Rule's Seduction

by Lynda Chance

  “I don’t mind—I want to get to the bottom of my parentage.”

  “What happened to your mother?” Erin asked.

  “She died when I was very young. I suspect it was a drug overdose, but I’ll probably never know for sure. At least, not unless Max knows the truth. And how ever much he knows, I doubt if he knows if my mom’s death was accidental or not.”

  A sudden tension knotted in Erin’s stomach. “Why would Max know anything about it?”

  “My mother was Max’s aunt.”

  The ramifications of that statement hit Erin like a thunderclap. “You and Max are first cousins?”

  “Yes.”

  Erin’s heart began to race. “That explains the look he was giving you on the day we met. He’s protective of you, isn’t he?”

  “I think so. We don’t talk about it. My history is an ill-kept secret and the elephant in the room—I’m a Navarro in name—but I have both Villarreal and Rule blood running through my veins.”

  As Erin let that information sink in, it didn’t take her long to come up with one simple fact—this information couldn’t be a coincidence. This had to be the reason for Max’s need for revenge—it had to be. It couldn’t be an accident that Erin would suddenly find herself living in Argentina so close to a woman who was related to her …

  So that meant one thing—Max’s agenda was personal instead of the business he’d alluded to. So, it suddenly made sense. If her grandfather had dishonored his aunt in some way, and then the woman had died because of it—had Max harbored an anger he couldn’t overcome?

  If the family connection was true, then Max probably believed it had been her father and not her grandfather who was to blame as well. But would the extra generation make any difference to his feelings? Her brothers shouldn’t be blamed for past transgressions, whether those transgressions were their father’s or grandfather’s. But, knowing Max, even if he were made aware of Nora’s true bloodline, it probably wouldn’t make a difference to him.

  And it angered Erin. She’d truly thought that her brothers just might have made some kind of a business move that had upset Max’s family—maybe something to do with a piece of real estate or something. Something that had pissed Max off so much that he’d plotted revenge. And even though that reasoning was bullshit, this was even more bullshit. You couldn’t blame people for their father’s debts, you damn sure shouldn’t blame them for their father’s sins. But, Max was full of Latino machismo, a male whose ideas and passions ran deep, as she could well attest.

  It pissed her off, but she needed to focus on Nora’s needs now. Even if the girl was technically her aunt, which she’d ask her mother about just as soon as she could, Nora was still younger than she was, and that was already making Erin feel protective of her. “I’m going to ask my mom about this, and I’ll let you know, but either way, you have me for a friend at the very least.”

  Nora studied her as if grateful and relieved, and then she smiled before her face crumpled. “Thank you.”

  As the first tears rolled down the younger girl’s face, Erin didn’t hesitate, she just took her in her arms.

  ****

  It didn’t take Erin long to realize that she couldn’t simply ask her mother about her grandfather’s past dalliances. She couldn’t tell her mom about Nora yet either, because her mother was a smart woman and she’d realize the same truth Erin had—that there was no way all of this could be a coincidence. The world just wasn’t that small. And then Justine would want to know everything, but Erin wasn’t ready to tell her mother everything yet.

  So, Erin decided to take Nora’s belief as the truth—well, the truth so far as it went. Erin believed that it was her grandfather’s folly, not her father’s, and she hoped she’d impressed that upon Nora as well.

  But should she let Max know that she was aware of the past? And how could she not tell him? Shifting the blame back one generation might help him to get over his anger. At least she hoped so. But the more she debated the idea, the angrier she became: Max had no right blaming her siblings for something another person had done, no matter the connection. Doing so wasn’t right and screw it all to hell—it didn’t make Max the hero that she damn well knew she deserved.

  It was just so damn sad. If only … Max could have been the perfect husband. But she swore by all that was holy, she wouldn’t let him hurt her feelings. She was okay being angry—but by God, she wouldn’t allow herself to be hurt.

  She could be hurt so easily—thank God she was only sexually infatuated with Max and not in love with him. She wasn’t—she wasn’t.

