She wouldn’t say goodbye, not this time. He’d tie her to him with chains of desire and with children.
Rolling her onto her back, he let his body cover hers, chest to breast, hips to hips, need to need. “Am I too heavy?” he growled.
“No. I want you, Hunter.”
Was she telling the truth? Did she want him nearly as much as he wanted her? It wasn’t possible. Rising on his elbows, he kissed her face, and her neck, and her breasts until she was writhing restlessly under him. When he kissed her navel, her fingers delved into his hair. He kissed down farther and farther until she almost sat up.
“Hunter…”
“Shh. I’m going to kiss you everywhere.”
And he did, until her hands clutched at his shoulders, until a sweet cry broke from her lips. Then he buried himself inside her. When he started moving, he could feel her pleasure coiling and breaking again. She cried his name, and he kissed her with a ferocious passion that screamed for release.
Minutes later he found it with a soul-shattering intensity that made him wish he could control his need, made him wish he could hold back his desire. He hated feeling vulnerable, and he felt that way when he joined with her. But he knew how to guard himself and he knew how to hide vulnerability. While he was doing that, he’d pray that Eve conceived his child.
MacMillan’s Garden Center, on the outskirts of Birch Creek, had a wonderful reputation. Eve parked on the gravel outside the white gates that opened into the nursery.
She and Hunter had moved into the house two weeks after they’d gotten back from Savannah. Although new furniture had been delivered and everything they’d shipped from Savannah had arrived, she was still decorating and finding special pieces one by one.
Last week she’d been shopping in downtown Denver and had stopped at an art gallery. The conversation had turned into a part-time job and Eve was happy about that. Hunter often worked long hours. Decorating the house was fun, but she’d soon be finished. Working at the gallery would give her something fulfilling to do.
They’d been married for six weeks now, and she and Hunter had settled into a routine. But he was still distant. She couldn’t seem to break through the barriers he’d erected around himself. The only time she really felt one with him was when they made love. He was a wonderful lover, giving her so much pleasure she felt she could die from it. But she wanted so much more than pleasure from him. Still praying their marriage could be more than a convenient way of life, she was going to show him she loved him every day—with every word, with every touch, with everything she did—and maybe eventually he’d realize he could trust her.
Maybe someday soon she could tell him how much she loved him…had always loved him.
The sun shone brightly on the greenhouses and the path of crushed marble leading into the nursery. There were a few customers here and there, pointing, looking, wandering up and down the rows of flowers, bushes and trees. Eve found her way to the perennials and the flats of geraniums. The pink ones caught her eye.
“Can I help you?”
Eve turned to find a pretty woman with honey-blond hair tied back in a ponytail, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, with gardening gloves stuffed into her pocket. Eve suspected she was in her late twenties.
Smiling, she answered, “I hope so. My husband bought a house….” She stopped. “We bought a house and my husband said I can do anything I’d like with the gardens. I want to add a few bushes and flowers that will bring color at different times of the year.”
The young woman extended her hand. “I’m Lauren MacMillan. And I’m sure that I or other members of my family can help you with whatever you want to do. Why don’t you tell me exactly what you have in mind.”
Eve took a piece of paper from her purse. “I’m not an artist, but this will give you an idea of what we have and what I want to do.”
“You have an eye for layout,” Lauren said. “Did you have training in design?”
“I have a degree in art history.”
“You have an eye for color and detail, too. I’ve also noticed you have a beautiful Southern accent. Have you been here long?”
“Just since my marriage about six weeks ago.”
“Congratulations,” Lauren said. Her sparkling brown eyes were sincere.
“I’m still finding my way around,” Eve admitted, “But one of our neighbors recommended your nursery. Mr. Olsen.”
“Oh, yes, we did all of his landscaping. I drew up the plans myself.”
Eve glanced at the drawing. “Besides what I’ve outlined here, I’d like to create a rock garden out back with a fountain in the middle, but I’m not sure where to start.”
