by Sasha Gold
Luke carried her to his cabin and set her on the edge of his bed. Sometime later, sirens pierced the evening air. Luke entered the cabin with a paramedic. She wasn’t injured, she assured both of them. Nothing hurt and she had no wounds.
“We really should have a doc check you out,” the paramedic urged.
“I fell to the floor when the blast happened, but I didn’t fall hard.”
It took some convincing, but finally she managed to persuade both men that she was fine. Just shocked by the events of the evening.
“What happened? Did I do something wrong?” she asked Luke after the paramedic had packed up and left.
Luke crouched down in front of her. “You didn’t do anything wrong. The house is old, was old. The wiring, the plumbing, nothing’s been replaced since it was built years ago. The firemen are out there now, keeping the fire from spreading, but they said it’s going to be a total loss.
“A total loss…” she said softly.
“It doesn’t matter, Rachel.” His gaze was tender yet determined. “The most important thing is that you’re out of there. And safe.”
She was taken aback by the intensity of his words and how much they affected her. Trembling, she bit her lip and tried to think of what to say.
“I don’t want you to come out while the firemen work on keeping the fire under control. You’ve had a big shock and you’re not going to like the way the house looks.”
“It’s gone…”
“Pretty much,” he said softly. “We’ll build another one.”
He helped her get into his bed and drew the covers around her. Before he left, he kissed her on her head. She’d never felt so forlorn or pitiful and the small gesture, the kiss he gave her, made her eyes sting with tears.
In her dreams her mother chided her for her silly ideas of holding on to the farm. How she’d tied herself to a man she didn’t know just so she could own a dusty patch of ground that once belonged to a man who cared nothing for her.
You’re no better than me. Marrying for reasons that have nothing to do with love…
She tossed and turned, slamming into a wall of hard muscle sometime in the night.
“Rach. Rachel, you having a bad dream?” Luke’s whisper against her ear sent shivers of need down her body.
He turned her to face him and scattered kisses down the side of her neck. There was no urgency, just sweet kisses. His hand rested lightly on her hip. The offer wasn’t seduction, only comfort, and she let him hold her and tease her with soft, playful kisses.
“I owned the house for less than a day and I blew it up, Luke.”
He paused and his hand tightened around her hip. “Half of that house was mine. Remember?”
She could hear the smile in his voice and felt the curve of his lips against her neck.
“Luke…” Her words trailed off because she had no idea what to say. The overwhelming feelings robbed her of a response.
“Listen to me, Rachel.” His playful tone had vanished, replaced with a stern note. “I walked into that room and saw you huddled on the floor, bleeding and terrified. I knew the whole fucking tinderbox was coming down any minute. It was the worst feeling. Like my heart was outside of my chest, only it wasn’t my heart. It was you. Lying right there in the glass and smoke.”
She swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat. “Thank you…Luke.”
His response was a deep rumble that came from the depths of his chest. Gathering her close, his hand slipped under the hem of her shirt. She pulled it away.
“Now what?” he muttered.
“I don’t want you to touch my back.”
“Why not?”
“I have scars on my back. They’re ugly, and I don’t want you to see them or touch them.”
“Darling, there’s nothing ugly about you. That I know for sure. How’d you get them?”
“I was in car wreck when I was nine. My mother and her husband were having a fight and he ran a red light. I got cut up pretty badly. The scars are so ugly. I hate them.
He lay back and gathered her close. For a few moments, he didn’t say anything and when he spoke, his voice was gentle. “I’ve got more scars than you can shake a stick at. You’re fine. You’re perfect. The bad thing is that in the morning, you’re going to feel like you got run over by a herd of mules.”
“I am?”
“You are. Getting tossed around like that isn’t going to feel good. Trust me. I’ve been pitched off a horse dozens of times. So, I’m sorry but we’ll have to hold off on that fine, wedding night sex you’ve been thinking about all day.”
She laughed softly. “I haven’t been thinking about wedding night sex.”
“Oh come on. I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me all day. And I know how women are. Even my own mother… she got pregnant with me on her wedding night.”
“Your mother actually told you that?”
He nuzzled her neck. His erection pressed against her, sending a flash of alarm across her thoughts.
“She didn’t. I figured it out. Not all that hard, ya know.” He tugged her deeper into his embrace and groaned. “We’ll build a house with a nursery. Lots of bedrooms for the kids.”
His deep, gruff voice, and his hard body sent undeniable arousal through her body. Her breasts ached. Desire pooled in her core. She arched in his embrace, a movement she hadn’t intended. Her heart thudded against her sternum as she waited for a response from him. Would he accuse her of toying with him? Being a tease?
“Yeah.” He chuckled. “I want it too.”
Mortification burned her skin. “I’m not on the pill,” she blurted. “I should… probably take care of that.”
Her embarrassment spiked with that simple admission. She’d as much as told him she wanted him.
He growled, a deep rumble in his chest that she both felt and heard.
“Don’t,” he murmured.
Alarm threaded down her spine. “What?”
He sighed. “Good night, Mrs. Hardeman.”
