by Susan Stoker
Nash frowned. “You were willing to marry the man for a house and kids?”
Phoebe stared at the building in front of them. “My parents are proof you don’t have to be in love to be married and procreate. Sometimes I felt like a doll they kept around to dress up and parade in front of their friends and acquaintances.”
Nash shook his head, feeling sorry for the little girl who grew up in a big house with parents who treated her as more of a possession than a cherished member of a loving family.
If she were a member of his family, he wouldn’t have let her feel like a stranger in her own home. But she wasn’t a member of his family. She didn’t belong to him, and as soon as they found the people responsible for shooting at her, she’d no longer need him to protect her.
Though he’d only known her a day, the thought of her walking out of his life, only made him want to reach out and hold. The thought was insane, but he couldn’t make it go away. In an attempt to direct himself away from dangerous thoughts of getting to know Phoebe better, and perhaps making her a part of his family, Nash steered the conversation in another direction. “You had horses?”
Chapter Ten
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Phoebe smiled across at Nash and nodded. “Yes, we had horses. I imagine my father will probably sell them, now that I’m gone.”
“Neither your mother or father ride?” Nash asked.
“No. My father bought the horses as an investment. I didn’t care what he called it. I was thrilled because I got to ride.”
“While you’re at the ranch, you can ride any horse you like.”
Her chest tightened and her eyes stung. “Can I?” Why was this man so generous? She’d been nothing but trouble since he’d found her on the side of the road.
He gave her a stern look. “As long as I’m with you.”
Her heart lightening, she smiled. Riding with Nash sounded like heaven. “Deal. Could we ride tomorrow?”
Nash nodded, his lips curling up on the corners. “Come on. Let’s see if Beckett and Kinsey are home. I don’t see either one of their vehicles, but they could be parked around back.”
Inside, the house was shadowed and silent.
“Beckett?” Nash called out. “Kinsey?”
No one answered.
Carrying Phoebe’s plastic grocery bag full of thrift-shop clothing, Nash led the way up the stairs. “You can have this room. The bathroom is right across the hall.”
“Thank you.” She took the bag from his hand and laid it on the bed. “Where will you be?”
“I’m in the next room. If you run into any trouble, all you have to do is call out. I’ll be there for you.”
She nodded and stared around the room, glad to know Nash wouldn’t be far. After all that had happened, Phoebe didn’t feel safe. Her self-defense classes wouldn’t help her stop a bullet, should the shooter decide to target her again.
The room she stood in was like a spread in a magazine touting the virtues of cozy cabins in the woods. A wooden four-poster bed stood in the middle of the far wall. A brightly colored quilt covered the mattress, giving the room a warm, vibrant and welcoming quality her room back home lacked.
“I’m sorry,” Nash said. “It’s probably not what you’re used to, but it’s home to us.”
She turned to him, her eyes wide, tears welling. “Oh, Nash. I was just thinking how much like a real home everything here is—this room, this house, the ranch. Not like the sterile, art-deco style my mother prefers. I love it here.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest, inhaling the fresh outdoorsy scent that was Nash. “I’m just sorry that my bid for independence has been at the Grayson family’s expense. I was supposed to live on my own, learn how to survive without my father’s money or servants.” She laughed and dug her fingers into his shirt, wishing she could take back all the trouble. “Instead, I’m a burden on you and your brothers.”
He shifted against her, his hand resting at the small of her back, his cheek pressing against the side of her temple. “You know I don’t feel that way.” He tipped up her chin and stared down into her eyes. “I have to admit, when I first ran into you stranded on the side of the road, with your wedding dress puffed out all around you and your car stuck on a fencepost, I didn’t expect you to stay in Hellfire.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I thought, the first chance you got, you’d be on your way back to where you’d come from.”
“I couldn’t go home,” she admitted. “I no longer fit in there.” It wasn’t the first time she’d felt that way. But this was the first time she’d done anything about it. And boy had she gone out in a big way.
