Fugitive Fiancée (14 page)

“Not for us. We've wasted so much time already.” He reached out one hand, tracing her lips with the pad of his thumb. “My grandfather died a young man in the war. Anna Bruner died a young woman. And God only knows what happened to my parents.”

She closed her eyes, the movement of his thumb making her lips tingle. Then it left her mouth, caressing her jaw and trailing over the sensitive skin of her neck.

“We can't be afraid to live anymore, Mimi,” he said, moving closer so that his body was pressed firmly against her. “Or to love.”

She could feel his arousal and longed to touch him. Stroke him. Assuage this need that was consuming
them both.
She wanted him so much.
But did she dare let him love her? Ripples of apprehension prickled goose bumps over her skin.

“Katherine gave up everything for love,” she whispered, terrified of losing her heart. “And she never came back.”

“Do you think she was sorry?” His hands moved to her shoulders, his thumbs circling just above her breasts. Her nipples grew taut, and she yearned to rise on her toes to give him better access.

“No,” she said at last, her defenses crumbling under his erotic touch. Maybe the time had come for Garrett to see all her scars, inside and out. She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him down toward her mouth. “No.”

He moaned under the hot intensity of her kiss, his tongue meeting hers, circling and thrusting. Mimi reveled in the silky smoothness of his mouth as she buried her fingers in his hair.

Garrett's hand slid from her shoulders to the front of her blouse, teasing her breasts as he ever so slowly popped the buttons open one by one. He slid the blouse over her shoulders, then turned his attention to her bra. It slipped off into the straw, leaving her half-naked before him.

“Oh, Mimi,” he said in wonder, reaching out for her. The touch of his rough fingertips against her bare skin made her tremble. Then he lowered his head to kiss the erect pink tip of her left breast.

Before she could speak or move, he knelt in front of her. His tongue lightly circled her nipple while his long fingers stroked her other breast. He sucked gently, his pleasure evident in the hungry growl she
heard deep in his throat. She tipped back her head, wondering how much more pleasure she could take. Then he repeated his ministrations on her other breast, tasting and suckling. Arousing her almost beyond endurance while she was still half-dressed.

At last, he pulled her down into the straw until she was kneeling with him. The setting sun cast long shadows over the hayloft and illuminated the floating dust motes so they looked like golden bubbles.

He kissed her lips as he laid her on a soft bed of straw, then sat back and let his gaze wander over her until he reached her eyes. “You are so beautiful.”

“Take your shirt off,” she whispered, her mouth dry and her body pulsing with need.

He quickly unbuttoned his shirt, his gaze never leaving her face. The last few buttons popped off as he tugged his shirt out of his jeans and ripped it off his shoulders.

“Touch me,” he pleaded, reclining on a soft bed of straw next to her.

Mimi reached out and slid her hand over the light mat of burnished hair on his chest. His skin was so incredibly warm. She ran her hand over the washboard ridges of his stomach.

He sucked in his breath as her fingers slid past his navel to his belt buckle. Mimi looked up to see his eyes closed and his jaw taut. Heady with the power she had over the strongest man she'd ever met, she leaned down to kiss the washboard ripples across his stomach while her fingers worked at undoing the buckle.

“Mimi,” he breathed, his voice strained. “You don't know what you're doing to me.”

“More,” she whispered. “I'm doing more.”

He moaned as her tongue slipped beneath the open button fly of his jeans. Then she sat up, sliding her fingers up and down the straining bulge in his blue jeans.

“No more,” he gasped as she unzipped his jeans and pulled them down over his hips.

“More,” she promised, straddling him to relieve the pounding need in her body.

They both moaned as his hardness met the hot core of her softness. She rubbed against him, kindling the fire between them even more. Then Garrett rolled her over, quickly shedding his jeans and boxer shorts.

Her jeans and panties followed so quickly that she barely had time to prepare herself. Naked and vulnerable, she lay before him, her body and her heart trembling with need. She held her breath as his gaze skimmed over her. Did he notice the bikini-line scar on her abdomen? Did he care?

