Highly Compromised Position (5 page)

Rose chilled, seeing a parallel to her own pregnancy
and knowing she would never give up her baby willingly. At the same time she was thankful her father had been loving and accepting. “Did you ever know your father's identity?”

Tom shook his head, and she felt as if a wall had just risen between them. “My blood mother was Annawyn. My blood father was unknown. She never told even Lucas.”

“How did you go from adoption to foster homes?”

“My adoptive parents were killed in a car accident. My foster experiences were good, but it's not the same as your own family. I'm glad to have found Uncle Lucas. Anyway, that's the past,” Tom said and his tone lightened. He pulled her closer to him, and she was keenly aware of her legs brushing against his while they danced. “Now Uncle Lucas has gotten interested in family history. He's behind having Jonathan's house restored.”

“Nita told me. Then the historic site is going to be donated to Royal.”

“My uncle and cousins are great. And because I came here to spend time with them, I found you again.” When Tom looked down at her, his gaze warmed.

“I'm here because I worry about Nita and Daddy. Too many bad things have happened. When I was in Dallas, I couldn't get them off my mind.”

“I worry about you out there in the guesthouse alone. Someone is dead set on hurting the Windcrofts, and at least Connor is in the main house where he can guard Nita and your father. I'd say you're vulnerable where you are.”

“Since I haven't lived here for a long time, I don't feel like I'm involved,” she said, her gaze lowering to his mouth while she remembered how it felt to have his lips on hers.

“You're a Windcroft, so you're at risk. You need to be careful, too,” he said, his gaze roaming over her features while she mulled over his warning.

“All of you are so closemouthed about your Cattleman's Club, but I know that Nita sought your help involving the farm.”

“So far, no one has turned up anything.” Tom's breath fanned her ear and tickled her.

“Rose,” he murmured. “I want you naked in my arms.”

She inhaled, looking up at him. “I lost myself that weekend. I don't usually act so impulsively.” She knew she had an opening to tell him about her pregnancy, but the words wouldn't come.

He gave her a look that tangled her thought processes. “I'm glad you were impulsive. That was one of the best weekends I've ever had.”

Before she could answer, the music changed to a fast number. They moved apart and continued to dance. After two more numbers he shed his coat.

At midnight she caught his hand. “I need to go home. It's getting late, and by the time we drive back to the farm, it'll be really late.”

“Sure,” he said, taking her arm to leave. As soon as they were in the car, they rode in silence for a few minutes. Rose's thoughts were on her need to admit the truth to Tom. Reluctance still filled her as they left Royal. Avoiding the issue, she turned in the seat to watch him drive.

“Tell me some more about your business. How did you get into demolition?” she asked.

“I got a baseball scholarship to college, where I majored in engineering. I was fascinated by the science of demolition but put it aside when I graduated and went
with the pros.” As he answered her, he adjusted the rearview mirror.

“You're that Tom Morgan of baseball?” she asked in surprise. “I don't follow the games, but I've heard your name,” she said, realizing that explained why he was so fit and muscular.

“After baseball I returned to my other interests and started my own demolition contracting firm,” Tom continued, yet she suspected his attention wasn't fully on their conversation and her concern grew. The night seemed to close in and the darkness held hidden threats. She knew her imagination was taking leaps and she reminded herself that they were safe in a locked car, still in Royal.

“I am really looking forward to moving to this ranch. I want you to go with me to look at the land I've bought.”

She took a deep breath, realizing how entwined their lives were becoming whether she wanted it or not. The thought that control over her life was slipping away from her disturbed her.

“A ranch will be a welcome challenge,” he replied, glancing again in the rearview mirror, and she turned to look over her shoulder at the traffic behind them.

“And you like challenges most of the time,” she said, thinking she hadn't been one. She had melted in his arms and succumbed to his seductive charm instantly.

“I like some contests but not all,” he replied too solemnly while he continued to glance into the rearview mirror.

“You're watching to see if we're being followed, aren't you?” she asked as a chill slithered down her spine.

