Unlikely Lover Read online

  He sighed heavily, searching her eyes. “I’ve never had to justify myself to anyone,” he told her. “I’ve never wanted to.” He studied the pommel as if he hadn’t seen one before, examining it as he spoke. “I don’t want you to go, Mari.”

  Her heart ran away. “Why not?”

  He shrugged and smiled faintly. “Maybe I’ve gotten used to you.” He looked up. “Besides, your aunt will never get over it if you leave right now. All her plans for us will be ruined.”

  “That’s a foregone conclusion as far as I’m concerned,” she said, her voice curt. She clenched her hands in her pockets. “I wouldn’t have you on a stick, roasted.”

  He had to work to keep from grinning. “Wouldn’t you?”

  “I’m going home,” she repeated.

  He tilted his hat back again. “You don’t have a job.”

  “I do so. I work at a garage!”

  “Not anymore.” He did grin this time. “I called them last week and told them that you had to quit to take care of your sick aunt and her ‘dying’ employer.”

  “You what!”

  “It seemed like the thing to do at the time,” he said conversationally. “They said they were real sorry, and it sure was lucky they’d just had a girl apply for a job that morning. I’ll bet they hired her that very day.”

  She could hardly breathe through her fury. She felt as if her lungs were on fire. “You…you…!” She searched for some names she’d heard at the garage and began slinging them at him.

  “Now, shame on you,” he scolded, bending unexpectedly to drag her up to sit in the saddle in front of him. “Sit still!” he said roughly, controlling the excited horse with one hand on the reins while the other was on Mari.

  “I hate you,” she snapped.

  He got the gelding under control and wheeled it, careful not to jerk the reins and unseat them both. The high-strung animal took gentle handling. “Care to prove that?” he asked.

  She didn’t ask what he meant. There was no time. She was too busy trying to hold on to the pommel. She hadn’t realized how far off the ground that saddle was until she was sitting in it. Behind her, she felt the warm strength of his powerful body, and if she hadn’t been so nervous, she might have felt the tense set of it in the saddle.

  He rode into a small grove of oak and mesquite trees and dismounted. Before she knew it, she was out of the saddle and flat on her back in the lush spring grass with Ward’s hard face above her.

  “Now,” he said gently, “suppose you show me how much you hate me?”

  His dark head bent, and she reached up, unthinking, to catch his thick hair and push him away. But it only gave him an unexpected opening, and she caught her breath as his full weight came down over her body, crushing her into the leaves and grass.

  “Better give in, honey, or you could sink down all the way to China,” he commented wickedly. His hands were resting beside her head, and somehow he’d caught hers in them. He had her effectively pinned, without any effort at all, and was just short of gloating about it. He wasn’t trying to spare her his formidable weight, either, and she could just barely breathe.

  She panted, struggling, until she felt what her struggles were accomplishing and reluctantly subsided. She contented herself with glaring up at him from a face the color of pickled beets.

  “Coward,” he chided.

  She was very still, barely breathing. His hands were squeezing hers, but with a caressing pressure not a brutal one. The look in his eyes was slowly changing from faint amusement to dark passion. If she hadn’t recognized the look, his body would have told her as he began to move subtly over hers, sensually, with a practiced expertness that even her innocence recognized.

  “Yes, that makes you tremble, doesn’t it?” he breathed, watching her as his hips caressed hers.

  “Of course…it does,” she bit off. “I’ve never…felt this way with anyone else.”

  “Neither have I,” he whispered, bending to brush his hard mouth over her soft one. “I told you that when I got home, and I meant it. Never like this, not with anyone…” His eyes closed, his heavy brows drawing together as he slowly fitted his mouth to hers.

  She wanted to protest, but she couldn’t move, let alone speak, and his mouth was making the most exquisite sensations in places far removed from her lips. With a shaky little sigh she opened her mouth a little to taste his and felt him stiffen. She felt that same tautness in her legs, her arms, even in her stomach, sensations that she’d never experienced.

