Her eyes lit up at his words. She’d hoped he’d still wanted her, but she hadn’t been sure. “I don’t want to be rescued today.”
Harry broke eye contact and took in a deep audible breath, then let it out with a sigh. “I think we’d better finish the cake.”
“That might be dangerous.”
His brows furrowed in puzzlement. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve heard that Red’s cake is quite an aphrodisiac,” Melissa said in a husky voice.
Harry, who had been walking back to the sofa, stopped in his tracks. “Um, I see. I—I think I’ll keep my piece for later.”
“Really?” she said, pursing her lips in a pout, as she’d done when she’d first spoken to him in the steak house.
“Don’t do that!”
“What?” she asked, her eyes rounding in mock innocence.
“That thing with your lips.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m going to lose control!”
“Why don’t you?”
“Because you would regret it. I’m not…good enough for a Randall.”
Putting her hands on her hips, she stared at him. “Then why were you kissing me all over town?”
“Because you were leaving. There was no danger that—that I’d lose my heart and risk getting it broken.” He stood with his head down, like a horse that had been ridden to the point of exhaustion.
Melissa stepped closer to him. “What if I lost my heart, too?”
He stared at her. “Don’t play tricks on me, Melissa. If sex is all you want, I know some guys who would oblige you. But—but I can’t…”
“Can’t what?”
“I can’t make love to you and let you go. I’d expect more than a one-night stand. I’d expect something to last a lifetime. And that’s the only way I’m going to have sex with you!” His hands were on his hips as he faced her with his ultimatum.
With a saucy smile on her lips, she said, “Okay.”
“Okay what?”
“A lifetime seems long enough to me.”
“Melissa, I—”
Before he could say anything else, she flew into his arms, eager to erase the pain in his eyes. “Harry, do I have to beg you to love me? Because I will. I want a lifetime with you and no one else.”
He wrapped his arms around her and tasted those pouty lips he adored. After a moment, he said, “Are you sure? I’m only a deputy sheriff. I don’t make that much money and—”
“I’m not marrying you for your money, Harry.”
“But people will think I’m marrying you for yours! That might be hard to take.”
She crossed her hands at the back of his neck and stepped even closer until there was nothing between them, not even air. “How about we marry just because we love each other? Mike and Caroline are making it work.”
“Yeah, but Mike makes more than me.”
Melissa gave him a crooked smile. “So you think it’s Mike’s money that’s paying for that house?”
“The new one? Well, I assumed— You don’t think he is?”
“No. Even for Rawhide, that’s an expensive place. But it’s what they need to take good care of their children. And that’s what matters. No one says anything about them, do they?”
“No, because everyone can see that Mike’s crazy about Caro. And vice versa.”
Melissa brought her lips within a hairs breadth of his. “I’m crazy about you, Harry Gowan. Are you crazy about me?”
“Of course I am, but—”
“I’ve never had to work this hard in my life to get a man to kiss me!” she exclaimed with a sigh.
“I did kiss you!”
“Well can you kiss me again? It’s been so long, I forgot what it feels like.” Actually, that couldn’t be further from the truth. Melissa remembered every one of Harry’s kisses—out on the sidewalk, in his apartment. She could never forget them.
He tightened his hold on her and, his chocolate eyes never leaving hers, brought his lips down slowly, millimeter by millimeter. By the time they touched hers, Melissa was about to melt in a pool at his feet.
At first the kiss was soft and tender, then, with little urging, he deepened it, his tongue darting out to dance with hers. She moaned into his mouth, all the pent-up longing escaping in one heartfelt whoosh.
“Oh, Harry,” she rasped when he broke away, “you are a wonderful kisser.”
He grinned at her, and she noticed a dimple in his right cheek she’d never seen before. She suspected that for the rest of her days she’d be discovering new things about this man, and she looked forward to every one.
“You’re not bad yourself,” he teased.
