The Bachelor’s Surrender (16 page)

Then he heard her light, melodious laughter, and the flirtatious sound beckoned to him, awakening that lonely, aching part of him that craved this woman’s tenderness. The tide of emotion washing over him should have had him throwing up blockades, yet he welcomed the warmth, and succumbed to the need to let go of past burdens, just for tonight.

“What the hell,” he muttered. Leaving the keys in the ignition, he cranked up the radio. Then he exited the vehicle, strode toward her, and caught her in his arms, pulling their bodies intimately close. He eased into a fast-paced two-step, and she easily kept time, her sandaled feet staying in sync with his as he maneuvered her around his truck.

“Where did you learn to two-step?” he asked as the rain dampened his hair and saturated his shirt. Despite his earlier protests, he
was
having fun. “I would have thought you’d be a Waltzer.”

“Shows you just how much you need to learn about me,” she said in that impudent way of hers. “And for the record, I do know how to Waltz, which was a prerequisite for my debutante ball, but my roommate and I like to go country dancing.” Grinning with infectious enthusiasm, she said, “Twirl me, Rafe.”

He spun her around while holding her hand, then tugged her back into his embrace again and whirled them together, around and around, until she was laughing breathlessly. The rain drenched their hair and clothing, and water dripped from his nose and her chin, adding to the humorous situation.

And then it happened . . . that excruciating pressure in his chest he’d suppressed for too long broke free, and a deep rumble of laughter escaped him. The rusty chuckles mingled with Lauren’s mirth, until the sound developed the rich, male undertones he remembered from long ago.

The emotional release felt so good, so exhilarating, and he didn’t want the joyful moment to end. Didn’t want to let this incredible woman go, because she held the key to the darkest part of his soul.

The thought of his life without Lauren in it brought his feet to a sudden stop. He stared at her upturned face, her guileless smile, and his stomach pitched with so many uncertainties. He wanted her so badly he ached with the need, yet he had nothing to offer her beyond this one night.

The music played on and the rain continued to fall in a light drizzle as they stood there for what could have been minutes, or hours, he couldn’t be sure. Lifting his hand, he pushed wet strands of hair off her face, intending to let her go after that brief brush of his fingertips along her silky skin. Except one caress led to another, and then touching her was no longer enough. And when she closed her eyes and her body trembled against his, he lost all sense of time or reason.

Delving his hands into her hair, he tilted her head back and kissed her, tasting the rain on her lips and reveling in the way her mouth opened for a deeper union. He stroked his tongue along hers, hot and eager, and felt fire lick through him. With a helpless groan, he gathered her in his arms, holding her tight, and she slipped her arms around his neck to get closer still.

Her breasts swelled and strained against his chest, and a soft, mewling sound slipped from her throat. Passion rose swiftly, and neither one of them denied the torrent of sensations that had been building between them the past week.

The rain should have cooled them down, but he was burning up with a fever that began and ended with Lauren. His hands roamed restlessly down her back, and the desperate kiss he gave her spoke the words he couldn’t bring himself to say.
I want to make love to you.

Her uninhibited response and soft moan of acquiescence gave him the answer he sought.
Yes
.

Reluctantly, he lifted his mouth from hers, ending the kiss. No words were necessary, and none were spoken as he shut down the truck and retrieved his keys, then took her hand and together they dashed toward the porch and into the house. He didn’t stop until they were in his darkened bedroom, and only then did he give her time to change her mind.

“We’re dripping all over the floor,” she whispered after a long, silent moment passed.

He heard the tremor of nervousness in her voice, a touch of vulnerability he understood because he felt it, too. But there was nothing to indicate a change of heart on her part, and he felt at once relieved and very anxious to feel her bare skin against his.

“Maybe we should take off our wet clothes,” he suggested huskily, and slowly undid the first three buttons down the front of her damp dress, his need for her running hot and molten through his veins. His fingers stroked over the soft, flawless skin he revealed, then he smoothed his flattened palm inside the opening, seeking the warm, resilient flesh of her breast.

She caught his wrist and stopped him before he reached his goal. Beneath his hand, her heart beat erratically.

She drew a shaky breath. “Before we go any further, I need something from you, Rafe.”

In the darkness, his gaze searched hers, hoping,
praying
, that she wouldn’t ask for promises he couldn’t give her. “And what’s that?”

She lifted her free hand and skimmed her fingertips along his jaw. “A smile. Just for me.”

Obliging her request wasn’t as difficult as he thought it might be. All he had to do was remember this woman playing in the rain, her laughter, her joy for life, and his lips gradually curved into a genuine smile . . . just for her.

Her breath caught, her eyes glowing with delight and wonder. “You are, by far, one of the sexiest men I’ve ever met.” Sighing reverently, she touched his mouth, tracing the shape of his lips. “And this smile, well, it makes me feel restless, and very, very excited.”

His grin deepened. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah.” Her voice lowered to a husky purr, and she moved closer, twining her arms around his neck. Her body rubbed against his, their wet clothing a frustrating barrier. “It makes me want to kiss you.” Bringing his mouth down to hers, she did just that, branding him with a passionate kiss that made his head spin and his knees go weak.

Too soon, she lifted her lips from his, but her mouth quickly found other enticements, tasting the skin along his jaw and neck. “And kissing you makes me want you,” she murmured near his ear as her hands quickly undid the buttons on his shirt, then pulled the hem from the waistband of his jeans. “And wanting you makes me ache to touch you, all over.”

Her slender hands glided over his bare chest and down his belly, then began unbuckling his belt. He groaned helplessly as his body responded, growing hard and eager.
Damn
, he’d meant to seduce
her
, but the woman had her own agenda. And who was he to hamper her very arousing efforts?

