The Bride Price

by Ginna Gray

  There in front of the warehouse, leaning against his car, legs crossed at the ankles, was Wyatt, watching her in that steady, determined way that sent a chill rippling through her.

  She had obviously underestimated him.

  Three weeks ago she had dismissed Wyatt’s warning with the cocky ease of a woman who had managed to remain heart-whole for all of her twenty-six years.

  She was a novelty to him, she had decided, a breed of female outside his experience, and therefore a challenge to his dominant nature. His reaction to her rejection had merely been a face-saving bluff to soothe his bruised ego. His remarks were not to be taken seriously.

  Maggie had chalked up her startling and intense response to him to nothing more than old-fashioned male-female chemistry. Annoying, but perfectly normal and healthy. Nothing for her to worry about, certainly.

  Within minutes of Wyatt’s leaving she had dismissed the episode and again become absorbed in her illustrations.

  Over the next few days she submerged herself in work. If she thought about Wyatt and their last encounter at all it was with amusement and a strange, vague regret. After a week, she’d forgotten about the incident completely.

  Now she realized that she’d obviously been foolish to dismiss him so quickly. She should have known that a man as dominant and determined as Wyatt would not give up so easily.

  “What’re you doing here? I thought I’d seen the last of you.”

  “Charming.” He pushed away from the car and covered the space between them in a few lazy steps. Touching her cheek with a fingertip, he pushed back a corkscrew curl. “You really know how to turn a guy’s head, don’t you, sweetheart?”

  Maggie shrugged. “I’m not your sweetheart. And if you want someone to pander to your ego there’s a massage parlor around the corner,” she added with her old twinkle. Tilting her head slightly to the left, she avoided his touch.

  “Did you miss me?” He toyed with the lock of hair. Fascinated, he watched the curl twine around his finger and cling as though it had a life of its own.

  “Were you gone?”

  Wyatt’s gaze snapped up. He had expected denials, even taunting, but the look in her eyes left no doubt that she really hadn’t known he’d been out of the country. He didn’t know whether to curse or laugh.

  “Ouch. It’s a good thing I’ve got a tough hide. You’re really murder on a guy’s self-esteem.”

  “Sorry. It wasn’t intentional. You didn’t answer my question though. What’re you doing here?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? I came to see you.” He looped his arm around her shoulders and tried to steer her toward the door on the loading dock, but Maggie dug in her heels.

  “Wait a minute! All that’s obvious to me is you’re a stubborn man who won’t take no for an answer.”

  “That’s right. If I were the kind of fool who did that, Sommersby Enterprises would have gone belly-up years ago. When I want something I go after it. And I don’t stop until it’s mine.”

  The statement, issued in that soft but implacable voice, sent a shiver down Maggie’s spine. She shot him a wary look. “I don’t think I like the sound of that.”

  She didn’t care for the enigmatic look he gave her, either. But when he nudged her shoulder and said, “Come on, Maggie. We have to talk,” she sighed and allowed him to lead her inside. It was probably best to clear the air and get the matter settled once and for all.

  How in the world had she gotten herself into this tangle, anyway? One minute she’d been sitting there minding her own business, enjoying a cool drink and shooting the breeze with Lester. Then Wyatt Sommersby had rolled into the station in that wheezing car, and her life hadn’t been the same since.

  Disgust compressed Maggie’s mouth as they stepped into the freight elevator. See if she gave anyone a lift again.

  Neither spoke as they made the slow ascent. Wyatt stood with his feet braced wide, his jaw set in that determined way that she was beginning to recognize. Maggie sighed again. This wasn’t going to be easy.

  Instinctively from the start she had known that this was a man she should avoid at all costs. He represented danger simply because she found him so outrageously attractive. And because he tempted her the way no other man ever had. Just the sight of him made her feel giddy and excited, and the sound of that gravelly voice never failed to send gooseflesh rippling over her skin and make her heart go pitty-pat.

  None of which was a good sign. She absolutely could not allow herself to become emotionally attached to Wyatt.

