The Rancher's Virgin Acquisition(9)

The savory roast sat in the middle and her squash casserole sat beside it but Maria was nowhere to be found.

She didn't ask any questions as he stood beside her plate and served a large portion onto her plate.

The food he was giving her was way too much, and Emma lifted her eyes to his. She didn't want him to think she was arguing about every little thing, but she had been taught her whole life not to waste food.

As her eyes met his, her voice was soft, "Luke."

His eyes tangled with hers. "Too much?"

"Yes."

He put about half back in the serving dish and served his own plate and sat.

Emma waited until he picked up his fork and began digging in. She took a few careful bites and was pleased that her casserole as well as Maria's roast had turned out so delicious.

Luke studied her as they ate. His housekeeper's shape was quite normal for a grandmother of her age. But her form was much larger than Emma's, and the dress swallowed the girl completely. She ate with one hand while she held the dress at her throat with the other.

"The dress is too big," he stated the obvious in a rough voice. "Your clothes should be here by tomorrow."

Her eyes lifted from her plate. "Thank you."

His gaze narrowed on hers and she knew her face turned a bright, fiery color as she dropped her eyes from his intense, heated look.

"How long ago did your husband die?" His voice was rough as he asked her the question.

She peeked through her lashes and saw he was studying her with a keenly observant look.

She didn't want to tell more lies but she was embroiled so deeply now she didn't know how to get out of it. "A while now."

"You don't like talking about it?" His eyes were remote, dark and unfathomable.

"It's not that, it's just that--"

"Was he mean to you?" Storm clouds had gathered on his face.

Her eyes flew to his. "In what way?"

"Was he rough on you? Take his pleasure and leave you wanting?"

"W-wanting?" she asked on a whisper.

"You don't know what I'm talking about?" He looked incredulous. "You don't know what wanting means?"

"How can you ask me these questions? We don't even know each other." Emma was not at all comfortable with the conversation. She hadn't been comfortable since she'd met him, but this conversation was making it worse.

"We're not having supper in some fancy hotel back east, honey. It's just you and me and we're alone in my house in the middle of my kingdom." His voice was sharp and he stressed the word alone.

"Your kingdom?" She asked with some confusion.

"You see any other ruler around here?"

"No," she answered simply.

"Maybe you haven't figured it out yet, but I make all the rules around here. I'm the boss, the people here work for me. My word is law.

"I don't work for you."

"No, you don't. But you're a guest on my ranch and while you're here, I'd think you'd want to get along with me." The softly spoken threat hit Emma exactly where he aimed it.

"I'm not trying to be disagreeable," she said quietly.

"Then understand we're having a conversation, getting to know each other a little. We don't have the same kind of formality out here that you're used to. I'm curious about you, that's all. You seem kind of innocent like, I believe I've mentioned that before. Seems to me that all that innocence would have been wiped away, what with you being a married woman and all. But here you are not even aware of what wanting feels like."

"You shouldn't be saying such things." Emma tried for the most pleasant tone she could muster in her attempt at not being disagreeable.

"Just you and me, Emma-girl, I already said that. My house, my supper table. I'll pretty much talk to you anyway I see fit."

Emma was silent as she tried to hold his eyes with hers and failed. She lost her appetite completely and looked down at her hands, folded in her lap.

A loud, grating sound broke the silence as he pushed his chair back and it slid across the wooden floor. Emma didn't look up as he came to stand by her chair.

"You finished?"

She nodded her head.

"You know what comes next."

His words sounded threatening and her eyes flew to his as she lost all color.

He shook his head at the look on her face. "I'm going to carry you to your bedroom."

"I can walk, you don't have to carry me." Her voice was shaky in her confusion.

"Don't have to, maybe I want to." His voice was entirely too enticing and his expression had a sense of purpose.

His hand reached down and lifted hers and Emma found herself standing too close to his large, male body. The boots on his feet added an extra couple of inches to his already soaring height.

Her eyes were level with his chest.

