His Virgin Wife: The Wedding in White / Caught in the Crossfire / The Virgin's Secret Marriage

“No. He usually just sticks a pin in the organ or vein or artery he wants us to identify.”

“Barbarian,” he muttered.

She grinned. “That’s what we call him when he isn’t listening,” she admitted. “Actually, we have a much more thorough course of study in biology than most of the surrounding colleges, because most of our students go on to medical school or into nursing. Biology is a real headache here, but none of our students ever have to take remedial courses later on.”

“That says a lot for the quality of teaching.”

She smiled. “So it does.”

He went over the anatomy schematic with her until she knew the answers without prompting. But it was ten o’clock when she started to yawn.

“You’re tired,” he said. “You need a good night’s sleep, so you can feel up to the exam in the morning.”

“Thanks for helping me.”

He shrugged. “What are neighbors for?” he asked with a chuckle. “How about a cup of hot chocolate before I go home?”

“I’ll make it.”

He stretched lazily on the carpet. “I was hoping you’d offer. I can’t make it unless I have something you just stir into hot milk. As I recall, you can do it from scratch.”

“I can,” she said smugly. “Won’t take a jiffy.”

She got down the ingredients, mixed them, heated the milk in her used microwave oven and took two steaming mugs into the living room. He was still sprawled on the carpet, so she sprawled with him, both of them using the sofa for a backrest while they drained the warm liquid.

“Just the thing to make me sleep,” she murmured drowsily. “As if I needed help!”

“Do you think you know the material now?” he asked.

“Inside out,” she agreed. “Thanks.”

“You’d do the same for me.”

“Yes, I would.”

He finished his drink and put the mug on the side table, taking hers when she emptied it and placing it beside his.

“How do you feel about the other exams?” he asked.

“That material, I do know,” she told him. “It was just a question of reviewing my notes every day. But this biology was a nightmare. I never thought I’d grasp it. You have a knack for making it sound simple. It isn’t.”

“I use a lot of it in my breeding program,” he said on a lazy stretch. He flexed his shoulders. “You can’t get good beef cattle unless you breed for specific qualities.”

“I guess not.” Her eyes went involuntarily to his high cheekbones, his straight nose, and then down to that disciplined, very sensuous mouth. It made her tingle to look at it.

“You’re staring,” he murmured.

“I was just thinking,” she replied absently.

“Thinking what?”

She shifted a little and lowered her eyes, smiling shyly. “I was thinking that you’ve never kissed me.”

“That’s a lie,” he returned amusedly. “I kissed you last Christmas under the mistletoe.”

“That was a kiss?” she drawled.

“It was the only sort of kiss I felt comfortable with, considering that my brothers and my sister were staring at us the whole time,” he said with a twinkle in his dark eye.

“I guess they’d run you ragged if you made a serious pass at someone.”

“I’ve made several serious passes at you,” he replied, and he didn’t smile. “You don’t seem to notice them.”

She colored, and her voice felt choked. “I notice them, all right.”

“You run,” he corrected. His gaze fell to her soft mouth and lingered there. “I’d enjoy kissing you, Nat,” he added quietly. “But a kiss is a stepping-stone. It leads down a road you may not want to walk right away.”

She frowned, puzzled. “What sort of road?”

“I don’t want to get married,” he said simply. “And you don’t want to have intercourse.”

“McKinzey Killain!” she exclaimed, outraged, sitting straight up.

“There’s another word for it.” He grinned wickedly. “Want to hear it?”

“You say it, and I’ll brain you with your own boot!” she threatened, making a grab for one of the highly polished pair lying just past his hip.

He was too quick for her. He caught her arm as it reached his abdomen and jerked her down on the other side of him, turning her under a long, powerful leg and arm with speed and grace.

She found herself flat on her back looking into his taut, somber face. She’d expected laughter, amusement, even mocking good humor. None of those emotions was evident. He was very still, and his good eye held an intimidating expression.

She could feel the powerful muscle of his thigh across hers, the pressure vaguely arousing. She could feel the hard, heavy beat of his heart against her breasts in their light covering. She could taste his breath on her mouth as he stared at her from point-blank range. She began to feel hot and swollen all over from the unfamiliar proximity. She didn’t know whether to try to laugh it off or fight her way off the carpet.

He seemed to sense her internal struggle, because that long leg moved enough to pin her in a position that was just shy of intimate.

She jerked and moved her hips. He caught them with one big, lean hand and held her down hard.

“Don’t do that,” he said huskily, “unless you’re in a reckless mood.”

She stilled, curious.

He let go of her hip and slid his hand into her hair, tugging off the band that held it in place behind her ears. He smoothed her hair over the carpet and looked into her face with an expression that bordered on possession.

His fingers trailed down the side of her neck to the opening of her blouse and lingered there, tracing a deliberate pattern on the soft skin that provoked a shiver from her responsive body.

His long leg moved, just barely, and her lips parted on an audible sound as her body arched involuntarily.

His hips shifted, pinning her, and his face hardened. “Do you know what that does to me? Or are you experimenting?”