Nash swept a strand of her hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear, his coarse fingers evidence of a man who worked with his hands. As they brushed against her ear, tingles spread from where he touched on down to her aching core.
“I was certain I’d be glad to see the back of you,” he whispered.
“And now?” She stared up into his clear blue gaze, her heart squeezing in her chest, her breath catching in her throat.
“I’m glad you didn’t leave,” he said.
Phoebe let go of the breath she’d held and leaned into his body, relieved he didn’t regret meeting her.
“If you had gone,” he continued, “I couldn’t do this.” Nash pressed his lips to her cheek and followed the line out to her earlobe.
Unable to resist his touch, Phoebe tilted her head, allowing him greater access to her bare skin.
Nash trailed kisses down the long line of her neck to the base where her pulse beat wildly. “Or this.” He threaded his fingers into her thick hair and tugged her head backward. His lips found the swell of her breasts rising above the dip of the tank top neckline.
She caught the back of his neck and held his head over her breasts, her chest rising and falling like a runner at the end of a race. Each time she filled her lungs, the rounded swells rose, meeting his lips.
He graced them with a kiss, his hand sliding down her back to pull her hips closer. Nash kicked the bedroom door closed behind him.
Phoebe didn’t know where his brother Beckett and his fiancée Kinsey had gone, nor when they’d be back. She didn’t care. She was past thinking about anything or anyone beyond the walls of the quaint little bedroom with the pretty four-poster bed. Her focus zeroed in on the former soldier and all of the naughty things he could do.
Nash squeezed the firm flesh of her buttocks.
Heat pooled low in Phoebe’s belly. She wrapped one of her smooth calves around the back of his leg, her skin scraping over the denim of his jeans.
Despite the thickness of two layers of fabric between them, she could feel his heat against her center.
The hard ridge beneath his fly pressed against her leg. God, he was tempting. How could a man who’d only come into her life a day earlier have her wrapped so tightly she could barely draw a breath? With his arms around her, she could feel the hard contours of his body, her own softer curves accommodating him. Desire rose like molten lava, hot and fast, racing outward.
She hadn’t come to his ranch with the intention of making love to the handsome deputy. But now, with their bodies entwined, she could think of nothing she wanted more. If she gave in to the aching passion, he’d think she was as bad as any other socialite. Still, she couldn’t tear herself away. She needed him, inside her, filling her to make the emptiness of her life have new meaning. Phoebe caught his face between her hands and kissed him, her tongue pushing through his lips to tangle with his, her heart open, willing to risk everything for one chance with him.
If he were smart, Nash would have backed up, turned and run from the room before he went any further with Phoebe. The runaway bride and daughter of the multi-millionaire was so far out of his league he would be crazy to get involved. Instead, he stood there like she was any woman, not a wealthy heiress. He held the swell of her hips in his hands, pressing her closer.
Then Phoebe pushed against his chest and stepp
ed out of the circle of his arms.
Thank God, she was the one to break it off, to stop the insanity before they went too far. Cool air did nothing to chill the inferno blazing inside Nash. Yet, he felt bereft at the distance she’d placed between them. A moment before he’d chastised himself for letting the madness go as far as it had. Now he couldn’t bring himself to let her walk away. He raised his hands to pull her back against him.
Phoebe shook her head and grasped the hem of her tank top. With a smile, she pulled it up over her head.
Hallelujah! Nash dragged in a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment, sending a silent ‘thank you’ to the heavens. Then he fought for calm, patience and whatever it would take to make him last more than five seconds before he exploded. When he opened his eyes, he took her hands and forced his gaze to rise above the lacy cups of her white, strapless bra to connect with her green-eyed stare. “I didn’t bring you here to seduce you.”
“Who said you were seducing me?” Smiling, she inched closer and grabbed the hem of his T-shirt. “Do you expect your brother back anytime soon?”
