Did You Say Married?!

Chance’s touch, the sound of his voice when he called her “sweetheart,” and the realization that she’d been dreaming about making love with him helped to clear her sleep-fogged brain. She had absolutely no business fantasizing about the man, even if it was in a dream and he was her temporary husband. They weren’t going to be married any longer than it took for the ink to dry on the annulment papers.

After dreaming about being loved by the man, she realized sitting close to him wasn’t going to bring her pulse back down to a normal rate or stop the awareness she felt in every nerve ending in her body. She scooted over to the passenger side of the bench seat.

Blinking against the bright flashing neon sign in front of her, it took a moment to comprehend where Chance had parked the truck. “Why are we stopped at a pharmacy?”

He unbuckled his seat belt and reached for the door handle. “I have a few things I want to pick up before we find a motel.”

“Motel?” Her mind came to full alert. She thanked the moon and stars above that her voice didn’t sound as panicked as she felt. Chance had to be the sexiest, best-looking and most charming cowboy she’d ever met. She had a feeling that’s what got her into this mess to begin with. Spending another night with him would definitely not be in her best interest.

He pushed the door open with his shoulder. “You didn’t think we’d drive straight through, did you?”

“Yes. No.” Confused, she shook her head. “I hadn’t thought much about it.”

She’d been so preoccupied with how to avoid Mike, she hadn’t even considered when, or if, they’d be stopping for the night. But with more than eight hundred miles between Las Vegas and Amarillo, it stood to reason they wouldn’t be driving straight through to Chance’s ranch.

Lost in thought, she missed what Chance asked next. “What?”

“Are you going inside or staying here?” His smile made her insides tingle.

“I’ll wait here.”

She needed time to think. If he was planning a repeat of last night, he’d better think again. They might be married, but they wouldn’t be sleeping together.

“Need anything?” Chance asked, getting out of the truck.

“No.” And if you’re buying what I think you’re buying, you might as well save your money.

“You’re sure?” he asked one last time.

“Yes.”

He shrugged. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

He closed the driver’s door, then walked to the entrance, his long-legged stride relaxed and confident. Like a man who knew what he wanted and how to go about getting it. The mere thought made her warm all over. And that was wrong. All wrong.

Narrowing her eyes, she watched him disappear inside the drugstore. “You’d better not be buying anything more than a toothbrush, cowboy.”

Several minutes later, Chance strolled back across the parking lot to the truck as if he didn’t have a care in the world. When he grinned at her through the truck window, her stomach fluttered. She pressed herself against the passenger side door. No man had the right to exude that much charm and sex appeal, or make her flutter in places no man had ever made her flutter before.

When he opened the door and slid into the driver’s seat, he tossed a sack onto the dash. “Ready to find a room?”

“Two rooms,” Kristen said, making sure to put all her determination into her tone. “And I’m paying for mine.”

His mouth thinned to a flat line as he started the truck, put it in reverse and backed from the parking lot. “No, you won’t.”

Kristen shook her head. “I mean it, Chance. I intend to pay—”

“Like hell you’ll pay for a room,” he said, his own voice just as determined. “We’re married. I’ll take care of the bill.”

“Don’t be silly,” she said reasonably. “We won’t be married for long, and besides, neither one of us intended for it to happen.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Chance was every bit as stubborn as Mike, she decided, her level of frustration rising another notch. She’d never been able to get Mike to budge on anything once he’d made up his mind, either.

Chance pulled into a motel parking area a few blocks from the pharmacy. “You’re my responsibility as long as your last name is Warren.”

Without another word he got out of the truck and slammed the door with a resounding thud.

His responsibility.

Her heart sinking, Kristen watched him enter the motel lobby. How many times in her life had Mike said the same thing almost word for word?

She squeezed her eyes shut. It shouldn’t matter. Chance Warren wasn’t much more than a stranger. But for some reason his viewing her as a responsibility made her want to cry. Why couldn’t she ever be more to someone than an obligation?

When Chance returned a few minutes later and slid behind the steering wheel, Kristen couldn’t help but notice his hesitant expression. “What’s wrong?”

He started the truck and pulled around the side of the building. “These places along the interstate fill up fast.”

“Really?” She had a sinking feeling at what he was about to tell her, but she asked, anyway. “Why do you say that?”

“You’re never going to believe this,” he said, parking in front of a bank of numbered doors.

“Tell me and we’ll see if I will or not.”

He removed the keys from the ignition, then turned to face her. “I’m really sorry, Kristen, but they had only one room available.”

She shook her head. “You’re right. I’m not buying it.”

“Honest,” he said, holding his right hand in the air as if he were taking an oath on a witness stand. “We wouldn’t have been able to get this room if they hadn’t had a late cancellation.”

One look at the parking area told her he was telling the truth. The place was packed, and she was going to have to spend the night in the same room with her husband. The fluttering in her stomach went absolutely berserk.