  ****

  Max studied Erin as she sat in the middle of their bed spreading lotion down the silky length of her legs. He swelled at the erotic sight but tried to stay focused on the conversation and not on the ache in his groin. “So, the two of you get along okay?”

  He hadn’t been thrilled that Erin and Nora had gone four-wheeling by themselves. It wasn’t safe as far as he was concerned, but they’d returned before he’d even been notified they’d left the compound—he’d already taken care of that oversight with his foreman.

  And now he was doubly irritated when Erin wouldn’t look up as she paused before answering. “Yeah. She’s sweet. She has no ulterior motive that I can see—she just needs a friend.”

  Ulterior motives? Was that a dig at him? She thought he was the one with ulterior motives? Well, what the fuck? Motivation was what propelled the world forward and it was high time that Erin realized that. He couldn’t be blamed for having motives and she needed to get over the fact that she’d been caught in the crossfire. It had happened, it was over. And they were married.

  Yeah, they were married. With that thought blaring in his brain and his cock screaming at him to prove it, he moved toward her. Taking the tube of lotion from her fingers, he tossed it aside and came over her on all fours.

  Her eyes shot up to his and he read her expressions as they appeared: surprise, panic, a hint of anger and then finally, as he felt a shiver run through her slender frame—capitulation.

  He’d take capitulation—because it wouldn’t take him sixty fucking seconds to turn capitulation into all out participation.

  ****

  Max rolled over and in a state between half-sleep and half-wakefulness, he reached out to drag Erin into his side—and found nothing but an empty space next to him. Coming fully awake, it took only seconds for his eyes to adjust to the dark.

  There was no question—his wife was missing—again.

  A ball of fucked-up emotion lodged in his gut, but before he woke the entire household in an uproar to find her, the first place he looked was in her closet.

  Opening the door, half hoping he’d find her there and half hoping he wouldn’t, he let the glow from the bathroom light shine in.

  She was there. Asleep on the goddamn chaise he’d allowed her to keep—but she was safe at least.

  It irritated the hell out of him that she’d leave their bed and he was very fucking tempted to scoop her up and put her back in the bed with him. But he didn’t. He stopped himself, because for some reason, he realized that she must have felt she needed to be away from him. He hated that—but he’d respect it—at least this one night.

  He attempted to calm himself as he stared down into a countenance that seemed troubled even in sleep. He tried to allow her presence to comfort him—he knew where she was, she was still in their suite. Safe.

  But as he carefully shut the door and crawled back into his empty bed, he realized that although her presence was a measure of comfort—it was a cold, unrewarding comfort that left him aching for more.

  ****

  The next night, Max made damn sure he gave Erin an orgasm—and then another—just to be sure. He held her tightly, drawing her into his chest and making damn sure that his hold was unbreakable.

  She wasn’t going to slip from his arms again—that shit wasn’t happening.

  But he finally had no choice and fell asleep; when he woke up at dawn
the next morning, she was sound asleep in the closet again. Fury encompassed him—how dare she? What was her reason for leaving his bed two nights in a row? But as he studied her face in the pale light, he saw traces of tears. The sight more than upset him. Regardless of how they’d started, how unreasonable could it be to expect her to be happy here? Motherfucker. He was happy she was here—she should be the same.

  He felt his muscles tighten as he continued to study her. By God, he’d win this damn war. He had no idea why he felt so strongly about the situation. He admitted to himself—he ached with the need for her to be happy. That’s just how it was.

  He wanted her happy so damn bad it felt like a knot of ice in his guts. Yeah, he needed her to be happy and he wouldn’t settle for anything less.

  ****

  That night, Max made love to Erin with a vengeance. Feeling a need he couldn’t understand, he held her staked to the bed, her hands grasped in one of his as he pushed apart her naked thighs. Thrusting inside her, feeling the heaven of her inner walls clasping him, the memory of the previous two nights made him hiss, “You’re staying in my bed tonight.” He took another stroke and slammed back inside with more force than he’d intended. “You’re not leaving again, you understand me?”

