Boldly, she reached for his necktie, tugged at the knot until it released. “There. Isn’t that better?” She whipped the necktie away and sent it sailing to the floor. “Don’t you feel…freer?”
His mouth twisted in a grin and he spread his legs, his hands braced on his hips. “My neck’s not the part of me feeling constrained, Texas.”
Emma laughed. She couldn’t help it. “I feel so…alive.”
He groaned. “You’re killing me.”
She approached him, trailed her finger down his chest toward the part of him that so obviously yearned to be free and said, “Make love to me, Dair.”
It was all the encouragement he needed. He swept her up into his arms and carried her into his bedroom. She had a vague impression of a huge mattress and midnight-blue bed hangings, but her focus remained on the heated intensity of his gaze.
He burned her. Made her burn. Emma flushed with heat as he lay her on the soft pillow of his mattress. Arousal pounded in her blood as she saw the pulse throb at his neck. He needed. Her. Her! Emma. Not Widow Tate. Not even the McBride Menace. Dair MacRae needed the Emma she’d always longed to be.
This was a dream, she thought. An illicit fantasy where everything was possible. Where anything was permitted. And Emma was committed. It would take blood or smoke or fire to chase her from his arms, from his bed. And maybe, not even that.
As he moved above her, settled against her, and captured her mouth in a desperate kiss, Emma knew that this was the excitement she’d craved. Dair MacRae was her escapade. Her adventure.
He groaned into her mouth, and his hands began to work their magic. She would take tonight, enjoy this little slice of fantasy, then return home to Texas wickedly renewed. And on the long, lonesome nights to come, she could pull out the memory of tonight and of the time she drove a dangerous man wild.
Her hands clutched his shoulders as he slowed his kisses. He played with her mouth and tongue in a way that stole her breath and tempted her in ways she’d never imagined. Reckless desire hummed through her like a song.
She whimpered, delving her fingers into the silky hair at his nape. Hers. For this night, this man was hers. Her lover. Imagine that. If Dair hadn’t been nibbling on her earlobe, she might have laughed aloud.
But Emma couldn’t laugh. She couldn’t speak. She could barely breathe. Especially when his tongue ran over the whorl of her ear.
“Emma,” he murmured. “What do you like? What do you want?”
“You. Just you.” She couldn’t kiss him deeply enough. She needed more. More of him. All of him. His mouth, his hands. His body. Just when she thought she’d melt into a puddle, Dair pulled back. He cupped her face with his hands. His eyes had darkened, gone nearly black. Deep. Mysterious. Beautiful.
Then something flashed in those dark depths, an emotion Emma couldn’t quite place. Regret? Concern?
Oh, no. He wasn’t going to stop, was he? He hadn’t up and decided he was taking advantage of a lonely widow or something stupid like that. That conscience he denied hadn’t raised its ugly head, had it?
Good heavens. She had to do something. Now!
Emma smiled a seductress’s smile, full of promise, brimming with wickedness. “Take off your clothes, MacRae. I want to see you.”
Dair’s breath was backing up in his lungs. He held on to his control by a thin, frayed thread, one that grew more ragged with every brush of her finger, every whiff of her scent. When was the last time a woman had affected him this way? Had him ready to fall on her and plunder, driven by a need that pulsed in his veins like a drumbeat. He couldn’t recall. But then, he could barely think at all.
He yanked at the buttons of her ball gown, tore at her laces, ripped the delicate silk of her underclothes. He wanted…no, he needed…her naked skin. Her soft, satiny skin pressed against his.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, drinking in the sight of her, ivory skin against midnight-blue sheets. The ruby necklace nestled between full, coral-tipped breasts. A waist he could span with his hands. Round hips. Legs the perfect length to wrap around him and that tempting burnished-gold triangle…God. Desire balled in his stomach like a fist.
Dair struggled to slow down, to take his time and enjoy the moment. He lowered his head and kissed her again, tasting her with soft kisses, caressing her face with light fingers, all the while trying to keep the hammering need for her in check. He nipped at her full lower lip, tugging gently between his teeth. Without stopping his attentions, he slid his hands slowly from her face and traced down to her breasts.