“We could go somewhere else,” she said, sounding desperate even to herself. “Surely this isn’t the only—”

He shook his head. “The desk clerk called around. Every motel in town is filled up.”

“Then we’ll just keep driving,” she said. Her heart rate increased and her palms began to sweat. “I’m sure there’ll be something available farther down the road.”

“Look, I understand how you feel,” Chance said, his voice tight. “But we got a late start, we’re both tired, and the possibility of finding something between here and Albuquerque is slim to none.”

She looked miserable at the thought of spending the night with him. Why that bothered him, Chance wasn’t sure. But it did.

He plucked the sack from the top of the dash, got out of the truck and came around to open the passenger door. “We’ll just have to make the best of it.”

“Please tell me there are two beds,” she said, her voice not much more than a whisper.

She definitely wasn’t going to like his answer to that one. He cleared his throat. “Uh…well, now that you mention it, I’m not real sure.”

“You didn’t ask?”

When he shook his head, her eyes turned to a sparkling, stormy green. It fascinated the hell out of him. She was mad as a wet hen, and absolutely gorgeous. He suddenly remembered just how beautiful when the image of her nude body lying next to his flashed through his mind.

The thought of spending another night in the same bed with her—his body pressed to her softness, his hands cupping the weight of her perfect breasts—had his hormones racing around like a steel bearing in a pinball machine headed for full tilt. Trying to ease the increasing tightness of his jeans, he shifted from one foot to the other.

He helped her from the truck and bit back a groan. The feel of her soft hand in his sent a jolt of electricity up his arm. It quickly spread down to explode in his lower gut. Maybe driving on to Albuquerque wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

One look at the shadows beneath her eyes and he abandoned that notion immediately. She was exhausted. When she swayed, he put his arm around her waist and a tender, protective feeling surged through him.

“Steady there, sweetheart.”

“Turn me loose.”

She tried to pull away from him, but Chance held on to her as they walked to the motel room. He told himself he was just making sure she didn’t pass out and fall, but he knew better. She just felt too damned good to turn loose.

He slipped the key into the lock, swung the door open and flipped on the light. The room had one window, one lamp, one table with one chair.

And one bed.

“This isn’t going to work,” Kristen said flatly.

She turned to leave, but Chance put his hands on her shoulders to stop her. Staring down into her eyes, he decided a man could get caught up and drown in the emerald depths.

“Kristen, we’re both tired and you aren’t feeling well. We can handle this.” He tried to make sure his voice sounded convincing despite the serious reservations beginning to claw at his gut. “Nothing is going to happen.”

She stared up at him for several long seconds before determination replaced the shadows of doubt in her steady gaze. “You’re right. We can handle this situation. We’re both adults.”

Chance nodded. “You can have the bed. I’ll take the floor.” He wasn’t looking forward to the stiff back he’d wake up with the next morning, but maybe a little discomfort would help him control an even bigger discomfort in other regions of his body.

“We’ll make out just fine,” she agreed, looking around the room.

The top of the paper sack crackled from his hand tightening into a death grip around it. Apparently, the double entendre hadn’t occurred to her, but it wasn’t lost on Chance. When he felt in danger of drawing her to him and showing her just how fine he’d like to make it, he backed toward the door.

“At least the room’s clean,” she offered.

“Which suitcase will you need for tonight?” he asked suddenly. It seemed they were both trying to ignore the obvious.

“The small carry-on has everything I’ll need for now,” she replied, walking across to the vanity area of the room.

The gentle sway of her hips and the length of her slender legs made sweat bead on his forehead. He swallowed hard. Although certain details were still hazy, he remembered that less than twenty-four hours ago those same hips had cradled him, her long legs wrapped around him as she held him tightly to her. He muttered a curse. He was within an ace of picking her up, carrying her to the bed and making love to her until they both collapsed from exhaustion.

“Did you say something?” she asked, without turning to face him.

“I’ll…uh, just go out and get what you want, then see if I can rustle us up some sandwiches. I think I saw a burger joint about a block down from this place.”

Good Lord! I’ve got to get out of here.

He needed to get away from her in order to regain control of the fire building in places he’d rather not dwell on. If he didn’t, he figured he’d be setting off the smoke detector just about any minute.

“I’ll be back,” he said, tossing the pharmacy sack onto the table.

Chance closed the door, walked to his truck and leaned heavily against the side. How was he going to spend the night with Kristen and keep his hands to himself? Just the thought of sleeping in the same room with her had him hard as hell and throbbing with anticipation. He couldn’t recall a lot of what happened last night, but he did remember it had been the sweetest, most passionate loving he’d ever experienced.

He gritted his teeth against the fresh wave of heat coursing through him, jerked open the passenger door and reached into the back of the extended cab for the suitcase she’d requested. He wasn’t sure what a man was supposed to do with a woman who wasn’t going to be his wife for longer than it took to have their marriage annulled, but he knew for certain a roll in the hay wasn’t it.

