Полная версия
A Wife for a Westmoreland / Claiming His Royal Heir: A Wife for a Westmoreland
“Derringer!”
He lowered his head again and his tongue slid easily inside her mouth. She continued to grind against him, accepting everything he was giving. Moments later, after breaking off the kiss, he threw his head back and whispered the name again in a deep guttural tone, and he continued to stroke her into sweet oblivion.
Lucia slowly opened her eyes while wondering just how long she’d slept. The last thing she remembered was dropping her head onto the pillow. She’d been weak, spent and totally and thoroughly satisfied after making love to the sexiest man to walk the face of the earth.
He was no longer on top of her, but was asleep beside her. She missed the weight of him pressing down on her. She missed how his heart felt beating against hers, but most of all she missed the feel of him being inside her.
Remnants of ecstasy were still trickling through her when she thought of what they’d done and all they’d shared. Being gripped in the throes of orgasm after orgasm for several long moments was enough to blow anybody’s mind and it had certainly done a job on her. And the way he had looked down at her—during those times he wasn’t kissing her—had sent exquisite sensation after exquisite sensation spiraling through her. Even with the bandages covering his chest and parts of his back, she had felt him—the hardness of his shoulders and the way the muscles in his back had flexed beneath her fingertips.
There was no way she could or would forget tonight. It would always be ingrained in her memory despite the fact that she knew he probably would not remember a single thing. That thought bothered her and she fought back the tears that threatened her eyes. They should be tears of joy and not of sorrow, she thought. She had loved him for so long, but at least she had these memories to cherish.
The rain had stopped and all was quiet except the even, restful sound of Derringer’s breathing. Day was breaking and she had to leave. The sooner she did so the better. She could just imagine what he would think if he woke and found her there in bed with him. Whatever words he might say would destroy the beautiful memories of the night she intended to keep.
And her guess was that someone—any one of his brothers, sisters or cousins—might show up any minute to check up on him. They, too, would be shocked as heck to find her there.
She slowly eased out of bed, trying not to wake him, and glanced around for her clothes. She found all the items she needed except for her panties. He had taken them off her while she was in bed, so chances were they were somewhere under the covers.
She slowly lifted the covers and saw the pair of pink panties were trapped beneath his leg. It would be easy enough to wake him and ask him to move his leg so she could get them, but there was no way she could do such a thing. She stood there a moment, hoping he would stir just a little so she could pull them free.
Lucia nervously gnawed on her bottom lip, knowing she couldn’t just stand there forever, so she quietly began getting dressed. And only when the sun began peeking over the horizon did she accepted that she had to leave quickly … without her panties.
Glancing around the room to make sure that was the only thing she would be leaving behind, she slowly tiptoed out of the room, but not before glancing over her shoulder one last time to look at Derringer. So this was how he looked in the early mornings. With his shadowed face showing an unshaven chin while lying on the pillow, he looked even more handsome than he’d been last night.
He would probably wonder whose panties were left in his bed, but then he might not. He bedded so many women that it wouldn’t matter that one had left a pair of their panties behind. To him it might not be any big deal. Probably wouldn’t be.
Moments later while driving away, she glanced back in her rearview mirror at Derringer’s home, remembering all that had taken place during the night in his bedroom. She was no longer a virgin. She had given him something she had never given another man, and the only sad part was that he would never, ever know it.
Two
Some woman had been in his bed.
The potent scent of sex brought Derringer awake, and he lifted his lids then closed them when the sunlight coming through his bedroom window nearly blinded him. He shifted his body and then flinched when pain shot up one of his legs at the same time his chest began aching.
He slowly lifted his head from the pillow, thinking he needed to take some more pain pills, and dropped it back down when he remembered he might have taken one too many last night. Megan would clobber him for taking more than he should have, but at least he’d slept through the night.
Or had he?
