The Cowboy's Gamble: Destined For Love Series (8 page)

Panic etched her expression. “I need time to get used to the idea of . . . of . . .”

“Having sex with me?” he offered.

“Yes!”

“What’s there to get used to?” Stretching his legs out in front of him, he folded his hands over his belly. His gaze locked on hers, and he let a wicked smile lift his mouth. “It’s not as though we’re strangers. We were good together, Josie, remember? You used to like the way I touched you, the way I made you come apart for me and beg for more.”

Her face inflamed. Jamming her hands on her hips, she leaned toward him, close enough that he could see the angry hurt flaring to life in her eyes. “That was before I learned what a rat you were and that you were just using me!”

He laughed at that. “That’s like calling the kettle black, don’t you think?”

She stood there, her hands balled into fists. And then, as if she realized she was fighting a losing battle, the fire went out of her and the tension in her body eased. “Fine, Seth,” she said. “I’ll agree to your terms, but just know up-front that I’m not going to be a willing participant.”

He controlled his rising fury with supreme effort. It wasn’t as though he was an ugly troll! “Oh, I think you will be.”

She touched her tongue to her bottom lip, where a triumphant smile lingered. “A woman has more control over those physical urges than a man does, so don’t count on it, O’Connor.”

She started to turn away to end the discussion, but he wasn’t about to let her have the last word, not when he was so damned furious he wanted to . . . kiss her and make her burn for him, until that haughty control of hers incinerated beneath the onslaught of his mouth and hands.

Faster than she could anticipate, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward where he was still sitting. She stumbled backward at the unexpected move, a gasp of shock catching in her throat. Another tug and she was sprawled inelegantly across his lap, her curvy bottom pressing against his hard thighs. She lost the use of one arm because it was wedged between her side and his chest, and he still had her other hand manacled.

She was trapped, and knew it, too.

The hand supporting her back found the end of her plaited hair, and he slowly wound the long, thick braid around his fist, forcing her head back and her lips to part on a gasp. His eyes must have been glittering with his barely suppressed rage, because alarm etched her features.

“Seth . . .” her voice was shaky, the pulse at the base of her throat pattering like a trapped butterfly. It matched the thrum beneath the press of his thumb on the pulse point in her wrist.

He almost let her go, almost gave into her soft plea, but as he stared at that ripe mouth of hers and thought of how good she’d taste, the slow heat of desire settled low in his belly and urged him on.

“I’m more than counting on you being a willing participant in our bed, darlin’,” he murmured, his tone low and deep and husky. “In fact, I’d be more than happy to prove here and now just how willing you’ll be.”

She tried to turn away as his lips descended, but the hand wrapped around her braid restrained her attempt. His mouth covered hers and she stiffened, clamping her lips tightly shut to keep him out. Undeterred, he tried a different, more sensual approach. He flicked his tongue along the seam then nibbled on her bottom lip before suckling the lush fullness into his mouth.

A groan rumbled in her throat, but her jaw remained unyielding, despite his efforts to gain entry. He found himself smiling at how stubborn she could be, and what had started as a punishment became a contest of wills Seth was determined to win.

Since he was having little luck with her mouth, he seduced her with slow, damp kisses along her throat, let his tongue lap along her neck, and grazed his teeth along her jaw until she trembled. He took his time, leisurely stripping away her resistance until she was overwhelmed with the sensual sensations he was creating.

Gradually, she stopped struggling. Her chest heaved with panting breaths, and the hand he’d manacled with his fingers grew slack. He went back to her mouth for another try; this time she was waiting for him, her lips already parted. She didn’t resist him when he settled his mouth over hers, didn’t protest when his tongue sought entrance and glided silkily along hers.

Hunger and need ripped through him, taking him by surprise. He’d meant to teach her a lesson . . . not fall into a trap of his own making.

Letting go of her hand, he gently framed her face in his palms and opened his mouth wider over hers. His tongue swept deeply, swirling sensually. Her response was tentative at first, then she moaned in acquiescence and gave him exactly what he was after. Surrender and pleasure.

