Terms of Engagement

by Ann Major

  He touched her breasts, her slender waist, the thatch of silken curls where her thighs were joined. He pressed his lips to all those secret places so reverently that his kisses transcended the physical.

  “Better.” He smiled. “I told you that you’d change your mind about sex.” Triumphantly, he skimmed his mouth along her jawline. With each kiss that he bestowed, she claimed another piece of his heart.

  “That you did. Are you always right? Is that how you became so rich?”

  He kissed her earlobe, chuckling when she shivered in response.

  “Focus is the key in so many endeavors. It only took a day, and I didn’t once try to seduce you, now, did I?”

  “Stop crowing like a rooster who’s conquered a henhouse! I see you brought plenty of protection…which means you intended this to happen.”

  “I was hopeful. I usually feel optimistic about achieving my goals.” He trailed the tip of his tongue along her collarbone.

  She moved restlessly beneath him. “You’re rubbing it in, and I said don’t gloat.” When he licked her earlobe again, she shuddered, causing a blazing rush of fire to sizzle through him. “Just do it,” she begged.

  “Why are you always in such a hurry, sweet Kira?”

  Because she was unable to take her eyes from his face, she blew out a breath. Except for clenching her fingers and pressing her lips together, she lay still, as if fighting for patience.

  “After all,” he continued, “for all practical purposes, this is our wedding night.”

  Her quick scowl made him wonder why the hell he’d reminded them both of the marriage he’d forced her into.

  Before she could protest, he kissed her lips. Soon her breathing was deep and ragged, and it wasn’t long until she was quivering beneath his lips and begging him for more.

  Her hands moved over his chest and then lower, down his torso and dipping lower still. When her fingers finally curled firmly around the swollen length of his shaft, he shuddered. Soon she had him as hot and eager to hurry as she was. He was out of control, completely in her thrall.

  “I bet we’re on the same page now,” she said huskily, a triumphant lilt in her husky tone.

  “Sexy, wanton witch.” Unwrapping a condom, he sheathed himself.

  Compelled to claim her as his, he plunged into tight, satiny warmth. Stomach to stomach. Thigh to thigh. The moment he was inside her, she wrapped her legs around his waist and urged him even deeper.

  “Yes,” she whispered as a tortured moan was torn from her lips.

  “Yes,” he growled, holding her even closer.

  Then, some force began to build as he stroked in and out of her, his rhythm growing as hard and steady as the surf dancing rhythmically against the shore. His blood heated; his heart drummed faster. When he fought to slow down, she clung tighter, writhing, begging, urging him not to stop—shattering what was left of his fragile control.

  With a savage cry, he climaxed. She felt so good, so soft, so delectable. Grabbing her bottom, he ground himself into her, plunging deeper. As she arched against him, he spilled himself inside her.

  She went wild, trembling, screaming his name, and her excitement sent him over the fatal edge he’d vowed never to cross. Walls inside him tumbled. He didn’t want to feel like this—not toward her, not toward any woman.

  But he did.

  Long minutes after he rolled off her, he lay beside her, fighting for breath and control.

  “Wow,” she said.

  Even though sex had never felt so intense before, he didn’t trust his feelings. Why give her any more power than she already had by admitting them? But though he confessed nothing, her sweet warmth invaded him, soothing all the broken parts of his soul.

  She sidled closer and touched his lips with feverish fingertips, her eyes alight with sensual invitation. As she stroked his mouth and cheek teasingly, desire sizzled through him. He was rock-hard in another instant.

  No way in hell would one time suffice. For either of them. With one sure, swift movement, he slid nearer so that his sex touched hers. When she stared up at him hungrily, he kissed her brow, her eyelids and then the tip of her pert nose. Then he edged lower, kissing her breasts and navel. Spreading her legs, he went all the way down, laving those sweet forbidden lips that opened to him like the silken petals of a warm flower. The tip of his tongue flicked inside, causing her to moan.

