The Marriage Profile

by Metsy Hingle

  Her eagerness inflamed him. He wanted her. Wanted her more than he’d ever wanted another woman in his life. And he came within a breath of stripping off her jeans and taking her right there. But they weren’t two reckless teenagers in the throes of first passion. This was Angela. This was his ex-wife. She deserved better. So did he.

  Justin gulped in a breath and somehow found the strength to stop. Capturing her fingers, he brought them up to his lips and kissed them with a gentleness he was far from feeling.

  She looked up at him, her brows creased in question, her eyes glazed with confusion.

  He dragged in another breath, tried to clear his scorched senses and said, “Angel, sweetheart, we can’t do this. We have to stop.”

  Six

  Angela blinked as Justin’s words roared like thunder in her ears.

  “Angel, I never thought—I wasn’t planning—”

  She shook her head, tried to clear her overloaded senses, not wanting to believe what Justin was saying, desperate to believe she’d misunderstood him.

  “We can’t.”

  But she hadn’t misunderstood, she realized as she heard the rejection in his voice, read the regret in his green eyes. Justin didn’t want her. She’d all but thrown herself at him, and he didn’t want her. A strangled cry escaped her lips as pain and humiliation ripped through her. Suddenly aware of her near-naked state, she jerked her hands free and clutched at her shirt. Blinking back tears, she fumbled with the buttons, not even bothering to refasten her bra.

  “Aw, hell!”

  Ignoring him, Angela tried to get her fingers to stop shaking long enough for her to button her shirt.

  “Angel, look at me,” he pleaded.

  But she didn’t dare look at him, afraid of what she’d see if she did. Her eyes burned with the effort it took not to cry. But if the tears started, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop them. And she had no intention of letting Justin Wainwright know just how deeply his rejection had hurt her.

  “Dammit, look at me,” Justin commanded. And when she continued to ignore him, he grabbed her by the shoulders and repeated, “I said, look at me!”

  She yanked her gaze up to his. “I don’t take orders from you, Wainwright,” she spat out, temper taking the edge off her pain. “Now, get your hands off of me.”

  “Not until you let me explain.”

  “There’s nothing to explain,” she informed him.

  “Yes, there is.”

  “Not as far as I’m concerned,” she replied, and tried to shrug off his grasp without any success. “I made a mistake—one that I very much regret. And since I’m feeling like a bit of a fool at the moment, I’d appreciate it if you’d leave.”

  “No.”

  His flat refusal threw her. She’d never been one to remain angry for long. It simply wasn’t in her nature. And already her temper was ebbing, giving way to the hurt. Tears welled up in her eyes again. She blinked hard, tried to keep them at bay. She’d sooner chew nails than let Justin see her crying over him. “Fine. Then you stay, and I’ll leave.”

  When she tried to move past him, he blocked her path.

  “Justin, please, I’m not up for this,” she told him, wanting to crawl in a hole somewhere when she heard her voice crack. She swallowed and tried again. “You’ve had your fun. If humiliating me was your intention, you’ve succeeded. I wanted to make love with you, and you turned me down. There, I’ve said it. You win. So now, please just go.”

  “You think what happened between us a minute ago is some kind of game to me? That I stopped because I don’t want you?” he demanded, the fury in his voice no match for the storm in his eyes.

  “I…” She spied the muscle ticking angrily in his jaw, noted the flat line of his mouth. “Isn’t that why you stopped?”

  “No, that is not why I stopped,” he said with a fierceness that made her tremble. “I stopped because I didn’t come here tonight prepared for anything like this to happen between us, and I didn’t have any way to protect you.”

  Surprise replaced the bitter taste of his rejection and went a long way in soothing the hurt. He had stopped because he’d been concerned for her, had feared he would put her at risk? That he would do so and not simply expect her to be responsible for herself sent a wave of warmth flooding through Angela. In that moment she knew without a doubt that she still loved Justin.

  “How could you think, even for a minute, that I don’t want you?” He tightened his fingers on her shoulders, dragged her so close that Angela could see the flecks of black in his green eyes. “How could you not see that I want you so damn much I can hardly breathe?”

