Heather Graham (11 page)

She smiled. “For the moment?” she asked wistfully.

For always,
he thought. And he meant it. He had never seen eyes so beautifully wide and trusting, nor had he ever been more beguiled by a spill of hair floating like silk over a pillow, becoming entangled with his fingers. She was soft and firm beneath him; she had touched him with hunger and awe. Wherever his body had craved her, she had come with her caress.

And even now he could feel the undulation of her hips beneath him, sweetly rhythmic, like a haunting melody that drew him closer, mesmerizing and spellbinding.

He slid his hands along her back to the curve of her buttocks and lifted her, bringing her to meet his thrust. A little sound escaped her, and she clung to him. He held still, letting her absorb him, kissing her lightly, then deeply plunging his tongue into her mouth along with the thrust of his body.

He took care with her, gentle care, tender care, until her thrusts rose to meet his, and then something somewhere inside him exploded with a wild magic. His desire riddled through him like drumbeats, a thundering pulse that ruled his body. She was a blaze that embraced and welcomed him and urged him ever onward. Onward, reaching for a climax that rent him again and again as waves of release washed through him with a splendor that consumed his soul. Vaguely he heard her cry out with a sweet, wondering ecstasy all her own, and he pulled her into his arms, spent and shaken by the brilliance of their passion.

Long moments later he felt her shift and realized his weight was still on her. He quickly moved over to her side and raised himself on an elbow to see her in the darkness. She was still breathing heavily, and a glimmer of perspiration made her breasts catch the moon’s reflection as they rose and fell. Fascinated all over again, he cupped one firm mound in his hand.

His eyes met hers again. She curled against him.

“Who are you really, Kane?”

“Does it matter?” he asked, smoothing her damp hair from her cheek, running his knuckles lightly over the softness of her flesh.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“I’m the man who’s falling in love with you. The man who’s in love with you. The man who’s going to marry you.”

She smiled at him and touched the cleft in his jaw. “This isn’t the Wild West, partner,” she drawled softly. “You don’t have to marry the lady just because you’ve stolen her virtue.”

“I didn’t steal anything; it was given to me,” he told her. “And I do have to marry the lady … because she’s mine.” He kissed her forehead, her nose, her lips. “Because I’m hers.”

And then he balanced himself above her again, drawn by the wide splendor of her eyes. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

She shook her head no.

He suddenly felt himself grow tense with newfound anger. “I swear if I ever see Ken Lander near you again, he won’t be able to walk away.”

Martie shivered a little at the intensity of his words.

“Oh, my God,” he murmured suddenly, vehemently, burying his face against her hair and holding her tight. “I’ve never felt anything like this. …”

She smiled, feeling an electric thrill race through her from the beauty of his words. “Really?” she murmured. “Really.”

He looked at her again, grinning like a schoolboy. “All mine, only mine!” he said teasingly.

“Do men always get so possessive?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never felt possessive before. But right now I feel like Christopher Columbus—sailing uncharted waters and making the discovery of a lifetime. Only this is a discovery I intend to see remains charted by one man—one man alone.”

She stared at him, and her smile faded as she grew curious. “How can you know that you love me, Kane?”

“I just do. And I know now that you have the same feelings, the same intensity, or you would never have been with me tonight.”

She flushed a little because she couldn’t deny his words. That she had been overwhelmed by him was obvious. That she never done anything like this before was equally obvious.

But she shook her head, and she spoke in a whisper. “You still haven’t answered me, Kane. Who are you?”

He grinned. “Marry me, Martie. Find out over the years and years it takes to live out a lifetime.”

“You’re crazy.”

“I’m serious.”

“You can’t be!”

“I am.”

“Kane—”

“All right.” He sighed with resignation and drew his finger slowly over her collarbone, then down between the valley of her breasts. He leaned over her, and against her lips he whispered, “Then I’ll have to settle for another … trial run, my love.”

Within seconds she was far too breathless to argue that proposal.

“L
ET’S NOT GO TO
Joe’s tonight,” Kane said suddenly.