  “Darlin’,” he said softly. “You’re perfect.”

  “I want you inside me. So much.”

  He wanted that, too, so he eased into her, gently this time, and held her tight against him. How could she feel so wonderful in his arms? So right? Like she belonged there, always, till the end of time? How could this be? She was Earl’s daughter, a woman he’d coerced into marriage.

  “How can this be?” she asked, her words mirroring his dark thoughts.

  He took his time, and when it ended in violent, bittersweet waves of mutual passion, he felt again the inexplicable peace that left no space for hate or thoughts of revenge. He simply wanted her, wanted to be with her. He didn’t want to hurt anything or anybody she loved.

  “You’re dangerously addictive,” he whispered against her earlobe.

  Her sweet face was flushed; her lips bruised and swollen from his kisses.

  “So are you,” she said with a tremulous smile even as her wary eyes reminded him that she hadn’t married him for this. “This wasn’t supposed to happen, was it? You didn’t want this connection any more than I did.”

  “No…” His mood darkened as he remembered she didn’t believe this was a real marriage.

  His old doubts hit him with sweeping force. Tomorrow…if it would make her happy, he’d swear to her he’d never touch her again. But not tonight. Tonight, he had to hold her close, breathe in her scent, lose himself in her…dream of a different kind of life with her.

  Just for tonight she was completely his.

  Hugging him close, she sighed and fell asleep. Beside her, he lay awake for hours watching her beautiful face in the dark, longing and…wishing for the impossible.

  When Kira awoke, her arms and legs were tangled around Quinn’s. She’d slept so well. For a fleeting instant she felt happy just to be with him.

  Last night he’d made her feel precious and adored. Until…the end. With a frown, she remembered how tense and uncertain he’d seemed right before he’d crushed her close and she’d fallen asleep in his arms.

  How could she have thrown herself at him? Begged him? He was determined never to love again. Sex, even great sex, would not change his mind.

  Despite regrets and misgivings, the gray morning was beautiful. Rain was falling softly, scenting the island with its freshness. A gentle breeze whirred in the eaves while dazzling sunlight splashed the far wall with vivid white.

  Had she been sure of Quinn’s love, it would have felt romantic to be nestled so warmly in his strong arms. She would have reveled in the sensual heat created by his breath stirring her hair.

  But wrapped in cocoonlike warmth with him when she knew he couldn’t ever care for her only aroused longings for forbidden things like friendship and affection.

  He was going to break her heart. She knew it.

  Slowly, she shifted to her side of the bed. Careful not to wake him, she eased herself to her feet. When he smiled in his sleep, she couldn’t help thinking him the most stunningly handsome man she’d ever seen.

  He looked so relaxed. So peaceful. Last night, he’d taken great care to make her happy in bed. Longing to brush his thick hair away from his brow filled her. Because of what they’d shared, she simply wanted to touch him.

  No… She had to remember his experience. He was probably just a great lover and had taken no special pains with her.

  Fearing she’d accidentally awaken him if she didn’t stop gaping at his virile, male beauty, she tiptoed onto the breezeway where salty air assaulted her. When her tummy flipped violently, causing a brief dizzy spell, she sank against the doorjamb.

 
; After a deep breath, the dizziness loosened its hold. She wasn’t sick exactly, but her face felt clammy and she was queasy in a way she’d never been before.

  Alarmed, she swallowed. Shakily, she smoothed her damp hair back from her face.

  Again, she remembered that Quinn hadn’t used a condom their first time in bed. In her head, she began to count the days since her last period, which she already knew was a little late. It was time…past time…for her period to start…and under the circumstances, her odd light-headedness made her anxious.

  What if she were pregnant? How would Quinn react? He had not married her because he loved her or wanted a family. Quite the opposite. He’d used protection every single time since that first lapse. She’d never want to force him to stay married to her because of a baby. She wanted love, acceptance. Making their marriage of convenience a permanent situation was the best way to guarantee she’d never find it.

