Buying His Bride (The Donovan Brothers Trilogy Book 1) (13 page)

His tone was gentle but Sierra stiffened all over again. She was tempted to lie, yet there was no shame in the truth. “That obvious, is it?” She sounded defensive, even to her own ears.

“Yes.”

She winced despite herself. “It must be a complete turn-off, then.” She tried to move away, but he stopped her. “Certainly my ex-boyfriend thought so.”

“Then the guy was a complete idiot. It’s a total turn-on. You erupt at the slightest touch. There’s no artifice in your response.” He smiled a little. “But you haven’t learned yet to pace yourself for the sake of your own pleasure or insist your lover do the same. You race for satisfaction, as if it will disappear if you don’t grab it immediately.”

It was true. Her experience of sexual pleasure with a partner was so fleeting she wanted to grab it with both hands lest it slip out of her grasp.

He stroked her hip. “You deserve a lover who takes his time with you, Sierra. Who savors every last inch of you. Who brings you to the brink over and over again, and only then give you release.”

His words and tone made her ache. Tonight, she wanted Michael to be that lover, and to hell with their contract. Damn thinking. She touched his chest, and he caught and stilled the movement with his hand.

“Tell me you don’t want me, and I won’t go any further.” His voice was taut.

“I can’t tell you that,” she said, “because I do.”

For a moment there was silence.

Then, with a groan that was half triumph, half relief, his mouth came down hard on hers. Weeks of pent-up longing were poured into that one kiss, his lips slanting over hers in a way that was punishing and pleading at the same time. Sierra gasped against his mouth and he took advantage of the access she’d given him. She’d never been so aroused.

“You’re gorgeous,” he whispered. “I’ve wanted you since the first day you walked into Murdoch’s office.” His eyes bored into hers. “We’ve both known this was coming.”

She moaned as Michael took her nipple into his mouth through the fabric, continuing to suck and tease it with his teeth. She wanted him. No strings and all.

“Let me see you.” Slowly he peeled her thin tank top up her chest and over her head. The cool air tautened the wet, sensitized tips of her breasts, and she tried to cover herself.

“Absolutely not.” He stopped her. “You’re not hiding that beautiful body from me tonight.”

She watched as he tugged her panties down her thighs and off her legs. A hot flame burned in his eyes, causing her to feel both exposed and aroused.

Her breath came faster as Michael licked his way down her body, pausing to dip his tongue in her naval with a tiny thrust that anticipated a more intimate entrance into her body. He whispered compliments as he went, arousing her further. Then his mouth was at the juncture of her thighs as he held them apart.

“Michael!” She didn’t recognize herself. She knew only that she craved more of him, would die if he didn’t lick and touch her there. Almost despite herself, she lifted her hips from the bed, grasping his dark hair and holding herself against his mouth.

Michael’s breath was coming faster now, too. He reached beneath her to cup her buttocks, held her up to his mouth and bent his head. Already he was proving himself a generous lover.

Sierra cried out, fisting her hand in the sheets on either side of her. Surely he would make her come apart. “Please,” she gasped. “Please…now.”

He stopped for a moment and looked up the length of her body. He was breathing deeply, self-control etched in the hard angles of his face. “I said you deserve a lover who takes his time with you. This is just the beginning.”

Slipping two fingers into her moist channel and thrusting, he resumed the intimate ministrations of his mouth, increasing pressure. Licking into her heated core, Michael flicked his tongue over its swollen bud. Her wordless, almost desperate cries escalated as her body clenched, and then those cries turned into a long scream as she spasmed and came hard against his mouth.

He licked her from her first orgasm through her second and third before Sierra pulled him up to the level of her face. “Stop…my turn,” she gasped.

The question in his eyes turned to a burning affirmative response. Hooking the waistband of his boxers with her fingers, she dragged them over the tent of his erection, down his thighs. With an impatient growl, he helped her, and then lay back so she could look at him.

She swallowed. He was so big. So hard. She wanted to taste him.

