Courting Carolina (18 page)

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Authors: Janet Chapman

BOOK: Courting Carolina
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Hell, had he
ever
been in control of this dream?

The scoundrel; Alec had snooped through her iPad and then had the audacity to be scandalized that she’d downloaded movies and books about sex. Yet she’d bet her emerald necklace that
he
hadn’t been living like a monk for the last twenty years, or that she was the only one going around auditioning lovers.

Jane got down on her hands and knees next to the campfire she’d constructed, deliberately facing her backside toward the ogling scoundrel, and blew on the smoking grass to coax it into flames—stifling a smile when she heard him muttering something under his breath about a goddamn bus.

Yes. Well. Alec MacKeage didn’t have a monopoly on lust—as he would discover tonight when they went to bed. Because after finding some way to trick him out of his underwear, she intended to crawl in the sleeping bag with him—fully clothed, of course—and finally see for herself what all that moaning and groaning and carrying on in those movies was all about.

Oh, her condom might be staying in her jewelry bag, but as the very happy Madam Xaviera Hollander had vividly expressed in her candid book, there were quite a few ways to curl a man’s toes.

Chapter Ten

Alec woke up to day five of his apparently on-again dream and smiled at the water’s reflection dancing on the grotto ceiling as he rubbed Jane’s sex-tangled hair between his battered fingers. Control, he decided, was a relative matter depending on which side of it a person was on. And handing control over to a sexy, intelligent, very determined princess could prove quite interesting—especially if she also happened to be quite passionate.

Lord, he couldn’t remember ever being so captivated by a woman. He could live to be a hundred and two and never grow tired of messing around with Jane, and if he died tomorrow, Alec suspected even the posies he’d be pushing up would be smiling.

For someone rebelling against a dictatorial father, Jane sure wasn’t above making a few demands of her own. She’d all but ordered him out of his clothes last night, using some lame excuse about needing to put salve on his shin and check the swelling on his ribs, only to
accidentally
spill an entire pot of water on his thermal bottoms and shirt so he couldn’t
put them back on. Then she’d added a couple of logs to the campfire and crawled—fully clothed—into as much of his sleeping bag as she could, considering he was already occupying most of it.

She hadn’t even waited sixty seconds before she’d pounced.

And being the lust-blinded idiot he was, Alec had not only let her, but had helped.

Yes, Jane was a very passionate woman, and what she lacked in experience she made up for in enthusiasm. She was also a quick study, surprisingly bold, and really quite inventive. He’d been so overwhelmed by her determination to give him pleasure that he’d come dangerously close to forgetting who
he
really was and
she
really was, and nearly taken things past the point of no return.

Forget the damn bus; Jane Smith had somehow managed to get past all the barriers he’d erected and smashed headlong into his heart. And although that would ultimately be a problem for him, Alec didn’t see any reason it had to be a problem
today
. Until Sam established a new identity for Jane, they could simply finish laying out the wilderness trail together, all while continuing to explore their seemingly well-matched passions. Hell, he was even willing to disappear with her when the time came, just to make sure she got safely settled in her new life, seeing how
the Celt
was really good at that particular game.

Alec kissed the top of Jane’s head when she stirred, and smiled again when he felt her stiffen, willing to bet his hunting rifle that she was blushing to the roots of her sex-tangled hair. “Good morning,” he said, his voice thick with some emotion he wasn’t quite willing to identify. He gave her hair a tug, partly to get her to look at him, but mostly to see her blush. Except that when she tilted her head back, the only pink in sight was where her cheek had been nestled against his naked chest, and she gave him a pleased-with-herself smile that crinkled the corners of her sleepy bedroom eyes.

Damn, he was in trouble—because if he remembered correctly, confident, passionate women really turned him on.

“Good morning,” she whispered, her voice also thick with…yup, that was definitely passion, evidenced by her hand sliding down his stomach.

Alec captured it before she could reach anything important, even as he felt heat creeping into
his
cheeks. He brought her palm to his lips and kissed it. “Have mercy, lass,” he said on a derisive snort. “If I get any more weak in the knees, I’ll never make the hike back to camp today.”

She gave him a really impressive pout. “Poor baby. Did all that moaning and groaning and carrying on last night wear you out?” She kissed his chest—her lips lingering a bit long, he couldn’t help but notice—then snuggled back against him with a sigh. “Can’t we just stay here in the grotto forever?”

“We’d eventually run out of food, I’m afraid.”

“Kitty could hunt for us.” She lifted her head to smile at him. “I’m certain I downloaded a book of recipes for venison and rabbit and partridge.”

“Ah, lass, but ye tempt me,” Alec said, giving her a squeeze. He touched his lips to her hair. “But last I knew, hiding from a problem never made it go away.” He tilted her head back and smoothed his thumb over her wrinkled brow. “Your week of getting your strength back and deciding what to do is almost up. So, have ye decided to let me help you deal with your father?”

She rolled away and sat up to stare out at the cove. “Nobody can
deal
with my father,” she said softly.

“I can. All ye need do is ask, Jane, and I’ll be your champion.”

She looked over her shoulder at him, her obvious surprise at the word
champion
turning to a sad smile as she gazed out at the water again. “I can’t ask, Alec, because I find myself caring about you too much.” He saw her release a shuddering breath. “And I will return home and be a dutiful daughter before I’ll let anything happen to you.”

Not caring for the direction this conversation was going, considering the night of passion they’d just shared, he reached out and pulled her into a fierce embrace. “With or
without your permission,” he growled, tugging on her hair so she could see he was serious, “and as long as there’s breath in me, your father will not bully you into a marriage ye don’t want.”

