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Authors: Jackie Merritt

BOOK: Hired Bride
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Zane's immediate response to her challenging question was a short laugh, followed by, “Why does any man think of a particular woman?”

“Hormones?” she said dryly.

“Well, yes, I suppose so,” Zane said slowly. “But that's not the extent of it with us. I mean, our relationship didn't start with my chasing you around the house, or vice versa.”

“No, it started with my chasing Alamo around the house.” Looking into his eyes across the table, she took a bite of her sandwich. Her expression was still challenging. After swallowing, she said, “It actually started with your hiring me to play a dirty trick on your family.”

“I was only trying to protect myself from some heavy-duty matchmaking. It worked too.”

“Maybe a little too well. I think your family likes me.”

“I think the same thing. Does that make you uncomfortable?”

“It makes me feel like a sneak and a liar, because I like them too. Do you want to know the real truth? I wish I had turned you down that day.” She sighed, narrowed her eyes a bit, then added, “But I didn't, and if that had been the end of it I might not feel so darn guilty. But that wasn't the end of it, and I'm still deceiving some very nice people. So are you. Doesn't that bother you?”

Zane continued eating, but he was also thinking. “I don't believe we did any deceiving today,” he finally stated. “In fact, I think our little deception really only
lasted for one day—for Parker and Hannah's wedding.”

“Are you deliberately being obtuse? Zane, Vanessa wants me to be her friend, and Lily issued an open invitation for me and the kids to visit the ranch. They honestly believe that you and I…that we are…” She stopped to clear her throat.

Zane jumped in. “Are you trying to say that they believe we're lovers?” He set down his fork.

Gwen flushed, but she kept her gaze steady. “Oh, they definitely believe that. Actually, it wouldn't surprise me if they thought our relationship was—” it was a hard word to say, but she got it out “—serious.”

Frowning slightly, Zane sat back and looked at her. Before he could formulate a reply that made any sense, however, she started talking again.

“And it never could be anything more than it is right now. In fact, I can't help wondering how things even got this far when we're so different from each other. We live in different worlds, and if there are any similarities in our personalities I've yet to find them. So I guess that takes me back to my original question. Why do you think of me at all?”

“Are you saying you never think of me? Not in any context?”

“Would it shatter your ego if I said no?”

Frustration suddenly creased Zane's forehead. “You're damn good at evasion.”

“And you're not?”

“Okay. You want an answer? Here it is.” Getting up, Zane walked around the table, ignored the startled look on her face, took her hand and brought her to her feet. “Try this on for size,” he whispered as his arms went around her and his mouth covered hers.

Gwen's head was instantly spinning. Obviously her resistance to Zane's kisses was nil, because, as before, within two heartbeats she was kissing him back. She had to wonder if she had intentionally provoked him into making another pass, if maybe she'd been waiting all day for this chance. It wasn't a happy thought, but maybe she was a little more deceptive than she cared to admit.

When he broke the kiss for a breath of air and then kissed her again, she stopped thinking entirely. Her heart was pounding, her blood racing, and the heat radiating from each of them would warm her small house on a winter night. Her arms went up around his neck, and his hands slid down her back to cup her buttocks and bring her closer to the fire in his loins.

“Gwen…sweetheart,” he whispered raggedly before claiming yet another kiss.

She was totally gone and didn't care. Her kisses had become as hungry as his, her hands every bit as bold. He unbuttoned her blouse and buried his face between her breasts, and she yanked the bottom of his shirt from his jeans and slid her hands up his chest.

For one second they looked into each other's eyes, and what they both wanted was so apparent, no discussion was necessary.

“Your bedroom?” Zane whispered.

“Yes.”

He bent slightly, picked her up and carried her from the kitchen. She hugged his neck and pressed kisses to the throbbing pulse beat in his throat. “The room at the end of the hall,” she whispered thickly as he strode through the living room.

In her bedroom he let her feet slide to the floor. Shakily she shut the door, and when she turned around
he was already undressing. Her breath caught in her throat. He glowed with good looks and vitality. Truly he was the most handsome man she'd ever seen, and deep in her soul she knew that what she was about to do was a result of love. She could never hope for him to love her in the same way, but maybe a woman in her situation had to take any happiness fate handed out, and not worry about tomorrow.

It seemed to be a sensible philosophy, and she quickly began shedding her own clothes. Zane got naked first, and he turned down the bed and lay watching her finish up. The sensuality of his eyes on her while she undressed brought Gwen's desire to a fever pitch, and when she slid down her panties and felt his hot gaze devouring her, she became emotional enough to cry.

