His Marriage Pact

“Normally, I’m not, but I think we deserve a toast.” He held the glass aloft. “To an arrangement that will allow us to both win in the end.”

As long as the end didn’t include an emotional hijacking, she’d drink to that. “To winning,” she said as she touched the flute to his.

After taking a few sips, Paris leaned back in the seat, looked out the window and noticed the slow-moving traffic. “It’s going to take forever to get to the airport.”

Dallas downed the rest of the champagne and grimaced before setting the glass aside. “That’s what happens in Houston during rush hour. Guess we should have planned better.”

The situation could work to their advantage. “Since we have the extra time, we should probably use it to get to know each other.”

He scooted closer, draped his arm over the back of the seat and grinned. “I’m game.”

“I don’t mean that.” Even though that would be tempting.

He slid a fingertip down her cheek. “Are you sure? I mean, we are newlyweds and we’re in this big old limo with all this room. The driver can’t see a thing with the window up.”

More very vivid images filtered into her thoughts. Risqué images that caused her face to fire up. She didn’t know whether to fan herself or faint. “I’m referring to discussing details about each other, in case anyone asks. After all, we’ve presumably been together for three years.”

He released a rough sigh. “Talking wasn’t what I had in mind.”

“Of course not. You’re a man. You’re averse to conversation.”

He traced a random pattern on her knee. “Not always. Just at the moment.”

She slapped her palm on his hand and placed it on the seat between them, even though she considered sliding it up her thigh. “Now, now. Be a good groom. We both know the terms.”

“I don’t like the terms one damn bit.”

In reality, neither did she. But she liked the thought of another divorce even less. “First get-to-know-you question. What’s your favorite color?”

“Brown. Yours?”

“Coral. Favorite pastime?”

“I thought I made that clear right before you threw the no-sex terms up in my face.”

Definitely a bad boy. “Your second favorite then.”

“Taking a long, hard ride on a—”

“Dallas,” she said in a scolding tone.

“Bull.” He tried on an innocent look that didn’t quite erase the devilish gleam in his blue eyes. “What did you think I was going to say?”

The man knew exactly what she’d been thinking, and with good reason. “Moving on. Favorite food?”

“Steak.”

She knew the answer to that before she’d asked the question. “I love hummus with red peppers.”

He frowned. “I’d rather eat hay. Your favorite vacation spot?”

“I haven’t been on a vacation in so long I couldn’t really say. I do know it’s not Vegas. I’ve seen enough of that place to last a lifetime.”

“Never been a big fan,” he said. “Except when I was at the National Finals Rodeo. Now that I’ve retired, give me a fishing trip any day.”

“I’ve never been fishing,” she said.

“Never?”

“No. My father spent his career on boats so he avoided taking us anywhere that involved water.”

Dallas remained quiet for a while before he asked, “How would you feel about going fishing?”

“Today?”

“Sure. We’ve got to spend our honeymoon somewhere, not to mention the press is hanging out at the ranch, waiting for our return. We could just kick back a couple of days. I can teach you how to cast a line and we can just relax.”

Had this been a traditional marriage, she might have preferred a tropical paradise in lieu of a fishing excursion. However, that fit Dallas’s cowboy persona, not consuming fruity drinks with umbrellas during an island escape. Avoiding any more media coverage for the time being sounded like a good idea no matter where they went. She did see one problem. “I didn’t pack a bag, Dallas.”

“Just leave it all up to me. I promise you’ll have everything you need.”

She trusted he would make good on that promise. “Okay. Exactly where will we go?”

“Lady, this is your lucky day. I just happen to know this little cabin on a lake.”

* * *

It had to be the biggest log cabin she’d ever seen.

When they’d arrived at the airport an hour ago, they’d been greeted by a fiftysomething-year-old man who’d delivered Dallas a tricked-out black truck, complete with leather seats, satellite radio and a high-tech computer. They’d immediately set off for Texas Hill Country, northwest of San Antonio, luggage on board as promised, for their impromptu honeymoon. And now they traveled up a steep drive lined by a myriad of trees toward another magnificent property.

