Bound By Marriage(4)

some romantic resort tied her stomach up into a thousand knots. She was  about to say something else when her attention was caught by a dark blue  sedan pulling up to the house. It was followed by an almost identical  vehicle in deep green. "Did you invite some other people?"

"That's David Reese, my lawyer." He picked up the pace. "The other car will be Phil Snell, your lawyer."

"Mine?" She nearly had to jog to keep up with him.

"If you sign the pre-nup without independent legal advice, you could challenge it down the road."

"Oh."

They didn't speak the rest of the way. Both lawyers were nice enough at  first glance and when Phil took her aside for a private chat, Jess found  him to be a very sharp operator. But of course he would be-Gabriel  wanted this airtight.

"If you and Mr. Dumont divorce, you'll have no claim on the land," Phil  summarized. "But you'll get a substantial monetary settlement dependent  on the duration of the marriage. It's an extremely good deal. Your  fiancé is a generous man."

This had never been about money. It was about her heritage, about promises, about loyalty. "Where do I sign?"

Afterward, she walked up to her bedroom, something inexplicably heavy  and painful inside of her. It seemed wrong that her wedding day should  start like this, with a discussion of money and assets. But what else  had she expected? Angel Station was Gabe's heartbeat-as his future wife,  she fell somewhere far, far lower on his list of priorities.                       
       
           



       

"Nothing you didn't already know," she whispered to herself, running her  hand down the ivory satin of her wedding dress. So why was she suddenly  so sure she was about to make the worst mistake of her life?

"I miss you, Jessie. I should've never let you go. Come back to me … "

Trembling, she picked up the phone, barely aware of what she was doing  and began to punch in a number from memory. The first six digits were  easy but a single tear streaked down her face as her finger hovered over  the last one. No. Shaking her head, she hung up before she threw away  both her father's memory and her own self-respect in an effort to chase  an impossible dream.

A few short hours later, her hand squeezed the delicate stems of her  bouquet with crushing force. Having Gabe by her side should have  comforted her but it only increased her gut-churning tension.

He was a man who'd never bend, never gentle to tenderness. Certainly not  for his convenient bride. Instead, as his kisses had shown, he'd  demand. And he'd demand far more than she'd ever expected to have to  give.

"Do you, Jessica Bailey Randall, take this man to be your lawful wedded husband?"

And even then, something inside of her was waiting for Damon's familiar  voice to call the wedding to a halt. If he had, she might have given up  everything-her principles, her promises, her loyalties. But Damon didn't  come, as he hadn't come yesterday, though everyone in Kowhai had to  know she was back.

She set her jaw. "I do." Her eyes were locked with Gabe's as she spoke  and she was startled by the open hunger that stirred in their depths,  though she shouldn't have been. Gabriel Dumont was a man who held onto  what he owned. Of course he'd be possessive with his bride, no matter  that she'd been chosen for reasons other than passion.

As far as Gabe was concerned, she was now his.

She felt herself jerk at a loud cheer and realized she'd missed the rest of the ceremony.

"Jess?"

Blinking away her confusion, she looked up. "What?"

There was something very male in his eyes as he brushed aside a curl  that had escaped her upswept hairdo. "They want a kiss. And so do I."

"Oh." She could feel a blush creeping over her cheeks as she stood on tiptoe, one hand braced against his shoulder.

When Gabe slid his palm across her bare nape, the roughness of his skin  was an erotic caress she wasn't ready for. She tried to stifle her gasp,  but he'd heard. Smiling with masculine approval, he pressed her close  using his other hand on her lower back. And then he kissed her.

Possession. Absolute, undeniable possession.

That was what it felt like, a branding even more dangerous than the  claim of his kiss the night before. Yet once again, she couldn't keep  her body from molding to his, her arms from going around his waist,  reason and sense obliterated under an avalanche of piercing sensation.

An unexpected wolf-whistle splintered the moment, jolting her into pulling away.

But she only got loose because Gabe decided to set her free. In the  second before he turned to face the others, she saw something both very  satisfied and very impatient in his eyes.

Gabriel was ready to seal their deal.

In the most physical way.





Chapter 3





Four hours, endless dances with the station hands and two flutes of  champagne later, Jess was having trouble deciding what to wear.  Stripping down to the corset-like lace teddy, which was all she'd been  able to find to support her under the smooth lines of the dress, was out  of the question. So was the slinky nightgown gifted to her by a beaming  Mrs. C.

But if she wore her favorite old T-shirt, Gabe might think she was being  deliberately provocative, defying both him and the explicitly stated  rules of their agreement. She had no doubts that he was ruthless enough  to call off the whole cold-blooded affair if she didn't hold up her end  of the bargain.

Which left her standing in front of the wardrobe, considering her  options for the hundredth time. As a result, she was in no way prepared  to hear the connecting door between her room and the master bedroom  open.

Her heartbeat a jackhammer against her ribs, she swiveled to face him. "I thought you were downstairs."

Having already undone and rolled up the cuffs to bare sun-browned  forearms, Gabe now undid the top two buttons of his white dress shirt.  "I figured my business with Jim could wait."

"Oh." She lifted a hand to her hair then dropped it again, not sure what  to do with herself-knowledge was one thing, experience quite another.  "I'm not ready."

His smile was slow, sensual and very pleased. "I'll take care of that."                       
       
           



       

She blushed despite having coached herself to be calm and sensible about  the whole thing. What she hadn't factored in was the sheer impact of  Gabriel Dumont.

And tonight, he was concentrating solely on her.

Her breath grew jagged and she found it difficult to focus-her vision  had constricted until the only thing she could see was her new husband.  Reaching her, he put his hands on her waist, that smile segueing into an  expression that was darker, more sexual. Her body responded to the  change with a melting warmth that shocked her into an instant of  clarity.

She raised her own hands and put them against his chest with some vague  idea of holding him off. She realized her mistake immediately-the flimsy  barrier would do nothing to keep him at bay, not when her body was all  too willing. And as the heat of him scorched her through the fine cotton  of his shirt, she found herself craving more rather than less.

Leaving one hand on her waist, he began to pull out the pins in her hair  with the other. "I like your curls, Jess." Stark masculine approval.

"It's become a lot more auburn since I was young." She didn't know why  she'd made that inane comment. As if he cared that she'd been a real  carrot-top until fate had taken pity on her. Even after having lost  weight, she considered her hair her one glory … and Gabriel liked it. That  shouldn't have mattered, but it did.

"Hmm." He continued to unravel the piled mass, dropping the pins to the floor.

"I don't want you to cut it." She made a non-committal noise and he  smiled, a gleam in his eye. "You wouldn't hack it off just to spite me,  would you?"

The childish thought had, in fact, passed through her head a second  before, but she wasn't going to admit that. Especially when she didn't  understand it herself-it simply seemed to be wrong to enjoy any aspect  of this marriage that had been meant to be the coldest of transactions.  "Are the pins all out?"

He thrust both hands through the waves. "Looks like it." Prosaic words  but his fingers were playing along the back of her nape, teasing the  already sensitive spot.

She wanted to sigh and beg for more.

What was she thinking? Panic at her complete inability to remain strong  against this man shot through her bloodstream, giving her courage a  frantic boost.

"Gabe, you don't have to go slow. Let's get this over with." It was a  willful attempt to provoke him. An angry Gabriel would be far easier to  resist than this temptingly seductive male with his ability to ignite  things in her that should have been dead to him.