She pretended annoyance. “Not bad? I rate you a ten, and you give me…what? A five?” But she couldn’t hold back her smile. “Come here, deputy. Let’s try it again.”
“Damn, woman, you’re tempting me!”
She pulled his head down. “I’m trying my best. Is it working?”
“Oh, yeah.” With one swift motion, he swept her off her feet and into his arms, then strode away, carrying her to his bedroom.
Melissa had to admit she liked a man of action. She wrapped her arms around him and settled her head in the crook of his neck. She could hardly believe this was about to happen, when yesterday she’d almost given up all hope. She smiled against his woodsy-smelling skin. “I thought it would take more than kisses to convince you, Harry.”
“I’m convinced, sweetheart. I’ve been convinced ever since the first night I saw you, sitting by yourself in the bar.” Not breaking stride, he met her eyes. “I love you, Melissa. For a lifetime, forever. Do you love me?”
Her heart was pounding so hard, she reasoned it was good that she was in his arms; her legs wouldn’t hold her at the moment. Other men had said those three little words to her, but none had had the effect that he did. “Oh, yes, Harry, I do love you. I thought I was just playing a game, but I soon found out I needed your kisses to survive.”
“Well, I definitely want you to survive, so here.” He kissed her then, never breaking contact as he put her down at the foot of his bed.
Melissa soon realized she needed more than Harry’s kisses; she needed all of him.
As their kisses grew more heated, she reached out to his shirt, undoing one button at a time and allowing her hot breath to trail down over his exposed skin. She could feel the heavy pounding of his heart, matching her own.
Harry grabbed her hands before they could reach the bottom button, tucked into his slacks. “My turn,” he whispered. And he proceeded to do the same to her.
When he exposed the top swells of her breasts, he lingered there a moment, cupping them in his big, sure hands. Those hands were about to slip the blouse from her shoulders when suddenly they came to an abrupt halt.
“What is it, Harry? Is something wrong?”
His eyes looked nearly tortured when he finally raised them to hers. Even in the dim room she could see the emotion on his face. “I want to make love to you—”
“I want it, too.” She reached out to him.
He sidestepped, running a hand through his thick hair. “But I keep picturing your father, imagining him barging through my door, coming to claim you.” He shook his head. “I just keep thinking that, even though you say he was matchmaking, he sure has worked hard to keep us apart.” Harry looked at her again. “What if he doesn’t want you to marry me?”
She heard the anguish in his voice, the uncertainty. But she knew there was no need for it. “So there’s the phone,” she said, pointing to it on his bedside table. “Call him and find out.”
Harry looked incredulous. “You want me to ask your father if it’s okay to make love to you? Melissa, he’ll come after me with a shotgun!”
She couldn’t help but laugh, in spite of his seriousness. “Not if you tell him you’re going to marry me.”
He took a moment to debate. Then he nodded. “I guess so.” Walking to the phone, he stopped and turned around to lo
ok at her. “And you’re sure?”
“Oh, yes!”
He dialed the number at the ranch, and over the phone, Melissa heard her father’s deep voice answer.
“Griff, I, uh…sorry to bother you, but there was something I needed to tell you.” Harry wasted no time changing that last part. “Ask you.” Taking a deep breath, he said in a rush, “I’d like your permission to marry Melissa. I hope you and Camille will approve.”
Just hearing those words made Melissa warm inside. She stepped next to him, flinging her arms around him and hugging him to her.
There were raised voices on the other end of the line, then she finally heard her father say clearly, “That’s perfect, Son. When’s the date?”
Harry covered the mouthpiece with his hand and looked down at her. Relief found a home on his face. “Your dad wants to know the date.”
“I hadn’t even thought of that.” Frantically she went through the calendar in her mind. “I—I have to go back to Paris…I’d really like for you to come with me. That could be our honeymoon.”
“So should I tell him we’ll marry after Christmas?” Harry looked eager to get off the phone now.
