Carnal Games

by Titania Ladley

  He stilled his movements for several moments while he stared deep into her eyes. She felt the fear again as his expression softened. Watching the beads of sweat roll down across his cheek and onto her naked breast, she suddenly wanted all of his wetness drenching her. She looked down to see one of his dark nipples against his chest like a brown pearl, and reached to pinch it as he’d done to her.

  His sharp intake of breath startled her at first. Had she hurt him? No, she hadn’t, she knew by the groan, the quickening of his breathing, the way he thrust himself into her almost violently. And she knew a sudden sense of power, of abandoned control that thrilled her beyond anything else in this world, even more than the ranch itself.

  He moved then like a rutting stallion. He pounded her until she rejoiced in the slapping noises, until she could smell the untamed aroma of sex mingled with the scents of the country, until the white-hot pinnacle of her orgasm stabbed her, suffusing out from her core into every cell of her body. He groaned his mutual release as the waves crashed over and over again, thrilling her with a pleasure so unbelievable, she became dizzy with the sensation of his hot seed spilling inside her while he moved to devour her mouth with his.

  She was floating back down to earth now, aching sweetly, hot and cold all together. The sensation that was centered between her legs and spread throughout her body, was making her weak and powerful all at once, turning her into a maddened, primitive animal. When the sudden, red-hot heat of their release had immersed her, slammed into her with its painful bliss, she’d torn her mouth from his and cried out, her eyes flying wide in wonderment.

  But reality soon set in. She was fully sated. And her gut swirled with dread. The reason being, she still didn’t need, nor want, a husband.

  So now what was she to do?

  Chapter Five

  Sam nearly lost it. He’d never seen a more sexy, arousing release in his entire thirty years. He was sure he could make love to her over and over and feel completely fulfilled without an inch of penetration, so enchanting and sensual was her response to his touch. It was a dangerous thought, one that told him he had less control of this situation than he’d led her—or himself—to believe.

  They were haphazardly sprawled across the blanket, their heavy breathing the only sound each of them heard. Tania stared out at the navy of the night sky as a red-tailed hawk soared across the moon, oblivious to the animalistic acts that had just occurred below. Flinging an arm over her eyes, she turned away from Sam in sudden humiliation.

  “What is it, honey?” he asked, planting soft kisses across the back of her neck.

  Tania wiggled out of reach. “I can’t believe I just did that,” she said blandly.

  “Oh, but that’s only the beginning,” he warned, sitting up and dragging her against him until she sat across his lap. Gently, he began to slip her clothing on her, to tuck and button her shirt. “There’s so much more that I’ll do to you, so much more that we’ll do together.”

  “You’re talking too fast. Moving too fast.” Fear shown across her features, her eyes darted about in search of a way out. She leaped to her feet, quickly righting her belt buckle. “My hat. Where’s my hat?” she asked frantically.

  He found it smashed inside-out near his boots and handed it to her.

  “No.” She jabbed her fist into the hat, then pressed it atop her mussed hair. “You’ll do no more to me.”

  Sam gazed up at her in all her flushed beauty, her hat askew upon her pretty head. Like a switch had been thrown, she’d gone from hot to cold. “We’ll see about that, puma…” And she did resemble a wild mountain lion, far more now than the kitten he’d taken to calling her.

  Tania jabbed her foot into one boot, glanced about in search of the other. Sam sighed audibly, then stood naked and stuffed his legs into his jeans. He altered his crotch to accommodate for his still swollen cock. “It’s down by the spigot.”

  Her ice-blue gaze speared him. “What’s down by the spigot?”

  “Your boot,” he said simply, sliding into his own.

  Her golden tan flushed to pink. She hobbled over to the ladder and turned to scale it downward. “Look, Sam,” she mumbled as she dropped from view. “Let’s just forget this ever happened, okay?”

  He followed her over to the ladder after jamming his arms into his shirt and buttoning it up. “No, Tatiana,” he growled as he looked down at her. “I’ll not forget it. We’re husband and wife, whether you want to accept it or not.”

