The Tycoon's Marriage Bid Page 13

  His jaw flexed. His lashes lifted and that coffee-and-chocolate gaze captured hers.

  Her mouth went dry. ‘And I shouldn’t do this,’ he said, his voice oddly husky. His arm moved, and his hand covered her belly. It rested there for a moment, then slid up and gently brushed her breast.

  She shuddered, his name ripping out of her in a gasp.

  ‘You want me to stop, Nik?’ His thumb drifted, smoothing over the center, which rose mortifyingly eager into an agonizingly pleased peak. ‘Say so, and I’ll stop, I promise you. But I won’t unless I know you want me to.’

  She drew in a shaking breath, which served only to push her breast against his hand even more. ‘I thought you didn’t want’ her eyes closed when he rubbed dragged lingered, over her nipple again ‘ me.’

  She finished on a barely audible breath.

  ‘You’re not that naive,’ he muttered. ‘I’ve wanted you for days. Since before I kissed you.’

  Her eyes snapped open. Her lips parted. He moved closer and his shoulders seemed to eclipse her.

  ‘You said you regretted that.’

  He bared his teeth for a moment and his touch became a little more fierce, before deliberately gentling. ‘I lied,’ he murmured. His palm edged upward, and she could no more prevent herself from thrusting her greedy breast against it than she could stop breathing. But his hand continued after the most tantalizing of pauses, flattened against her breastbone and moved slowly, inexorably onward until his thumb pressed against the pulse beating frantically beneath her jaw.

  For some reason, the act seemed more intimate than him cupping her breast, and she trembled.

  He directed her jaw until she was looking straight in his face.

  ‘I’ve been blind,’ he said evenly. ‘You were under my nose all that while. A young woman with shadows in her lake-blue eyes, who put everything she had into being a better assistant than I’ve ever had in my life.’

  ‘I don’t know what to say.’ Her voice cracked a little. She could feel her pulse throbbing against his thumb. It was so hard, so darn hard to be coherent, particularly when he took a step closer, turning the bar stool just enough that the V of her legs hugged him. ‘I thought you and Valerie’

  ‘No. Don’t say anything,’ he murmured, his mouth hovering a hairsbreadth above her forehead, her temple, her cheek. So close, but not touching. He pushed her chin up a little more. ‘I don’t want to hurt you. The baby. But if I don’t kiss you in the next thirty seconds, I’m going to go out of my mind.’

  She slipped her shaking hands up the fine weave of his sweater. Felt the heat radiating from him as she reached his neck. Let her fingers sift through the black-and-silver strands. ‘Twenty-nine,’ she whispered. ‘Twenty-eight. Twenty-seven. Twenty’

  ‘Six.’ He closed his mouth over hers. Nothing tentative. Nothing exploratory. This was a complete and total annihilation of her senses.

  Her head fell back. His hands threaded through her hair, tangling in it, binding her to him.

  She curled her arm around his neck even as he stepped in more closely. And she groaned, starbursts pricking inside her head when he tore his mouth away to haul in a hissing breath. His hands unwound from her hair and roved down her back, captured her hips, tilting her against him.

  A torrent of desire swept through her. She was shaking with it, and she rocked forward, fitting her mouth to his again just as deliberately as he’d fitted himself in the notch of her thighs.

  His low growl filled her. Thrilled her. She wanted to crawl inside his skin, his very being. He caught her head in his hand, breaking the kiss, pressing her face into the crook of his neck. He laughed a little.

  Swore a little.

  She breathed his name, exhilarated, boneless.

  ‘You’re lethal.’ His low voice rumbled over her nerve endings. ‘You have no idea.’

  She twined her leg around his hip, not caring if he thought she was shameless, just wanting, needing, to deepen the contact. ‘I’m six months pregnant,’ she said breathlessly. ‘And if you think you’re going to stop now, I will find rat poison for your salad dressing.’

  His hand tightened on her hip. ‘We can’t make love. Not in your condition.’

