The Price of Passion

by Stephanie Morris

  Even though he’d blocked off his emotions when it came to women, his heart had dropped when she nearly collapsed in his arms.

  Kaden slammed the bottle down on the counter.

  He cared about her. No, he didn’t love her. Didn’t feel that he was capable of that, but yeah, what she wanted mattered.

  She was breeching his protective wall.

  In less than a few hours, she’d put his physical willpower to the test, making him yearn for her. And she’d pushed him to the edge emotionally. She’d dug into his past, going into Jacob’s room against his wishes and asking questions about Leah.

  Then Sierra had the audacity to lock him out.

  She had moxie.

  He’d meant it when he said there would be no closed doors between them after they married. He was just as interested in her now as he had been that night. She stirred something deep inside him, and part of him realized it was more than wanting to be a full participant in his child’s life.

  Even though he refused to give his heart to a woman again, they would live together as a married couple—in every sense of the word.

  Their future would be anything but mundane. It was a good thing he didn’t care much for the mundane.

  Shoving his hormones—and emotions—out of the way, he took a couple of chicken breasts from the freeze to thaw, then he headed outside to complete his chores. He hadn’t had a chance to finish them since his detour from the pharmacy that morning. Finding out the truth from Sierra had been his number one priority and had made everything else an afterthought. Seemed she had a niche for doing that to him.

  The screen door banged shut behind him and Kaden knew he needed strenuous physical activity to relieve the ball of tension within him. Ranch work was better than nothing. Getting away from Sierra, and getting away from the scent of her drifting in the air wouldn’t hurt either.

  * * * *

  Sierra was too anxious to lay down and rest and she couldn’t stay closed away in her room all evening, even though everything in her insisted she do just that. Where had that inclination for self-conservation been the night of Andy and Hillary’s party? If it had been stronger, she wouldn’t have given in to Kaden.

  But then again, she wouldn’t have a baby growing inside her, the one she’d craved, prayed for.

  She only wished there was a way to have the baby without being tied down to Kaden.

  Sounds of him moving around floated up the stairs, along with the aroma of something grilling. Her stomach rumbled. It had been hours since she’d eaten. Even if she wanted nothing more than to avoid Kaden, she needed to keep her strength up.

  Knowing she was defeated, she smoothed back her hair. The curly tresses had always been the bane of her existence. With the pregnancy hormones surging through her, her hair seemed even more unruly. Once it was as neat as she could get it without a brush, comb and mirror, she smoothed the wrinkles out of her shirt and pants, then realized she was beating around the bush.

  Decidedly, she made her way to the kitchen, another room she hadn’t been in on her previous visit.

  She’d forgotten just how handsome he was.

  When he smiled, his expressive brown eyes lit up with pleasure, pushing shadows from them and making them seem radiant. A small dimple in his cheek tempted her to place a kiss on it.

  He’d cleaned up since he’d been outside, and a new T-shirt was tucked in dark denim jeans. He smelled clean and fresh, and seemed so approachable.

  Warning bells went off in her head again. This was Kaden at his best. She knew there was a bad side.

  “How are you feeling?”

  His smooth voice drifted over her like a gentle breeze against her bare skin.

  When she didn’t respond, he strode over to her, placing his powerful hands on her. With him so close, she could hardly breathe. “I’m okay.”

  He placed the palm of one hand to her forehead.

  “Honest,” she said.

  His fingers softly grazed her cheek. “You look a little pale.”

  “Because you didn’t give me an opportunity to grab my makeup before you did the macho man routine and dragged me out of here.”

  “You must be feeling better,” he joked.

  She was weakening. His voice, his touch...

  Instead of lowering his hand, he placed his thumb at the corner of her mouth. She fought the urge to rest her face in his palm and allow him to cradle her head.

  If she wasn’t cautious, she could easily forget that he wasn’t different than any other man, that he decided what it was she was supposed to do and gave her very little say in the matter.

  She’d given into him and his passionate approach once before. She couldn’t give in a second time. Sierra only wished that her perseverance alone would return her heart rate back to normal.

  Reaching out, she grabbed his wrist, trying to pull him away, but the effort backfired.

  With her hand still surrounding his wrist, he skimmed a finger downward, over her chin, the column of her neck and the small indention there. He paused just beneath, at the same place she struggled to breath.

  Sierra, desperate for air, told herself he wouldn’t touch her anymore intimately, that he wouldn’t travel further downward to cup her breast in his palm...like he had once before.

  She had hold of his hand, and she had the power to stop him at anytime. She would stop him, she told herself, validating her determination and strength. Still struggling to breathe, she peered up at him, her eyes looking for consolation within the depths of his.

  She found anything but consolation.

  “Tell me it didn’t matter to you.”

  Captivated by the shadows clouding his eyes, she could only swallow.

  “Tell me that it was just a one-night stand, that you never thought about us.”

  She was unable to put up a fight when he did exactly what she’d thought he might.

  Sierra felt the sensation of his callused fingers against her shirt, saw how his bronzed skin looked next to the pale color of the fabric, and she shivered at her own arousal.

