Bound By Marriage(3)

"Are you telling me Damon never tried anything?"

If he'd had been any other man, she'd have thought the question a  deliberate attempt to rub salt into still-open wounds. But sly  maliciousness wasn't Gabe's style-he attacked head on. "No."

"And you didn't find another lover?" He answered his own query before  she could say anything. "Of course not. You were waiting for Damon to  fall in love with you."

His cruel guess cut far too close to the mark. "We both know that didn't  happen, so I'm rather less experienced than you might be used to." The  understatement of the century. Gabe's women had always had sensuality  oozing from their pores, a silent, dark knowledge in their eyes.                       
       
           



       

"Fine. I'll train you myself."

Stunned, she swiveled in his arms. "That had better have been a joke."

He bent his head until his lips were a hairsbreadth from hers. "I  thought you knew-I don't have a sense of humor." His kiss was nothing  soft, nothing gentle.

Pure male arrogance and resolve, he made her open her mouth for him and when she did, he took her.

No mercy. No holds barred.

As at the airport, Jess froze. But this time, the kiss didn't end in a  hard flash. It was an inferno and she found herself clinging to him  without knowing how she'd gotten there, her body pressed to his, her  mind awash in unadulterated need. When he did release her, it was only  so she could gasp in a breath. Then he claimed her again.

And her thoughts scattered like a million grains of sand under a thundering surf.

Gabe took his time tasting Jess, enjoying the lush softness of her  mouth. There was no doubt in his mind that she was responding to him on a  primal level. It was exactly what he'd set out to achieve. Jess might  love another man but she was going to be screaming her husband's name in  bed.

What he'd never expected was the exquisite pleasure she gave him in  return. That didn't make him happy. Passion had a way of sabotaging the  best laid plans, of pushing things off-kilter. In choosing Jess, he'd  made the deliberate decision to steer clear of desire. But here she was,  wildfire in his arms.

Breaking the kiss, he watched her try to regain control, her breasts  rubbing against his chest as she took several ragged breaths. Her lips  were wet, her eyes closed and her body pliant. It was tempting to  initiate another kiss but he had no intention of ceding power in this  arena. Or any other.

Her eyes opened.

Rubbing his thumb over her lower lip, he dropped his other hand to rest  on the curve of her hip. "We'll have no problems in bed."

The sweetly feminine submissiveness disappeared in a split-second. "Let me go.

You've proved your point."

Releasing her, he stepped back and dropped his eyes to the pebbled  hardness of her nipples. A flush streaked up her neck but she didn't  make any effort to cover them. Stubborn. He'd delight in taming her.  "Get some sleep. It'll be a busy day tomorrow. And Jess, remember, I'm  not a man who lets go of what's mine."

Mrs. Croft, the cook and housekeeper for the main house on Angel  Station, was bustling about in the kitchen by the time Jess came  downstairs at around seven the next morning.

"What's with the sleeping in, Jess my girl?" The older woman bussed her  on the cheek. A friend of Jess's mother, she'd known Jess a long time.

Jess rubbed at her face, skin tingling from the cold water she'd used to  wash it. "Blame it on the time change. Where's Gabe?" She tried and  failed in her attempt not to think about the ruthlessness with which  he'd demonstrated her susceptibility to him last night. She shouldn't  have been surprised. Gabe had a reputation as an iron-willed adversary  in business. Why had she supposed he'd be any different as a husband?

"Gone to check on the stock with Jim." Mrs. C. named the foreman. "The  man doesn't seem to realize it's his wedding day and he should be  nervous."

Jess almost laughed at the idea of Gabe being nervous about anything.  Except today, she had no laughter in her. "Is there anything I can do to  help you?"

Maybe keeping busy would stop the thoughts pinwheeling through her mind.

The older woman waved away the offer. "Just sit and eat some breakfast.  Then you'll be free to pretty yourself up for the wedding."

Jess ate the food that was put in front of her, but had anyone asked her  what she'd eaten, she wouldn't have been able to tell them. Her mind  was too full of other things. The heart of her, the part that had loved  Damon forever, kept insisting that she was making a terrible mistake,  that she should walk away from this wedding. Maybe Damon …

No.

Kayla was pregnant. Jess wouldn't be able to live with herself if  something happened to either mother or child because of her actions. And  the truth was, Damon had had more than two decades to fall in love with  Jess. He'd always chosen someone else.

What about that phone call? The madness in her whispered again. Don't  you remember what he-Stop! Screaming silently at her self, she pushed  aside the empty plate. "I think I'll go for a walk to clear my head."

Mrs. C. nodded. "Gabe's out by the east barn."

Smiling, Jess thanked her, walked outside and headed west. After last  night, her husband-to-be was the last person she wanted to see. Because  in those few explosive moments on the verandah, he'd destroyed  everything she thought she knew about herself. What kind of a woman  loved one man and kissed another with such passionate need?                       
       
           



       

Two of the sheepdogs ran past, then returned to circle her before  deciding to lead the way. The interruption was precisely what she'd  needed. Taking a deep, deep breath of the crisp morning air, she focused  her attention on the untamed splendor of the land around  her-tussock-covered hills dotted with sheep, hardy wildflowers more  beautiful than any cultured garden and over it all, an endless blue sky.

Mind and body calmed. This was right. This land was where she was meant  to be-everything in her knew it. She could never walk away.

No matter what the cost.

The dogs barked and raced off. She followed at a more leisurely pace,  her eye taking in the west barn in the distance. It was the single  structure to have survived the catastrophic fire twenty-five years ago.  Her father had been one of those who'd come to fight the flames that  night, but no one had been able to stop the conflagration. Like a beast  let loose from some infernal region, it had devoured almost  everything … and everyone.

Having reached the old building, she decided to push open the door and  look around, but that was before she saw who was inside. "Mrs. C. said  you were in the other barn."

Gabe slammed one hay bale on top of another, sending dust sparkling into  the invading sunlight. "So eager to see me?" Pulling off his work  gloves, he thrust them into the back pocket of his jeans.

She refused to let him see how much he'd rattled her. "What are you doing here?"

And why did her eyes keep going to the sweat-slick muscles of his arms, revealed by the short sleeves of his T-shirt?

"We needed to create some space in here and everyone else was busy."

"Oh." She scuffed the floor with her shoe. "Can I ask you something?"

His answer was a grunt as he shrugged into the sheepskin jacket he'd  apparently thrown off earlier. Taking that as a yes, she carried on.  "After the wedding sometime, maybe tomorrow or the day after … would you  mind if we visited my parents?" They were buried next to each other in  the Randall family cemetery, only about a sixty-minute drive away.  Although Angel was a huge spread, the family quarters had been built  relatively close to those of the adjoining station.

"Of course I don't mind." His face was all harsh masculine lines when he  glanced at her, but she thought she heard a buried thread of unexpected  gentleness.

His understanding probably wouldn't last through her next request but  she was going to start this marriage as she meant to go on-she would not  let Gabriel Dumont crush either her mind or her spirit. "I want to  visit your family, too."

Silence.

"I don't have any memories of them, but I know Michael was four,  Angelica even younger." No response. She pushed on. "They were your  family. We should remember them."

"Fine." It was a flat sound but at least he'd agreed. "You ready for the wedding?" He nodded at the door.

She tugged it open, her palm sweaty in spite of the low temperature. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Stepping out, they began to walk toward the main house.

"We're not going to have time for a honeymoon."

"I understand. That's okay." It was no lie. The idea of being with Gabe 24/7 in