The Texas Tycoon's Baby(22)

Goose bumps paraded over her arms, and he wasn’t sure if they were from the cooling night or from this conversation that was fast swerving out of control.

“Damn it, you’re probably freezing out here,” he said, seizing the chance to save himself with another change of topic.

“I’m fine.”

As he started down the path to his cabin again, she reached out, gripping his arm.

“I’m fine, Chet.”

Did she mean more than just that though? Was she telling him that, if he stepped out of this self-imposed shell, if he were to seize the day and take up where their one beautiful night together had left off, she could handle it? That if he were to scoop her into his arms and sweep her the rest of the short way down this path and into his cabin, she might even welcome it?

Trouble was, he wasn’t sure what would come after all that.

Or if he could handle it.



It was times like these, when Chet was being so darned wooden in the head, that Mina thought that she might have to start looking for a new job.

If she did, she might never have to let him know about their child. She could go off to a place where no one knew her, where they wouldn’t care about who the father of her baby was, then start anew. That way, Chet could concentrate on his decimated life and not worry about anything else.

But, far below the surface, questions jabbed at Mina. Was there a chance that a child could mend Chet’s fractured soul?

Couldn’t she do that for him, too?

Believing in the possibility with every fiber of her being, she took the biggest risk ever.

Heart ramming against her chest, she lifted up to her tiptoes, pushing back Chet’s cowboy hat, closing her eyes, tentatively touching her lips to his.

Paradise. As sensual as the sound of water falling. As perfect as any haven she could imagine.

It was as if something broke open in him, and he slipped his arms around her, holding her close as heaven swirled through her, as they sipped at each other, warm and lingering.

Chet.

Their second kiss, but this one was so much more wonderful than the first one, when he’d needed more than just her.

She breathed, pulled back a little, whispering against him. “You bet I’ll go to that wedding with you.”

I’ll go anywhere, if you’d just ask.

But he had to be the one to bring up that he wanted more. He had to be obvious about wanting her, showing her without any outside influence that he had come to terms with his life and that there was room enough for her, plus one.

She’d obviously hit a button in him, and he guided them off the path, toward a large pine that spread its branches and blocked out the sky.

Privacy, she thought. He didn’t want anyone to see.

Gently, he leaned her against the pine, cupping the back of her head with a hand, tilting her face up to him just before he covered her mouth with his again.

And, just like that, she was in another place. A glass ball where nothing else mattered, just them, just this moment, an endless stretch of warmth and vibration that shimmered down her body.

Over her skin.

Under it.

Every inch of her was going liquid, hot and wanting.

She slid her palms up his back, feeling every muscle that had survived his time behind a desk, muscles that had been created by hard work on his ranch—riding, roping, straining under the sun as sweat dappled his skin.

Wanting to feel him all the way against her, she deepened the kiss, pulling him down, opening her mouth, nearly devouring him in her wild need. She was going tight all over—her breasts, the center of her—and she was going to need a release.

Him—her ultimate release.

She panted, “I’ve been wishing this would happen for so long. You don’t know what it’s been like, waiting for you, hoping…”

“I know,” he said raggedly, his fingers threaded through her hair. He knew.

He’d thought about kissing her again, too, holding her, pressing her against his body so that she could feel just how much he’d been wishing for her.

She pulled his hat off his head, clutching it as he came down for another kiss, just as hungry for her as she was for him.

This time he wasn’t kissing her with the desperation of a grieving man, a man who was searching for a truth. Now, he took it slow, sliding his tongue past her lips, exploring as she melted beneath him, so overwhelmed that he had to hold her up when her knees gave out.

Her breasts were aching for a touch, more sensitive than she’d ever known because of the pregnancy but especially now, as he brushed a hand over one, tenderly…. Almost lovingly.

But Mina wouldn’t believe that. Not until she heard him say it.

“Chet,” she said on a near moan.

Encouraged, he circled her nipple with a thumb. With the lace of her bra and her blouse between her and his skin, all she wanted to do was strip off her clothing, be with him entirely.