  “Expect the annulment papers soon.” She said it breathless, as if it hurt to breathe. That was one consolation, he thought, before she sailed from the barn. In seconds, he heard the fading thunder of hooves upon the Texas soil.

  ***

  He’d come after her. She glanced to her right, and there he was, reaching over and reining Fury to a stop.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded to know, fighting for control of her own reins.

  She was suddenly yanked atop his lap, and she came up against the brick wall of his chest. One hip was now pressed against the horn of his saddle…and the other against that hard rod in his crotch. Did he ever go soft? she wondered incredulously.

  “All I ask is for one more pact.” He looked down at her mouth, his gaze seeming to be fixated there.

  She stared up into the green of his eyes, now as pale as olives, but dark with hope, nonetheless. With a sigh, she wriggled in his lap. “The original agreement was not between you and I. It was between me and a man who was to die shortly thereafter. Why should I continue to strike up bargains that only seem to be getting me into further trouble?”

  “I asked you earlier if you cared to go for double or nothing…”

  His voice was smooth, gentle, persuasive—and she struggled to ignore the swift flames that re-ignited between her legs. But, by her way of thinking, she’d already both doubled her trouble, and been left with nothing…that is, except the pleasure he’d given her, sweet pleasure she’d never forget, but, by golly, never repeat! With a groan, she asked, “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Marriage hadn’t been at the top of my list, either,” he explained, lifting her chin with one finger, so that he could see the flicker of emotions in her eyes. Everything was in her eyes, he thought. “But I needed a mother for Alexa. I had hoped you would fit the bill.”

  He watched as her gaze flashed with…fear? Yes, it had been fear, he thought, resting a hand on her thigh.

  She reached down and removed his hand. “But, Sam, you weren’t up front with me. You never told me you weren’t Powers, and you sure as heck never informed me you had a daughter. If I would have known all this, there’s no way in hell I would have signed that marriage contract.”

  “Oh,” he snorted, keeping his eyes averted. “And you were honest with me?”

  She wriggled uncomfortably, her hip coming into sweet painful contact with his manhood.

  “I thought I was dealing with a man who knew the whole story, or at least, all he needed to know,” she amended, watching as the silver glow of the moon moved behind the roof of his hacienda, basking the home in a heavenly radiance. “I was, well, mostly honest with him.”

  “I’ll give you that,” he shot her a sidelong, forgiving look.

  She sighed. “What’s the bargain, Sam? Get it out and over with.”

  “I’ve a new book started,” he began, admiring the flow of the land, the stream that meandered over yonder through a copse of trees, the sleek racehorses grazing afar in the darkened field. It already felt like home. “If you help me with the research, I’ll grant you your precious annulment—but I’ll agree to keep it hush so your grandfather still believes we’re married.”

  “Book?” she said incredulously, twisting to face him. “What do you mean, ‘book’?”

  He glanced down at her and couldn’t resist cupping her adorable face with one hand. “Didn’t your grandfather tell you? I’m an author.”

  “An author?”

  The sheepish, yet proud grin he b
estowed upon her had her heart fluttering against her will. “Yes, haven’t you ever heard of best-selling author, Sam Phoenix?”

  She blinked. Her jaw opened, clamped shut. “You’re kidding me,” she accused, leaning away from him.

  “Nope,” he insisted, shaking his head and bending to inhale the scent of her hair, her skin, just her. “I was interviewing Powers for my latest book about the sick minds of criminals, what makes them tick, you know? He was escorted out and you, lovely thing that you are, were thrust into my life like a blooming flower in the miserable desert.”

  She turned her back on him suddenly, and slung her leg over the horn. “I don’t believe this.” She crossed her arms over her belly. She was supposed to be a free widow, not the wife of a live famous author, a position that would threaten her anonymity!

  His arms were about her in no time, drawing her back against him. “Believe it.” He planted a kiss at the nape of her neck. “Now, all’s I’m asking is a little help from you.”

