Marriage On Demand

“That’s my point. You want me because I’m different, and dangerous. You want me to help you forget. You want me to be the exciting bad thing in your life. You want me in your bed.”

She couldn’t have been more shocked if he’d slapped her. How had he guessed? Had she been that obvious?

“I—I don’t want you,” she stammered, knowing she was blushing and praying the candlelight was faint enough that he wouldn’t see the color flaring in her cheeks. All her confidence disappeared like smoke in the wind. She turned to leave, but he grabbed her arm and held her in place.

“Did you hope I wouldn’t see what you were thinking?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

She moaned softly, shame joining embarrassment.

“Did you imagine I couldn’t read the fantasies, Rebecca, that I didn’t notice you staring at me, wanting to touch me, wanting me to touch you?”

It was worse than her dream about showing up naked at church. She felt as if someone had stripped her bare and was now mocking the pitiful being she was inside. Her soul felt raw, scourged by the sharp edge of his words. She had to get out, run away and hide. He was laughing at her. Making fun of her. She wanted to die.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, trying to turn away. Tears threatened. She blinked them back, but it wasn’t enough. One rolled onto her cheek. “Just let me go. I’ll never bother you again.”

He released her arm, but before she could step away, he placed his hands on her shoulders and drew her close.

“Damn you, Rebecca Chambers, don’t cry. I warned you I was a bastard. Why couldn’t you have listened? I’m not trying to hurt your feelings. I want you to understand that I’m nothing like the man you think I am. There’s nothing good in me. Forget me. Find another Wayne and have babies.”

His gentle words washed over her, easing some of her exposed rawness inside. His body was warm and hard, offering shelter and comfort. She sniffed back her tears until he touched her hair. The tender stroking of his palm on her head was more than she could stand.

Her sob caught her by surprise. Her whole body shook. “I’m sorry,” she said, trying to get control. “I—I’m not usually like this. I think it might be the f-fire and everything.”

“I know. It’s okay. You cry as much as you want.”

She didn’t want to cry at all, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. His strong arms wrapped around her, holding her safely in his embrace. His heartbeat was steady against her cheek. She cried for all she’d lost, for the children’s fears and her own. She whispered her concerns, about lying alone at night and wondering how she was supposed to keep it all together. She confessed that the responsibility scared her sometimes, but she kept on because there was no one else.

When the sobs had faded to sniffles, she became aware of the fact that her mouth rested against the bare skin of his chest. He was damp from her tears, yet still warm and smelling faintly musky. Through the thickness of her robe—his robe—she could feel the length of his legs, but little else save his heat. His hands moved up and down her back with long, comforting strokes. His chin rested on her head and he spoke quietly to soothe her.

“You must think I’m a fool,” she said, knowing she should pull away, but not wanting to.

“No. I think you’re very special. I’m sorry I said anything. I didn’t want to hurt you. I was trying to make you see that I’m not anyone’s idea of a fantasy lover.”

“I don’t want a fantasy.”

His hands grew still.

She raised her head until she could stare at him. “You’re right, Austin. I do—” she searched for the right word “—think you’re attractive, partially because you’re nothing like Wayne. But I don’t have a romantic fantasy about you. I don’t know you well enough to be picturing home and hearth.” She swallowed hard. He’d apologized to her, but she was the one who’d started the whole thing. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you. If I’d known you could tell what I was thinking, I would have thought about something else.”

His gray eyes flickered with some emotion she couldn’t read. His mouth twisted into a wry smile. “I wasn’t complaining,” he said. “I was trying to explain why I was turning you down. I won’t deal with your regrets.”

“And if I promise not to have any?” she asked without thinking.

“Rebecca.” His voice was a low growl. She felt it vibrate in her own chest and realized her breasts were plastered against him. She thought about pulling away, but didn’t. A wave of courage surprised her. She might never have this chance again.

In a way he was perfect for her. As he’d pointed out, he wasn’t interested in a relationship. She’d already figured that one out on her own. He was wild and experienced. She would never choose to fall in love with someone like him. Which was what made him so safe. She was a twenty-nine-year-old virgin, and she needed a man to fix that. She’d recently started dating, but had always broken things off before they got serious. She didn’t want to have to explain about her condition. She’d tried twice and both men had stared at her as if she were a two-headed snake. Being a virgin at her age said something about a person, and she didn’t like what it said about her. She’d been saving herself for Wayne and then he was gone. Her gift had no meaning, save a painful one. It reminded her of what she’d kept from him. She wanted it done away with.