He sniffed the air and the scent of a woman’s perfume and of sex was still prevalent in his nostrils. Why? And why were clips of making love to a woman in this very bed going through his brain? It was the best dream he’d had in years. Usually a dream of making love to a woman couldn’t touch the reality, but with the one he’d had last night, he would beg to differ. He could understand dreaming about making love to a woman because it had been a while for him. Getting the horse business off the ground with his brother Zane, his cousin Jason and their newfound relatives, those Westmorelands living in Georgia, Montana and Texas, had taken up a lot of his time lately. But his dream had felt so real. That was one hell of an illusion.
Nevertheless, he thought, stretching his body then wishing he hadn’t when he felt another pain, it had been well worth the experience.
He reached down to rub his aching thigh, when his hand came in contact with a lacy piece of material. He brought up his hand and blinked when he saw the pair of lace bikini panties that carried the feminine scent he had awakened to.
Pulling himself up in bed, he studied the underthings he held in his hand. Whose were they? Where had they come from? He sniffed the air. The feminine scent was not only in the panties but all over his bed as well. And the indention on the pillow beside him clearly indicated another head had been there.
Monumental panic set in. Who the hell had he made love to last night? Since now there was no doubt in his mind he’d made love to someone. All that pleasure hadn’t been a figment of his imagination, but the real thing. But who had been the woman?
He closed his eyes and tried to come up with a face and couldn’t. It had to have been someone he knew; otherwise, who would have come to his house and gotten into his bed? He had messed around with some pretty brazen women in his lifetime, but none would have dared.
Hell, evidently one had.
He opened his eyes and stared at the wall, trying to recall everything he could about yesterday and last night. He remembered the fall off Sugar Foot’s back; there was no way he could forget that. He even remembered Zane and Jason rushing him to the emergency room and how he’d gotten bandaged up and then sent home.
He definitely recalled how his brother and cousin kept saying over and over, “We told you so.” He remembered that after he’d gotten into bed, Megan had stopped by on her way to the hospital where she worked as an anesthesiologist.
He recalled when she’d given him his pain medicine with instructions of when to take it. The pain had come back sometime after dark and he’d taken some of the pills.
Hell, how much of the stuff had he taken? He distinctly recalled the E.R. physician’s warning that the painkillers were pretty potent stuff and had to be taken when instructed. So much for that.
Okay, so he had taken more pain medicine than he was supposed to. But still, what gave some woman the right to enter his home and take advantage of him? He thought of several women who it could have been; anyone who might have heard about his fall and decided to come over and play nursemaid. Only Ashira would have been bold enough to do that. Had he slept with her last night? Hell, he sure hoped not. She might try to pull something and he wasn’t in the market of being any baby’s daddy any time soon. Besides, what he’d shared with his mystery woman had been different from anything he’d ever shared with Ashira. It had been more profound with one hell of a lasting effect.
He then remembered something vital. The woman he’d slept with had been a virgin—although it was hard to believe he could remember that, he did. And it was pretty far-fetched to think there were still any of them around in this day and time. But there was no way in hell he could have imagined her innocent state even with a mind fuzzy with painkillers. And he knew for certain the woman could not have been Ashira since she didn’t have a virginal bone in her body. Besides, he had a steadfast rule to leave innocents alone.
Derringer sighed deeply and wished, for his peace of mind, that he could remember more in-depth details about last night, including the face of the woman whose virginity he had taken. The thought of that made him cringe inside because he knew for certain he hadn’t used a condom. Was last night a setup and the result would be a baby just waiting to be born nine months from now?
The thought of any woman taking advantage of him that way—or any way—made his blood boil. And anger began filling him to a degree he hadn’t known was possible. If the woman thought she had gotten the best of him she had another thought coming. She had not only trespassed on his private property, but she had invaded his privacy and taken advantage of him when he’d been in a weakened, incoherent state.
If he had to turn over every stone in Denver, he would find out the identity of the woman who’d had the nerve to pull one over on him. And when he found her, he would definitely make her pay for her little stunt.
“Lucia, are you all right?”
