by Cora Seton
With a grunt of exasperation, he shifted her skirts aside. Riley sighed in his arms as he continued to kiss her, but when his hand tangled in her petticoat, Boone got to his knees.
“What are you doing?” Riley asked as he bent over her and rolled up the hem of her dress, shift and petticoat like he would a sleeping bag to prepare it for storage.
“Trying to get this thing out of the way.”
“You’ll wrinkle my dress.” She sat up and began to unroll his handiwork.
“I’m being careful.” He batted her hands away and got to work again.
“This dress cost a bundle.” She unrolled it as fast as he rolled it up.
“I’ll buy you a new one.” Boone started all over again.
“That’s hardly sustainable,” she said primly.
Boone groaned. “For God’s sake, woman—get that thing off.”
“I’m supposed to call the shots, remember?” She flipped out the skirts of her dress and dusted them off with her hands. Boone thought she meant to put an end to their fun, but the sly look she sent him from the corner of her eye raised his hopes all over again.
“You’re going to be my wife,” he said, advancing again. “Don’t I get to see what I’m getting out of the deal?”
“I think you got an eyeful this afternoon.”
“Yeah, I did. And I liked it. A lot.” With a mock growl he bowled her over, kissed her and blew raspberries on her neck until she shrieked with laughter. He ducked down to make another attempt on her skirts.
“Boone—oh!” Riley gasped as he finally got them up to her waist, tugged down the tiny, silky panties she wore underneath and bent to explore.
Riley fell back and opened her legs, an invitation Boone didn’t try to resist. Positioning himself between them, his hands lifting her hips, he got his first taste of her.
Heaven.
SHE SHOULD TELL him to stop. She should go back to the manor.
She would—in a minute.
Riley bit back a moan of pleasure as Boone languorously explored her with his mouth and tongue. She couldn’t help moving against him in a rhythmic tilt of her hips, inviting him in further, almost begging him to make her his own.
She couldn’t believe how much a little silly teasing had turned her on, but it was just this kind of playfulness she’d always wanted in a man, but never found.
She’d joked with Boone tons of times when they’d been children, but she’d never teased him in a flirtatious way.
She promised herself she would do it again soon.
For now all she could do was lie back and bask in the sensations Boone was calling forth from her body. The rasp of his tongue over her most sensitive places had her bucking against him, wanting more. His hands gripped her hips, his fingers slid over her bottom, until she burned with a craving for something only Boone could give her.
Riley knew she should hold back—this was far too intimate an experience with a man she’d just gotten to know again—but somehow it felt so right. Every move that Boone made elicited its own exquisite response in her body. He played her with a virtuosity that stunned Riley. A touch here, a kiss there and she could only relinquish the control she’d thought she wanted and let Boone take them on a sensual journey she hoped would never end.
Riley didn’t realize she was tugging Boone toward her until he lifted his head and questioned her with his eyes.
“I want…” she panted. “Boone—”
He moved over her body to cover her. He was still fully dressed. That didn’t seem right. Riley’s fingers tangled with his belt, until Boone covered her hand with his and undid it for her. She got his button undone and tugged down the zipper of his jeans. When she slid a hand inside his pants, Boone sucked in a breath.
He was so hard. So magnificent. Riley ached with a longing she could hardly define. It went beyond reason or rationality to a place that was ancient, instinctive—feral.
She helped him shuck off his pants and boxer briefs and when he pressed himself against her, she gasped from the sheer pleasure of it.
“Riley. Protection? Is this safe?”
Safe? Hell, no this wasn’t safe. She was flinging her heart at a man who’d trampled on it once before. That wasn’t what he was asking, though, and Riley fought to untangle her thoughts. Protection?
“I’m clean,” she gasped.
“Me, too.” He pushed inside her just a little and Riley wanted to scream with impatience. It had been ages since she’d been with a man and her body wanted more—much, much more.
