The Texan's Contract Marriage (13 page)

She listened and watched him while he talked, only half hearing what he told her, remembering their kisses and fighting the urge to reach out and touch him. If she did, she would be in his arms again.

In her wildest imaginings, she had never expected to have a marriage of convenience, a honeymoon without making love, a husband who didn’t love her. Yet they were getting to know each other and there was a physical attraction that neither one of them could resist.

It was two o’clock when she stood. “Now I do have to go to bed. I’m sleepy,” she said, picking up an empty glass to take to the kitchen.

He went with her, and as they walked to her new bedroom that adjoined his with closed double doors between them, he draped his arm across her shoulders to draw her against him.

“You’re not staying in here tonight,” she whispered.

“I know I’m not,” he replied. He gazed down at her. “Guard your heart well, Camille. Mine is frozen, and, make no mistake, it won’t thaw.”

“I’ve got your warning,” she whispered. “I’ll take care of myself.”

He kissed her lightly and left.

*

Marek walked to his room, his thoughts on Camille. He would never fall in love and already she had a starry-eyed look and was telling him this would mean more to her with each kiss. He should leave her alone, but that was impossible. She was a desirable, beautiful woman, now his wife, as legally binding as any marriage.

Startled, he realized he was coming back to life fully. It still surprised him how much and how fast she had brought him out of his grief. How huge the transformation since the day Camille had walked into his office! The diminishing of his heartache had been subtle, gradual, but he was less steeped in heartbreak, each week more lusty. Camille was filled with life, her passion for living spilling over onto all around her, including him. He rubbed the back of his neck and wondered where they would be in this relationship a year from now.

Images and memories of Camille returned full force: of Camille in his arms, of kissing her, of her soft lips, of her body, dancing the samba with her and her seductive moves. The memories set his pulse racing and sent his temperature soaring. Maybe someday he would fall in love with her—something that seemed impossible now, but she had brought about changes he would have thought impossible three months ago.

It shocked him how much he wanted her. A month ago, he was completely oblivious to women. But from the moment Camille had slipped into his life, hot, passionate, she had stirred responses from him he hadn’t known he could possibly give again. On their honeymoon he’d wanted her. If she had cooperated they would have consummated their marriage. Even now, he was certain it was only a matter of time before he seduced her. She was a passionate, hot-blooded woman and they were just getting to know each other. He thought her reluctance would melt away because she was responsive to his slightest touch, flirting with him, physically aware of him.

Noah had contributed, too, in bringing him back into the world fully. The baby was adorable, and Marek would do anything to get a laugh out of his tiny nephew, soon-to-be-adopted son. Already he loved the baby as much as if he were his own. If only Kern could have known Noah—how much Kern would have loved the little fellow.

Marek prayed Camille accepted all of their arrangements and let him have a lot of time with Noah. “Kern, you have a fine son,” he said to no one. “I’ll do my best for him.”

Marek showered, climbed into bed and lay in the dark still thinking about the monumental changes in his life, thinking about holding Camille and making love to her.

He slept only a few hours and rose to dress, pulling on fresh jeans and a navy knit shirt. When he entered the kitchen he gave a swift appraisal of Camille in jeans and a red T-shirt. Her hair was caught behind her head in a red ribbon. She smiled and returned to feeding Noah and talking to Ashley, who was already back from visiting her friend. Her bags for her trip to Saint Louis were packed, ready by the door.

Half an hour after Ashley left for the airport, Ginny and her girls arrived to pick up Noah. She got instructions from Camille while Marek loaded the car with Noah’s things. The girls hovered over Noah, who seemed happy with their attention.

As they drove away, Marek stood on the porch with his arm around Camille’s shoulders. As Ginny and the girls waved, Marek and Camille waved in return.

“Thanks for letting them take him.” Marek looked down at her. “Don’t worry about him. He’ll have everyone’s undivided attention, and Ginny is an experienced mom. The girls have found a real live doll to play with. The whole family will hover over him like he’s suddenly been crowned king of the world. They’re only a thirty-minute drive away here in Dallas if you just can’t stand being parted from him.”

Camille smiled nervously as they walked back into the house together. “I won’t worry. I felt ridiculous giving your sister instructions. She’s had two girls and knows more about parenting than I do.”

