JAKrentz - The Pirate, The Adventurer, & The Cowboy (66 page)

«
^
»

M
argaret found sleep impossible. She tossed and turned, listening to the small night sounds that drifted through her window. Her mind was not cluttered with the bright images of the successful party or thoughts of her father and his new love. She wasn't thinking about any of the many things that could have been keeping her awake.

All she could think about was Julie Cassidy's remark concerning Rafe having overcome his hawklike pride in order to find a way to get Margaret back.

The notion of Rafe Cassidy lowering his pride for a woman was literally stunning.

Margaret stared up at the ceiling and realized she had never considered the events of the past few days in those terms. She had felt manipulated at first and there was no denying that to a great extent she had been.

But what had it cost Rafe to admit to himself and everyone else that he wanted her back?

She thought of all the times during those first few months after the disaster when she had almost picked up the phone and called him. Her own pride had stood in her way every time. She had nothing for which to apologize, she kept telling herself. She had done nothing wrong. She had tried to explain her side of the situation to Rafe and he had flatly refused to listen.

And then he had said terrible things to her, things that still had the power to make her weep if she summoned them to the surface of her consciousness.

No, she could never have made the call begging him to take her back and give her another chance. It would have meant sacrificing all of her pride and her sense of self-worth. Any man who required such an act of contrition was not worth having.

But it was a novelty to think that in some fashion Rafe's apparently high-handed actions lately bespoke a lowering of his own pride. Margaret realized she had never thought of it in that light.

It was true he had not actually admitted that he had been wrong last year. Other than to apologize grudgingly for his rough treatment of her, he had basically stuck to his belief that she was the one who was guilty of betrayal; the one who required forgiveness.

But there was also no denying that he was the one who had finally found a way to get them back together.

Of course, Margaret told herself, somewhat amused, being Rafe, he had found a way to do it that had not required an abject plea from him. Nevertheless, he had done it. They were back together, at least for now, and Rafe was talking about marriage as seriously as ever.

What's more, he really did seem to have changed. He was definitely making an effort to limit his attention to business. The Rafe she had seen so far this week was a different man than the one she had known last year in that respect. The old Rafe would never have taken the time to get so completely involved in organizing his mother's engagement party. Nor would he have spent as much time entertaining a recalcitrant lover.

Lover.

The word hovered in Margaret's mind. Whatever else he was, Rafe was indisputably the lover of her dreams.

She had missed being with him last night. She and Bev had sat up talking until very late and then retired. Margaret had toyed with the notion of waiting until the lights were out and then gliding across the patio to Rafe's room. But when she had finally glanced out into the darkness she had seen the two familiar figures splashing softly in the pool and quickly changed her mind. Her father and Bev had already commandeered the patio for a late-night tryst.

But tonight the patio was empty. Margaret pushed back the sheet and got out of bed. A glance across the patio showed that Rafe's room was dark. She smiled to herself as she imagined Rafe's reaction if she were to go to his bedroom and awaken him.

In her mind she visualized him sleeping nude in the snowy sheets. He would be on his stomach, his strong, broad shoulders beautifully contoured with moonlight. When he became aware of her presence he would roll onto his back, reach up and pull her down on top of him. He would become hard with arousal almost instantly, the way he always did when he sensed she wanted him. And she would ache with the familiar longing.

Margaret hesitated no longer. She put on the new gauzy cotton dress she had purchased while shopping with Bev and slid her feet into a pair of sandals. Then she went out into the night.

When she reached the other side of the patio it took her a few seconds to realize that Rafe was not in his room. She let herself inside and saw that the bed had never been turned down. Curious, she walked through into the hall.

The eerie glow under the study door caught her eye at once. An odd sense of guilt shafted through her. The poor man, she thought suddenly. Was this how he was accomplishing the job of proving he could love her and run a business at the same time? Had he been working nights ever since she got here?

She crossed the hall on silent feet and opened the door. The otherworldly light of the computer screen was the only illumination in the room. Rafe was bathed in it as he lounged in his chair, his booted feet propped on his desk. He had not changed since the party but his shirt was unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His dark hair was tousled.

There was a file lying on the desk in front of him and a spreadsheet on the computer screen. He turned his head as he heard the door open softly. In the electronic glow the hard lines of his face seemed grimmer than usual.

Margaret lounged in the doorway and smiled. "I know you think I'm a demanding woman, but I'm not this demanding. Honest."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rafe casually closed the file in front of him and dropped it into a drawer.

"Just that when I said I wanted our relationship to get a little more attention than your work, I didn't mean you had to resort to sneaking around in the middle of the night in order to spend some time on the job. I do understand the realities of normal business, Rafe. I worked in that world for several years, remember?"

Rafe's mouth curved faintly. "Believe me, Maggie, love, our relationship has had my full attention lately. This—" he gestured at the computer screen "—was just something Hatcher wanted me to look at. I didn't feel like sleeping yet so I thought I'd take care of it tonight." He swung his feet to the floor and punched a couple of keys on the computer. He stood up as the screen went blank. "How did you find me?"

Margaret smiled into the shadows as he walked toward her. "I refuse to answer that on the grounds that you'll think I'm fast."

His laugh was soft and sexy in the darkness. "As far as I'm concerned, you could never be too fast for me, lady, not as long as I'm the one you're chasing." He stopped in front of her and drew a finger down the side of her throat to the curve of her shoulder. He smiled knowingly as he felt her answering shiver of awareness. "You went to my bedroom, didn't you?"

