The Soldier's E-Mail Order Bride (Heroes of Chance Creek)

by Seton, Cora

  He captured Ella’s chin in his hands and tilted her head up to kiss her again. “We shouldn’t…this is a bad idea.”

  She got his belt unbuckled, pulled the button on his waistband free and slipped her hand inside. He was hard and ready. “How will I know how to act like your wife if you haven’t fucked me?”

  “Ella…”

  He didn’t seem capable of saying anymore and triumph crested inside of her. In a burst of inspiration, she slowly knelt down in front of him. Tugged his jeans open and set him free. “Is this what a wife would do?”

  Surely he wouldn’t say no to this.

  When she took him inside of her mouth, Austin groaned and tangled his fingers in her hair.

  “You shouldn’t…” But he didn’t finish his sentence. Ella drew him in, then slid him out, her movements sensual and languorous. He didn’t speak any more, just let her minister to him. Ella couldn’t believe she’d been so bold, couldn’t believe she was seducing him like this, but as she slid both hands inside his jeans, gripped his hips and brought him forward again, she realized she wasn’t doing this for Austin’s benefit. She was doing it for her own.

  She wanted him. She wanted this cowboy. She wanted to do something reckless that would wipe out every memory of Anthony and her Hollywood past.

  Austin was so large and so hard she couldn’t take him all the way in, but she did her best to tease and lick and stroke every inch of him until she could tell he was having trouble holding back.

  With an animal sound, Austin lifted her to her feet again.

  Raw need twisted his face as he wrapped his fist in her hair, tugged her head back and kissed her. She knew exactly how he felt. She was panting with her own need for him. Wet with wanting him. Soon she was breathless and weak-kneed in his embrace, her hands slack on his waistband. No man had ever kissed her like this, like he would possess every molecule of her, like he would overtake her and make her his and his alone.

  He growled and pulled her even tighter. Lifted his head to scan the room. She knew what he wanted. Somewhere to put her. Somewhere to fuck her. There was no furniture. None except that waist-high travesty of a bookshelf in the corner.

  Austin must have seen it the same moment she did. Without a word, he lifted her up, crossed the room in two steps and deposited her on top of it.

  Ella clung to him as he tugged her dress up around her waist, afraid the ramshackle piece of furniture would collapse, but while it lacked style, it had evidently been built to withstand a cave-in of the roof. With her back pressed against the hard wall, Austin’s hands still on her ass, she had never felt so overcome with need. This wasn’t classy. This wasn’t her. This was—

  Heaven.

  She lurched forward as he slid his hands up her back to cradle her. He lowered his mouth to hers, sweeping her up into a kiss so intense she couldn’t breathe. Her heart was pounding as his hands finally slipped down again to grip her and lift her closer, pressing her tight against his hardness. Ella thought she would die if he wasn’t inside of her soon.

  As Austin kissed her, he fumbled with the zipper of her dress. He tugged it hard and she held her breath, wondering if he’d tear the thousand-dollar gown from her body. She wanted him to. She wanted him to rip it to shreds. Instead, she lifted her arms and shifted with his movements as he peeled it roughly up and over her head. Her bra came off next in one quick flick of his fingers and his mouth was on her breasts before she knew what was coming.

  Ella gasped, arching back as best she could to give him access. She raked her fingernails down his back and smoothed her hands up it again, glorying in the muscles at play there.

  Now his hands were at the waist of her designer panties. Ella knew it was all-or-nothing time. She was doing this or she wasn’t. She had to make a choice.

  Her decision was made in a fraction of a second. She wanted him. Bad.

  Now.

  She wriggled the panties over her hips and braced herself while he tugged them the rest of the way off. He didn’t bother with more than shoving his jeans and boxers down. Lifting her up again, he positioned her—

  “Condom!”

  “Fuck.” He held her with one arm, reached down with the other and fumbled his wallet out of his pants. For the first time, he hesitated. “Are you sure about this?”