But her apprehensions slipped away as he took her in his arms again. His warm, dewy skin kissed hers as he lay full-length upon her, their bodies seeking each other. His lips found her mouth at the same time he opened her with his fingers.

Desire clouded her mind, but she was still coherent enough to realize that they were almost to the point of no return. “Garrett,” she whispered, keeping her long-ago vow never to make the same mistake twice. “I'm not on anything…birth control, I mean.”

“That's all right,” he whispered, reaching for his jeans and digging into the back pocket. “I'm prepared. I've been prepared ever since the night of the party. Call it wishful thinking.”

He turned away from her for a moment, then he was holding her again. Kissing her. She wrapped her arms around him and held on tight, determined never to let him go.

“You're mine, Mimi,” he whispered, hovering above her. “All mine.”

The next moment he was inside her, and the sensation was so intensely sweet that hot tears sprang to her eyes.

Garrett kissed them away, then closed his eyes with a deep groan as he moved within her. They made love to the accompaniment of cooing barn swallows and the soft swish of a horse's tail. Mimi matched Garrett's rhythm, almost as if they heard the same wonderful music. The beat rose and fell, moving faster and faster as something molten inside of her simmered and threatened to boil over.

Garrett pressed his face against her neck, moaning deeply as his long, powerful body flexed against her. She grasped his shoulders in wonderment, then let him carry her into ecstasy. They both joined in the song, crying out in perfect harmony.

At last Mimi opened her eyes, uncertain if minutes or days had passed. Garrett lay beside her, his eyes closed and his handsome face so relaxed and content it made her heart fill with love for him.

She propped herself up on one elbow to look at him. Night had fallen, and the darkness surrounding them made her feel they were the only two people in the world.

At last Garrett opened his eyes and gave her a lazy smile. “We definitely wasted too much time.”

She rippled the short russet hair on his upper thigh
with her fingertips. “Then we'd better start making up for it, cowboy.”

“Good idea,” he said, reaching for her once again.

 

P
AUL SAT
at the antique rosewood desk in Mimi's bedroom, methodically rifling through her drawers. Now that he'd finally located his fugitive fiancée, he'd need something to convince her to become his bride. Some kind of leverage that would insure Paul Renquist became a very wealthy man.

If he didn't hit pay dirt soon, he'd conduct a thorough search of old man Casville's study. Surely a man that rich couldn't be squeaky clean. Mimi would do anything to protect her father. Hell, she'd probably agree to marry Paul just to protect one of those snotty servants. She seemed to have a soft spot in her heart for just about everyone.

Except him.

He yanked open the last drawer and sifted through the neat stack of files. Mimi's career as an archivist had obviously made it impossible for her to throw anything away. It seemed as if he'd been up here for hours, sorting through old school papers, newspaper clippings, boring letters and other assorted Casville family junk.

He cut his finger on the open seal of an envelope as he dug into the drawer. Swearing, he yanked the drawer out and dumped the contents on the floor.

“Nothing,” he muttered, smearing his blood against the scattered papers as he raked through them. He didn't know what he was looking for, but it sure as hell wasn't this worthless crap.

He picked up the drawer, haphazardly tossing the
assorted papers and files back inside. He swore again as his bloody finger scraped against the rough wood on the underside of the drawer.

Then it hit something smooth and slick.
Cellophane packaging tape.
He slowly turned the drawer over and stared at the lavender envelope taped securely to the bottom of the drawer.

“What do we have here?” He neatly ripped the envelope from its hiding place, then opened the flap. Inside he found a letter dated August 26, 1992. Nine years ago, give or take a few months.

Paul read the letter again, thoroughly perplexed. Then he looked inside the envelope once again, and his heart began pounding in his chest. He drew out a small photo of a little boy wearing a sailor suit. Big blue eyes smiled at him. Very familiar blue eyes.

Pay dirt.

M
IMI WOKE UP
the next morning in Garrett's bed. Only this time she wasn't alone.