“You’re used to Noah. All little kids are different.”

“Says the man who told me he knew nothing about babies.”

“You remember that? That was the first week we met.”

“I remember everything about you.”

“Do you really?” Marek turned her to face him. “Have you noticed?”

“Noticed what?” she asked, wondering what she had missed. “You have a new haircut?”

“No. We’re home alone. A moment I’ve been looking forward to for some time. Guess why?” His heartbeat raced in anticipation that had built all morning. He looked into her compelling blue eyes.

“I believe the look in your eyes gives away your answer, but I’ll ask. Why?”

“So I can do this,” he said, drawing her into his embrace.

She tilted her head to give him access to her mouth. He leaned closer, brushing her lips with his, a teasing stroke that caused her lips to part.

“I want you, Camille,” he whispered before his mouth came down on hers.

Eight

H
is tongue toyed with hers, fanning fires deep within her, making her want more of him. Her faint moan was barely audible in her own ears because of her roaring pulse.

They were alone, husband and wife. He had said he could never love again, and she was fully aware this was lust and went no deeper emotionally for him, but they were married. How much had he changed since their first night out? How much would he continue to change?

She framed his face with her hands and opened her eyes to look at him. His breathing was heavy and his eyes half-lidded with a sensual look that conveyed his intentions more than ever. His brow furrowed slightly. “What?”

“You’ve been up front with your warnings, Marek,” she whispered. “I’ll give you one. Guard your heart. If we continue, you may fall in love.”

A harsh, shuttered look changed his expression. “There’s no chance of that—”

She covered his mouth with hers, pressing her lips slowly on his, catching his lower lip lightly in her teeth to stroke slowly with her tongue. He inhaled, gave a conflicted moan as he tightened his arm around her and pulled her hard against him.

His thick erection reinforced his scorching gaze. She slid against him, lowering herself from tiptoe to flat-footed, sliding slowly, sensually along his hard body. Desire pounded in her, a heated longing for total commitment from him. “Marek, I’ve been to a doctor. I’m on the pill.”

He kissed away further conversation. Yanking off his shirt, he tossed it away. While he kissed her, her fingers drifted lightly over him, tracing his sculpted chest muscles, bulging biceps, his hipbones. In feathery caresses her fingers trailed along his upper thighs in her fascination with his body, in her need to be as intimate as possible.

His raspy breathing deepened while his tongue was erotic, heightening her need.

Twisting her hips slowly, inching them over him so he would become aware of all of her, she let one hand drift toward the inside of his thigh and then trail higher.

He leaned away. His midnight eyes flamed with desire, a promise in just a look. Her heartbeat raced while he slipped his fingers beneath her shirt, moving with a tantalizing slowness that made her want to grasp his hands and place them on her tingling breasts as he watched her.

“Marek,” she whispered, wanting to relay her feelings for him, to declare the love that built each day, but she held back, biting back words while she let her care flow into her kisses.

His fingers teased, heightening her desire as his hands caressed her full breasts, circling each and avoiding her taut peaks. Craving his touch, she leaned away to remove her shirt.

Inhaling deeply, he held her to look at her, slowly letting his gaze consume each inch, making her quiver and ache with desire. With deliberation he pulled away the ribbon holding her hair, caressing her nape as he released the ribbon.

“You’re beautiful.”

“Marek,” she said, tugging his shoulders to bring him closer, but he still held her away. He leaned down, his tongue trailing lightly on her throat, down between her breasts, circling underneath as his fingers had. Warm, wet, his tongue heightened her quivering need. Her nipples throbbed, and she grasped his wrists to hold his hands, looking down at him.

With lips swollen from passion and his eyes black from desire, his gaze consumed her while his hands persisted in fiery torment. Desire overwhelmed her, burning, pouring over every inch.

“Touch me,” she whispered.

“I want you to really want my hands, my mouth on you,” he whispered, showering kisses on her throat and lower.

She framed his head in her hands, tangling her fingers in his thick hair to draw him closer, to place his mouth, his kisses, where she wanted.

“Marek,” she cried out in pleasure, gasping and throwing her head back as she clung to him and was immersed in sensation. Desire centered low in her. She thrust her hips against him and caressed him, her fingers shaking as she tried to yank his belt free and shove away the last clothing between them.

