“Oh, well, okay,” Marielle replied. “Thanks. But honestly, Trey, I’m sure I’ll be just fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”
No, he probably didn’t have to, he thought. But he did. If something happened to Marielle … .well, he didn’t even want to think about it. It occurred to him that she’d become an integral part of his life. He couldn’t imagine not seeing her, talking to her, touching her ….
“I’ll only be gone a few days,” he said. “I’ll see you when I get back.” He strode to the door, then stopped and looked back. “Merry Christmas, Marielle Stevens,” he told her, then left before he lost all self-control and gave in to the nearly overwhelming impulses to hold her again—hold her so tightly that she’d never get away.
“I want to swing by and check on Marielle before we go on home,” Trey told Bandy a few days later. Their business completed satisfactorily, they were just getting back from the trip. He wheeled the truck into her drive. “I asked Ben to stop by and check on her for me while we were gone, make sure that she was okay.”
To his surprise, the ranger’s truck was parked in front of Marielle’s house. Trey and Bandy walked up onto the front porch and stood listening. They could hear a melody being picked out on a guitar from inside, and a pleasant tenor voice singing the words to a well known old western ballad. Trey frowned. He knocked sharply at the door. Marielle opened it, her lovely face happy and relaxed. She gave them a big smile and welcomed them home. Inside, Trey’s narrowed eyes immediately swung to Ben Connors, who was ensconced on the couch, strumming on a guitar. He looked real comfortable, Trey noticed irritably.
The ranger looked up and grinned. “Hey, Trey, Bandy. I didn’t expect you boys back so soon.” Trey snorted silently, and searched Ben’s benign face for signs of guilt. Uh-huh. Trey decided, no doubt about it. Ben might sit there with an innocent look, but it was plain to see he’d been up to something.
“Hey,” was Trey’s laconic reply. He didn’t care whether he’d been friends with Ben Connor all his life or not. Right now he didn’t feel too happy to see him.
“Ben’s been so nice,” Marielle said cheerfully. “He took his responsibility seriously, Trey. He’s come over and checked on me every day.” Right, thought Trey uncharitably. What a sacrifice. Personally, he thought that coming over here and serenading Marielle was over and above the call of duty. Ben must have decided to combine business with pleasure.
“Yeah, old buddy,” Ben told him, smiling serenely. “I kept an eye on her, just like you asked me to.”
Trey glared at him, tight-lipped. “Thanks,” he ground out through clenched teeth. Yeah, he jeered silently, probably both eyes—and hands, too, if he got half a chance. He turned to Bandy. “Well, come on, Bandy. We’d better head for the house.” He tipped his hat to Marielle in good-bye, and then swung around to Ben. “If you’re ready to leave, Ben, follow us to my place for a beer.” There, Trey told himself in satisfaction when Ben accepted the invitation. Got him out of there.
Driving home, Trey was silent and uncharacteristically morose. Inwardly, he fumed. That Ben Connor, he thought, feeling his temper rise. Of all the sneaky, backstabbing, sidewinding … .all he’d asked him to do was check on Mari from time to time, not hang around over there and court her! He was distracted from his jealous thoughts about his old friend by the sound of Bandy snickering. “What are you laughing at, you old mountain goat?” Trey asked hotly.
Bandy grinned. “What’s the matter, boss?” he asked slyly. “You afraid you’ve set a fox to guard the hen house?”
Marielle bathed and got ready for bed that night, then sat on the couch in front of the fire to dry her hair. She brushed it slowly, her mind still on the scene that had been enacted here earlier in the day. Trey had acted strangely. He’d told her that Ben was an old friend, but acted as if he disliked the man intensely—then invited him over for a beer. Her hand stilled, the brush in midstroke in its path through her long hair. She pursed her lips. Hmm. Was Trey jealous?
She sat up straighter, galvanized by the thought. Was that it? Her lips curved up in a smile of pleasure. The possibility of Trey feeling jealous about Ben made her oddly happy.
