Expecting...in Texas (14 page)

The thought that he wanted her this urgently, this all-consumingly scared the hell out of him. Until this moment, he had always prided himself on retaining control.

He couldn’t claim that anymore.

But Cruz stopped a moment before he was going to take her. Savannah looked up at him in the firelight. “What’s the matter?”

Cruz wanted to tell her everything he was feeling. But he’d never shared this remote corner of his soul. Never allowed anyone to come so close to him that he feared being without them. Even with his own family, there were small fences, small recessed paths where he hadn’t let them follow. Telling her what he was feeling right at this moment—needy, confused, aching—would allow
Savannah into a place he had never allowed anyone else to enter. It risked too much, exposed too much. He needed to be self-contained. Loving this way had too many consequences.

Locking the inner door that had opened just a crack, Cruz framed her face and brought his mouth down to hers. “Nothing.”

She tasted the word before she heard it. And if she was going to protest that she knew he was lying, that there was something bothering him, she never got the opportunity. The tender assault he’d mounted blotted out her mind.

Gently pushing her onto the handwoven rug before the fireplace, Cruz reacquainted himself with every inch of her. Instead of the darkness of the stable, he had the light of the fire to show him the way.

He made love with her with every fiber of his being, wanting to lose himself in her, to outrace any thoughts that could hold him back, threatened to destroy this temporary paradise.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his hands creating wondrous feelings that leaped into existence within her.

How many times had he said that to other women as he made love with them? she wondered. It didn’t matter. Tonight, she’d pretend that she
was the first. And the last. She’d pretend to believe him.

Each movement in response to him, each noise of pleasure, of desire that escaped from Savannah only fueled his craving for her. He knew he wasn’t her first lover—that there had been someone before him. But she made him feel as if he were her first. And made him wish with all his heart that he was.

He’d never wanted that before, either. To be the first to take a woman, the first to make her feel like a woman. But he’d want to share that precious moment with Savannah.

If he couldn’t be her first, then he would be her most memorable. He wanted at least that much.

He wanted everything.

He wanted.

Her belly began to quiver as his lips started to forge a long, languid, seductive trail along her body. As the fire’s warm glow bathed her, he kissed the instep of her foot, her ankle, the sensitive skin behind her knee. He worked his way up along her body, discovering places that brought a sweet, sensual rush through her veins, a quickening in her loins.

It was magic.

Twisting and turning beneath him as sensations flashed through her, bringing her up and over, then back to earth, only to start the journey all over
again, Savannah burned for him. She wanted only to be his in the complete, final sense of the word.

Unable to keep the longing under restraint, she raised her hands to him. “I want you,” she whispered.

He’d heard the words before. Had said the words before. But had never felt them in his soul as he did now.

Fighting feelings that had no place in his plans, in the life he had laid out for himself, Cruz gathered Savannah to him roughly. He was angry that he couldn’t divorce himself from all this, the way he usually could.

It was physical, only physical, he told himself. She didn’t have a hold on him.

But she did.

His body over hers, Cruz seized her mouth and lowered himself until he filled her. Her legs encircled his hips, closing around him. Urging him on.

A face like an angel, a body like sin
. The words echoed in his brain as he surrendered himself to the feeling battering at him.

To the feeling, and to her.

The ride was wild, erratic and timeless. Capturing his goal, or being captured up by it—he couldn’t be sure— Cruz could only let it all happen.

Ecstasy released a web of euphoria that blanketed him.

He sank to earth with a smile on his face, and listened to his heart beat against hers. It was a comforting sensation, a comforting sound.

He felt her breath along his face, felt her chest move slowly up and down beneath his. Belatedly, he realized that she was pinned beneath him.

“I’m crushing you.” But as he began to shift away from her, Savannah’s arms went around him.

“Not yet,” she entreated. “Just a little longer.”

The request undid him. Desire, fresh and reborn, sprang up in the wake of the contentment that had, only a second before, spread over him. How the hell could she manage that—to make him want her all over again so quickly? What was it about her that was so different, so compelling?