“Probably the best thing for me to do would be to take a look at your property. We could set up an appointment for next week if you’d like.”
“That would be great.” Eve thought about her work schedule.
“How about Monday afternoon about three?” Lauren asked. “That’s usually a slow time around here, and I can get away easily.”
“That’s fine. I only work till noon on Monday.”
“Where do you work?”
“At the Sandstone Gallery.”
“Oh, I’ve been in there several times. They have beautiful paintings and sculptures.” Lauren studied Eve’s drawing again, then waved toward the greenhouses and the tables filled with flowers. “Why don’t we take a tour of the nursery, and I’ll show you what you have to choose from. Then when I come out on Monday, you might have an idea of what you want where.”
It was a plan, and Eve felt her life needed some planning. Just as she had in decorating the house, she would put all her effort and love into planning their gardens. Then maybe Hunter would realize they were building a good life together. Maybe he’d let his guard down and let her love him.
Chapter Six
When Hunter came home from a quick trip to his office Saturday morning to pick up some papers he had forgotten, the smell of cinnamon surrounded him. The end of May had turned hot. He’d dressed in shorts this morning, intending to work in the yard when he got back. He really should fly to Los Angeles soon, but he’d put the trip on hold for the time being. Maybe he’d talk to Eve and see how she felt about spending a week in L.A. It was new to him…this discussing his plans with someone.
Over the past few weeks, he’d learned Eve preferred fresh air to air-conditioning, so he wasn’t surprised to find a breeze blowing the sheers away from the windows in the living room.
She’d done a magnificent job of decorating and homemaking. He just wished…
What? That she’d get pregnant quickly?
Maybe that was it. Once she conceived, he’d feel their marriage would be more solid. He’d called her doctor before they’d left Savannah, and the man had assured Hunter that Eve was perfectly healthy and capable of having children. So she hadn’t deceived him to secure her inheritance.
Walking into the kitchen, Hunter found his wife on her hands and knees, wiping up something on the floor. She was so beautiful with her cheeks flushed and loose tendrils of hair around her face that had escaped her ponytail. Dressed in pale pink knit shorts with a spaghetti-strap top, she caused his hormones to go into overdrive.
Soapsuds tumbled out of the bucket onto the floor and he couldn’t help smiling at the picture she made there. He still thought of her as a debutante.
She looked up. “I spilled the pitcher of iced tea. What a mess.”
He crouched down at the bucket. “Did the pitcher break? Should you be watching out for glass?”
“No, it was a plastic one. Just a mess. Tea, ice cubes, lemon.” She sat back on her haunches.
His smile returned when he saw the soapsuds on her arm. “I didn’t know you knew how to wash up a floor.”
She took a handful of soapsuds from the bucket and blew them at him. “There’s a lot of things I know how to do that you don’t know anything about.”
The suds landed on his nose. He scooped a handful from the bucket and blew them ba
ck at her.
This time she retaliated by ducking her hand in the bucket and flicking water at him. “Maybe you should learn how to wash the floor.”
She looked so absolutely, indignantly adorable that he punched his hand into the bucket and splashed some water on her.
Her mouth rounded. “Just because your hand’s bigger…” She took a good wave at the water and splashed enough on him to wet his shirt. Moments later they were both laughing as each got wetter. Eve’s top clung to her breasts, and Hunter could see that she wasn’t wearing a bra.
“I think you forgot to put something on this morning,” he said, his heart pounding.
“I was hot,” she responded breathlessly.
The two of them were on their knees facing each other. “As hot as you are now?” he asked.
“No. I’m much hotter right now.”
The power of desire flashing through his veins was too overwhelming to deny. Reaching out, he traced her breasts with his fingers. Her eyes widened and her lips parted.
He did it again, slowly, with great deliberateness. Her tongue came out and licked her lips, and he wanted to taste them, too. Leaning toward her, he did, teasing her bottom lip with his tongue, then her upper lip, then lifting her shirt until his hands were covering both of her breasts. He heard the soft moan in her throat and played with her nipples until her tongue chased his and then she drew on him.