  Tania ignored the pleasing heat of his body flush with hers, the wicked tingle centered at her neck and moving swiftly through her system like an addictive drug. She turned to study him, to help decide if he spoke the truth. For a long moment, she merely stared mesmerized into his pleased eyes. But she wasn’t pleased. She was dumbfounded, confused, angry. Her mind did a quick rewind back to that day in that dingy holding cell at the prison.

  And she felt like slapping herself, pounding her own head in stupidity.

  She now recalled that there’d been no handcuffs on him, that the guards had been virtually nonchalant about leaving her alone with him, and that the table across the room had been strewn with notepads and pens and even a tape recorder that one might use during an interview. And somehow, deep down, she’d known that, despite the rakish looks of him in that prison garb, he hadn’t fit properly into the picture.

  Had she been that desperate to just barrel in there and take what she needed without regard for what really lay before her? No, she just couldn’t fathom it, could never accept her own selfishness.

  A famous author! For God's sake, she was married to a famous author who’d started out as a dead man walking, but was now more alive that any man she’d ever seen. She hadn’t bargained for any of this in her wildest dreams, in her most frightening nightmares.

  This was all Mik’s doing. All his damned, meddling fault!

  She inhaled a deep, ragged breath. “You’re saying that if I help you with your research, you’ll give me an annulment, and keep the annulment a secret from my grandfather? And my ranch will be mine alone?” At his nod, she added, “What’s the catch? What do you get out of it?”

  He hooked his hand behind her neck and drew her near for a gentle kiss. The fire was ignited instantly, but Sam concentrated on the plan, for to light a fire, you must first begin with kindling. He released her. “I get the research I need firsthand, in order to produce a publishable manuscript, the subject of which is…homelessness.”

  Her eyes went wide, then narrowed with humiliation. Homelessness? He knew? Oh, Lord, he knew she’d once lived on the streets, once begged and pilfered for food, once stunk to high heaven. He knew! And there were no words to hide her embarrassment. She had to get away. She had to go hide, go bury her head in a deep, deep hole! With that thought, she leapt from his horse. Yanking Fury’s reins from him, she catapulted herself up onto the steed and bolted from him.

  “Tania!” Sam called out, stunned by her reaction. But he’d seen it in her eyes. The humiliation, the unease. God knows he hadn’t wanted to cause her such pain. His intentions had been to include her, to draw from her firsthand knowledge that only a homeless person would know—and of course, it was an excuse to woo her, to spend time with her, to seduce her into being his wife in every way, and the mother of his beloved child. He was proud of Tatiana for weathering such horrid conditions, and he’d assumed she’d be proud too, eager to assist him, to impart insight that he’d never be able to achieve without her. He’d never intended to be the cause of such shame. Never. His first impression of her had been as a rich, spoiled, selfish young woman. But after the prison wedding, his sources had investigated and proven him wrong. He’d been simply astonished to discover she’d been a homeless child.

  Then the feelings of protectiveness that had welled up in him had perplexed him even more.

  ***

  “Tania!” he was upon her in seconds. He reached for Fury’s reins and dismounted in one fluid leap. He reached up and wrapped his arms about her waist, then drug her from the steed’s back.

  “Let go of me!” she hissed, bucking against him. “Just go away and get out of my life!”

  “Tania, please,” he pleaded, holding her firm, yet soothing her with a slow rocking motion. “Shhh.”

  The tears fell just before the soft, wracking sobs came. It was a part of her life she was ashamed of—and terrified of returning to. She needed no reminders, no one looking upon her with pity, nor sneering down upon her, as if she were low-life, dirty, filthy trash. Oh, she’d literally slept in the trash before, but God, help her if anyone ever should know it!

  “Please,” she whispered, stilling her fight, for she had none left in her. “Just let me go.”

  Sam spun her about and tucked her head under his chin, and with all his might, all his emotional power, he wrapped himself around her. He stroked her back, removed her hat and planted soft kisses across her forehead and temples. She trembled within his embrace as her sobbing continued, and he felt his heart quiver with the first light of love.