“Or we could go between Thanksgiving and Christmas. How about that?” she asked him.
He leaned down for a quick kiss. “I’d like that better. I don’t think I’m going to be able to keep my hands off you in public for too long.”
She smiled at him. “Me, neither. We can make the announcement at Thanksgiving dinner, assuming everyone doesn’t know by then.”
Harry told Griff what they’d decided. “Would that be all right?”
“Let me tell Camille,” Griff said, and covered his receiver in turn. “She says that’ll be perfect, but she’d have to get started at once. How about the Sunday after Thanksgiving?”
“You’ll have to ask Melissa.” Harry handed her the phone.
“Mom, are you going to be all right with this? I don’t want you to overdo,” she said worriedly.
“I’m fine. With a wedding to plan, I’ll be even better.” She went to talking about details, as if she’d already been planning this day in her head.
But Melissa was having a hard time following her mother. Harry had begun to remove her blouse.
He tugged it off one shoulder, then bent to kiss the skin there. His free hand roamed her back, tracing slow, seductive circles, until it stopped at her bra. Deftly he snapped it open, and Melissa nearly shrieked into the phone.
She cleared her throat. “Uh, Mom, I have to go now. We’ll talk more when I get home.”
“When should we expect you, dear?” her mother asked.
Melissa looked at Harry and saw the desire in his gaze. “Morning, I think. Bye.” Without hesitation she dropped the phone in its charger and went into his arms.
“What about the morning?” Harry asked as he shed her blouse and bra.
“Mom wanted to know when I’d be— Oh, yes,” she moaned as he cupped her breasts and kissed each one.
“When you’d what?” His breath was hot on her body.
“When I’d be home.” She went back to work on his clothes, pushing his shirt over his shoulders.
“So you’re staying the night?”
“Am I not invited?” she teased, looking up at him with a pout.
“Oh, yeah. That just means I can take my time and do this properly, Melissa Randall-soon-to-be-Gowan.”
“Hmm,” Melissa said dreamily, “I think I’ll name my company MRG. That’ll be perfect.”
“Yes, it will,” he agreed as he slid down the zipper of her jeans. Stepping back, he lowered them inch by agonizing inch, running his palms down her legs until he pulled the pants off completely.
Standing there only in her panties, she looked down at him crouched on the floor. “Why am I almost bare and you still have on all your clothes?”
“Because I work faster than you?” he asked with a grin.
She reaching out for him then, and when he stood, she stripped him in the same torturous way he’d done her. When they were both naked, Harry took it upon himself to explore every inch of her body. “Oh, Harry, I—” She gasped as he took her nipple into his mouth and sucked. “Yes, there.”
“That’s right, sweetheart. Tell, me what you like.”
“I like you, Harry. Just you.”
He looked up at her, his gaze intent. “I thought you loved me,” he teased.
“I do love you. I was talking about what I liked…in bed.”
He swooped her up once again. “Then let’s get in bed.” Laying her down on his comforter, he let his eyes rake every inch of her. And she did the same. Everyone had told her that Harry was so modest. Well, there was nothing modest about him. Now he stood there, letting her look.
That day in the workout room was nothing compared to this. Then she’d only glimpsed his broad, muscular chest. Now she got to feast on it. And all the rest of him.
He opened a bedside drawer and took out a foil-wrapped package.
It dawned on Melissa then that they’d never talked about children.
“Do you want to have kids, Harry?” she blurted.
He let out a laugh. “I do, but not right now.”
“Me, too. I want a whole bunch of them. But I’d like to wait until I get my company up and running.”
“That’s what I figured.” He took care of the protection and joined her on the bed, taking her in his arms again. “We’ve got lots of time to talk and plan, Melissa. For now, we have other things to do.”
She smiled. “That’s what I like about you, Harry. You have your priorities in order.” She reached up to him, and this time he took her places she’d never been before. In no time she needed more of him, all of him.
