She’d stood on their front porch, looking so achingly vulnerable and something about her, in that first moment of meeting her and every moment since, had drawn him.
He knew she’d been drawn to him, as well. He’d recognized her attraction, seen it in her features, felt it pulse in the air between them.
The past three nights of working at her kitchen table, sitting next to her, had been an exquisite form of torture. He’d left her cottage each night with the scent of her whirling dizzily in his head, creating a tension in him that threatened to explode.
As he unfastened the last button on her blouse, he broke his kiss and gazed down at her, giving her a final opportunity to halt what had begun.
Her eyes were as he’d imagined they would be, the deep green of summer heat. Her lips were swollen from his kiss, and her breathing was rapid. Her beauty ached inside him, and he wanted more…all of her. But he didn’t want to take what she didn’t want to give.
She apparently sensed his hesitation. She parted her unbuttoned blouse, exposing to his heated gaze a pale pink lacy bra and the full thrust of her breasts beneath.
The simple gesture was all the acquiescence he needed. With a groan, he splayed his hands over her bra, and his mouth sought hers once again.
Her nipples hardened beneath his hands, pressing up taut against the lace bra. Mark’s heart beat frantically as she moved her hands beneath his shirt, her fingers dancing up the bare skin of his back.
Mark quickly grew impatient with the clothing that still separated them. He sat up and pulled his shirt over his head. Aware of her gaze on him, he stood next to the bed and removed his boots.
He placed the pistol on the floor next to the bed, then took off his jeans, leaving himself clad only in a pair of briefs that in no way could hide his intense desire.
He pulled her to a sitting position, then gently pushed the blouse from her shoulders, allowing it to fall from her body and to the bed behind her.
He didn’t speak, nor did she. The only sounds in the room was the whisper of material as it was removed and their rapid breathing.
As he reached behind her to unclasp her bra, he pressed his lips against the side of her neck, savoring the soft, scented skin. She gasped in pleasure and tilted her head back, allowing him further access to her neck and throat.
The bra fell away, exposing her bare breasts to his hungry gaze. He covered them with his hands, her nipples pebble hard against his palm. She moaned, and the sound of her pleasure shot fire through his veins.
As he moved his mouth to where his hands had been, she tangled her hands in his hair, her breath coming in tiny pants and sighs.
Gently he leaned her back on the bed, so she was again stretched out. His fingers trembled as he worked to unfasten her jeans. When he got them undone, she helped him remove them by lifting her hips.
Only her pale pink panties and his briefs separated them now. Mark moved so his lower body was on top of hers. She welcomed him, parting her legs to allow him to nestle as close as possible.
Even with the material that kept them from complete intimate contact, he could feel the heat that radiated from her very center. It was a heat that beckoned him, forced the blood to surge through him, and he struggled to maintain control.
Mark had known instinctively that April had a well of passion inside her. He’d seen flashes of it in her eyes whenever he’d touched her. Now that passion was unleashed. She met his kisses with a hunger of her own, met him caress for caress, stroke for stroke as their foreplay lingered.
Her fingers danced across the expanse of his back, warm and teasing. At the same time her hips moved beneath his. At first her movement was tentative, almost imperceptible.
Mark shifted slightly so he was pressed against her heat. It was an exquisite form of torture, to be so close to possessing her, yet stymied by the thin material of underclothes.
April gasped as he met her hip thrust. At the same time he lowered his head to capture the peak of her breast with his mouth. He could feel her heartbeat thundering with pleasure and knew the rhythm of her heart matched his own.
It didn’t take long before he had to banish the last of the barriers that separated them. He needed complete possession, wanted to own her for this moment.
He rolled off her, pleasure winging through him as she moaned in abandonment. He quickly turned her moan of displeasure to one of satisfaction as he eased her panties down and off.
The light in the room had nearly extinguished with the coming of night, leaving the room in the dusky purple of deep twilight. And it was in this surreal illumination that Mark gazed at April, taking in the lines and curves of her nakedness.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered. It was true. She wasn’t model thin. She was lush and rounded and all the things a woman should be.
He saw the shiver that worked through her—recognized it wasn’t the temperature of the room that caused it, but rather his words—and the intense desire that shone from her eyes. Their green depths beckoned him into the heat she offered.
He took off his briefs and once again covered her body with his own. As his mouth covered hers, he slowly eased himself into her.
She welcomed him, her arms wrapping around him to pull him closer…closer still. He was aware of a racing heartbeat, but couldn’t discern if it was hers or his own.
For a long moment he didn’t move, couldn’t move for fear of completely losing control. She surrounded him with moist heat.
He knew if he moved, it would be the beginning of the end. And he didn’t want it to end. Not yet. He hadn’t had nearly enough of her sweet lips, her heady scent or her soft skin.
As much as he didn’t want to move, his body had a mind of its own. Despite any desire to the contrary, his hips moved without volition, thrusting rhythmically against hers.
She met him thrust for thrust, hands clutching, fingers raking across his back. Moans of pleasure escaped her and fed his exhilaration. As they moved faster and faster together, Mark gave himself over completely to the sweet summer heat of April.
