by Diana Palmer
He lifted his hand and touched her cheek. “You look beautiful, Meredith,” he said quietly. “Absolutely beautiful.”
She flushed and averted her eyes. “Thanks,” she said softly.
He laughed softly. “All right, I’ll stop staring. Let’s go, honey.”
Her heart jumped half a foot at the gentle endearment. He took her hand into his big one and held it tightly as they walked out the front door to where his red Jaguar was parked.
“It’s gorgeous!” she enthused.
He smiled as he helped her into the car. “I don’t like sports cars as a rule, but this one is exceptional.”
He got in behind the wheel, fastened his seat belt, made sure hers was fastened and pushed the button that cranked the car.
“No car key?” she asked, shocked.
“It’s a smart key.” He pulled the fob out of his pocket and showed it to her. “All electronic. It just has to be somewhere in the car, or in your pocket, to work. There’s no real key that goes in the ignition. Put on the brakes, push the start button and go.”
“I’ve never ridden in a Jag,” she confessed, fascinated with the wood on the panel and the console. “So many controls! It’s like the cockpit of a jet!”
He chuckled. “When we hit the highway, you’ll think you’re in one.”
He pulled up to the gate, used his electronic device to open it, drove the car through and closed the gate behind them. Beside the gate, a camera was at work displaying his image to the computer tech in the bunkhouse.
“Here we go,” Ren said, putting the car in gear.
It shot forward on the deserted highway, growling like the jungle beast for which it was named.
“Gosh!” Merrie felt her stomach drop at the speed. “It’s fast!”
“Fast, elegant and very safe. Jags are individual. They have quirks. Sometimes they purr, sometimes they roar. Sometimes they just want off the leash.” He pushed down on the gas.
“Can we go back for my stomach?” she asked with a grin.
“Leave it there. We’ll get it on the way home.”
She just laughed.
* * *
THE HOUSE WAS ELEGANT for a rural area. It was huge, and it looked as though every light inside had been turned on. There was valet parking at the front door of the brick mansion with its flat facade and high roof.
“All that expense to build it, and no front porch.” She sighed. “It’s just sad.”
“Some people don’t like porch swings.”
She looked up at him and laughed. “I guess not.”
“You do,” he teased.
She nodded. “We have a swing and all sorts of furniture that moves. Sari and I could never sit still, so Mandy made sure we had movable things to sit on.” She bit her lower lip, staring at the door. “Will there be a lot of people?” she asked worriedly.
He slid his hand into hers and curled it close. “Don’t worry about the people,” he said softly. “I’ll keep you safe.”
She tingled all over. Her heart jumped up into her throat at the way he was looking at her. She felt as if she might melt right there at his feet.
He saw that emotion in her. He felt it in himself. He held her hand tighter and led her into the house.
“This is Durward,” he said, introducing her to a tall, heavyset man with snow-white curly hair and light blue eyes. “Durward, our houseguest, Meredith Grayling.”
“Nice to meet you! Knew some Graylings once. Nice woman. Not impressed with her husband, though. There’s Angie! Come here, honey, and say hello to Ren. Be nice,” he added in a loud whisper.
The woman was brunette, absolutely gorgeous, with lips so red they seemed stained, and a face that could have graced fashion magazines. Her complexion was flawless, her blue eyes vivid and pretty. The one thing that ruined the picture was the smirk on her face when she came up to Ren, who stiffened visibly.
“Well, hi, Ren,” she said in a soft purr. “Found somebody to replace me, huh?” She laughed. “She won’t last long. You’re no dream lover,” she added.
Ren stiffened. His face was like stone.
Merrie curled her fingers closer into his and looked evenly at the other woman. “It’s very sad.”
“What is?” she asked haughtily.
“That you have so little self-esteem that you have to pull other people down to build yourself up.”
Angie sucked in her breath. “I’ll have you know that I’m a model! I can have any man I want!”
“Except Ren,” Merrie said with a cool smile. She moved closer to him and looked up at him adoringly.
He smiled at her.
Angie turned on her heel and glared at her uncle. “I’m going home! Have Billy drive me to the airport right now!”
“Of course, honey,” her uncle, flustered, agreed.
“You little...!” she began, glaring at Merrie.
“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me,” Merrie interrupted, purring in a singsong voice.
Angie made an exasperated sound and stomped out of the room.
Ren put his arm around Merrie and pulled her close.
Durward sighed. “Never could understand her. She’s so like her mother. Strange.” He glanced at Meredith and smiled. “You handle yourself pretty good.”
“Thanks.” She moved closer to Ren, who was brimming with pride.
“Go have fun,” Durward said. “Don’t let my rude niece spoil things for you. There’s a live band. Playing music from the forties. You’ll fit right in, Miss Grayling. Gorgeous dress.”
She laughed. “Thank you.”
Durward turned away from them to greet a couple behind Merrie and Ren, and Ren led her into the next room.
“Full of surprises, aren’t you?” he teased as he led her onto the dance floor.
