Temporary Husband (7 page)

He blocked her path, catching her off guard. She looked at him, startled, and her breath came swift and uneven. He didn’t hesitate, but took her mouth in a demanding kiss. He felt, rather than heard, her small murmur of protest. She stiffened, not quite fighting him, but not responding as she had at the Montagues’.

He lifted his head and stared down at her. “Relax,” he murmured, stroking his thumb along the tender curve of her cheek. “You want this as much as I do.”

“I thought I did,” she said, a tiny catch robbing the certainty from her voice. “I seem to be having second thoughts.”

“You won’t for long.”

His mouth dropped over hers once again and he molded her closer, exploring the shapely curves beneath the thin cotton nightgown. If he’d had any lingering qualms about taking advantage of her, they vanished, dissolving beneath his desperate need to possess the woman in his arms. She belonged to him now, and he meant to take what was his.

He released the buttons fastening the bodice of her nightgown and swept the material from her shoulders, baring her to his intent gaze. Moonlight lanced across the paleness of her skin, carving tempting shadows between her gently rounded breasts. He groaned, lowering his mouth to taste her perfection.

She seemed to shudder, though she didn’t make a sound, merely lifted a hand to brush the hair from his brow. The muted gleam of her wedding band distracted him and he pulled back, looking at her, seeing her clearly for the first time that night.

And what he saw stopped him cold.

A solitary tear traced a path down the waxen curve of her cheek, and he took a quick step back, disgusted by what he’d been about to do. And yet, despite that disgust, every instinct he possessed railed at him to finish what he’d started, to put his mark on her in the most basic way possible. He’d never considered himself noble or honorable or decent. Tonight confirmed that beyond any doubt. But looking into Wynne’s wide, unflinching eyes, seeing her acceptance of such an untenable situation very nearly unmanned him.

What the hell had he done, marrying her like this?

He took another step back and then another and another until he’d put as much room between them as he could. “Get in the bed,” he whispered harshly.

Still she didn’t speak, merely drew her nightgown back in place and obeyed. She clambered onto the mattress, and in that moment, he knew. He couldn’t touch her,
couldn’t risk hurting her. Not now. Not even if it meant losing the inheritance he’d fought so hard to win.

He forced himself to turn his back on her, staring instead at the desert skirting the hotel, feeling oddly at one with the bleak beauty. Slowly the serenity of the landscape crept into his soul, calming him, and he gained a small measure of control. Only the strongest and most determined survived in such an arid section of the country—just as only through sheer strength and determination had he survived the aridness of his youth. But his survival had never been at anyone’s expense but his own.

Until now.

“Jake…?”

He didn’t turn around. “Go to sleep, elf. We’ll talk in the morning.”

He heard the rustle of sheets as she left the bed and approached, felt her icy hand slip across his bicep. “Have I done something wrong?” she questioned quietly.

His laugh rang out, cold and humorless. “Yeah. You did something wrong. You married me.”

“No,” she protested. “Marrying you was the smartest thing I ever did.”

He spun around, grabbing her shoulders. “Don’t you get it? Don’t you realize what happened here tonight? I almost…I almost…” He couldn’t speak the words, couldn’t admit he’d nearly committed such a vile act.

“Don’t say it,” she urged, pressing her fingertips to his mouth. “You did nothing wrong. I’m your wife, remember? You could never hurt me.”

“If that’s what you really believe, then you’re setting yourself up for a mighty big fall.” He stepped away, warning, “It’s not wise to stand this close, not the way I’m feeling right now. Wife or not, it’s clear I can’t be trusted.”

She stood her ground. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’d trust you with my life. Please come to bed with me, Jake. I don’t want to sleep alone on our wedding night.”

He shook his head. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“No, I don’t suppose I do. Come, anyway.” She tilted her head to one side and a smile trembled at the corners of her mouth, erasing all vestige of her earlier tears. “I promise I won’t take advantage of you.”