  Love was a trap, one she intended to avoid. Not that she believed for a moment that Wyatt would ever fall in love with her. It was her own foolish heart she did not trust.

  Maggie was not, nor had she ever been, in the market for a man. Since her early teens she had made it a practice to steer clear of serious romantic involvements.

  She liked men. She liked them a lot. She enjoyed their company, their attention, that exciting little spark of electricity that flowed between a man and woman when the chemistry was right. Some of the men she had met had even made her feel all fluttery and weak in the knees, though not enough to abandon her freedom. None of them, however, had ever affected her the way Wyatt did.

  Maggie sighed, disgusted with herself. If she had tried, she could not have picked a man more unsuitable for her. Like Asa, Wyatt was an acquisitive man. Maggie knew herself too well; she needed freedom as much as she needed oxygen.

  She could not abide ties or restrictions or commitments. She did not want to feel responsible for anyone else’s happiness or have to stop and consider someone else before making a decision.

  For those reasons, she knew she couldn’t survive within the restrictions of a serious affair. And marriage with anyone was out of the question. To even consider either with a possessive man like Wyatt would be insane.

  The best way to ensure that she remained heart-whole and footloose was to avoid temptation.

  Deciding that the best defense was an offense, the instant they stepped inside her apartment she mentally braced herself and turned to Wyatt. “Listen to me—”

  That was as far as she got. In one swift motion his arms encircled her and scooped her up against his chest, lifting her clear off the floor. At the same time his mouth closed over hers, cutting off her words in mid-sentence. Which was just as well, because at the first touch of his lips her thought processes shut down.

  For that moment in time Maggie operated as a purely sensual creature, responding mindlessly to a seemingly endless bombardment of stimuli. As though her sensory perception had been suddenly fine-tuned, she became aware of even the most minute sensations and tactile pleasures. Her entire being was attuned to this man, absorbed by him—touch, taste, smell.

  The savage hiss of his breathing reverberated in her ears like a roar and sent puffs of moist warmth skipping over her cheek. Against her almost-bare back she felt the slight abrasive rub of the sleeves of Wyatt’s suit coat and the hard warmth of his hands splayed across her skin, right down to the surprising calluses that ridged his palms. She was aware of each individual shirt button imprinted against the tender flesh of her midriff and his belt buckle pressing intimately into her belly. Her soft breasts, pressed flat against the solid wall of his chest, absorbed the thunderous beat of his heart, and her nipples hardened in response. An intoxicating mixture of aromas filled her head and made it spin; citrusy cologne, starched linen, soap and potent male. At some time her arms had found their way around his neck, and as her hands caressed his nape she felt the delicious prickle of hair stubble against her fingertips.

  With a little moan, Maggie melted against him, her body conforming to his like wax in the sun. The loose sandal slipped off her foot and hit the ceramic tile floor of the entry with a small thud. Seconds later the other one followed.

  Wyatt’s tongue plunged in and out of her mouth, staking a claim with sure, erotic strokes, twining in a seductive dance with hers. Tiny sparks shot through Maggie. Every cell in her body tingled,
and a fire ignited in the core of her femininity. She felt weak and wobbly, and her stomach went deliciously woozy. All she could do was hang there and let the heady experience absorb her.

  Maggie embraced life and all its experiences and she eagerly accepted this one, relishing each new sensation that quivered through her. It was mindless, heart-thumping, skin-tingling, breath-stealing pleasure, and she wondered distantly why she had never experienced anything like it before. Mainly, though, she simply held on and savored the glorious bliss.

  How long the kiss lasted she had no idea, but when his lips lifted slowly from hers she groaned a weak protest. She hung in his arms, her eyes closed, her moist lips parted. Her heart thundered and her body vibrated like a plucked string on a cheap guitar. She felt on fire.

  Slowly, as though weighted with lead, her eyelids lifted partway, and through the fog of passion she met Wyatt’s glittery stare. His pupils were dilated until only a narrow band of silver showed around the outer edges. His nostrils were flared, his face flushed with fierce passion.