He pushed inside her so slowly it was like being propelled toward ecstasy in slow motion. She could tell how good it would feel when he filled her, but he was drawing the moment out until her nerves were on fire. One hand on her hip, the other bracing himself above her, Boone pushed in all the way, then began a slow retreat that was just as sensual. Riley whimpered, wanting him to speed up, but for all her talk about control, it was clear who had the upper hand.
“You are beautiful,” he breathed. “So beautiful.”
He was beautiful, too. She wished they’d managed to get the rest of their clothes off but it was too late to worry about any of that now. Boone picked up his pace and Riley closed her eyes.
Too late…
Too late—
“Boone!” She’d meant to say it loudly and stop him, but Boone was thrusting into her, every ounce of his concentration wrapped up in maintaining control, and her voice had come out a gasp. As he increased his pace again, he felt so good she didn’t want to stop him.
She had to stop him, though. She wasn’t—
Let me give you a child and we’ll raise it together.
Without a job, you won’t qualify to adopt.
Right and wrong tangled in Riley’s mind with desire and hope. She wanted a child.
She wanted Boone.
She wanted—
Boone shifted and Riley arched back, her orgasm crashing over her hard and fast, the way Boone was making love to her. The sensation went on and on, and Riley could only ride the wave of ecstasy he’d called forth in her. Boone grunted out his own release, bucking against her until he shuddered and collapsed on top of her, pinning her to the earth.
As she panted for breath, her vision swimming from the intensity of her orgasm, Riley stared over his shoulder into the deep royal blue of the darkening sky, too dazed at first to take in what she had done. But as a star peeped through the velvet curtain of night, and she became all too aware of the lumps and bumps of the hard ground underneath the picnic blanket, remorse cut through her as sharp as a knife. She’d crossed a boundary she’d always held sacrosanct.
Shame stole her breath away as she searched for a rationalization. When Boone wrapped his arms around her as if he wouldn’t let her go, Riley held still, afraid he could read the treachery in her thoughts. How could she have kept quiet knowing Boone had misinterpreted what she’d said? He’d thought she was using protection—the Pill. That she was safe.
But she wasn’t safe. She had abandoned her pills long ago after Marc left her, angry at the universe who kept stealing her dreams. Why bother with birth control if no one wanted to touch her?
Boone had touched her. Had made love to her.
Had he made her pregnant, too?
BOONE THOUGHT IF he simply didn’t move, he wouldn’t have to face what he’d done. He’d railroaded right over Riley’s wish to slow things down and build a relationship from scratch. He couldn’t excuse himself, either. He’d wanted what he’d wanted—and he’d took it, barely slowing down enough to ask the most basic questions he should have asked a new partner.
He knew from his regular checkups he hadn’t brought anything extra to the party and he trusted Riley when she’d said she was safe, too. Still, that was a discussion to have when their clothes were still on, before he was half inside her and long past stopping.
He had acted like a…
Teenager.
He stifled a groan. Had he killed this relationship befo
re it even started? Judging by the way she’d arched against him, she’d enjoyed being with him, too, but now she was quiet underneath him. Far too quiet.
Reluctantly, Boone rolled off of her. Riley sat up, but didn’t meet his eye. He hitched up his boxer briefs and jeans and fumbled with his belt. By the time he was done, Riley had smoothed down her skirts.
“Riley—” He didn’t know what to say.
“I think—” She broke off. “Boone—”
“Hey, we’re getting married, right?” he tried to joke. “I think it’s allowed.” He hoped she could see the humor in the situation, too, but Riley pinched her lips together. “Honey, I meant it when I said I wanted to give this a real go. You and me—” It was hard to keep going when she looked so miserable. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m… not on the Pill,” she confessed in a rush. “I’m sorry, Boone. I should have—”
Relief coursed through him, followed by a strange lift of… pride? Boone couldn’t parse the feelings that cut through him like rip tides. She was sorry? That meant she wasn’t angry at him. She wasn’t on the Pill? That meant she could be pregnant already.