Harry leaned back as he entered her, watching her as he sheathed himself inside her. And her own gaze never wavered. Though it’d been little more than a week since they’d met, it seemed as if she’d waited forever to be with Harry Gowan, and she wasn’t going to close her eyes and miss a minute of it.
She hung on to him, matching his rhythm, and called out his name in a breathless gasp as they climaxed together. She wondered then what it would be like making love to Harry when they’d actually gotten to know each other’s bodies. Could it be better than this?
Harry hoisted himself on his elbows, gazing down at her and stroking her face with his thumbs. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“Oh, yeah.”
He leaned over and kissed her lips. “I love your lips, by the way.”
“I love yours, too. And every other part of you.”
“I’m glad you told your mother you’d be spending the night. I don’t think I want to leave this bed till morning.” He grinned then as she started to move her hips again in an enticing pattern. “I think I may need a few minutes,” he admitted, looking at her with twinkling eyes.
But Melissa knew better. She could feel him growing hard already. Still, she teased, “Or you could always go to the chocolate cake.”
SOMETHING DISTURBED Harry’s sleep. He opened his eyes to find Melissa next to him, one arm and leg wrapped over him, holding him close. He decided he liked waking up that way.
Then the phone rang again and he reached over her to grab it.
She opened her eyes. “What—”
“It’s just the phone. Go back to sleep,” he told her, hoping to God it wasn’t Griff changing his mind about him.
“Hello?” he murmured tentatively.
“Harry, it’s Mike. I know we had this conversation earlier, but I think you should come out to the ranch for Thanksgiving dinner like you always do. It makes no sense—”
“Okay,” Harry said calmly, stopping Mike’s argument.
Mike remained silent for a moment, then said, “You agree?”
“I sure do.”
“What changed your mind?”
Harry looked down at the woman in his bed, the one who’d just driven him wild with her lovemaking. “Let’s just say I saw the light.�
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He clicked off the phone then and wrapped her in his arms, ready to go back to sleep. But Melissa stirred, asking sleepily, “Who was that?”
“Mike. He wanted to make sure I came to Thanksgiving dinner at the ranch. I told him I’d be there.”
As if spurred, Melissa jumped up. “I forgot to tell you. Sorry, but I had other things on my mind last night.” She wiggled her brows and grinned. “I saw Mike and Caroline’s house and I loved it. Dad offered to buy it for me if I’d stay here, and I took him up on the offer.”
“He doesn’t have to do that. I—”
She put a finger on his lips, silencing him. “He deserves to pay, Harry. He was trying to pressure me to stay.”
“But that’s because you told him you were leaving.”
“Yes, but he should’ve had faith that I’d make the right decision on my own.”
Harry knew this was an argument he wasn’t going to win. But he still wasn’t happy with Griff buying the house he was going to live in. “I can buy the house, Melissa.”
“But it’s Dad’s wedding present to us. You can’t say no to a present.”
He had a feeling he’d never be able to say no to her, either. “Seems a rather extravagant gift,” he muttered.
“Maybe,” she said as she stroked his chest, “but I’m only going to get married once.”
“You got that right.” He watched her hand as it discovered his scar. As her palm slid lower on his torso, he felt himself become aroused. “I don’t think I’m going to need that chocolate cake.”
“Oh, really?” Melissa looked up at him, feigning innocence.
“You are a tease, Melissa Randall,” Harry growled, capturing her hand.
“Yes, I am,” she agreed as her lips met his.
Harry figured they’d save their dessert for another day. If he ever needed it at all.
Epilogue
Jake Randall stood up at the head of the table and asked the blessing for their Thanksgiving Day dinner. Several golden-brown turkeys, as well as bowls of potatoes, vegetables and homemade breads, weighted down the table, all made by Red and Mildred, who at their advanced age still prided themselves on how well they took care of the Randall clan.
A Randall Thanksgiving Page 17
