To Tempt a Wilde (11 page)

He leaned against the wall, folding his arms over his chest, waiting to see her reaction.

He and his brothers had preserved the cabin as it had been when their father was alive. Each piece of furniture, although old, mostly scarred and nicked,
the scratches and dents on the walls, the old wood-burning stove in the center of the living area, were all reminders of their shared past.

Simply walking inside the old cabin brought memories of Nate's early life as a young boy to flood his mind.

Good as well as the painful ones. All were treasured.

He'd never brought anyone to the cabin, even the woman he was going to give his name, a woman
he thought he'd live the rest of his life with.

The reasons he brought Althea to his early childhood home, the fact that he wanted to share a piece of his past with her, were ones he chose not to delve too deeply into.

Although she appeared to be a woman of no means, a woman without a home, there was more to Althea than who she presented to the world. Her manner of speaking held a soft sophistication
that hinted she had come from not only an educated background, but he'd bet his ranch one where she'd been used to the finer things in life.

He saw her run her hand over the old fireplace before she lifted the lone framed photo set there and pushed away from the wall.

Once he stood directly behind her, he watched her fingers trace the old picture set behind the glass.

In the picture his father
was in the background
watching as he and his brothers were bent over the fire, preparing to brand their first horse. He wasn't sure who'd captured the picture, it was so long ago.

Yet the memory of that day was branded in his mind just as though it were yesterday.

“That was a day I've always remembered, I'm sure all of us will,” he said, laughing lightly as he stood behind her. “It was the first
time Dad trusted us enough to go near his prize horses.”

When she laughed softly along with him, he wrapped his arms around her waist. She instantly molded to him, relaxing within his embrace.

“And then there was the time we decided we were ready to break in one of Pop's new mustangs. Without a saddle. At midnight.”

“At midnight?”

“Yeah,” he said, running a hand through his hair, a sheepish
look on his handsome face. “That wasn't one of our brighter ideas.”

One story led to another, and by the time he'd finished, Althea was holding her sides in laughter.

“Oh God, enough!” she said, still chuckling at the antics of him and his brothers. “It sounds like you and your brothers loved every minute of it. It seems a pretty idyllic place for three boys to grow up,” she said once her laughter
had subsided, turning within his arms.

“We did,” he said. “Times were hard in the beginning,”

“I imagine so.”

“None of us knew what to expect, my brothers or Clint,” he said, referring to his foster father. “Like I said, none of us really knew what family was all about.”

He laughed lightly.

“But I wouldn't change anything about our life growing up here. It took a long time for me, for all
of us, to feel that way,” he said, the smile slight but still there, the love for his foster father there in his eyes, shining. “But even from the beginning this place has felt like home for me.”

The memories he shared with her brought an easy, almost carefree expression to his normally somber face, transforming his features.

Althea had already thought he was finest man she'd ever seen, but
when he smiled. Dear God. When the man smiled…

She inhaled a shaky breath.

Althea laughed at the stories he'd told her of growing up in the cabin with his father and brothers, as well as the fights they'd had.

“Me and my brothers, we didn't know what it was like.”

“Like?” she asked, smiling up at him.

“To be in a family. Shilah was the only one of us who'd lived with his parents for long
enough to even remember them. Holt and I, well, we'd never had family. Not real family, anyway.”

He shrugged, lifting a shoulder in casual disregard, yet Althea ached for the boy he'd been, and longed to know what had happened to his own family. But she remained silent, knowing that he'd tell her in his own time. If he wanted.

He shook his head in fond memory and dropped his arm from around
her waist, grabbing her hand, tugged her along the way, showing her the rest of the cabin and
telling stories, some of which Althea just knew had to be exaggerated. By the time he was finished she didn't know the last time she'd laughed so hard.

With each story, she felt their bond, a bond she was helpless against, grow stronger. With each story, she yearned to know more about him, to know him
in ways no one ever had. To know what happened to him as a young boy, why he had never had a family before Clint Wilde adopted him.