“This place is really yours?” Paris asked as Dallas pulled into the circular drive and stopped before the front door.

He turned off the ignition and gave her a prideful smile. “Yep. I helped build it with my own two hands a couple of years ago. It’s a nice place to escape, although I don’t get to enjoy it often enough. Now wait right here.”

After undoing her seat belt, Paris remained in her seat while Dallas rounded the hood and helped her out. He only let go of her hand to open the pine door, and then caught her completely off guard when he picked her up into his arms.

She had a little trouble catching her breath as he stepped inside. “What on earth are you doing, Dallas?”

“Carrying my bride over the threshold.”

Even her official first husband hadn’t done that. “Isn’t this a bit of overkill considering our situation?”

“The caretaker doesn’t know our situation,” he said as he set her on her feet atop the wood plank floors. “And I don’t know if he’s left yet. I’m going to check the place over then I’ll bring in the bags.”

After Dallas left her alone to her devices, Paris readjusted her dress and tightened the band at her nape. The man had literally swept her off her feet. Imagine that. If not careful, she might actually start viewing him as a real husband. Not wise at all.

Pushing the concerns aside, she surveyed the great room with floor-to-towering-ceiling windows that afforded a view of the wooded terrain. Or what she could see of it now that the sun had disappeared. The place was rustic, like its owner, but charming all the same. Most of the accent pieces appeared to be antiques, with a lot of Western art and bronze statues. The heavy wood furniture with tufted cushions could have been handmade, and the decor most likely had been strictly selected by Dallas. She could also tell it wasn’t nearly as large as his ranch house, but just as masculine if not more so. In fact, she saw no evidence whatsoever of a woman’s touch.

A few minutes later, Dallas came back through the front door, toting the suitcases, and startling her senseless. “All clear.”

“How did you manage to sneak by me?”

He set the suitcases down by the oversize sectional. “I went out the back door then walked around to the front.”

Logical, though she couldn’t lay claim to much logic of late. “Oh. Makes sense.”

He pointed to his left. “Kitchen and dining room are in there, along with the back door.” He then pointed to his right. “Bedrooms are that way. All have their own private bath. You can pick whichever one you want.”

“Which one is yours?”

He cracked a crooked grin. “I was hoping you’d pick that one.”

Apparently he didn’t intend to give up on the sex thing very easily. “You and I both know that’s not a good idea, sleeping in the same bed.”

“I know no such thing. I think it’s a great idea. That way if someone comes calling, we’ll at least appear to be the happy couple.”

Stubborn man. “Do you routinely have people randomly show up in your bedroom?”

He rubbed his chin and looked as if he had to think about that. “Maybe a time or two back when I was a teen and managed to sneak a girl into my bedroom. But I’m fairly sure Maria isn’t going to make a trip down here for that. In fact, she would expect us to be sharing a bed. Jenny, too.”

“Do they not know the terms of this marriage?”

“Not exactly, but they do know me.”

She had begun to know him, too. She’d also begun to realize resisting him would prove to be a major challenge. “Humor me and show me to my own room, okay?”

He gave her that little boy shrug. “Okay. But this isn’t like any honeymoon I’ve ever read about.”

This wasn’t like any marriage she’d ever heard of, either. “You’ll survive.”

“Maybe, but I will be walking funny.”

“Ha, ha.”

She shadowed Dallas’s steps as he led her into a hallway, bags in hand, and stopped at the first open door. “This is probably the smaller of the three, but I think it suits you.”

Paris stepped into the room to find the four-poster queen bed draped in an orange-and-white cowhide. “I refuse to sleep with a dead animal.”

Dallas chuckled behind her. “It’s not real, just made to look that way.”

She turned around and scowled. “It’s not very tasteful.”

“It’s my taste. Get used to it. Are you hungry?”

Not anymore. “The little vegetable sandwiches they served us on the plane will tide me over. Right now I’d like to get these shoes off and get into something more comfortable.”

“Need any help with that?”

“No, but I do need my suitcase.”

He laid her bag on a bench at the foot of the bed. “Lady, you seem to be lacking in the fun department.”

