And Cowboy Makes Three (Cowboys To The Rescue 2)

by Martha Shields

  She caught up with her husband. “These are my clothes. I’ll pay for them.”

  He looked up with a puzzled expression. “These are my wife’s clothes. I’ll pay.”

  “Jake, I thought I made it perfectly clear that I’m not in this for your money. I will pay for my own things and that’s that.”

  He studied her for a long minute, then said, “All right then, pick out what you want to pay for. I’ll buy the rest.”

  “But I just said—”

  “You can’t stop me from buying what I want, can you?” he asked with a set jaw.

  “Well, no, but—”

  “I don’t see what difference it makes, anyway. Soon all the money you have will be coming from me.”

  Her chin lifted. “But I’ll be earning it.”

  “You earned this last night.”

  Claire caught her breath in shock at the crude comment.

  Realizing what he’d just said, Jake took a step toward her. “Damn, angel, I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “I’m not your angel. Apparently, I’m your whore.” Claire wheeled around and stalked from the store.

  “Claire, wait!” He started after her, then realized his arms were laden with delicate merchandise. He threw them at the nearest clerk and told her to ring them up. Then he sprinted out into the mall.

  She was three stores down before he caught up with her. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her to a stop. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

  She jerked out of his grip. “I’m going to catch a cab to the airport.”

  “I didn’t mean that the way you took it, Claire.”

  Her slender brow arched. “Oh? How else am I supposed to take it? I slept with you, and now you’re trying to pay me for it.”

  “Men don’t marry whores.”

  “Don’t they?” Her eyes glistened with tears she blinked furiously back. “Then tell me what the difference is.”

  Since they were blocking the flow of traffic and attracting attention, Jake grabbed her hand and hauled her over to a store window where a dozen televisions played silent pictures. He ran his hands up slender arms held stiff at her sides. “I wasn’t paying you for sex. I just wanted to thank you for the incredible gift you gave me.”

  She regarded him warily. “What gift?”

  He glanced around to see if anyone was listening, but no one paid them any attention now that they were out of the way. He gently ran a finger along her jawline. “Your virginity.”

  “My virginity?” she repeated, clearly surprised. “That was something that had to be gotten out of the way so we can make a baby.”

  “Maybe to you, but to me it meant a lot more.”

  “Like what?”

  He slipped an arm around her waist and drew her closer. She didn’t resist, but didn’t relax against him, either. “I guess you can’t understand how a man feels when his wife comes to him pure, untouched by any other man.”

  “You’re talking like some medieval lord.” Then she added quietly, suspiciously, “And even more like a cowboy.”

  His lips twisted. “You have to remember that though I don’t resemble one much now, I was raised a cowboy.”

  “Thank heaven you grew out of it,” she murmured, then said a bit stronger, “So with you everything relates to money, doesn’t it? Someone does something for you, and you pay them for it. Tip them.”

  Jake didn’t like the way she said that, didn’t like the truth that stabbed deep. “No one has complained until now.”

  Her face softened, and she laid her hands on his chest. “Poor Jake. Hasn’t anyone ever given you anything you didn’t have to pay for?”

  He stiffened at her obvious pity. Poor Jake? Didn’t she know how much he was worth? “Everything has to be paid for, one way or another.”

  She looked even sadder and ran a hand along his jaw. “That isn’t true. Love is free.”

  “Love?” he scoffed. “Love is the most expensive commodity in the world. Fools waste millions pursuing it every day.”

  For the briefest instant, Claire looked as if she’d been slapped, but she quickly schooled her features to a mask of indifference. “I know you believe love is a fairy tale, but you’re wrong. Just wait until our son or daughter wraps his or her chubby little arms around your neck and squeezes tight.”

  The memory that flittered across Jake’s mind at her words had been tucked into a dark corner of his soul so long ago he couldn’t remember tucking it. His own chubby arms reached out to his father who roughly pushed him away.

  She’s gone, boy. Take it like a man.

  That must’ve been when his mother died. He was only three. After that his father hadn’t said two kind words to him until the day he died—a year after Jake had paid off the debt on the Bar Hanging Seven. Eli Anderson never even thanked him for saving the ranch.

  “You’ll understand about love then, Jake Anderson,” she said solemnly.

  He leaned close to brush his lips across his wife’s forehead, but more to hide the stabbing memory that flashed across his face. His voice was a hoarse whisper as he asked, “I will?”

  She shuddered in his arms. “You’d better, or this marriage doesn’t stand a chance.”

  Claire came awake easily, drifting from dreams to a reality that was almost as good.

  She smiled because she knew immediately where she was. In a fancy hotel room high above Las Vegas with a hulking furnace against her back, skin to skin, and a hard, bulky bicep forming her pillow. After only three nights of marriage, she was already accustomed to waking in Jake’s arms. Of course, she’d spent most of the last thirty-six hours enfolded in these arms—in passion, in sleep, in tender moments as they talked. Long enough to memorize the little details, like the musky scent underlying the soap she’d lathered over every inch of him when they shared a shower. Like how many times his long arms could wrap around her. The firmness of this muscle, the curve of that one. The tickling of the hair on his forearm rubbing against her cheek.

