"Could be worse."
She smiled as they began to sway to the music. "A few weeks ago you wouldn't have said that."
He looked down at her. "A few weeks ago you wouldn't have danced with me."
"It's not as if I have a choice," she said primly. "We have to keep up appearances after all."
"Let's give 'em something to talk about."
"Kiel, I--"
He bent her back over his arm, low, lower, and then lower still until she was laughing with surprise and pleasure. He brought her back up with one fluid movement then swept her into a series of turns that had everyone stomping and whistling their approval.
"Music's over," MacDougal called out to the amusement of all. "Time to sit down, folks."
"They're in love," said Imelda Mulroney. "Isn't it romantic?"
"Imelda Mulroney talks a lot," Kiel remarked as they drove away from the roadhouse three hours later.
Lexi fastened her seatbelt and chuckled. "She means well."
"How many times did she ask if Kelsey was going to have a baby brother or sister this spring?"
"I stopped counting at seven."
"You did a good job," he said, shooting her a look in the darkened car.
"So did you."
"I think they believed we're newlyweds."
"We are newlyweds," she pointed out with a soft laugh. "Just not for the reasons they think."
"What's that about a birthday party tomorrow?"
Lexi smiled. "Kelsey's so excited. Imelda's grandson is having a party and she's invited."
"I don't know about that--"
Lexi rummaged in her pocket for a piece of paper that contained a map. "All I'd have to do is drive straight down the road right into town. It shouldn't be hard to find."
They fell quiet for a few miles. Kelsey slept peacefully in the back seat. There was something hypnotic about the dark ribbon of road unfolding before the Jeep's headlights, washed silver by the glow of the moon that rode high in the sky. He still wasn't accustomed to the sharp clarity of an Alaskan night. A tree three hundred yards down the road was as clear to him as one that was close enough to touch, wreaking havoc with perspective and judgment. And that still didn't take into account the sheer, mind-blowing beauty of the northern lights, that shower of crystal in the obsidian sky.
A man couldn't trust his own senses in this strange and beautiful land, not until he'd grown accustomed to the wonder of it all.
Next to him Lexi rolled down her window and looked out. "...so amazing..." he heard her whisper.
Her pale blond hair shimmered in the moonlight. There was a look of enchantment on her beautiful face, such wonder, that he found himself filled with a sense of hope he'd thought gone forever from his life.
You're amazing, he thought, gripping the wheel more tightly. He didn't know anything about her except the way she made him feel and suddenly that seemed more than enough.
"Look," he said, braking to a stop. "Over there!" He pointed toward a heavily wooded area to the left.
"I don't see anything."
"About thirty degrees left of the fender."
She made a face and unbuckled her seatbelt. "Sometimes you talk like a physicist." Her grin softened her words. "English please."
He cupped her chin with his hand and turned her head in the right direction. "There."
Her slow intake of breath made him smile. "Ohh."
The wolf watched them from the side of the road, eyes glittering and wary. He was a magnificent animal, broad across the shoulders, heavily muscled, a fierce intelligence evident in the proud lift of his head as he assessed them.
A moment later the wolf was gone, vanished back into the endless forest.
They drove the rest of the way in silence. But this silence was different from the silences they'd encountered in the past. There was nothing confrontational about it, nothing antagonistic. This silence was charged with something much more dangerous: an awareness of each other that deepened with every mile.
By the time he pulled into the rutted drive next to the house, Lexi found it difficult to breathe. Anticipation was building inside her chest, a sense of inevitability she couldn't define. She'd never felt this way before. Each movement she made was fraught with meaning. Every breath she struggled to draw was filled with possibilities.
Ridiculous, she thought as she followed Kiel and a sleeping Kelsey into the house. All of this emphasis on being newlyweds was having an effect on her. And why not? Actors and actresses were always confusing theatre with reality and that was exactly what was happening with her and Kiel.
She and Kiel were the leads in a very personal drama, one that she had to see through to the final curtain. Before tonight she had been focused on the outcome, her inheritance. She'd never given any thought to emotional complications, mostly because she'd never believed there could be any.
Kiel switched on the light in the front room. Kelsey was sound asleep in his arms, her head resting against his broad chest, her tiny arms wrapped around his neck. She looked so tiny, so vulnerable, so sweetly secure in her father's arms, that Lexi blinked back tears.
"I'm going to put her down for the night," he said. "I think we can skip a bath tonight, don't you?"
He nodded. "She's had a big day."
"A great day," Lexi amended. "She was so happy that you spent the afternoon with her." Watching Kiel and his daughter play the video games at Ranaghan's Road House had brought back so many happy memories of her own time with her late father. "Life is so short," she said, embarrassed by the quaver in her voice. "Enjoy her while you can."
Their eyes met. There was an expression in his that she had never seen before. Turning away, she headed for the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.
The house seemed different somehow. Kiel couldn't quantify the difference but that didn't mean it wasn't real. The way the wind whistled past the house, the creaking sounds the floorboards made as he walked through the hall, the smells of wood smoke and lilacs. It was all familiar, all strange, all miraculous.
