And Cowboy Makes Three (Cowboys To The Rescue 2)

by Martha Shields

  She swallowed with difficulty. “A little. You’re Jacob Anderson, after all.”

  “I’m a man, Claire. I have the same working parts as any other man.”

  “How do you know you...want to go to bed with me?”

  His deep brown eyes blackened to pitch, and his nostrils flared. His voice deepened and softened. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’ve wanted you since the first time you yelled at me on the elevator.”

  Claire couldn’t breathe. Was she imagining it, or was he leaning closer? “You liked me yelling at you? Isn’t that a little... kinky?”

  He smiled. “Maybe. But I realized I liked being treated like a human being instead of a demigod. You don’t know how much I’ve missed that.”

  “Oh.” He was definitely getting closer, and her heart rate was definitely speeding up. “Well, then, I’ll have to yell at you more. I’ve had a lot of practice. I’ve got two brothers who have to be taken down a peg or two every now and...” She trailed off as she realized she was babbling.

  His smile widened, making fine lines crinkle around his eyes. He pulled her hands up to his shoulders, then slipped his own around her waist, drawing her against him.

  “What are you doing?” she asked in a husky voice she barely recognized as her own. Her head bent back as his lowered.

  “I’m going to prove it to you.”

  He was so close she could feel his warm breath fanning her face. So close she couldn’t think. “Prove what?” ,

  One hand slipped into her hair. “That I want you...”

  The assault of his lips was subtle—slowly robbing her of the ability to think, of the ability to hold herself upright. Her arms wound around his neck. The body molded against hers felt like steel, the lips like heaven.

  When a moan welled up from deep within, Claire didn’t even try to suppress it. He answered with a sound she felt more than heard. Her blood heated by degrees, pumping through her veins as it thinned. Every drop rushed to the juncture of her thighs and stayed there, pulsating. She arched against him. Just when she thought she would melt into him, he ended the kiss.

  Though he still held her close, Claire felt deserted. Her wits slowly fell back into their proper place. When she could finally think, she couldn’t believe what had just happened. His kisses totally robbed her of control. If he hadn’t stopped, he could’ve done anything he wanted.

  “See?” he whispered raggedly against her hair. “We won’t have any trouble making beautiful babies together.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes and she struggled to pull away, but he only let her back far enough to see her face. “What’s wrong? Didn’t you like it?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  He gave her an incredibly arrogant, very masculine smile. “Liar.”

  Her chin lifted. “I’m not going to many you, Jacob Anderson.”

  “Yes, you are,” he said quietly. “I’m going to spend the next forty-eight hours convincing you that you not only need to marry me, you want to.”

  Claire shut down her computer, then flipped off the power switch. The screen went black.

  There. Hank and Alex should be satisfied for a while. She’d sent them an e-mail saying she’d be away for a few days so they wouldn’t descend on Denver if they couldn’t get her on the phone.

  That was after she’d searched every medical database she could find on the Internet, trying to find some hope for a miraculous cure for endometriosis besides pregnancy. But there wasn’t any. Everything she found said pregnancy was the preferred cure.

  “You’re through?”

  Claire rolled her chair back and twisted to look across the room. Jake sat at the table that carved a dining area out of her living area, his own laptop computer open in front of him. His presence changed the entire decor. Energy charged the air with Jake as the source.

  “The two hours you allotted for us to work are up, aren’t they?”

  He glanced at his watch. “So they are. Let me get out of this...”

  Jake saved the spreadsheet he’d been working on, shut down his computer, then folded it to notebook size. Pushing back his chair, he strode across the room and sat on a sturdy coffee table. Claire sucked in a sharp breath as he swiveled her chair around.

  Jake discovered he had a few latent caveman tendencies where Claire was concerned. Now that he’d selected her as his mate. he felt protective and possessive. He’d never experienced those feelings before, not about a woman. They felt primal, they felt good, they felt right.

  “What did you find out about your condition?” he asked.

  Claire rolled her eyes. “Nothing new. Everything I read says I need to get pregnant. The whole world’s conspiring against me.”

  He smiled. Her refusal to marry him had become a game between them—one he had every intention of winning. “Would marrying me be that bad? We spent two days together, and I can still stand to be around you. I thought I was beginning to grow on you, too. Don’t I have any redeeming qualities?”

  Claire placed a finger on her chin. “Let me see now. Surely there’s something. Well...you don’t smoke or chew tobacco.”

  “True, anything else?”

  “You do clean up right nicely.”

  He leaned forward and placed his hands on the arms of her chair, capturing her. “Does that mean I don’t offend your nose or I don’t offend your eyes?”

  Claire pursed her lips. “You don’t offend either, I suppose.”

  His smile widened. “Anything else?”

  “You’re rich.”

  Jake felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. His smile vanished. “Is that important to you?”

  “It is a point in your favor.”

  He scowled. “Money isn’t everything.”

  “It is if you don’t have any,” she pointed out. “Or if you’re in danger of losing what you do have.”

  “If it’s money you want...”