Not bothering to argue further, he swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed. Tucking her carefully beneath the covers, he started to return to his stance by the window, but found it impossible to leave her side. Instead he stripped off his robe and joined her between the sheets. More than anything he wanted to pull her into his arms. But that would be begging for trouble. He’d narrowly escaped their last encounter with his sanity intact. He’d never escape this one if he gave in and held her again.

“Jake?”

“I’m right here,” he murmured gently. “Try to get some sleep.”

“What about your requirement—that we consummate the marriage tonight?”

“Forget it,” he said, slinging an arm across his eyes. “It was an unreasonable demand.”

“If you say so. But if you change your mind…”

“I won’t.”

Silence reigned for a moment or two, then, “Jake?”

“What is it?”

“I really am glad I married you.”

He swallowed the thickness blocking his throat. “Me, too, elf. Me, too.”

Jake awoke in that timeless moment between the black of night and the first light of dawn, not quite certain
what had disturbed him. A whispery sigh drifted from the other side of the mattress and he turned his head. Wynne lay facing him, sound asleep, and in that instant reality came crashing down. He was married—a condition he’d sworn he’d avoid—and this slip of a woman was his wife. He gritted his teeth, calling himself every kind of a fool. What had he been thinking, marrying someone so clearly out of her element? He must have lost his mind.

She murmured a name—his name, perhaps—and he propped himself on one elbow, studying her. She’d kicked off her covers during the night and her nightgown had ridden up, hugging her slender hips. She had beautiful legs, lean and lightly muscled, legs that begged to be touched. He gave in to their allure, stroking the silken skin of her thigh, inching his hand ever upward. Slowly, carefully, he slipped beneath the thin cotton nightgown, his palm caressing the curve of her hip.

She felt like heaven.

He closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the need to make this woman his. He wanted her. He wanted her as desperately now as he had last night. She was his wife, dammit all. He could take her and no one would object—including his lovely bride. But to fondle her as she slept, when she wasn’t in a position to object…What sort of lowlife was he? Using every ounce of strength, he removed his hand and opened his eyes.

Wynne’s sleepy gaze met his.

Her expression held open curiosity, and he stilled, reining in his desires, forcing his features into an impassive mask. His control was pointless. She inhaled sharply, comprehension dawning with the first glimmer of morning light. Her spring-green eyes never wavered, hope shimmering in their depths, and she shifted closer, trapped within the stream of scarlet rays just peeking
over the windowsill. Sunrise bathed her in a russet glow, licking across her hair and skin like a flame.

She greeted him with a shy smile. “Good morning, Mr. Hondo.”

“Mornin’, Mrs. Hondo,” he replied gruffly. “How did you sleep?”

“Not. bad. Thank you for joining me. I was afraid you wouldn’t.”

“I almost didn’t.”

“What changed your mind?”

“You asked so nicely. How could I refuse?”

She grinned in response and brushed a lock of hair from her eyes. The unstudied movement caused the bodice of her nightgown to gape, exposing her breasts. They were lovely, pale and round, the nipples the color of sun-ripened peaches. Unable to resist, he reached out and filled his palm, anticipating some sort of protest. It never came. Her only reaction was a muffled gasp, and then her eyes grew dark and slumberous.

He glanced down at his hand, his copper-tinged skin a sharp contrast to the pure whiteness of her breast. She was beautiful, beautiful to the eyes and exquisite to the touch. And as one timeless moment followed another, he silently raged at himself for allowing lust to overrule common sense. With a bitten off curse, he released her.

“Don’t stop,” she murmured shyly.

His mouth tightened. “You’re joking, right?”

“I’m not afraid anymore.”

He jackknifed upright, looming over her, infusing his voice with a strong warning. “You will be if I don’t stop. I guarantee it.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Oh, no?” He laughed at her naivete, the sound barren and humorless. “We’ve had this conversation before, remember? I’m not capable of doing anything else.”

“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.