memory of that sudden kiss when she’d awakened him filled her. She’d longed to lean into him, to surrender to the passion that filled her. But she’d been too worried about what was about to happen.
Yes, she should be grateful that he’d fallen asleep. Because it wouldn’t take a lot of effort on his part to persuade her to abandon her rules. To convince her that sharing his passion wouldn’t hurt anything.
To give herself up to the urges he created in her, overpowering urges that took a lot of determination to counteract.
Very carefully, she slid from beneath the covers. When he didn’t move, she opened the suitcase and gathered up the new underwear and dress and tiptoed to the bathroom. She could have her shower and be properly dressed before she ate any of the breakfast.
And Rick could have some extra sleep in the comfortable bed, to make up for the night on the sofa.
“RICK? RICK?”
A warm hand on his shoulder, as well as the soft voice, slowly roused him. He rolled over and opened one eye. “Yeah?”
“It’s eleven-thirty. We need to check out at noon
. If you want a shower and some breakfast, you’d better get moving. I’ll wait in the other room.”
Megan, dressed in the pale blue dress with small sprigs of flowers that clung to her body, as he’d imagined it would, began backing away from the bed.
“Have you eaten breakfast?” he asked, his mind catching up with his body.
“Yes. But there’s plenty left for you, even if it is a little cold.”
He sighed. “Why don’t you carry the tray to the other room and I’ll join you as soon as I shower.” When she frowned, he added, “I’m not fond of eating in bed.” He could’ve added alone, because the thought of eating his breakfast beside Megan, wearing that nightgown, might’ve been fun.
“Okay,” she quickly agreed and picked up the tray.
As she moved toward the door, he shoved back the cover. “I’ll get the door for you.”
She whirled around, almost losing the contents of the tray. “No! I’ll get it.”
Oh, yeah. He’d forgotten he wasn’t wearing any pants. Megan seemed upset about that. “Okay,” he agreed, staying in place while she juggled the tray to open the door. When the door closed behind her, he relaxed once more against the pillow.
Some wedding night. His body ached, but not for the right reasons.
Shoving back the cover, he sat on the edge of the bed. He shouldn’t be this tired. He had gotten some sleep on the sofa, even if it had been intermittent. And the time spent in this bed had been restful.
He was surprised he’d been able to sleep so soundly with Megan beside him. He guessed it just proved how tired he’d been. Memories of how she’d looked in that blue gown, her eyes huge, sent heat through his body.
With a chuckle, he questioned whether it was the blue of the nightgown or the fear he’d grab her that had made her eyes look big.
It didn’t matter. This was the last time they’d share a bed, so he might as well forget it. A shower would help dismiss those kinds of thoughts from his mind.
A few minutes later, he appeared at the door to the sitting room, where Megan stood by the front window, her back to him.
The Great Texas Wedding Bargain Page 8