  “Tell me that you never wondered how it might have turned out if you hadn’t run away. Tell me, Sierra.”

  “I can’t...” Can’t breathe, can’t talk, can’t think.

  “Ah, so you did think about it. Just like I did.”

  He’d thought about them?

  Did that mean he’d wondered about her, too—that to him it was more than just a one-night stand? She’d figured he wanted answers to the way she snuck out, but she’d told herself she meant nothing to him except for the fact that she was the mother of his child.

  “Tell me about that,” he prompted. “Tell me what you thought about.”

  His hand continued to move down the middle of her chest, his palm curving as he went. Her gaze was fixed on him and she was enthralled by his strength, the intensity of his will.

  When she still didn’t respond, he continued. “I thought about it. A lot. I stepped out of the shower that morning, ready for you, even though I was trying not to be.” His voice sounded raspy, as if he needed to clear his throat. “I shut off the hot water, Sierra, because I wanted to be able to restrain myself when I came back to bed.”

  She attempted to take a step back, only to have him tighten his grip on her.

  “It didn’t work. Even the feel of the towel on my skin reminded me of the way you reached for me, the way you wrapped your hand around me. Were you serious when you said you’d never done that to another man?”

  Closing her eyes, she prayed for the floor to break apart and engulf her whole. That night she’d done a lot of things she’d never done before.

  “Were you, Sierra?”

  “Yes,” she finally managed to answer.

  Kaden moved. Despite objections from her mind and body, she did nothing to stop him. She moaned when he cupped one of her breasts in his palm, testing its weight.

  Helpless to stop herself, she clung to him, not wanting to let go. The same feelings had s
wamped her that night she allowed Kaden to touch her just like this.

  It had been the longing to hold and be held that had terrified her the most.

  With his supportive words and seductive suggestions, Kaden had shown he was far more dangerous than Tim had ever been.

  “Your breast feels fuller than it did before,” Kaden stated, leaning forward to murmur the comment in her ear. “Does it to you?”

  He wouldn’t let her hide.

  “Does it, Sierra?”

  “Yes,” she cried out when he closed his hand.

  “And what about your nipples?”

  Sierra shuddered. She was engulfed in her own response.

  The tip of his finger flicked across her nipple. Need, consuming and powerful, overwhelmed her. Her knees buckled, and he was there, pulling her into his embrace to support her.

  She was grateful that she was still completely dressed. Otherwise she didn’t think she would be able to take any more. Part of her wanted to shove him away, make him end the torture. But the same traitorous part of her that had once welcomed his touch propelled her forward.

  He trailed his finger over the tender tip once again.

  “Our lovemaking meant something to you, Sierra, didn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is that why you snuck out?”

  He hadn’t stopped stroking her. She would have been furious with him if she could think straight, but he didn’t permit that.

  “Where you frightened?”

  With that question, he stopped his caress.

  Gradually, so very gradual, she opened her eyes and stared at him. She couldn’t find the ability to speak. It was unbelievably difficult to complete words. Finally, she confessed, “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  The admittance came slowly. “You made me feel things I’ve never felt before, convinced me to do things that I never thought possible. You terrified me.”

  “Was it me you were fearful of?” he questioned. “Or was it yourself?”

  “Both,” she mumbled.

  “You should have told me.”

  “Would you have listened?”

  “Listened? Of course.”

  “It wouldn’t have mattered to you that I was frightened, would it, Kaden?” She struggled to use her common sense, reminding herself of the emotions he’d evoked within her, remembering the reasons she’d snuck out in the first place. “You would have said we could work it out, work through it.”

  Slowly, he let her go, until they stood near each other, close but not touching

  Sierra hugged herself.

  “We could have,” he replied.

  She knew she had been smart to sneak out.

  “But you never allowed me the opportunity,” he continued.

  “Because you would have stolen mine.”

  He tunneled his fingers through his dark hair, loosening the leather tie that held it back, leaving him looking wild and untamed.

  “I couldn’t do that, Kaden.”

  “Doesn’t matter, because we’re together now.”

  Her stomach turned over.

  “Is that such a bad thing?” he asked. Quietly, he reached out to tuck a strand of hair out of her face.

  Even the softest of touches made her long for more. Why did she seem to lose all control when he was near? Even her ex-husband hadn’t elicited this sort of reaction from her, and at one point, she’d believed herself to be in love with him.

  “Is it?” Kaden inquired again, his eyes holding hers captive.

  “How would you feel if the shoe was on the other foot?” she responded.

  “It isn’t.”

  “That’s not what I’m getting at,” she complained.

  “If you were to drag me into your home and keep me there, saying we would live together as man and wife, I wouldn’t mind in the least.”

  “You’re twisting my words.”

  Tension diffused with his crooked grin. “Yep.”

  She frowned. Sierra had seen many sides of Kaden—furious, sensual, focused, powerful—but this smile, his teasing after being so serious and seductive, astonished her, making her realize she knew virtually nothing about him. And they were about to become husband and wife to raise a child together.