  Angela’s pulse leapt at his admission. “I’m sorry,” she told him, and wrapped her arms around him.

  He groaned and held her hard against him. “You’re not the only one.” He sighed and loosened the embrace. “I’d better get out of here before I do something totally stupid and irresponsible and try to convince us both that just this one time won’t matter.” He stroked his hand over her hair, pressed a kiss to her head. “Next time, I promise you I’ll be prepared.”

  But what if there isn’t a next time?

  The voice inside Angela sent a shiver of unease through her, and before she allowed reason to dictate her heart, she blurted out, “Stay.”

  “Aw, sweetheart, don’t do this to me.”

  “But it’s all right. I mean, there wouldn’t be anything irresponsible about your staying.”

  Justin eased her away from him a bit. His eyes searched her face, and Angela knew that he was remembering that she’d been unable to tolerate the oral contraceptives in the early days of their marriage. As they’d both learned later, she’d had no reason to worry since she’d been unable to conceive. “Are you saying that you’re on the pill now?”

  “No,” she said, lowering her gaze. “That’s not what I meant.” The truth was she didn’t know if she still had an adverse reaction to the contraceptives or not. Since she hadn’t been involved with anyone since their divorce, she’d seen no reason to worry about it.

  He frowned. “Then I don’t understand.”

  “Don’t you remember all the fertility treatments and the in-vitro procedures I went through when we tried to have a baby?” And none of them had worked. Nothing had. Between her recurring endometriosis and her low ovulation she’d been told her chances of ever conceiving were slim to none. It’s why after the last procedure failed she’d decided to let Justin go.

  “I remember.”

  “Well, nothing’s changed. My doctor in San Antonio said the same thing all the specialists did. That it’s not likely I’ll ever be able to conceive a child normally.” Angela swallowed. “What I’m trying to tell you is that I don’t want to wait. I want to make love with you now. Tonight.”

  “Angela—”

  “Please, Justin. Make love with me.”

  She waited a heartbeat, two, and when he said nothing, she knew that she had lost. He was going to refuse her. Disappointment gave way to resignation. Justin was a man who lived by the book. He followed orders, obeyed rules. He believed in things like responsibility, honor and doing what was right. He was not a man who made reckless decisions. He was not going to make one now. Not for himself or for her. She couldn’t blame him. His noble streak was one of the things that made him who he was, and it was also one of the reasons that she loved him, she reminded herself as she started to turn away.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  Angela’s gaze shot to his, and what she read there made her heart pound. Taking her face in his hands, he lowered his mouth to hers. He kissed her. Deeply. Tenderly. Thoroughly.

  Overcome with emotion, Angela roped her arms around his neck and tried to show him what she hadn’t dared to tell him. That she loved him. That she had always loved him. Only him. That she’d missed him. That she wanted him. One kiss spun into another, and then another still, each one deeper, hotter, hungrier than the one before.

  Still drugged by his kis
ses, wanting him to kiss her again, she didn’t protest when Justin lifted her and sat her atop the desk. Slowly he began to unbutton her shirt. The heat in his eyes as he looked at her sent a trill of excitement up her spine. The hands that cupped her breasts were hard and calloused, not the hands of a man who sat behind a desk and pushed papers. They were the hands of a man who worked hard, be it helping to herd cattle at the ranch or by risking his own life to keep the county and its people safe. But there was such a gentleness in the way he touched her that it made Angela tremble. She was a grown woman, she reasoned. She’d been married to this man, was no stranger to his touch. Yet each caress, each kiss was somehow sweeter, more special than she’d remembered.

  “You’re so beautiful, so perfect,” he whispered, and took her into his mouth.

  The heat that had started in her belly before he’d even kissed her now ran like molten lava through her system. His teeth closed over her nipple, and Angela clutched his head to her, shivered as the waves of pleasure-pain coursed through her. When he lifted his head, the hunger in his eyes sent desire skyrocketing through her.

