Home>>read More than a Mistress free online

More than a Mistress(25)

By:Sandra Marton




Travis awakened slowly, blinked his eyes against the sunshine and  inhaled the sweet fragrance of the incredible woman who'd spent the  night in his arms.

A smile spread across his mouth as he sent up a quick thank-you to  whatever gods might be in the vicinity for letting him wake up and find  that the night-the long, wonderful night-had not been a dream.

Carefully, moving so as not to disturb her, he rose on his elbow and  gazed down at Alex's beautiful profile. She lay with her head pillowed  on his arm and her backside snugged into the cradle of his hips.

Very snug, he thought, as the warmth of that curving bottom sent an early-morning wake-up call zinging through his blood.

But he wouldn't wake her. She needed her rest, after the night they'd  spent. Besides, he wanted to watch her. Just watch her, as she slept.

Her hair streamed over her shoulder, a cascade of golden silk. Her  lashes lay thickly on her cheeks. Her lips were slightly parted. One  hand was tucked beneath her pillow; the other lay on top of it. It was a  lovely hand, he thought, with long fingers and blunt-trimmed,  unvarnished nails. Last night, he'd sucked those fingers into his mouth,  one by one. Such a simple thing, but there'd been nothing simple in the  way his body had tightened as he'd watched Alex's pupils grow black  with each stroke of his tongue.

Hell.

Travis stifled a groan and drew back enough to put a discreet inch  between Alex and himself. He'd made love to her endless times through  the night but he wanted her again, right now, with a hunger so intense  that he might as well have spent the past hours in a monastery.

He wouldn't touch her, though. Not yet. She was so soundly asleep.

But he could look.
                       
       
           



       
Slowly, carefully, inch by tantalizing inch, he drew down the blanket that covered them.

How beautiful his Princess was.

The soft curve of her shoulder. The roundness of her arm. The fullness of her breasts and the curve of her hip...

The sweet, honeyed taste of her, against his seeking mouth.

His seeking mouth.

Travis rolled closer and kissed her throat. He kissed her shoulder,  nuzzled her underarm. He stroked his hand gently along her until she  sighed, rolled onto her back...

And awakened.

He watched her, knew the exact second she remembered where she was and  what had happened. Would she regret it? Would she turn to ice, as she  had the last time she'd awakened in his arms?

He waited, poised above her, for the first time in his life anticipating, and dreading, a woman's rejection.

If she tried to toss him out this time, he'd go without a word. Hell,  no. He wouldn't do that. If she tried to toss him out, he'd pin her to  the bed, kiss her until she admitted the truth, that she wanted him now,  that she'd wanted him then...

A radiant smile curved Alex's lips.

"Good morning," she said, and held up her arms. Travis went into them like a man returning home.



They drove back to the vineyard, this time walking through the endless rows of grapes with their arms around each other.

"I love it here," Alex said softly.

Travis looked down at the bright head nestled against his shoulder and smiled. "Then why are you selling it?"

She sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "Peregrine loses money, year after year."

"Well, of course it does."

Alex laughed, drew away from Travis's encircling arm and plucked a leaf from a vine.

"I know this may astound you, Mr. Baron, but a property is supposed to make money."

"This isn't a property, Ms. Thorpe. It's a philosophy."

"A philosophy," Alex deadpanned, stepping out in front of him. "Well,  that explains it. I mean, all this time, my lawyers and accountants have  been thinking it's a winery."

Travis grinned, grabbed her by the waist and spun her around.

"Growing grapes, making wine-it's a mystical experience, Princess."

"Uh-huh."

"Go on, scoff. I'm telling you the truth."

"So, in other words, if I light some incense, sacrifice a couple of  chickens, maybe dance around a tree, naked, on a moonlit night..."

"I like the dancing naked part." Travis put his hand under her chin,  tilted her mouth to his and kissed her tenderly. "But no, I didn't mean  that kind of mystical experience. See, you have to love the whole  wine-making gestalt."