Rowdy suddenly got up from his warm spot at Marielle’s feet and went to the front door, whining and sniffling along the bottom of the doorjamb. Then Marielle heard footsteps on the wooden boards of the porch. She felt a flicker of alarm. It was late. Who’d be coming here at this hour? And how did they get here? She hadn’t heard a vehicle outside. She stood, wavering. Should she get the rifle? she wondered.
A sharp rap sounded on the door, and to her relief, she heard Trey’s familiar voice call her name. She yanked the door open and stood facing him.
“You scared me!” she scolded him. “I didn’t hear you pull up.” She laughed. “I was just wondering if I’d have to defend myself.”
“I rode my horse.” Trey looked pointedly at the brush still clutched in one hand and quirked an eyebrow quizzically. “And how were you going to defend yourself, Marielle? Beat someone to death with your hairbrush?”
She laughed. “No. I don’t mean to be rude, but why are you here?” she asked him curiously. She watched him closely as he paced around the room. He patted the puppy, took the poker and stirred up the fire, and fiddled with his hat before taking it off and hanging it on the rack by the door. She waited for him to answer her question. It looked like he planned on staying awhile.
“Trey?” she repeated. “Why did you come over here tonight?” He stood in front of her, staring at her intently, as though he were trying to memorize her features.
“I don’t know, Marielle,” he finally said. “And that’s the honest truth. I just don’t know.” He swallowed convulsively and she saw a muscle twitching in his square jaw. A sure sign, she’d come to learn, of his agitation. He reached out a hand and tentatively brushed it along her cheek. “I wanted—needed—to see you.”
Marielle stared back at him. Her heart thudded and her blood began a slow pounding in her veins. She felt that she stood at the edge of some tremendously important turning point in her life. Now, if she took that one last step, there would be no going back. She studied the man who faced her, taking in every detail of his features … his coal black hair, dark brown eyes, firm, sensuous lips, the angle of his masculine jaw where that telltale muscle twitched.
She’d tried so hard to ignore her own attraction to him, fought to subdue her feelings, told herself all the reasons why he was not for her. But as she studied him, this special man who’d come into her life and given it new meaning … she felt something happen deep inside her. The hope in her heart she’d tried to suppress was opening up and unfolding like the tightly furled petals of a flower opening its face to the warmth of the sun. She exhaled slowly, a deep, trembling sigh. Then she took that last step.
As Marielle came into his arms, Trey crushed her to him fiercely. He’d seen the answer to his unspoken question in her gorgeous green eyes. His hands roamed her pliant body feverishly and she melted into him, murmuring soft sounds of encouragement. He kissed her, thrusting his tongue urgently into her hot, wet mouth. She arched against him, raking her fingernails across his shoulders and whimpering small cries of pleasure.
His groin throbbed, aching with the need to satisfy his desire. He cupped both hands around her full bottom and pressed her to him tightly, wanting her to feel his almost painful arousal. Then, he suddenly swept her up in his arms and strode toward the bedroom. He set her down and began stripping off his clothes, as she pulled her long nightgown over her head and stepped out of it. He was thrilled that her impatience matched his own. They’d waited long enough, he thought, catching his breath in wonder at the sight of Marielle, naked in the moonlight.
A full moon shone through the window of her bedroom, casting its light on the breathtaking woman who stood in front of him, clothed only in its slivery glow. He paused and simply looked at her, marveling at her beauty.
Her perfect body glimmered with porcelain
whiteness. Her auburn hair tumbled around her cream shoulders and the peaks of her full breast stood up proudly, rosy-tipped and tantalizing. His eyes moved downward to her slender waist and lushly rounded hips. The nest of auburn curls at the mysterious vee of her womanhood, those impossibly long legs … .then back up to her incredible eyes, sparkling like jewels in the pale oval of her face. Her eyes beckoned him, enticed him. In their gleaming depths he saw a promise of ultimate pleasure … unending happiness … .everything he’d ever wanted; forever. He seized her hungrily, and pulled her down onto the featherbed, eager for forever to begin.