The sudden sparkle that came into her eyes completely ruined her threatening glower. “There you go again, sounding like the king of me,” she drawled, her fingers lazily running through his chest hair. “Really, Alec, you need to have a word with your royal mailman about misplacing my—”

He kissed her; partly to shut her up but mostly because her sassiness turned him on. The little minx didn’t even try to protest, her answering kiss immediate and hot and making every damn one of his blood cells rush straight to his groin at the memory of their passion-filled night. And when her hand slid down his stomach again, this time he didn’t stop her.

Jane had fallen into step behind Alec to judge for herself how well he was feeling, only to decide within the first ten minutes that the stubborn man was struggling despite having left his heavy pack at the grotto and cutting himself a walking stick to help with the rougher parts of the climb up to the trail. But because the satellite phone was at the lean-to, he was determined to reach camp before the helicopter left Nova Mare with the next two bridges, wanting to call Duncan and postpone the delivery for a few days.

Jane felt guilty it was her fault that Alec felt rushed because she’d all but attacked him again this morning—although only a little guilty, considering he had attacked her back. Right after she’d collapsed beside him—her breathing as ragged as his—the man had somehow managed to find the strength to dress himself, undress her, then give her another wonderful taste of unbelievable pleasure.

Jane had never been so glad she’d been born a woman. Oh, she might technically still be a virgin, but she certainly didn’t feel like one. Alec MacKeage might still be an underachieving ski bum of a scoundrel, but after last night she no
longer could deny he was
her
scoundrel. “I do believe I finally understand what sex is all about,” she said just as they finally reached the trail.

Alec turned to her with a chuckle. “You’re only now figuring out how babies are made?”

Jane started past him toward camp, walking backward. “I’m not talking about procreation; I’m talking about sex. Or more specifically, the
pleasure
of sex.”

“I’m pretty sure mankind wouldn’t have gotten past the Stone Age if making babies weren’t pleasurable,” he said, returning her smile with a thoroughly male grin. “It’s needed to counter the stress of raising all the little heathens it produces.”

Jane stopped walking. “The drive to procreate is in every plant and animal on the planet, but having sex for the sheer joy of it even
after
a baby’s been conceived is almost uniquely human.” She canted her head. “And do you know why that is?”

He stopped walking when he reached her and grinned again. “To make sure all the lust-blinded idiots hang around long enough to provide food and shelter and safety for the mothers and babes.”

She nodded. “Exactly. Sexual pleasure creates intimacy between a man and woman, and bonds them as a couple.”

“So we’re a couple now because of the pleasure we’ve shared?”

Jane patted his chest, then left her hand there. “Well, I do find myself feeling rather proprietary toward you this morning.” She tilted her head in question again. “And I wonder what your reaction would be if a man walked up to me right now, pulled me into his arms, and kissed me quite passionately. Would you shove your hands in your pockets and casually stroll away—whistling?”

His already deep green eyes darkened. “I might,” he said ever so softly, “after I beat the bastard to a bloody pulp.” He threw his walking stick into the trees and pulled her into his embrace, then leaned in until their noses were nearly touching. “But my hands wouldn’t be in my pockets; they’d be
holding ye tossed over my shoulder as I strolled away—whistling.”

Jane closed the two inches remaining between them and kissed him full on the mouth, then pulled away with a laugh. “Will you be my boyfriend, Alec?” she asked as she headed down the trail again so he wouldn’t see her holding her breath.

She nearly suffocated waiting for him to answer, and then he only asked another question. “Would having a boyfriend get your father off your back?”

“Probably not,” she said, stopping but continuing to look straight ahead.

“Would being your boyfriend give me the right to stand beside you when you finally do face him?”

“No.”

“Jane.”

She turned to see that he hadn’t moved from the spot where she’d kissed him, and beamed him the brightest smile she could muster. “Being my boyfriend would give you the right to share my bed every night, though.” She held up a hand to stop him from speaking. “Providing we always stop short of using my condom.”

He dropped his gaze to the trail between them and remained silent so long, Jane realized she was holding her breath again when she started feeling dizzy.

He finally looked at her. “We came dangerously close to needing it last night, lass,” he said quietly. “But the bond I believe you’re talking about is only realized with that final act of intimacy.” He slowly shook his head. “And I’m sorry, but that’s not going to happen between us. It can’t, Jane, because you’re an all-or-nothing woman, and I…” He lifted his arms from his sides and let them fall back. “I have nothing to offer you.”

She was suddenly so angry she almost stamped her foot. “I’m not asking you to marry me,” she snapped, spinning on her heel and marching down the trail again—only to squeak in surprise when he pulled her to a stop and turned her around.

“Give me your word that you won’t suddenly disappear.”

Jane lowered her gaze to escape the intensity in his and brushed at nothing on her jacket. “I believe only a boyfriend may ask for that kind of promise.” She pulled in a steadying breath and lifted her eyes to his. “So what’s the point of my staying? If I can’t even look at you without wanting to rip off all your clothes and lose myself in your body until time stops and the world ceases to exist but for the passion you ignite inside me, then why stay?”

He dropped his hands and stepped back. “For the love of God, woman, ye can’t say something like that to a man.” He grasped her shoulders and got right in her face again. “Don’t do this, Jane; don’t drive an all-or-nothing wedge between us. Please, lass,” he said more softly, pulling her into a breath-robbing hug. “Just promise me ye won’t suddenly vanish.”

She balled the back of his jacket in her fists at the feel of his heart pounding against hers. “I promise not to vanish.” She leaned away. “But I can’t promise not to want you.”

He hugged her to him again on a deep sigh. “I’ll consider myself warned, then. And in return, I promise to let you trick me out of my clothes anytime ye want.”

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