All Through the Night (48 page)

“Marry you?” she repeated stupidly.

Jacob’s face tightened in dismay. “Don’t tell me I’m scaring you away again. I’m so tired of chasing you, Annie. You’re wearing me out.”

She soothed the anxious line in his brow with her fingertip, and slid her hand down to caress his scratchy, beautifully formed jaw. “It would take a lot to wear you out, Jacob,” she observed.

He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers. “Maybe so,” he said quietly. “But I’d rather save my energy for other things.”

Her heart swelled with tenderness at the exhaustion in his voice. She couldn’t fight the feeling any longer, and besides, this had to be right because it felt incredibly, marvelously lucky. She rose up on tiptoe and pulled his head down to meet her kiss. “I won’t run away.”

His eyes flashed. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

“So will you marry me, then?”

She laughed, delighted. “Well, maybe you could tell me a bit about yourself. Like, what’s your last name?”

“Kerr. I’m an architect. Very respectable. Nice family, no prison record,” he said swiftly. “Now will you marry me?”

Her jaw dropped. “Architect?”

A big man with a red nose prodded Annie’s shoulder. “Hey, you guys gonna use this machine, or what?” he brayed in a boozy voice.

Jacob grinned and held out the silver dollar. “So? Are you going to play?”

“I’ve already won,” she said, happy tears trembling on her eyelashes. “But I guess I might as well. This won’t take long,” she assured the red-nosed man with a smile. She inserted the coin into the slot and hauled down on the handle.

Jackpot. Bells dinged and people cheered. Shining silver dollars clattered out in a thick, liquid-looking stream. Annie leaped into Jacob’s arms, and wrapped her legs gleefully around his waist.

“Tonight, the motel’s on me,” she crowed. “And the champagne, too!”

Jacob buried his face against her neck and held her close, his body trembling. “Deal,” he said.

Later, cuddled together in the sagging bed in the first roadside motel they found, Annie stretched and rested her head on his broad, warm chest. “I would never have pegged you as an architect,” she said in a wondering voice. “That long hair of yours.”

He gave her a guilty smile. “I thought it would ruin my bad-ass, biker dude image if I let on that I know how to iron a dress shirt.”

She laughed and reached for her glass, taking a lazy sip of champagne. “I thought you were going to ask me to be your biker babe, and ride off into the sunset with you on the back of your hog.”

He wrapped one of her curls around his finger and stroked it against his cheek. “Would you have gone for it?”

“I think you could convince me to do just about anything,” she said with absolute seriousness.

“I still haven’t convinced you to marry me,” he grumbled.

She rested her chin on her crossed arms. “Give me more details, Jacob,” she teased. “Like, what’s the name of the firm where you work?”

He snorted. “Are you going to call and check my references?”

“Spit it out, Kerr,” she said in a steely voice.

He rolled his eyes. “It’s called Kerr and Associates,” he muttered.

Annie’s eyes widened. She was silent for a long moment. “As in… Jacob Kerr and his associates?” she said hesitantly.

“Yeah,” he snapped.

“Ah,” she murmured. “And… what do you and your associates build?”

He shrugged. “Various things. Stadiums, office buildings, airports.”

“Airports?” She disentangled herself and sat up. “Don’t tell me you’re a young urban professional with a closet full of Armani suits and ties.”

His eyes narrowed. “Are you going to hold it against me?”

She scrambled off the bed, flushed with outrage. “You lied to me!”

“Not really,” he muttered defensively. “I just never got around to telling you about myself. You weren’t all that forthcoming, either.”

But Annie was on a roll. “You snake! You stalk me, and pursue me, and seduce me, and mess with my mind, and bend me to your will, and now I find out that you… that you build
airports
!”

His face was abjectly contrite. “I’m so sorry. Really.”

“And after all that, you have the nerve to ask me to marry you?”

He reached out a long arm and yanked her back down on top of him. “I’m begging you, then.” His voice was rough with intensity.

She scrambled off his hard body and slid off the bed. He followed with catlike swiftness.

“That’s enough of that strong-arm stuff,” she warned him, backing hastily away. “I won’t stand for it. You be nice, Jacob.”

He stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes wary. “I’m sorry,” he said carefully. He waited, naked and beautiful, his arms at his sides and his fists clenched. The silence between them was thick with emotion, with words unsaid and questions unanswered. The air hummed with it.

Oh, enough, already. Her mind was made up, and there was no reason to keep torturing him.

Well, then again… maybe just a tiny bit.

She crossed her arms over her breasts and widened her stance aggressively. “I’m afraid a lame-ass apology is just not going to cut it.”

A wary smile played about the corners of his sensual mouth. “Just what would cut it?”

She put her hands up on his muscular shoulders, and shoved down hard. A comprehending grin of delight split his face, and he folded promptly to his knees. “Your wish is my command, Empress Annie,” he said softly, nuzzling her belly.

“It damn well better be,” she said breathlessly. “Start apologizing, buddy, and you better make it good, because your ass is mine tonight.”

He looked up, laughter crinkling up the gorgeous laugh lines around his eyes. “Do you mean that literally?”

Annie smiled down at him, sweetly, cruelly. “That’s for me to know and for you to wonder about, loverboy,” she purred.

He shook with laughter. He didn’t look as scared as he ought to be, she thought, trying not to giggle. A ruthless dominatrix did not giggle. But there was too much emotion bottled up inside them both. It fizzed out like champagne bubbles, and they laughed until their laughter melted into something deeper, more wrenching. Jacob’s shoulders shook, and Annie cradled his dark head against her belly. She sank down to her knees and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Of course I’ll marry you, you big idiot,” she whispered.

His arms encircled her, squeezing her breathless. “You mean it?”

She pried his damp face away from her shoulder. “You still need convincing?”

He nodded, his face somber. “You better believe it.”

She cradled his face in her hands and kissed him tenderly. “I never could resist a challenge,” she said.

About the Authors

SUZANNE FORSTER
has written more than twenty novels and has been the recipient of countless awards, including the National Readers’ Choice Award for SHAMELESS, her mainstream debut. Her books routinely hit top spots on the
USA Today
bestseller list, and numerous others. Her last novel, THE MORNING AFTER, appeared on the extended
New York Times
bestseller list. She lives in Newport Beach, CA.

She’s one of the hottest writers in the industry. Romantic Times calls her the Queen of Erotic Romance. She’s
THEA DEVINE
(yes, it’s her real name), author of seventeen steamy full-length novels and a half dozen sexy novellas. In addition, her erotic short fiction has been published by
Penthouse Forum
, and she also writes contemporary romance and is a long-time freelance manuscript reader. She lives in New York’s Westchester County with John, her husband of thirty-five years. Visit her website at
http://www.theadevine.com/
or contact her at
[email protected]
.

LORI FOSTER
has become the bestselling author of over twenty-eight novels since publishing her first book in 1996. She writes for five different publishers, doing single title, category, special projects, novellas, an electronic book, and online serials. She also writes lead articles for
Writers Digest
magazine and has a very popular bimonthly column on Editor Interview in RWR. Lori, her husband of twenty-two years, their three sons, and their Chihuahua, Brock, all live in rural Ohio. You can write Lori at: Lori Foster, P.O. Box 854, Ross, OH 45061, or visit her webpage at
http://www.lorifoster.com/

SHANNON McKENNA
lives in southern Italy, where she spends her time juggling two careers, writing and music. After living for several years in New York City, singing celtic, renaissance, and medieval music and working a bewildering variety of temporary jobs, she moved to Italy; for the sun, the sea, the food, and the freedom to take naps — but most importantly, for love. She and her husband live within sight of the sunny Adriatic.