A jealous ping settled around her heart, making her pause, catch herself. She wanted to be the one, as his family had been, that he turned to in times of need.

They were in the larger of the two bedrooms. This one had a single bed and two bunk beds, the place he
and his brothers called theirs. She turned to see him in the doorway, looking at her with a half smile on his wide, sensual mouth. She slowly walked toward him, trying her best to rein in the onslaught of emotion that was crowding in on her.

As she approached him, he pushed away from the wall and met her halfway in the center of the bedroom.

Standing inches away from him, her gaze traveled over
his face. Cupping his face within the palms of her hands, she ran her fingers over the slight stubble that peppered his cheeks, his chin. She leaned into him as he pulled her against his body, his arms looping around her waist.

The memories he'd shared of his life as a young boy growing into manhood, everything he'd learned about ranch life and being a man, things he learned from Clint Wilde
along with his brothers, had molded him into the man he was today.

The one gazing down at her, emotion blazing in his golden-brown eyes.

She tugged him close, brought his face down to hers and closed her eyes. She drew in a deep breath as she ran the side of her cheek along the roughened stubble of his.

This was the type of man she'd longed for her whole life. He was the man she wanted for
her own.

The thought brought another painful stab to her chest even as her arms tightened around him.

Althea longed…ached, to be one of the people he loved, someone he was willing to fight for. To be a part of his family, to be his woman in every way…to have his children.

She drew in a sudden breath, squeezing her eyes tight.

He pulled away and brought his hands to the side of her face and
closed his mouth over hers.

Although brief, the touch of his mouth against hers, the feather-light caresses, along with the emotions crowding in on her, made her body tremble. All too soon the kiss was over and he released her.

“Thank you,” she whispered against his chest once the kissed ended.

He pulled away from her, a puzzled frown on his face.

She just shook her head, smiling, fighting
the tears. “For sharing your life with me.”

She smiled and pushed away, afraid that if she said any more she'd become a blathering idiot and scare the man to death.

“You gonna show me around the rest of the place?”

He didn't ask any questions, just nodded and led her out of the bedroom.

Taking her hand in his, he tugged her along with him.

“Follow me,” he said, walking her toward the back
of the cabin. Opening a door that led to a large open area, he brought her outside with him. Together, hand in hand, they walked for several yards until he stopped them when they reached a wrought-iron, intricately designed cross. Above the small tombstone was a small plaque pronouncing it to be the final resting place of Clint Wilde.

“Our father is buried here. He owned the property before the
city's ordinance that dictated no burials on private property. Not that we would have cared, anyway.” He laughed lightly.

Althea held on to his hand, tightening her grip, reaching out with the other to feather it over his thick forearm, the soothing gesture as automatic as it was unconscious.

“For the last six months we've been approached to sell the ranch,” he went on quietly.

Althea's gaze
flew to his. The thought that he would sell the ranch, something that was as much a part of him as his breath, brought an instant denial to her lips. He caught her look, shaking his head and leaned down, giving her a brief kiss.

“No, we're not selling. None of us would even consider the idea,” he said, once the kiss ended.

“Oh…good,” she said, not sure what else to say. It really wasn't any
of her business if he or his brothers
did sell, but the thought that they might was one that was upsetting to her.

“But our refusal to sell hasn't gotten through to Rolling Hills—the corporation that wants to buy us out,” he explained. Then he continued, “They still haven't given up.” With a sigh, he brought her close, placing her in front of his body. “Not only is this our living, it's our life.
The only one any of us have ever known.”

Althea leaned her head back against his broad chest, placing her hands on top of his where they were wrapped around her waist, content to be in his arms, hear his deep voice, the feel of it vibrating from his wide chest to her back.

“There's no other place on earth I'd rather be. No other place I could imagine I'd want to call home.”

Althea sighed, taking
in the view of the open land that stretched out as far as her eyes could see. The Teton Mountains in the background provided the perfect foil to the beauty of the landscape.