“God, I hope not,” Nash said, his breath hitching in his chest. “You don’t owe me anything.”
Her brows furrowed. “Owe you?” She tilted her head sideways. “Do you think I’m paying you for rescuing me?”
He hoped not. Sex as payment for doing his job was wrong in so many ways. And what he felt for Phoebe couldn’t be anything but right. “I just want to be sure.”
“My father always says, nothing is sure in life, but death and taxes.” She shook her head, a smile quirking the edges of her lips. “I’ve always followed the rules, done what I was told, thought what my father told me to think. This time, I’m thinking for myself.” Her hands twisted in his shirt and dragged it upward, inch by inch. “I want to feel for myself and…make love to the one I want.” She stopped halfway up his torso. “Unless, you don’t want to.” Her eyes shot wide. “Good Lord, I don’t want to take advantage of you, any more than I already have.”
“Advantage of me…not want to?” He couldn’t wrap his thoughts around her words. They made absolutely no sense, and the pretty frown settling between her eyes only made him laugh. “Are you kidding?” He pulled her hips toward him and nudged her belly with the hard ridge beneath his jeans. “What do you think?”
Her frown disappeared, and she slid her hand between them, cupping his package. “I think we’re heading in the same direction.”
“Good, because I was beginning to think I’d fallen down a rabbit hole with no directions for how to get out.” With a quick move, he yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it to the corner.
Phoebe squeezed his hand and backed toward the bed. “This way, Alice.”
He resisted, shaking his head. “You did not just call me Alice.”
Phoebe winked. “If not Alice, show me who you are.” Holding his gaze, she reached for the rivet on her denim shorts and flicked it open. When her fingers closed around the metal zipper tab, she smiled and drew it downward.
Blood roared in Nash’s ears and thundered through his veins, heading due south. He swept Phoebe up by the backs of her thighs and lifted, wrapping her long, luscious legs around his waist. His cock strained against the confines of his jeans, aching to press into the warm wetness of her channel.
Dipping his head, he claimed her mouth, plundering its depths, tasting and teasing her tongue until she clamped her hands around his head and gave as good as she got. Nash crossed the floor and eased Phoebe onto the bed, knocking the bag of her clothes to the floor. “Say the word and we can stop here.”
“For the love of Mike, don’t stop now.” She weaved her hands into his hair and pulled him closer, making room for him on the bed beside her.
Nash pulled his wallet from his back pocket, extracted a condom and laid it on the bed beside her. “I was a good boy scout. Always prepared.”
“Oh, thank God. I didn’t even think…” Phoebe mumbled and grabbed his shoulders, rolling him onto his back. She shimmied out of her shorts, kicked them to the floor and straddled his hips to tug at the button on his jeans.
He covered her hands with his. “Why the hurry?”
“Seriously?” She stared at him, her jaw dropping. “I’m on fire! If we wait one more minute, I’m certain the sheets will spontaneously combust. I won’t be held responsible if your house burns down because you wanted to waste time on foreplay.”
At her unexpected comment, he laughed out loud. His chest tight, his groin tighter, Nash sobered, leaned forward and kissed her, then flipped her onto her back and pressed his lips to the hammering pulse at the base of her throat. He edged lower, pushing aside the cup of her bra to capture a nipple between his teeth. “You’re beautiful.”
Phoebe gasped. She arched her back, offering up more of herself, twisting an arm behind her back to unhook the bra. “Enough talk.” Both breasts sprang free, lush, perky and tipped with rosy peaked nipples.
Nash sucked one into his mouth, taking as much as he could, flicking and tapping the hardening evidence of her desire.
She clasped his head and shifted his attention to the other one.
After thoroughly exploring the second perfectly formed nipple, Nash blazed a path downward, his mind completely consumed by the image of her body lying against his grandmother’s quilt, the brightly-colored squares framing her in a cacophony of color and light.