“Perfect,” he breathed against her swollen lips. “You are perfect.”
He lowered his head to take one taut nipple into his mouth.
Emma arched up against Dair as he suckled, her earthy cry stoking the primal instinct burning inside him. She was his. This beautiful, spirited, most special woman was his for the taking. The knowledge pushed him over the edge.
Gripped by urgency, he stripped off his own clothing and climbed onto the bed, onto her, her sigh of pleasure at the contact a sonata to his ears. She was soft to his hard. Silk where he was rough. She was wet for him. Ready for him. Dair gave in to instinct and growled.
His hands went everywhere. Stroking, brushing, exploring. Up along her arms, across her shoulders, circling her breasts. Her creamy skin quivered and shuddered at his touch. He trailed a finger down the center of her torso past her navel toward the prize he intended to claim. Her hips moved restlessly and a needy groan escaped her throat. Her legs spread and Dair closed his eyes and sucked in a breath, summoning every ounce of his control to resist the invitation.
Too fast. Too soon. He wanted this to last.
Apparently, Emma didn’t have his patience. Betraying her frustration, she reached for him, but Dair caught her wrists and pinned her to the bed as he captured her mouth in a deep, erotic kiss. He lingered there, his tongue plunging and playing until her muscles went limp. He skimmed his lips along her jaw, then paused to savor her throat.
Dair wanted to taste every inch of her, to sample and feast of her flavors. Tart. Sweet. Spicy. Arousing him beyond imagining. She smelled of roses and woman, and Dair indulged himself in her scent.
“Dair,” she whimpered, her voice thready with need.
“Mmm,” he murmured as he kissed his way down her body, tracing the path his hands had taken moments before. Teasing them both, just like before, by avoiding the banquet he desired most.
Emma thrashed against the mattress. Whimpering. Dair almost echoed her as he continued the wickedly delicious torture. He gently nipped the inside of her thighs. Licked the back of her knees. Nibbled at her toes. Finally, she rose up on her elbows and begged, “Please!”
He shifted his gaze, spied the desperation in her eyes, and grinned. Her reaction caught him by surprise. Emma bared her teeth and growled at him, a sexy she-cat with fire in her eyes that mesmerized him so completely that he never saw her coming until she launched herself at him, knocking him onto his back.
He couldn’t get his breath, not as a result of the force of her blow, but from her sensual assault.
Emma evidently believed in the axiom that turnabout was fair play. Her hands smoothed across his body, her clever fingers learning him, tracing the curve of his muscles beneath his skin. She tangled her fingers in the hair on his chest, scraped her nails across his sensitive nipples, then teased her way down toward his groin. He groaned when he realized her mouth was tracing the same trail.
Dair’s blood was liquid fire racing through his veins. His body ached, yearning to the point of pain as his hips thrust forward instinctively. Emma shifted above him. He sensed her hovering hand, felt the warm caress of her breath on his shaft, and Dair shuddered.
Her voice came out low and raspy. “I haven’t been with a man in almost ten years, MacRae.” She ran the tip of her finger over his throbbing penis. “It’s cruel of you to tease me.”
Cruel? If he was cruel, then she was downright sadistic. “Emma, you don’t have to—”
“I want to.” She smiled again, that she-cat grin. “I’m going to.”
Then, she gently cupped his sac, lowered her head and trailed her tongue up the length of him. When she dragged her lips over the supersensitive skin of his swollen head, she sent Dair sailing over the edge.
With a violent shout, he lifted her, rolled her onto her back and plunged into her tight, wet sheath. Emma groaned with delight and rose to meet him, taking him deep. Dair wanted to stop, to stay, to immerse himself in the pleasure of the moment, but nature had its claws in him and wouldn’t be denied.
She arched against him, meeting him thrust for thrust. His hand fisted into her hair as her nails bit greedily into his back. Faster and faster they moved, driving higher. Harder. Sprinting for the crest. Dair’s breath came in pants; her voice in mewling whimpers and encouraging whispers that edged him further toward their mutual need. When she lifted her legs and locked them around him, her name exploded from his lips like an oath. Dair thrust one last time, then emptied himself into her.
