Temporary Husband Page 6

  “Others may believe that, but I don’t.” She reached out, stroking the tense muscles of his arm. When he didn’t protest, she leaned closer, emboldened, pressing feather-light kisses the length of his raspy jawline.

  He managed to shove a single word past tightly clenched teeth. “Don’t.”

  “I just wanted to show I wasn’t afraid.”

  “Aren’t you?” It would be so easy to prove her wrong. His resolve hardened. Maybe if he did, it would settle the situation between them once and for all. He didn’t delay any further. In one lightning-fast move, he tossed her backward. Crouching above, he planted his hands on either side of her head, settling the lower half of his body on top of hers. Only her cotton nightgown separated them. It was a flimsy barrier—about as flimsy as his self-control. “Afraid now?” he demanded.

  She shook her head, but he noticed that some of her confidence had fled.

  “You should be.”

  Shadows briefly marred the serenity of her expression before vanishing in the face of absolute certainty. “I need you, Jake.” She reached for him, tracing the taut angles of his face from cheekbone to chin. “And you need me.”

  The wild animal was back, feral gold eyes glaring down at her. “Why are you doing this?” he snarled. “Don’t you understand? Don’t you get it? This marriage should never have happened. I’m not a safe man to be around.”

  “Do you want to hurt me?” she asked curiously. “Does it give you pleasure to hurt people?”

  A muscle jerked in his cheek. “No.”

  “Then don’t.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Isn’t it?” Her other hand settled on his hip, gliding upward, tracing the contoured muscles from abdomen to chest.

  His breathing grew strained and he caught her hand, stilling its insidious exploration. “I can’t…I don’t…Damn, but you’re pushing your luck.”

  “I guess I am. But tell me something…If I said you were hurting me, would you stop?”

  His throat worked for a moment as though answering were a struggle. Finally he nodded. “Yeah. I’d stop.”

  She smiled, her expression so radiant, it blinded him to everything else. “Then I’ll make a deal with you. The minute you do something that hurts me, I’ll ask you to stop. And if I do anything that hurts you, just say the word. All right?”

  A harsh, disbelieving laugh burst from him. “You can’t be serious—”

  “I’m very serious.” She gazed up at him, her eyes clear and direct. It was a probing look, one that threatened to pierce straight to his very soul—assuming he still had anything worthy of such a name. And then she said something that knocked him over the edge. “I trust you, Jake.”

  So simple. So absolute. So innocent and trusting. And so devastating. It broke him, splintering the rock-solid shell he’d spent his entire life erecting.

  From the minute he’d seen her, he’d wanted her. Of course, it had been sheer desire, a physical need, savage and elemental and basic. He hadn’t tried to fool himself about that—had never held with the sort of man who wrapped lust in pretty lies. No, he’d always been blunt and honest, both with himself and with his women. He took what he wanted without concern for the consequences before walking away—heart-whole and fancyfree. It had been his credo as long as he could remember.

  But with Wynne…

  He couldn’t. He couldn’t take her with the same thoughtless disregard. She wasn’t like the other women he’d had. They’d all known the score. And if they’d secretly hoped to change his mind, he’d been quick to disabuse them of the notion.

  “Jake?”

  He fought for strength, fought harder than he ever had before. If he never committed another noble or honorable act again in his life, so help him, he’d get this one moment right. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “If you want me to stop, say the word and I’ll stop.” He hoped. With infinite care, he gathered her close. “Just do me one favor.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t wait too long. My off switch isn’t all that trustworthy.”

  Her soft laugh was as arousing as a caress. “You won’t need it. I promise.”

  “I hope you take your promises seriously,” he muttered and lowered his head, kissing her with unchecked passion.

  He was done talking. If he frightened her, it would be best to know now while he still had the self-possession to leave her untouched. But instead of pulling back, she wrapped her arms around him and gave him kiss for kiss.

