His Convenient Virgin Bride

by Barbara Dunlop

  He gave a guttural groan, enveloping her again, taking over the rhythm, bending her backward and thrusting his tongue deep into her mouth while one hand slid up her rib cage, surrounding her breast.

  She kissed him fervently, fists tightening, toes curling, as she struggled to get closer and closer.

  Then suddenly, she was lifted from the floor, scooped into his arms. The kisses continued and sensations built as he carried her up the stairs to her bedroom. There, he set her down, and his fingers swiftly scrambled with the buttons on her blouse.

  Yes. Skin to skin. They absolutely needed to be skin to skin. She fumbled with the knot in his tie, making little progress. She switched to the buttons on his white shirt.

  He chuckled deep in his chest as he swooped off her blouse, removing her bra in one deft motion. “I win,” he breathed in triumph.

  Then he helped her out, and tore open his shirt, discarding it on the floor.

  She sighed in sublime satisfaction as his hot body came up against hers. Her breasts and belly tingled, and her skin flushed with pleasure.

  He lifted her once more, sinking onto the bed full-length. His hand found her bare breast, strumming the nipple to exquisite arousal. His kisses roamed from her mouth to her neck to her shoulder, and finally to the hard beads of her sensitized nipples. She was restless, itchy, and her hands felt empty, but she didn’t know what to do with them.

  She buried them in his short hair, convulsively tightening her fingertips against her scalp. Her thighs twitched apart, and he settled between them. A burst of desire rocketed through her belly. She reached for the waistband of his slacks, certain they needed less clothing between them and more heated skin.

  He helped her out again, rising to strip off the rest of their clothes. He paused then, his gaze sweeping hotly over every single inch of her nakedness.

  She loved the way he was looking at her, as if he liked what he saw. She loved that she was naked, loved that she could stare right back at his glorious, hot, sculpted body.

  He slowly lowered himself against her, one palm running from her knee to her breasts, then back again. He gently eased her legs apart, watching her expression. Then he kissed her eyelids, took her mouth once more in a deep, lingering, passionate kiss.

  His touch became firm, his movements more hurried, and when he tore open a condom, she experienced a moment of fear. But then he was back, and his kisses were magic, and her body took over, spreading and arching and welcoming him.

  She expected a pain, but it was minor and fleeting, and the building sparks of desire quickly filled her mind. He adjusted her body, and the sensations intensified. She dragged in labored breaths, hands convulsing against his back, toes curled and hips arching to meet him with every stroke.

  They rode a wave that stretched on and on, until his body tensed. His rhythm increased. He cried out her name, while lights and sound exploded in her mind, making her weightless, suspended in time, before she pulsed back to earth and felt the weight of Alec on top of her.

  His breathing slowed, and he kissed her temple, her ear, her neck.

  Then he dragged in a labored gasp. “Stephanie Ryder, you blow my mind.”

  She struggled to catch her own breath. “If I could talk,” she panted. “I’d tell you exactly the same thing.”

  He chuckled deep, rolling over to put her on top.

  Her limbs felt like jelly. But now that it was over, a soreness crept in between her legs. She shifted to ease it.

  “Careful,” he warned, reaching his hand between them. He eased out of her body.

  But then he frowned, lifting his fingers to peer at them in the bright moonlight. “What the hell?”

  He whirled his head, pasting her with an accusing look. “You’re a virgin?”

  “Not anymore.”

  He recoiled in what looked like horror. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “Why would I?” It was her problem, not his. Besides, it wasn’t like she was saving herself for some mythical future marriage.

  “Because…” he sputtered. “Because…”

  “Would you have done something different?” Personally she wouldn’t have changed a thing. Virginity wasn’t a big deal in this day and age.

  “I wouldn’t have done anything at all.”

  “Liar,” she accused. Half an hour ago, neither of them had been thinking past sex. “Did you tell the first woman you slept with that she was the first?”