Her bright, coppery hair spilled out around her shoulders, her green eyes reflecting the sunlight filtering through the open window. “Please,” she moaned.
“Please what?”
“I want you…nooowww.” She ran her hand down her belly to cup the juncture of her thighs.
Nash hooked his thumb in the elastic of her panties, dragged the scrap of silk down her legs, past her feet and tossed it to the corner. He rolled off the bed, shucked his boots and jeans, all the while consuming her with his gaze. When he stood before her naked, he couldn’t believe this beautiful woman, with the pale skin, flaming auburn hair, and eyes the color of spring hay, lay waiting for him.
Phoebe’s cheeks flushed a pretty pink. “You look like you’re hungry and ready to eat the proffered offering.”
“I am, and I will.”
Her eyes darkened. She drew her knees upward and then let them fall to each side, leaving a gap between her legs for him to slide between.
And he did. Climbing onto the bed, he settled between her legs, draping her thighs over his shoulders. He scooped his hands beneath her bottom and raised her to him.
Her entrance glistened with the dew of her desire. She dug her hands into the quilt, curling her fingers around the colorful squares.
Nash dipped his tongue into her center and swirled.
Phoebe threw back her head and moaned.
He chuckled. “Still think I’m wasting time on foreplay?”
“No!” she said, her voice barely more than a gasp. “Yes! No!”
Nash loved that she was conflicted. Loved that she was overcome by her passion. Not until he brought her to the very edge would he take her. Not a moment sooner. Their first time had to be so incredible, she would stay for another…and another.
He continued to tongue her until she twisted her hands in his hair, arched her back and cried out, “I need you. Inside me. Now!”
He climbed up between her legs and entered her slowly, letting her adjust to his size.
Her channel contracted around him, squeezing, drawing him deeper.
The heat, the slick moisture and her legs wrapping around him pushed him past his ability to take his time and make it last. “I. Can’t. Hold. Back. Any longer.”
She clasped his face in her hands and stared up into his eyes. “Then don’t. Give me all you’ve got.”
He thrust into her, hard, fast and deep, pounding against her again and again.
Phoebe threw back her head and moaned. She lowered her legs, dug her heels into the mattress and met him thrust for thrust.
The clo
ser he came to the edge of release, the more rigid his body grew. Driving into her one last time, he launched into the stratosphere, calling out her name. “Phoebe! Oh, sweet Phoebe!”
He remained deep inside her for a long, exquisite moment, his cock throbbing, the tension leaving him with each passing second. Finally, he collapsed on the bed beside her, maintaining their intimate connection.
Now that he’d had her in his arms and buried himself inside her, he couldn’t let her go. He wanted to get to know this woman who’d turned her back on her life in the city, with servants taking care of her every need, to start over in Hellfire.
Nash prayed she didn’t change her mind. Following his first prayer, he asked to keep her safe from the men who’d attacked her. He hoped he would be smart and brave enough to deflect any future attempts on Phoebe’s life.
Chapter Eleven
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Phoebe snuggled against Nash for over an hour, reveling in the warmth and security of his muscled chest and rock-hard biceps. Skin-to-skin, she’d never felt more beautiful or cherished. In the back of her mind, she knew she should feel guilty that she was in another man’s bed barely a day after the death of her fiancé.
But she couldn’t feel the guilt. Only sorrow for a life ended before his time. Now that she knew what real passion was, Phoebe realized she’d never felt more than a brotherly liking for Ryan. Even that feeling had been a product of her father’s encouragement and approval of the match. She’d been stupid to agree to the wedding in the first place, when she didn’t love the man she was to marry.
She ran her hand across Nash’s broad chest, feeling the strength of his muscles beneath skin stretched tightly over his frame. This was a man she could fall in love with. Nash was a veteran, a man of honor who’d fought for his country and now served his community as a deputy, making it a safer place to live. And he protected her from a man who’d been determined to put a bullet through her.