“And you seem to have an overabundance of testosterone.”

“That I do, and I won’t apologize for it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of asking for an apology.” She brushed past him and unzipped the case, only to find some skimpy barely-there bright red nightie. “Who packed this?”

He leaned over her shoulder, his warm breath filtering over her neck. “I’d guess Jenny. She wants to make sure the groom is happy.”

“I’m never going to wear this, you know.”

He slid his arms around her and whispered, “Stranger things have happened.”

She couldn’t argue with that. This whole marriage pact was incredibly strange. The butterflies in her tummy were stranger, still. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d been so sexually charged she wanted to jump out of her own skin. Or jump into bed with a man she barely knew. Easy. Never.

For her own protection, Paris wrested away from Dallas and strode to the door. “Now run along like a good boy, and take your suitcase with you.”

He headed toward her, a determined look on his face. “They’re both yours. I have everything I need in my bedroom. Almost everything.”

She didn’t have to ask what he meant by that. “Before you go, is it safe to take a walk before bed?”

“Sure. Go out the back door and you’ll find a path to the lake.”

“Is it well lit?”

“The moon is full tonight. That’s enough light for you to see where you’re going. Just don’t fall into the water. And watch out for snakes.”

She cringed. “Snakes?”

He had the gall to grin. “Just kidding. The cats keep them away.”

“Cats?”

“Yeah. Big ones. Attack cats. But they’ve been trained not to bother pretty girls.”

With that, he exited, closing the door behind him, leaving Paris alone to unpack, and ponder how she would find the strength of will to ignore his overtures, and her own needs.

She returned to the suitcases, thankful to find something other than naughty negligees in the mix. In the smaller one, Jenny had packed every toiletry known to womankind, and enough underwear to last two months, not two days. The woman had also packed jeans and a few T-shirts, and from those Paris picked her favorite coral knit top and pair of seen-better-days denim with a slash above the right knee, a small hole on the inside of her left thigh, and a pocket that was barely hanging on. That suited her current state of mind.

After exchanging her formal dress for comfort, she kicked out of her heels and donned the slide-on sneakers that had been stashed in a side pocket. Now she felt more human, if not more calm. Too bad they’d left the champagne in the limo.

She didn’t need alcohol, she needed some peace and quiet. Time alone to reflect. With that in mind, she headed into the hall and located the well-equipped kitchen—which was almost as nice as the one back at the ranch—then made her way out the back door.

Dallas had been right about the moon. It cast the manicured lawn in an amber glow and helped guide Paris down the dirt path toward a copse of trees. Fortunately someone had had the foresight to cut a wide clearing in the woods, otherwise she might have been hesitant to continue. A few yards away she could see the shimmering lake and headed in that direction, all the while aware of the sounds of nature, including what sounded like an owl. She managed to make it to the dock without stepping on a critter or coming upon the attack cats.

Once there, she strolled to the end of the pier and lowered herself onto the wooden slats, then hugged her knees to her chest. A slight breeze blew across her face, bringing with it the pleasant scent of cedar. She heard the sound of chirping and an occasional rustle of leaves, which might have unnerved her if she would have still been walking.

On afterthought, she rolled up her jeans, took off her shoes and dangled her feet in the water that was much colder than she’d predicted. But after a while she acclimated to the temperature change and rocked back on her elbows to study the host of stars in the night sky.

For the first time that day, she experienced true tranquility. A sense of well-being as she soaked her sore feet in silence.

“Mind if I join you?”

Paris gasped and nearly vaulted right into the water. She shifted around, palm against her pounding heart, to find Dallas standing above her. “Jeez, you scared me to death!”

He sat beside her without waiting for an invitation and draped his arms on bent knees. “Did you think I was a snake? Or maybe one of the tomcats. Just so you know, they don’t talk.”

“You startled me because I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Next time I’ll whistle.”

Like that would help her anxiety over being accosted by random wildlife. “I’m surprised I didn’t hear you.”

“No kidding. This dock creaks like box springs on an old iron bed.”

No real shock he would bring up a bed analogy. “I was very deep in thought.”