  He frowned in the starlight. “That’s completely diff—”

  “Ha! Double standard.”

  He raked a hand through his mussed hair. “I can’t believe we’re having this argument.”

  “Neither can I.”

  “You’ll argue about anything, won’t you?”

  “Takes two to tango, Alec.”

  He curled an arm around her shoulders and pulled her tight. “You are impossible.”

  “And you’re inflexible.”

  “You really should have said something.” But his voice was starting to fade as a pleasant lethargy took over her body.

  “I didn’t,” she muttered. “Get over it.”

  His voice dropped to a whisper next to her ear. “I doubt I’ll be doing that for a very, very long time.”

  Her eyes fluttered closed, and her body relaxed into sleep.

  Then, after what seemed like only seconds, there was a loud knock on her bedroom door. She blinked, and the bright sunlight stung her eyes.

  “Stephanie?” Royce’s voice demanded.

  Alec was on his feet, clothes in hand, and through the connecting door to the bathroom in a split second.

  “Hang on,” she shakily called to her brother.

  “Something wrong?”

  “Why?” She blinked again, struggling to adjust her eyes.

  “It’s after nine.”

  She sat straight up and glanced around, grabbing her discarded clothes and stuffing them under the covers just in case Royce barged in. “I overslept.”

  “Have you seen Alec?”

  “Uh, not since last night.” Technically, it was true, since she’d had her eyes closed for the past few hours.

  “He’s not in his room.”

  The water came on in the bathroom.

  “I hear the shower,” she called to her brother. “Meet you downstairs?”

  There was a pause. “Sure.”

  Stephanie flopped back down on her pillow, blowing out a sigh of relief. Not that her sex life was any of her brother’s business. But, wow. She’d hate to have to listen to the shouting.

  Four

  As Alec approached the kitchen, he heard both Royce’s and Jared’s voices. He adjusted his collar, straightened his cuffs and shoved his guilt as far to the back of his mind as humanly possible.

  Then he cringed as he passed the messy dining room table. They all would have seen it on their way to the kitchen, and it was completely unprofessional to leave his work scattered like that.

  “We’re all heading out there in an hour,” Jared was saying.

  “Good morning,” Alec put into the pause, glancing at the faces around the breakfast bar, first at Jared and Royce, then Melissa and Amber, checking for anger or suspicion.

  Nothing he could detect, so he allowed himself a quick glance at Stephanie.

  Damn it. She looked like she’d made love all night long. And her gaze on him was intense.

  When Amber turned toward her, Alec quickly cleared his throat, moving toward the coffeepot, hoping to keep everyone’s attention from Stephanie. The woman had no poker face whatsoever.

  “Heading where?” he asked Jared as he poured.

  “The airport. We can give you a lift.”

  Alec didn’t dare look, but he could feel Stephanie’s shock. It wasn’t perfect timing, but he couldn’t very well refuse the offer after telling Jared he was leaving today. There was work to do in Chicago, and there was also Norman Stanton to deal with.

  Besides, what was he going to do if he stayed? Make love
to Stephanie again? If they were alone in the same house, odds were good it would happen. His professional ethics were already teetering on the edge of oblivion.

  “Thanks,” he forced himself to tell Jared. Then he turned, casually taking a sip from the stoneware mug. “Stephanie? I’ve got a couple more questions before I pack things up.” He nodded toward the dining room, hoping she’d get the hint. It might be their one chance to say goodbye alone.

  Standing at the opposite side of the breakfast bar, she was blinking at him like a deer in the headlights.

  This time Amber did catch Stephanie’s expression, and she frowned.

  “Stephanie?” he repeated. If she didn’t snap out of it, they were going to have one hell of a lot of explaining to do.

  “What?” She gave her head a little shake.

  “In the dining room? I had a couple of questions.”

  “Oh. Right.” Now she was looking annoyed with him. That was much better.