  Wynne was lost. Lost in a sensuous haze of mouths and tongues and tender caresses. She was still on her back, the hem of her nightgown drifting ever upward, the neckline falling further open. And always his hands—skating, probing, coasting over bared skin.

  “Too many clothes,” he muttered, the warmth of his breath catching in the hollow of her shoulder.

  And then there weren’t any clothes.

  “Jake…” His name came out half-strangled. “Please.”

  “I want to please you. Tell me it’s what you want, too.” He surged upward, lifting half-off her. Cool air swirled into the breach, a biting foil to the explosive heat simmering between them. “What’s your final answer, wife?”

  “Wait…” She groaned in dismay, knowing that wasn’t what she’d meant, that she’d only said it to keep him from leaving her side. Everything was so mixed up. So confused. Words didn’t make sense any more. Nothing made sense…except for Jake.

  “You want me to stop?” His voice sounded strained, urgent. “Don’t play games with me, dammit!”

  Her head shifted restlessly against the sheets. “No. Don’t stop.” Finally the words came out right, fervent in their demand. With an aggression that amazed her, she pulled him back into her arms, shifting to accommodate his weight. “Don’t ever stop.”

  His mouth found hers, absorbing her whimpered pleas before slipping downward. He anointed her rounded contours with his tongue, savoring each gentle dip and curve as though it were an exotic spice. His touch left behind a trail of insidious devastation as he explored places never seen by a man, let alone kissed. And all the while a burning need licked at her. She trembled helplessly as Jake fed that fire, building it higher and brighter and hotter. Desire became a ravenous hunger unlike any she’d ever known, a hunger she’d do anything to sate.

  “Jake!” She sobbed out his name, begging for that ultimate gratification.

  “It’s coming, sweetheart. I promise, it’s coming.”

  Still his hands played, tripping along nerves stretched to the brink. As though sensing she’d reached the end of her endurance, he positioned himself between her thighs. For an endless moment she lay spread beneath him, trembling helplessly on the verge of some great cataclysm. Then he drove into her with one surging thrust.

  He tensed as he absorbed the shock of her innocence, his eyes blazing like golden flames through a tumble of black hair. “What—”

  “It’s all right,” she tried to reassure. “Please, Jake!”

  Didn’t he understand? The pain of his taking was nothing in comparison to the urgent need his possession had sparked. She smoldered with it. Desperate to convince him, she rocked her hips upward in silent appeal, begging for the completion hovering just out of reach. He wanted to pull away, she could tell, and she watched helplessly as he fought an inner battle, struggling to subdue the most powerful of nature’s urges.

  It was a battle he had no hope of winning.

  “I can’t,” he muttered. “Heaven help me, I can’t…”

  He shut his eyes, fighting for restraint, fighting to make her passage as painless as possible. But restraint was also beyond him. The breath exploded from his chest and he drove into her heat. “Forgive me, elf,” he gasped out the words. “I never meant for this to happen.”

  They rode the crest together, out of control and not caring. It was a magical experience, a melding of heart and body and soul. And just as the sun loosened its full glory on the p
air of lovers, they found sweet deliverance within its circle of golden light.

  Wynne didn’t know how much time passed or how long they lay entwined in each others arms. But with the sating of their passion, sanity returned. Jake was the first to recover.

  “You were a virgin,” he accused, rolling free of her embrace.

  Suddenly self-conscious, she tugged the sheet around her. Not that he seemed terribly concerned about modesty. “I didn’t think you’d notice.”

  “You didn’t think I’d…” Outrage battled disbelief. “Take my word for it, I noticed!”

  “Does it matter that much?”

  He came off the bed, snagging his robe from the floor as he did so. “We discussed this last night at the Montagues’,” he said, thrusting his arm into the terry-cloth sleeve. “I told you flat out that I didn’t want to be married to a virgin.”

  “Well…you’re not. At least, not anymore.”

  His scalding invectives brought a rosy glow to her cheeks. “Don’t split hairs with me, lady. Dammit all, I don’t want to be saddled with a virgin. I wouldn’t know what to do with one.”