  Her eyes glazed with a sexual pleasure she couldn’t hide from him, but just that quickly, her features became troubled and she snapped her eyes closed.

  The move forced a snarl from his throat. He took two more strokes for himself and then pulled out. Sliding down, he trailed biting kisses over her breasts and down the flat plane of her stomach.

  He pushed his arms under her legs and forced them wide as he felt her fingers clasp him by the hair with just enough force to set him off.

  He spread her open with his fingers and stared down into the glistening pink of her satin flesh. Flesh that drove him wild. Flesh that he wanted to taste, needed to taste. Ravenous, he held her open and licked her, from top to bottom and then again. Feeling her jerk against the bed, he inserted one finger into her sheath and began a dedicated effort to make her orgasm this way. He wanted it—wanted to taste it when she came—he wanted that shit now and he wanted it forever. He had no idea why she insisted on being so unhappy, but he knew damn good and well that making her orgasm over and over again had to be the key to making her want to sleep in his bed.

  With those intentions, he took what he needed. Plunging his finger in and out, he took her clit between his teeth and began manipulating it with tongue and lips. He felt her response—she began moaning and wriggling uncontrollably.

  He lifted his head and gritted his teeth as he looked down and watched his finger manipulate her. The sensation was stunning—the visual and the silky feel of her skin combined made his balls tighten and his guts clench. “Come for me, Erin. I want you to come for me—for me, baby. You have to love this—I need you to love this.” At his words, she began a keening wail, and much to his relief, she began coming. Her reaction was like a stroke of magic. After giving her the few seconds she needed to milk the feeling, he shifted up her body and with one thrust, plunged all the way inside.

  He managed only five rough strokes before he lost control and followed her over into paradise.

  ****

  Erin opened her eyes, the physical connection between them unbroken. Even now, Max pushed deeply inside as if he had no intention of letting her loose anytime soon. He stared down at her with an intensity that was too much. Her eyes broke free and she let them roam over his features—his mouth held in stern lines, the frown line between his brows, the way the muscles of his neck were so rigidly corded.

  She steeled herself, feeling a need for self-protection. Damn it! Why? Why, why, why? She tried to shut down her brain as she felt a lump in her throat that portended tears. Why couldn’t it have been about her? Why couldn’t he have wanted her so badly that he’d whisked her away to Argentina with no other motive? Fuck it. She admitted that her feelings were hurt but she wasn’t going to allow him to see her cry—yet even as she had the thought she felt the tears well up. She was so damn hurt that she couldn’t even stay focused on her plan of making him fall for her—and every day her emotions only intensified. Every time he made love to her it was so good that she wanted to crawl inside his mind and stay nestled inside his arms. Every time he made her orgasm, the dichotomy of her feelings for him became even more twisted. He made her so angry—but he smelled so damn good. He held her just perfectly, with the right amount of possessive force that made her feel so very wanted.

  But she wasn’t wanted—except for the sexual aspect, which he couldn’t hide.

  The thought made her quickly close her eyes, shutting him out, and she all but felt the discontented roar that came from his gut at her action. He was pissed that she was shutting him out—there was no question he wasn’t happy. Already, all she could think about was slipping away from him, to sleep away from him. She desperately needed peace and she couldn’t have that when he was demanding everything of her. He seemed to want everything she had to give, but didn’t understand that she needed something from him as well. She needed to be alone, to escape from the situation for a few hours through sleep, and to do that she needed to be away from him. It would only be minutes before he fell asleep and then—

  Her thoughts were interrupted as he pulled out of her. He twisted his torso and made a grab for something that was beyond her line of vision.

  Within seconds, manipulating her body until he was spooning her, he wrapped the tie he’d discarded earlier in the evening around her wrist—and then wrapped the other end around his.