  His hard fingers flexed, linking with hers caressingly, teasing as he explored her mouth first with his lips and then with the slightest probing of his tongue.

  She hadn’t been kissed that way before, and her eyes opened, puzzled.

  He lifted his head a little, searching her face with green eyes that were dark and mysterious and as full of answers as her blue ones were full of questions.

  “You can trust me this once,” he whispered, sensing her apprehension in the smooth as silk young body that wouldn’t give an inch to the dominance of his. “Even if I went half mad with wanting, I wouldn’t risk trying to make love to you within sight of the barn.”

  He couldn’t have been less convincing, but she did trust him. She searched his eyes, feeling the warm weight of him, smelling the leathery scent that clung to him, and she began to relax despite the unknown intimacy of the embrace.

  “You’ve never felt a man this way, have you?” he asked quietly. “It’s all right. You’re old enough to leave chaste kisses and daydreams behind. This is the reality, little Mari,” he whispered, shifting his hips as he looked down into her wide, awed eyes. “This is what it’s really like when a man and a woman come together in passion. It isn’t neat and quiet and uncomplicated. It’s hot and wild and complex.”

  “Is it part of the rules to warn the victim?” she asked in a husky whisper.

  “It is when the victim is as innocent as you,” he returned. “I don’t want a virgin sacrifice, you see,” he added, bending again to her mouth. “I want a full-blooded woman. A woman to match me.”

  At that moment she almost felt that she could. Her body was throbbing, blazing with fire and fever, and instead of shrinking from the proof of his desire for her, she lifted her body up to his, gave him her mouth and her soft sighs.

  Ward felt the hunger in her slender body, and it fostered an oddly protective impulse in him. He, who was used to taking what he wanted without regret or shame, hesitated.

  His mouth gentled, slowed and became patiently caressing. He found that she followed where he led, quickly learning the tender lessons that he gave her without words. He let go of her hands and felt them go instinctively to his shirt, pressing over the hard, warm muscles, searching. His heart pounded furiously against breasts whose softness he could feel under him. He wanted to strip off his shirt and give himself to her young hands, he wanted to strip off her own shirt and put his mouth on those tender breasts and look at them and watch her blush. It was then that he realized just how urgent the situation was becoming.

  His body was taking over. He could feel himself grinding down against her, forcing her hips into intimate contact with his, he could feel his own taut movements. His mouth felt hot. Hers felt like velvet, feverish and swollen from the hungry probing of his own.

  He lifted his head, surprised to find himself breathing in gasps, his arms trembling slightly as they held him poised over her. Her eyes were misty, half closed, her lips parted and moist, her body submissive. His.

  She drew in a slow, lazy breath, looking up at him musingly, so hungry for him that she hadn’t the strength to refuse him anything he wanted. From the neck down she was throbbing with sweet pulses, experiencing a pleasure that she’d never known before.

  “No,” he whispered roughly. “No. Not like this.”

  He rolled away from her, shuddering a little before he sat up and breathed roughly. He brushed back his hair with fingers that were almost steady but held a fine tremor.


  Mari was just realizing what had happened, and she stared at him with slowly dawning comprehension. So that was what happened. That was why women didn’t fight or protest. It wasn’t out of fear of being overpowered. It was because of the sweet, tender pleasure that came from being held intimately, kissed and kissed until her mind got lost in her body’s pleasure. He could have had her. But he stopped.

  “Surprised?” He turned his head, staring down at her with dark green eyes that still held blatant traces of passion. “I told you I wouldn’t take advantage, didn’t I?”

  “Yes. But I forgot.”

  “Fortunately for you I didn’t.” He got to his feet and stretched lazily, feeling as if he’d been beaten, but he wasn’t letting her see that. He grinned down at her. “Men get good at pulling back. It comes from years of practice dating virgins,” he added in a wicked whisper as he extended a hand to her.

  She sat up, flushed, ignoring his outstretched hand as she scrambled to her feet. “I can’t imagine that many of them were still virgins afterward,” she muttered with a shy glance.

  “Oh, some of them had great powers of resistance,” he admitted. “Like you.”