They had been companionably silent for so long that Martine jumped at the sound of his voice. It had been a little more than a week since the first night she had shared with him, and she mused now that though she knew him with a wonderful intimacy, he still kept a lot of his thoughts to himself and was therefore able to startle her when he did speak suddenly.

She realized, too, that the ranch had never run so smoothly. In fact, everything in her life seemed smooth and incredible, as if she were living among the clouds.

Martie didn’t always know where Kane was since he had a habit of disappearing at the strangest times, yet she felt little jealousy. Perhaps it was because when they were alone he had such a talent for making her feel as if she were beautiful and unique, the most important person in the world to him.

He could also make her laugh easily, and once she had started laughing, he could sober her just as quickly, sweeping her at will into a whirlwind of passion and desire. …

“Hey!” He nudged her lightly. “Are you paying any attention to me, Ms. Galway? I said, let’s skip Joe’s. I can give him a call and beg out of the evening.”

It was lunchtime, and they were sitting by the brook. Kane was resting against a tree; Martine was situated between his knees, resting her head against his chest. It was a beautiful place to be. She felt very content and lazy, and very loved, just leaning against him and staring up at the dark patterns the leaves were creating against the sky.

“Why not?” she asked, twisting her head to look up at him.

He was staring out at the plain, idly chewing on a blade of grass and lightly stroking her arm.

“I think we should do something alone. Go out, have dinner, get married.”

Martine laughed. He gazed down at her, smiling. She liked the soft golden glow in his eyes.

“You’re crazy!” she exclaimed. “You don’t really know me—”

“I know everything I need to know,” he said determinedly.

“But I still don’t know anything about you!”

“Don’t you?” he said lightly, and she found herself blushing because physically there wasn’t much she didn’t know about him now.

“I don’t know when your birthday is; I don’t know how old you are, I don’t know where you come from. I don’t know if you hate your brother or if you even have a brother.”

“I have two of them and I love them both. If you were to marry me, you’d find out my age and my birth date—I’d have to fill them in on the license. Let me see … both my parents are living; they’re healthy, normal people with no serious complexes that I know about. I like big breakfasts, beer, and I admit to a bad temper at times. I don’t drink too much, I don’t gamble too much, and there’s no record of lunacy in the family tree. I pick up after myself, I can use both a washer and dryer, and I can cook.”

“You’re perfect!” Martie laughed, nuzzling her forehead against his chin.

“So grab me—quickly,” he told her.

“Hmm. You’re just a little too perfect,” she murmured, adding tauntingly, “The strong, silent type. Too silent.”

“Oh, no.” He groaned. “Not that again!”

“You are serious, aren’t you?” she asked, twisting around to stare up into his eyes. He nodded slowly with a rueful grin, and she felt a little thrill race through her. Could he really, really be in love with her? Feeling the same forever fascination that burned in her heart whenever she gazed his way?

She tried to steady the soaring excitement that raced through her and closed her eyes to lie against his shoulder again. What did
she
feel? He had taken her so completely by storm, surely her emotions were reeling with the sheer physical impact he had had upon her. Nothing in her life had prepared her for Kane. Their nights together had been like roller-coaster rides, shatteringly skyrocketing her again and again to realms of a heaven she had never imagined could exist. Was she so beguiled by him that she couldn’t think or feel straight?

It was possible, she told herself firmly, but there had been more than the volatile passion and excitement. Martie instinctively knew that she could not have found a more tender lover, a more gentle tutor. He could be highly aggressive, but he could as easily draw back to lead her along.

She had worried once that he would leave her, but now he wanted to marry her. In all her life she had never met a man like Kane. It was doubtful if she would ever do so again. He wanted to bind their lives together. If she gave him up …

She stared up at him again. “Kane, what’s the need to rush? I know I don’t want to lose you, but it’s just so sudden that it’s—crazy!”

He laughed, tossing the blade of grass away. He bent down to kiss her passionately, his hand savoring the fullness of her breast as his lips coerced hers with a thrilling heat.

