by Cora Seton
Autumn writhed beneath him, glorying in the touch of his mouth, his tongue on her flesh. As he swept from one breast to the other and back again, the sensation swirled over her, through her and heated her to the core. She knocked off his hat and fisted her hands in his thick hair, moaning again as he dipped lower, lower, and nuzzled her sensitive core.
“Ethan,” she gasped, then arched her back as his tongue took her even higher.
Moments later he was back in her arms, covering her body with his, as naked as she’d somehow become.
“Autumn.” Her name was a question and she understood him completely. Was she sure she wanted this?
“Protection?” she gasped and he hesitated a fraction of a second.
“Wait,” he said and kissed her once more, a rough scrape of his mouth against hers. Then he was gone and she shivered in his absence. Before she could question it, he was back, a condom in hand. “My old stash,” he whispered. He had it on in an instant, then touched her chin, capturing her gaze once more. “Do you trust me?”
She nodded. Leaning forward he kissed her forehead, each of her eyes, her nose and then her mouth, covering her once more with his own lean, hard body.
She braced herself for his thrust, but opened her eyes again when he gently turned her in his arms. He guided her forearms to one stair tread, her knees to a lower one, framing her body with his own.
“Is this all right?” he breathed into her ear. He shifted forward, and his hardness pressed against her core, igniting an inner fire so bright it was all she could do not to press back against him and take him inside with one hard thrust.
“Autumn?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice so strained it was barely recognizable. “Yes. Please.”
She’d barely finished speaking when he pushed inside her. She cried out and he grunted, pulling out and pressing in again. He braced himself with a single hand on the stairs, using the other to cup her breasts. The sensation of him entering from behind her was breathtaking, but when he slid that hand down between her legs, the feeling was beyond any words.
Autumn bucked against him, the rhythm of his thrusts stoking the fire within her to new heights. She twisted her head to kiss him, to breathe raggedly into his ear, and when she nipped his earlobe, he redoubled his efforts, causing her to moan aloud.
Ethan’s pace quickened, her breasts swung in their own parallel rhythm, her sensitive nipples tantalized by the friction of the silky carpet against their tips. She arched her hips and pressed back into him, not able to get enough, unable to quench the thirst her body had developed for his touch.
Ethan grunted again, low and guttural, and Autumn clung to him, swept over the edge by want and need and desire. Ecstasy exploded within her, tossing her on wave after wave of sensation until she cried out again, bucking up against his hips, pressing her breasts down against the soft tread, closing her eyes in utter abandon to this lovemaking the likes of which she’d never known.
They collapsed together, full length on the stairs, Autumn taking his weight gladly until lack of oxygen made her wiggle and he pushed himself up on his elbows. She sighed with disappointment when he pulled out, and turned to snuggle in the curve of his shoulder as he lay beside her, still breathing hard.
“Woman, you’ll be the death of me if you keep up like that,” he said.
His exaggerated western drawl made her smile and she kissed the underside of his chin. “Can we do it again?”
He laughed aloud, and traced the length of her arm with one finger. “Any time.” He dropped a kiss on her cheek. “Any time at all.” Then he sobered. “But not too much longer on these stairs, I guess. Not if Claire has her way. I know I could pay off our debts over time, but buying out her half of the ranch – that’s just impossible. I don’t know what I’m going to do without this place.”
“What if you didn’t have to sell,” Autumn said, pulling back to see his face better. “What if you could keep the ranch and still buy her out?”
“What do you have in mind?” He sat up, placed his hat back on top of his head and began to dress.
She bit her lip. She only had the barest kernel of a plan. “Give me 24 hours, okay? I have an idea but I need more time to think it through. Tomorrow at dinner I’ll make a presentation.”
“A presentation? Like with a slideshow?” He laughed, and his smile warmed her heart.
She laughed with him. “Sure – I’ll do a Powerpoint presentation. I’ll lay everything out. Except…”
“Except what?”
“I don’t really know the numbers – what you bring in now, what your costs are. You’ve only known me a week, so I’ll understand if you don’t want to show me the books.”
Ethan glanced back up the stairs. “I’d say I know you better than I should at this point. And you are going to be my wife. And you might be carrying my child. If you want to look at the books, have at it. You know anything about numbers?”
Autumn picked up her camera and nodded. Boy, did she.
CHAPTER NINE
When Ethan returned from his afternoon chores, the smell of dinner made him want to skip his shower and head straight for the kitchen table, but Autumn shooed him along with a bright smile. “Fifteen minutes until the potatoes are done.”
Ten minutes later found him showered, changed and shaved, but he could still hear Autumn moving around the kitchen, so he let himself into the tiny room off of his bedroom he had converted into his office to pull out the ledgers he used to keep his accounts.
Matt Underwood, his accountant, swore at him every quarter when he brought in the dusty, old books to be photocopied by his secretary.
“Hell’s bells, Ethan – you’re the only holdout left in three counties. You own a laptop, so buy some software and get with the new century, would you? I’ll even set up the accounting program for you. You can punch in a few numbers, click your mouse and send in everything I need without leaving the ranch.”