He stepped back to do the task himself, still watching her with hooded eyes, a blatant look that made her want to draw him close against her.

With deliberation she unfastened her slacks and let them fall, stepping out of them to kick away her sandals. His chest expanded as he drew a long breath, his gaze roaming slowly over her.

She hooked her fingers in the bikini panties, drawing them slowly down, spreading her legs slightly as she stepped out of the bit of lace.

With a groan that conveyed both need and urgency, he drew her to him. His fingers were everywhere, following the course of his scrutiny and then moving where his gaze could not go between her thighs.

His mouth covered hers again, his tongue sliding over hers with tantalizing deliberation while his fingers toyed with her intimately. Writhing with pleasure, she clung to his broad shoulders, a sensuous thrust of her hips against his hand as she opened her legs farther to give him more access.

While he kissed her, his hands worked magic, making her want him more than she ever had, more than she would have dreamed possible.

“Marek, wait,” she whispered, breaking away with an effort, giving him an intense look before she went down to take his thick rod to caress and kiss him. As his fingers combed through her long hair again, he shuddered, closing his eyes to let her love him with slow deliberation.

She wanted him to burn with need, to be totally aware of her and want her with every fiber of his being. If she could never have his love, she could have his body.

He leaned down slightly to put his hands beneath her arms and pull her up to gaze into her eyes. “Someday I’ll have your heart,” she whispered.

“You’ve been warned,” he whispered in return before he kissed away any reply she might have wanted to make.

So have you,
she mused as he kissed away rational thought. She held him tightly while he pulled her bottom up even more against him as they kissed. Passionate kisses increased desire until she wanted to hold him tightly, wrap her arms around him and urge him to fill her, to make love with her.

He swept her into his arms, walked to the bedroom and placed her on the bed. As he eased beside her, he continued caressing and kissing her. She wanted him with all her being. Their lovemaking had driven her swiftly over the edge. Running her hands over him, she caressed him, trying to drive him to as great a need as she felt.

So many things had been life altering between them—just meeting and informing him about Noah, then marrying him—something in her wildest dreams she had never expected. Now their lovemaking was taking them to a new level—a change from which there would be no going back.

He moved over her, trailing his tongue and kisses down, circling each nipple and then taking each taut peak into his mouth to taste and kiss.

When he shifted lower, his hand slipped over her thighs. While he showered kisses over her belly, she writhed in pleasure beneath him. His tongue toyed with her lush breasts, his fingers creating intimate pleasure, teasing, heightening her need until her pulse pounded and she clung to him, crying out for him in urgency.

“Marek, come here.”

“I’m here, and you’re fantastic,” he said, moving between her legs to trail more kisses along the inside of her thighs.

She cried out eagerly, her fingers winding in his hair while her hips arched to meet him as if seeking more of him.

“I want you,” she gasped, knowing he could never guess the extent of what she felt.

He placed her legs over his shoulders, leaning down to tease the honeyed place, stirring up a wilder storm of passion. Pausing to watch her intently, he kissed the inside of her thigh. “I’m loving you until you’re screaming for me,” he whispered before he dipped between her legs and his tongue ended any rational thought.

“Love me now! I don’t want to wait.”

“I want you to want me more than you ever thought possible,” he said.

“I want you with all my being,” she whispered, arching her back, absorbed by desire. She gasped for breath. “Marek.”

Her eyes flew open and she met his gaze, saw his intent and closed her eyes, wanting him and unable to wait longer. He eased partially into her, slowly filling her, a hot, hard torment more erotic than all else. Then he slipped away in a sensuous move that increased her need. She arched to meet him, and he entered her again.

She arched beneath him, crying out in longing and pleasure as they rocked together until urgency overwhelmed her.

Certain he held back to pleasure her, she thrust her hips faster until she felt his control shatter. His hips rocked with hers, tension reaching the ultimate peak. She cried out as rapture enveloped her and she soared with pleasure.

He followed, thrusting in a wild release that wracked him with spasms. His weight came down heavy, masculine, welcome. She held him tightly, feeling their hearts pound together.

“You’re mine, my husband,” she whispered, certain he wouldn’t hear her.

“Ah, Camille, my love, this is good. I never thought this possible. You’ve taken me to paradise.”