“Mornin', sleepyhead,” Garrett murmured as he leaned over and pulled a piece of straw out of her hair. “I thought you'd never wake up.”

She ran one finger over the stubble of whiskers on his jaw. “I suppose you want me to handle all the chores this morning so you can sleep?”

“Sounds tempting, but I'm the one who has to get up. Another customer called yesterday afternoon while you were out. He's coming here this morning to look at the bulls.”

Mimi sighed, pulling the bedclothes up to her bare shoulders and wishing they could stay in bed together all day. “When?”

“Soon.” Garrett kissed the tip of her nose. “Why don't you stay here and keep the bed warm? I promise I'll be back as fast as I can.”

She wound her arms around his neck to keep him close to her. “Why don't you call and tell this customer to take a rain check instead? Or at least talk him into waiting until later this afternoon. Then we can both stay here and…warm up the bed.”

“Don't tempt me,” he murmured, then kissed her. A long, slow, deep kiss that made her forget about
cattle buyers and chores and everything else a good ranch hand should have on her mind.

Garrett moaned low in his throat as her hands disappeared beneath the blankets. “On second thought…”

The loud blast of a car horn made them both groan.

“Damn,” he muttered, stealing one last kiss before he climbed out of bed. “There's nothing I hate worse than an early bird.”

She laughed, feeling almost giddy. “This from the man who got me out of bed before six o'clock every morning for the last three weeks.”

“Well, now that I've finally got you
in
my bed,” he said, reaching for his work shirt, “I'd like to keep you there for a while.”

She leaned back against the pillow and watched him dress. It had been too dark to see him fully last night in the barn, but this morning sunlight streamed through the windows, allowing her to see every delectable inch of his finely honed body.

“Enjoying the view?” he asked as he buttoned his faded green work shirt.

“Definitely.” She watched him step into blue boxer shorts, then pull on denim jeans. His big hands tucked the shirttails into his jeans, then zipped up the fly and buttoned the waistband.

She stretched out on his side of the mattress, the white cotton sheet still warm from his body. “Although I think I prefer watching you take your clothes off.”

“I'll be happy to oblige—”

The car horn sounded again, drawing a muttered
oath from Garrett as he buckled his leather belt. “I take it this guy's in a hurry.”

“Look at it this way,” Mimi said, “the sooner you get out there, the sooner you can get rid of him.”

“I like the way you think.” He leaned down to kiss her, then nipped her earlobe. “But then, I like a lot of things about you. Your ears. Your nose. Your mouth.” He kissed her again. “Definitely your mouth.”

“Go,” she ordered, pushing him away before they both became too distracted by the sensual electricity that pulsed between them.

He turned at the bedroom door to wink at her. “Stay warm for me.” Then he was gone.

Mimi sighed, rolling to her side and pulling his pillow into her arms. It still held his scent. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She lay there for a few minutes, but sleep eluded her. Despite the long night of lovemaking, Mimi felt wide-awake and thoroughly refreshed.

Her stomach growled, and she looked at the clock, surprised to find it was already past ten o'clock in the morning. Throwing off the covers, she rolled out of bed, then stood naked in front of the dresser mirror.

She hardly recognized the woman staring back at her. Sparkling blue eyes and tanned, rosy cheeks. Pink lips that were just a little puffier than normal. But it was the changes on the inside that really mattered. Pure joy radiated through her.

It had finally happened.

“I'm in love,” she crooned to the mirror. “I'm in love with Garrett Lord.”

Her gaze fell to the faint pink scar at the base of
her abdomen. Garrett hadn't seen it last night, though she'd been ready to tell him the whole story. Part of her was thankful it hadn't come out.

And part of her wanted to tell him every little detail about her life. Every secret of her past. Every wish for her future.

Their future.

“You're getting ahead of yourself,” Mimi admonished the love-struck girl in the mirror. She picked up a comb and ran it through her tangled hair. “He doesn't even know your real last name yet. And one night together does not a lifetime commitment make.”