Instinct guided her as she knelt before him on the bed and took him in her mouth. She’d never enjoyed this aspect of sex before, but she never wanted a man as much as she wanted Michael. As she cupped him below and moved her mouth up and down his length, her desire built again. She hummed in the back of her throat. She’d never wanted to make love to William like this.

“Jesus, Sierra. That feels so good.” He fisted his hands in her hair as she moved up and down his shaft.

“Enough!” Almost roughly, he drew her up, desire etched on his face. “That’s all I can take right now.” He lowered her onto her back.

Sierra reached up and brought him down on top of her. His shaft rubbed against her wet heat. “Now,” she whispered, shifting beneath him to bring her more fully into the hollow of her thighs. “I want you now.”

If she had to, she’d beg.

“Wait,” he groaned, fumbling with his discarded jeans next to the bed. Grabbing a foil packet and opening it with his teeth, he sheathed himself and then loomed over her.

He braced himself on either side of her shoulders as she wrapped her fingers around him and guided him to her entrance. She gripped his hips, encouraging him, and then he was inside her, filling her, slowly at first, inch by inch.

She wrapped her legs around his waist to deepen his penetration, and then he was buried in her wet heat.

No strings.

“You okay?” His face was strained with desire.

“Don’t stop.” She felt mindless with need. She lifted her head to bite his shoulder none too gently.

His control snapped. She gasped as he withdrew, then plunged deeply into her core. They were moving together in an ancient rhythm, their moans mingling. Sierra raced toward her peak, Michael’s hoarse encouragement in her ear.

“That’s it, babe. Come on. That’s it!”

The sound of their bodies moving together, the feel of Michael inside her, and the scent of sex around them pushed her over the edge at last. With a scream of pleasure that was so intense it was almost painful, Sierra came hard a fourth time. Orgasm wracked her body. Her inner muscles tightened around his length. Michael shouted her name a moment later, and then he, too, shuddered as he thrust himself into her a final time and lost himself in her dark heat.

Chapter Nine

Sierra woke with a start and glanced at her watch. It was still early morning, but Michael was nowhere to be seen. That was just as well. What on earth would she say to him after the night they’d shared?

He didn’t return until after she showered and dressed. It was now or never. They had to discuss it. “Michael. Let’s talk about last night.”

“Look, let’s not make a big deal out of what happened, Sierra. It doesn’t have to be complicated. All we have to do is marry soon, stay together for the remainder of our contract, and then we’ll both be free to go our own ways. No strings attached, remember?” Michael’s expression was remote.

Trepidation gave way to caution.

Sex didn’t involve strings for him, then. He was the well-known ladies’ man whose image she had been hired to rehabilitate. Of course it didn’t.

“Sex wasn’t part of our original bargain,” she observed. “You don’t think that complicates things a little now?”

“It was a mistake. We got carried away.” His face looked as if it were carved in granite. “However, there’s no harm done. We’re consenting adults. We simply revert to the terms of our deal and move forward with no repetition of last night. Agreed?”

Chilled at his bloodless tone, particularly because it was such a vivid contrast with the passionate man of the night before, Sierra blinked. She wasn’t looking for strings, either. Her few personal dealings with men had been complete disasters. So why should she care about how distant Michael behaved this morning? Whatever was bothering him, he was a client and nothing more. If he chose to act like a jerk, that was his problem, not hers.

“Agreed,” she managed through stiff lips.

She wasn’t hurt. But if she’d needed any more proof that she was a rotten judge of men’s characters, here it was. She hadn’t pegged Michael for one who’d be ungracious after spending the night with a woman. Not that it mattered. The further away they kept from each other, the better.

The next two months kept them occupied, appearing at various social events in the evenings following their busy workdays, but they had very little time alone. After the night in Napa, their relationship was strained, though they kept up appearances.

Sensitive to the Callahans’ limited financial means, Connor declared he would host the wedding that he expected to be an elaborate affair. Horrified at the idea of a large church wedding for a marriage that was a façade, however, Sierra firmly refused to consider it.

To her surprise, Michael supported her.

Of course, he had no wish for a showy wedding that would mean nothing, either. No wonder he agreed with her wishes.