  She gave him a mischievous grin. “What you just did suits me fine. And as I keep pointing out…It’s no longer an issue.”

  “That’s not what I meant!” His anger simmered visibly, like heat roiling in the desert air. “You lied to me. You said you’d been engaged three different times.”

  “I didn’t lie. I was engaged three times.”

  “And not one of them…They never…?”

  “Not one of them,” she confirmed. “Ever.”

  “It staggers the imagination,” he muttered, then grimaced. “That doesn’t change the fact that I need an experienced woman. I need someone who’s willing to admit in open court that I…That we…”

  She tilted her head to one side. “Yes? That we…what?”

  “That we—”

  A loud banging sounded at the door. “Aunt Wynne! Aunt Wynne! Wake up.”

  Jake stiffened. “Now who the hell is that?” Laser-sharp eyes focused on her. “Something I should know about?”

  Wynne swallowed nervously. She really wished she’d had a little more time to prepare him. Because she suspected that his annoyance over her innocence would be nothing compared to his annoyance over this next bit of news. Gathering every ounce of self-possession, she offered a tentative smile.

  “That,” she announced, “is my inheritance.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  NOT WAITING TO SEE how Jake would react to the news, Wynne jumped out of bed, dragging the sheet with her. Unlatching the door, she opened it a scant inch. “Hey, brat,” she teased the boy planted squarely in front of the threshold. “You’re up early.”

  “It weren’t me,” scorned Buster, hauling a younger boy out from behind him. “It was Chick. He got scared when he woke up and couldn’t find you.”

  “What about Laura?” Wynne asked in concern. “She was there, wasn’t she?”

  Buster shrugged. “He didn’t want Laura.”

  She switched her attention to the smaller of the two, and offered a reassuring smile, not at all surprised to see Chick’s thumb firmly planted in his mouth. “Well, I’m here now. Just give me a minute to dress and I’ll let you in so you can meet your new uncle, okay?”

  That sparked some interest. “An uncle?” Buster questioned cautiously, exchanging a quick look with his brother. “How’d we get an uncle?”

  “I married him last night. Remember? I told you I might. Now don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

  She decided not to introduce the boys to Jake until she’d changed into something more appropriate to a first meeting than a sheet. Leaving the door slightly ajar, she snatched up her overnight bag before shooting Jake a brief, nervous glance. He stood by the window facing her, his arms folded across his chest. His expression did not bode well for her future health.

  Fleeing into the bathroom, she slammed the door closed. This was not good. She leaned against the cool, painted surface and nibbled her lower lip. How much had he heard and just how mad was he? Enough, she decided, and plenty mad. If she read that glitter in his eyes correctly, he was seriously ticked off. She sighed.

  This was not going at all as she’d planned—except for last night and this morning. That had exceeded every dream she’d ever envisioned and then some. She shoved her wedding band more securely onto her finger, her movement reflected in the mirror over the sink. Curious, she dropped her bag and crept closer, studying herself for any changes the past few hours had wrought.

  Her hair couldn’t have been more rumpled if she’d just come in from a fast ride in an open convertible. Beneath wispy bangs, her eyes glowed a vivid green, brimming with happiness and startling in their intensity. She looked as though she’d found the key to all the secrets in the universe and then some. Well, maybe she had. She’d certainly found a whole new world locked within Jake’s arms.

  She adjusted her grip on the sheet and it dipped lower, exposing a small patch of reddened skin. It was a brand of possession—Jake’s possession—and she swallowed, remembering the delicious rasp of his stubbled cheek against her breast.

  Three different fiancés had attempted every wile under the sun to lure her into their beds and not once had she been tempted. But with Jake…No wiles. No lures. Just a passionate, irresistible man with wicked gold eyes and a touch that drove every thought but one from her head. And look where that one thought had led her—straight into marriage and then into his bed.

  Had it been a mistake? She shook her head without a moment’s hesitation. No. She hadn’t made a mistake. She’d chosen a warrior to fight Mrs. Marsh and a husband who’d made her passage into marriage a memory more precious than anything that had gone before.

