High-Stakes Passion (13 page)

And she needed him.

He palmed her breasts and sucked each nipple in turn before kissing his way back to her mouth. His lips journeyed frantically down her neck to her breasts again, but soon returned to devour her mouth with a low groan.

With her help, he pulled her jeans off. Audrey held him close and returned his kisses.

Mark freed his rigid member and pushed into her. He couldn't begin to fathom the depths of the longing that threatened to swallow him. He simply let it wash over him as he buried his face in her neck, pumped into her and whispered her name over and over.

With her legs wrapped around him, her hand running through his hair and her scent permeating his nostrils, he was surrounded by Audrey and her love. Keeping the world at bay, he was safe for one moment. For one moment, as his body tightened and his passion spilled out, he couldn't think. He could only feel…soft, safe, free, good, whole, loved.

S
he loved him. Audrey had said she loved him, Mark Malone. The thought consumed him. She knew the worst of it, and she loved him anyway. She had cried. No woman had ever cried for him.

He rode out to the north pasture, but he knew he wouldn't get any work done today. Devon was leaving, and Mark wished he'd taken the day off and gone with Audrey to take him home. That way, he'd have her all to himself on the plane ride home.

If he hurried, he could still make it. He turned Lone Star around and galloped him home.

When he came into the kitchen, she wasn't there. He stopped in the dining room and saw her standing at the open front door, surrounded by suitcases. Too many just for Devon.

She hugged her nephew and sent him off with Dalt to say goodbye to the pony.

As Mark watched her, his scarred heart took a tumble off a bucking bronc, and the hard shell he'd built around it cracked like the bones he'd broken in his rodeo days. She couldn't leave him now.

He wanted to hold her. After only a few hours, he missed the feel of her in his arms. But he wanted more. He wanted to hear her say she loved him again. Every day. And he wanted to tell her he loved her, too.

Where had that come from? He loved her?

Did he?

Yes, a tiny voice whispered. And he knew it was true.

He watched Audrey wave her nephew off and step away from the front door. “Mr. Burke! What are you doing here?”

Mr. Burke? Who the hell was Mr. Burke?

A hefty man in an expensive suit pushed his way past Audrey and strutted in, looking around. “So this is the
Lone Cowboy
's house, huh? You better have a good story for the magazine after all this time.”

The word
magazine
echoed and pounded into Mark's brain. Something snapped inside him. His chest constricted and he couldn't breathe. She was a reporter?
All she'd ever wanted was a story?
What a fool he'd been, thinking Audrey was different! His stomach cramped. He couldn't see. Must be sweat—it sure as hell wasn't tears—in his eyes.

How she must've been laughing her butt off these past weeks. The pitiful drunk who fell for the little schemer.

“About the article,” Audrey began as she closed the front door. She turned to face the pompous man, looked past his shoulder and met Mark's eyes. “Oh, no!”

If she didn't get out of here right now, Mark was going to wrap his hands around her lying neck and strangle her. “Get out!” he yelled. “Both of you! Now!”

Audrey came toward him, her hand outstretched. “Oh, Mark. It's not what you think. Please let me explain. I…I never meant to hurt anyone.”

She lifted her hand as if she might touch his arm.

He flinched and jerked away. “Don't.”

She was so convincing in her apologetic role. She'd probably rehearsed in case she got caught.

He crossed his arms, making sure he stared at her full-figured hips. “We both got what we wanted.”

Audrey recoiled as if she'd been physically slapped, and all the color drained from her face. She swayed as if she might faint, staggering to catch herself.

“Now get out!” Mark yelled.

She didn't even look to see if the man followed her when she raced out the front door, choking on a sob.

Burke—Audrey's boss, he assumed—stared at him.

Mark's fist curled and he took a step toward him.

The man snapped into motion and followed Audrey out.

Mark slammed the door, wiped his eyes and staggered to the recliner. Everything hurt. He dropped to the edge of the chair, doubled over with the pain. He couldn't catch a breath.