The Wyoming Wilde ranch was rustic, wild and untamed. Yet utterly beautiful.

Captivating. Just like the man whose arms were wrapped around her.

“No, I couldn't imagine you anywhere else but here, Nate,” she softly agreed.

A
lthea eased her body from beneath Nate's. Heat stole over her head to toe from simply looking at him, remembering the things he'd done to her, the way he'd made her body, mind and soul feel as he made love to her yesterday.

Everything about him was perfect, she thought, crazy tears burning the back of her eyes.

The sheet he'd used to cover their bodies had fallen down after
she'd eased away, revealing his broad, muscled chest. His stomach was lightly furred, and the sprinkling of hair over his groin lay partially hidden beneath the sheet.

Despite his being asleep, the outline of his shaft, thick, pressed against the sheet, and Althea stopped herself from reaching out, fingering it, outlining its thickness in her hand, testing the weight of the round spheres that
nestled behind it.

She drew in a shuddered breath and eased the rest of the way off the bed.

She picked up her discarded clothes, bundled them in front of her body, and after easing her T-shirt over her head she slipped her legs into her sweats.

As quietly as she could, she made her way to the door, the thick plush carpeting disguising the sound of her retreat.

Glancing down the long hallway,
she quickly left his bedroom and practically ran the distance down the stairs to one of the spare bedrooms he'd shown her yesterday. Once inside the room she closed the door and leaned against it. Putting her hand over her heart, she felt it slamming against her chest as though she had just run a marathon.

“God, I'm a mess,” she murmured, laughing at herself before walking toward the adjoining
bathroom. Opening the shower stall, she turned on the water, allowing it to heat, before turning away to remove her clothes.

The previous day had been magical, from the time he brought her to his childhood home to the moment he brought her back to the ranch.

After returning to the ranch he'd brought her to the main house.

For some reason, being there with him made her weirdly nervous, all alone.

“Where…where is everyone?” Althea asked, once they'd walked into the warm, airy kitchen. Expecting to see Lilly, she'd found the room empty, no delicious smells of cooking greeting them as they came inside.

“She's probably at church still. She's usually there most of the morning. I think she mentioned today was
her monthly usher board meeting,” he said, watching her, a small smile playing around
his mouth.

“Oh” was all she could bring herself to say, looking at everything but him. They'd been together, alone for the day, yet being in his home seemed so intimate.

“Your home is beautiful,” she murmured, walking around the spacious living area near the kitchen.

“Thank you.”

The silence stretched out, and nervously Althea cleared her throat. “Umm…what about your brothers? I thought you
all lived here…” she said, her voice trailing off when she felt his hands on her shoulders.

She closed her eyes and allowed him to turn her around.

He placed a finger beneath her chin.

“Am I making you nervous, Althea?”

She opened her mouth to deny it; saw the humor in his eyes and felt an answering grin tug at her own lips.

She shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “Maybe. A little.”

He brought
her close, his expression become serious. “Look, I'm not going to pretend I know what's going on with us, beyond now. This is new territory for me as well.”

Althea frowned. “But I thought…” she stopped, realizing that he'd never told her about his fiancée, something she'd learned from Lilly. “I mean, Lilly told me that you were once engaged, but that's all she said.”

His frown increased. “Yes,
I was. But I've never felt like this about anyone. Even Angela.”

At that her heart leaped, thumping hard against her
chest. When he brought her closer she eagerly went into his arms, not asking for any more than he was willing to give at the moment.

It was enough.

When he'd asked her to stay the night with him, she'd agreed. The two of them had then gone up the stairs, arms twined around each
other, and spent the rest of the day and night in bed together.

 

Althea released a long breath and finished undressing, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Running a hand down her body, over her breasts, she remembered the feel of Nate's big hands caressing her last night, the feel of the slightly callused skin as he ran them over each of her breasts.