“You okay?” he asked moments later as they lingered side by side on the bed. He could just make out her features in the soft moonlight that drifted in the window.
“Sure.” She propped herself up on one elbow facing him. “It’s just been a long time for me. I’m not sure I remember how to make small talk after sex.”
He smiled, finding her candor refreshing. “I’m just grateful you didn’t decide to try to small talk during sex.”
She laughed, a wonderfully sexy sound. “I couldn’t think, let alone small talk.” She reached out and touched his cheek.
He grabbed her hand and kissed her palm. For a moment he wished they could remain here forever. No ranch, no murder, no world outside of the bed that held the two of them.
“This is nice,” she said. “But I should get back.” Still she made no effort to move, as if she were reluctant to release the moment.
He pulled her close to him and for a few minutes simply held her in the moonlight that spilled into the window. He wondered what it would be like to sleep like this every night, with the warmth of a woman in his arms…with the warmth of April in his arms.
“I should get back,” she repeated. This time she left his arms, scooted off the bed, grabbed her clothes and disappeared into the bathroom.
Mark rolled over on his back and stared unseeing at the ceiling. Somehow the simple touch of her hand to his cheek had almost seemed more intimate than the lovemaking they’d just shared.
The directions of his thoughts as he’d held her had been frightening. What kind of fool was he to imagine that he could be enough for a woman like April? That he could make her happy for a lifetime? Foolish thoughts.
He frowned, hoping he hadn’t just made an enormous mistake. He liked April, liked her a lot. But she deserved somebody who could give her things he couldn’t. If he gave her the opportunity, eventually she’d find him lacking, as Rachel had. He didn’t intend to g
ive her the chance.
He rolled off the bed and grabbed his clothes. By the time he was dressed, she was out of the bathroom. Together they left the house. “You can drive back,” she said as she handed him the keys to her car. “I don’t trust my sense of direction in the dark.”
Again Mark had the feeling that somehow a transition had occurred between them. In the act of handing over the keys to her car, she’d indicated a new sense of trust in him.
They rode in silence for a moment. “What was she like?” April broke the silence.
Mark didn’t need to ask whom she was speaking of. “Then or now?” he asked.
“Either…both.”
Mark thought of the woman he’d once believed he would marry. “Rachel was a nice woman…still is. Her father was friends with mine. It was my father’s idea that we date.”
“Your father liked her?”
Mark tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “My father wanted heirs for the ranch. He thought Rachel would be a good mother.” In actuality, what Adam had said was that Rachel had the wide hips that would probably make her a good brood mare.
He struggled to loosen his grasp on the steering wheel despite the tension that suddenly assailed him. “My father wanted grandsons and I was the chosen one to continue the Delaney line. Matthew was too important to the ranch to waste himself being a husband and father. Luke was too young and too wild to fulfill that particular duty.”
“And so you were to be the sacrificial lamb, so to speak.”
“Yeah, although at the time it didn’t seem like such a terrible way to sacrifice myself.” He offered her a wry grin. “Far better than having to fling myself into the mouth of an active volcano.”
“So, what happened?”
Mark focused his attention out the window and reached back into his past to retrieve bits of memory. “Nothing earth-shattering. Rachel and I dated, began planning our wedding and I started work on this house. As the house went up, I realized Rachel seemed to be distancing herself from me. Finally, a month before the wedding, she told me she couldn’t go through with it, that she just didn’t love me.”
He didn’t share with April all the reasons Rachel had listed. A litany of sins for which Mark had no answer.
“Were you devastated?”
He thought for a moment before replying. “At first I was. Then I realized I was more upset about ruining my father’s plans than I was about losing Rachel.”
“Where is she now?”
“Married to Samuel Rogers who owns the ranch next to ours. She’s the mother of two and seems genuinely happy. I’m glad for her. She deserves to be happy.”
“And what about you?”
“Me? I’m grateful the entire experience happened. It made me realize I’m not cut out to be a husband. Marriage is definitely not in my future.”
He was grateful to see the lights of the ranch just ahead, because he was suddenly irritated by her questions, questions that were making him remember his own inadequacies.
He’d allowed her the intimacy of his body, but that didn’t mean he owed her the intimacy of his mind. “What is this, twenty questions?” he snapped suddenly.
She stiffened her shoulders. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
But he knew that was exactly what she meant to do. And it scared him. He didn’t want her to think that what they’d just shared implied promise, held the hope of any future.
“Mark, I don’t want you to think that tonight changes anything.”
He stopped the car in front of her cottage and turned to her in surprise. Apparently she’d been thinking the same things he had.
“You don’t have to worry that because we slept together I now have expectations of a relationship. I don’t.” She opened her car door, and in the light that blinked on overhead he saw the blush that stained her cheeks.
She held out her hand for her keys, and he handed them to her. “Mark, I like having you as a friend, but I’m certainly not looking for a relationship. I’ve had enough men in my life to last me a lifetime.” Her blush intensified. “The sex was great, but that’s all it was.” She got out of the car and closed the door.
Mark quickly followed, somehow feeling like a heel.