R
ose looked over her shoulder. “Do we have someone tailing us?” she repeated, unable to imagine that she would be involved in what had been happening at the farm.

“No, but I don't want to be caught unawares.”

Neither did she, and it was a relief when they passed through the gates of the horse farm. She relaxed as Tom drove to the guesthouse. When he unlocked and held open her door, she looked up at him. She hadn't wanted to rush things, but she also didn't want the night to end. She had enjoyed being with him, and it seemed too soon to say goodbye.

“Want to come in?” she asked, once again knowing she was taunting a tiger and going to bring more trouble on herself. “You can have a glass of wine or a cup
of coffee—whichever you prefer. Or hot chocolate, which is what I like at bedtime.”

“You know what I like at bedtime?” he asked in a husky voice, following her inside, then closing and locking the door.

“I don't think I want to find out,” she said, moving ahead of him toward her kitchen. “What would you like to drink?”

“I'll take hot chocolate with you,” he said, catching up to her in long strides and taking her arm. “I know I'm being overprotective, but let me go into the kitchen first,” he suggested.

“Oh, surely everything is all right. We have an alarm system and lights. Connor has men patrolling the place at night.”

“Indulge me and let me check out the house,” Tom said with a finality that ended her argument. When he went ahead of her to switch on lights and look around, it occurred to her that he might be armed. Another chill slid down her spine, but then she shrugged it away. It seemed absurd to think she could be in danger. Yet she knew it was possible. Nita had been through something similar and Rose knew how shocked Nita had been when bad things had started happening.

Tom moved around the room, looking in the pantry, then the utility room. Finally he motioned her into the kitchen. “You fix the drinks while I continue to look around.”

When he left, she gazed out a window at the dark night that had never bothered her before. Now the darkness held a potential for evil, and she closed the wooden shutters.

In minutes she had prepared steaming mugs of hot
chocolate. When Tom returned, he had shed his coat and tie, unbuttoned his collar and rolled back his sleeves.

“Our chocolate is ready and I've got a plate of cookies. We can take them into the other room and build a fire,” Rose said.

He took the tray holding the cups and plate from her and carried it into the large living area, where he put it down and crossed the room to start a fire. While he did, she switched on the stereo to familiar old favorites. As soon as the fire was roaring, Tom turned around. Rose sat on the leather sofa, expecting him to join her. Instead he walked around the room switching off the lamps, so the only light was from the blazing fire and the golden glow that spilled from the hall.

As he approached her, Rose's heart thudded. One look into his smoky eyes and she knew he intended to kiss her.

“Come here,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet.

Her common sense said to protest and step away, but words wouldn't come and she wanted to kiss him.

“Since I walked through the front door at seven,” he said as he wrapped her in his embrace, “I've exhibited endless patience, because I've wanted to be here with you in my arms. That quick kiss in the restaurant was torment. I wanted so much more.” Placing both hands on either side of her head, he combed his fingers into her hair. “I don't think you want to say goodbye. Right now your pulse is racing just as mine is. You sound as breathless as I feel,” he said, brushing light kisses on her temple. He tilted her head up to look into her eyes and when he did, a riveting gray devoured her. His eyes were thickly lashed, impossible to withstand. Why was she so susceptible to his charm, so easily seduced by him?

Her pulse pounded and her mouth went dry. She slid her arms around his neck. She wanted him with all her being and she knew she was asking for trouble by the wagonload. She should get him out of her life until she was ready to inform him of her pregnancy.

But desire was a hot flame, a need that drove everything else out of mind. As he leaned down to kiss her, she stood on tiptoe. Their tongues clashed and his went deep into her mouth, stroking and sending ripples of erotic feelings that heightened her longing.

“Ah, Rose,” he said. “How I've wanted you and dreamed of you. I want my hands and my tongue all over you.”

His words carried their own caresses while his hand went to her zipper, and cool air brushed her shoulders as he peeled away her dress. They were near the fire, and its warmth spilled over her but was nothing compared to the heat that Tom stirred.

