A Bride Worth Fighting For

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A Bride Worth Fighting For Page 10

by Sara Daniel


  He flinched. Getting what he wanted with the land wasn’t worth standing as best man at her wedding again. “I’m not going to recommend that you marry John.”

  “I wouldn’t. Don’t worry. Your family is safe from me.”

  His chest ached nearly as much as his cock as she bent over in the form-fitting spandex outfit.

  “I’ll go back to working for someone else,” Gwen continued. “I assume you know I started my resort career in college working for a bed and breakfast. Since then, I’ve worked as an assistant manager and manager at a couple of different hotels.”

  “I didn’t know.” He hadn’t known anything about her life before the Wiccan Haus, other than her ability to dance and his dangerous assumptions about her personality and motives.

  Shrugging, she straightened and pulled her foot toward her buttocks. “I’m not exactly on a career path that will make you fall head over heels for me, but at least I know who I am. I’m going to run some more. I’ll see you at dinner.”

  She took off before he could reply. Tucker took two steps after her, but if he’d had any chance of keeping up, his waterlogged boots nixed the possibility. She didn’t want his company, anyway.

  All the professed emotional and spiritual healing touted in the Wiccan Haus brochure was crap. He’d never felt more miserable, and he couldn’t even blame Darlene for setting him up as Gwen’s fiancé.

  He treasured the days when she’d almost been his. If he could find a way for her to forget the past two days, he’d jump on the opportunity to prevent her from being hurt by him. Instead, he needed to convince her to give him another chance to make things right, even though he didn’t deserve it.

  ***

  Gwen dug her nails into her palm. Tucker stood in the doorway to the dining room, waiting for her. If she turned away, she could avoid him and the whole dinner scene by gorging on apples in the orchard. Unfortunately, for all the flexibility the staff showed to their guests, they were pretty rigid about the rule forcing everyone to congregate together each evening.

  “Have dinner with me so I don’t have to be that pathetic guy eating at a table alone.” He held out his arm to her.

  “You couldn’t be pathetic if you tried.” She glanced toward Holly and Justin, but their table was full, and they were oblivious to her desperation to distance herself from the man who had never been hers. She could suck up her misery—and eat fast.

  Placing her hand on Tucker’s forearm, she ignored the tingling that shot through her fingers and up her arm as they walked toward their table. As soon as they reached it, she released him and took her seat. Silence stretched while she fiddled with her napkin and the servers delivered the food.

  If she had to endure the meal, listening to his gravelly voice would at least make it bearable. “You must be eager to return home and get back to your life. Babysitting me this week can’t have been much of a vacation.”

  He lowered his fork, his eyes darkening with intensity. “Do you know how many relaxing memories I created with you—the picnic in the orchard, waltzing in the ballet room, lying next to you outside as the sun came up.”

  He might have enjoyed a peaceful sunrise, but she hadn’t. By the time she’d awoken, his scorn and dismissal had destroyed whatever serenity had surrounded them.

  Pushing aside the chicken breast that had smelled so good a moment ago, she forced herself to meet his gaze. “Want to guess my biggest disappointment over regaining my memory?”

  His face paled. “I can’t imagine.”

  “That you didn’t turn out to be my fiancé.” She should have kept the confession locked inside, but she couldn’t stop the words from flowing. “We had a spark. I wanted it to be real so badly, my chest hurts.”

  He reached across the table for her hand. “If we want it enough, we can make it real.”

  She shook her head, refusing to accept his touch and set herself up for more heartbreak by buying into the fantasy. “Here’s what I’ve learned this week: wishing for something doesn’t make it come true.”

  He scooted his chair around the table until he sat thigh to thigh with her. Her resolve disintegrated, even before he draped his arm around her shoulders. “We need one more chance to see how good we are together,” he whispered against her ear.

  She fought to hold herself stiff and not sink into him, trying to focus on the ache in her chest rather than the thigh-to-shoulder heat radiating between them and the tingling in her nerve endings.