  She pushed forward slightly to place a kiss in the bend of Jake’s elbow. He stirred slightly and drew her back against him. Claire snuggled closer, fitting her curves into his. She could definitely get used to this.

  Her brows knit. Was it possible? Was fate quirky enough to throw them together in such a bizarre way and expect them to find love?

  Claire closed her eyes and mentally shook her head. Neither one of them was looking for love, most of all Jake. He wanted an heir, plain and simple. Any woman stuck in that elevator with him would probably have ended up as his bride. She’d been in the right place at the right time—or was that the wrong place at the wrong time?

  She laid a hand across her stomach. Even now, their child could be growing within her. A few tiny cells grabbing their first foothold in this world. The wonder of it took her breath away. She wanted a child more than anything.

  What about Jake? Would he love this baby? Or was it just another business acquisition? What if her notion had been right that Jake didn’t know how to love? What if he never learned? What would that do to their children?

  What would it do to her?

  Jake shifted ever so slightly, drawing Claire even closer. She shivered all the way down to her toes.

  She’d thought having a child would be enough, but now she realized she wanted the whole package—a job she loved, happy kids and a loving husband. She wanted to feel like she felt right now for the rest of her life—warm. safe, cherished. And most of all...wanted.

  Except for his brief calls to the office, she’d been at the center of Jake’s attention for the last three days. He hadn’t spent more than ten minutes at a time out of her sight. She’d never felt this important to anyone.

  Never in a bizillion years would she have thought she’d actually like having so much attention, being held so closely. It worried her to discover she did. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear she was falling in love.

  Claire felt a frown furrow her forehead.

  She�
��d always been just fine alone. She became irritated with men who demanded too much of her time, gave the cold shoulder to guys who called her several times a day, who acted like she belonged to them.

  Claire Eden didn’t belong to anyone except Claire Eden. Never had. Never would.

  Only...now she was Claire Anderson. Jake insisted she take his name, to avoid confusion for their children.

  Another part of her identity...slipping away.

  No! She refused to become a shadow under Jacob Anderson’s wing.

  She had to take her cue from him. She had to refuse to believe in love. If she didn’t believe it could happen, it wouldn’t. She just had to recognize the tender feelings that came in the aftermath of passion for what they were—physical satisfaction. The warmth came from his body, the safety from his strength, and as for feeling cherished—well, that was an illusion. He wanted her for one thing only, and that certainly wasn’t love.

  She was Jacob Anderson’s broodmare. All right, she accepted that. But that meant he was her stallion, standing at stud. He wanted an heir. She wanted a baby. Like any good stock, they were coming together to breed. That’s what they would do. That’s all they would do.

  Claire carefully reviewed her plan for flaws, like she’d check a spreadsheet for entry errors. Her logic seemed sound—except for one tiny detail. If she hadn’t been able to distinguish between love and lovemaking during their three-day honeymoon, what made her think she’d be able to now?

  To be on the safe side, maybe she should avoid making love as much as possible. Yes, she wanted to get pregnant, but that didn’t mean they had to make love twenty-four hours a day, did it? Surely once a day would do the job just as well. The less time she spent in his arms, the less chance there’d be of falling in love.

  They were flying home today. Back in Denver her days would be filled with starting her new job. And her nights, well...

  As long as she could keep her perspective, her independence would be safe—and so would her heart.

  Chapter Six

  Jake squinted at the alarm clock. Six-thirty. As a Denver radio announcer predicted snow at the higher elevations, he reached over to wake Claire, but his arm came up empty. Frowning, he threw back the covers on the king-size bed in the master bedroom of his penthouse and headed for the bathroom.

  Claire stood in front of the mirror, leaning close to brush mascara on her eyelashes. She wore one of the few casual shirts he kept at the penthouse. Unbuttoned, it revealed a set of lingerie he’d had delivered to the hotel in Las Vegas after their fight at the mail—a black lace bra that barely covered the essentials and panties to match.

  Feeling himself stir to life, confident of his reception, he took another step into the bathroom.

  She started when he appeared in the mirror. “I didn’t know you were awake.”

  He slipped his arms around her slender waist, inside the shirt so he could touch the skin that felt like velvet. “How long have you been up?”

  Claire held herself very still. “Several hours. I guess I’m a little nervous about my first day.”

  “Why didn’t you wake me?” he asked in a husky voice as he bent to taste the nape of her neck.

  “You were sleeping so soundly I didn’t want to disturb you.” Instead of melting into him as she usually did when he touched her, she stiffened and tried to pull the shirt back together. “Please, Jake. Not now.”

  His lips froze on her neck. She was refusing him?

  Raising his head, he met her troubled eyes in the mirror. It was the first time she hadn’t turned to him, eager for his kisses.

  He didn’t like it—not one bit.

  He wanted her more now than he had on their wedding night. Sometimes he didn’t even remember they were trying to make a baby, so lost did he become in the intense pleasure. Each time they made love was hotter, higher, better than the time before. He loved the throaty cries she made, the gasp of pleasure when he entered her, the way she pulsed inside when she reached the peak of passion. Because he didn’t use a condom, he could feel every tiny ripple.