He raised himself up on his elbows and looked down into her face. Definitely a face like an angel. As for her body… He felt her move. Felt himself hardening. Felt his mouth curve.

“Don’t ask for much, do you?”

She could feel him wanting her, and knowing that made her soar. A smile beginning from the innermost core worked its way out, pervading her body, her heart. She smiled in invitation.

“I try not to.”

He nipped at her lower lip, catching it between his teeth and suckling it before anointing her chin
with his tongue. She moved ever more urgently beneath him. Arousal gripped him more firmly.

Cruz watched in amusement as Savannah’s eyes widened. He laughed softly at the surprise he saw there. He kissed her neck, then whispered against her ear.

“What can I say? You are an inspiration.”

With no thought of looking back, she gave herself up to him.

Savannah stirred. Something warm was draped over her. Cruz? She opened her eyes and saw that it was only a blanket. He wasn’t next to her.

Sadness shot long, tenuous threads through her as she shifted to her other side, ready to get up. Cruz was sitting on her other side, between her and the fireplace. Looking at her.

What was he thinking? She couldn’t read his expression. Was he regretting what had happened? Or was it the baby inside her he regretted? Awake, without the magical mist of lovemaking to mute her thoughts, uneasiness found its home within her again.

Blinking, she tried to focus on something other than the fact that she was completely nude beneath the blanket. And that he was the same, without one. He seemed utterly unselfconscious, despite not having a stitch on.

He was magnificent, she thought.

“What time is it?”

What would it be like, he mused, to be married? To be married to her? He’d seen plenty of marriages, both happy and not, but he’d never cast himself in the role of a husband, a father. It had just never occurred to him to think along those lines.

But now there was a woman—a woman with his child in her belly—and he thought about it. All through the night, as she lay beside him, sleeping, he thought about it.

Would it change him?

Of course, it would change him. It would change everything. But would he mind so much, if it were with her? He honestly didn’t know.

She was looking at him, and he realized that she’d asked a question and was waiting for an answer.

“Late.” And then he shrugged, a bemused smile working its way forward. “Or early, depending on your way of looking at things.” He glanced toward the front window. It was still dark outside. “It stopped raining.”

Feeling awkward, Savannah sat up and gathered the blanket around her. She’d stayed too long. “I should be getting back.”

He caught her wrist, restraining her. Savannah
looked at him, puzzled. Afraid to entertain hopes that insisted on springing up.

“You could stay the rest of the night. Ride back with me in the morning.”

She couldn’t tell by his tone if the invitation was sincere, or if he was just extending it because of his damnable sense of duty again. She pushed the envelope a little. “Do you want me to?”

He released her wrist. “It’d be safer.”

Savannah drew herself up on her knees, the blanket tucked around her like a colorful toga. “That’s not what I asked.”

What was it that she wanted from him? He was trying, wasn’t he? He’d offered to marry her, hadn’t he? Why did she insist on prodding him, on probing his mind? “No, but it’s what I answered.”

Savannah sank back on her heels. “Yes, it is.” And she had her answer in that. Dragging her hand through her hair, she sighed and made up her mind. “I’d better go.” Rising, she held the blanket tightly against her as she began to pick up her clothes.

He didn’t want her out there, alone. People got lost riding around in the dark. Angry at her refusal, he snapped at her. “I said I’d take you back in the morning.”

His anger provoked her own. With her clothes hugged close to her, she glared at him. “I’m not
a library book you have to return to the shelf. You don’t have to ‘take’ me anywhere.”

Just who the hell did he think he was—her disgruntled, reluctant guardian angel? She didn’t need to be protected, or taken care of. There was only one thing she wanted from him, and he apparently couldn’t give her that.

She tossed her hair over her bare shoulder. “I’m very capable of getting around by myself. I found your place in the dark, didn’t I? I can find my way back just fine, thank you very much.”

Incensed, Cruz rose to his feet, unfazed by his nakedness. He fought the urge to shake some sense into her head.