  “Give me one night,” he continued, “and I’ll prove our connection wasn’t a fluke.”

  She needed another night with him, not because she believed the bullshit he was whispering to get in her pants, but because she longed to say a private and intimate good-bye to the love that fluttered just beyond her grasp.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Gwen lifted her hand and squeezed Tucker’s palm where he rested it on her shoulder. “I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do tonight. I accept your deal.”

  He leaned toward her, but she tipped her head down to avoid the kiss. His lips settled on her temple, a gesture filled with sweetness, gentleness, and care, the same treatment he’d bestowed on her from the moment she’d awoken in the hospital. She’d believed the act for too long and still wished he’d felt the same emotions he inspired in her.

  She and his brother might not have been a good match, but they’d been on to something with their plan to marry for business and family without bringing love and heartache into the equation. She tried to force herself to eat, but the chicken stuck in her throat, and she gave up the pretense.

  “Do you want to talk?” Tucker asked.

  “No. I want to get out of here.”

  “Let’s go then.” He kept his arm secure around her shoulders as they left the dining room.

  To keep from getting cold feet, she clung to the illusion he cared for her. Inside the elevator, she faced him and slid her hands under his T-shirt, skimming the pads of her fingertips over his flat nipples and wiry chest hairs.

  Taking the role of the aggressor gave her the best chance he’d only see her physical lust and not her emotions. As she pinched his nipple, he gasped, and she smirked. Yes, she would make the plan work.

  “I love it when you touch me,” he said.

  “I want to see you naked.” She pulled his shirt over his head. “I want to keep the lights on in the bedroom so I can watch my hands and mouth caress your skin. I’m going to ride you and watch you come.”

  His eyes dilated with desire. If she inspected his groin, she had no doubt he’d be rock hard. “I have one request.”

  “What?” The elevator doors dinged and opened, but she didn’t glance away from him.

  “Let’s get out of this elevator and into your bedroom now.”

  She couldn’t sneer at his eagerness because it matched her own. Stepping into the hall, she led the way to her room. Before she could walk inside, Tucker lifted her and carried her over the threshold.

  While he held her, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him with abandon. With her focus on the moment, she refused to acknowledge the past or the future. If she couldn’t have true amnesia about the reality of their situation, she’d fake it to herself.

  Tucker lowered her to her feet, but she didn’t stop kissing him. She stroked her fingers over his unshaven cheeks, inhaling his purely male scent. With her mouth, she explored his chin and neck and then caressed his lean, strong chest. His navel beckoned, and she trailed kisses down his flat, smooth abs. She knelt in front of him and unsnapped his jeans, lowering the zipper.

  “Gwen.” He tangled his fingers in her hair.

  She tugged down his jeans then the elastic on his briefs. His erection bobbed free and proud as she knelt and wiggled his underwear down his hips. Unable to resist, she breathed lightly over the tip of his cock.

  He gasped, his fists tightening on her hair.

  “You licked me last time. It’s only fa
ir I return the favor.” She brushed her tongue over the tip, swirling in a circle, and then licked to the base before working her way back to the head.

  “If you keep that up, you’ll make me come with my pants still around my knees.” He lifted her to her feet.

  She kissed his lips, pleased to call the shots and leave him at the mercy of his desire. “This is a problem because?”

  “Because you’re still dressed and I haven’t touched you yet.”

  “I don’t see any problem.” She attempted to dip her head to take his cock in her mouth again, but he tugged her shirt off, holding her upright.

  Eyes blazing, he walked her backward toward the bed, his erection rubbing her stomach with every step. She wanted to climb on him and pull him inside her, as if by claiming him she could make him a part of her and never let him go.

  He unhooked her bra and tossed it aside. His gaze on her breasts, he smiled. “Better.”