It was noon and Lucia was sitting behind the desk of her office at the Denver branch of Simply Irresistible, the magazine designed for today’s up-and-coming woman.
The magazine, Chloe’s brainchild, had started out as a regional publication in the Southeast a few years ago. When Chloe had made the decision to expand to the West and open a Denver office, she had hired Lucia to manage the Denver office.
Lucia loved her job as managing editor. Chloe was editor in chief, but since her baby—a beautiful little girl named Susan—was born six months ago, Chloe spent most of her time at home taking care of her husband and daughter. Lucia had earned a business-management degree in college, but when Chloe had gotten pregnant she had encouraged Lucia to go back to school and get a master’s degree in mass communications to further her career at Simply Irresistible. Lucia only needed a few more classes to complete that degree.
Lucia figured it would only be a matter of time before Chloe and Ramsey decided they would want another baby, and the running of Simply Irresistible’s Denver office would eventually fall in her lap.
“Lucia!”
She jumped when Chloe said her name with a little more force, getting her attention. “What? You scared me.”
Chloe couldn’t help but smile. It had been a long time since she’d seen her best friend so preoccupied. “I was asking you a question.”
Lucia scrunched up her face. “You were?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, what was your question?”
Chloe shook her head, smiling. “I asked if you were all right. You seem preoccupied about something and I want to know what. Things are looking good here. We doubled our print run for April’s issue since the president is on the cover, so that shouldn’t cause you any concern. What’s going on with you?”
Lucia nibbled on her bottom lip. She needed to tell someone about what happened last night and since Chloe was her best friend, she would be the logical person. However, there was a problem with that. Chloe was married to Ramsey, who was Derringer’s oldest brother. There was no doubt in Lucia’s mind Chloe would keep her mouth closed about anything if she asked her to, but still …
“Okay, Lucia, I’m only going to ask you one more time. What’s wrong with you? You’ve been acting spaced out since I got here, and I doubt you were listening to anything Barbara was saying during the production meeting. So what’s going on with you?”
Lucia breathed in deeply. “It’s Derringer.”
Frowning, Chloe stared. “What about Derringer? Ramsey called and checked on him this morning and he was doing fine. All he needed was a dose of pain medication and a good night’s sleep.”
“I’m sure he got the dose of pain medication, but I don’t know about the good night’s sleep,” Lucia said drily, before taking a long sip of cappuccino.
“And why don’t you think he got a good night’s sleep?”
Lucia shrugged, started to feign total ignorance to Chloe’s question and then decided to come clean. She looked up and met her friend’s curious gaze.
“Because I spent the night with him and I know for certain we barely slept at all.”
She could tell from the look that suddenly appeared on Chloe’s face that she had shocked her friend witless. Now that she had confessed her sins, she was hoping they could move on and talk about something else, but she should know better than to think that.
“You and Derringer finally got together?” Chloe asked. The shocked expression had been replaced by a smile.
“Depends on what you mean by got together. I’m no longer a virgin, if that’s what you mean,” Lucia said evenly. “But he was so over the top on painkillers he probably doesn’t remember a thing.”
The smile dropped from Chloe’s lips. “You think so?”
“I know so. He looked right in my face and asked me for my name.”
She took the next ten minutes and told Chloe everything, including the part about the panties she had left behind. “So that’s the end of it,” Lucia finished her tale by saying.
Chloe shook her head. “I really don’t think so for two reasons, Lucia. First, you’re in love with Derringer and have been for a very long time. I don’t see that coming to an end any time soon. In fact, now that the two of you have been intimate, you’re going to see him in a whole new light. Whenever you run into him, your hunger for him will automatically kick in.”
Chloe’s expression became even more serious when she said, “And you better hope Derringer doesn’t find your panties. If he does find them and can’t remember the woman he took them off of, he will do everything in his power to track her down.”
Lucia preferred not hearing that. She gripped the handle of her cup tightly in her hand. Turning away to look out the window to view downtown Denver, she drew in a deep ragged breath before taking a sip of her coffee. She hoped Chloe was wrong. The last thing she needed was to worry about that happening.