“Why do you have to be so stubborn?” he shouted at her.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s the company I keep.”

Suddenly hearing herself, Savannah bit her lip. With effort, she subdued the anger that threatened to overwhelm her. This wasn’t going to get them anywhere, and it wasn’t the kind of ending she wanted to the evening they’d just spent.

“Look, I didn’t come here for this. To yell and be yelled at. I just came to tell you that I wasn’t turning down your proposal because of any absurd notion that I could ‘do better’ than you.” Her heart was in her eyes as she looked at him, admitting
more than her words did. “I really couldn’t. No woman could.”

If she felt that way, why wasn’t she accepting his proposal? He didn’t really want to get married, but he had helped to create this child and it deserved a name, a home.

“Then I don’t understand—”

Was he that blind? That insensitive? “I don’t want you to marry me because you have to. These are the nineties. Nobody
has
to get married anymore.”

“They do if they have a sense of responsibility.”

“I am not a responsibility, Cruz.”
I’m a person
. “The baby is not a responsibility—”

Sarcasm twisted his mouth. “Several statutes of the law would disagree with you.”

She wasn’t interested in the law, in fine points hammered out by opposing lawyers. She was interested in feelings. She’d felt guilty and worthless, watching her parents go through the confining charade of a loveless marriage for the very reasons he was now attempting to drive home.

Weary, she surrendered a point. “Fine. If it makes you feel any better, you can contribute to the baby’s support.”

“Checks?” he asked sarcastically.

She was tired, and he was haggling. Her temper
frayed. “Cash if you wish.” Exasperated, she threw up one hand. The blanket slipped a little and she yanked it back into place. “Ponies, colored beads, rocks, whatever you want, I don’t care.”

“What about seeing the baby?”

That had never been in dispute. “Any time you want. I intend to tell the baby who his or her father is. You won’t be a secret.” She’d never intended to withhold his identity from her child.

She looked around for somewhere to change. There had to be a room beyond this one. Seeing a doorway, she turned toward it.

“Savannah.”

She looked at him over her shoulder. “What?”

“Don’t go yet.”

The request was tendered in a softer tone, but she was having trouble getting a grip on her roller-coastering emotions. And looking at him like that was hard on her. Because, angry or not, she wanted him again. Would always want him.

“Why?” she demanded. “Because you want to yell at me some more?”

“No.” He crossed to her and laid a hand on her arm, not to restrain her but to entreat her. “Because I want to make love with you some more.”

“I was just going to get dressed—”

He took her clothes from her, dropping them to
the floor. “You can get dressed later. Your clothes aren’t going anywhere.”

And neither was she, she thought. Still, she knew she shouldn’t be giving in this easily “But I—”

Very gently, he took her hands in his. The blanket sank to the floor. “Anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?”

Desire rose, as urgent, as demanding as the first time. Perhaps even more, goaded by the knowledge that forever loomed on the horizon and it was barren because there was no sign of him in it.

“No, you’re the first.”

“Good.” His arms closed around her. “I like being the first.”

Savannah stayed.

Eleven

W
hen Savannah finally returned to the main house, the sun had been up for some time. She wondered if anyone had noticed that she was missing. The house was huge enough for the others to assume that she was somewhere else within the multi-room structure.

Vanessa and Devin being newlyweds, Savannah doubted either would notice she wasn’t there. And as for Claudia and Matthew, they had enough on their minds, with the strain the kidnapping was putting on them, without wondering what had become of the ranch’s new bookkeeper.

Cruz leaned forward on his horse. “You’re blushing,” he whispered.

He found it intriguing that the woman who aroused his passion so fully and fed it so well could turn an endearing shade of pink because she was returning from a night of lovemaking.

“I just don’t want them thinking that I, that we…”

“What does it matter what anyone thinks?” He
had always acted according to his own set of rules, not anyone else’s. “You are over twenty-one and your own person,” he reminded her. “If you want to make love from now until Christmas, it’s not anyone’s business but your own.”