“About?”

“Today. This whole thing seems so surreal.”

He shifted slightly, leading Paris to believe maybe he was suffering from bride remorse. “Yeah, I know. Never thought it would happen to me.”

Her conjecture could very well be right. She wouldn’t know what might be on his mind unless she asked. “So what brings you here, other than this bizarre situation?”

“I owe you an apology.”

That she hadn’t expected. “For what?”

“I’m sorry for coming on too strong. But I won’t apologize for wanting you so badly I ache.”

She’d never felt so flattered in her life. “Apology accepted, and I’d be telling one colossal lie if I said I wasn’t extremely attracted to you. But—”

“But what?” He gave her a meaningful look. “If you’re worried about the whole annulment thing, I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“I won’t lie under oath. And I have a feeling your integrity won’t allow that either.”

His sigh cut through the silence. “You’re right about that. One thing I learned from my father, deception takes no prisoners. I do think we can find other ways to answer our needs.”

Was he suggesting an open marriage? “If you’re going to ask if you can see other women, that’s your call, but rest assured I wouldn’t feel right seeing other men.”

“I’m not saying that at all,” he said. “We can explore each other without going beyond the limits.”

“You mean only foreplay?”

“You got it, darlin’. It’s my favorite kind of play.”

The thought of his hands on her made her shiver in a very nice way. “That would certainly be new and different for me.”

He frowned. “Your husband wasn’t into foreplay?”

The understatement of the millennium. “Let me sum up our sex life in a few words. Hi, Paris, just passing through, only have a minute, got to go, see you later. That happened about once a week unless he wasn’t in the mood. He always said I was too uptight about my body, but what did he expect when all he did was criticize me?”

“Why in the hell were you with that ass?”

The sheer anger in his voice took her aback. “I was young and stupid. He was my first lover and the first man who really paid attention to me. At least in the beginning. When I got him hired on at the firm, everything changed. I’m fairly certain he cheated on me, although I didn’t have any proof. Eventually I didn’t even care.”

Dallas let go a litany of curses. “You’re damn special, Paris. You deserve to be treated that way. And if you want me to show you how good it can be between a man and a woman, all you have to do is ask.”

When he rose to his feet, Paris realized she didn’t want him to leave. “Where are you going?”

“To grab a snack, take a cold shower and then head to bed.”

“Could you stay a little longer?”

“I could, but being so close to you and not being able to touch you is killing me.”

She recognized the risk she’d be taking, but she truly craved his attention because she knew with all her heart he would treat her with respect. “I want you to touch me, Dallas. I need you to touch me.”

He stood statue still and after a few moments asked, “Are you sure?”

She held her hand toward him. “If you’ll help me up, I’ll go back to the house with you.”

“No need for that.”

Paris had no idea what he planned to do next when he, too, rolled up his jeans, sat back down, pulled off his socks and boots, then positioned himself behind her, his legs on either side of her thighs. Right at that moment, Paris felt something at her feet beneath the water and gasped again.

“Just relax sweetheart,” he told her as he pulled the band away, pushed her hair aside and kissed the back of her neck.

“It’s not you. Something was nibbling on my toes.”

His slow laugh sent pleasurable chills down her spine. “Darlin’, I can do that, but you’ll have to wait until it’s warmer or until you have your feet out of the lake.”

She smiled back at him. “You mean you wouldn’t jump in the water if I asked you?”

“Not unless you’re waiting for me, naked.”

Interesting concept, albeit not logical. “We probably should put that on hold for a couple of months.”

“It’s a deal.”

He kissed her then, thoroughly, stroking her tongue softly with his in a heady rhythm that made her want to climb all over him. If she reacted so strongly to this simple show of affection, she couldn’t imagine what she would do if he did anything else.

She would soon find out, she realized, when he broke the kiss and rested his cheek against her cheek, reached beneath her shirt and unclasped her bra. For a moment she felt like a schoolgirl making out with her first real boyfriend in a backseat, an experience she’d never really had. But when Dallas tugged the tee up over her head, taking the bra with it, she knew she was in the hands of a real man. Naked from the waist up. In wide-open spaces.