She released one of her breasts,
her hand trailing down her stomach before stopping at the juncture of her thighs. Brushing a hesitant hand over the soft curls, she swallowed against the sensation, the memories of what Nate had done to her the previous night playing over and over in her mind.

“Is that your normal MO, Althea…running?”

Seconds before he spoke, Althea had felt a prickling heat warm her skin, the same one she got
every time he was near. With a start, her eyes flew open.

A glance at the door and her eyes widened before she stumbled, a hand reaching out to steady herself against the marble countertop.

Nate stood in the doorway, clad in only his boxers, arms crossed over his wide chest, a deep frown marring his perfect face.

“I…I didn't, wasn't running,” she said, embarrassment
at being caught touching
herself making her so her nervous her mouth felt like cotton.

He nodded a head toward the shower. “You'd better get in the shower before it gets cold. My brothers will be up soon. Sometimes it takes a while for the water to reheat.”

His eyes ran over her, again making her skin heat.

Instead of leaving the room as any decent man would, he kicked the door closed behind him and advanced into the
room.

Althea took several steps back until her back bumped against the glass shower door.

“What are you doing?” she asked, although the question was silly even to her own ears.

It was obvious what he was doing.

Keeping his eyes on hers, one side of his wide, sensual mouth turned up, he pulled down his boxers, kicking them away from his legs as he walked closer.

She inhaled a quick breath
when his cock emerged, thick, hard, thumping against the hard ridge of his tightly muscled abdomen.

Without a word he opened the shower door and turned to her. He held out his hand and waited.

She stared down at his hand and up at him.

It seemed to be a recurring theme of theirs, she thought, finding unexpected humor in the situation.

Althea couldn't read the look in his unfathomable eyes,
but the intensity…the intensity of his stare reached out and grabbed her. Made her want to take his hand and let him lead them wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted… She shut her eyes, briefly and swallowed.

Did she even have a choice? she thought before taking his hand.

He drew her into the shower and closed the door, the moist, sultry warmth immediately surrounding them. She watched with
heavy-lidded eyes as he reached for the bath sponge, squeezed a healthy portion of the scented liquid soap into it, brought the sponge up to her neck and smoothed it on her overheated skin.

She closed her eyes and moaned.

“Does that feel good, Althea?” he asked, his voice a rumble, pouring over her just as the warm cascade of water sluiced over her warm skin.

She moved her head to the side,
allowing him to run the soft sponge down her throat, and answered, her voice a thready whisper, “Yes.”

“Good,” he said, turning her so that her back was flush against his chest. “I only want to make you feel good. Do you believe me, Althea?”

She wanted to believe him, everything he was saying, everything he was implying.

Wanted to believe that this incredible man wanted her, needed her…would
protect her. And love her.

She wanted it so badly she battled against the emotion pounding into her as he was stroking inside her.

She felt the strength of her need for him in every fiber of her body, in every part of her mind, body…soul.

She couldn't fight the tears that burned the back of her eyes as he stroked her, her body going up in flames.

Tears due to the realization that no matter
how much she cared for him, and as much as she wanted to tell him everything, to unload her burden onto his wide shoulders and give him everything that had been
weighing down on her for so long, to trust in someone other than herself…in the end she couldn't endanger him or his family to Reggie.

He meant too much for her to do that.

She was in love with him.

The depths of her feelings caught
her unaware, hitting her hard. She bit down on her bottom lip to stop the words from tumbling past her mouth until she felt the metallic, coppery taste of blood inside her mouth.

Althea leaned her body back against his chest.

He raised her and lifted her so that her bottom bumped against his groin.

She whimpered, the sound barely audible, when she felt his big hand trail around to her mound
and brush back and forth over the curls that guarded her entry.

Held her breath when she felt him separate her. Bit the bottom of her lip as two of his fingers toyed with her clitoris, rubbing it slowly back and forth before a finger invaded deep inside her body.

“Nate…” she whispered and cried out when his finger plunged in and out of her while his thumb continued its sensual assault against
her clitoris.