  She followed him out, but Amber came on her heels, followed by Royce and the rest of the family. Alec was stuck with asking Stephanie some inane business questions, to which he already had answers, as he packed the papers away in his briefcase.

  In no time, they were heading out the door to Jared’s SUV. Alec hung back, but he only managed the briefest of goodbyes and apologies to Stephanie before he had to leave.

  Stephanie spent the next few weeks training hard with Rosie-Jo for the Brighton competition. At first, she’d been angry with Alec for his abrupt departure. Then she’d been grateful. After all, there was no sense in prolonging it.

  They’d had a one-night stand, no big deal. She couldn’t have asked for a better lover. And, though it was short, it had been wonderful, physically, at least.

  But then the gratitude wore off, and she felt inexplicably sad and lonely. She found herself remembering details about him—the sound of his laugh, how his gray eyes twinkled when he teased her, his confident stride, his gentle touch, the heat of his lips and the taste of his skin.

  She knew she was pining away for something that couldn’t be, for something that had never existed in the first place, except in her own imagination.

  She didn’t think she felt guilty about making love to him. But maybe she did. Maybe that was why she was pretending their relationship was something more than a fling.

  Cold fact was, she’d given her virginity to a man she didn’t love, a man who was little more than a stranger.

  It was the end of another long training day. She stabled Rosie-Jo and double-checked the feeding schedule. Leading up to Brighton, everything about Rosie’s regime had to be perfect, as did Stephanie’s.

  She pressed her hands against the small of her back, arching as she sighed. Her period was a few days late, and she was getting frustrated with the wait. It was only a small difference, but competing at the most favorable hormonal point in her cycle could be the edge she needed to win. If she didn’t get it by the weekend, she could be jumping with PMS.

  She pulled her ponytail loose, finger-combed her hair and refastened the rubber band as she made her way to the barn door. She was exhausted, almost dizzy with fatigue today. And she was famished.

  She took that as a good sign. It wasn’t uncommon for her to polish off a pint of ice cream and a bag of potato chips the day before her period started. Not that she’d indulge in either this close to a competition. She’d have some grilled chicken and a big salad instead.

  The thought of the food had her picking up her pace across the yard. But by the time she got to the front porch, she’d changed her mind. Chicken didn’t really appeal to her. Maybe she’d do a steak instead.

  Then she opened the door and caught the aroma of one of her housekeeper Rosalind’s stews. She gripped the door frame for a split second. Okay, definitely not stew. She’d sit out on the back veranda and grill that steak.

  The next morning, Stephanie blinked open her eyes, surprised to find it was nine-fifteen. The training schedule was obviously wearing her out. Fair enough. Her body was telling her something. She’d make sure she incorporated an extra hour sleep in her routine for the next two weeks.

  She sat up quickly, and a wave of nausea had her dropping right back down on the pillow.

  Damn it. She could not get sick.

  Not now.

  She absolutely refused to let a flu bug ruin the competition.

  She gritted her teeth, sitting up more slowly. There. That was better. Wasn’t it?

  She gripped the brass post of her bed, willing her stomach to calm down.

  It wasn’t fair. First her period screwup, and now this. She needed to do well at Brighton. She’d trained her entire life for this year of all years. But it was as if the stars were lining up against her.

  She started for the en suite, telling herself it was mind over matter. She was young and healthy. And she had a strong immune system. She was confident she’d quickly fight off whatever it was she’d picked up.

  She stopped in front of the sink, pushing her messy hair back from her face, groping for her toothbrush and unscrewing the toothpaste cap.

  She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her face was pale. Her eyes looked too big today, and the smell of the toothpaste had her rushing to retch into the toilet.

  There was little in her stomach, but she immediately felt better. What the heck was wrong—

  She froze.

  “No.” The hoarse exclamation was torn from her.

  Her hand tightened on the counter edge and she shook her head in denial. She could not be pregnant.