Chapter Ten
Luke
Jed Wilson was a grouchy bastard, but Luke knew for certain that Jed was smart. Shrewd. If there was one thing the old man hated, it was spending money, but somewhere along the line he’d parted with a little cash and bought a fire-proof filing cabinet.
The morning after the fire, Luke discovered the filing cabinet in the middle of the ashes and charred timbers. He was relieved to find all the ranch and estate paperwork unharmed. He almost forgave Jed for leaving Rachel a house that turned out to be such a firetrap. He told the men to clean the filing cabinet up, take it to his cabin and leave it on the porch.
He and Rachel could go through the documents together.
When he’d left that morning, she was sleeping peacefully. He’d dressed and watched her as the first light of dawn lit the bedroom. She looked so small and vulnerable and he thanked God she was safe. When he’d searched the burning house, looking for her, he’d been wild with fear that she was hurt.
Or worse.
He returned to the cabin to tell Rachel he’d found the files. She wasn’t in the den or kitchen, and she wasn’t in his bed, which meant she could only be in the bathroom. He paused to listen and heard water splashing. His cock hardened. She was in the bathtub. Bathing.
Damn…
Having her in his home and trying to keep his distance was torture. He leaned against the doorframe and listened some more, imagining her sitting in the tub, rubbing soap over her arms and full, lush breasts.
She was wary. He saw that. She thought he wanted the land and only eyed her as a casual, possible hook-up. He’d never wanted anything more than Rachel by his side. He didn’t do anything casually. Not anymore. He might have played the field when he was younger, but one-night stands had lost their appeal long ago.
Now he wanted forever. A wife. A home. Children. He wanted it all and not with just anyone, but with the aggravating, beautiful, strong and fragile woman bathing in his tub. H
is too-young, innocent bride. What would she say if he opened the door and strolled into the bathroom. He smiled, but resisted the urge. In his heart, he was a gentleman and he didn’t want to intrude on a lady’s bath, even if the lady was his wife.
“Rachel,” he said softly, tapping on the door.
There was a sharp intake of breath. “Yes…?”
“Can I open the door?” Maybe he wasn’t a complete gentleman.
“Okay, but don’t come in. Stay there.”
He pushed the door open and leaned against the doorframe. Rachel sat in the tub, only visible from the shoulders up. Her hair, most of it piled on top of her head, was a gorgeous mess. A few strands had escaped and clung to her back.
“You’re taking a bath,” he said, like it wasn’t completely obvious.
An impish grin curved her sweet lips. “Why Thirty-three… they told me you were the smartest foreman in these parts, but I didn’t believe it until now. Yes, that’s what this is called. Taking a bath.”
“You going to put your nightie back on?”
She lifted a shoulder. “I don’t have any clothes.”
“I’ve thought about that a time or two.”
“I need to get some.”
“You reckon?”
She frowned. “I can’t live in a nightie.”
“I don’t mind.”
“I can’t even leave the cabin in a nightie.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think you should.”
“You’re not being much of a gentleman,” she said with a frown.
He scoffed. “I’m being a total gentleman.”
“Can you go to town?” she asked, her tone soft. “And buy me a few things.”
“Maybe.”
“I have to ask you. I don’t have a choice. I can’t send one of the men to shop for a bra and panties.”
His cock throbbed. This woman was going to make him lose his mind, sitting in a bathtub talking about unmentionables.
“I don’t want the men to even think about your bras or panties.”
“So you’ll go?”
“Eventually. How are you feeling today? Sore?”
“A little. The bath helps. What do you mean eventually?”
“I figured I need to go get you a wedding band.”
“I need something to wear. That’s my main problem right now.”
A waft of floral scent hit him. Delicate and feminine, it fanned the lust that clawed inside him. It would be so simple to cross the room and lift her from the water. He’d carry her to his bed and keep her there for days.
“Tell me your sizes, and I’ll go pick up a few things.”
“I wrote them down. They’re on the breakfast table.”
“Everything? Shoe size too?”
She tipped her head back and closed her eyes. “Oh, my gosh, my life. I can’t believe you’re going shopping for me. I forgot the shoe size. Five. Don’t buy me heels, okay?”
“I’m buying you boots. You’re a rancher now, not some sorority girl… Twenty-one.”
He pushed off the doorframe and crossed the bathroom. She watched his approach with dismay and threw her hands up as if trying to fend him off.
“Go away. I have scars. You know I don’t want you to see them.”
Leaning down, he clasped her hair. “I don’t give a damn about scars. You think you’re the only one walking around with a few scars? Kiss me or I’m buying you granny underwear. Swear to God.”
Tipping her head, he lowered to brush a kiss across her lips. “Kiss me, Rachel.”
She let out a soft moan and softened her lips, allowing the kiss at first and after a long, tantalizing moment, welcoming his kiss.
“Good girl,” he murmured. “In exchange for a kiss like that, from my virgin bride, I’ll buy you pretty panties.”
With extreme effort, he kept his gaze from drifting down to her naked body. Instead he held her eyes with his and smiled. “You can wear my bathrobe while I’m gone. Make yourself at home. Get on my laptop and order anything you want. I’ll leave a credit card on the breakfast table.”