"Uh-huh. You weren't there."

"So you went looking. Good. That's the way it should be." He kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose and then brushed his mouth across hers. His voice deepened abruptly. "Promise me you'll always come looking for me. No matter what happens. Don't run away from me again, Maggie, love."

She touched the side of his cheek. "Not even if you send me away?"

"I was a fool. I won't make that mistake again. I learned my lesson the hard way. Promise me, Maggie. Swear it. Say you won't leave even if things get rough between us again. Fight with me, yell at me, slam a few doors, kick me in the rear, but don't leave."

She caught her breath and then, in a soft, reckless little rush she gave him the words he wanted to hear. "I won't leave."

He groaned thickly and gathered her so tightly against him that Maggie could hardly breathe. She didn't mind. She felt his lips in her hair and then his fingers were moving up her back to the nape of her neck and into her loosened hair.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and inhaled the sensual, masculine scent of him. She kissed his chest where the black shirt was open and felt him shudder.

"Maggie, love, you feel so good."

Rafe moved backward a couple of steps and sank down into his chair. He eased Maggie up against the desk in front of him until she could feel the wooden edge along the backs of her thighs. His hands went to her legs.

"Rafe, wait, we can't. Not here, like this." She stifled a tiny laugh that was part anxiety at the thought of getting caught making love in his study and part joyous arousal.

"Why not here?"

"What if someone hears us?"

"What if they do?" He pushed the gauzy cotton hem of the dress up above her knees. Then he deliberately parted her legs with his hands and kissed the sensitive skin of her upper thigh. "Anyone with half a brain who might happen to overhear us should have enough sense to ignore us."

"Yes, but." Maggie shivered delicately as she felt his mouth on the inside of her leg. His hands had lifted the skirt of the dress up to her waist. She heard him laugh softly as he realized she was naked under the cotton shift.

"Ah, Maggie, love, I see you dressed for the occasion."

"You're a lecherous rake, Rafe Cassidy."

"No ma'am, just a simple cowboy with simple tastes. There's nothing I like better than taking a moonlight ride with you."

"A moonlight ride? Is that what you call it?"

"Yeah. You know something? I like you best when you're stark naked." He leaned forward again in the chair and dipped his tongue into the small depression in her stomach. Then his lips worked their way downward into the tight curls below her waist.

"Rafe.
Rafe
." Maggie's hands clenched his shoulders. She felt unbelievably wanton and gloriously sexy as she stood there in front of him legs braced apart by his strong hands. Her head was tipped back, her hair cascading behind her. She closed her eyes as his kisses became overwhelmingly intimate.

"So good. Sweet and sexy and so hot already." Rafe eased a finger into her.

Margaret tightened instantly and cried out softly. She could hardly stand now. She leaned back against the desk, letting it support her weight. Rafe's fingers stretched her gently and she dug her nails into his shoulders.

"That's it, Maggie, love. Let me know how it feels. Tell me, sweetheart."

"You already know what you can do to me," she whispered in between gasps of pleasure.

"Yeah, but I like to hear about it." His eyes gleamed in the darkness as he looked up into her face.

"Why?"

"You know why. It makes me crazy."

She half laughed and half groaned and tangled her fingers in his hair. "You make
me
go crazy, Rafe. Absolutely wild. I don't even feel like myself when you touch me like this."

"Good." He stood up slowly, his hands gliding along her hips and then her waist and above her breasts. He carried the cotton dress along with the movement, lifting it up over her head. When it was free, he tossed it heedlessly onto the floor.

Margaret had one last burst of sanity. "Your room. Just across the hall. We can…"

"No. I like you just fine where you are." He stood between her legs and lifted her up so that she was sitting on the desk. She reached back to brace herself with her hands as his mouth moved on her shoulders and traveled down to her swollen breasts.

Rafe's fingers went to the waistband of his pants. A moment later Margaret heard the rasp of his zipper.

"Aren't you going to at least take off your boots?" Margaret demanded in a husky whisper.

"No need. This'll work just fine."

She look down and saw that it would work just fine. "But what about…about the protection you always use?"

"Got it right here." He reached into his back pocket.

Margaret heard the soft sound of the little packet being opened. "You carry that on you?" she gasped.

"Every minute since the day you arrived. I want to be able to make love to you anywhere, anytime."

"Good heavens, Rafe." She giggled, feeling more daring and wanton than ever. "Isn't there something a bit scandalous about doing it like this—on top of a desk? With your boots on?"

"This is my office, let me run the show, okay?" He caught one nipple lightly between his teeth.

Margaret inhaled sharply. "Yes. By all means, go ahead. Run the show. Please." She sighed in surrender and ceased worrying about decorum.

Rafe eased her down until she lay across the desk in a blatantly sensual pose. Her legs hung over the edge, open and inviting. She shuddered as he moved closer.

Margaret looked up through slitted eyes as Rafe probed her tenderly with his thumbs and then slowly fitted himself to her. She felt the excitement pounding in her veins and wondered at the magic between them. It was always like this. When Rafe made love to her he took her into a different world, one where she was wild and free and deliriously uninhibited—one where she knew she was temporarily, at least, the center of his universe.

Margaret clutched at Rafe as he surged slowly, deeply into her. She tightened her legs around him as he braced himself above her, his hands planted flat on either side of her.

"Maggie, love.
Maggie
. You're so sweet and tight and, oh, sweetheart I do love the feel of you. Incredible."