  The thought was discombobulating, like being on a speeding rollercoaster going up numerous hills and down stomach jolting drops.

  Kaden looked toward the door. “It smells like the chicken is ready. Are you hungry?”

  “Starved. Seems to be a constant feeling.”

  “Are you going to eat me out of house and home?”

  “You’re the one who insisted on bringing me here,” she retorted, then smiled.

  “And I don’t regret it. Chicken should be done.”

  If a herd of cattle came thundering through the house, he couldn’t have kept her more off balance.

  While he plated the chicken, Sierra found her way around the large kitchen, taking out silverware and glasses. She had little choice but to learn her way around his—their house.

  It was highly improbable that he’d be tolerant of the idea of her living at her own place after they said I do.

  Their bodies incidentally touched more than once, sending small shockwaves of pleasure flooding her. She didn’t want to be turned on by him, but most assuredly, she was.

  “Shall we toast out upcoming wedding with juice?” he asked once they were seated at the table. “I’d offer you champagne, but it’s not good for the baby.”

  Or for her, for that matter. Maybe if she hadn’t sipped wine at Andy and Hillary’s anniversary party, Kaden wouldn’t be proposing a toast right now.

  “To us,” he said, lifting his glass in Sierra’s direction. “And a healthy baby along with a successful marriage.”

  His gaze held hers, and she couldn’t look away.

  During dinner, Kaden kept the conversation light, telling her about his ranch, the horses, and the cattle he ran on its one hundred acres.

  Then the tension jumped up a notch when he informed her of his plans to hire one, possibly two, additional ranch hands so that he’d be around more to assist her and their child.

  “You don’t have to do that, Kaden. Really.”

  “I’ve made up my mind.”

  “Your mind?” she asked. “What about my choice?”

  “Like?” His fork clinked loudly against the plate.

  “Like the fact that I’m going to keep working, even after the baby is born. If we find it necessary, we can hire a nanny.”

  “There will not be any nannies, Sierra. Our child will have a mother and father. That’s all he or she will need.”

  “There you go again,” she complained. “Making plans for my life.”

  “Our lives,” he corrected.

  “Okay then. Our lives. Our lives. Both of us get to make decisions.”

  “Please don’t get upset,” he stated softly, reaching over to place his hand on top of hers. “It’s not good for you.”

  Electricity raced through her at his touch, and she pulled her hand away and placed it into her lap. “Easy for you to say. As long as we do everything your way, there’s no reason to get upset, right?”

  “Sierra, I know how to meet you halfway. I’m willing to.”

  She disputed what she knew was a lie. “Then we’ll hire a nanny.”

  “Why would we need to when I’m here?”

  “You’re going to take care of the baby while I work?”

  “Yes, unless you have an issue with me fulfilling my fatherly duties.”

  The thought of him—all six-foot-two-inches of masculine energy and power—holding a tiny baby, changing diapers, feeding and offering comfort, pacing the floor and rocking their child to sleep, filled her with jolts of happiness.

  She tried to picture what their child might look like. Would their baby have dark, straight hair like Kaden’s? And would chocolate eyes stare at her with the same kind of intensity that was reflected in the depths of Kaden’s mysterious ga
ze? Or maybe her light eye color would dominate and she’d see resemblance of herself in their baby’s face.

  But the idea that thrilled her the most was the thought of Kaden looking downward at trusting innocence. He’d be a wonderful father. She had no doubt of that. Kaden succeeded in everything he set his mind to. And he’d set his sights on her and their unborn child.

  “Sierra, I’ve told you I’m not a monster.”

  It would be easier if he were, if she could dislike him.

  “Go lie down while I clean up.”

  “I don’t want to lie down”

  “The doctor said you should.”

  “No. You said I should.”

  “Yes, I did,” he admitted, with a guilty grin.

  She opened her mouth to put up a fight then closed it when she realized if she was in the living room, at least she’d be away from him.

  Sierra rushed out of the kitchen. In the family room, she sat on a large, bulky leather couch that shouted “male domain.” She wished she could ignore the sound of his singing. Men didn’t sing. And men didn’t do dishes. They definitely didn’t sing while they did dishes.

  He was so annoying, overbearing, controlling, mesmerizing...

  She buried her face into, her hands.

  A few moments later, that’s the way he found her.

  “I’m fine,” she stated, redirecting his concern, or so she thought.

  He squatted down beside her, picking her feet up off the floor and arranging her until she lay on the couch. Then he reached for a quilt and covered her with it.

  “Would you like another fire?”

  “Not necessary. I’m sure you have more important things to do, like chores.”

  “Actually, I’ve completed everything I need to do. I’m at your command.”

  Blessedly, he moved away, threw a couple of logs into the fireplace, then struck a match, the crackle of the flame filling the awkward silence.

  She didn’t want to be charmed by him, didn’t want to watch every one of his confident motions. Most importantly she didn’t want to recall how good it had felt to be held in his powerful embrace as he led her gracefully across the dance floor.

  He turned and stared at her, one brow arched in question.

  Sierra closed her eyes and turned away.