  “Shh, sweetheart,” he quieted her. He tipped her face up so that he could stare into her watery eyes, like two huge drops of seawater. He inhaled sharply, shocked by the pain he saw there mirrored by the light of the moon. “I’m sorry. I had no idea it would affect you in such a way. I meant no malice whatsoever.”

  “It’s…it’s okay,” she said on a wail. She swiped frantically at the tears. “I need to go now.”

  His hands came to her shoulders, then went up and down her arms, caressing, reassuring. “Will you come back tomorrow?”

  She shook her head, backing away from him, searching for Fury’s location.

  “We’ve some…things to discuss, plans to make. In the meantime, you can think over my offer. It still stands if you’re interested.”

  She reapplied her hat and crossed to where her horse rooted in the patchy foliage. “Double or nothing?” she replied frostily, mounting with haste.

  “Tatiana,” he warned. He came to stand below her, and stroked her calf with a gentleness that nearly had her dismounting. With a soft light in his eyes, he continued, “I don’t think there will ever be ‘nothing’ between the two of us.”

  “We’ll see about that,” she hissed.

  With a choked cry, she spun Fury around and raced toward the ranch that would probably, one day soon, be ripped from her heart and willed to charity.

  Chapter Six

  Tania maneuvered the plow, forming arrow-straight rows in preparation for planting. In the cab of the tractor, she looked out upon the hundreds of acres that separated her from both Paradice Ranch and Sam’s property beyond it. The far southeast corner of the estate was where the rich soil produced profitable crops of cotton, sorghum, peanuts and rice. Further northwest, inward toward the grand mansion, some three-hundred acres were being readied by Clay and his men for produce and livestock grains to be planted.

  Due west from her current location, Tania could see the thatched roof of the small log cabin she used during planting and harvest seasons, its wide front balcony overlooking the fields like a beacon of prosperity and pride for the rich Texas land it guarded. Much smaller than her cottage, which sat several hundred yards below the mansion’s towering hill, the cabin was a cozy, private retreat she’d looked forward to each spring and fall.

  Now, it had become a refuge from the dreadful, complicated mess she’d made of her life. Glancing about as she finished her last row of the day, Tania thought it
ironic that the land that was spread out about her symbolized that which had motivated her to implement such a crazy scheme as marrying a criminal, in the first place: food, shelter, life, peace…security. She’d simply panicked and attempted to secure her future at any cost. Now that she safely had her precious ranch back—for now—she was being asked to return to the streets, to accompany renowned author, Sam Phoenix, to the very place that symbolized losing what she held dearest.

  It was a risk she may be forced to undertake.

  If she didn’t escort him to her roots, grant him interview after interview, and bend to his will, she’d be back there anyway, sleeping in a saggy cardboard box, scrounging for her next meal in a dumpster behind some fancy restaurant, praying the nearest homeless shelter would have room for her on a subzero night of ice-cold hell.

  If she did agree to his scheme, she’d return to the streets on a temporary basis, fulfill his need for research and firsthand knowledge, then finally have her security firmly back in hand, not to mention a secret annulment from the arrogant ass. Shivering, she squelched torrid thoughts of his lips all over her, his hands doing magical tricks to her body, his tender expertise as he molded her like pliant clay.

  Sweeping around a large thicket of trees and brush, she turned through the gate that led to the cabin, then drove the tractor into the dilapidated old barn behind it. Shutting down the roaring engine, she dropped from the high cab onto the dirt floor. It had been several days since she’d last seen Sam, since he’d shown her the fire that could ignite between a man and a woman, since he’d turned her life upside-down and inside-out.

  Trapped, like a doe in the forest surrounded by hunters. That’s precisely how she felt, and precisely why she’d insisted on taking to the cabin early and beginning the week-long chore of readying the south fields. She needed to be alone, to savor the simplicities of life, to put every ounce of her energy and every drop of her sweat into the land that she loved with a heated passion. The ranch had always been her haven, since that day long ago when she’d awoken from a nightmare into a dream, but the cabin was her sanctuary now, a refuge from the two men in her life who wanted to complicate and manipulate her.