Mail-order Bridegroom Part 11

He found the clasp of her bra and unhooked it, sliding the silk from her body.

She closed her eyes, her breathing shallow and rapid. He didn't lie.

She knew from experience that making love to him would be wonderful.

It was the morning after that concerned her, when she'd have to face the knowledge that he'd come one step closer to achieving his goal--of winning both the ranch and her. His hand closed over her breast and her heart pounded beneath the warmth of his palm. For an endless instant she hung in the balance between conceding defeat and allowing her emotions free rein, or fighting for what mattered most.

Because if she couldn't protect herself from his determined a.s.sault, how could she ever expect to protect the ranch and all those who depended on her?

She shifted within his grasp.

"It's too soon," she protested in a low voice.

"We'll take it slow." He traced her curves with a callused hand, scalding her with his touch.

"We can always stop." But we won't want to. The words lay unvoiced between them, his thoughts as clear to her as if he'd spoken them aloud, and she shuddered.

Stepping back, he stripped off his jacket and tie. Ripping open the b.u.t.tons of his shirt, he swept her into his arms

and carried her to the petal-adorned bed. Once there he lowered her to the soft mattress and followed her down.

His fingers sank into her hair, filling his hands with long silvery curls.

"I've wanted to do this ever since I saw that picture of you,"

he muttered.

She stirred uneasily.

"What picture?"

He tensed, and for a long moment neither of them moved. Her question had

caught him unawares and she struggled to focus on it, to figure out why he'd

reacted so strongly. He'd seen a recent picture of her.The knowledge was inescapable and she withdrew slightly, confused, questionshammering at her brain. Where and when had he seen the photo. in the study,perhaps? If so, why the strange reaction?

"The picture on your father's desk," he explained quietly. "It shows you with long hair."

"It was shorter when you worked here."

"Yeah, well. I like it long."But the mood had been broken and she rolled away from him, drawing her kneesup against her chest. There was more to his idle comment than she had thestrength or energy to a.n.a.lyze.

"Hunter," she said in a low tone.

"I can't."

"It's only natural to feel nervous," he said in a cool voice, making no

attempt to touch her.

"It's not just nerves." She swept up the sheet, wrapping herself in its

concealing folds. Shoving her hair back over her shoulders, she met hiswatchful gaze."You've gotten your way. Hunter. We're married and there's no going back.

You said yourself that we have all the time in the world. Why rush this part of it and risk damaging our relationship?"

A muscle leapt in his jaw.

"You think making love will damage our relationship?"

She caught her lower lip between her lip and nodded.

"It will if we're not both ready for this. And, in all honesty, I'm notready.""When will you be?" he asked bluntly.She shrugged uneasily."I couldn't say.""Give it your best guess. I don't have an infinite amount of patience.""That's not what you told me five minutes ago," she flashed back.He clasped her shoulders, hauling her close."Five minutes ago you were as anxious as I to consummate this marriage. You want me every bit as much as I want you. I know it and you know it.""That's l.u.s.t, not love. And l.u.s.t isn't enough for me." Aware of how much she'd inadvertently revealed, she fought free of his hold and scrambled off the bed.

"I... I just need a little bit of time, that's all. Can't you understand?

Am I asking so much?"

He laughed harshly, running a hand through his hair. "What will happen

between us is inevitable. Tonight, tomorrow or the next night... What's thedifference?"She peeked at him through long lashes."Forty-eight hours," she said with a hesitant smile. For a minute she didn't think he'd respond.

Then he relaxed, his tension dissipating, and he nodded, though she sensed astrong undercurrent of anger just beneath his surface calm."Okay, Leah. I'll wait." His gaze held a warning."Just don't push it. My tolerance has limits.""I'm well aware of that." She backed toward the door. "I'd like to change.""Don't be long."Striving for as much dignity as possible, considering that she kept tripping over the sheet, she left Hunter and hurried

to her own room. There she stripped off her few remaining clothes.

Pawing through her dresser drawers, she pulled out the most modest nightgown she possessed and tugged it on.

Covered from head to toe in yards and yards of baby- fine linen, she sat onthe edge of the bed and nibbled on her fingertip. Had she made her situationbetter or worse? she wondered. She wasn't quite sure.

Perhaps it would have been wiser to make love with him and be done with it,regardless of his motivations for marrying her. Only, in her heart ofhearts, she knew it wouldn't truly be lovemaking, at least not on his part.It would be s.e.x, pure and not so simple. Or, worse. it would be revenge.

She curled up on the bed, hugging a pillow to her chest. If only he cared.If only he loved her. Her hand closed around his wedding-gift, the talismanhe'd so unexpectedly given her. His love would make all the difference inthe world. But he no longer felt that way about her. And the sooner sheaccepted that, the better off she'd be.