  Quickly, she said a little prayer and decided not to borrow trouble just yet. Why upset him until she knew for sure? Still, no matter how she denied it, a seed of worry had taken root.

  By the time Quinn had awakened, yanked on his jeans and called for her, Kira had had her first cup of coffee and felt almost calm enough to face him. As she sat on the front porch, she watched the last gusts of the storm whip the high waves into a frenzy and hurl them against the shore.

  At the sound of his approaching footsteps her belly tightened. Then she reminded herself there had only been one lapse…so there really wasn’t much danger of pregnancy, was there?

  “Kira?”

  Concentrating on the angry seas, she wondered how soon the waves would calm down enough for them to leave. When she heard Quinn turning away from the porch, maybe because she hadn’t answered, and stomping around somewhere inside the kitchen calling her name, she sensed he was out of sorts, too.

  The door behind her creaked.

  “Why didn’t you answer when I called you?” His low voice was harsh, uncertain. “Avoiding me, are you?”

  She didn’t turn around to look at him. “Maybe I didn’t hear you.”

  “Maybe you did.”

  “The seas are still so high, it may be a while before we can leave,” she said.

  “I see. After last night, you’re too embarrassed to talk about anything but the weather. Are you blaming me because I didn’t stick to our no-sex deal?”

  Hot color climbed her cheeks. “No. I know that what happened was as much my fault as yours.”

  “But you don’t like it.”

  “Look, what I don’t like is being bullied into this marriage in the first place.”

  “Right.”

  “If you hadn’t forced me to marry you, we wouldn’t be trapped on this island together. Then last night wouldn’t have happened.”

  “Okay, then. So, am I to assume from your mutinous expression that you want to go back to our no-sex deal?”

  Why were men always so maddeningly literal? All she wanted was a little reassurance. Instead, he’d launched into the blame game.

  Well, she wasn’t about to admit she’d craved him last night or that she’d enjoyed everything they’d done together. Nor would she admit that despite everything, she still wanted him. That the last thing she wanted was their no-sex deal. To admit any of that would prove her irrational and give him too much power over her.

  When she sat staring at the stormy gulf in silence, he squared his shoulders. “It’s too bad the waters are so rough and you’re stuck with me, but if we’ve waited it out this long, I don’t intend to push our luck by trying to take the tender out when we could capsize. I’m hungry. Do you want to share that last can of pork and beans with me for breakfast or not?”

  The mere thought of canned pork and beans made her mouth go dry and her tummy flip. Within seconds, she began to perspire.

  “Or not,” she whispered, shaking her head fiercely as she inhaled a deep breath to settle her stomach.

  “Are you all right? You look a little pale,” he said, stepping closer. “Sick almost.”

  “I’m fine,” she snapped, turning away so he couldn’t read her face.

  “I wasn’t too rough last night, was I?” he asked, the genuine concern in his low tone touching her.

  “The less said about what happened the better!”

  With a weary look, he nodded. “I talked to my captain via satellite phone. Pegasus held up well under the rough seas and squalls. The crew had a bit of a bad night, but other than a case or two of seasickness, all is well.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “Look, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry I reneged on our bargain and made love to you.”

  She knotted her hands and unknotted them.

  “I took advantage.”

  “No, you didn’t! I was the one who ran out in the storm and lured you after me!” She jumped up. Hugging herself, she walked over to the window. “I’m sure any man would have done the same.”

  “Look, I’m not just some guy you picked up off the street who is out to get what he can get.”

  She whirled on him. “Whatever you may think because of that night we shared in San Antonio, I don’t do one-night stands, either!”

  “I know that. I believe that. I wouldn’t have married you otherwise.”

  “I wonder. Did anything besides my last name really matter to you?”

  His face went cold. “I’m your husband. Last night I knew what you wanted and what you didn’t want. But in the end, it didn’t matter.”