His parents would be pleased.
So would Fulsom. Although, wasn’t he was supposed to wait until June?
He squashed those thoughts. Fuck Fulsom. He could care less what the man wanted. He hadn’t done it for his parents, either.
His gaze raked Riley from head to toe.
He’d done it because Riley charged him up like no one else he’d ever met.
“It’s okay.” He wanted to lay her out and make love to her all over again. He felt like he’d stumbled off the map of the world into a whole new territory that had never been charted. He wanted to explore Riley, to find out everything there was to know.
She shook her head. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.”
“Riley. Listen to me.” He waited until she was looking him in the eye. “I don’t intend to marry twice. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
After a long pause, she nodded.
“You’re stuck with me. If we’ve made a child, it’s stuck with me, too. I’m not going anywhere.” He kissed her softly. “This dance is forever.”
RILEY STOOD ON the manor’s front porch and watched Boone stride away down the path into the darkness toward the outbuildings.
Engaged.
She was engaged to a man who made her breathless, confused and aggravated in turns. To a man who’d rocked her world—and just possibly gotten her pregnant.
Twenty-four hours ago she’d arrived at Westfield a free woman with a dream to build a better future. Now her dream had been caught up in Boone’s and she had no idea what the future might hold.
They should have talked more. Instead, when Boone had gathered her to him, they’d made out like teenagers under the stars until she was so turned on she practically vibrated with need. Then he’d laid her down and they’d brought each other to completion again—while keeping safe this time.
Her cheeks burned at the thought of it. Letting Boone take his time over her body and make her cry out as she came seemed all the more intimate the second time around. She’d taken her turn and teased him with her mouth until he’d come, too. She’d felt so powerful knowing she could bring him to such a vulnerable place. When they were done it had been hard to stop touching him.
She thought he felt the same way.
She had a hundred questions now that he was gone. Where would they live? Would he give her a ring? And what about Fulsom and his television show? Riley couldn’t believe she hadn’t asked about that.
She lingered on the front stoop, her mood too fragile to go inside and face her friends. Would she have to be on the show, too? Probably, she realized. She wanted to save Westfield, after all. She tried to picture the manor invaded by cameras and a film crew. She wouldn’t be able to paint under those conditions. It would be hard for her friends to tend to their creative pursuits, also.
Speaking of which…
What would her friends say when they found out about her and Boone?
Riley knew she wasn’t ready to tell them yet. She hoped Boone would understand that she needed some time before she announced her engagement. Wishing she could slip away and hide, she opened the manor’s front door and found her friends gathered in the music room. Savannah was playing the piano softly, wincing whenever she sounded a sour note. Nora lounged on a sofa reading a novel. Avery was reading, too. She was seated on the opposite side of the sofa with her feet tucked underneath her and was studying a book on film techniques.
Savannah stopped playing. “How was your date?”
The others perked up, obviously ready for an interruption.
“Good,” Riley said. The house still retained a burnt odor from their ill-fated dinner, but it was fading and the interval had soothed her friends’ frazzled nerves. She cast about for something to say; something that would hint that she was beginning to fall for Boone, without revealing that she’d already agreed to marry him.
Or slept with him.
“Better than good, actually,” she added.
“I wasn’t sure you liked him all that much,” Nora said, putting down her book.
Riley came to perch on one of the armchairs across from the sofa. “I had a major crush on him when I was sixteen.”
“Before he brushed you off,” Avery said.
“You never got over him, did you? Even if you said you did.” Savannah snapped her music book shut and stood up.
“Is he a good kisser?” Avery almost sounded wistful. Savannah moved to a spot between her and Nora, and pushed Nora’s feet aside so she could sit down.
“He is,” Riley said. “Almost too good.” Much too good.
“Is that possible?”