  Justin took her mouth again, savaged it. Tongues tangled. Teeth scraped. Fingers stroked, kneaded. He had her out of her jeans and panties with a speed that would have shocked her had she not been just as impatient to get him out of his clothes. She had just managed to get his zipper down when he cupped her mound and slid his finger inside her. Angela gasped and nearly came apart at the seams.

  “Easy, sweetheart.”

  Flushed, embarrassed at how near the brink she was, she knew a brief moment of annoyance at the smile in his voice. But then he stroked her again. And she couldn’t think, could barely breathe. Her vision blurred. She bit down on her lip to keep from crying out as waves of pleasure whispered just out of reach. After a moment when she could breathe again, Angela decided that two could play this game. Easing her hand inside his briefs, she closed her fist around him. And then it was her turn to smile as a groan rumbled through him.

  “Where’s the bedroom?” he demanded, his voice hoarse with need, his body taut with impatience.

  “Too far,” she whispered just before nipping the lobe of his ear. “Make love to me, Justin. Here. Now.”

  He made some sound, part hiss, part moan. She couldn’t be sure which. And her heart nearly sank with disappointment when he drew away from her. Then without saying a word, he toed off his boots, shrugged out of his jeans and kicked them aside.

  She had to sketch him. The notion popped into her head as she watched him, took in the ripple of muscles, the sun-bronzed skin, the golden hair and gleam in his emerald eyes. Then Justin shed his briefs and the sight of his rigid shaft thrusting up from the wiry dark gold hair wiped every thought from her brain. As he moved between her thighs, anticipation shivered through her.

  “Are you sure?” he asked her, his fierce expression belying the gentleness in his voice.

  That even now he would still give her the choice only made her love him more. “I’m sure,” she told him.

  He entered her in one swift stroke that had her clutching at his shoulders and her body poised on the brink once more. With his hands anchoring her at the hips and his mouth on hers, he began to move. In and out, long slow strokes, nearly withdrawing completely before entering her again. Each stroke a little harder, a little deeper than the one before. Each one tantalizingly slow and nearly driving her mad with the ripples of sensation. Impatient, Angela arched her back, dug her nails into his skin, urging him to hurry. Justin refused to be hurried.

  “Not yet,” he told her, his voice tight, his back slick with sweat.

  Knowing Justin as she did, she realized he was holding back for her. He wanted to make this special for her, to ensure her pleasure came before his own. She loved him for that, but she’d never been the patient type. When he slid into her again, she clamped her feminine muscles around him. She knew a moment of satisfaction at his groan, heard his grumbled “Someday I’m going to teach you how much fun it can be to go slow.”

  “But not today.”

  “No, not today,” he growled before slamming into her again, and again and again. Each thrust was deeper, harder and faster than the one before.

  The first waves of sensation hit her, tossed her high, sent pleasure roaring through her like the rushing surf. Wrapping her legs around him, Angela clung to Justin as she went hurling head- and heart-first into the storm. Moments later, his body stiffened and he thrust into her a final time before he shouted her name and followed her into the stormy seas.

  “I really had planned to make good on that promise,” Justin told her hours later as he lay in Angela’s bed with her draped on top of him.

  “Unless I’m mistaken, Sheriff, you did make good on your promise. Several times, in fact,” she informed him. “Of course, if you’re sure you don’t need more time to recover—”

  Justin laughed and flipped her over onto her back. Feeling totally sated and happier than he had in years, he pinned her beneath him and nipped at her sassy mouth. “I was referring to my promise to make love to you slowly.”

  “You don’t hear me complaining, do you?” she asked, a satisfied smile curving her lips.

  He laughed again. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in bed with a woman who made him laugh. And quick as a snap he realized that the last time he’d felt this way was when he’d been married to Angela.

  “Justin?” She said his name on a stifled yawn.

  Sobered by the realization, he stared into her sleepy blue eyes. “I wanted to make it special for you, Angel. You deserve for it to be special.”

  She held his face in her hands, gently kissed him and said, “You did make it special. Making love with you was always special.”

  Then why had she left him?

  He wanted to ask the question, but worried what her answer would be.

  She yawned again. “I’m sorry,” she said, her eyelids fluttering sleepily. “But you wore me out, cowboy. I’m whipped.”