  “Sure,” she said shakily, pushing back her damp hair. “Some great resistance. If you hadn’t stopped…”

  “But I did,” he interrupted. He picked up his hat from where he’d tossed it and studied the crown before he put it back on his head. “And for the time being you can forget going back to Georgia,” he added with a level gaze. “Lillian needs you. Maybe I need you, too. You’ve given me a new perspective on things.”

  “I’ve butted in and made a spectacle of myself, you mean,” she said, her eyes quietly curious on his hard, dark face.

  “If I’d meant that, I’d have said it,” he returned. “You’re a breath of fresh air in my life, Mari. I was getting set in my wicked ways until you came along. Maybe you were right about my attitude toward money. So why don’t you stay and reform me?”

  “I can’t imagine anyone brave enough to try,” she said. She lifted her face. “And besides all that, how dare you cost me my job!”

  “You can’t work in a garage full of men anymore,” he said blandly. “Remember your horrible nightmares about the assault?” he added. “Men make you nervous. Lillian said so.”

  “Those men wouldn’t make anyone nervous. All they did was work on cars and go home to their wives,” she informed him. “Not one of them was single.”

  “How sad for you. What wonderful luck that Lillian found me dying and sent for you.” He grinned. “It isn’t every girl who gets handed a single, handsome, rich bachelor on a platter.”

  “I am not a gold digger,” she shot at him.

  “Oh, hell, I know that,” he said after a minute, studying her through narrowed eyes. “But I had to have some kind of defense, didn’t I? You’re a potent little package, honey. A fish on the hook does fight to the bitter end.”

  His words didn’t make much sense to her, but Mari was a little dazed by everything that had happened. She just stared at him, puzzled.

  “Never mind,” he said, taking her hand. “Let’s go back. I’ve got a few odds and ends to take care of before lunch. Do you like to ride?”

  “I think so,” she admitted.

  “You can have your own horse next time,” he promised. “But for now I think we’ll walk back. I’m just about out of self-control, if you want the truth. I can’t handle you at a close proximity right now.”

  That was embarrassing and flattering, and she hid a smile. But he saw it and gathered her close to his side, leading the horse by the reins with one hand and holding her with the other. The conversation on the way back was general, but the feel of Ward’s strong arm had Mari enthralled every step of the way.

  He went off to make some business calls. Lillian took one look at Mari’s face and began humming love songs. Mari, meanwhile, went up to her room to freshen up and took time to borrow one of the outside lines to call Atlanta. Her boss at the garage was delighted to hear from her and immediately burst into praise of her unselfishness to help that “poor dying man in Texas.” How fortunate, he added brightly, that a young woman about Mari’s age had just applied for a job the morning poor Mr. Jessup had called him. Everything had worked out just fine, hadn’t it, and how did she like Texas?

  She mumbled something about the weather being great for that time of year, thanked him and hung up. Poor Mr. Jessup, indeed!

  Ward had to go out on business later in the day, and he wasn’t back by supper time. Lillian and Mari ate alone, and after Mari had finished helping in the kitchen, she kissed her aunt good night and went upstairs. She was torn between disappointment and relief that Ward hadn’t been home since that feverish interlude. It had been so sweet that she’d wanted it again and that could be dangerous. Each time it got harder to stop. Today she hadn’t been able to do anything except follow where he led, and it was like some heady alcoholic beverage—she just couldn’t get enough of him. She didn’t really know what to do anymore. Her life seemed to be tangled up in complications.

  She laid out a soft pink gown on the bed—a warm but revealing one with a low neckline—and fingered it lovingly. It had been an impulse purchase, something to cheer her up on a depressing Saturday when she had been alone. It was made of flannelette, but it was lacy and expensive, and she loved the way it felt and clung to the slender lines of her body.

