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Terms of a Texas Marriage(10)

By:Lauren Canan


“I can’t...I can’t do this.” Her fingers gripped his. “I know you said...I know I agreed that...but I...please...don’t—”

“Shh.” A frown drew his dark brows together. He had to see the frantic, almost terrified expression that must be on her face, mirroring the fear churning inside. “It’s all right, Shea. I’m not going to hurt you,” he murmured as his thumbs caressed the side of her face. “Just kiss me. That’s all you have to do.”

Shea scarcely had time to nod her agreement before his mouth once again claimed hers. This time he moved slowly, sensuously, with an easy gentleness that immediately began to tear down the walls of her resistance. His tongue licked and teased her lips, moistening them, as if readying her for a more intense joining.

With consummate skill, he encouraged her lips to open. His tongue slid deep into the cavern of her mouth, sending her heart plummeting all the way to her knees. The kiss was frankly intimate, shamefully enticing and custom designed to evoke a matching response from her. He tasted of champagne and his own uniquely delicious male flavor. It mingled with the bittersweet essence of his cologne, which silently affirmed the raw masculinity of the man who wore it.

His hands rubbed her back, working down her spine, slowly massaging away the last remnants of her inner turmoil. Sensual warmth began to spread though her, intensifying the heat pooling between her legs while a thread of confusion wove its way into her mind.

What am I doing? But the question was too fleeting to receive an answer.

Slowly but steadily, her fear began to change form, turning instead into a fundamental need that refused to be ignored. A fragment of her mind insisted this wasn’t right. Her body screamed that it was.

Alec pushed the creamy fabric of the gown from her shoulders. It fell to the floor with a quiet rustle. She should have been shocked, but the realization weighed no heavier than the soft evening breeze entering the room through the open windows. For a few moments in time, she forgot the reality of her situation, of her pledged hatred of this man. Of their own accord, her arms slid up over his muscled chest to rest on his broad, powerful shoulders, letting her fingers play in the thick, silky texture of his hair. Alec’s hands moved lower in their rotation until, reaching the fullness of her hips, he pulled her firmly up and against him. The hard, male ridge of his arousal pressed against the sensitive juncture between her legs and a jolt of pure sexual hunger shot through her. Her body jerked forward, uncontrollably, bringing a deep growl from Alec.

He began to alternately kiss and nibble the delicate contours of her neck and shoulder and, eyes closed, she tilted her head to allow him greater access. His hands moved to her breasts, kneading the firmness, making them swell under his touch. Then his mouth returned to hers in a deep, drugging kiss that brought a small whimper, an automatic response conveying the end of her struggle against the inevitable.





Five

Experience told Alec that sound signified her acceptance of what was to come. He knew, at this moment in time she was his, completely and totally. Raising his head, he looked at Shea’s face, radiant in the moonlight. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted as if waiting for his mouth to return. As if beckoning his lips to return.

Heat coursed through his body, centering in his loins, making him throb against the restricting barrier of his slacks. A slight tremor reminded him he was about to cross the line. This was not the plan. Seducing her wouldn’t accomplish anything except add to the problems he already faced and enormously complicate the entire situation.

He gritted his teeth, closed his eyes and fought for restraint. But even when he couldn’t see, her fragrance assailed him, called to him and tempted him almost beyond his control. He knew her body craved fulfillment and her need only served to bring him closer to that moment of ultimate possession, a moment that should never happen. He ached with wanting. His libido screamed, Take her!

Suddenly, it was too much.

Damn the land. Damn that contract. Damn this situation. With a groan of defeat, he scooped her into his arms, laid her gently on the bed and followed her down, his mouth again finding hers.

Then, almost unnoticeable at first, a persistent sound of drumming broke into the moment. The sound, hesitant but determined, brought with it a cold reality that refused to leave.

Frowning, Alec raised his head, reluctantly separating his lips from hers. He inhaled deeply, fighting to regain cognizant thought. It sounded as if someone was knocking on a door. Silence. Then it started again. Another hard series of raps caused him to look questioningly at Shea while he fought to latch onto some thread of reality.