Blinking back tears, she crawled into bed and snuggled into his arms. “My darling,” he whispered. She soaked up his endearment like a thirsty sponge and started pressing kisses to his chest. Her hand, seemingly of its own accord, went directly to his arousal. She felt driven to touch and caress him intimately, and she could tell how strongly it affected him.

Almost roughly he pushed her onto her back and lay on top of her. His kisses fell all over her face and then his mouth opened on hers. His tongue teased hers until she was moaning, and she opened her legs wider, all but begging for the final act.

“I have protection,” he whispered, and reached over the edge of the bed for his wallet.

“Glad you thought of it,” she mumbled while he put on a condom. As easily as she got pregnant,
she
should have thought of it.

But she hadn't. Her mind was full of him and the
pleasure he was already giving her, and her body was aching for the rest of it. Aching for those few deliciously explosive moments that ultimately resulted in a sensation of utter peace.

“Zane…oh, Zane,” she said hoarsely when he entered her and began moving within her. “It's so good…so good.”

“It's better than good, darlin'.”

“Yes…better…than good,” she moaned. She had never before felt one-tenth of what she was feeling with Zane. Never before had every single cell in her body caught fire, and never before had she wanted and yearned and ached with such desperation.

Try as she might, she could not remain silent. If she woke the kids she would never forgive herself, but the sounds coming from her own throat were unstoppable. Her fingertips dug into Zane's back, and she writhed beneath him, raising and lowering her hips to match his rhythm.

Zane was almost crazed by her response. Never had he made love to a more passionate woman. He'd suspected her ardor because of the theater incident, but to actually feel it, to be the recipient of it, was making him wild. Everything fled his mind but the building pleasure. Every thrust into her feverish body brought him a step closer to the final inferno. It astonished him that she had become almost an extension of his own body. They moved as one; they were a perfect match, a perfect fit.

And to make it even more perfect, they climaxed at exactly the same moment. Stunned and totally sated, he collapsed on her.

Neither of them moved so much as a finger for a very long time.

Eleven

G
wen was so exhausted that when Zane put his arms around her and turned her back to him, she immediately fell asleep. Laying on her side, snuggled with her back to his chest, she didn't know that he tenderly kissed her temple and shoulder, or that he lay there holding her for a long time while he relived the incredible passion they had just shared.

Then he thought of Gwen's kids, and how hard she worked to support them, and that she had sat in the Emergency Room with Ashley for hours and not once complained to anyone. His admiration for her was enormous. He'd never met another woman to compare. Certainly none of the beauties he was accustomed to escorting around town could measure up.

Was he finally falling in love? He frowned. Did he
want
to fall in love?

Uneasily he stretched a leg. Did a man have any say in the matter? Did love just land on a person like a ton of bricks and knock him for a loop, or was it possible to be in love and still maintain control of one's life?

Most people he knew that had fallen in love eventually got married. Were he and Gwen headed for the altar? Was he ready to exchange his free and easy bachelor status for the rank of husband and father? Any man that married a woman with children was at
least a stepfather, and if she was a widow, her new husband would be her children's
only
father.

This was a hell of a dilemma, wasn't it? He wanted Gwen more than he'd ever wanted any woman, but did he also want marriage and a ready-made family?

His strength was returning, and holding Gwen's warm naked body was making his own react again. He knew she was tired and he didn't want to wake her, but he couldn't resist running his hand over her smooth skin. Touching her excited him to arousal, and while he tried to keep his breathing at a normal level, even though his heart had sped up, he slowly slid his hand down her belly to that thrilling place between her thighs.

Very gently he moved her legs apart. Closing his eyes then to savor this incredibly sexual moment he started exploring.
Ah, there is nothing like a woman's body.
He loved the feel of her, the uniquely female contours and textures. Though sleeping soundly, she became wet under his fingers, and when he began manipulating the very core of her femininity, she moved against his finger.

Yes, indeed, sweetheart, you are one very hot lady.
Her involuntary response pleased him immensely, and it also made
him
hot, much too hot to lie there. Moving cautiously so he wouldn't startle her, he slid his hard, erect member into her from behind.

“My love,” he whispered as emotion swelled within him.

Gwen was in the middle of the most fabulous dream. She was being made love to by a man who knew exactly how to pleasure a woman. His hand was right where it should be, stroking, gently stroking, and
he filled her again and again with his very hard, very large, positively marvelous manhood.

She whimpered and wriggled in dream-like delight as the thrills compounded. Zane was amazed that she didn't wake up…or was she merely pretending to still be asleep? He stopped moving and waited a few moments to see what she would do, and all she did was sigh as though something precious had just been taken from her.