  Jake’s face tightened. He couldn’t get enough of her. Never had he been this insatiable, never so less in control.

  His frown deepened, and his arms fell away from her as if she’d suddenly turned into a red-hot coal.

  She shuddered visibly and lowered her eyes.

  He had to clench his hands into fists to keep from yanking her back into his arms and forcing her to admit to the passion they’d shared during the past three days. Appalled at his total lack of discipline, he wheeled toward the shower only to stop short again. The dark red suit he’d bought her in Las Vegas—again over her arguments—hung on the shower door.

  “Oh, I was steaming the wrinkles out of it.” She dropped the small brush she’d picked up and stepped toward the shower. “It’s the only thing I have to wear since I haven’t had time to go by my apartment. I’ll just—”

  Jake stopped her with a hand on her arm. “I’ll use another bathroom.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Jake. This is your home. I’ll use another bathroom.”

  “No,” he said sternly. “This is your home now, too. We’ve just got to get used to working around one another.”

  She smiled nervously. “I guess you’re right. Most couples have months or years to get to know each other before they marry.”

  He relaxed enough to return her smile. She really was on edge. After a day of work she’d see that everything was going to run as smoothly as it always had, and she’d be fine. Back to her innocently passionate self. Though he didn’t want to, he could certainly find enough discipline within himself to wait until tonight to taste the delights of his wife again.

  He bent to place a quick kiss on her lips. “We just need a little time to learn each other’s schedules. I’ll use the other bathroom today.”

  “But I can—”

  “Don’t worry about it. I just need to grab the shampoo.”

  “Okay. I’ll be out of here by the time you shower so you can shave.”

  Jake opened the shower door and grabbed his shampoo. “See? We’re compromising already.”

  He stole another kiss, then walked out the door.

  “How did it go today?”

  Claire twisted around from the computer in her seventh-floor office to see Jake leaning against the doorjamb, an intimate smile on his face.

  Damn the man. How could she play it cool when just the sight of him made her forget to breathe? She’d escaped making love that morning, even though she’d been ready to throw him on the floor the instant she felt his hands on her.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” she told him.

  That wicked brow lifted. “Like what?”

  “Like you know what color my underwear—” She rolled her eyes. “I guess you do know, don’t you?”

  His grin widened. “Black lace. The ones I bought you in Vegas.”

  Claire felt heat climb up her neck, and she craned to look around him. “Mrs. Hamby...”

  “Has gone home for the day. Which is what we’re going to do. It’s after seven, angel. I came to take you to supper.”

  She shook her head. “I’ve got too much work.”

  He stalked around the desk like a huge cat, certain of his prey. “The beans will still be here tomorrow.”

  Claire eyed him warily as he approached, but she was determined not to let him intimidate her. “That’s true, but I scheduled meetings with each one of the employees under me tomorrow, and I need to know what I’m talking about.”

  Instead of towering over her, he gave her a quick peck on the lips, then sat on the edge of her desk. “So your first day went well?”

  Pushing her chair back so she could look at him without craning her neck, she sent him a grateful smile. “It’s a little early to tell, but I think everything’s okay. Thanks for giving me such a supportive introduction this morning. It helped the transition.”

  “No problem. But the transition started days ag
o when Jim Gordon informed the staff of the change first thing Monday morning. So they’ve had three days to get used to the idea.”

  “Are you sure Jim doesn’t resent not getting this job?”

  Jake’s eyes narrowed. “Has he said anything to you? Acted in a way like he—”

  “No, of course not I just wondered.” She lifted a shoulder. “I’ve never been responsible for so many people before. I guess I have to get used to it.”

  “Like you have to get used to me?”

  She quickly glanced up at his sexy tone, but his face was playful. “I hope it’s sooner than that.”

  He grinned and reached for her. “Let me help.”

  She pushed her chair back to avoid his arms. “Oh, no, you don’t, Jacob Anderson. Not in my office. You made me director of this department and I’ve got to maintain a high sense of—”

  She squealed in a very unbosslike manner as she suddenly found herself lifted from her chair. He took her place and laid her across his lap. Before she had a chance to protest, his lips covered hers. The warm pressure swept her senses away, and with them went every well-thought-out, logical reason to avoid his touch. Nearly an entire day had passed since she’d tasted him, held him, breathed in the musky scent that fogged her brain. Every cell of her skin ached to feel his pressed against it. She wanted him hot, and hard, and now.

  Slipping a hand under his jacket, she traced his ribs around to his back.

  Jake groaned and shifted her so her bottom settled on his arousal. White-hot desire surged through her.

  “Mrs. Anderson, do you really have to—”

  Claire’s head snapped around to see a red-faced Jim Gordon. Her own cheeks flaming, she sprang from Jake’s lap, jerked her skirt down and tried to snap her brain back into the “on” mode. “Jim! I didn’t know you were still here.”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Anderson. I didn’t know you were—” he cleared his throat miserably “—occupied.”

  A muffled laugh escaped Jake. Claire kicked his foot under cover of her desk and tried hard to keep her composure. “What did you need, Jim?”