She should be mortified over being so exposed, but she honestly didn’t care. She should have been self-conscious when Dallas whispered, “Watch,” but instead she waited with excited anticipation. And the minute he began to circle her nipples simultaneously with his fingertips, she grew hotter than blazes in places still unseen.

As much as she wanted to continue to see what Dallas was doing, Paris closed her eyes and leaned back against him to savor the sensations.

“Feel good?” he asked, his voice low and grainy.

“Yes.”

When Dallas slid his palm down her belly, Paris held her breath. And when he began to toy with the button on her jeans, she automatically tensed.

“Just tell me to stop and I will.”

She frankly hoped he kept right on going, but then he suddenly halted everything, much to her disappointment. She opened her eyes and stared at him blankly. “I didn’t say anything.”

He moved from behind her, rolled down his jeans, put on his boots then stood. “I think that’s enough for tonight.”

She snatched the discarded shirt and clutched it to her bare breasts. “I don’t understand.”

“Put your shirt on and I’ll walk you to the house.”

Somewhat miffed, Paris slid the tee over her head, stood and shoved the bra in her back pocket. “I can find my way.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“No. I’m mad at myself for falling into your trap. Nothing good could ever come of mixing business with pleasure and in reality, this is a business arrangement as you have reminded me several times.”

“Between two consenting adults who have the hots for each other.” He had the nerve to wink. “Darlin’, a lot of good could come from it, as soon as you realize sometimes you can’t control chemistry. Just let me know when you’re ready to explore all our options.”

“Don’t count on that happening,” she said to Dallas as he strode away, leaving her alone to wonder why she couldn’t resist him. Why she had let him go so far. Why he could so completely splinter her coveted control, and she welcomed it.

He might have caught her in a moment of weakness, but from that point forward, she vowed to reclaim her power. Call all the shots in this sexual game he seemed determined to play. Turn the tables on him. The time had come to shed her insecurities and prove to him—and to herself—that she could be a strong woman capable of going after what she wanted, wisdom be damned. Business be damned. Fact was, she wanted him.

Perhaps she hadn’t been born a natural seductress, or acquired any real skills in thirty-two years, but it was never too late to learn. When it came right down to it, celibacy wasn’t the least bit fun.

Six

Celibacy sucked swamp water.

Dallas had discovered that recently but learned long ago the lack of merit in a cold shower. He’d taken one anyway at dawn, following one helluva restless night. Afterward, he’d headed to the kitchen, made a strong pot of coffee, a couple of scrambled eggs and ate them at the kitchen island like he did every morning at the cabin. But his normal news catch-up routine had been disrupted by visions of the woman sleeping down the hall. Just the thought of touching Paris again, going further, going all the way, kept him from focusing on the state of the global markets. But he had to remember the annulment terms—no sex in the real sense.

If he had any hope of maintaining his sanity for the next twelve months, he had two options—take care of the problem himself, or convince Paris they should take care of each other, even if it meant not fully consummating the marriage. He liked the second plan best. Taking it slow seemed to be the only way to accomplish that goal, even though it would damn sure prove to be real hard. Literally. Now if he’d been a dishonorable jerk, he would’ve crawled into bed with her last night to solve the problem, knowing he’d had her exactly where he’d wanted her before he left her on the dock.

The problem only grew more obvious when Paris padded into the room on bare feet, wearing some short flimsy peach-colored robe, her hair piled on top of her head in a messy ponytail. On one hand, she was about as cute as a newborn foal. On the other, she looked sexy as hell, even with her face free of makeup.

She sauntered over to the counter, poured herself a cup of coffee, then turned a sleepy smile on him. “Happy birthday and good morning, handsome husband.”

She looked like a birthday gift he wanted to thoroughly investigate. “Mornin’, pretty wife.” He’d never dreamed those words would ever leave his mouth. But then he’d never imagined meeting anyone like her, either. He liked the way she moved. The way she talked. Her intelligence. Her body. And he knew he would seriously like the way she loved if she gave him the chance to partake of all the benefits that most married couples enjoyed.