She was becoming bolder, and he liked it. Grasping handfuls of his shirt, she pulled it out of his shorts. They were unmindful of the mess they’d made with the water and the suds. Hunter didn’t know anything except his need for Eve, the heat of their bodies, the pleasure he was ready to take.
When Eve hiked up his shirt, he tossed it over his head. Then he drew hers up, off and tossed it aside, too. As her hand went to the button on his shorts, he was pulling hers down.
They disrobed in a matter of seconds and Hunter realized something. “We’re going to slip and slide all over this damn floor.”
When she laughed, her laughter soothed something in his soul.
Standing, he pulled her up and lifted her onto the island worktable in the center of the kitchen. Her gray eyes simmered with the desire he felt, and he said thickly, “Open your legs to me.”
As she did, he gripped her buttocks, so firm yet so soft and feminine, and pulled her toward him. Then he entered her with a prolonged slowness, with a sensuality that took their breaths away.
“Oh, Hunter,” Eve murmured.
“Tell me, Eve. Tell me how I make you feel.”
“You make me feel…” She stopped.
He stroked in and out. “Tell me.”
“You make me feel wanted and feminine and like everything in the universe is going to shatter around us.”
When he thrust harder and deeper, she wrapped her legs around him. He kissed her, not interrupting their cadence, taking them both exactly where they wanted to go until the universe did burst and the earth moved and the bells rang….
Hunter shuddered into Eve and a minute later realized the bells weren’t in his head, but in the foyer. It was the door chimes, and they were ringing again. He dropped his head to Eve’s shoulder for a minute. “I don’t know if the timing’s good or bad.”
Eve giggled. “If anyone ever knew what just happened in here—”
“Your disguise as a proper Southern lady would be right out the window.” Hunter separated from her. “I’d better get it before whoever it is comes around back.”
His feet sloshing into the puddles they’d made when they’d splashed each other, he reached for his shorts, pulled them on swiftly and zippered them. Still in his bare feet, trying to clear his head from the passion he’d just shared with his wife, he grabbed a towel from the refrigerator handle, wiped off his feet, then went to answer the door.
To his surprise, he found his father, who looked over the water-spotted shorts and his bare chest and feet.
“Is this a bad time?” John asked.
“Uh, no. We just had a mess in the kitchen and we’re cleaning it up. What can I do for you?”
“If you’re busy with something…”
“No. Come on in. I’ll tell Eve you’re here.” That would send her scurrying to the laundry room for fresh clothes.
“I’d like to see Eve, too, of course, but…I came to talk to you.”
The seriousness in his father’s tone concerned Hunter, and he motioned him to the formal living room away from the family room and the kitchen. After Hunter had spoken to his dad about his health several weeks ago, he’d called Jolene to tell her nothing seemed to be wrong. But now…
John sat in the swan-armed upholstered rocker in front of the window.
Hunter settled in the blue-and-rose-velvet armchair and waited for the older man to say what he had come to say. But it wasn’t anything Hunter expected when John began with, “I need your help on something.”
Hunter waited.
“You know I’m grooming Larry to handle the company next year when I retire.” He watched Hunter carefully.
“Yes, I know that.”
“I’ve been trying to stand back and let him take over slowly, and he’s doing a good job of it. But he wants to merge Morgan’s Office Products with Otis Farley’s chain of stores. Larry says mergers are the wave of the future, and it’s the only way to grow our company dramatically.”
Involved in mergers and acquisitions much of the time, Hunter knew that was partially true. “You don’t think that’s the way to go?”
“A merger is one thing. Otis Farley’s company is another. I’ve heard rumors.”
“What type of rumors?”
“Maybe problems is more the word I want. Distribution problems, sales force problems, maybe even financial problems. I’d like you to check them out.”
Hunter knew Larry wouldn’t want his interference. “Have you expressed your concerns to Larry?”