His other hand reached up and his rough, calloused finger slowly slid across her shoulder and across the top swell of her breast as he lifted the collar of the dress and pulled it back up to cover her.

Emma gasped at the sensation. She was rendered completely helpless and could barely stay up on her own two feet.

She heard the rattling sound of his breath coming quickly in and out of his lungs and her eyes lifted to his. That rough finger moved under her chin and lifted. Fire smoldered in his eyes.

"You're pretty." His voice was gravelly, the words a harsh, loud whisper.

Pleasure filled her from the complement. It was the first one she could remember receiving that had anything to do with her looks. The gravelly sound of his voice sent shivers down her spine and she couldn't find her voice to thank him.

He continued in a low, cajoling voice, "Did your husband think you were pretty? Did he tell you when you were naked in his arms?"

Emma swayed at his words as total shock infiltrated her system and her hand fell against his stomach, searching for balance. Steel in the form of muscle greeted her fingers as she unconsciously spread them until she was touching as much of him as she could possibly reach with one hand. Intense heat spread through her and she felt the oddest tingling between her thighs. It was pleasant and kind of bothersome, all at once.

His eyes were dark chocolate brown as they watched her too closely. She felt her lids slide down over her eyes as the feelings surged within her.

The finger left her chin and trailed back down to land on her shoulder again where it slowly pulled her dress down until it bared her white flesh to his eyes. The fabric dropped low on her chest and rubbed against her breast on the downward slide. Emma gasped as she felt her nipple pebble and stand up against the thin white material of her chemise and single petticoat.

She stood in frozen fascination as his breath hissed in and he looked at her bare shoulder and almost naked breast.

"If I had you naked in my arms, if you belonged to me, I'd tell you how pretty you are all the time. How sweet your body smells, how soft you feel, how much I want you."

She felt his head turn as if he were breathing in her scent.

A tear slid from her eye as she listened to the enchanting words.

He wiped it away with a swipe of a finger. "Why the tears?"

She shook her head slowly when she couldn't form an answer. Nobody had ever said such sweet things to her; nobody had ever wanted to hold her.

It was an amazing, dangerous feeling.

Luke felt the effect of her going to his head like a fine wine on an empty stomach. She was small and delicately pretty, her skin was porcelain and she probably belonged anywhere but on his ranch out in the middle of Colorado. She needed to be in a town somewhere, with people who would take good care of her.

With a flash of insight, he wasn't sure he wanted to go through a door he wasn't sure he should open. Problem was, in his gut, he knew it was already too late.

Steeling himself against her warmth, he bent and gently lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom she had used the night before. He pushed his way over to the bed, and carefully deposited her there. He stepped back and saw her scramble to cover herself.

Emma landed on her bottom in a tangle of arms and legs and quickly moved to cover that one bare, silken shoulder from him. Suddenly, being in the bedroom seemed more dangerous than it had the night before. She watched him like a mouse might watch a prowling cat.

He gave her a piercing look and moved away toward the door. He stood on the threshold for a moment before speaking. "That's not going to help, you know. Trying to cover up from me. I've already seen it, Emma." His eyes held hers for the count of three heartbeats. "I already want it."

He turned away, shut the door with a sharp click and left her alone.

Emma let out the air she'd been holding in her lungs with one big whoosh and fell onto her back and put her hands over her face. What had she gotten herself into? What in the world was she supposed to do now?

Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God.

It was all she could get out as she thought about the tall, dark rancher with the face of a fallen angel and the body of a sinner. The man who stated so boldly that he wanted her. What in the world was she going to do?

Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God.





Chapter Four


The next day, Luke dismounted near the corral and handed the reins of the semi-wild pony to Jesse who stood waiting for them.

His spurs clicked in a muted cadence against the solid dirt of the earth as he strode toward the courtyard and then to the house.

He'd seen the sheriff on the northern edge of his property riding toward his house half an hour before, but Luke had been on the south ridge and this was the fastest he could make it back.