  Startled, she tried to sit up as she began tugging at the knot around her wrist. “Get it off!”

  “No,” he bit out sharply.

  “Max—this isn’t funny.”

  “Hell no, it’s not funny,” he snarled, spreading his fingers out until they splayed across her naked stomach in nothing less than pure ownership.

  Erin sucked in a breath, her emotions conflicted. “You can’t keep me tied to your side.”

  His tone sharpened, “Like hell I can’t.”

  Erin twisted around until she was staring him down. “Take it off!”

  His features turned brutal. “Not happening—go to sleep.”

  “Max—”

  “Go to sleep, Erin,” he snapped.

  “I can’t sleep here!” she fought back.

  “You’re going to sleep here. You’re not sneaking off again.”

  “You can’t control my every movement.”

  His dark eyes spitting angry flames, his fingers welded more tightly to her stomach. “Don’t tempt me to prove that I can. You’re going to sleep beside me and you’re damn well going to like it.”

  “You can’t make me like it!”

  “Maybe not yet. But you’re going to like it—trust me on that score.”

  “I don’t trust you!”

  He seemed to freeze at her remark but remained silent with a storm cloud brewing on his features.

  How in the hell could he expect her to trust him? She took a few uneven breaths and then let out the frustration she was feeling. “Your revenge is ridiculous! You want me to be happy—how can that happen when our marriage is nothing but a byproduct of your hatred?”

  His eyes narrowed. “What do you know of it?”

  Her lips firmed. “I know.”

  He studied her for a moment, all the while keeping her clamped to his torso. “Nora’s been shooting off her mouth, hasn’t she?”

  Erin licked her lips. “We talked, yeah.”

  His features turned remote and then changed again. She saw a hint of regret before he said, “I’m sorry you had to find out like that.”

  Max was sad for her? Because he thought her father had cheated on her mother? “My father is not Nora’s father,” she stated unequivocally.

  Even though she could see his frustration, his frown disappeared and his eyes grew softer, almost gentle. “Erin, love, all proof leads to the contrary.”


  She licked her lips and began trying to untie the knot around her wrist as she said, “I can believe it might have been my grandfather—they had the same name—but it wasn’t my dad. I’ll go to my grave believing in his fidelity to my mom. It would take my mother to convince me otherwise, and trust me, that will never happen.” She glanced up from the unmovable knot. “You’re blaming the wrong man, and even worse, you’re taking it out on the wrong men, but that’s not really the point, is it?”

  He seemed to ignore her argument as he reached out and clamped down on her fingers. “Leave it be. You’re not sleeping away from me.”

  “Seriously, Max, I thought your stupid revenge was over a business deal soured by one of my brothers. I know you said it had something to do with your family, but you cannot be serious about this! How the hell can you justify blaming them for something they had nothing to do with? Something they probably don’t even know about?”

  “I don’t have to justify anything—now go to sleep!” he snapped.

  His temper set hers off as she began to frantically work at the knot.

  Fingers of iron clenched around hers, putting a stop to her struggles. “Leave it alone, goddammit. You keep pushing me, Erin, so help me God, I’ll chain you to the fucking bed and keep you in this room—don’t test me!”

  At the ferocity of his tone, her motions stilled as she looked into his eyes. There was something new there—some emotion that she was seeing that was effectively turning her brain to mush. He was pissed and he was frustrated, but for once, there was a glimmer of something—something else shining in his eyes. It confused her already screwed-up brain, so when he snaked his arm around her midriff and clamped her to him, she held still and tried to calm the out-of-control cadence of her pulse rate.

  ****

  Chapter Ten

  Max sank his arm around Erin’s waist and pulled her so tightly into him that he realized he might be restricting her intake of oxygen. Gritting his teeth, he took a couple of calming breaths and then loosened his hold—but only just enough. No damn way he would let her go completely, no matter what. He needed to feel her against him so badly that he felt like he was only partly sane. Yeah, that was it—she was stripping him of his sanity.