What could have been an awkward situation while struggling to remove their drenched, clinging clothes, Lauren turned into a playful, sensual game. More laughter filled his bedroom, which he hadn’t expected, not here and now when they were both on the verge of something more intimate. Yet the connection between them felt good, and right, and now that she’d pried laughter and smiles from him, he found he wanted to share that with her, and more.

As each article of clothing dropped to the floor, they touched and teased and explored, until the heat they generated dried their skin and made them both feverish with need. Rafe caressed her full breasts, then dipped his head to gently lave her nipples with his tongue. She tangled her fingers into his hair and sighed with unabashed pleasure.

His hands roamed, skimming her sleek curves, and when he found an especially sensitive spot at the indentation of her waist, she gasped and squirmed away. The bed behind her clipped the back of her knees, and she fell on top of the soft mattress. Joining her on the bed, he chuckled at her surprise, and couldn’t resist tickling her again.

Before long, they were breathless with laughter, and Lauren was begging him to stop the torture. He did, and all humor ceased as they both became aware of their very intimate position. Rafe’s hard, muscular length trapped Lauren’s soft, feminine body beneath him. Skin against heated, flushed skin, their arms and legs entwined so the slightest movement produced an electric, exquisite sensation.

Her lashes fell half-mast, and she rocked her hips against his. “Rafe . . .”

He groaned harshly, hating to leave her for even a second, but he did so to protect himself, and her. When he returned, she was just as pliant, and just as welcoming. Sliding between her parted legs, he wasted no time on further preliminaries. Framing her face between his palms, he kissed her, plunging his tongue past her lips, his possession as hot and demanding as the primal desire to make this woman his.

And then he did, swallowing her sharp gasp as he thrust hard and deep and lost himself in emotional and physical sensations that made him feel alive and reborn. And in return, he cherished her, and gave her a tenderness he’d forgotten existed.

In the aftermath, with Lauren curled so complacently against his chest, came the knowledge that his woman who’d colored his bleak world with her laughter and spirit, and believed in him when he’d thought himself unworthy of such trust and respect, would soon be gone, back to her own life in California, where she belonged.

And he’d be right back where he started.

Alone and miserable.

Lauren stood beneath the hot shower spray, trying not to be hurt by the fact that she’d woken up in Rafe’s bed,
alone
. After what they’d shared last night, she’d hoped . . . Oh, Lord, she’d honestly hoped that he’d fallen in love with her the way she had with him. His disappearing act this morning didn’t bode well for her emotions.

She loved him.
The knowledge didn’t surprise her. Last night, she’d followed her heart and it had led her right into Rafe’s arms where she’d known the most glorious pleasure of her life. She’d been the one to make him laugh, but he’d given her a greater joy and fulfillment . . . the kind of contentment that came with finding the
right
person.

After dating and rejecting a slew of men her mother had pronounced “suitable”, she’d found the one man who made her feel whole and complete—a stubborn, gorgeous cowboy who wouldn’t admit to needing anyone, not even her. He’d made her no promises, and she’d known that before she’d gone to his bed and complicated matters, but that knowledge did nothing to soothe the pain in her heart.

Trying desperately not to dwell on something she didn’t have the power to change—mainly Rafe’s feelings for her—Lauren finished her shower and dressed in shorts and a blouse. Towel-drying her hair, she stepped from the hall bathroom into the guest bedroom and found the object of her thoughts sitting on the bed, waiting for her.

Arms braced on his thighs, he watched her with those dark, steel-gray eyes of his. His hair looked as though it had been repeatedly finger-combed, shadows underscored his eyes, and a light stubble lined his jaw. She took little gratification in the fact that he looked as miserable as she felt.

“Hi,” she said, testing the waters between them, which didn’t feel all that calm. There was an underlying tension simmering in the room that made her very uneasy.

He released a long, harsh breath, as if he dreaded what was about to come. “I thought we might talk about last night.”

His voice was cool, detached, and it made her want to throw something at him, just to rouse a more passionate response from him, even if it was anger. She didn’t like that he’d retreated from her, not after how warm and tender he’d been only hours ago.

She crossed to her open suitcase and dropped her personal items into the luggage. Then she turned to face him. “Do you regret what happened?” She had to know that much, at least, no matter how painful his answer.

He scrubbed a hand over his jaw, his brows pulling into a deep frown. “No, but it can’t happen again.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, appreciating his honestly, but hating the stipulation he’d attached to it. “And what if I tell you that I . . .” At the last second, she refrained from using the word love, not certain he was ready to hear her confession. “That I care about you?”

He stood, shaking his head. “It makes no difference how we feel about one another. We don’t belong together, Lauren. You have your life in California, with your job and Bright Beginnings, and I’ve got my ranch here, in Wyoming. The two don’t mix.”

His ruthless argument was sound, but she didn’t want to believe that he’d discount what was between them so easily. “How do you know the two
couldn’t
mix?” she dared, confronting him head-on.

He accepted her challenge. “Because you’re too vibrant to live the rest of your life in a small town and on an isolated ranch.” He moved toward her, his gaze softening. When he reached where she stood so defiantly, he touched his fingertips to her cheek, making her unravel and melt. “You’re beautiful, and sophisticated, and in time you’d grow bored with a simple cowboy like me.” His voice was low and filled with resignation.

She swallowed the huge knot in her throat to hold back an uncharacteristic rush of tears. “Do you really believe I’m that shallow?”

A reluctant smile tugged at his mouth, a little sad, and a whole lot tender. “I don’t think you’re shallow at all. You’ve got big dreams, Lauren, bigger than the Wyoming sky. I’d only hold you back.”