When she unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders, her fingers shook with urgency. He tossed away his shirt and she unfastened his belt.

Bending down, Tom planted kisses from the corner of her mouth, along her ear and down her throat. His large hands cupped her breasts. She closed her eyes as his every touch rocked her. With a flick of his fingers he unfastened the clasp to her lacy black bra and tossed it aside.

“Darlin', you're gorgeous. You take my breath,” he said, cupping her breasts and circling her taut nipples with his thumbs, lazy circles that tormented and teased. “Do you like that?” he asked. “Say it. Tell me you like it.”

“You know I like what you're doing,” she gasped, barely able to talk.

He took her nipple in his mouth, biting so lightly,
only enough to heighten her response, and then his tongue leisurely stroked the taut bud.

Desire was a scalding ache low inside her. She wanted him with all her being, had yearned for him for too long now. She shut her mind to the future and feasted on the present.

When he unzipped his trousers, they fell around his ankles. In a flash he shed his shoes, socks and white briefs, and she inhaled as her gaze roamed over his muscled body and strong legs, his hard masculinity.

Taking his stiff rod in her hand, she knelt to caress him, and then her tongue played with him until he groaned and slipped his hands beneath her arms, hauling her to her feet.

He gathered her into his embrace for a kiss that poured out the depth of his need and made her tremble with awe that he could want her so much.

How she desired him! She stroked his thick manhood until he picked her up and laid her on the rug in front of the fire. Watching her, he moved between her thighs, putting her legs over his shoulders to give him access to her as, with his tongue, he delved in her most intimate places.

She moaned, holding his strong arms, moving her hips, wanting more of him. “Tom, come here,” she cried.

He stretched out beside her, taking her into his arms and lavishing kisses on her throat and ear, letting his hand drift down between her legs, his fingers going where his tongue had been as he began to caress her, igniting fires that engulfed her in sensation.

While her hips thrashed and a blinding need built, she clung to him.

“Tom!” she cried, nipping his shoulder, fondling his
thick manhood, lost to his touch and the passion that consumed her. “Tom, I want you.”

Release burst in her, but only sufficient to intensify her need for all of him. She pushed him down and straddled him, running her hands over his magnificent body, admiring his powerful, well-sculpted muscles. Her fingers tangled in his black chest hair and then drifted lower.

When she trailed kisses on his chest, licking his nipples, moving down across his flat belly, his hands wound in her hair and he groaned. She ran her tongue along his thick rod while her fingers went between his legs to cup him and stroke lightly.

Wanting him more than ever, she turned him over to trace kisses along his smooth, muscled back. Her fingers played with his firm bottom before she continued lower, her hands running over the backs of his thighs, the short black hairs tickling her palms. He rolled over, and she took him in her mouth, her tongue licking him with slow deliberation.

With a groan he moved away. She watched him pick up his trousers and remove a condom. Unable to let him go, she stood and wrapped herself around him, pressing against his backside while her hands played with him and she kissed his nape.

He turned to pick her up and carry her back to the rug in front of the fire. As soon as he put her down, her hips shifted with need. She desired him desperately and held out her arms, sitting up to pull him to her.

“Come here. I want you,” she said, showering kisses on him, letting her hands roam over him. When she spread her legs, he moved between them, pausing to put on the condom, then he lowered himself, entering her.

She cried out, arching to meet him, moving wildly.
She wrapped her long legs and her arms around him. Plunging deeply, his thick rod pulsed in her.

Gyrating in an age-old dance, Tom slowed, withdrawing as she gasped. “Tom, love me!” she cried.

Her hands clutched his bottom, and her legs tightened around him. Arching her back, she tried to pull him closer.

He thrust slowly into her again, an exquisite torment that drew out pleasure until she thought she would dissolve. She knew from his movements when his control was gone. He made love with her, ramming hard and fast, making her writhe in abandon.