  He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Then get some sleep,” he whispered, and started to ease off of her.

  “Will you stay?” she asked, reaching for him.

  “Yeah, I’ll stay,” he promised, and tucked her against his side.

  She tangled one of her legs with his and snuggled up against his shoulder. Within moments she was out cold. Smoothing her hair with his fingers, he gathered her in his embrace and contented himself with the sound of her breathing as it settled into the steady rhythm of sleep. While she had changed in some ways, her ability to zonk out at the drop of a hat was not one of them, he thought with a grin. Too bad he couldn’t claim that same trait, because he was bone tired and dawn was only a few hours away.

  Justin closed his eyes, tried to make his mind go blank. Yet despite the fact that he’d put in a long day and had spent a good portion of the night sating his passions with Angela, sleep continued to elude him. After ten minutes he opened his eyes and admitted it wasn’t going to happen. While his body craved rest, his mind refused to shut down. Probably because for the first time in a long time, he was thinking about the future. A future that went beyond his job and family.

  Who was he kidding? He was thinking about a future with Angela.

  Surprisingly the admission didn’t disturb him nearly as much as he’d thought it would. What did disturb him was the fact that he had a great deal going on right now, with the rumblings within the Mercado crime family since Del Brio had replaced Carmine, the open murder investigation of Carl Bridges, the kidnapped baby, the potential ramifications if Haley Mercado really was alive and that missing child belonged to her.

  While he had made light of Angela’s theory that Haley was the woman Luke had slept with and the mother of the missing baby, he was almost sure it was true. With any luck, he’d be able to confirm those suspicions soon enough. He should tell Angela. He wanted to tell Angela. And he hadn’t told her because of Ricky, he admitted.

  Justin grimaced. He didn’t lik
e the hotheaded Italian, had never gotten along with the man. Perhaps Hawk had been right that it was his own jealousy of Ricky’s relationship with Angela that was at the core of that friction. Ricky had known Angela longer than he had, and Angela was fiercely loyal to the other man. Which meant that he couldn’t put her in the middle. She would want to tell Ricky, and he couldn’t afford for Ricky to know—not without putting a lot of innocent people at risk.

  He looked down at the woman sleeping in his arms, felt a fist tighten around his heart. Somehow he would have to work with her to find the child without sharing full information. Angela wouldn’t be happy about it when she learned he’d held out on her. But it wouldn’t stop her from doing her job. It couldn’t stop him from doing his, either. They would find the little girl, he vowed. He refused to believe otherwise. But once her job was done, would Angela want to stay? Suddenly the thought of her leaving rent a hole the size of Texas in his gut.

  So he would have to convince her to stay. While he didn’t delude himself into thinking that the mind-blowing sex meant Angela was looking for a reconciliation, he knew her well enough to know that she’d never have slept with him unless her feelings were involved. It was a start, he reasoned, and breathed a little easier.

  Staring up at the ceiling, he ran his fingers up and down her spine and considered the obstacles that lay ahead. Eventually, they would have to talk. He’d do his best to put to rest her concerns about the children issue. There was always adoption, and if that didn’t appeal to her, he’d be content being an uncle. Rose and Matt Carson had already provided him with one nephew. Between his sister Susan’s marriage to Michael O’Day and Hawk’s marriage to Jenny, he figured it probably wouldn’t be too long before he had another nephew or niece to spoil, as well.

  Justin smiled at the idea of a horde of little ones racing around the ranch calling for their uncle Justin. The smile disappeared almost as quickly as it had come as he realized that the logistics of his and Angela’s jobs was something else that they would have to work out. Despite all the headaches that came with being sheriff, he enjoyed his work. He liked the feeling that he was giving something back to the community he’d grown up in by keeping the county safe. It was home. His family was here. He’d been born in Lone Star County, and it was where he’d expected to die someday. But Angela didn’t have those same ties. Her career hadn’t taken off until she’d gone to San Antonio. Would she be willing to give it up to move back here with him? What if she wasn’t? His arms tightened around her. Would he leave Mission Creek to be with her? As much as he hated the idea of leaving, he hated the idea of staying and being without her even more.