  Claire pushed her chair away from him and stood up. “Good grief, Jake, I was kidding. If I were after your money, don’t you think we’d be married by now?” She headed into the kitchen “I thought you had a sense of humor. You laughed at that lawyer joke Mr. Pruitt told at the museum. But I see now I was wrong. Sorry, I can’t marry a man without a sense of humor. With my family, it’s absolutely necessary.”

  Feeling like he’d just taken several steps backward, Jake followed her. He captured her hand as she reached to open the refrigerator door. “I’m sorry. You pushed one of my hot buttons.”

  He knew his face looked harsh as she studied him over her shoulder.

  “I don’t understand why you hate your money so much,” she said.

  “I don’t hate the money. I hate the way it makes people treat me. But I only discovered that recently, which makes the button that much hotter for being new.”

  “How did you discover it?”

  “Alan’s will. And you.”

  Claire blinked. “Me? What did I do?”

  He smiled faintly. “You treat me like dirt.”

  “And you like this?”

  “Let’s just say it makes you a challenge. And I never could resist a challenge.”

  His arm crept around her waist, and he turned her to face him. Another thing he’d discovered was that his hands had a will of their own when he was around Claire. If she was within reach, they reached for her—her hair, her arms, her hands, her back. The physical connection soothed him and excited him at the same time. It excited her, too. Though she tried to pretend she was in control, he recognized the signs of desire.

  Satisfaction swept through him now as her lips parted slightly and her breathing became a little more rapid, a little more shallow.

  “I was just going to get some juice,” she said with studied nonchalance. “Want some?”

  He shook his head and leaned into her, pressing her back against the kitchen cabinet. “You’re avoiding the subject. You were naming the reasons you want to marry me.”

  Her gaze fell to his lips. “I wa
s?”

  As he nodded, her eyes followed his mouth up and down. Jake felt his pulse picking up speed as her obvious desire ignited his. “Surely you can think of something else.”

  Color seeped into her cheeks. “I’ll get to have a baby.”

  His voice deepened. “True. Anything else?”

  She looked up to find him watching her. She must’ve liked whatever she saw in his eyes because she relaxed into him and smiled mischievously. “You’re a good kisser.”

  He took the hint, his mouth closing over hers. The desire nagging at the corners of the day bit deep as her warmth flowed into him. The sensations riding the hot waves of his blood were sharper and sweeter than he’d experienced with any other woman.

  “Well?” he murmured against her mouth.

  “Well what?”

  “How do you rate me as a kisser—on a scale of one to ten?”

  Claire pulled back far enough to peer into his hooded eyes. About three million. Aloud, she said, “I don’t have enough experience to put a number to it.”

  His head lowered. “Then by all means let me—”

  She placed her fingers over his lips. “Okay, okay, you’re at the upper end of the scale. Satisfied?”

  “Hardly.” But he smiled like a cat who’d just cornered a mouse. “So you’ll marry me?”

  “I didn’t say that.” She turned her back to him and reached into a cabinet for a glass.

  He wrapped his arms around her waist and whispered next to her ear, “What’s it going to take to convince you? Shall I carry you upstairs and make love to you?”

  The image of his naked body looming over her, pressing her into a soft mattress, popped into Claire’s head. She could feel his heat pressing against her, hear the harshness of his breathing, taste the saltiness of his skin—She shook her head to clear it from the fog of desire. “That would only confuse me more.”

  “Claire,...”

  “I know. There are so many reasons I should marry you.”

  He turned her back around. “I hear a but in there some place.”

  Because she couldn’t look at his lips without remembering what they did to her, Claire’s eyes fixed on the third button of his shirt. She knew she was putting off the inevitable. Still... “I know you think it’s stupid. I just always thought I would love the man I married. Love is important in my family. My parents were so in love with each other they died together. Hank loves Alex. I just...feel like I’ve failed somehow.”

  “Failed at what? I like you, Claire. A lot. And you like me, don’t you?”

  “I...guess so.”

  He shook her gently. “Look at me.” When she complied, he said, “We’re starting out with a whole lot more than other couples do. We have so much in common—our backgrounds, our work, our goals, friendship, passion. Who knows? Maybe love will grow between us.”

  “You say that like you don’t believe it.”

  “I can’t help it if I think love is a fairy tale.”

  “Didn’t your parents love each other?”

  “I don’t know. I suppose they thought they were in love at some point. I was only three when my mother died. My father rarely mentioned her.”

  Claire pulled air deep into her lungs, then slowly released it. Mentioning her family hurt more than it helped. She knew exactly what each one of them would say about her marrying a man who didn’t love her. They’d tell her to come home because they all loved her. They didn’t understand that being around the love they shared with each other made her feel like an outsider, like someone unworthy of being loved like that herself.

  She studied Jake’s earnest face. There was such power in his chiseled features, such determination. He didn’t frighten her—not physically. Far from it. Her hands ached to run through his short, nearly black hair. Her lips longed to trace the slight cleft in his chin.

  Suddenly, Claire knew she could love this man if she let herself. Despite his ruthless reputation, with her he’d been kind and thoughtful, smart and generous, passionate and tender. What he’d told her of his background sounded as if he didn’t know how to love. Maybe she could teach him. Maybe they could learn togeth —

  Claire stopped herself there. Alex told her once that the only time a woman could easily change a man was when he was in diapers. No, she had to go into this with her eyes open, knowing they would never share the kind of marriage her brother Hank had with Alex. The best thing she could do would be to protect her heart, to maintain control and avoid falling in love with Jake. Then it wouldn’t matter if he didn’t love her.