As tension built, her world was only Tom. Lights behind her eyelids blinded her, and the sounds in her ears roared, shutting out all other noise.

Clinging to him tightly, she spasmed with release, pressing against him as rapture spilled over her. Tom plunged into her again and cried out, a deep primordial cry of need. He called her name, but she could barely hear him for her hammering pulse.

As they clung tightly to each other, their rhythm ebbed and they both tried to catch their breath.

His breathing was as ragged as hers, and she could feel their hearts beating in unison. Tom turned to brush light kisses on her temple.

Holding her against his heart, Tom rolled onto his side, taking her with him. He shifted so he could look at her while he combed damp locks away from her face. “You're fantastic,” he said.

“I could say the same,” she answered in euphoria, brushing feathery kisses on him in return, still running her hands over him and relishing his hard muscles and his body given to her to enjoy.

“I've thought about you constantly,” he admitted, and she looked at him in surprise.

“Go on!” she exclaimed. “I don't believe you!”

“It's true. Why would I make up a thing like that?”

“To sweet-talk me into more seduction,” she said, smiling at him. She moved against him sensuously in a slow shift of her body.

“You little witch! Give me some rest,” he said.

She laughed. “As if you gave me any in the past hour.”

He kissed her, a binding kiss that sealed their union and proclaimed how good things were between them.

“I don't think I can stand,” he said. “You've demolished me.”

“Stop complaining,” she replied. “You loved every passionate second of it, and before I know it, you'll be trying to get me to do the same things to you all over again.”

“Sure, I will. I hope I can talk you into doing them over and over all night long.” He framed her face with his hands. “You'll never know how much I've wanted you,” he said in a deep, gravelly voice.

“And after the past hour, don't you think I desired you equally as much?”

“Couldn't possibly,” he said. “You can't imagine the way I need you in my arms, in my bed.”

“Instead here we are on my floor. Thank goodness I have privacy out here.”

He grinned and stood, then bent down to pick her up.

“Tom! If we're going to the bedroom, I can walk.” Ignoring her protest, he scooped her into his arms easily and headed toward her bedroom. He let her switch on a light, then he carried her into the big bathroom, where he set her on her feet while he filled the marble tub with steaming water.

Rose added bath oil and lit some tall candles. Tom climbed in and took her hand to help her, and she sat between his legs, settling her back against him. “This is the way a bath should be taken,” she said, running her fingers along his thigh, feeling the short hairs on his legs.

He soaped her leisurely, the textured washcloth an erotic roughness on her breasts. Then his fingers went between her legs to touch her. He wrapped his legs around hers, spreading her legs with his, giving his fingers access to her. In minutes a fire rekindled in her as if she hadn't been satisfied only a short time before.

She twisted around to slide over him. He was hard and ready, hungry for her. When she leaned close to kiss him, her breasts rubbed his chest. Soon she pulled away from the kiss and settled on his thick, hard rod, closing her eyes.

She moved her hips, pumping while his hips rose. Her hands played with his nipples and she tilted her head back, closing her eyes, savoring the feelings once again.

His hands toyed with her breasts. His skin was like hers, hot, wet and slippery, water gleaming on his brawny muscles. He thrust forcefully, crying her name. “Rose, Rose.”

She came, release bringing ecstasy again, and she felt him achieve his climax. He gave a throaty growl before enveloping her in his hug.

Satiated and exhausted, she fell on him, draping her arms over his shoulders and kissing the corner of his mouth. He turned his head to give her another one of those satisfied kisses that proclaimed she was his woman.

They finished bathing, dried and went to bed wrapped in each other's arms. They made love again, showering together afterward.

Finally at half past four she ran her fingers along his jaw, feeling the stubble. “You better get up and go home. My daddy is old-fashioned, and if you stay until morning, we might find our lives really complicated.”

“All right,” Tom said, rolling out of bed. Stretching leisurely, she slipped on a robe, then followed him to the living area, where she watched him dress, cherishing every moment and knowing what she needed to do. She accompanied him to the back door.