She was definitely sleeping, and he was so charmed by her that he whispered, “Maybe I am in love with you, you adorable woman.” He began moving again, taking it easy, going slow and enjoying every feverish second of this furtive lovemaking. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before; it was a brand-new experience, and he loved it. He wondered, though, if she would wake up before it was over.

But because he was in no hurry, it went on and on, and so did Gwen's wonderful dream. She cried out in her sleep again and again, because she went over the edge again and again, and every time she did it, Zane's adoration of her passionate nature increased.

It was truly the most sensual experience of his life, one against which he knew he would forever measure any other sexual encounter. Finally, he could hold himself back no longer, and he gritted his teeth to keep himself from shouting at the final rush.

Too spent to even leave her body, he shut his eyes and fell asleep.

 

Gwen opened one eye and saw the nightstand clock. It read 4:10 a.m., and she could feel Zane's leg against hers. He was still here!

Turning over, she sat up, yanked the edge of the sheet around her torso and shook Zane's arm. “Zane.”

His eyelids fluttered partially open. “Hi, darlin'. What's going on?”

“It's four in the morning, and I think you should probably go. I don't want my kids seeing you in my bed.”

The slight panic in Gwen's voice and eyes made him frown. “Do they usually get up at four?”

“I never know when one of them will come wandering in. I'm surprised it hasn't already happened. Come on, Zane, please get up and go.”

“I will…I will,” he said with a touch of early morning grouchiness. Then his entire mood changed—she was pretty darn cute in that sheet, with her hair all mussed—and he grinned. “Four is still awfully early. Why don't you move over here and share that sheet with me?”

“No. I shouldn't have done it the first time.” Oh, Lord, what nasty little demon had possessed her last night? How could she have been so wanton? She was a respectable, clean-living mother—a widow with morals, for heaven's sake.

Zane's frown deepened as he sensed her regret. “Why not?” he said bluntly.

“We can't talk about this now, Zane, not this morning. There's no time. I don't know what I'd tell my children if they found us naked in bed together. Please go.”

“Is it really your kids you're worried about, or yourself? I'm sensing you regret our lovemaking. I don't understand—why is lovemaking so terrible?”

Her patience was wearing a little thin. Why did he have to press the issue right now?

“It seems like you're putting all the blame for last night on me, and that's really not fair.”

She faced him squarely. “You're wrong. I wish I
wasn't
one of those fair-minded people and that I
could
say the whole awful mistake was your fault. But I'm blaming myself at least as much as I am you, probably more. But that's an entirely separate issue from the one scaring the daylights out of me now. Really, my kids can't find you here like this.

“Mistake,” Zane said softly. “So, it was just a mistake to you.” Hurt, he got out of bed and began pulling on his clothes.

Going to the closet, Gwen plucked her bathrobe from a hook on the inside of the door, slipped it on and then let the sheet fall away. Tying the sash around her waist, she turned to check Zane's progress.

He was dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed, putting on his shoes…and watching her. “You're a curious woman,” he said. “Why do you think that making love with me was a mistake?”

“Because it was,” she said flatly. “It's not going to happen again, Zane, so don't leave this house with any foolish notions.” She suddenly had the most discomfiting memory of an embarrassingly erotic dream. But it seemed so real. It
had
been only a dream, hadn't it? She wanted to question him so badly she could hardly keep her mouth shut, but if it
had
been just a dream, talking about it would be utterly humiliating.

Zane laughed softly. From the stunned, almost disoriented expression on her face, he knew that she had remembered their second session of lovemaking. Rather, she was remembering but wondering if she'd dreamed it.

Still worrying about the dream, or whatever it had
been, Gwen moved to the bedroom door. Zane walked over to the door as well, and it never dawned on her that he planned to do anything but leave.

He snaked his arm around her waist and hauled her up against himself. “Zane, don't,” she whispered.

“Zane, do,” he whispered back. He took hold of the back of her head with his free hand, and then took possession of her lips. It was a lover's kiss—hot, wet and emotional. And Gwen knew at that moment that what had seemed to be a dream was actually the sexiest, most erotic experience of her life.

When he finally stopped kissing her, she couldn't look him in the eye. “I…I'm going to…open the door now,” she stammered. “Please don't talk in the hall as we pass the…the children's bedrooms. I really don't want them waking up and seeing you.”

“You know it wasn't a dream, don't you?” he said softly.

“Yes, but please don't make me talk about it,” she whispered.

He took her chin and tipped up her face. “Gwen, you amaze me. Why does making love embarrass you so much? We're both adults, we're both free agents. And there's something happening between us. Haven't you wondered if it's something important?”