When he collapsed atop her, Emma let out a little sigh. Not, he realized, a necessarily satisfied sigh.
Well, hell. Dair had just enough energy to lift one corner of his mouth in a rueful grimace. For a man well-known on at least three continents for his seductive personality, his sexual techniques and his physical stamina, he’d been sadly lacking all around. The poor woman hadn’t been bedded in a decade and he lasted all of what, five minutes? Eight at the outside?
Embarrassment, hell, even a bit of guilty shame slithered through him like a snake. Now, that was a new one. Dair seldom felt shame under any circumstance and never while in bed with a woman. He didn’t like the sensation one damned bit. I’ll make it up to her. As soon as I can move.
Lying atop her, Emma’s softness cradled him, her scent surrounded him, her breathing gave him comfort. He didn’t really want to move—even if he could find the strength.
So, he wouldn’t hurry. He’d give her a night she’d never forget. He’d devote himself to pleasing her, fulfilling her every desire, indulging her every fantasy. He’d stay with her until dawn.
That’s something he never did with the women he bedded. Dair enjoyed women, enjoyed sex, but he always slept alone. Not that he’d do any sleeping with Emma McBride tonight. No, sleeping could wait until tomorrow when he was ensconced in Jake Kimball’s comfortable coach headed north, her ruby necklace tucked away inside his pocket.
Such a plan would well suit his purposes, now that he considered the idea. Pleasantly exhausted, she’d undoubtedly sleep late, and by the time she awakened to discover her necklace missing, he’d be well on his way to Scotland. It tied everything up quite nicely, he decided.
Ah, the sacrifices a man must make.
Buoyed by his plan, Dair levered himself up onto his arms and smiled down at Emma. “All right, then, Texas, now that I’ve taken the edge off, how about we get back to business?”
“You mean…we’re not finished?”
“I’m not. Were you?”
“No!” she was quick to say. “I just thought…that is…”
Heavy and hard once again, Dair made his point with a long, slow stroke. “Oh…” she breathed on another sigh. This time, the glimmer of satisfaction was there, along with a strong note of anticipation.
Renewed and recharged, Dair applied himself to his chosen task. He touched her where he wanted, which was everywhere. Soon she was trembling beneath him, her lips full and swollen from his steady, relentless attention, her nipples pointed and wet from his tender care, her skin sleek and damp and glowing with arousal. He took her up quickly the first time, his hands and mouth greedy and unrelenting. He watched, fascinated, as her skin flushed and her eyes glazed when she shattered, screaming, the proof of her pleasure flowing over his hand like honey.
Satisfaction rolled through him as she returned to earth, sobbing, but smiling. There you go, Texas, he thought with a certain sense of smugness. He’d redeemed himself quite well. She’d totally lost control.
And so it began, and continued, throughout the night, lasting longer and offering more than even Dair had imagined. Her enthusiastic response, her absolute trust and her complete surrender breached his defensive barriers and destroyed them. That piece of himself he always held apart during lovemaking blended with the rest leaving Dair completely engaged, totally enthralled. He forgot he was doing this for her.
Somewhere along the way, the night became not Emma’s night to remember, nor even Dair’s night to recall. Somewhere along the way, it became their night together. They became one.
IN THE HAZY SHADE OF DAWN as Emma lay sleeping, Dair slipped from the bed and silently dressed. He reached for the ruby necklace, then hesitated as that peculiar, unusual sensation of shame came slithering back.
For a long moment, he stood frozen, uncertain and unsure, until the nagging pressure of headache he’d tried to ignore for the past hour reminded him of the reality of his future. Or rather, his lack of a future.
He thought of the orphans and his responsibilities there. He considered the mystery and coincidence surrounding Emma’s necklace. If something was there…
He could find another person to run the children’s home, but the promise of this necklace was unique. He knew it deep in his bones.
He reached out to touch her one last time. The soft curve of her cheek, the silken splendor of her hair. But no. He couldn’t touch her again. He didn’t deserve the pleasure.