“April.” He caught up with her as she was unlocking her front door. She turned to him, her face achingly beautiful in the silvery moonlight. The need to apologize was quickly overwhelmed by the greater need to capture her lips with his.
And he did just that, capturing her lips with his. She briefly accepted his kiss, then stepped away from him. “Good night, Mark.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, but before he could say anything else she slipped through the door and was gone.
He stood for a long moment on her porch, staring up at the moon overhead and trying to work through the conflicting emotions that raced through him. She’d said everything he’d wanted to hear. He should be feeling at ease.
And yet, the casual way she’d dismissed their lovemaking as simple sex bothered him. He scoffed inwardly at himself and stepped off her porch.
Heading back to the main house, he told himself things were just as they should be with April. He should be feeling just fine. After all, she expected nothing from him and that was exactly what he could give her. Because he was Mark Delaney…because he was his father’s son.
April didn’t see him the next day. She looked for him around seven that evening, when he usually showed up to go through Marietta’s files. But he didn’t appear.
She sat at the table alone and opened the file. There weren’t many pages left that they hadn’t gone over. She would look them over alone.
Over the next hour she tried to concentrate on the paperwork, but her mind kept skipping back to the night before.
Making love with Mark had been every bit as breathtaking as she’d fantasized it would be. He’d been alternatively demanding and gentle, commanding and vulnerable, taking and giving.
She’d awakened that morning with her body aching, but it was the pleasant ache of a woman who’d been fully loved.
Not loved, she reminded herself. What they’d shared had nothing to do with love and everything to do with an explosion of lust. Chemistry had been at work between them from the moment they’d met. Last night they had acted upon that chemistry. Nothing more. Nothing less.
At least this time she understood the rules going into it. Unlike Derrick, who had crept into her heart like a thief, stolen all that she had to give, then left her bereft and broken.
She wouldn’t, couldn’t give Mark that same power over her. She knew exactly where he stood. And she knew she’d be a fool to trust again, especially a man who had begun a relationship with her based on deception.
However, she had lied to him. When she’d told him the last thing she wanted was another man in her life, it had been a lie. She’d sensed Mark’s distance, felt his panic when he’d thought she was getting too close, asking questions that went to his heart.
She’d said what she had—about them sharing good sex and her wanting nothing more from him—to ease his conscience. He’d made it more than clear that he had no intention of pursuing a real relationship with her, one that would eventually lead to a lifetime commitment.
She didn’t know what sort of baggage Mark carried from his father, but it seemed to be plentiful. She didn’t understand the Delaney family dynamics and she wasn’t in a position to fix them.
All she knew for certain was that when she found the man who would be her true soul mate and a stepfather to Brian, he would want a future with her as much as she did with him. And it seemed obvious that man wasn’t Mark Delaney.
The next week flew by. The ranch hummed with activity as the hired help worked to ready things for the arriving guests. Both Brian and April received their first paychecks and celebrated by opening savings accounts and eating dinner in town.
Throughout the week April saw Mark often. She saw him in the corral working the horses, bumped into hi
m in the main house as she came out of a meeting with Johnna. Each morning after working several hours in the stables, Brian came in chattering about what Mark said or what Mark did.
April only knew the things Mark didn’t do. He didn’t come by the cottage to see her. He nodded to her, smiled at her, but gave no indication that she was anything other than a fellow worker.
April told herself it was ridiculous to feel hurt. She’d told him she expected nothing from him, and she’d meant it. But at night in her lonely bed, she remembered those moments of being held in his arms, of his mouth taking such utter possession of hers, and she realized she wanted him again.
It had nothing to do with love, she told herself again and again. It was about need, about want. It was all about hormones not hearts. She would never, ever allow her heart to be vulnerable again.
At the moment she had little thought for Mark. She stood before her bedroom mirror, applying the last of her makeup. Her mind raced, going over all the details of the welcoming barbecue she’d arranged for the guests who had arrived that day.
She was unbelievably nervous about the event. She desperately hoped everything went smoothly, that the guests had a roaring good time and she’d finally get a nod of approval from Mr. Stuffy, Matthew Delaney.
She stepped back to view her reflection. The denim dress she wore wasn’t new, but had only been worn once before. Sleeveless, it exposed the tan she’d acquired over the past couple of days and hugged her curves in all the right places.
“Mom.” Brian knocked on her door. “Isn’t it time yet?”
She opened the door and smiled. “Yes, it’s time for us to get to the barbecue. But you know it doesn’t really start for another hour.”
“I know, but you said there’s lots of work to do.” Brian grabbed his cowboy hat and plopped it on his head, his smile eager. “I told Ricky to come early, too. He can help with the work.”
“Many hands make light work,” April said as they left the cottage.
Directly in front of the main house a flurry of activity was taking place. Several of the cowboys were busy setting up chairs, and a band was unpacking its equipment. The scent of savory ribs and tangy sauce wafted in the air from the industrial-size steel cooker. Baked beans bubbled in large pots over fire pits, and April knew there were tons of potato salad in the refrigerator, just waiting to be served.
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