Sierra insisted on a simple afternoon civil ceremony at the Donovan home instead. “Then I’ll host a dinner reception afterward at the Excelsior Hotel,” said Connor one evening when she and Michael were having dinner with him. He was adamant.

“We’ll have to relent on this one,” Michael told her afterward. “A certain amount of show is part of being part of this family, and my father wants to present us to the world, some local city officials, our business associates, long-time friends. He’s been waiting years for me to get married. Remember, we’re doing this for him.”

And for her mother and Claddagh.

Much to her mother’s disappointment, Sierra refused to wear a traditional wedding gown. Again, Michael backed her up. At his insistence, he footed the bill for a designer winter white suit that Jen picked out and was special-ordered.

“It probably costs more than any wedding gown would have!” Sierra expostulated.

Michael shrugged. “You know I can afford it. It will look perfect on you.”

“The groom isn’t supposed to buy the bride’s dress!”

“Ours is not a typical arrangement, so why be conventional now? You’re going to be my wife. Why shouldn’t I buy you clothes if I want, and if you want to wear them?”

Now the judge spoke. “By the authority vested in me by the laws of the state of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Was she in an episode of
The Twilight Zone
? Despite the warm fire that burned in the living room against the gloom of a chilly San Francisco fall afternoon, she shivered. How had time flown by?

Michael kissed her, whispered, “Here we go,” and turned with her to face the tiny group of friends and family. It was a far cry from San Francisco society’s expectations.

“Mr. and Mrs. Michael Donovan.” The beaming judge presented them to their guests.

A smattering of applause accompanied the announcement. Grace and Connor were there, as well as Rafe and Gabe. John Murdoch was also present, as were Brian and Bruce. Jen and Nora were her attendants.

That was it.

It was an even smaller affair than the cocktail party where their engagement had been announced. That was the way Sierra wanted it.

“It’s not the wedding I imagined for you two, but you and Michael have made me very happy, my dear.” Connor was the first to embrace her. He had been growing stronger over the months of her engagement to Michael, and Sierra was touched by the genuine affection he showed her. “I couldn’t be more delighted in his choice of bride!”

Next to hug her after Connor was Grace. “Be happy, darling,” she whispered in Sierra’s ear. She seemed far less careworn now. That alone made the day worthwhile.

But she wished she didn’t have to lie to either of their parents. The falseness of their marriage rendered even this simplest afternoon ceremony a travesty. She hadn’t bargained on feeling so guilty.

“Good job, Michael.” Gabe clapped his brother on the back.

Rafe observed, “You chose well.”

The four Donovan men certainly were a study in alpha males, Sierra thought, not for the first time. Connor was the tallest with snowy white hair, and his three sons, almost as tall, each attractive in his unique way. In her eyes, however, Michael outshined the others. It was probably only because she knew him better.

“I’m so happy for you!” Nora gave her a huge hug.

Neither she nor Jen understood Sierra’s desire for a tiny wedding, particularly as she was marrying into one of San Francisco’s oldest and wealthiest families. They’d been with her that morning, though, helping her dress and keeping her company before the wedding, every bit as attentive as they would have been for a larger, more formal ceremony.

Close on Nora’s heels was Jen. “As usual, you look fabulous. Didn’t I tell Michael I would help you find the perfect bridal outfit?”

Sierra had to admit that Jen and Michael had been right about the suit. It looked beautiful, and she felt beautiful in it. Still, Sierra watched the scene in the room from afar, outside her own body.

A wave of panic engulfed her. What had she done?

At that moment, Michael reclaimed her from the small clutch of well-wishers, taking her aside and offering her a flute of champagne. “Are you all right?” he asked in an undertone. “You look sick all of a sudden.”

“I
am
sick,” she whispered back through a falsely bright smile. “I can’t believe you aren’t.”

“Too late for that now.” Shades of the morning after in Napa were in his tone. As responses went, it wasn’t the most reassuring thing she’d ever heard. “Heads up. My father’s about to give a toast.”

Arm around Sierra’s waist, Michael became the picture of a loving husband as he turned them toward the assembled group, smiling his response to Connor’s salute welcoming Sierra into the family.