  She had to think of the baby. Having a baby of her own was worth just about any sacrifice she had to make. Her child’s love would make up for what she didn’t get from her husband.

  “All right,” she said quietly.

  “All right...what?” he asked.

  “I’ll marry you.”

  “Don’t look so scared, angel. It’s not a death sentence.”

  A shiver rippled through her at the endearment. “No, it’s a life sentence.”

  One black brow arched. “I’ll take that to mean you’re planning to spend the rest of your life with me.”

  “Is that what you want, Jake? The rest of my life?”

  His eyes narrowed. “That’s what the vows say.”

  “Yes, but fifty percent of all marriages—”

  “End in divorce. I know. That doesn’t mean ours will.”

  “What if it just doesn’t work?”

  His arm tightened on her waist. “It will work if we make it work. If you go into this expecting us to fail, then we will.”

  “How can you expect a marriage like this to succeed?”

  “Anything can succeed with enough determination.”

  “I just...” She trailed away. “Never mind.”

  Jake gently rubbed his hands up her back. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

  “I hope you don’t.”

  “I never regret a decision once I’ve made it. It wastes too much energy.”

  Claire envied Jake the confidence that years of taking nailbiting risks gave him. The biggest gamble she’d ever made was moving away from Wyoming. Only her determination to get away from cowboys and the firm offer of a job bad given her the courage.

  “Come with me.” He took her hand and led her back to the table. He fished around in his computer bag and pulled out a small box.

  Claire knew what was there before he opened it to reveal a set of wedding rings. After lunch, Jake had insisted they swing by a jeweler’s over her protests that she hadn’t agreed to marry him.

  Claire let him take her hand and slip the engagement ring on her finger. The three-carat diamond dwarfed her hand. “I don’t know why you had to buy such a big one. I won’t be able to use a keyboard.”

  “You’ll get used to it,” he said smugly. “It seems a bit loose, though. We’ll have it resized when we get back.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll be glad of the extra room when my fingers start swelling after I get pregnant. And what do you mean, when we get back? Where are we going?”

  “Las Vegas. They’ve got wedding chapels that stay open all night. My jet has been ready and waiting since noon. We can be married in four hours.”

  “Four hours?” Reality hit Claire like sleet on a forty mile an hour wind. In four hours, life as she knew it would be over. She’d be Mrs. Jacob Anderson. “And I suppose I’ll be pregnant by dawn.”

  His eyes seemed to catch fire. “I’m planning to do my best.”

  “Good grief, Jake—”

  “There’s no time to waste, angel, and no reason to wait. Unless you want your family there?”

  Claire thought about the entire Eden brood descending on Jake and quickly shook her head. “It’s probably better if they don’t find out until I’m pregnant.”

  Then they can’t try to talk me out of it.

  “You’re sure? I can fly them all out to Vegas if you—”

  “No. I’m sure.” She took a deep breath.
“Let me go pack.”

  Jake checked his watch. “Just grab a toothbrush. We need to be in the air within an hour if we’re going to make it. The Las Vegas Marriage License Bureau closes at midnight. We’ll buy whatever else you need out there.”

  Chapter Five

  Two in the morning. Las Vegas. Fake flowers. Rented clothes. Taped music. Paid witnesses.

  Not exactly how she’d pictured her wedding.

  Claire paused at the back of a tiny wedding chapel in a bridal gown that stretched tight across her bosom. Taking a deep breath, she willed herself to loosen her death grip on the silk flower bouquet as music swelled through the empty pews.

  The minister stood between two massive bright pink silk flower arrangements while Elvis crooned “Love Me Tender.”

  Jake stood off to the right in a dark suit, watching her expectantly, as did the two witnesses. Every one of them acted as though this were perfectly normal.

  Tears sprang to her eyes, but she fought them back with determination. No one said life was perfect, or that it gave you everything you dreamed of. At least she was getting married and would have children.

  The only thing she risked losing was her heart.

  Squaring her shoulders, Claire took the first step down the short aisle.

  As Jake watched his bride walk slowly toward him, a moment of panic seized him. What the hell was he doing? He’d known this woman less than four days. What if she were just like every other woman he’d ever dated? What if she took him for all he was worth despite the prenuptial agreement she’d signed without a fight?

  Claire stopped beside him and met his eyes for the first time since she’d stepped into the chapel. She lifted her chin in that stubborn little way already familiar to him and suddenly he knew—he was marrying the right woman. He would never tire of gazing into her clear blue eyes, even when they were surrounded by wrinkles.

  Claire Eden was his choice, his wife, his mate.

  A grin stole slowly across his face, and she answered with a timid smile. He took her cold hand in his and turned to face the minister.

  Claire hovered behind Jake as he registered for the best suite in Caesar’s Palace Hotel. She shivered despite the warm desert air and pulled her sweater close around her. The cold she felt came from within.