He felt as if everything he saw and touched and heard was brand new, as if he'd been walking through the past few years with his senses shut down to everything but the bare necessities of survival. Only Kelsey had been able to get beyond the boundaries he'd erected after Helena left them for another life. Another man.
"Dangerous stuff," he muttered as he walked through the hallway toward the kitchen. That's how a man got into trouble, believing in what he knew wasn't true or real or lasting.
Like his marriage to Alexa Grace.
Like the way she made him feel.
Hopeful.
Hungry.
Too reckless for his own damn good.
Something had happened between them in the roadhouse. An awareness of a deeper need that had nothing to do with the business arrangement they called a marriage. Sexual chemistry played a part in it but not even the powerful lure of sex could explain the tightness in his chest or the aching loneliness inside his soul. He only knew that when he was with Lexi, he felt alive in a way he'd believed lost to him forever.
There was only one thing to do: he had to put a stop to it and the sooner the better.
Like right now.
It was a simple chore, making coffee. An enjoyable chore. In a pinch, even Kelsey could make coffee.
Tonight, however, Lexi was at a loss. She spilled water all over the floor. She scattered ground coffee beans across the countertop. Three filters, mangled beyond recognition, were sticking out of the trashcan under the sink. She was working on a fourth, trying to settle it down in the basket, when she grew aware of Kiel standing behind her.
"Problem?" he asked, his voice a long, slow, lazy rumble.
She shook her head, trying to blink away the idiotic tears welling in her eyes. "Only if you consider terminal clumsiness a problem."
The sound of his boots against the tile floor seemed to echo in the quiet kitchen as he approached.
"Let me do it."
H
e was next to her, so close that she caught his scent of soap and spice and the sharp tang of anticipation.
"I'm all thumbs," she said, not moving away as he reached across her body for the box of filters. "I don't know what's wrong."
His hands were large, beautifully formed. Strong hands. She felt dizzy, as if the world she knew were spinning out of control and there wasn't a thing she could do to stop it. He opened the filter, placed it in the pot, measured out the ground coffee beans. Simple gestures but she watched them, fascinated.
He pressed the start button on the machine then looked at her long and hard. "So why are you crying?" he asked.
Lying was the simplest answer to a question more complicated than she cared to acknowledge. It occurred to her that she could lie to him. They meant nothing to each other. Honesty had nothing to do with the bargain they'd struck.
But she made a mistake. She looked into his eyes, beyond his beauty, and something deep inside her heart began to thaw.
"My father," she said simply. "I still miss him."
Her words startled him. For a moment he wondered if this was part of the PAX-created scenario they were living, but there was no mistaking the bone-deep loneliness behind her words.
"How long?" he asked.
"Almost three years." She brushed a hand across her eyes and he noted the shadows beneath them. "When I saw you with Kelsey, I--" She shrugged her shoulders and he struggled with the urge to pull her into his arms and hold her close.
"Daddy's girl?" he asked, his tone softening the words.
She nodded. "Unashamedly so. He spoiled me rotten and loved doing it."
"Is that when you--" He caught himself. He'd been about to ask if that was when she hooked up with PAX. From the beginning she'd seemed an unlikely candidate but he knew first hand the places where loneliness could take you. They were on dangerous enough ground as it was. One step further and he might compromise everything he'd worked so hard to achieve. "Forget I said anything."
She smiled briefly. "I could not ask you the same question."
"Doesn't much matter, does it?"
"Not very," she agreed. "We're both here."
"Yeah," he said. "We're both here."
He took a step toward her. She took a step toward him. For the first time they found themselves in each other's arms for no one's benefit but their own. No audience. Nothing to prove. Nothing to be gained from the embrace except the knowledge that they weren't alone, that the world wasn't a dark and cold place, that if only for this moment in time, in this place, life was sweet and good.
This time she opened her mouth for him. Her lips parted. His tongue found hers, drawing her quickly into battle. She tasted the way he'd dreamed she would, sweet and hot, and her taste made him hunger for more.
She melted against him shamelessly. A warning went off somewhere deep in her mind. You're playing with fire, Alexa Grace....
Yes, she thought, as his hands slid up her ribcage and to her breasts. She was playing with fire and she knew it and more than anything she wanted to burn.
He broke the kiss, drawing his lips down the column of her throat. "What do you want?" he asked, his voice a low growl. "Tell me and it's yours."
How could she tell him when her mind was spiraling out of her body, floating freely into space. "I don't know--" her voice caught on the lie. "Everything," she said after a moment. "I want everything."
It was all that he needed to hear. Grabbing her by the waist he lifted her off the ground then held her against his body, his powerful hands cupping her bottom.
"Wrap your legs around me, Alexa."
She heard his voice through a fog of desire so intense she feared she would die of it. She did as he ordered, instinct, if not experience, guiding her. He leaned back against the counter and she felt the heat of his body against the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. For weeks she'd been fantasizing about the way his body would feel against hers but her dreams had fallen far short of reality. All of her dreams had. It was more than touch. It was taste and sound and smell and the deep blue of his eyes as he watched her watching him.