Flowery words, precious, intimate moments. She meant everything she said and she could only wish that he did, too. She ran her fingers through his hair, watching black locks spring away. “You’re a handsome man, Marek Rangel. And an incredibly sexy one.”

He smiled, showering light kisses on her face and throat. “You win that prize. I want to keep you in my arms all night long.”

“If you do, you know what will follow.”

“I have no idea. Let’s try it and see what happens,” he said, teasing her.

She smiled at him while she ran her fingers over his jaw, feeling the stubble that was beginning to show. “You’re a handsome devil, Marek Rangel.”

“And you’re stunning,” he said. He rolled to his side, taking her with him, and they faced each other while he smiled with satisfaction.

“This is a good marriage, Camille. We’ll be good for Noah.”

She laughed. “You say that only days since our wedding. It hasn’t been a month yet. You can’t tell whether this is good or bad.”

“Of course I can. You don’t think it’s good?”

“It’s wonderful,” she replied. “Noah is happy, and now he has a daddy, which I think is a fine thing for him. He’ll have grandparents because Jess will be another grandfather, I suspect. He has aunts who love him, now more cousins.”

“Ginny and her family are already crazy about him. In his quiet way, Jess is, too.”

“I’m glad. I’ve told you in June I will perform
La Traviata
here in Dallas. I will sing Violetta’s part. I want you to come for opening night.”

“I’d be delighted,” he said.

“If you don’t care for opera after you’ve been to a performance, tell me. I know not everyone does. I won’t burden you with attending again if you don’t like it.”

“I’m going to love watching you,” he said and she smiled, shaking her head.

“You have no idea whether you will or not. Save the flowery declarations until you can say them truthfully.”

He grinned. “I think I will love it. Afterward, will you come home?”

“Of course. There may be a party, but eventually I’ll come home. You’ll be with me, whatever I do.”

“Then I’ll be happy. I told you earlier, I’ve waited eons to be alone with you. It seemed this time would never arrive.”

“You wasted no time when they all left,” she remarked drily.

“If you knew how much I’ve thought about making love to you, you’d know why I wasted no time.” He propped his head on his hand. “Want to shower or sit in a hot tub and relax?”

“When you put it that way, the hot tub wins.”

Standing, he picked her up and she wound her arm around his neck. “You’re a feather.”

She laughed. “Hardly. It takes a body to have the voice I have. No feather here.”

“A gorgeous, lush, to-die-for beauty,” he said, carrying her to his sunken tub. She watched as he began to fill the tub and shortly they both sat with her in front of him, between his legs, while he caressed her lightly, toyed with long strands of her hair and talked about growing up spending a lot of his life on his grandfather’s ranch.

He carried her back to bed and made love to her again, loving her through the night. Afterward she stayed in his embrace, still talking about their lives before they had met each other. He asked about her career, and she could feel a closer bonding with him. Did he feel the same or was this a casual conversation that he would forget swiftly?

He rolled on his side, holding her close with one arm while he propped his head on his other hand. “Camille, we’re married. Share a bedroom with me.”

Startled, she gazed into his inscrutable dark eyes. “I’m surprised you want that,” she said, giving herself time to think, but also admitting the first thought that came to mind. This was not something she had expected, and her heart leaped. Could this mean that he cared more for her?

“I’ve given it thought. Our sex life is fantastic,” he declared in a husky voice, brushing a kiss on her lips. “I like having you in my arms and in my bed. I would like that on a regular basis. We’re husband and wife—why not? We are making love and it’s good. I like being with you. It’s that simple.”

A mixture of feelings gripped her. His declaration and invitation to sharing a bedroom meant a big shift in their relationship. She loved him, and her deepest reaction was joy. Along with it was awareness of all she had worked to achieve. What would a closer relationship, her growing love for him, do to her career?

Was her relationship with Marek a threat to her career? She might be reading more into his actions than she should, but this was a wonderful change in so many ways. The more she could be intimate with him, the more they were simply together and enjoyed each other’s company, the more likely he was to lose that barrier around his heart. There was a far better chance of his falling in love if they lived together as husband and wife.

But if he did, could she cope with Marek’s demands and the demands of her career?

She had to follow her heart.

She shifted slightly to wrap her arm around him. “Yes, I will move in with you.”