“I’m not easily intimidated,” she returned. She was nervous. “Ren, I’m not sure about this.”
“It’s easy. If I can do it, it’s easy,” he emphasized. He slid his arm around her, cradled her right hand in his and began to move. “Just follow my lead. No, don’t look down. Look at me, Meredith.”
She lifted her eyes to his and felt swallowed whole. As if the two of them were connected, in some strange way. As if they belonged together. She’d never experienced anything like it in her life.
Ren felt something similar. He’d been apprehensive about coming to the party. He knew if he didn’t come, Angie would say he was afraid. No, he was just uncomfortable. They’d been very close, but it had all been an act on her part. He couldn’t have known how vindictive she’d be when he had discovered she’d cheated on him and broke up with her. The Facebook fiasco had been very painful. No man liked having a woman ridicule his lovemaking skills. Ren had been embarrassed and angry. But the pretty little rose in his arms had defended him like a lioness. He wasn’t used to having a woman protect him. He shouldn’t like it so much. But he did.
“That’s it,” he said at Merrie’s ear. “Slow and easy, honey.”
It sounded as if he was talking about something more than just dancing, and Merrie felt an unfamiliar swelling in her body. She tingled all over. Her breath was catching in her throat as he drew her even closer and she felt the press of his muscular body so close to hers.
She’d never been held like this. She’d never known it would feel so... She wasn’t sure what she was feeling, but certainly it was arousing. That had to be what the odd swelling was, the frantic beating of her heart, the breathing that sounded like someone was running a race.
She peered up at Ren, only to have her eyes captured yet again, held in an intimacy that she’d never known. It took them a minute to realize that the music had stopped and they were about to be alone on the dance floor.
Ren cleared h
is throat, took her hand and led her to the buffet table.
“Some food and drink might make this easier,” he said in a deep, rough tone.
“Yes,” she agreed, still vibrating.
“Want punch?” he asked.
“Please.”
He ladled some into a crystal cup and handed it to her. But her hand was trembling. He had to steady it with both his own hands.
“It’s all right,” he said softly. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
But there was. She looked at him and knew, for the first time, that he was what she’d been waiting for all her life.
She was falling in love.
* * *
REN DANCED WITH no one else. It seemed to get easier, the more Merrie did it. She felt more confident as the evening progressed. They moved together as one. The contact was very stimulating, and she couldn’t hide the effect it had on her.
She was breathing raggedly as they wound around the dance floor to a slow, lazy rhythm. Ren’s hand on her waist moved up a little. She caught it instinctively. The dress was thin and her scars were noticeable, even to touch.
“Sorry,” he said gruffly, and moved his hand back down to her waist.
“No, I’m sorry.” She bit her lower lip. “There are things you don’t know about me,” she said miserably.
About her affair with his brother, he was thinking. She didn’t like him to touch her in any really intimate way. But she was breathing like a runner. Her heartbeat was almost audible. She was all but trembling in his embrace. Those weren’t signs of revulsion.
Almost experimentally, he drew her very close from the hips down. His body had an immediate, almost embarrassing reaction to the closeness, and he felt her stiffen and try to move back.
He lifted his head and looked down at her, but he held her firmly. His eyes were soft with sensual wisdom. “I won’t rush you,” he promised.
She swallowed. She was very embarrassed. She pushed gently at his chest. “Please?” she asked in a high-pitched, agitated tone. The feel of him like that made her aware of her body in a way she never had been before. She was afraid of how she felt.
He saw her flushed face and took pity on her. He let her put some space between them. She was genuinely unsettled. What an odd woman, he thought. Nothing about her added up. Just when he thought he knew her, she threw him a curve.
He gave her a curious appraisal. “I don’t know what to make of you, Meredith,” he said honestly.
“I’m just an ordinary woman,” she said, relieved that he hadn’t insisted.
“No. You’re definitely not ordinary.” He pulled her gently closer and laid his head against hers as they moved to the lazy rhythm. “Not ordinary at all.”
She felt her heart trying to jump into her throat. She was so aware of him now, so hungry for something more than his arms around her. But that way lay disaster. She knew what men expected of women. She’d seen risqué movies at home. But she couldn’t let Ren see her back. He’d be revolted. She knew what it looked like. She’d seen it in the mirror. No man would want to touch a woman with scars like hers.
So she steeled herself to be less responsive in his arms, to dance without letting him affect her. She was almost successful by the time the party ended and they climbed back into the Jaguar to head home.
* * *
SNOW WAS FALLING SOFTLY. It looked as if it might be deep soon. She grimaced. “The poor men,” she said absently.
“What do you mean?”
“They’ll have to go out before dawn, in all this snow, to look at the cattle and make sure they have food and water and shelter.”
He smiled to himself. He liked it, that she cared about his ranch hands. She cared for him, too, but she was trying to pull away from him. He wondered why.
He parked the car at the front steps of the house and unlocked the door, letting her go in first.
“Feel like a nightcap?” he asked idly.
“A nightcap?”
He turned. She looked up at him with pale gray eyes that held a soft light.