When he returned to the motel, he deposited the carry-on bag just inside the motel room and told Kristen he was going to get them dinner.

Kristen watched Chance pull the door shut behind him. She was dying of curiosity, but she forced herself to wait until she heard his truck engine start before she grabbed the sack he’d tossed on the table. She had to find out why he’d stopped at the pharmacy.

With shaking fingers, she unfolded the top, then reached inside. The items she pulled from the bag stopped her cold. Chance hadn’t purchased condoms as she expected. She almost wished he had. It certainly would have made it easier to resist him if she’d found he was blatantly planning a repeat of the night before. But he wasn’t. He’d bought several books on pregnancy and prenatal care. She scanned the titles on the covers, and a couple of them shook her to the very foundation of her soul—A Father’s Guide from Conception to Birth and How to Ease Your Wife’s Labor and Delivery.

Placing the books back inside the sack, she sank into the chair beside the table. Just when she thought she had the man figured out, he went and did something like this. Never in a million years would she have guessed he’d take the possibility of fatherhood so seriously. It was almost as if he actually wanted her to be pregnant.

She shook her head, rose from the chair and crossed the room to stand in front of the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. She didn’t look pregnant. Turning sideways, she pulled her blouse from her tailored slacks and flattened the blue silk to her stomach. How would she look if she were expecting?

No, that wasn’t going to work, she decided. Her stomach was way too flat. Walking over to the bed, she grabbed a pillow, stuffed it under her blouse, then waddled back to stand in front of the mirror. She turned from side to side, assessing the bulge beneath her breasts. What would it feel like to have Chance’s baby moving inside her?

A contented feeling began to warm the farthest corners of her soul. If she were pregnant—which she wasn’t—it would be the first time since her mother’s passing that she’d have someone to love and who loved her unconditionally in return.

So intent on the image of herself in the mirror and her thoughts of impending motherhood, it took Kristen a moment to realize she wasn’t alone. When she looked up, Chance stood right behind her, his eyes filled with a heat that took her breath away. Her heart pounded hard in her chest and her cheeks burned.

“I didn’t—” she jerked the pillow from beneath her blouse and sailed it toward the bed “—hear you come in.”

“I hope a hamburger and fries will be all right. They didn’t have a lot to choose from.” The passionate gleam in his eyes didn’t waver, but his words were as innocuous as hers.

Good. It appeared they were both going to ignore the humiliating situation.

“That’s fine. I think I’ll take a shower first, then eat.” She felt his gaze follow her across the room to where he’d set the overnight case. Gathering the few items she’d need, Kristen forced herself to walk calmly toward the bathroom when what she really wanted to do was find a hole, crawl into it and pull the opening in behind her. “But you go ahead before it gets cold.”

She closed the door, then leaned against it for support. The last thing she wanted to do was give Chance the impression she thought he might be right about her being pregnant. She’d just been curious, that’s all.

Chance watched Kristen take another bite of a french fry and thought he might explode right then and there. Her teeth nipped at the end of the crisp potato strip a moment before her tongue licked away the lingering traces of salt from her lips.

He mentally ran through every curse word he knew as he crossed the room, closed the bathroom door behind him, stripped off his clothes and reached into the shower to turn on the water. He wasn’t looking forward to stepping beneath the icy spray. It was going to chill him to the bone, make his teeth chatter and send certain parts of his anatomy into traumatic shock.

A phrase from his rodeo days came to mind as he anticipated how the water would feel. Whenever a rider drew a rank horse or bull, or suffered from the aches and pains that went along with riding the rough stock, he gritted his teeth, swallowed the pain and uttered two simple little words before doing what had to be done. Chance glanced down at the lower part of his body and the phrase “Cowboy up” took on a whole new meaning.

Cursing a blue streak, he stepped into the shower. He yelped when the cold spray hit his skin, raising goose bumps. He shivered uncontrollably. The chill coursing through his body helped to restore some of his sanity and reduce the fever burning in his belly, but not nearly as much as he’d hoped.

Before tonight, he’d never in his life been aroused by the sight of a pregnant woman. And he’d probably have slugged the first person who even dared to suggest that he would be.

But Kristen standing in front of the mirror with the pillow stuffed under her shirt, her slender fingers splayed along the sides of her pretend belly, had excited the hell out of him. She’d looked so beautiful, so feminine, so…pregnant—with his child.

He shook his head, shut off the water and grabbed a towel. He supposed any woman would wonder what she’d look like in the advanced stages of pregnancy. But until tonight the thought had never crossed his mind.

Now it was all he could think about. How would Kristen look six months from now if she did have his baby nestled safely inside of her? How would the taut skin of her belly feel under his hands? As her pregnancy advanced, would they have to be creative with their positions when he made love to her?

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.