“It is. When I’m around him… I don’t know.” She twisted her hands together. “I thought I’d have grown out of what I used to feel, but…”
“But he’s too damn sexy to fall out of lust with,” Savannah said. “Ha! Riley’s doing the landlord. Are we going to keep getting free rent?”
“I’m not doing him,” she protested even though that’s exactly what she was doing. A glance down at her rumpled dress told her she probably wasn’t fooling anyone.
“Good, because you should keep your distance,” Nora said.
“Why? It’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Avery said. “If she keeps our landlord happy, we’ll get to stay.”
“What if she doesn’t keep him happy, though?” Nora retorted. “This is a recipe for disaster.”
Would it set their minds at ease to know she was engaged to Boone? No, not under the circumstances. They’d want to know why she’d rushed into something like that and she couldn’t give them an answer that made sense.
“I’m happy for you,” Savannah said. “And we’ll all do what we can to support your relationship with the handsome Boone Rudman. Right, ladies?”
“I guess so,” Nora said.
“Of course,” Avery said.
Riley figured she’d need all the help she could get.
Chapter Eight
‡
DAWN WAS ALREADY lighting up the interior of his small tent and Boone had barely slept a wink. All night long he’d relived his mind-blowing evening with Riley, the way she’d opened to him like they were made for each other, the way his body felt when he’d pressed into her—and the way she’d held him like she couldn’t get enough.
Now they were engaged, but he had a lot more work to do before the month was up. He knew Riley; she’d be full of doubt today—about herself and him. She’d especially second-guess making love to him without protection. Boone wasn’t second guessing that at all.
He wanted to do it again.
He’d hated leaving her at the manor last night. In fact, he didn’t want to be apart from her at all. He had no idea how a feeling like this could blaze up so brightly out of nowhere, but it was as intoxicating as the finest wine. He craved Riley. He wanted to see her now.
Probably.
He’d be married within a month. Boone laced his fingers behind his head and stared up at the ceiling of the tent. Thinking about the ceremony, he almost groaned. Why had he agreed to a Regency wedding? Could he really make it through that while the whole world watched?
Would Fulsom let him?
He didn’t know what Riley meant when she’d asked him to swear not to come between her and her friends, either. Would she help him recruit Nora, Avery and Savannah to join his community?
Or would she expect him to let her stay at the manor even after they were wed?
He didn’t like that idea at all. Forget for a minute the need for her to live with him while the film crew was present; he didn’t want to be without her more than strictly necessary. Once they were married he wanted to make love to Riley every night.
Hell, he wanted to make love to her now.
He sat up and scrubbed a hand over his face. How would she react when he told her about the goals they had to meet in six months? Would she commit to help him succeed?
One thing at a time. First he would solidify his relationship with Riley. Then he’d figure out how to deal with her friends. Then he’d make sure winning was never an issue.
And he’d make sure Riley never, ever knew about Montague’s plans for the ranch should they fail. Once she found out that he intended to develop the land she loved, she wouldn’t be able to think about anything else.
First things first, he needed to win over Riley’s friends. He remembered the story she’d told him the previous night about the cooking fiasco at dinner. Maybe he could start there. If there was one thing he knew how to do, it was cook over a fire. If he could endear himself to Savannah, Avery and Nora, Riley would grow to trust him, wouldn’t she?
With that settled, Boone lay back down and thought about the work ahead of him. He had expected to have some finagling to do with the county planning office, but Fulsom had already greased those tracks. It seemed like Fulsom was well-connected everywhere. That meant they’d be able to get started with building right on time. Meanwhile, Boone had begun to work on a governance document, patched together from ones he’d found on the Internet. It boggled the mind how many details there were to sort out, especially when what he was trying to obtain was freedom from the kind of restrictions that bogged down so many lives. But people were complicated, which meant everything needed to be spelled out to prevent trouble down the road. He was supposed to spend the morning sorting it out, but after what had happened with Riley the night before, he had something far more pressing on his mind.