Just thinking about his private life being plastered all over the front page of some tabloid made him want a drink. Mark had to warn his brother. And, hell, he'd have to talk to his mother, too. Once the story broke, more reporters would come snooping around.

His mother would enjoy that. She and Audrey ought to get together and compare notes. Start a consulting business on how to be a deceitful shrew.

Maybe he'd sell this ranch, after all. Move to a different state. But first, he had to do what he'd sworn he would never do.

Go home.

 

Danny was home, and over the infection. He and Claire were glad to see Devon again, and there were hugs of greeting all around. But Audrey didn't stay long. Telling them she was exhausted, she kissed them all goodbye and drove to her apartment.

She was resigned to whatever her fate might be with the magazine. Her heart was breaking. What was her career compared to that?

Though she'd known it would end eventually, she'd savored the fantasy. Her last night at the Double M had been the sweetest torment. Being in Mark's arms, loving him one last time. They'd clung to each other for a while and then gotten dressed. He'd walked her to her car and driven her back to the ranch, all without saying a word.

She hadn't expected him to return her love. But she hated that he'd discovered her deceit. Now he'd never believe she loved him. A stab of pain hit her heart at that thought.

The next morning, she began her new job dispensing advice to troubled lovers. What a joke. For the first time in her life, Audrey lost her appetite. As diets go, this had to be the most excruciating way to lose weight. Over the next couple of weeks, she had to force herself to eat. Not even chocolate could coax her into caring about her life.

It took all her emotional strength just to wake up and face each day. All she wanted to do was curl up on her couch and stay blessedly numb. She'd come so close to a dream she'd never hoped to live, and deceived a man who had been betrayed once too often.

 

“Come on, Aud,” Miranda cajoled, sitting next to her sister on the couch. “Let's go shopping. Claire's in-laws are in town to watch Devon, and I need a new suit.”

After two weeks of her moping around, Audrey's sisters had shown up, determined to coax her out of the blues.

“Audrey, you're pale, you have dark circles under your eyes and your hair looks like a rat's nest. Now get off your butt and take a shower. You're coming with us!”

Three hours and three makeovers later, the sisters sat down in the mall for some frozen yogurt.

“Now.” Claire looked determined as she scooped up her yogurt. “Tell us what happened. What happened with the story? Did you get it or not?”

Audrey opened her mouth, but no words would come. How to explain? She realized she'd never shared her feelings with her sisters, believing it was her job to listen and advise, not burden them with her insecurities. Perhaps she wouldn't be in this mess if she'd gone to them in the first place. In that moment, her perception shifted and so did their relationship. She wasn't alone.

“Come on, Audrey. Spill it,” Miranda said.

Claire grasped her shoulder, her brows furrowed in concern. “We're really worried about you.”

Audrey shook her head. She was so ashamed. “I've ruined everything!” The look on her sisters' faces changed from concern to disbelief as she told them what she'd done.

Claire put her hand over Audrey's. “You love the cowboy?”

Audrey nodded.

Miranda spoke up. “You should be glad you're rid of that redneck. He'd only end up hurting you. Believe me!”

Audrey exchanged a shocked look with Claire. She turned to Miranda, frowning. “Randa, has something happened between you and Ron?”

Miranda sat back in her chair. “Never mind, Aud. I just don't like seeing you so upset. If you're so miserable, you
should at least print the story you wrote and get something from the experience.”

Audrey let the subject of Miranda's boyfriend go for now. She nodded, thinking about what she'd written. “I should apologize.” She straightened in her chair. “I wonder if he'd see it….” she mumbled. She'd send a copy to John and Helen.

“What?” Claire asked.

“The story of how I deceived a good man,” she answered, warming to the idea. It beat lying around feeling sorry for herself.

Mr. Burke might just go for a story about her experience undercover.

Miranda protested, “Audrey, you don't have to do that. Don't humiliate yourself that way.”