  They’d only done it once. And they’d used a condom.

  Okay. She breathed. She had to calm down. She was only scaring herself. How many crazy thoughts had popped into her head since Alec left? This was simply one more in the series.

  She drew another deep breath. The nausea had subsided.

  It had to be psychosomatic. Her period would start today, maybe tomorrow. Her hormones would get back on track. She’d stick to her training regime, and she’d kick butt in Brighton.

  Anything else was unthinkable.

  On morning four of the nausea and exhaustion, Stephanie dragged her feet to the bathroom, staring with dread at the home pregnancy test she’d picked up the afternoon before. Even before she followed the directions, she knew what the answer would show.

  Sure enough, the two blue stripes were vivid in the center of the viewing window. She was pregnant.

  She plunked the plastic stick in the trash bin and moved woodenly to the shower.

  As the warm water cascaded over her body, she let a tear escape from her eye. Then another, and another. What oh what had she done? This was her year, first the nationals, then the European championships and finally tryouts for the Olympic team.

  The moment she’d trained for, longed for, prayed for her entire life was upon her, and she was going to have a baby instead, without a father. Her brothers would be furious on both counts. They’d be so disappointed in her.

  Her mind searched hopelessly for a way to keep it secret.

  Maybe she could fake an injury and take herself out of competition. Then she would find an excuse to stay in Europe for six months. And, then…And, then…

  She whacked the end of her fist against the shower wall in frustration.

  What would she do? Come back to Montana with a baby in tow? Tell them she adopted some poor orphan in Romania?

  It was a stupid plan.

  Defeated, she slowly slid her way down the wall, water drizzling over her as she came to rest on the bottom of the tub. She wrapped her arms around her knees, staring blankly into space as the water turned from hot to tepid.

  “Stephanie?” Amber’s voice surprised her. It was followed by a rap on the bathroom door.

  “Just a sec,” Stephanie called out, rising to her feet, swiftly spinning off the now-cold water.

  “You okay?” Amber asked.

  “Fine.” Stephanie flipped back the curtain and grabbed a towel, scrubbing it o
ver her puffy cheeks and burning eyes.

  What was Amber doing in Montana?

  “You’ve been in there forever,” Amber called.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Royce got restless in Chicago. It was either this or fly to Dubai for the weekend. You want to come down to the main house for a while?”

  Stephanie pressed her fingertips into her temples. The last thing in the world she needed was one of her brothers hanging around. She needed to be alone right now.

  “I have to train,” she called through the door.

  “You decent?” asked Amber.

  “I’m—”

  The door opened, and Stephanie quickly wrapped the big bath towel around her body.

  “Morning.” Amber grinned.

  “You never heard of privacy?”

  “We’re practically sisters.” Then Amber’s grin faded. She cocked her head, staring into Stephanie’s eyes. “What on earth?”

  Stephanie quickly turned away, coming face-to-face with her own reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were bloodshot. Her cheeks had high, bright pink spots, but the rest of her face was unnaturally pale.

  “I had a rough night,” she tried, but her voice caught on her raw throat.

  Amber’s arm was instantly around her shoulders. “What’s wrong? Did you get bad news? One of the horses?”

  “No.” Stephanie shook her head.

  Then Amber’s gaze caught on something. Her eyes went wide, and her jaw dropped open.

  Stephanie looked down to see the home pregnancy test box on the counter.

  “You can’t tell Royce,” she croaked.

  “You’re pregnant.”

  Stephanie couldn’t answer. She closed her eyes to block out the terrible truth.

  “Is it Wesley?”

  Stephanie quickly shook her head. “Who—”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  There was a silent pause, then Amber touched her shoulder. “Alec.”

  Stephanie’s eyes flew open. “You can’t tell Royce.”

  “Oh, sweetheart.” Amber pulled Stephanie into her arms. “It’s going to be okay. I promise you, it’s going to be okay.”