  Maggie swallowed hard and licked her lips. His eyes followed the action and narrowed. “Wh—”

  “That was so we wouldn’t waste any more time arguing about whether or not you’re attracted to me. I think we just established that you are.”

  His arrogance took away what little breath Maggie had, but she couldn’t deny his claim, nor the effectiveness of his strategy—not when she was hanging in his arms like a wet rag.

  “A-all right, so I do find you attractive,” she admitted grudgingly. “So what? I find a lot of men attractive—Pierce Brosnan, Tom Cruise, Warren Moon, Carl Sagan, Stone Phillips. That doesn’t mean I’m going to run out and have a flaming affair with any of them.”

  “I doubt that you know any of them, so that reasoning doesn’t apply. Anyway—” He frowned. “Carl Sagan?”

  Maggie grinned. “I think intelligent men are incredibly sexy.” She was beginning to regain her equilibrium, and with it her sass.

  “Really. Interesting. Remind me to tell you my IQ sometime. Right now, however, we’ve got a lot to discuss. I have to catch a plane in just a little over an hour, and I want to get this settled before I leave.”

  Maggie wanted the same thing, but she had a sinking feeling that they were after different results.

  She pushed against his shoulders. “Fine. But I really think I could discuss this more comfortably if you would put me down. My legs are going to sleep, just hanging here.”

  His mouth quirked. “Too bad. I was enjoying myself.” For a second his arms tightened. Then, watching her, he loosened his hold just enough to let her slide slowly downward.

  The erotic rub of her body over his took her breath away. Her breasts molded to the contours of his chest, soft to hard. Against her belly she felt first the scrape of his belt buckle, then the hard ridge of his maleness. Her nipples hardened into taut, tingling buttons and her heart began to pump so hard a flush spread over her from her bare toes to the roots of her hair. Maggie felt as though she were on fire. Even her earlobes burned.

  She knew by the blaze of heat in Wyatt’s eyes and the rigid set of his features that he was aware of what he was doing to her, but she was powerless to hide her reaction. Dazed, all she could do was cling to his shoulders and stare into those mesmerizing silver eyes.

  At last her toes touched the floor, then her heels, but for a moment he continued to hold her. Afraid her knees would give way without support, Maggie didn’t protest.

  “Maggie.” He whispered her name like a caress, and her heart skipped a beat. It started up again and took off at a gallop when his gaze dropped to her mouth. “Maggie,” he repeated. His head tilted to one side and began to descend, but from somewhere she gathered her resolve and took a quick step backward, pulling out of his arms.

  “Oh, no. No more of that,” she said in a shaky but adamant voice, backing down the steps. “You said you wanted to talk. So talk.”

  Wyatt sighed. “I can think of things I’d rather do with you, but you’re right. We do need to settle a few matters first.”

  What matters? Maggie wondered.

  He walked to the grouping of furniture that defined the living room, but instead of taking a seat he stood in the middle of the rug with his hands in his trouser pockets and jingled his change and keys. Finally his gaze lit on her.

  “I want us to be together, Maggie.”

  “Now, Wyatt, I told y—”

  “No, wait, let me finish. I don’t want you to think that all I want is a brief affair or some cheap one-night stand. That’s not what I’m after at all.”

  “Well, that’s a relief,” she quipped drolly, but her heart began to boom like a kettledrum. Surely he wasn’t leading up to... She gave a little shudder and shook off the thought. No, of course not. Heavens, they barely knew each other.

  Wyatt paced back and forth across the rug twice, scowling. Finally he seemed to come to a decision and swung to face her. “Look, I know you women like all the hearts and flowers, all those ritual preliminaries—the dating, the phone calls, the gifts and romantic gestures—but I’m a busy man. I don’t have time for all that nonsense. Besides, I want you too much to wait any longer, so I’m going to cut right to the chase.”

  Maggie didn’t like the sound of that at all.

  “First of all, you should know that I happen to be a man who likes stable relationships.”

  Oh, no. Please, Sainted Mother Mary, don’t let him do this. Don’t let him propose, she prayed fervently, but Wyatt forged right ahead.

