The Rancher's Virgin Acquisition(24)

His eyes blistered hers. "Not a chance in hell, sweetheart."

And he walked out the door.



Emma spent the rest of the day baking and sewing. After his indirect reference to his reminder that she needed to obey his dictate of staying in the house, she did. With the recent memory of the snakes in mind, and his delayed promise of riding to soothe her, it took very little self-discipline to do as he asked.

She had something to keep her busy and she didn't feel like a prisoner at the moment.

She finished her chores rather quickly, and decided to take the opportunity of the added privacy his absence brought to take a bath. She heated enough water, secured the bolts on the door just in case, and enjoyed the luxury of a full bath. She washed her hair twice and scrubbed every inch of her body.

She spent a long time combing out her long hair and drying it with a towel as she sat in her nightgown in the big, over-stuffed chair in her bedroom.

She'd already left Luke a plate of food on the table, and now she rested back in her seat, the sound of crickets coming from outside her window where the moonlight filtered through.



Luke had already taken the time to eat the plate of food that Emma had left out for him before he went to find her.

It was late and he didn't call her name in case she was already asleep.

He found her sound asleep in the chair, her hair softly curling around her face, the damp towel draped across her lap, and her white eyelet nightgown a backdrop to her soft beauty that was beginning to be an addiction he couldn't fight against.

He slipped into the room and shut the door quietly behind him, stood with his back to it, and watched her sleep. Her allure was beguiling; the quiet prettiness of her face had crept up on him and seized him before he could muster any defense against it.

If she was any other woman, he knew he'd be tempted to keep her. But she wasn't. He had to remind himself again that she was small and weak and had a disadvantage aside from all that. No, he couldn't keep her. He tried to placate himself with the knowledge that soon, very soon, she would be his lover.

But it didn't do much to assuage the possession running through his veins. He wanted to keep her and he just managed to stop short of cursing his Maker for not letting it be possible.

He couldn't be that selfish.

He'd be thankful for this time they had together, and make the most of it.

She made a restless movement and the moonlight spilling into the room gave him just enough light to see the material of her nightgown stretch taut over her breasts. He could see the outline of her nipple, or maybe he just imagined it in his mind, but his reaction to it was the same. He was tantalized by the sight, and his jeans grew snug as his erection grew and pressed against his fly.

He inhaled sharply and tried to calm the wild beat of his racing heart.

When had he ever wanted a woman as much as he wanted Emma?

The answer came easily to him. He hadn't. He'd wanted sex, he'd wanted an orgasm, but he'd never wanted a certain woman. Always in the past, a warm, willing, female body would do. But he was sorely afraid that he'd have to go for the rest of his miserable life wanting Emma.

The husband she used to have was both a godsend and a curse to him. The man that went before him made it possible for Luke to have Emma's body now, the absence of her virginity meant that he wouldn't have to seduce an innocent when that went against his code of honor. But the dead man was also a curse, a curse because Luke had a vicious, burning jealousy that someone else had touched her. He didn't blame her, for whatever reason, he blamed himself, as if he should have found her in an earlier time, even though he rationally knew that hadn't been possible.

He was torn up by his feelings. Lacerated by emotions that ran the gamut between being relieved she'd come into his life, and cursing the universe for allowing him to hold her and taste her when he couldn't keep her. He'd forever be damned with her memory and the knowledge that she was out there in the world, out there with some other man who had the right to hold her, touch her, support her as his own.

He hissed in a breath at the obscene thought of someone else having the right to sink into her body, feel her close around them, and know what she smelled like, tasted like, sounded like, when she came.

The noise he made must have roused her, because she sat up on the chair and slowly focused her eyes on the door and must have realized he was in the room with her.

She gasped softly. "Luke?"

"Yeah."

"Is everything all right?"

"Yeah."

"What time is it?"

"Half past eleven."

"What--what are you doing in my room?"

"Come to collect."

"Collect?"

"My goodnight kisses, remember?"

"Kisses?" She stressed the plural.