Then she sighed. “But what a night.”

Another blast of the obnoxious car horn made her smile at her reflection. Her cowboy was obviously taking his sweet time. Too bad the customer didn't realize that Garrett Lord was his own man, answering to no one.

She moved toward the window and parted the curtain for a peek. The angle didn't allow her to see anything but the tail end of a silver sports car. Hubert stood by a rear tire with his leg lifted.

Then a man came into her view.

A man who could ruin everything.

 

G
ARRETT
ground his teeth together as he stood on the front porch, a cup of hot coffee in his hands. The man in the flashy black cowboy suit stood with the door to his silver Jaguar open, leaning heavily on the horn.

The noise sent Hubert into a frenzy of barking. Garrett walked over to lean against the porch rail and sipped at the coffee.

At last the man caught sight of him and let up on the horn. “I'm looking for Garrett Lord.”

“You found him,” Garrett said, setting down his coffee cup.

The man's gaze flicked over him, and it was obvious he wasn't impressed by the faded work clothes and scuffed cowboy boots. “I'm Paul Renquist.”

Living so close to Austin, Garrett was used to urban cowboys coming here and throwing their money around. This one wore cowboy clothes fresh from a designer store. Right down to his shiny new alligator-skin boots.

“I'm planning to buy a big spread,” Renquist said, walking up to the porch. “And naturally, I'm only interested in premium stock.”

“That's the only kind I sell.”

He tipped his Stetson. “Good. Then maybe we can do business.”

“What are you looking for in a bull?” Garrett kept meticulous records and could answer any questions ranging from birth weight to rate-of-gain to feed efficiency on all his breeding stock. He could also trace the genetic lines of his longhorn cattle back at least five generations. He smiled, realizing he and Mimi shared a common interest in family trees.

“Do you have any black ones?”

“Black ones?” A muscle flickered along Garrett's jaw. “Do you mean Angus?”

Renquist shrugged. “If that's what they're called.”

Garrett clenched his jaw, wondering why he even bothered to get out of bed this morning. Especially when he had a beautiful woman in it. “I raise registered Texas longhorns.”

The man looked clueless.

“Brown and white ones.” Garrett said, bringing the conversation down to Renquist's level. Way down. “I don't have any black ones. Maybe you should try the Triple C.”

To his disappointment, Renquist shook his head. “No, brown and white ones will be fine.”

Garrett stepped off the porch. “Why don't I just bring my best bull into the corral. I think it will save us both time.”

“Sounds good.” Renquist turned to the barn, then glanced at his Jaguar. “Can you get your dog away from my car?”

Garrett bit back a smile. Hubert didn't always have the best aim. The bottom edge of the driver's door was dripping wet. “Come here, boy.”

Hubert bounded over to him. Garrett reached down to rub his furry head. “Good dog,” he said under his breath.

“Wait here,” he told Renquist when they'd reached the corral. “I'll bring the bull out.” He climbed over the fence, idly wondering why he bothered to sell some of his cattle for breeding stock. Working with the public didn't appeal to him. Hell, nothing appealed to him lately except spending time with a certain leggy blonde.

He looked up and saw her, standing on the front porch of the house. His body tightened at the sight of her. She wore blue jeans, boots and one of his old chambray shirts, the tails hanging almost to her knees. Her hair hung loose and spilled over her shoulders, gleaming gold in the morning sunlight.

It took all his willpower not to run up on the porch and kiss her senseless.

“Mr. Renquist wants to see Rowdy,” Garrett called as Mimi slowly approached them.

“Rowdy?” Renquist asked, though he'd turned to stare at Mimi.

“That's the bull's name,” Garrett informed him, then looked at Mimi. “Can you run the fence when I herd him into the corral?”

“Of course,” she replied, her voice sounding oddly strained. She looked a little pale, too.

“Is that dangerous?” Renquist asked, turning to Garrett.

Garrett looked away from Mimi, telling himself she was probably just tired. “Don't worry, Renquist. You'll be safe if you stay outside the corral.”