  He held her as if she was light as air and she knew he would control this encounter. The thought turned her on more than she’d imagined.

  “Yes.”

  He didn’t wait to hear more. Splaying his hands over her hips, he lifted and positioned her.

  Then drove home.

  Ella gasped as he filled her to the hilt, the sensation so pleasurable she thought she might go over the edge right then. But Austin was far from finished. And he wasn’t holding back. Bracing her with his hands, he plunged into her roughly, until her breasts bounced with his movements.

  “God, you look good,” he rasped. One hand on her ass again, the other at her nape, he left her no choice but to wrap her legs around him and hang on for the ride. And what a ride it was. She couldn’t stop the moans escaping from her throat. She had one fleeting thought that there were no curtains on these windows. Anyone happening by would see everything.

  She didn’t care.

  Austin kept up his sensual maneuvers, pumping in and out of her until she could hold back no longer. She went over the edge with a cry she couldn’t suppress, and Austin followed a second later. He stroked into her hard and strong, bucking against her again and again. Her release went on far longer than usual, pushed up and over the top again by the strength and sensuality of his movements. When she was all played out, her legs shaking and her entire body tingling, Austin held her close, breathing hard in her ear.

  The wall behind her was cool, the bookcase she sat on rough, but she didn’t mind. Her body hummed with pleasure. She hadn’t felt this good in years. For once she wasn’t looking over her shoulder for a camera and Anthony wasn’t looking over her shoulder, either, eager to check his reflection in the closest mirror.

  This was different—real. Raw.

  “I really hope you were on board for that.”

  “Oh, I was on board,” she said, still clinging to him, her fingers wrapped around his arms, her head against his chest. She could hear his heart beating strong and fast. Otherwise, the cabin was quiet. They could be miles away from anyone out here on the ranch. Dust tickled her nose and she realized how warm it was in the bunkhouse with no windows open.

  She let herself relax against him, closing her eyes and simply… being. She had no rehearsals to get to, no lines to study, no interviews to give. Nothing to do at all, really, except lean against Austin. Smell him. Taste him.

  “You okay?” His words rumbled in his chest.

  She nodded. “I feel so… safe.”

  In an instant he was gone. Out of her. Away from her, moving so fast she almost fell. He didn’t catch her this time. He strode to the bathroom, came back out with his jeans up and zipped and was halfway out the door before she stumbled off the bookcase to her feet.

  He turned and hesitated. But only for a moment. “Safe is the last thing you are with me. We can’t do this again. Ever.”

  Chapter 9

  ‡

  Damn it all to hell. Goddamn all of it to hell. Austin strode across the wide lawn away from the Hall toward the woods that edged the property to the south. Married less than an hour and already he’d blown it.

  He’d fucked her.

  No—it was worse than that. He’d made love to her. Made love to her in a way he hadn’t made love to a woman in… forever. The way Ella had collapsed against him afterward, still connected to him in the most intimate of ways, had sent a wave of gratitude through him, followed by utter confusion. What was he doing?

  What had he done?

  Shit.

  Shit, shit, shit!

  He wasn’t fit to be anyone’s husband and he could not fall for this woman. If Ella Scales—no, Ella Hall—thought she could dr
ag him back into the light, she was wrong. There was no saving him. He was as dead as Donovan, even if he was still walking, and breathing, and—oh, God—fucking.

  Safe. She thought she was safe with him? No one was. He couldn’t be trusted. Couldn’t…

  He picked up his pace, wanting to put as much ground between him and Ella as he could. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d been with women since Donovan’s death—one night stands that meant nothing to him. This was something different. He was stone-cold sober, and it was Ella he wanted—not just a release. He’d felt something back there. He’d felt—happy.

  He reached the edge of the woods as a ragged sound tore from his throat, something too close to a sob for comfort. He wouldn’t lose control, for God’s sake. He never cried, no matter what the counselors said. There was no relief in breaking down—just more evidence of failure. He couldn’t tolerate any more failure.