Marielle felt faint with pleasure and anticipation. Trey’s lean, muscled body rose above hers and she was breathless at the sight of his masculine beauty. Every inch of him was firm, solidly powerful male. She guided him to her, patient, wanting to feel him inside her … .filling the emptiness that cried out for the release that only he could provide. She cried out as he entered her, rose to him, urging him to bury himself deeply inside her. He groaned hoarsely as she rocked beneath him, shuddering with pleasure. Placing his hands beneath her writhing hips, Trey slowed his thrusts and whispered words of passion into her neck.
His hot breath on her skin drove Marielle into an even greater frenzy of need and desire. Accelerating the pace, craving release from the nearly unbearable sexual hunger surging though her body, she refused to be denied any long … and swept Trey along with her. As their bodies fused in the white-hot heat of fulfillment, she cried out his name.
Much later, toward morning, Marielle woke to find Trey propped on one elbow, regarding her lazily. He smiled at her tenderly. “Morning, tigress,” he said, a twinkle in his dark eyes. She grinned, then stretched and yawned luxuriously. Her skin still tingled from their lovemaking and her body felt pleasantly tired. All in all, she decided happily, she felt wonderful.
“Is it morning already?” she asked. “I thought that I only dozed off for a little while,” She smiled suggestively at Trey.
After their first heated lovemaking, they’d exchanged pillow talk and then embarked on another, slower round. Marielle felt deliciously sated. Trey was everything she’d ever fantasized about in a lover.
She’d laughed when he had admitted to being jealous of Ben Connor. Trey had been mollified by her firm denial of anything going on between herself and the forest ranger. Marielle felt gratified that Trey was a little territorial about her. She wouldn’t want a man who’d make her miserable with endless accusations and unfounded jealousy. But the fact that he displayed some possessiveness and was actually afraid of losing her to another man just showed her that she was important to him.
As he was to her, she thought now, studying the handsome face so close to hers. The shadow of a beard on his firm jaw only made him more rakishly attractive, she decided. He learned toward her and that shadow of a beard prickled her face delightfully as he kissed her. She almost purred with contentment.
“Actually, Mari,” he told her, his hands beginning a slow exploration of her body, “it isn’t quite morning yet. That’s why I woke you up, because this night isn’t finished yet. And until it is … .” He drawled, “neither am I.”
Marielle floated around the house the next morning on a cloud of bliss. Last night in Trey’s arms she’d felt a sense of utter wholeness, as though she’d found the elusive happiness that had been missing her entire life … and now she was complete. What an idiot she’d been, she reproached herself cheerfully, amazed in retrospect at her own stupidity. How could she have ever been afraid that love would take something away from her, or somehow make her less than she had been before?
Samantha had been right—it was shocking what love could do. And Marielle was in love with Trey. She knew now that she’d been falling steadily in love with him from the moment they’d met. She felt like hugging herself with joy over her unbelievably good fortune.
Marielle believed he loved her right back. When he’d left this morning, he’d said that he had something important to talk to her about. A small, secretive smile played at the corners of her lips. She felt that she already knew what he wanted to talk about.
If anyone had told her a month ago that she’d be eagerly awaiting a proposal of marriage, she’d have laughed. Now, here she was, ready to take that leap of faith and join her life with Trey’s … no longer afraid.
Trey whistled softly as he sat at his desk in his home office. His thoughts were full of Marielle … my Mari, he told himself with a thrill of possessive pride. He couldn’t believe now that he’d been such an idiot about her at first. Only a fool would have had any reservations about a woman like her. She was perfect.
Trey grinned broadly. Nearly perfect, he qualified, and chuckled fondly. She really did have a knack for getting herself into trouble. But he didn’t mind. He’d gladly make it his life’s work to rescue Marielle from whatever zany situation she got her beautiful self into. If she’d let him.
He leaned back in his chair, his expression sobering. What if she didn’t want him? After all, he was far from perfect himself. He had a good spread up here, made a good living by his standards, and was perfectly happy up here in these mountains. But would it seem like enough to Mari?