She trembled against him, making him feel all-powerful and oddly protective at the same time. What he wanted was to lay her on the scarred maple table, rip her panties off with his teeth, then bury himself so deep inside her that when she came he'd feel her climax rippling around him.
What he did was stroke her, move against her, kiss her in a way that left no doubt that he wanted more.
Much more.
It wasn't enough for her.
Not the deep wet kisses that stole her breath.
Not the powerful feel of his hands against her hips.
Not the fine and painful tension that coiled more tightly inside her body with each second, each moment, that passed.
She wanted...something. Everything. She wanted him, this stranger who was her husband. She wanted him recklessly, passionately, now.
She arched against him, aching for the sense of completion that eluded her. "Not here," she whispered. "Kelsey might--"
His kiss stopped her words. Before the kiss ended they were in the bedroom with the door shut behind them and that wide and welcoming bed they'd shared but never shared at all waiting for them.
They fell together to the mattress, limbs tangled, hearts thundering in anticipation. They struggled with their clothes, battling zippers and buttons and snaps, everything that delayed the wondrous shock of skin against skin.
There were no words, no whispered endearments, nothing but the blistering, primal heat that carried them closer and closer to the heart of the sun.
The sight of him, naked and erect, both thrilled and terrified her.
The sight of her, thighs parted, almost brought him to the brink.
He cupped her mound with his hand, feeling her heat against his skin, the slick wetness of her excitement.
Her back arched as she pressed against him, urging him on. She stroked his back with eager hands, found his nipples with her palms, then trailed down lower and lower until she encircled him. He was all heat, all throbbing life.
"Now," she whispered.
"Not yet." He got up and looked in the top drawer of the nightstand for a condom. "Great wedding present after all." He opened the packet, rolled the condom over his erection, and then was back beside her a moment later.
The last of her doubts vanished.
He spread her thighs and poised himself between them.
She began to tremble with need. "I--"
"Shh."
He reached down and stroked her with his hand.
"You're ready."
"I know," she said on a moan.
The tip of his erect penis pressed against the soft folds of her labia. She opened. He moved slowly into the tight warmth of her body. It couldn't be...was she--
"You're a virgin."
She met his eyes. "You sound surprised."
"I am. You're a beautiful woman. I thought...." It didn't matter what he'd thought.
"I know what I'm doing." Her voice was soft but strong. "I want you to be the first man I make love with."
The words acted upon him like an aphrodisiac. Only the urgent desire to make her first time as pleasurable as she deserved it to be kept him from climaxing right then and there.
But there was so much he wanted to show her, the beautiful simplicity, the dark ecstasy that a man and woman could find in each other's arms.
He pressed harder, harder still, and the barrier was gone. She bit back a cry and he covered her face with kisses both hot and tender and filled with promise.
"Ride with me, Alexa Grace," he murmured into her ear. "Let me take you the rest of the way."
Chapter 11
When it was over, when she could think again, Lexi said, "I had no idea. I mean I've read about it and I've wondered about it, but I never ever thought--"
"You had a good time." He rolled them over onto their sides and held her close.
"Yes," she said, snuggling
closer to his warmth. "I had a good time...a great time...a fabulous time." She kissed the underside of his chin. "When can we do it again?"
"Soon as my batteries recharge."
She grinned up at him. "And how long does that take?"
He drew his hand along the curve of her hip. "Today it won't take very long."
She leaned up on one elbow. "Is that a compliment?"
"No," he said, bringing his mouth close to her ear. "This is."
She felt his words from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. "Thank you."
"You weren't that polite a few minutes ago."
"I was greedy," she said, running her hand down his chest, over his taut belly, then lower still. "I'm still greedy."
"Greed is good," he said. "I like greed."
She stroked him slowly, coaxing him back to amazing dimensions.
"Quite a trick," she said, feeling him throb against her hand.
"Glad you like it."
"I do like it." More than I'd ever imagined.
"Let's see how you like it from another perspective."
Holding her by the waist he rolled onto his back. She laughed with surprise and delight as she found herself straddling his body.
"You call the shots this time, Alexa Grace." His voice was husky, filled with promise. "How fast, how slow, how deep."
She was dizzy with longing. His words came to her from a distant place. They had no meaning. The only thing that was real, the only thing that mattered, was the ancient, rhythmic call of the blood.
Connecticut
Nine a.m.
"Something's wrong," Ryder O'Neal paced the length of the communications center. "Brown always transmits a progress report at 01:00, his time." He looked at the huge clock overhead. "He's three hours late."
The communications technician shrugged. "So maybe he's hot on the trail of something and lost track of time."
"You don't lose track of time in this business, Winslow. Not when it comes to communications."
"Stuff happens," Winslow said. Despite her casual words, her dark eyes mirrored Ryder's own concern. "You should know that."
The Bride Came C.O.D. (Bachelor Fathers) Page 12