She smiled. “You’re not afraid of me seeing what you’re doing online?”
He grimaced. “Ah, shit. All those ranches I’ve been checking out. Now you’re going to know. All the land-porn I’ve been looking at that’s giving me a hard-on.”
“Is that all?” she asked, clearly skeptical.
“I’m not that complicated, Rachel, and right now, I have everything I want.”
He let his hand dip into the water and splashed. “Don’t let your bath water get cold, sweetheart.”
Chapter Eleven
Rachel
Luke returned that afternoon with several bags from a local department store, stuffed full of purchases and a wolfish grin on his face as he walked into the cabin. “That was a little more fun than I thought it would be.”
Rachel followed him into the bedroom. She’d spent the day dressed in his bathrobe. It was far too big on her. The hem dragged on the ground and she could have wound the belt around her waist twice. She was eager to put on some real clothing but worried about what Luke had purchased.
“I’m almost afraid to see what you bought.”
He frowned. “Why are you afraid?”
“Are you going to dress me in something skimpy?”
“Of course, not. You’re my wife. Why would I want other men looking at what’s mine?”
“Your pretend wife, you mean.”
“I don’t do pretend anything. I don’t even know what that word means.” He held up his left hand to show the wedding band he wore.
She stared in amazement, unsure how to respond. The gold band glinted and made her breath catch in her throat. A wedding band. She’d never imagined he would agree to a ring, much less go and buy one for himself.
He turned away and dumped the bag on the bed, spilling out the contents. He’d bought her several pairs of blue jeans, a few shirts, panties, bras and nighties.
“I’m taking you dancing on Friday night. We’re going to the Magnolia to meet Lucille and Tanner and Molly.”
Luke had told her about Lucille Rusk and how she’d taken him in when his grandfather passed away. Lucille sounded like such a nice lady and Rachel liked her even without having met her. Anyone who had cared for Luke had to be a wonderful person.
“I hope Lucille likes me,” she said.
“She’s going to love you. Me – she’s going to want to kick my ass for getting married without telling her or letting her throw a big party, but you, she’ll love. Molly and Tanner, too.”
“I haven’t told my mother,” Rachel said. “She’s on a cruise ship in the Greek Islands, trying to save marriage number five.”
“Your momma’s probably going to want to kick my ass, too.”
Rachel smiled. It was impossible to imagine any woman would attempt to push Luke around. Probably not many men, either. He towered over her. His shirt stretched over an expanse of solid muscle, a body hewn from hard work and long days.
“She doesn’t care what I do unless I sell the ranch. Then she’ll get interested in a hurry.”
“And that’s not happening.”
He pulled a boot box from a bag and flipped off the lid. “I bought you some boots. You can’t go dancing in sneakers or flip-flops.”
The boots were a dark, chocolate leather with embroidery along the top. Rachel traced her finger along the stitching. “Pretty…thank you.”
She flushed with embarrassment. The boots were pretty and it warmed her heart to think this big, rugged cowboy had not only shopped for her, but picked out a pair of boots that she loved. How could he have known?
“You’re going to look great in these.” He tossed the box aside. “I also went into the lingerie store in town, bought you a few pretty little things.”
She reached into the pile of clothing and drew out a bra and held it up. Lavender lace, the cups were a gauzy, whisper-thin material that would be completely see-through. A far
cry from the sensible nude bras she usually bought.
“I’ve never had a bra this color,” she murmured.
“Pretty color, if you ask me.” His face colored. “The best part is the little thingamajig right in front.”
She smiled at his obvious embarrassment. “The clasp?”
“I guess that’s what you call it,” he muttered.
“Did someone help you with this?”
“Yeah, thank God. And I was grateful I had my wedding band on. I felt like a fish out of water, let me tell you. I was the only man in there and everyone was giving me funny looks.”
He scrubbed his hand down his face and let out a huff. “Now I wish I’d stayed a little longer. They had a nice little black number just like this purple one.”
Before she could say anything, he pulled a velvet pouch from his pocket. “I got you a ring too, but I wasn’t sure about your size.”
The ring looked tiny as he clasped it between his thumb and forefinger. He took her hand in his. “First time I ever laid eyes on you, I thought you were about the prettiest girl I’d ever seen and it made me mad as hell.”
She blinked. “Mad?”
“Pissed off was more like it.”
“Aw… Luke, that’s sweet. I’d almost forgotten how you’d scowled at me as you trotted your horse past the house.”
“I thought that little brat has no business inheriting a ranch. I should go back and tell her all about the six-foot rattler I’d shot that morning.”
Rachel nodded. “But did you share that nice snake story? No, you just kept on your merry way, giving me the cold shoulder for a few more weeks. And all along I thought you didn’t like me.”
“I didn’t like you. I wanted to take you to bed and then send you back home.”
“There’s only so much sweet-talk a girl can take. Are you going to give me that ring or not?”
“Somewhere along the way I decided I’d like having you here.”
“Probably about the time Mr. Saunders explained that half the ranch had your name on it.”