  Jake pounded on the door. “Move it, elf,” came his muffled order. “You can’t hide in there forever. Get your tail out here and face the music.”

  She sighed. So much for precious memories.

  Catapulted into action, she took the fastest shower on record and scrambled into her clothes, happiness gripping her despite her worries. The past twenty-four hours had been the most wondrous, enchanted moments of her entire life. And the idea of a future filled with equally wondrous, enchanted moments brought a silly grin to her mouth.

  It disappeared the instant she stepped from the bathroom.

  “Who the hell is the kid at the door?” Jake demanded.

  She hesitated, casting him a quick, sidelong glance, noticing he’d also taken time to dress. Well-worn jeans clung to his lean hips, delineating the powerful length of his thighs. More distracting was his unbuttoned shirt, which did nothing to conceal the impressive breadth of his darkly furred chest.

  “He’s my nephew.”

  Jake’s eyes narrowed as he shoved his feet into boots. “He has something to do with your inheritance?”

  She shot a quick look at the gaping door, certain the boys were eavesdropping on every word of their conversation. “He is my inheritance, but, ah…” She wavered, torn between the desire to answer Jake’s questions and her anxiety over leaving the boys standing in the hallway unattended. She’d learned from past experience that they didn’t do well on their own. In fact, it was amazing they hadn’t already lost patience with the delay and erupted into the room. “Could we discuss this later?”

  “No. We’ll discuss this right now.”

  “Then, could we make it fast? The boys are waiting.”

  “Tough,” he retorted, then froze. “Whoa. Time out. You said boys. As in…plural? There’s more than one of ‘em?”

  “There’s two. Buster and Chick.” She edged toward the door. “Look…They’re my sister’s kids. She and her husband were killed a year ago and I’m their guardian. At least they were left to me in Tracy’s will. Unfortunately Mrs. Marsh—that’s their other aunt—is doing everything in her power to gain custody of them. So, I married you to prevent her from succeeding. Okay?”

  She never learned if he thought it was
okay or not. Another knock sounded at the door and Wynne flung it wide before Jake could gather breath to protest. To her relief, Laura had joined the boys.

  “About time,” she groused, stepping into the room, a decidedly grumpy expression marring an otherwise pretty face. “The minute I turned my back, these two took off. Though how they found your room is beyond

  me.”

  “We asked the front desk,” Buster explained. “They wouldn’t tell us till I pinched Chick and he started hollerin’.”

  Chick sniffled in response, rubbing an apparently sore arm.

  Jake took a step in their direction. “Would someone tell me what the hell—” Four sets of outraged eyes nailed him on the spot and he made a quick adjustment to his vocabulary. “What the…the heck-fire is going on?”

  Laura gave Jake one long, horrified look before spinning to confront Wynne. “Please. Tell me this isn’t your husband. He’s not, is he?”

  “Of course he’s my husband.” Wynne frowned. “Why?”

  “Oh, no. This will never do.”

  “Finally,” Jake said in satisfaction, folding his arms across his chest. “Someone who agrees with me.”

  “Why won’t he do?” Wynne questioned. She stared at the man she’d married, searching for any visible flaws she might have overlooked the night before. As far as she could tell, there were none. He was as perfect now as he’d been when she’d first laid eyes on him.

  “He’s a Texan!” Laura stated as though that were explanation enough. “I’d know that accent anywhere.”

  “Now wait just a damn—darn minute,” Jake growled, clearly insulted. “What’s wrong with Texans?”

  “Good question. What is wrong with Texans?” Wynne asked.

  “What’s wrong with them?” Laura grasped her friend’s arm and hustled her to one side of the room. “Have you lost your mind?” she questioned in a distressed voice. “You can’t throw a rope around a Texan and expect to lasso anything other than trouble.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Wynne said with a laugh. “Jake won’t give me a minute’s trouble. He’s here to help.”