But telling herself that didn't prevent a wistful tear from sliding down her cheek.

CHAPTER FIVE.

leah stirred just as dawn broke the horizon. Confused by the unexpectedweight pinning her legs to the mattress, she turned her head and foundherself face to face with Hunter--a sleeping Hunter.

It brought her fully awake. She risked a quick glance around, confirming hersuspicions. So she hadn't dreamed it. She was back in the master bedroom.

Vaguely she remembered Hunter coming to her old room where she'd drifted offon top of the bed, a pillow clutched to her breast. He'd gently pried itfree, and at her drowsy protest rasped, "We sleep together, wife." With that, he'd lifted her into his arms andcarried her from the room. She hadn't fought. Instead, she'd wound her armsaround his neck and snuggled against his chest as though she belonged, asthough she never wanted to let go.

When he'd put her into his bed she'd been greeted by the sweet aroma ofcrushed flowers, followed by a stronger, muskier scent as Hunter had joinedher on the mattress. All she recalled after that was a delicious warmth and peace invading her, body and soul, as he'd enclosed her in his embrace,wrapping her in a protective coc.o.o.n of strong arms and taut, muscular legs.

She glanced at him again, studying his imposing features with an acutecuriosity. Even sleep couldn't blunt his tough, masculine edge, a night'sgrowth of beard only serving to intensify the aura of danger and maleaggression that clung to him like a second skin. The sheet skimmed his waist, baring his broad chest to her view, and she drank in the clean, powerful lines, wondered if he slept nude. Somehow she suspected that he did, though she didn't have the nerve to peek.

In all their times together, never had they been able to spend a night in each other's arms. Their joining had been pa.s.sionate and earth-shattering and the most wondrous experience of her life. But it had also consisted of brief, stolen moments away from the suspicious eyes of her father and grandmother and the other ranch employees.

The irony of their current situation didn't escape her. Years ago she'd have given anything to spend a single night with him. To know, just once, the rapture of greeting the dawn safe and secure within his sheltering hold.

Finally given her dearest wish, all she felt was apprehension and dismay--and an overwhelming desire to escape before he awoke.

Cautiously she slipped from his loose grasp and eased off the bed.

Only then did she realize that some time during the early morning hours her nightgown had become trapped beneath him, and that he'd entwined her hair in his fingers as though, even in his sleep, he couldn't bear to let her go.

Precious moments flew by as she untangled her hair and freed her gown.

Gathering up the voluminous skirt, she tiptoed from the room.

A quick stop in the kitchen to grab an apple and a handful of sugar cubes, and she was outside and free. She raced across the dew-laden gra.s.s to the south pasture fence, the wind catching her hair and sweeping it into the air behind her like long, silver streamers.

Whistling for Dreamseeker, she wondered if she'd ever tame such a wild and willful beast.

He came to her then, bursting across the pasture, a streak of jet against a cornflower-blue sky. Forming a deep pocket

for the apple and sugar with theexcess material of her nightgown, she awkwardly climbed the fence and sat onthe top rail, the thin cotton affording little protection from the splinteredwood beneath.

Dreamseeker joined her, s.n.a.t.c.hing greedily at the apple she offered.

Not satisfied, he b.u.t.ted her shoulder until she relented and gave him the

sugar as well. He waited, muscles quivering, head c.o.c.ked at an arrogantangle, allowing her to scratch and caress his gleaming coat.She crooned in delight, rubbing his withers, thrilled by his show of trust."What the h.e.l.l are you doing?"Leah didn't know who was more startled, she or Dreamseeker. Springing from her grasp, the horse shot away from the fence, leaving her teetering on the rail. With a cry of alarm, she tumbled to the ground at Hunter's feet, the hem of her gown snagging on a protruding nail.

She tugged impatiently at it, the sound of ripping cloth making her wince.

She glared up at him, placing the blame where it belonged--square on hisbroad shoulders. "Dammit, Hunter! This is all your fault. What do you mean, sneaking around like that?"

He folded his arms across his chest and lifted an eyebrow.

"Sneaking?"

"Yes, sneaking. You scared Dreamseeker and you scared me." She shook out

her nightgown, lifting the dew-soaked hem clear of the gra.s.s.

Peering over her shoulder, she searched for the source of the ripping sound.

Finding it, she muttered in disgust, "Just look at the size of that hole."

"I'm looking."

The hint of amus.e.m.e.nt in his voice brought her head around with a jerk. His

eyes weren't on the tear but on her. Realization came swiftly. With the sun at her back, the thin cotton she wore might as well have been transparent.

And Hunter, his thumbs once again thrust in his belt-loops, was enjoying every minute of the show.