He let Matt rant on, but it never made a difference. He wasn’t interested in fancy gadgets or pecking away at a machine. He hated the cell phone Claire had given him and his laptop sat untouched on his desk. The ledgers were good enough for five generations of Cruz’s; they were good enough for him.
But when he entered his study, it wasn’t account books that caught his eye. It was the collage of photographs covering a large portion of the windowless wall to the right of his desk. He saw it every time he entered the office, but it had been months since he really took it in. It had become as much a part of the tiny room as his desk and the ledger books.
Lacey made the collage after his parents’ accident, when he’d moved into the bunkhouse, but before he confessed the extent of the financial trouble he was in and she’d left him for good. One day, she asked him to take her to a home and garden show in Billings, and he’d begged off, saying he needed to work on his accounts. He had just learned the extent of his debts and was still reeling from his parents’ death and he couldn’t stand to spend the day listening to Lacey make lists of all the things she wanted to buy, and he could no longer afford.
True to his word, he’d spent the day holed up in his study, going over and over the accounts. That evening, he’d driven to her house to find she wasn’t home. She didn’t answer her cell phone, either. Typical Lacey behavior when she was mad about something. Unfortunately, he knew her other typical behaviors – getting drunk and flirting with other men. After spending half the night looking for her in every bar and restaurant within 50 miles of town and coming up empty, he’d returned to the bunkhouse to find a trail of roses leading back to this tiny room.
The photos she’d glued to the wall showed Lacey in every season, indoors and outdoors, smiling and pouting, in various states of dress and undress. In the very center she’d placed a photo he’d taken of her with her own camera one morning after they’d shared a bed. Only partially wrapped in a comforter, the early spring sunshine streaming in his bedroom window and cascading over her ripe body, the phot
o was as provocative as anything in a skin magazine. Even now it reminded him he was a man looking at a beautiful, naked woman.
He had the same thought he’d had every night this week when he entered the room to update his books. He’d better get rid of this before Autumn saw it. So far he hadn’t found the time to get it done and he wouldn’t be able to do it now, either. It was going to take time to scrape the pictures off the wall, especially since he had no idea how Lacey had attached them. Some sort of fancy craft store glue and then a layer of varnish over the whole damn thing. Autumn hollered from the kitchen to say that dinner was ready. Tonight, when she was getting ready for bed, he’d scrape them from the wall into a bag and hide them, and tomorrow when he was out working on the range, he’d light a little fire and burn them all.
* * * * *
Autumn jotted down another item on her shopping list. She’d ask Ethan if she could borrow the truck tomorrow. She planned to start the day by going over the ranch’s accounts and doing some research. Then she’d head to town, shop, and pop into his accountant’s office to get answers to any questions she might have. Then it would be back to the ranch to do a bit of work on the garden and prepare her presentation. She knew the guest ranch idea wouldn’t solve every problem right away, but she thought they might be able to pull it off. She opened the oven door and pulled out the stew pot, carried it over to the table and placed it on a square oven mitt she’d pressed into service as a trivet. Ethan might be able to pull it off, that is. She wouldn’t be here by then, of course.
Suddenly chilled, she crossed her arms and hugged them to her chest. Their passionate lovemaking and the afternoon spent gardening and cooking had driven all thought of her return to New York right out of her mind. She’d been thinking about the number of bedrooms in the Big House; how many guests they could hold and how to increase that number without building a costly addition. She was as adept with numbers as she was in the kitchen, and the hours had passed quickly and happily, but now that reality had burst her bubble she realized more than ever she didn’t want to return to city life.
The light from the workaday kitchen fixture made the diamond ring on her finger sparkle. Maybe the guest ranch idea could solve two problems in one fell swoop. Maybe it could save the ranch and provide her with a new career. If she was contributing as much to the bottom line as Ethan was, wouldn’t that count? Her mother and sister couldn’t gainsay that idea, could they?
Maybe it was time she stopped caring so much what they thought, anyway. No other man made her feel like Ethan did. No man had ever made her want to give up her independence and settle down. The idea of running a guest ranch, and better yet – cooking for a crowd every night, a crowd that someday would include her own children – made her heart lift with excitement. Surely that beat writing silly columns for a ladies’ magazine any day.
Didn’t it?
Glancing down at her ring again, she squared her shoulders. Why not grasp at the chance life was giving her. A handsome, caring fiancé who loved children. A chance to start a family and a new, exciting career. In less than a month she could have everything she ever wanted.
When Ethan walked into the room it was all she could do not to throw herself into his arms.
“Yes!” she said.
He stopped, one hand on the back of his chair, and cocked his head. “Yes?”
She nodded. “Yes. I want to marry you. Absolutely yes.”
And when the smile broke across his handsome face and he came to take her in his arms, she thought she’d found heaven right here on earth.