Who better to help her out than Austin? Heaven knew she’d had enough fantasies that being in bed with him would almost be familiar.

“I’m serious,” she said, drawing in a deep breath and sliding her hands up his arms to his shoulders. She could feel the rock-hard strength of his muscles. “Maybe if we make love, I’ll get over my crush and leave you alone.”

“That doesn’t say a whole lot about my skills in bed,” he muttered.

She was afraid he would be repulsed by the idea and turn away, but he didn’t. His hands resumed their stroking of her back, but this time they moved lower, sliding over the curve of her derriere.

“No regrets,” she said. “No dreams about white picket fences. No fantasies about a future together, I promise.”

His gaze locked on hers. She couldn’t read his emotions. It was like staring into a bottomless pool or jumping off a cliff into a cloud. She didn’t know how far down she would go. Would he catch her, or let her fall and shatter?

He brought his hands around to her face and cupped her cheeks, then lowered his head toward hers.

She drew a breath in anticipation of their kiss. His mouth brushed hers, slowly, carefully, as if she were the most fragile of creatures. Back and forth, back and forth. Her fingers curled slightly as she gripped his shoulders. Her knees began to tremble.

He pulled back. Their gazes met and for the first time she could read something in his eyes. Desire. It dilated his pupils so much the gray got lost in a sea of need. Until that moment, she’d wondered if she was setting herself up again. Had he toyed with her, making her confess her wants, knowing he shared none of them?

Now she knew the truth. He shared the trembling, the heat. Her confidence returned and with it the sense of rightness about her decision. Austin Lucas might be the devil, but she trusted him not to hurt her. She smiled slightly. So much for being logical. For the first time in her life, she was going on instinct.

“No regrets? You promise?” he asked.

She knew this was completely insane, but it felt right. Wayne was gone. She needed to get on with her life. Austin was the perfect solution. Plus, she would finally find out if her fantasies had come close to the real thing. She smiled. “Yes.”

It was as if her single word gave him the permission he’d been waiting for. Before she knew what was happening, he buried his hands in her hair, holding her head still. His fingers flexed against her scalp, sending tingling sensations down her spine.

His mouth angled over hers, searing her with hot, fast kisses. He devoured her, sucking her bottom lip, nibbling on her top. He touched his tongue to the corners of her mouth, then swept across the closed seam, urging her to part for him.

She opened to admit him, her breath already quickening with anticipation. In and around, over and under. Hot, wet, seeking. He plunged inside like a marauding warrior, ready to take that which he’d won. Then he retreated, playing with her, touching, stroking, tasting, discovering every inch of her tender mouth, making her pant with longing.

His hands moved down from her head to her neck. His thumbs traced a line from her chin to the hollow of her throat. His fingers left small warm brands on her sensitized skin.

She clung to him, her anchor in the storm, her source of strength. Mindless half phrases passed through her consciousness. It had never been like this. Not with those men she’d dated, not with Wayne. Before, the buildup had been slow, gentle kisses, a natural progression from kissing to petting. It had been quiet and lovely.

Not frantic like this. Her body was too hot, quivering with need and heat. Her breasts ached. Her nipples pressed against the terry cloth, throbbing for his touch. Between her legs an answering echo pulsed in time with her thundering heartbeat.

His mouth left hers and moved along her jaw to her ear where he whispered that she was beautiful. His tongue traced the shape of her ear. His teeth nibbled on her lobe. Ribbons of heat and desire rippled down her body, making her legs shake and threaten to buckle.

She slipped her hands down his chest and across to the bare strip of skin exposed by his open shirt. He was warm to her touch, smooth except for the crinkling hair. Muscles bunched under her fingers. She moved to his waist and drew her palms up slowly, then across his broadness. He answered with a quick intake of air.

She felt his hand at the tie of the robe. With one tug, it was free. He grabbed the collar, then drew it apart and down her arms. She was naked before him.

The cool air of the room surprised her. Without thinking, she brought her hands up to cover her breasts. As always, their small size embarrassed her.

Austin stared into her eyes. “Has there been anyone since Wayne?”

The intensity of his gaze made it impossible to lie. Not that she would have, anyway. “Just a few dates.”

“So you haven’t made love with anyone in the past couple of years?”

She swallowed. “No.” She hadn’t made love with anyone, ever, but he hadn’t asked that.