  Austin spotted the old side-by-side obstacle racing course his father had built for him and his brothers when they were kids and increased his pace. Here was something he could throw himself into. Here was something against which he could pit his pain.

  They had spent so many hours running it. So many hours honing their skills, competing against each other, arguing about who had won and who had lost, joking around together as they tried out new or funny ways to beat the obstacles…

  His father had used it to handle just about every kind of parenting situation. If two of the boys fought, they had to race to see who won. If any of them argued with their father, they raced him—and always lost, until their teen years. If they got in trouble, their father assigned them a time to beat and kept them running the course until they did.

  All four of them had ended up strong, steady, capable men. Highly suited for the military. He chuckled grimly at the memory of the first time he’d run a course in basic training. The whole place had gone quiet when he burst off the starting line and traversed it as quickly as if he was running over flat ground. Since he’d run similar obstacles thousands of times before he joined up, it was weeks before anyone else in his unit could catch up to him.

  The confidence that gave him helped him get ahead and eventually set the stage for him to join the Special Forces. That had been the proudest day of his life.

  If only he hadn’t screwed everything up.

  He paused for only a second at the post that marked the starting line, then burst out of it toward the rough-hewn monkey bars that started off the course. Hand over hand, he swung himself through them, dropped on the far side and raced toward the climbing wall.

  Movement. Training. Working his body.

  He wouldn’t stop until he was under control again.

  * * *

  Ella watched Austin slam out of the bunkhouse, her arms clamped across her body in a hopeless attempt to cover her nakedness. As soon as he was gone, she snatched her dress and underthings from the floor where Austin had tossed them and dashed into the bathroom, tears already streaming down her cheeks.

  Watching Anthony kiss Kaylee at the award ceremony was nothing compared to this final humiliation. She’d been used and discarded again by someone she thought was outside of the game. Above it. Better than it.

  Maybe he thought he was better than her.

  Maybe Austin wasn’t satisfied with the leavings of another man. Maybe he was rethinking this whole marriage sham. She hadn’t given him the courtesy of letting him know her circumstances before he got involved. Was this his way of getting back at her?

  She cleaned herself up as best she could with the sliver of dried soap that stuck to the sink. There were no washcloths or towels, so she flapped her hands and willed her damp body to dry quickly so she could get dressed. She was never going to shed her clothes again, at least not in front of anyone.

  Zipped back up into her dress, she stared at her reflection in the distorted mirror above the sink. Her tasteful makeup was streaked beyond fixing, so she did her best to scrub the rest of it off, along with the tears which kept leaking from under her lashes. Afterward, her face was splotchy and raw. A paparazzo would have a field day if any were around.

  The worst of it all was that she’d thought she’d made some kind of connection to the man. She’d been swept away with wanting him… but he didn’t want her, did he?

  She splashed cold water on her cheeks to take away some of the puffiness and dried her hands by unpinning her hair and raking her fingers through it to fluff it up.

  There. That wasn’t so bad. If anyone snapped a shot she’d look scrubbed fresh and tousled, like she’d done an impromptu cleanup after a hot and heavy roll in the hay with her cowboy soldier groom.

  Swallowing hard against the ache that threatened to overwhelm her again, Ella found her shoes, slipped them on and confronted the several hundred yards of grass between her and the back door to the Hall. She needed to regain the house so she could find her luggage, find a shower and sort herself out for real. Then she’d take stock of the situation.

  And leave.

  Her heart beat wildly as she stalked out the door, chin held high in case there was a photographer hidden somewhere on the ranch. The extent of her mistake was crashing down upon her, pressing the air right out of her chest. This was supposed to be her haven, her place of safety. And in one short hour, she’d screwed that up. Maybe leaving was really the only choice. But where would she go? As she marched across the lawn toward the house, motion caught her eye and a glint of metal in the sun had her squinting toward the road.