  She ran a bath in the big Jacuzzi and turned on the jets after filling the tub with fragrant soap that was provided, along with anything else a feminine guest might need, in the pretty blue-tiled bathroom. To Mari, who lived in a small efficiency apartment in Atlanta, it was really plush. She frowned as she stripped off her clothing and climbed into the smooth tub with its relaxing jets of water surging around her. The apartment rent was due in a week or so, and she hadn’t paid it yet. She’d have to send a check. She also wished that she’d brought more clothes with her. She hadn’t counted on being here for life, but it looked as if Ward wasn’t in any hurry to let her go.

  Too, there was Lillian, who was behaving herself only as long as her niece was around to make her. If Mari left, what would happen to the older woman? With Ward away on business so often, it was dangerous for Lillian to be left alone now. Perhaps Ward had considered that, and it was why he wanted Mari to stay. The real reason, anyway. He didn’t seem to be dying of love for her, although his desire was apparent. He wanted her.

  With all her turbulent thoughts and the humming sound of the Jacuzzi, she didn’t hear the door to her room open or hear it close again. She didn’t hear the soft footfalls on the carpet, or the soft sound that came from a particularly male voice as Ward saw her sitting up in the tub with her pretty pink breasts bare and glistening with soap and water.

  She happened to glance up then and saw him. She couldn’t move. His green eyes were steady and loving on the soft curves of her body, and with horror she felt the tips of her breasts harden under his intent scrutiny.

  He shook his head when she started to lift her hands to them. “No,” he said gently, moving toward her. “No, don’t cover them, Mari.”

  She could hardly get her breath. Although she’d never let anyone see her like this in all her life, she couldn’t stop him. Mari couldn’t seem to move at all. He towered over her, still and somber, and as she watched, he began to roll up the sleeves of the white shirt that was open halfway down his chest. He’d long ago shed his jacket and tie, although he was still wearing dress boots and suit trousers. He looked expensive and very masculine and disturbing, and as he bent beside the tub, she caught the scent of luxurious cologne.

  “You mustn’t!” she began frantically.

  But he picked up the big fluffy sponge she’d soaped and shook his head, smiling faintly. “Think of it as a service for a special, tired guest,” he whispered amusedly, although his eyes were frankly possessive. “Lie back and enjoy it.”

  She started to protest again, but he didn’t pay the least attention. One lean
hand moved behind her neck to support her in the bubbling water while the other slowly, painstakingly, drew the sponge over every soft line and curve of her body.

  She hadn’t realized how many nerve endings she had, but he found every single one. In a silence that throbbed with new sensation, he bathed her, pausing now and again to put the sponge down and touch her, experience the softness of her skin with the added silkiness of soap and water making it vibrantly alive.

  Her eyes were half closed, languorous, as his fingers brushed lightly over her small, high breasts and found every curve and hardness, every sensual contrast, every texture, as if she fascinated him.

  She trembled a little when he turned off the Jacuzzi and let the water out of the tub, especially when he began to sponge away the last traces of soap, and her body was completely revealed to him.

  He lifted his dark, quiet eyes to hers and searched them, finding apprehension, fear, awe and delight in their blue depths. “I’ve never bathed a woman before,” he said softly. “Or bathed with one. In some ways I suppose I’m pretty old-fashioned.”

  She was breathing unsteadily. “I’ve never let anyone look at me before,” she said in a hesitant tone.

  “Yes. I know.” He helped her out of the tub and removed a warmed towel from the rail. It was fluffy and pink, and warm against her skin as he slowly dried her from head to toe. This time she could feel his hands in a new way, and she clutched at his broad shoulders when he reached her hips and began to touch her flat stomach. She felt a rush of sensation that was new and shocking.

  “Ward?” she whispered.

  He knelt in front of her, discarding the towel and all pretense as he held her hips and pressed his mouth warmly against her stomach.

  She cried out. It was a high-pitched, helpless cry, and it made his blood surge like a flood through his veins. His fingers flexed and his mouth drew over her stomach with agonizing slowness, moving up with relentless hunger to her soft, smooth breasts.

  She held him there, held his hard, moist mouth over the tip of one, felt him take her inside, warming her. He touched her then in a way she’d never expected, and her breath drew in harshly and she shivered.