“I mean is it dangerous for a woman.”

“This is my ranch hand,” Garrett explained, motioning to her. “Mimi Banyon. Mimi, this is Paul Renquist.”

Renquist doffed his cowboy hat. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Banyon.”

Garrett hesitated, tempted to tell Renquist the bull wasn't for sale. He could sense the man was more a looker than a buyer, anyway. And he didn't like the way Renquist was looking at Mimi.

“Perhaps I should run the fence,” Renquist gallantly offered.

That was the last thing Garrett wanted. Either Renquist would screw up and let Rowdy out of the corral, or the feisty young bull would gore him and Garrett would have a pesky lawsuit on his hands.

“No,” Mimi said abruptly, then met Garrett's gaze. “I'll do it.”

He nodded, then headed for the barn, half sorry he hadn't taken Renquist up on the offer. A confrontation with Rowdy might have sent the wannabe cowboy running back to the city. Then he and Mimi could have picked up where they'd left off this morning.

With any luck, Renquist wouldn't find anything on the ranch that appealed to him and would leave empty-handed. The sooner, the better.

 

M
IMI WAITED
until Garrett was out of earshot, then she turned toward her fiancé. “What are you doing here?”

Paul leaned casually against a wooden fence post. “What do you think?”

She watched him, trying to gauge his mood. But Paul was one of the most controlled men she'd ever met. At one time, his iron control had made her feel safe. Now it scared her. “I don't know. I assume this isn't a coincidence.”

He smiled. “No. I knew I'd find you here.” His gaze raked over her, and his smiled widened. “I just didn't realize I'd find you looking quite so lovely.”

Mimi frowned, confused by his odd behavior. She'd expected anger. Recriminations. Certainly not this easygoing, almost flirtatious demeanor. Especially since the Paul Renquist she knew could never be described as easygoing.

Something was very wrong.

“Are you ready to come home?” Paul asked at last. “Your father is lost without you. So am I.”

“Stop it, Paul,” she hissed. “I know my father was
paying you to marry me. I heard all about his little incentive program.” Just the thought of it sickened her.

He shook his head. “I don't know what you think you heard, or from whom, but it's not at all what you think. I love you, Mimi. I forgive you. And I still want to marry you.”

Her stomach lurched. “I think you'd better leave.”

“Not without my bride.”

She took a step away from him. “You're going to have to sell yourself to some other gullible woman, Paul. I'm not buying it anymore.”

“But you haven't even heard my price yet.”

“I won't play games with you. And I won't let you play games with Garrett.”

He sneered. “Oh, it's Garrett, is it? Sounds like you're on pretty friendly terms with your boss. Tell me, Mimi, exactly what do your duties include?”

His cool demeanor had finally melted under the heat of his anger. It blazed in his eyes and pinched the corners of his thin mouth.

Mimi's head began to throb. She'd been fooling herself these past few weeks. Pretending she could leave her old life behind her without any repercussions.

She looked him squarely in the eye. “That's none of your business. I know now that I was wrong to run out of the church. I should have confronted you then and there.”

“Confronted me?” Paul moved closer to her. “How about married me? We should be celebrating our honeymoon on a sunny Caribbean island instead of arguing in a yard full of dirt and manure.”

She suppressed a shudder at how close she'd come to throwing her life away with this man. “Maybe I should have told you the marriage was off. But then, you should have told me a few things, too. Like the fact that my father was paying for stud services.”

He shook his head and gave her a patronizing smile. “You've got it all wrong, Mimi. Your father and I had simply worked out a business arrangement. He wants grandchildren, and I can happily provide them. I want money. Lots of it. And he can provide it.”

Mimi stared at him, wondering how she could have been so blind to his true motives. Had she really been that lonely? That desperate for love?

At least now it was all out in the open. “Why are you really here, Paul?”

“I've been worried about you, Mimi. No one has seen or heard from you since the wedding. Except for that postcard. Your father is…a little upset.”

“I'm sure that's an understatement,” she said wryly.