Much as she appreciated Randa's concern, her sister didn't understand. This was not a pathetic attempt to gain a man's attention. “I'm not doing it for him. I'm doing it for me. I need to regain my honor. I was so desperate for…I don't know, something significant in my life, I convinced myself that the end justified the means.” For the first time in two weeks, Audrey smiled, feeling a paradigm shift in her self-esteem. “I'm going to do what I should have done all along.” She swallowed a bite of frozen yogurt. “Be myself.”

When Audrey talked to Mr. Burke the next day, he gladly agreed. As a publicity stunt, it couldn't be beat.

The following week, Audrey hunched over her laptop around the clock. If she hadn't been writing on a PC, her bedroom would have been filled with thousands of crumpled pieces of paper. Considering she aspired to be a writer, one would think a story this personal would be child's play. But every attempt was deleted. Somehow, the words didn't
sound right. They just weren't magic enough to convey her feelings.

Maybe mere words couldn't. Maybe she needed action.

 

“You seen this month's copy of
Dallas Today?
” John shoved the magazine under Mark's nose.

Mark was eating cold soup from a can while he watched the late news. It was after ten, and he'd just gotten in from the barn, where he'd been checking tack.

How many weeks, or months even, would it take for him to forget her? In every room in the house, Mark saw her. He woke in the middle of the night hot and hard, missing Audrey's soft breasts cushioning his head, aching for her touch—if he managed to sleep at all. He lay for hours envisioning the love in her eyes and the heat in her kisses. How could she have faked that kind of passion? It had felt so real, so strong.

What he should do was find another woman. A brunette. Maybe then he could forget.

His mood reflected the lack of sleep, and the hours of frustration. He impatiently barked out orders, working later and later each day. He knew he'd put off seeing his mom. He should've gone weeks ago, but just thinking about it made his stomach ache. He shoved the magazine back without looking. “How bad is it?”

“Oh, I think you'll wanna read this for yourself.” John tossed the magazine in Mark's lap.

Well, damn. Had he really hoped she might have a scrap of principle? He should've been surprised it'd taken this long for the story to come out.

Mark forced his eyes open and read the caption:
Big Brothers to Benefit from Reporter's Blunder.

“What the hell? What is this, John?”

John had a smug smirk on his face. “Read it.”

The article went on to give information on the date, place and time of the benefit.

Mark sat in stunned silence, disgusted with himself because all he could do at first was picture Audrey in a wet T-shirt, her nipples hard from the cold water. He was gonna need another cold shower tonight. “Damn it, she probably planned it that way.”

“Of course she did. The question is, what are you going do about it?”

Mark jerked his gaze to John. “Nothing! She's not going to make a fool of me twice.”

“Fool? She's tryin' to apologize.”

Mark frowned at the magazine in his lap. “She's probably hoping I'll show up so she can have another story.”

“You
are
a fool if you think that. She told Helen right before Keith came that she'd decided not to write a story about you, even if it meant losing her job.”

Mark stood, ignoring the spark of hope those words had ignited and concentrating on John's betrayal. “You knew who she was? Why didn't you tell me?”

“Don't get your balls in a brace. Helen just told me last week. She thought it best not to interfere. She hoped, in time— Well, it doesn't matter now.”

“I can understand how Audrey had you two suckered. It's myself I'm disgusted with. I knew better than to believe any woman could lo—” He stopped.

John finished his sentence. “Could love you? Don't you think it's possible she really does?”

Mark remembered Audrey whispering her love for him that first time, boldly proclaiming it the next. His chest constricted, and fury welled up in him.

He fought to keep his features blank. “I can do without her kind of love.”

“Not all women are like your mother, Mark,” John persisted.

Mark looked at the floor and hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “Maybe.”

John folded his arms across his chest. “You've survived bulls and broncs, broken bones, a busted leg and booze. Don't you think you could handle the love of a good woman?”

Mark snorted. “There's no such thing. Not nowadays.”