She had probably been used to more sophisticated guys back there in New York. She’d made brief mention of some man who’d dumped her when she lost her job at that publishing company. Trey scowled fiercely. In his opinion, she sure hadn’t lost anything there. But maybe she didn’t feel that way. Maybe she still carried a torch for that fellow.
No, he decided. No way. He knew his Mari well enough by now to know that she couldn’t have taken him to her bed last night and made such passionate love to him unless she cared for him—Trey. She loved him. He was sure of that. They hadn’t talked about their feelings for each other last night. He smiled. They hadn’t had much time for talking. But their bodies had spoken the age-old language of love to each other.
Marielle loved him. Now he had to work on overcoming the aversion she seemed to have toward marriage. He’d just have to convince her that being married didn’t have to be bad—that it wouldn’t be bad for them and that, in fact, it was a good thing. The two of them spending the rest of their lives together … living, laughing, loving together … the way it was supposed to be.
He really couldn’t understand why she was so dead set against it, he thought, puzzled. Then he laughed as the irony of it struck him: just a short while ago, he was the one that was doggedly determined never to take that walk down the aisle again.
Now, for the life of him, he couldn’t remember why.
Marielle fed the horses and pitched in some fresh hay for them to munch on. And munch they did, she thought dryly. Whoever had coined the phrase eats like a horse sure knew what they were talking about. The puppy trotted at her heels. Trey had explained that his training as a herd dog wouldn’t start until he was older.
Trey had explained so many things to her, she thought. Love and gratitude welled up inside her for the things he’d done for her all along. He had made it so much easier for her to live up here, with his patience, his kindness, and … .his forbearance about some of the ridiculous messes she’d gotten herself into.
Marielle felt blessed to have met this wonderful man and to have earned his love. At this moment, she felt that her life couldn’t be more perfect. All that was lacking, she mused pleasantly, were a few little Mastersons running around. She wondered if their children would have red or black hair. But it didn’t matter, she decided. Either way would be fine.
Marielle felt a brief flicker of caution. Maybe she was assuming too much, too soon. She forced herself to rein in her imagination for the time being. Once they talked, and he confirmed in words what her heart already knew, then she could indulge in these beautiful daydreams.
Back at the house, Marielle worked on getting her sample portfolio ready to send to New York. She’d decided to take it down into Jackson Hole and send it overnight express. She looked up from the package when someone knocked
at the front door. Her heart flew to her throat. Trey! She thought, crossing the room eagerly to let him in. She hadn’t expected him until later. To her disappointment, although she did her best to hit it, it wasn’t Trey. It was Bandy.
“Howdy, Miss Mari,” he greeted her, a broad smile creasing his face. “How ya doin’?”
“Just fine, Bandy. How are you?” she asked.
“I’m making a run down to Jackson,” he said. “The boss said you mentioned something about a package you need to send off today. He sent me by here to get it and mail it for you. Save you a trip.”
“Oh, thanks, Bandy. That would be great. I was getting it ready to go. It will only take a few more minutes, if you can wait,” she told him. “How about a cup of coffee?”
“I ain’t in no big hurry,” Band assured her. “And I don’t never turn down a cup of coffee,” the old man added, laughing as he sat down on the sofa.
Marielle brewed fresh coffee. On her way out of the kitchen with Bandy’s cup, she grabbed the box of Godiva chocolates from the counter that Samantha had sent her for Christmas. She’d heard Trey and the boys teasing the old man about his sweet tooth. He might enjoy the candy.
Bandy sipped the hot brew appreciatively. “Miss Mari, this is some fine coffee.”
“Thanks. My friend Sam sends it to me from New York,” she said absently, intent on getting her package together.
“And this candy is the best I’ve ever tasted, bar none,” Bandy commented. “Does it come from New York, too?”
“Yes, that was my Christmas present from Sam,” Marielle replied, preoccupied with her task. The stupid tape was sticking to her fingers instead of the package.
The phone rang. She swore silently, exasperated as she untangled her hands from the tape and answered it.
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