  “Even if I weren’t, in today’s world I’d have to be a fool to sleep around. That’s why I practice serial monogamy.”

  Maggie blinked. “Excuse me?”

  “I maintain an exclusive relationship with one woman for an extended period of time. Before I begin a new relationship I insist that my new partner be tested, and for her peace of mind I do the same, of course.”

  Astounded, Maggie dropped down on the arm of the sofa, her mouth agape.

  “As long as you and I are together, I’ll take excellent care of you, Maggie. I think you’ll find that I’m a generous man.” He glanced around at her apartment and his mouth turned down at one corner. “It’s obvious that you don’t have access to Asa’s wealth—although I must admit, that surprises me. I didn’t expect the old man to be such a skinflint with his family. However, that doesn’t matter.

  “The first thing I want to do is move you into a nicer place. Maybe a condo over by the Galleria. I’ll buy it and put the deed in your name, of course, as a sort of security for you for later.”

  “Later?”

  “Yes. When we decide to go our separate ways.”

  “Now wait just a min—”

  “Of course, I would also provide a generous monthly allowance, charge accounts at all the stores and a maid, if you want one. Oh, and a car to replace that old clunker of a truck you drive. Pick out whatever you want and have the bill sent to me.” He rubbed the back of his head and thought for a moment. “I think that about covers everything. Except, of course, that in return I expect exclusivity.” He looked at her and raised one eyebrow. “Perhaps there’s something else you’d like? If so, now’s the time to say so.”

  Bemused, Maggie stared at him. When she realized her mouth was hanging open she snapped it shut. A chuckle threatened, but she fought it back. Barely.

  “Let me get this straight. You’re asking me to be your mistress?”

  Wyatt frowned. “That’s an outdated word that carries negative connotations. I prefer...romantic liaison. Or just lover, if you like.”

  “Call it whatever you want, a kept woman is still a kept woman,” Maggie said with a wry smile. “Since it’s not a position to which I’ve ever aspired, I’m afraid I must decline.”

  He looked stunned. “You’re saying no? Without even thinking it over?”

  “I don’t have to think it over. Your offer is more than generous, I’m sure, but I’m simply not interested.”

 
; “Now, Maggie, don’t be hasty. Perhaps I put it badly. I don’t think you fully realize what I’m offering.”

  “You’re offering me a gilded cage. You’re offering me exactly what John Hightower gave my mother. Holy Mary and Joseph! Did you really think I’d go for that?”

  Wyatt stiffened as though she’d slapped him. “It’s not the same thing at all. Your father took advantage of a naive girl. He used her for his own pleasure then left her to face the consequences alone. He was irresponsible and unbelievably selfish, and even after he left her for someone else he continued to keep her on a string.

  “I’m being honest and open with you, and I think very fair. Times are different now. You won’t suffer from our relationship. There will be no children nor will any hearts be broken. And when either of us decides to end it, the break will be a clean one, with no regrets on either side.”

  “Och, what a great loobie you are, Wyatt Sommersby.” The scornful amusement in Maggie’s voice was unmistakable. “You think by laying it all out like one of your business deals that makes it all right. Well, I’m telling you, ’tis still an insult.”

  “Insult! For your information, there are plenty of women who would jump at the chance to be my woman,” he roared.

  “Fine. Why don’t you offer one of them your deal.”

  “Because I want you. And it’s not a deal, damn you. It’s a sensible arrangement that will be mutually advantageous and satisfying. And what the bloody hell is a loobie?”

  “A loobie is a loobie—an idiot, a fool, an ass.”

  His mouth dropped open. “You’re calling me an ass?”

  Maggie burst out laughing, and Wyatt glared. “What’s the matter, Your Nibs. Hasn’t anyone ever called you that to your face before? I don’t know why not. It certainly fits.”

  “Very funny,” he snapped. She could almost see him grinding his teeth and calling on his last reserve of patience. “Look, Maggie, you haven’t thought this thing through. You could have a better apartment, a new car, all the latest fashions. You said yourself your writing hasn’t made you rich.”