“There's nothing important happening between us, Zane, and there never will be. There's such an enormous chasm between your life and mine that we might as well be from different planets. Now, please be quiet.” She opened the door and listened.

With a disgusted shake of his head, Zane followed her into the hall. She said nothing, he said nothing, and neither of them made any other sound.

And yet, there was Donnie, standing in his bedroom doorway, looking sleepy-eyed and curious.

“Hi, Zane,” the little boy said. “Mom? Where you going?”

Gwen shot Zane a venomous told-you-so look, then hugged her son and led him back to his bed. “It's too early to get up, sweetheart,” she told Donnie as she kissed his smooth little-boy cheek. After tucking the covers around him, she returned to the hall, said not a word to Zane and preceded him to the front door.

“Go,” she said.

“Donnie seeing me is not the end of the world,” Zane said quietly.

“Please just go,” she said wearily.

“Fine. Good night.” He walked out.

 

By nine that morning Gwen had taken her shower and gotten dressed, fed the kids breakfast, and seen to their baths and clothes for the day. She'd arranged a bed on the sofa for Ashley to lie on and tuned the TV to the comical cartoon channel. Since her own activities were going to be confined to the house today because of Ashley, she decided to bake some cookies.

Her doorbell rang at ten. Quickly rinsing her hands at the kitchen sink, she dried them as she went to see who had come calling.
Not Zane. Please, not Zane.

She opened the door to her parents, and her nervousness turned to glee. “Mom, Dad! Goodness, what a nice surprise.” She received two big hugs. “Come in.”

Lillian began jabbering as she and Jack went in. “We weren't sure what Sunday School service you brought the kids to, so if you're getting ready to go, just say so.”

“We're not going this morning, Mom.”

Lillian spied Ashley on the sofa. “What happened?” she cried, and ran over to her little granddaughter.

“I fell off a horse, Grandma,” Ashley said proudly. “I have five stitches.”

“A horse!” Jack exclaimed. “What in heck were you doing on a horse?”

“I was riding it,” Ashley replied, looking a bit startled that she would have to explain something so obvious to a grown-up.

“I rode a horse too, Grandpa,” Donnie said, anxious about Grandpa Jack thinking that Ashley might have done something exciting that he hadn't. “I really like horses. I wish we lived on a ranch.”

Jack looked at his daughter. “So this horseback riding took place on a ranch?”

Gwen felt like squirming under her father's disapproving gaze, but she managed to smile and say, “Yes. How about some coffee and fresh-baked cookies? Come to the kitchen so we can talk. Kids, I'll bring you some cookies too.”

Lillian and Jack took off their lightweight jackets and sat at the kitchen table. Gwen quickly made coffee, then brought a plate of cookies to the living room. “Two apiece,” she said firmly to her children. Returning to the kitchen, she prepared another plate with cookies and set it on the table, along with small plates, cups and napkins.

“Goodness, you're a whirlwind this morning,” Lillian said. “Come and sit down.”

“I had to get things ready, Mom.” Gwen pulled out a chair from the table and sat. “The coffee will be
done in a few minutes. So,” she said, looking from one parent to the other, “how have you two been?”

“We're fine,” Jack said. “How have
you
been? Tell us about the ranch and the horses the kids rode. Whose ranch did you visit?”

“Oh, the coffee's done.” Gwen got up for the pot and filled their cups. Seated again, she cautiously sipped from hers. “Now, what were we talking about?”

“About the Fortune ranch,” Jack said sternly.

“Yes,” Gwen said slowly, realizing that her father had put two and two together. “It was the Fortune ranch. Something wrong with that, Dad?”

“Maybe. This Zane guy. How's he treating you?”

“Uh, I'm not sure what you're getting at.”

“Don't play games, Gwen. We're not in the Fortunes' class, and just what does Zane Fortune want from you?” Gwen could feel herself turn three shades of red. “Aha! I knew he was up to no good. Lil, didn't I tell you?”

“Now, Jack,” Lillian admonished. “Don't jump to any hasty conclusions. Gwen, um, has Zane Fortune become a good friend? He would be an incredible catch for a woman in your situation.”

“Mom!” Gwen exclaimed, appalled that her mother was hearing wedding bells simply because Zane was wealthy. “I have absolutely no unrealistic hopes where Zane is concerned. He's one of Help-Mate's clients, which is how we met. And yes, I've seen him a few times beyond the work I do for him. But—”

“So we understand your hopes. What about his?”

Gwen was on a very hot seat. In the first place, she didn't know any more about Zane's hopes where she was concerned than her father did. Or, in all honesty,
if Zane even had any. Last night he'd gotten what she had believed all along that he'd been wanting from her, and maybe that's all there would ever be to their relationship.

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