  The boy on the bike again—the one she’d seen before when they arrived at the ranch. From this angle he was just visible as he rode on by. How many times had he passed the ranch in the hour they’d been here? Was he simply bored, or was there a purpose to his observations?

  She formed a fleeting picture of some country housewife sending out her child to spy on the new neighbors. That kid better not have a camera with a zoom lens.

  She chuckled a little at the thought, glad to find she’d retained her sense of humor. But the truth was if she ran away again now she’d find a lot of cameras trained on her. The tabloids would have a field day if they found out she’d screwed up two marriages.

  Her pace slowed.

  They would find out, too, because her marriage to Austin would soon be public record. They’d even consummated it, for heaven’s sake. She’d need to hire a divorce attorney to set herself free, and what if Austin kicked up a fuss? What if he sold his story to the highest bidder?

  It would feel just about like this.

  No—she had to salvage the situation somehow. At least find a way to stick around until they both calmed down and came up with a way to dissolve the marriage amicably. She’d track Austin down and tell him what they’d just done was a fluke. A one-time deal. She’d never touch him again, and if he would just agree to allow her to stay hidden away on his ranch for a few weeks—until everything blew over—she would pay him handsomely for the favor.

  In cash—not in sex.

  She cringed when she thought of how she’d behaved. She’d exposed herself to him—let herself be vulnerable in a way she never did. And in the end he’d pushed her away.

  Halfway across the yard to the Hall, she heard a sound that had her spinning on her heel, looking beyond the bunkhouse toward the woods that edged the expansive lawn. What was that? An animal?

  Austin plunged out of the woods at full speed, as if chased by demons. He stopped short, doubled over, obviously heaving for air. At this distance she couldn’t make out his expression or fathom why he’d been racing through the trees. Nothing followed him out of the woods, which was some comfort. She frowned as he straightened up, walked around in a circle and suddenly dashed back into the forest.

  Ella stood for a long moment, trying to make up her mind what to do. Had Austin lost his mind? Was someone else with him out there?

  She couldn’t imagine who, or why.

  Despite the voice of reason telling her to race to the house, grab her suitcase a
nd call a taxi, she slowly walked toward the woods where she’d last seen him. What on earth was going on in those trees?

  By the time she made it close to the edge of the woods, he was nowhere to be seen, but two structures side by side had caught her attention. They looked like jungle gyms, the kind you saw on school playgrounds, with rungs that you swung across hand over hand. Why were they here?

  And why were there two of them?

  She moved closer, just as footsteps pounded toward her. A moment later, Austin burst out of the trees again and slid to a wheeling stop when he saw her.

  “Jesus!”

  “Sorry! I’m sorry!” She didn’t know why she was apologizing to the man who’d just nearly dropped her on her ass back in the bunkhouse, but she’d obviously scared him half to death.

  Austin paced, his shoulders heaving with each breath he took. He shook his head, but she forestalled whatever he was about to say.

  “What is this place?”

  “The… course,” he wheezed. “Obstacle course.” Another breath. “My father made it when we were kids.”

  “Oh.” She thought about that. “Why?”

  His face relaxed for a second and she was struck again by how handsome he was. Too handsome by far.

  “This is the way my father kept peace between four very troublesome boys.”

  She moved closer. Checked out the monkey bars which started the course off, then gazed farther into the woods to see the climbing wall that was the next obstacle.

  “You boys would run this? Against each other?”

  “Yep. Just about every day of my life growing up.”

  “And you’re still friends?”

  He shrugged, as if he didn’t understand the question. “We’re brothers.”

  “I don’t have any brothers. Or sisters.” She was hugging her arms to her chest again, something she did a lot these days. It was like she was trying to hold herself physically together. Or trying to protect herself from the outside world. “Didn’t all that competition make you hate each other?”