  She ought to have been shocked, but she wasn’t. And she wanted to cry with frustration over the fact that he was right. She felt as if she were a thirteen-hour clock wound fifteen hours too tight. And she desperately wished that there weren’t so many layers of denim separating them. She worked her hand up the back of his sweater and he jerked when she tucked her fingers against his spine a mere inch beneath the waist of his jeans.

  ‘Nikki’

  ‘Shh.’ She looked up at him, a sigh shuddering out of her when his hand mirrored her action. ‘Oh, Alex.’

  He slid his palm upward, following the length of her spine until he nudged the strap of her bra.

  She held him tighter, her head falling forward again to the curve of his neck. She was paralyzed with a deep, gnawing ache.

  His hand traced the band of her bra beneath her arm, then slid over the full-to-bursting cup, drifting down into the valley between.

  ‘You have the most beautiful breasts,’ he murmured. His second hand joined the first, delving beneath royal-blue knit to explore the snug hank of satin and lace.

  ‘You’ve never seen them,’ she protested faintly. Not only was her bra too snug, but her skin felt too tight.

  ‘Are you kidding? I saw them plenty through that shirt of yours the night we went to the hospital.

  The image is burned in my head.’ His words burned softly against her ear. Then his fingers left her breasts and he was urging the sweater up and off, over her head.

  She sat back, her hips still anchored against his, and could have wept for the way his face tightened as he looked at what his handiwork revealed. She couldn’t even curse the increased fullness of her breasts or the fact that the zipper of her jeans was a good two inches from being completely fastened because of her swollen belly. Not when his feral gaze told her just how much he appreciated the view.

  Her sweater seemed to fall, almost in slow motion, from his hand. ‘Beautiful,’ he repeated roughly.

  Then his head lowered and his mouth found the upper swell of one breast while his hand covered the other, his fingers dipping beneath the edge of the cup, sweeping within the tight space over her turgid nipple.

  She trembled wildly, clasping his head to her. ‘Alex’

  ‘So responsive,’ he murmured, dragging the lace down until that needy nipple sprang free. He caught it gently between thumb and forefinger. His lips searched out its mate.

  She was drowning. She arched against him, mindless. Never in her entire life had she been so aroused.

  His fingers left her breast long enough to reach behind her, and with a deft flick, her bra loosened, fell. He pulled the straps down to her elbows, pulled the cups away from their burden, trapping her even as he revealed, and he closed his mouth over her again, with no lace or satin to bar him.

  She cried out, her fingers clenching his hair, his head. His hard hips slowly rocked against her as he toyed with her nipples, tasted, teased. And just when she felt ready to scream, he dragged his mouth up the column of her throat. His lips nipped at her chin, then he covered her mouth again, his tongue sliding deep, and she convulsed in a shuddering, seemingly endless wave of pleasure.

  His arms were strong, wonderful bonds holding her steady as she dissolved, boneless, finally collapsing against the back of the wrought-iron stool.

  Stunned silence reigned for a long moment.

  ‘I thought it was a myth,’ she finally mumbled breathlessly.

  His lips were pressed gently against the pulse beating in her neck. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Hearing bells.’ She couldn’t manage to open her eyes. Every muscle in her body had vacated the building. Gone on a vacation. Probably island-hopping down in the Caribbean with the honeymooners.

  She felt the faint rumble of a chuckle work through
him. ‘That’s not bells, Nik. That’s the buzzer on the oven.’

  She peeled open one eye to find him watching her, a thoroughly indulgent expression on his face.

  ‘Oh,’ she said, without making any attempt whatsoever to attend to the matter. ‘So it is.’ Then she pulled his head to hers and kissed him slowly. ‘Truth is, though, that buzzing sound isn’t the chiming I heard.’

  His smile was slow, lazy and utterly sexy. His hand covered her breast and there they stayed, locked together, for a long while.

  Until the smell of chocolate on the verge of burning finally spurred them into motion.

  She unwound her legs from him and slid unsteadily off the bar stool. Her bra fell off completely and she caught it, leaving it on the seat. Using a dish towel as an oven mitt, she pulled the brownies from the oven and set them aside to cool.