“Will you let me make you feel good, baby?” The question was asked in a guttural whisper against her neck.

“Yes….”

She cried out in denial when he withdrew his finger, only to arch her body sharply when he angled her and slowly entered her, feeding her his shaft in a hot, short thrust.

“Nate!” she cried when he withdrew and plunged deep, so deep inside she felt his sac tap against
her
bottom. Again he dragged himself out of her, only to plunge deeply back inside her clenching heat, her mewling cries mingling with the sound of the water raining down on her. She frantically clutched at his hands on her waist, her body still sensitive from last night's lovemaking.

He grasped her hands and placed them on the shower wall. “Keep your hands there,” he instructed, licking the
underside of her ear, tugging the lobe in his mouth and biting down.

Not hard enough to hurt, but enough that she felt the stinging caress to the core of her femininity.

Oh God, she wanted to believe him, Althea thought, panting as he began to slowly pump inside her body, his strokes slow, measured. Wanted to believe he cared a fraction for her, what she felt for him.

“Do you believe me, Althea?”
he asked, even as his depth of stroke had her crying out, her head thrown back, accepting his wild loving. She couldn't say anything. She could only accept the here and now, what he was doing to her, the way he was making her feel. She knew she'd remember it for the rest of her life.

As he made love to her, tears of love and need mingled with the shower water streaming down her face.

When Althea
didn't respond, Nate bit back a growl of frustration. His hands tightened on the soft skin of her waist as he stroked inside her, pouring all of his frustration, his need for her to give in to him, to believe that whatever demons hunted her were his demons to battle as well.

He didn't know what to say, what to do, to break
down the wall she refused to let down. A wall he was determined to get
beyond.

The only thing he knew was that she was his. And if she would only allow him this, he was going to give her everything he had. Eventually he'd break her down, make her admit she cared for him, let him in.

Bending down he covered her completely, his chest sliding against the wet smoothness of her back, his mouth hovering against the nape of her neck. He closed his eyes, running his nose
against her skin, inhaling her unique, intoxicating scent as he stroked deep inside her.

“Let me in, damn it,” he growled, deep in his throat, his need feral.

The demand came out of nowhere. But the feel of her clenching down on him, the way she welcomed him inside her femininity was turning him upside down, making him crazy.

“Nathan…” she whimpered even as she ground her sweet bottom against
his invasion. Even the sound of her voice was making his mind and body go supernova.

“Baby, you are in…what do you…” She stopped, her breath coming out in gasps as his strokes increased. “What do you want?” she screamed out the last words when he angled her on his shaft. “I'm…I'm afraid.” The admission was torn from her, calming him enough that he eased his strokes, his hands losing the tight
grip they had on her waist.

“Don't be. Never that, Althea, please, baby…”

One hand left her waist and cupped a breast, thumbing the tightening nipple, while the other trailed around her
waist, down her thigh to caress her, before moving back up, seeking her sweet, hot nub.

He found what he was looking for. He stroked the tiny bud hidden deep in time to his thrusts.

Her whimpering cries grew
louder, bouncing off the shower walls, echoing throughout the bathroom. When he positioned both hands back on her waist and lifted her higher on his shaft, he drove down in one well-orchestrated move and she broke.

“Yes, yes…oh God, Nate, yes, yes, yesss….” Her cries ended on a harsh wail when he brought her face around enough so that he covered her mouth with his, pummeling into her sweet core
in short, staccato thrusts.

Deftly he flipped her around to face him fully, losing connection briefly before tunneling back inside her warmth. She stared up at him, her mouth partially opened, the ends of her nostrils flaring and water spiking her long lashes as water streamed over her.

Cupping her bottom, he brought her flush against him, readjusted their bodies and slanted his mouth over hers,
pulling her luscious full lips into his before allowing them to plop out.

He licked and sucked her mouth, his tongue darting between the seam of her lips, just as his shaft sliced between the seam of her creamy opening.