Dair dropped Emma’s necklace into his pocket and quit the room.
CHAPTER SIX
RAYS OF SUNSHINE BEAMED through the window glass and warmed Emma’s skin, tugging her from sleep. Without opening her eyes, she stretched lazily beneath the covers, cozy as cat in a basket beside the fire. Her body felt stiff and sore in places that had forgotten they could feel stiff and sore. A smug, sated smile stretched across her lips as she finally opened her eyes. To an empty room.
Relief washed over Emma as she sat up and touched the cool sheets beside her. He’d left the bed some time ago. Good.
Call her a coward, but she didn’t want to face him yet. Last night, she’d acted like a true McBride Menace, albeit a grown-up one. She’d been brazen and bold and shameless. Why, she would have made her grandmother proud!
Her father, however, would have a different outlook. “Well, Papa,” she said into the silence of the room. “You aren’t here.”
Thank God.
Surprisingly, Emma felt no shame this morning. Well, maybe just a little. Her wantonness did go against every principle she’d been taught, every moral truth she believed in. Her mother wouldn’t approve of her actions, but then, Jenny had Papa. She didn’t know what it was like to sleep alone, night after night, year after year. Maybe later Emma would feel worse about her actions, but right now, she simply felt too good to feel bad.
Although, she was glad to have some time to think before she faced Dair again. She needed to understand her own emotions so she’d know how to react to him. Not that she’d have much time to do the reacting. She’d promised Kat they would leave today.
Maybe you won’t even have to see him again.
That thought certainly left her with mixed emotions. The idea of sneaking off without having to face him for an awkward morning after had a real appeal. The idea of leaving Chatham Park without ever seeing him again left her feeling bereft.
“Oh, hang it all,” she muttered as she threw back the bedcovers and headed for the water closet adjacent to Dair’s bedroom where she found the day’s first sign of his presence. He’d left her a single red rose atop a clean change of clothing. Emma smiled at his consideration and sniffed the rose. She’d save it. Press it as a memory, and take it out on rainy afternoons, thinking of the man who called her Texas.
Setting the flower aside, she washed and dressed, her thoughts in a whirl. Of course, she wouldn’t leave without talking to Dair. She needed to see him one more time. She wanted one last look at those eyes, his smile. So, she
’d face him and she’d thank him for a lovely night. Period. She wouldn’t have to go into detail. She need not tell him how wonderful he’d been or how delicious he’d made her feel. Frankly, she’d told him all that nonverbally last night.
So, she had a plan. One that made sense. She’d speak to him, then she’d pack up her memories and her sister and she’d head home to Texas, happy to have experienced such a phenomenal man, such a marvelous adventure.
Better do it sooner rather than later. He was the type of man she could fall for if given half the chance. Fall for hard.
“Not what I need,” she murmured as she picked up the hairbrush he’d left with the clothing. Dair seemed like the type of man who’d never settle for home and hearth, and as much as Emma had enjoyed her adventure, adventure is merely that. Family was real. Family was forever.
She stood in front of a mirror while she brushed her hair, debating which hairstyle would work best to cover up the love bite on the side of her neck. Although, she thought, smiling, maybe she shouldn’t cover it up. Maybe she should pin up her hair and dare someone to comment.
Kat was sure to spot it right off, and she’d more than likely give Emma a piece of her mind because of it. Her sister hadn’t always been so distrustful of men, but ever since she found herself with child by a scoundrel, she—
“Oh.” The hairbrush slid from her hand and banged against the floor. “Oh, Holy Hannah. What was I thinking!”
They’d taken no precautions last night. She’d been prepared, had the sheaths her grandmother had given her in her evening bag. Monique always believed in being prepared. But when Dair asked her to go upstairs with him, she’d forgotten all about them! How could she have been so foolish? She was almost thirty years old, for goodness’ sake. She’d witnessed that particular lesson firsthand watching Kat become an unwed mother. Kat, who’d at least had the excuse of believing herself married at the time.
What would she do if she turned up pregnant?
You’d have the baby you’ve always wanted. The child you didn’t get to have with Casey.
Her Outlaw Page 8