  When she turned, Alex was holding her sweater. His gaze was focused on her breasts, which tightened all over again.

  He was fully clothed, but his arousal was just as apparent, and her gaze did some lingering of its own.

  ‘Don’t look at me like that.’ He stepped forward. Pulled the sweater over her head. ‘Put your arms in.’

  She did so, and his knuckles grazed her flesh as he tugged the sweater over her breasts and down to her hips, where the loose hem covered the fact that she was too big to fasten her jeans.

  ‘Now go lie down,’ he told her, slipping his palm along her cheek for a moment. ‘I’ll finish up in here.’

  A caretaker, she thought again as she forced her shaking legs to carry her to the bed.

  She knew that she could quit her job, run away, but there was no way she was ever going to get over loving Alex Reed.

  Not anymore.

  Chapter Twelve

  For a moment, Nikki was blinded by the brilliant glare of sunlight off the sea of smooth, white snow.

  But when she blinked, she saw it.

  The sleigh.

  It was as beautiful as she remembered.

  The ornate blue sleigh pulled by two beautifully matched horses stood behind the cabin, looking straight out of a fairy tale. She knew the red padded seat that was built for two was as velvety as the bedspread in the cabin. And the blanket folded over the seat had gleaming red tassels that she remembered, too.

  Her only attempt at having her sleigh ride may have been brief, but those details, at least, were perfectly memorable.

  ‘Alex,’ Nikki breathed. ‘I can’t believe it. What have you done?’ They’d barely finished their egg salad sandwich lunch when he’d told her to close her eyes, and had pulled her outside the cabin.

  Now, he stood close behind her, his hands on her waist. And she really, really liked the feel of him there. The warmth radiating from him, the strength of his arms around her.

  As if he’d be there to catch her if she fell.

  Inside her, the baby moved in a slow roll, seeming to concur.

  ‘So, it’s a good surprise, then.’

  She looked up at him. ‘Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?’ She never would have expected such a gesture from Alex.

  But then, everything concerning him was unexpected these days, from his presence in Montana at all, to their close encounter four days earlier over brownie batter.

  Since then, they’d both kept their hands to themselves.

  They were existing in an odd bubble of companionship and, well, friendship, she supposed, even though she’d caught him looking at her at times in the same way she knew she looked at him. And peace of mind was not equating at all to peace.

  ‘I wasn’t sure how you’d react,’ he admitted, looking past her to the sleigh. ‘I’m not Cody.’

  No. He wasn’t. Cody had been easy. Sweet. Loving. Not a thought in his head or heart could have been hidden on his face. She’d been a girl who’d loved him. She was not a girl any longer. And Alex was not easy. He was difficult. And slyly sweet. Heart-wrenchingly sexy. Dangerously unreadable. Yet even though she knew it, she couldn’t make herself back away from it. From him.

  ‘I’m amazed,’ she finally said. More than amazed. She was incredibly touched. ‘When did you arrange it?’

  He helped her up onto the seat and spread the blanket over her knees. ‘When the sheriff stopped by here yesterday to see how things were going. He put me in touch with Ivan.’

  She looked around. There was no sight of the elderly gentleman who’d driven the sleigh on her first try. Not yet three weeks ago, though it felt like a lifetime. ‘Where is Ivan?’

  Alex had moved over to the Morgans and was checking the riggings, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. ‘He’ll pick up the sleigh later today.’

  She eyed him. ‘Alex?’

  Evidently satisfied, he patted one of the horses’ withers. ‘Yeah?’

  ‘If Ivan’s not here, who is going to drive this thing?’

  His teeth flashed and he swung easily up into the sleigh, bypassing the short, slanted driver’s seat to sit beside her on the padded one. The long reins were held easily in his gloved hand. ‘You’re hard on my ego, Nik. Always questioning my ability.’

  Disbelief escaped her in a snort. ‘I don’t doubt any of your abilities,’ she assured him.

  He slanted her a look that was ripe with amusement and something else. Something too heated to dwell on. ‘Any?’