"The gestalt," Alex said solemnly. "I don't know... is that anything  like goulash? Because I have to tell you, Travis, I really don't like-"

She squealed as he dragged her into his arms and kissed her.

"Wine-making," he growled, "is best done by those who are willing to  break their backs in the fields and empty their bank accounts just so  they can someday point to a bottle of twenty-dollar vino and proudly  say, `There it is-and it only cost me fifty bucks to produce."' He  smiled. "In other words, you have to be nuts to go into this business."

Alex smiled into Travis's eyes, rose toward him and placed her hands on either side of his face.

"Nuts, like you?"

He caught her hand, brought it to his lips and kissed the palm.

"I've thought about it," he admitted.

"But?"

"But, I have a law practice, and a life four hundred miles south of wine  country. Plus, establishing a winery with a vintage good enough to make  it profitable takes years." He linked his fingers through hers and they  started walking. "Like the grapes, you have to settle in, put down  roots, commit yourself to making it all work..."

"Sounds a lot like marriage," Alex said lightly.

A muscle knotted in Travis's jaw. "Yeah. Yeah, I suppose it does." His  hand tightened on hers. "And I've already gone that route, Princess.  Settling down, marriage... It didn't work. Heck, it doesn't seem to work  very well for any of the Baron clan."

"I'm not sure it works for anybody." Alex raised her eyes to his. "I'm  not looking for marriage," she said bluntly, "if that's what you're  asking. My mother was unhappy with my father, right up until the day she  died. And my marriage ... well, you already know about that." She took a  deep breath. "I was an obedient daughter, and belonged to my father.  Then I was a dutiful wife, and belonged to my husband. Now, I don't want  to belong to anybody but myself."

Travis nodded, reached out and tucked a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear.

"That sounds perfect, Princess. And I'm glad we got it all out of the way, right upfront."                       
       
           



       

They smiled at each other and then Travis cleared his throat. "So," he  said briskly, "did I happen to mention I dew my own plane here, from  L.A.?"

"No," Alex said, just as briskly, "no, you didn't. You mean, that Porsche isn't yours?"

He grinned. "You'd be amazed how hospitable a dealer can be when he  knows a guy's a sucker for every new Porsche that comes blowing into  town. What do you say, Princess? Will you trust yourself to me for the  flight home?"

She smiled. "Absolutely."

Travis smiled, too. How lucky could a man get? He'd found a beautiful,  wonderful woman, one who pleased him more than any other he'd ever  known. And she'd made it clear that she didn't want to smell orange  blossoms, or hear wedding bells...

"Come here," he said gruffly.

He gathered her into his arms and kissed her ...and tried not to let it  trouble him that she'd basically just told him she was more willing to  trust him with her life than with her heart.





CHAPTER TEN




TRAVIS had been flying his own plane since he was a kid.

So had all the Barons. Espada sprawled over so many thousands of acres  that there were times it made more sense to cross it by plane than by  horse or Jeep.

He loved to fly, loved the freedom he found in the air. But he'd never  enjoyed it as much as he did on the trip back to Los Angeles.

And it was all because of Alex.

He could tell that she was a little nervous, when she first climbed into the Comanche.

"It's smaller than I'd expected," she said, flashing him a quick smile as she secured her seat belt.

Travis looked around as if he'd never seen his plane before. Compared to  the Ultra-Light he and the rest of the Los Lobos gang had built the  summer he was fifteen, the four-passenger Comanche was downright  enormous. On the other hand, he figured it might seem a bit cramped if a  person had only flown in the first-class compartment of a jumbo jet.

"It's not too late to change your mind, Princess," he said.

Alex shook her head. "Oh, no!" She looked at him, and he marveled at the  rosy flush of pleasure in her cheeks. "I want to try everything,  Travis, all the things people said were inappropriate." She laughed.  "Even the things I said were inappropriate."