And when he broke away, his mouth remained close to hers. “You’re the reason,” he whispered. “What’s between us is the reason. I can’t let you go, Martie. I want you bound to me in every way possible. I want you to love me, I want you to be my wife. I want you to bear my name and our children and everything else. And if another man even gazed at you too long, I think I’d go a little insane.”

She swallowed, aware of the vehemence of his whisper. She was in love with him, she realized fully. Fascinated … and in love. If he were to walk away from her now, she would ache as if she had lost part of herself. He had rescued her, he had awakened her—and she was far more his than she wanted him to know.

She tried to offer him a taunting grin. “Do you propose often?”

“I’ve never proposed before in my life.”

“But you’ve had lots of affairs, haven’t you?”

He shrugged, holding her close. “A share, I suppose. That’s why I know. …Martine, I’ve never felt anything like this. I want to spend my life getting to know you, everything about you, waking up with you on the pillow beside me, touching you, having you.”

“It’s crazy,” she reiterated for what felt like the thousandth time.

He grinned. “Haven’t you ever done anything crazy? Seen something you wanted and just reached to grab it?”

“No,” she replied honestly. “I’ve never really had the time or the chance. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I think I’ve had a lovely life! The local junior college was great, but with Mom gone, I didn’t have all the free time the other kids did. I was always feeding hands, cleaning stalls, keeping the house up, and riding the old range! And then, when I lost Dad …” Her voice drifted away; it was still too close for her to speak without emotion, so she determined not to speak anymore.

He shifted and pulled her to him on the bed of grass beneath the tree. His eyes appeared very dark and intense when he spoke, his voice strong and warm and deeply impassioned. “Martine, you’ve had such a hard time. I want to make life easier for you; I want to make it fun. I want to love and cherish you and share your fights and help win your battles. Trust me. I love you.”

She smiled, touching the contour of his strong jaw with wonder. “It wasn’t all that bad,” she said a little ruefully. “I do know how to fight by myself!”

“I know. I’ve seen you. But everyone needs someone on their side, Martine.” He rolled onto his back and stared up at the sun. “If you’re worried about the ranch,” he said suddenly, a little harshly, “we can have some kind of a prenuptial document drawn up, stating that you own it entirely and always will.”

She froze. “I—I’m—”

“What?”

She leaned over him, staring earnestly into his eyes. “Kane, if we were to get married, I wouldn’t want any documents or legal agreements. I know it’s done sometimes, but that isn’t marriage to me. Marriage means forever.”

He wove his fingers through her hair, pulling her closer. “Marriage is meant to be forever,” he told her softly. “I mean to love you forever.”

She laughed, suddenly so thrilled and excited that she was breathless. “All right, then. How about a month from today?”

He sat up abruptly and pulled her across his lap and into his arms. “What’s the matter with today?”

“Today?”

“Why put it off?” he asked. “Let’s elope. We can fly into Vegas for the ceremony if you like. We’ll spend a quick honeymoon there for the weekend and show up at Joe’s for dinner Monday night as an old married couple!”

“It’s insane. …”

“Let’s do it!”

She found herself staring into the golden flames of his eyes as if hypnotized. Then she slowly nodded.

He let out something like a rebel war cry and stood with her still in his arms, laughing delightedly.

“Ms. Galway, get back to the ranch and start packing. I’ll ride out and find Bill and tell him he’s in charge until Monday.”

He set her on her feet, turned her toward her horse, and gave her a gentle prod toward Cheyenne with a tap on her bottom.

“Give them an inch, and they think they own you!” Martine said complainingly, but her heart was racing. She was very breathless and excited and could hardly believe what she was doing.

Yet she wanted to do it. Suddenly and with all her heart she was sure. She wanted to be his wife. She wanted to live with him and grow old with him and one day share a family with him. …He wanted to marry her. He hadn’t just wanted her. He had fallen in love with her, he did love her—and he did want to marry her.

“I haven’t got a thing to wear!” she cried suddenly.

“We’ll buy something,” he said. “Just hurry or we’ll never get a license in time. Now you have got me crazy. If you aren’t Mrs. Kane Montgomery by tonight, I could wind up certifiably insane!”