“Are you expecting anyone?” His voice sounded rough, even to his own ears.

She mutely looked into his face. Alec drew a deep breath and blew it out, pausing to regain what little mind he had left. Finally, he rolled off the bed and stood up. Taking another deep breath, he walked out into the hallway and down the stairs as the persistent knocking continued. He knew a sudden surge of fury as he reached the kitchen door.

Hank Minton, the ranch foreman, stood on the doorstep. He had his hat in his hands, and a worried look pinched the strained features of his face. He wouldn’t look Alec in the eye. Instead he watched the bugs fluttering around the porch light, studied the doorbell and finally appeared to give significant attention to his old, worn boots.

“Hank.” Suspicion set off a flashing red light in Alec’s still-muddled brain.

“I’m sorry to bother you all with this,” the old cowboy said. “Real sorry. Specially knowing it’s your weddin’ night and all. But we got a horse down and I think Shea’s gonna need to take a look at him.”

“I see,” Alec replied. And he did.

There was no question in his mind that Shea had solicited Hank’s help for this perfectly timed interruption. Alec was torn between a desire to toss the old man off the step or hug his neck and thank him for doing what Alec apparently lacked the strength to do himself.

Hank had just provided a plausible excuse for Alec to stop, which was exactly what he should have done in the first place. Annoyance surged through him for his weakness and for letting his desire overcome his common sense.

He definitely should be grateful to Hank. Why, then, did he have the urge to break the old man’s neck?

“Come in. I’ll get her.”

The old cowboy nodded and stepped just inside the kitchen, glancing at the sink, the overhead light, the chairs and finally back to his boots.



Shea sat on the edge of the bed in the darkened room as reality came slamming back. Willing her pulse to steady, she took a deep breath in a desperate attempt to clear her head. Her hand trembled as she ran her fingers through her hair. It had been close. Too close. His touch left the lower parts of her body swollen, unfulfilled and badly in need of something more.

He hadn’t made love to her. Technically. Hadn’t penetrated her body with his. She should be monumentally happy. Why, then, did she feel ridiculously disappointed?

She stood and felt her way to the closet, not bothering to turn on a light. Her legs were strangely weak. She quickly shucked her hosiery, pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt and then descended the stairs. She couldn’t help but grimace as the full impact of the situation settled over her.

She’d almost had sex with Alec Morreston.

Even worse, he hadn’t forced her. He hadn’t held her down or tied her to the bedposts. He’d kissed her. That was all. Apparently, that had been enough. She knew it. And worse, so did he. Alec was here to take away her ranch, her home, everything she held dear. She would do well to remember that. He was, inarguably, a very potent package with obvious experience to back that up. She had to be strong.

Alec pivoted from the open doorway as she entered the kitchen. He didn’t appear surprised to see her there. “It seems your presence is needed in the barn.” His tone clearly said he was suspicious of Hank’s timing.

“It’s Crusty, Shea.” Hank’s voice carried to her from the doorway. “He’s down. Me and Jason, we’ve been working with him almost an hour, but we can’t keep him on his feet. I think it’s colic.” The old cowboy threaded the brim of his hat through his hands in a nervous gesture as he stared at his boots. “I’m real sorry about this. Real sorry.”

“That’s okay, Hank.” Shea glanced at Alec. “I’m sure Mr. Morreston understands.” The look Alec gave her clearly said he understood far more than just the claimed need for Shea’s presence in the barn. “Give me a second to put on some shoes. Is he in the main barn?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll go on back out there.” He put his hat firmly on his head and turned toward the door. “I’m real sorry ’bout this. Real sorry.” Hank closed the door behind him.

Shea ran up the stairs and into the bedroom, wasting no time as she pulled on socks and boots. Just as she stood and reached for her jacket, Alec walked into the room.

“Need any help?”

“No. Thanks anyway.”

As she walked past him, he gently touched her shoulder, stopping her in midstride.

“Consider this...a wedding gift. We wouldn’t want all of Hank’s efforts to be for nothing. But, take fair warning, next time there will be no interruptions. You can accept that or you can prepare to leave here.” There was a gleam of promise in his eyes.