CHAPTER TEN
It was noon by the time Autumn reached Matt Underwood’s office. When she’d headed toward Ethan’s office earlier, he’d quickly forestalled her and went to fetch his accounting information himself. She’d nearly cried when Ethan dumped the stack of leather-covered old-fashioned ledger books on the kitchen table. She’d expected him to hand her a laptop with QuickAccounts or a similar program booted up and ready to access. What should have taken minutes ended up taking hours and she still didn’t have a complete handle on the Cruz operation.
A call to Matt’s office had gotten her commiseration and an invitation to come right in to get help. Apparently, Ethan had called earlier, letting Matt know who she was and why she was looking over the account books. As soon as Matt found out she was computer literate he begged her to use any and all influence she had on Ethan to get him online, as well.
Matt turned out to be in his mid-thirties, a trim man with a sharp face and horn-rimmed glasses. He listened carefully while she outlined her idea to turn the Big House into guest accommodations and offer trail rides, a cowboy experience, and trips into Billings for shopping and cultural events.
“It might work,” Matt said finally. “But you’ve got several obstacles, not the least of which is Ethan’s sister, Claire. You do know she wants to sell the ranch and pocket her half of the proceeds, right?”
“I know. What would it take to buy her out?”
It took nearly an hour for Matt to explain the exact state of affairs at the ranch. On the one hand, very few changes needed to be made to any of the existing structures to accommodate a fair number of guests. They would need a liquor license if they wanted to serve alcohol with dinner, and Autumn would need to take a food safety course. They might need extra hands to help with the trail rides; she knew very little about the men who worked with Ethan and their qualifications to interact with paying guests. Advertising would cost money and it would take time to drum up the interest and repeat customers that were the bread and butter of any guesthouse type arrangement.
Securing a loan to buy out Claire would be the toughest part of the battle. Autumn wished she had more to offer on that part of the bargain. Still, Matt thought two things might help. The first, oddly enough, was their marriage. He said bankers were old-fashioned in Montana, and they’d look favorably on a man who clearly planned to settle down and make a go of his spread. He also knew of a man interested in purchasing some land in the area. If Ethan could be persuaded to sell 100 acres on the riverfront, the profits would help swing them a second mortgage on the rest of the property. It might take a week or two for the buyer to get things together, but Claire would get paid and they’d have enough cash left over to advertise, buy some more riding horses, and get their guest ranch up and running.
As she stood up to shake Matt’s hand, her stomach rumbled, reminding her she hadn’t even eaten breakfast. She’d joined Ethan in his bed the previous night not long after dinner, and even though they’d been together more than once before falling asleep, both woke with an ardor that required quenching before any of the day’s work could begin.
She’d crammed half a loaf of French bread and an apple into Ethan’s hands as he ran out the door to meet Jamie in the south pasture. She hoped he wouldn’t be too upset at her absence from home at lunch time, but she still needed to do her shopping before she headed back to the ranch.
“Hungry?” Matt said. “I’m heading over to Linda’s Diner for a bite. Want to join me?”
“Sure.” Autumn checked her watch. “Are they fairly quick? I’ve still got a lot to do today.”
“We’ll have you in and out of there in a jiffy. I know all the waitresses – I’ll tell them you’re in a hurry.”
They crossed the road to a small restaurant sandwiched between the post office and a barber shop. Matt chose a table by the window and waved over a blonde waitress wearing a short-sleeved white shirt, black skirt, and a red apron with the Linda’s Diner logo stitched in white.
“Hi Matt, want the usual?”
“Yep. Tracey, this is Autumn Leeds. She’s in a bit of a rush today, so I promised lunch wouldn’t take too long.”
“No problem! What can I get you, Autumn?”
Autumn liked the young woman’s cheerful smile. “What’s the usual?”
“BLT, fries, and a chocolate milkshake.”
“Sounds perfect. I’ll have one, too.”
“C
oming right up. Cook’s probably got yours halfway done already, Matt.”
Tracey swung away, stopping at the next table to drop off a bill, before heading toward the counter that ran the length of one side of the building. She relayed the order to an older woman with graying hair pulled into a high bun.
“Is that Linda?”
Matt looked over his shoulder and laughed. “Naw, that’s Stephanie Lakins. Linda was her great grandma. It’s kind of a family business.”
“I guess so.” She returned Matt’s smile. “What made you pick accounting?” She settled back in her chair, confident that lunch would be tasty and the company enjoyable enough to pass the time.
As the door opened with a chime of bells, however, her feeling of contentment fell away in an instant. She recognized that brassy blonde hair, stiletto heels, and much too short skirt. Lacey Taylor, Ethan’s ex-fiancee. Was it too late to hide?
Lacey spotted her, narrowed her eyes, and dragged Carl with her over to stand before Autumn.
Yes, it was.
“Well, good morning – look what we have here!” she trilled, looking from Autumn to Matt and back again. “Are you negotiating your pre-nup with Ethan’s accountant, or moving on to greener pastures?”
Carl looked distinctly uncomfortable and Autumn wondered why he didn’t say anything. Probably out of fear Lacey would leave him like she left Ethan. Men seemed infinitely able to overlook a woman’s bitchiness if her breasts were perky and her feet stuffed into a pair of high heels.