“With his reputation with women it will be like looking for a needle in a haystack.”
“Possibly. But what happens if he finds that needle?”
Lucia didn’t want to think about that. She had loved Derringer secretly for so long, she wasn’t sure she wanted that to change, especially when he didn’t love her back.
“Lucia?”
She turned and looked at Chloe. There was a serious expression on her best friend’s face. “I don’t know what will happen. I don’t want to think that far. I want to believe he won’t remember and let it go.”
A few moments passed. “What I said earlier was true. Whenever you see Derringer, you’re going to want him,” Chloe said softly.
She shrugged. “I’ve always wanted him, Clo.”
“Now it will be doubly so.”
Lucia opened her mouth to deny Chloe’s words and decided not to waste her time because she knew Chloe was probably right. She had thought about him all that day, barely getting any work done. She kept playing over and over in her mind just what the two of them had done together. “I will fight it,” she finally said.
Chloe bristled at her words. “It won’t be that simple.”
She could believe that. Nothing regarding Derringer had ever been simple for her. “Then what do you suggest I do?” Lucia said with resignation in her voice.
“Come out of hiding once and for all and go after him.”
She wasn’t surprised Chloe would advise her to do something like that. Her best friend was the daring one. She never hesitated in going after anything she wanted and she’d always envied Chloe for being so bold and brave.
Chloe must have seen the wistful look in her eyes and kept pushing. “Go after him, Lucia. Go ahead and take Derringer on. After last night, don’t you think it’s about time you did?”
A week later, Jason Westmoreland glanced over at his cousin and grinned. “Was that supposed to be a trick question or something?”
Derringer shook his head as he eased back in the chair. He’d done nothing over the past few days but stay on his pain medication and get plenty of sleep. Each time he awoke he would reach under his pillow and pull out the panties he had placed there just to make sure he hadn’t dreamed the whole thing. They proved that he hadn’t. And the name Puddin’ Tame, the alias the woman had given him, kept going through his mind.
This morning he woke feeling a whole lot better and decided to lay off the pills. He hoped clearing his head would trigger something in his memory about what happened a week ago. So far it hadn’t.
Jason had dropped by to check on him and the two were sharing early-morning coffee at the kitchen table. “No, it’s not a trick question. I figured I’d ask you first before moving on to Riley, Zane, Canyon and Stern. Afterward, I’ll compare everybody’s answers.”
Jason inclined his head with the barest hint of a nod. “Okay, I’ll give your question a shot, so go ahead and repeat it to make sure I heard you right.”
Derringer rolled his eyes and then leaned closer to the table. His expression was serious. “What can you tell about a woman from the panties she wears, both style and color?”
Jason rubbed his chin a moment. “I would have to say nothing in particular unless they are white, granny-style ones.”
“They aren’t.” He hadn’t told Jason why he was asking, and Jason, the easygoing Westmoreland, wouldn’t ask … There was no doubt in Derringer’s mind that everyone else would.
“Then I really don’t know,” Jason said, taking a sip of his coffee. “I think some pieces of clothing are supposed to convey messages about people. I picked white because it usually means innocence. But then again, Fannie Nelson had on a pair of low-riding jeans one day that showed her white panties, and she is a long way from being innocent.”
“Aren’t you curious as to why I want to know?”
“Yes, I’m curious, but not enough to ask. I figure you have your reasons and I don’t want to come close to thinking what they might be.”
Derringer nodded, understanding why Jason felt that way. His cousin knew his history with women. And what Jason said was true. He had his reasons, all right.
“So what do you plan to do today now that you’ve returned to the world of the living? I heard the E.R. doc tell you to take it easy for at least a week or so to recuperate, so you’re still under restrictions,” Jason reminded him.
“Yes, but I’m not restricted from driving. I’m going to hang around here and take it easy for a few more days before venturing out anywhere.”