"You think we're gonna stop at just one?" he challenged her.

Emma cleared her throat and tried to shake the sleep from her brain as Luke stood across the room, his big body silently threatening her peace. Twin feelings of trepidation and stimulation were infiltrating her bloodstream and landing in a soft pool of heat between her thighs.

He didn't make a move toward her, he just leaned against the door and silently watched her. She sat up straighter in her chair and waited.

Tension grew in the pit of her belly and the seconds ticked by as he continued to watch her in complete silence.

She swallowed deeply and her heart was raging at her to do something, say something, when he pushed off the door with his booted foot and began prowling toward her.

He came to a stop in front of her chair. "You smell good, Emma. You have a bath?"

She licked her lips. "Yes."

"You able to manage that all by yourself?"

"I'm not totally helpless, Luke."

"I know that. I'm just wondering if you had help hauling the water, that's all."

"Who would have helped me?"

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking. There's over a hundred men working on my ranch. I'm asking if one of them was here, that's all."

"No. Nobody came into the house today. Not even Maria. I managed on my own."

"That wasn't so hard to answer, now was it?"

"No. I'm sorry, I thought you were being sarcastic."

"Not sarcastic. Jealous."

"Jealous?"

"I don't care for the thought of another man being alone with you, Emma."

Pleasure, swift and intense, ran down Emma's spine and curled under her heart. But she didn't have long to enjoy the sensation, because he was leaning over her, encircling her in the cage of his arms as he placed his hands on her chair.

"While you're here, you're mine."

Emma was too shocked to respond and remained quiet.

"You understand what I'm telling you?"

"Yes."

His hand reached out and he ran the tip of his finger across her cheek, down her neck and landed in an unequivocal statement on her right breast.

He spread his hand out and cupped her softness.

Emma's heart jumped under his palm and arousal coiled deep within her entire body. He came down on his haunches in front of her, and pulled her bottom to the edge of the seat. He fisted the hem of her nightgown in his hand and pushed it all the way up to the tops of her thighs and then his hands moved to her knees and he spread her legs wide and he came between them.

He wrapped one brawny arm around her waist as his other hand landed back on the breast he had momentarily abandoned.

He bumped her face with his chin, and when she lifted it, his mouth sank down on hers in an open kiss filled with burning greed.

He squeezed her breast and then began tweaking her nipple between his fingers and thumb as his tongue began to swirl inside her mouth, learning her lips and tongue all over again in an assault of her senses that destroyed her ability to think and left her a willing puppet in his arms.

If what he'd made her feel in the barn the other day had been desire, then this was far past that as she lost all conscious thought process and turned into a being who only felt.

She heard the moan and realized with no small amount of shock that it came from her own throat.

As if he was waiting for some kind of signal, he stood to his feet and swung her up in his arms. The movement jolted his mouth from hers, and he moved his mouth to her ear and caressed her there with one heated word that didn't in any way sound like he meant it. "Goodnight."

He dropped her from his arms beside her bed and let her body slide down his until her bare feet found traction against the cold wooden floor.

He lifted her chin and caressed her with a molten look as his hands slid to her shoulders and cupped her there. "Goodnight." He said for a second time and the word was ripped from him, as if he were in pain even thinking about letting her go.

"Goodnight," her voice was soft, barely a whisper as a sensual light passed between their eyes.

His gaze was almost tender, yet it held a heat and magnetism that enthralled her and she barely noticed when his palms left her shoulders and travelled down to her hands. He picked them up and pulled them up his chest and over his shoulders where he wrapped them around his neck.

She felt another hot shiver of response as she touched the tendons in his neck and felt his tactile strength under her fingers. She watched him silently in longing, dying inside for another one of his deep, intimate kisses.

Her eyes dropped unconsciously to his lips.

"Goodnight," he said again as his eyes followed hers and dropped to her lips.

She had to fight her body from swaying into his, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop the slight tilt of her pelvis toward his. His nostrils flared and his hands sank into her hips. She licked her suddenly dry lips and tried to answer back. "Goodnight."