  The backs of her knees hit the side of the bed. Her legs folded, and she sank onto the mattress. Still matching her step for step, Tucker leaned over her, demonstrating both his devotion and his passion for her breasts with his hands and mouth.

  She could lie on the bed and allow him to touch and taste her, pleasuring her with a shattering orgasm. But she refused to passively accept what he offered. They were coming together in lust, and the longer she lay still, soaking in his caresses, the more the poignant emotions that he would never feel for her in return began to surface.

  She scooted out from under him and knelt on the floor. While he sat on the bed, she removed his shoes and the rest of his clothing, leaving him stark naked. Then she stood and studied him, her equilibrium and control returning. “Stand up.”

  He obeyed.

  “Turn around.”

  He did, giving her the opportunity to admire his smooth back, tight ass, and lean hips. “You approve?” he teased over his shoulder.

  “You’ll do in a pinch,” she tossed back, pinching his ass, unable to deny how hot and shaky she’d become from ogling his gorgeous body.

  He spun toward her and lightly pinched her nipple.

  Desire streaked through her, filling her core with molten heat. She gasped.

  “Turnabout’s only fair.” He knelt before her, sucking on her nipple as he unsnapped her pants. He glided the clothes down her hips just as she had his. Holding her gaze, he stuck his index finger in his mouth and then slid the wet finger over her clit and over her even wetter opening.

  She moaned and steadied her hands on his shoulders while he removed her shoes and pulled her pants off her ankles. Then he sat on the bed and studied her body while she trembled with need. Dying for him to drag his finger against her swollen, aching flesh again, she couldn’t even think about her next step in pleasuring him.

  “Stand straight and turn around slowly,” he commanded.

  Her skin burning with desire, she turned away. While he drank in every inch of her, she bit her lip so she wouldn’t beg him to touch her, to take her. But not voicing her desire made her more passive, putting all the decisions in his hands.

  Across the room, the pouch with eleven foil packets still inside lay on the counter. She marched to it, grabbed one, and spun around to face him.

  Hands fisted on either side of him on the mattress, he sat straight, his gaze never wavering from her.

  She might have been able to amp the desire by swaying her hips and prancing seductively toward him. But, too angry at her inability to push aside her emotional needs, she stormed across the room instead, not stopping until her stomach nudged his chest. She shifted her legs on either side of his right thigh and ground her hot, wet pussy against his leg, grasping his hands before he could slide his finger inside her.

  “Gwen, you’re killing me. Let me stroke you. I can’t believe you’re so ready for me already.”

  “I want you inside me more than anything. I need you to feel complete.” She bit her lip again, wishing she could take back the raw truth and just say she wanted to screw his brains out.

  He tugged her arms, turning her so she sprawled on her back on the mattress. Once again, he loomed above her. “I want nothing more than to complete you.”

  Oh God, not tenderness. They would not make love this time. They were going to have raw, hard sex.

  “I’m going to ride you,” she reminded him, propping herself on her elbows. “I’m going make us both come.”

  His cock and Adam’s apple bobbed in unison. “If you keep talking like that, I’m going to come a lot sooner than you expect.”

  “Good.” The thrill of controlling the strength of his desire drove her to the edge of desperation. She rolled him so he lay flat on the bed and sheathed him in the condom. Positioning her knees on either side of his hips, she rose above him and grasped his thick shaft.

  He palmed her ass and squeezed. Both his need and her own pulsed through her, hot and dizzying.

  She lowered her body, dragging her clit along his cock before bringing him inside her. Inch by inch, she prolonged the deliciousness of him filling her. Tucker’s eyes glazed, and his mouth parted. She leaned over him and traced her tongue across his lips.

  He squeezed her ass again, and she pressed down, swallowing a scream. Tucker inside her equaled sheer perfection.

  Lifting her hips, she began a slow, sensuous up-and-down rhythm. He thrust in time with her. She reached behind and caressed his inner thighs until he gasped. She rocked harder, coasting her hands over his chest, trying to keep her eyes from closing so she wouldn’t miss a moment of the passion playing out across his face.