“I’ve expressed them, all right, but Larry just brushes them off. You know how headstrong he is, and he’s forging ahead too fast. I don’t want to see my life’s work go up in smoke.”
Hunter knew his father had worked hard to make his company successful. “What kind of information do you want?”
John Morgan shook his head, then shrugged. “I don’t know exactly. Maybe I just want reassurance. I want to make sure Otis Farley’s company is solid and we’re not stepping into some kind of mud bog.”
“This isn’t exactly my field.”
“I know, but you hear things and you have lots of contacts.”
Yes, he did. “Is this the real reason you haven’t been sleeping at night?”
John’s face flushed. “Yes, and it’s been causing me plenty of heartburn, too. I didn’t want to involve you in this. I didn’t want Larry to think I was looking over his shoulder.”
“What if he finds out I’m doing this?”
“I’m sure he will eventually. We’ll deal with it then. Your mom and I have worked hard to get to where we are now. When I retire, I’d like to take her on a trip or two. Maybe one of those cruises. I want to show her things she’s never seen. When I asked her to marry me, I promised I’d provide for her and give her a good life.”
“You’ve done that.”
“Maybe so, but I want our last years together to be more comfortable than the rest…less work and more fun. That can’t happen unless I’m sure Larry knows what he’s doing.”
“All right. I’ll see what I can do. How soon do you need to know?”
“Larry’s not planning to close the deal till fall, so we’ve got some time. Thank you, Hunter. This means a lot to me.”
Eve appeared in the archway just then, and Hunter didn’t have to respond.
She welcomed John with a wide smile. “Hi, there. Can you stay for lunch?”
John checked his watch. “I suppose I can. Martha went shopping with Jolene. When they go to a mall, I know they’ll be gone all day.”
“Good, then you can join us. I’m going to mix
up a batch of lemonade, then we can eat out on the patio.”
“No more iced tea left?” Hunter asked wickedly, noticing Eve had changed clothes. He guessed she was also now wearing a bra.
She wrinkled her nose at him. “The next time I make iced tea, I’ll have to make a double batch.”
He bit back a smile, thinking of what they’d shared in the kitchen, liking the idea of having intimate secrets with her. He felt almost happy. It was a new feeling and he didn’t want to examine it too closely.
When Lauren MacMillan arrived on Monday afternoon, Eve was weeding the front flower bed bordering the house. She’d been so tired lately that she thought the fresh air and the sun might do her good. She certainly hadn’t done anything strenuous at work this morning, mostly just taking inventory and helping a few customers.
Yesterday she’d asked Hunter to go along to church with her in the morning and he had. Afterward they’d packed up a picnic lunch and gone canoeing on a nearby lake. Hunter had done all the work. She’d gotten him to talk about some of the trips he’d taken and the sights he’d seen. He’d also told her all about Slade and Emily’s ranch, the Double Blaze, in Montana. Last evening, they’d come home and made love for a good long time. That was when she felt the closest to Hunter.
Thinking about Saturday in their kitchen still made her smile.
Lauren pulled into the driveway and parked the white pickup truck with MacMillan’s Garden Center painted in red on the door. After she climbed out, she saw Eve and waved. Then she crossed the yard with quick, long strides, a notebook in her hand.
“You’re doing the hard part,” Lauren said with a smile.
Eve laughed. “Hunter said a few tons of mulch will help with the weeds.”
Appraising the grounds, Lauren asked, “Do you have any particular place you want me to start?”
“The front yard. Then we’ll go around back and I’ll show you the patio area and where I’d like to put the rock garden.” The sun shone brightly as Eve shaded her eyes against it and looked up at Lauren.
“That sounds good,” the landscape architect said, taking a few steps back to look more carefully at the front of the house. “I like the arborvitae that are already there. You can add one or two of the unusual sculptured evergreens, perhaps those geraniums you were looking at the other day interspersed with Shasta daisies.”
Just the Husband She Chose Page 8