  “You told me you’d have me in your bed in no time, and you did. So why don’t you chalk up another win for your side in your little plan to get revenge against my father.”

  “Damn it. Because that’s not how I feel about it! Or about you!”

  “Don’t romanticize what happened! We were bored and trapped. Big deal. It’s over.”

  “The hell it is.”

  “Ours is only a marriage of convenience.”

  “Do you have to constantly remind me of that?”

  “Why not, if it’s the truth?”

  “Is it? Does it have to be?”

  “Yes! Yes!”

  He was silent for a long moment. “If that’s really how you feel, I won’t sleep with you again. You can have your marriage of convenience—permanently. I hope it makes you happy!”

  His cold announcement chilled her. Not that she was about to let him see how hurt she felt.

  “Great! Now that that’s settled, go! Eat your beans and leave me alone!”

  “All right. And after I eat them, I’m going out. For a walk. To check on the tender. And I won’t be back till the storm’s over.”

  “Great! Perfect!”

  When he slammed out of the porch and stalked toward the kitchen, her stomach twisted sharply. She felt ill, really ill. Clutching her stomach, she ran out the back door so he wouldn’t see, knelt on the damp sand in the lightly falling rain, and was sick.

  She was pregnant. She just knew she was.

  His strides long and quick because he was anxious to get as far from the house—and from her—as fast as he could, Quinn stalked down the beach toward the dock. As his heels thudded into the deep sand, his head pounded viciously. Their quarrel had given him the headache from hell.

  How different he felt now than he had when he’d first woken up. The air had smelled so fresh. He’d lain in bed, his eyes closed, drinking in a contentment he hadn’t known in years. Then, he’d reached for her and discovered cool sheets instead of her warm, silky body, and some part of him had gone cold.

  He didn’t regret his harsh words because she’d smashed his heart. He didn’t regret the sex, either. She’d been sweet, and she’d felt too good—so good that just thinking of her naked and writhing in his arms, her shining eyes big as she’d begged for more had him brick-hard all over again.

  When he saw the dock up ahead and the tender riding the waves, he felt intense relief.

  He wasn’t used to second-guessing himself or feeling the slightes
t guilt or confusion after sex. In his whole life he’d never awakened beside a woman who hadn’t wanted him. Quite the opposite. They always clung, wanting more than he could give. Then he’d be the one to pull away. With her, he felt different. That’s probably why he’d been fool enough to marry her.

  From the moment Kira had shown up in his office to beg him not to marry her sister, he’d changed all the rules he’d lived by for so long. She’d tangled his emotions into a painful knot.

  For some insane, ridiculous reason, he wanted to please her. He’d actually hoped she’d be happier with him after last night, so her obvious misery this morning ate at him all the more.

  In his frustration, he broke into a jog. His marriage be damned. The sooner he ended this farce of a honeymoon and got back to business the better.

  From now on, their marriage would be as she wished—all for show. He’d ignore the hell out of her except when there were in public.

  When he reached the dock, he grabbed the stern line. After snugging the tender closer, he sprang on board.

  Crafted of teak for the turbulent waters of the North Sea, she was an efficient, self-bailing craft. Maybe that was why she hadn’t sunk. Also, the dock was on the leeward side of the island and in a well-protected cove.

  He started the engine and smiled grimly when it purred to life. Once he made sure the tender was sound, he shut it off, sat down and let the wind buffet him.

  In no mood to return to the house or to his wife, he kept an eye on the distant horizon. As soon as the seas calmed, he’d take his bride home and get back to work. He’d lose himself in negotiations with the European Union and forget all about Kira.

  His marriage was turning out to be the last thing from convenient, whatever Kira might say to the contrary.

  Twelve

  Quinn spoke to her as little as possible now.

  If Kira had wondered how long Quinn would pretend to be interested in her, she had her answer and was miserable as a result.

  No sooner had they returned to San Antonio than he’d made it clear he intended to live as he had before his marriage—working nearly every waking hour.