  “Gwen.” He hugged her, rubbing his naked chest against her sensitive nipples.

  She kissed his hungry mouth, still pumping her hips in desperation as lust, passion, and ecstasy overwhelmed her. His body stiffened, and her muscles spasmed. She splintered in every direction, leaving only one emotion in the aftermath.

  Love.

  She loved Tucker.

  What had started as a vast nothingness of a relationship she couldn’t remember and ultimately hadn’t existed had turned into a love as strong as any real-life engagement could hope to be based on. She loved him. But he’d linked up with her to ensure she didn’t sully the natural land areas he’d go to any length to protect.

  Well, she’d give him what he wanted. Returning home and carrying on with her plans and her life as if their week at the Wiccan Haus had been a meaningless fling wasn’t an option.

  Tucker squeezed her tighter, leaving no space between their bodies. “Lie with me, Gwen. I want to fall asleep to the sound of your heartbeat and your breath on my face.”

  She smiled, hoping it didn’t reflect her bittersweet emotions, hoping he was too sated and content to notice the tears in her eyes. She’d stay with him until he fell asleep.

  But then she would leave.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Tucker awoke alone. He rose onto his elbows and took in the empty room still bright with the overhead light. “Gwen?”

  He stood from the bed and checked the bathroom. Empty. She was gone.

  His stomach rumbled. Perhaps she’d gone to raid the kitchen. Their appetites for each other had taken priority over eating at dinner, and he didn’t regret giving in to them.

  He doubted the Rowans would send her on another midnight walk, but they tended toward unconventional and unpredictable suggestions. He tugged on his clothes and shoes. He wouldn’t be able to sleep again until he found Gwen. He didn’t want to sleep unless she was lying against him.

  Exiting the elevator into the lobby, he paused at the stillness. Combined with the dim lighting, the nighttime silence gave the lobby an entirely different atmosphere than during the day. Even the check-in desk was vacant.

  Low voices came from the couches near the grand piano, and he shifted in their direction. After a couple of steps, he recognized the back of Gwen’s head and sighed with relief that he’d found her so easily.

  Sh
e sat between Cemil and Sage on the couch. Cyrus sat in a chair alone, perpendicular to her. Sarka sat across from her brother. And Rekkus paced like a caged animal. Something serious must have happened to bring everyone together in a conference.

  Frustration filled him that Gwen hadn’t sought his counsel first. After sharing every inch of their bodies, they surely had reached the point of sharing confidences. Even if he couldn’t have helped her, he would have stood by her side and supported her. The possibility she hadn’t felt the same connection he had in bed sent a shiver through him.

  “I know my request is unusual,” Gwen addressed the Rowans. “But I could be good for your resort. I have hotel management experience, and I enjoy helping guests get the most out of their stay. I’ll be an asset to your team.”

  What the hell was she requesting? He took another step closer.

  “Nobody’s denying you’re good at your job. We respect and admire your talents,” Cemil said gently.

  “But you’re our guest,” Sarka said. “When your stay is up, you have to go home with the rest of the guests.”

  “Not every guest goes home,” Gwen said. “Dana was allowed to stay.”

  “Because she’s my mate,” Rekkus growled.

  “And the writer—”

  “That was an extraordinary circumstance,” Sage said.

  “Why does my case have to be any less extraordinary?” Gwen’s voice broke. “Your resort is a dream come true. I want to live and work here and help give your guests the best experience possible.”

  Tucker’s heart clenched, and he had to reach for the wall to steady himself. She didn’t want to return with him. She wanted to stay while he left. He might never see her again.

  No, if she stayed, he would come back.

  But, even using all his vacation time, they’d only sneak a week here and there, too few and far between. Why had she never mentioned wanting to stay? He sure would have liked to have had that information before he’d lost his heart.

 

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