He told himself that it was ridiculous to imagine Alexandra Thorpe had found something new in his arms. He'd come into the bathroom wanting her with a hunger their hours of lovemaking had not diminished, imagining what it would be like to take her in the shower, with the water streaming over them.
And he would do that. . .but not now. Now, something else seemed far more important.
"Travis?" Alex said, as he swung her into his arms. He silenced her with a kiss.
"Let me show you how beautiful you truly are, Princess," he murmured, and he carried her back to bed, where he kissed her everywhere, savored each sigh and moan. Where he made slow, tender love to her until, at last, she wept with happiness, in his arms.
CHAPTER SIX
HAPPINESS was fleeting.
Alex had known that all her life. But it had never vanished as swiftly as it did now, in the aftermath of Travis's lovemaking.
Her heartbeat slowed. Joy was replaced by despair, and despair by disgust.
She'd just shared endless acts of incredible intimacy with a man she didn't know. What was there to be happy about?
Yes, Travis had made her feel things. His touch had been-it had been everything she'd ever let herself dream a lover's touch might be. Passionate yet tender. Demanding as well as giving. Exciting. Oh, yes, above all else, exciting.
But the man in whose arms she lay wasn't her lover. He was someone she'd bought. There was no getting around that ugly truth.
How? Alex thought, while self-loathing became panic, how could she have done this? She knew she was an anomaly in this age of sexual awareness. She'd gone to her marriage bed a virgin, eager to experience the passion she'd read about. Instead, she'd found sex with her husband was something to be endured. Not painful, not necessarily unpleasant ... it was just that she'd expected ecstasy and experienced nothing.
Sometimes-and she'd always felt the guilt of it-sometimes, even as Carl rose above her, she'd found herself thinking about the next day's chores.
Alex bit back a moan of dismay. And yet, she'd cried out in Travis's arms. Her mind had emptied of everything except awareness of what he was doing, of the feel of his hands and mouth, the hardness of his body, the slow, drugging heat of his kisses.
The kisses of a stranger. Of a man she'd bought.
How? she thought frantically. How could this have happened? Had she gone out of her mind? She was a fastidious woman. She prided herself on her self-control. She never acted impulsively or foolishly about anything-especially men. And yet she'd gone to that auction, bought a stranger and let him-let him...
It was unbelievable. Her friends teased her mercilessly about the way she acted when they tried to fix her up with blind dates.
"For heaven's sake, Alex," they'd say, "it's just a date, not a lifetime commitment."
And she'd smile and say yes, she knew.. .and then she'd ask what the man was like? What were his interests, his hobbies? Who were his friends? Where did he live? How did he earn his living? By the time she finally sat down to dinner with the man, he was as familiar to her as an old acquaintance.
The man lying beside her now, in this bed of tangled sheets that smelled of sex, was no old friend. He was an enigma. She had no idea who his friends were, or what he did for fun. He could be anything from a used car salesman to a doctor. Maybe he really was a cowboy. There was that accent that came and went at will, or so it seemed. And those boots. And that don't-tread-on-me attitude.
The only certainty was that he was handsome. But his looks didn't justify what she'd spent the day letting him do to her.
Who was she trying to fool? She hadn't "let" him do those things. She'd wanted him to do them. She'd done things, too. Done things, felt things...
At least she knew she wasn't a frigid little rich bitch. She was a tramp.
She was someone she didn't recognize. A woman without morals, but that was impossible. She was a decent person. She supported good causes. She didn't lie, cheat or steal; she never even asked her accountant to fudge on her income taxes.
No, she thought, biting back a hysterical laugh, no, she was an honorable, decent person. All she'd done was buy herself a hunk to sleep with. Except, that wasn't accurate. A flush rose in Alex's cheeks. What she'd been doing with Travis hadn't a damned thing to do with sleeping...
"Princess?"
His voice was soft and husky, tinged with that slow, sexy drawl. She didn't want to open her eyes and look at him. If she didn't-if she didn't, maybe he'd disappear. Just get up, get dressed and go away. Then she could pretend this was just a bad dream.
But that wasn't going to happen. He laced his fingers into her hair, turned her face up to his and kissed her. She offered no response. He brushed her mouth with his again, ran his hand down the length of her body, just as if he had the right to do it.
"Princess, are you all right?"
There was no getting around it. She had to open her eyes, look at Travis-at this stranger in her bed. She had to pretend she wasn't ashamed of herself, pretend she was the kind of woman who had sex with men she picked up all the time.
"Alex?"
She took a mental breath and lifted her lashes. Travis was leaning over her, green eyes still dark with what had just happened between them.
"Hey," he said softly, and smiled. "Hello, there, Princess."
"Hello," seemed the wrong thing to say in response. "I, uh, I have to get up," she said, and gave him a forced smile. "Uh-huh. In a minute. Let me look at you, first."
"Travis-"
"You truly are a beautiful woman, darlin'. Haven't I convinced you of that?"
She didn't want the words to mean anything but there was something in the tone of his voice, in the way he was looking at her, that made her resolve slip, if only for a second. Then she thought of how often a man like this would murmur such words to a woman. A hundred times a month, probably, to a hundred different women, and the momentary glow she'd felt faded and became just another reason to dislike him and despise herself all the more.
"Thank you," she said politely.
"Thank you?" He grinned. Before she could stop him, he rolled her beneath him again and framed her face in his hands. "Such formality, Princess."
"Travis, really. I'd like to-"
"Get up. I know." He smoothed her hair back from her flushed face. "I'm glad I opened those drapes, Princess. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to see just how blue those eyes of yours really are." He drew back a little, just enough so he could see her more clearly. "You're really beautiful, Alexandra."
His voice was husky, his eyes dark. She'd seen him look at His this way often enough now to suspect what he was thinking but it wasn't possible. Not after he'd already made
love to her so many times.
He moved. Her breath caught. It was possible. He wanted her again. And she-heaven help her, she wanted him, too. Her brain was shrieking "no" but her body was already softening and warming in anticipation of the moment he'd slip deep inside her.
He kissed her throat as he cupped her breast. His teeth closed gently on her flesh as his fingers stroked across her nipple. She could feel it happening, feel herself drifting away.
"Travis..."
"What?"
He moved again and she couldn't help it, she gave a soft moan and lifted her hands, lay them lightly on his narrow hips.
"Travis," she said again, but the word was barely a sigh.
"Yes, darlin'. I hear you. Tell me what you want, Princess. Just say it."
Alex's eyes flew open. That little self-satisfied smile was curling over his lips again. Her heart hardened. He knew exactly the effect he had on her and he was determined to make sure she knew it, too.
Her body went rigid.
"Get-up," she said.
She knew her voice was icy. He knew it, too. She could see it in the way that smile dropped from his mouth.
"Darlin', what's the matter?"
"Get-up!" she said, and batted her hands against his shoulders.
His eyes narrowed. Her heartbeat stuttered. She thought, once again, how little she knew about this man, how isolated this house was...
He became still. Then he smiled, a quick show of teeth, and rolled away.
"With pleasure, Ms. Thorpe. Far be it from me to keep a lady in bed when she doesn't want to be there."
If he'd wanted to embarrass her, addressing her so formally when she lay naked beside him, he'd succeeded. She wanted to cringe, grab for the sheet and cover herself from head to toe, but she'd sooner have walked through fire than give him that satisfaction. Instead, she swung her legs to the floor, rose to her feet and strolled across the room as if she walked around naked in front of strange men all the time. She picked up her robe from where it lay, shook it out, slipped it on and tied the sash.