“A nightcap,” he repeated, smiling. “Brandy, to be specific. I rarely drink hard liquor.” He didn’t add that he had, the day he’d pulled off his belt and snapped it, and Meredith had run into the kitchen to hide behind Delsey. He wasn’t a cruel man, and he’d never have hit her. But her fear of him still hurt. It hurt badly.
“I’ve never tasted brandy,” she confessed. She sighed. “I’ve never even had a beer.”
“There’s a first time for everything,” he said, and his deep voice was like velvet.
He went to the liquor cabinet and pulled out two snifters and a square, squat little bottle of amber liquid. He poured just a little into the large rounded glasses and held one out to Meredith.
“You hold the bowl in the palm of your hands. It warms the brandy.”
“Oh.” She balanced the cold crystal in her hands, which were cold with nervousness. “I guess it’s a learning curve,” she said mischievously.
“Most of life is,” he agreed.
She lifted the glass to her lips slowly and let the liquid touch them. She made a face as she looked up at Ren.
“Give it a chance,” he advised with a chuckle.
She forced herself to take a sip. It burned like fire going down. She gasped, almost choking on it.
He couldn’t help laughing. “Innocent little lamb,” he teased. “I’m leading you astray.”
“You really are,” she agreed.
“Try it again,” he coaxed.
She was reluctant. But she did. This time, the liquid didn’t sting as much, and it warmed her whole body as it went down. She smiled. “Okay,” she said. “It’s not bad.”
He lifted his glass to hers and tapped them together. “Cheers.”
“Now you sound British,” she said with a laugh.
“I served with a couple of SAS boys in Iraq.”
“SAS?”
“Special Air Services,” he replied. “They’re like our Green Berets or Army Rangers. Or the French Foreign Legion. They have a reputation for excellence, and they’re famous for the ‘Fan Dance,’ their rigorous training course.”
She smiled at him. “You look hazy,” she remarked.
“Is the brandy going to your head, Meredith?” he asked softly.
She put it down. “I’m not sure. I feel very relaxed.”
He put his own snifter down and moved closer. “Relaxed is good,” he whispered, bending his head. “It makes this easier.”
His lips brushed over hers, parting them slowly, tracing them in a silence that breathed tension. His hands smoothed up her rib cage, and she caught her breath at the sensations he kindled in her untried body.
She shivered. He liked that response. His lips brushed hers, lightly, again and again, teasing and tempting, while his hands smoothed ever closer to the high, firm rise of her breasts. But he didn’t touch them, or even try to. He taunted.
She wanted...more. But she wasn’t sure what. Her breath was so ragged that she knew he must hear it, and her legs felt wobbly.
She laughed unsteadily. “I think my legs are going to buckle,” she whispered against his mouth.
“That, I can take care of.” He bent and lifted her into his arms, carrying her to the big burgundy sofa. He was smiling as his head moved down and she felt the warm, slow press of his mouth against hers.
She closed her eyes as he laid her down and slid alongside her. His chest arched over hers, brushed against her taut breasts while he kissed her with slow, tender intent.
She really should protest what he was doing. One lean hand was teasing just around the edge of her breast. She wanted him to stop. She didn’t want him to stop. She wanted him to move his hand over, just a couple of inches, to the ta
ut peak that ached to be touched.
Involuntarily, her body arched toward his searching fingers, and she moaned helplessly.
“Is this what you want?” he whispered.
As he spoke, his hand moved tenderly over her small breast and his fingers found the hard tip and caressed it. She gasped and shivered. She’d never realized that physical sensation could have such an explosive effect on her brain. She stopped thinking altogether.
He felt her resistance lessen, and he laughed softly as he bent to her mouth again. No more pretense, he was thinking. She was his if he wanted her. And he wanted her. Madly.
He moved closer, one long leg moving sensually against hers while he felt for the fastening of her dress at her throat and started to undo it.
He was slow and expert as his fingers moved between the fabric and her skin, brushing, lifting, tempting. By the time he had it unfastened to her waist, she was eager for his hands to go under the fabric, onto the black bra she wore with a half slip under the dress.
“God, you’re sexy,” he breathed into her mouth as his fingers trespassed under the cup of the bra. “Sexy as hell!”
As he spoke, his hand moved under the fabric, onto the bare skin of her breast. She arched and cried out helplessly with the force of the pleasure.
CHAPTER NINE
MERRIE WAS LOST in Ren. She was so hungry for him that she didn’t protest the lean, warm, strong hand smoothing over the bare skin of her breast. When he searched for the front clasp of the bra and unfastened it, she only lay in his arms, waiting, waiting...
He opened the bra and exposed her beautiful, creamy breasts. They were firm and rounded, her nipples dark pink and erect with desire. He traced them gently, then lowered his head.
His teeth grasped one hard nipple. She gasped and pushed at his head and cried out in fear.
He lifted his head. She looked genuinely frightened. It was a good act, he thought. But he humored her. He wanted her, and she was willing. If she wanted to pretend that she was a virgin, maybe it was how she got off with a man.