  The fluttering inside her had nothing to do with the baby and everything to do with him. She moistened her lips. ‘Why did you do this, Alex?’

  The amusement faded, leaving only that depthless furnace. ‘You said you came on this trip for certain things. The sleigh ride was one of them.’

  He adjusted the reins a little, settling his boots on the rail beneath the driver’s seat, and clucked to the horses. They bobbed their heads, and the riggings jingled musically as the sleigh gave a slight jerk and began sliding forward, heading toward the line of trees in the distance. ‘I figured I could play Ivan for a few hours.’

  Alex was no more a congenial, somewhat subservient old man than he was Cody, who’d been so easygoing it had taken Nikki’s prodding to get him to finish his college work. ‘I used to think I knew you so well,’ she murmured. ‘But this’ she shook her head ‘ is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.’

  He looked at her. The horses were walking smoothly, the sleigh moving easily through the deep, pristine snow, away from the cabin.

  He brushed his knuckles down her cheek, and his leather glove felt warm. ‘Don’t let it get out,’ he said after a moment. ‘It would ruin my image.’ He put his hand back on the reins.

  She tucked her tongue between her teeth, battling back the utter yearning for him that was never far beneath the surface. ‘You don’t give a flip what your image is,’ she finally managed to say. ‘You live life just the way you want to.’

  ‘And you don’t?’

  She shook her head. ‘You know I don’t.’

  ‘I know you make choices and stick to them with the tenacity of a mama bear. Don’t look so surprised at that, Nik. I have yet to see somebody order you around. Not when it comes down to the wire.’

  ‘You’ve done plenty of ordering me around these past few weeks.’

  ‘Have I?’

  Had he? Or had he just stated opinions and arguments, and she’d generally seen the validity of them?

  Feeling more confused than ever, she stared out over the landscape.

  The horses pranced beautifully through the snow, moving just fast enough to create a slight breeze, and causing her to be grateful for the thick throw over her legs, clad in his borrowed jeans.

  He’d offered several pairs to her the day after he’d seen up close and personal just how snug her own jeans had become. His were miles too long, but large enough that she could at least fasten them at the waist. Along with the throw, she wore her ivory wool coat, and beneath that, a flannel shirt layered over a thin turtleneck.

  She gave in to her desire to look at Alex, beside her. She had layers to protect her from the brisk Ja
nuary air. He, however, wore jeans, a button-down white shirt and his coat and gloves. And the coat wasn’t even fastened.

  ‘Aren’t you cold?’

  He shook his head. ‘You?’

  ‘I’m fine.’ She was chilly, but she knew if she said a single word to that effect, he’d turn the sleigh around and head right back to the cabin. And she didn’t want the outing to end. Not yet.

  He did jiggle the reins again. And as finely tuned as any two beings could be, the horses shifted direction slightly, pulling the sleigh in a wide, sweeping arc that brought them parallel to the glittering stream.

  ‘Amazing the water isn’t frozen over.’ Her breath was visible in the crisp air.

  ‘Looks like it has a pretty swift current for such a narrow stream.’

  She fell silent again. In fact, the whole world seemed silent, as if taking a breather from all the details of life itself. And because it was so entrancing, that glimpse of peace where she was just a woman and he the man who was more deeply in her heart than ever, she made herself break the silence.

  ‘How are things coming with George Macfield?’

  Alex’s hands tightened for a moment on the reins at Nikki’s soft question. He deliberately loosened his grip. No point in punishing the horses for the tension that particular topic inspired. ‘They’re not.’

  Nikki’s gloved hand touched his arm briefly, then drew away.

  Just as well. His control where she was concerned was worn down to a nub. He was still kicking himself for taking advantage of her the way he had when she’d been baking those brownies. Had spent sleepless hours every night expecting her to have some sort of additional crisis with her pregnancy because he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her. Because he’d been selfish enough to drive her into climaxing for him for his own sheer enjoyment.

  He’d finally resorted to calling the hospital and asking the doctor what consequences he may have caused.

  Carmichael had only laughed a little and assured Alex that no harm had probably been done, though he’d warned against taking things further for a while yet.