“I’m glad you’re following the doc’s advice. Although things could have been worse, that was still a nasty fall you took. And as far as your question regarding women’s undergarments, I suggest you talk to Zane when he gets back from Boulder.” Jason chuckled and then added, “And be prepared to take notes.”
Two days later Derringer left home for the first time since his accident and drove to Zane’s Hideout. He was glad to see his brother’s truck parked in the yard, which meant he was back. Jason was right. He should have been prepared to take notes. Zane, who was only fourteen months older but a heck of a lot wiser where women were concerned, had no qualms about telling him what he wanted to know.
According to Zane, the color and style of a woman’s panties said a lot about her. Sexually liberated women wore thongs or barely-there panties, all colors except white, and they rarely wore pastel colors. Most of them preferred black.
Zane further went on to say that women who liked to tease men wore black lace. Women who preferred lace to any other design were women who liked to look and feel pretty. And bikini panties weren’t as popular these days as thongs and hipsters, so a woman still wearing bikini panties weren’t as sexually liberated as others.
Derringer smiled when Zane, with a serious look on his face, advised him to steer clear of women who wore granny panties. Zane furthermore claimed that women who wore red panties gave the best blow jobs. Those with yellow panties the majority of the time weren’t afraid to try anything and were pretty good with a pair of handcuffs. Blue panties–wearing women were loyal to a fault—although they had a tendency to get possessive sometimes, and those who preferred wearing green were only after your money, so the use of double condoms was in order.
It had taken his brother almost an hour to make it to pink panties and, according to the Laws of Zane, women who wear pink panties were the ones you needed to stay away from because they had the word marriage written all over them, blasting like neon lights. They were a cross between innocent and a woman with an inner hunger for getting laid. But in the end she would still want a wedding ring on her finger.
“Okay, now that you’ve taken up more than an hour of my time, how about telling me why you’re so interested in a woman’s panties,” Zane said, eyeing him curiously.
For a moment Derringer considered not telling his brother anything, but then thought better of it. He, his five brothers and all his cousins were close, but there was a special bond between him, Zane and Jason. Besides, it was evident that Zane knew a lot more about women than he did, so maybe his brother could give him some sound advice about how to handle what had occurred that night, just in case he had been set up.
“Some woman came over to my place the night I was injured and let herself in. I can’t remember who she was, but I do remember making love to her.”
Zane stared at him intently for a moment. “Are you absolutely sure you made love to her and didn’t imagine the whole thing? When we took you home from the hospital—right before I had to take off for the airport—you were pretty high on those pain meds. Megan figured that you would probably sleep through most of the night, although she set out more medicine for you to take later.”
Derringer shook his head. “Yeah, I was pretty drugged up, but I remember making love to her, Zane. And to prove I didn’t dream the whole thing, I found her panties in bed with me the next morning.” What he decided not to say was that as far as he was concerned, it had been the best lovemaking he’d ever experienced with a woman.
Zane drew in a deep breath and then said on a heavy sigh. “You better hope it wasn’t Ashira. Hell, man, if you didn’t use a condom she would love to claim you’re her new baby’s daddy.”
Derringer rubbed the ache that had suddenly crept into his temples at the thought. “It wasn’t Ashira, trust me. This woman left one hell of an impression. I’ve never experienced lovemaking like it before. It was off the charts. Besides, Ashira called a few days after hearing about the accident. She left town to go visit her sick grandmother in Dakota the day before the accident and won’t be back for a few weeks.”
“You do know there’s a way for you to find out the identity of your uninvited visitor, don’t you?” Zane asked.
Derringer glanced over at him. “How?”
“Did you forget about the video cameras we had installed on your property to protect the horses, the week before your fall? Anyone pulling into your yard would be captured on film if they got as far as your front porch.”
Derringer blinked when he remembered the video camera and wondered why he hadn’t recalled it sooner. He got up from Zane’s table and swiftly strode to the door. “I need to get home and check out that tape,” he said without looking back.