Kissing her was just as magical as he remembered. Her mouth was just as honey-sweet and generous as in his dreams. No one had ever matched him so perfectly, no one had ever excited him more than the woman currently sitting in his lap. His body hardened, and he thought about how good it would feel to bury himself in her sleek warmth, how incredible she’d feel moving beneath him, her legs wrapped tight around his hips as she arched shamelessly and moaned her own pleasure.

Their wedding night suddenly seemed a million years away, and he wondered if he could talk her into getting married that afternoon.

Something gouged his shoulders, and it took him a moment to realize that Josie was using the heel of her palms to push him away, to try and break free. She was no longer caught up in that enchanting spell—she must have finally realized just how willing and eager she was for him.

Satisfied that he’d proven his point, he lifted his lips from hers, removed his hands from her face, and let her go. She shoved hard at that moment and squirmed away . . . and slid off his thighs and dropped like a rock onto the hardwood floor.

She winced and groaned at the excruciating impact, then glared up at him as if it were all his fault. Her fire was back, seething in her eyes. He wondered if she was angry with him for kissing her, or angrier at herself for kissing him back and enjoying every minute of it.

He grinned down at her. “So much for a woman having more control than a man does, hmm?” he couldn’t resist teasing. His jibe earned him a scathing look, but he didn’t care, because he was having too much fun. “Since you seemed to enjoy that kiss every bit as much as I did, a marriage of convenience is out of the question.”

“Go to hell,” she hissed.

He chuckled deeply. “You just put me there, darlin’” he said, referring to the stiff erection straining against the zipper of his jeans. “But we’ll take care of that problem on our wedding night.”

Before she had a chance to respond—and he had a feeling her reply would have had a heated, insulting edge to it—Seth heard a heavy
thump, thump, thump
coming from the other room and watched as Josie scrambled up from the floor. She straightened just as her daughter shuffled into the kitchen, looking from her disheveled mother to Seth.

The young girl’s green eyes widened with wariness at finding him in the kitchen, and he was amazed at how the child’s presence could put an immediate damper on his aroused state—thank goodness. Instinctively, she moved closer to Josie, seeking reassurance for his presence. Josie placed an arm around Kellie’s shoulder in a protective manner, and his jaw tensed in annoyance. Did she think he was some kind of monster who would hurt her child?

“‘Morning, honey,” she greeted the girl, her tone amazingly even and pleasant considering moments before she’d been a fireball of anger and indignation.

Seth found the sweet, charming Josie a fascinating contrast to the spitfire who’d been draped across his lap, that sassy mouth of hers kissing him with a wild passion that matched his own. The woman was an exciting blend of contradictions, and he experienced an inexplicable rush of male challenge at the thought of discovering those different layering contrasts—in bed, and out.

“‘Morning, Mom,” Kellie responded automatically, still staring at Seth.

Very gently, Josie tipped the girl’s chin up so Kellie had no choice but to transfer her gaze from Seth, to her mother’s. It seemed Josie wanted her daughter’s complete attention. “Remember we discussed Mr. O’Connor, and that’ll he’ll be living here?”

Kellie nodded. “Yeah, you said he’s going to be my new dad.”

He watched Josie visibly draw in a stabilizing breath, as if she wanted to refute the fact, but couldn’t. “That’s right. He’ll be your
step-dad
, by marriage.” Taking her daughter’s hand, she drew her closer to Seth and made the more formal introductions. “Kellie, I’d like you to meet Mr. O’Connor.”

Kellie politely extended her hand toward him, an automatic gesture dictated by the good manners she’d obviously been taught. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. O’Connor,” she said softly, and with more demure than her mother possessed.

He thought about standing, but changed his mind, not wanting to risk intimidating her with his size. This way, they were on eye level and equal to one another. Gently, he folded her small hand in between his two much larger ones, which made her take another step closer. At any time she could have pulled back her arm and he would have let her sever the contact between them. She didn’t so much as tug or try to wriggle her fingers loose. Her head tilted slightly, and her expression reflected a child-like fascination and curiosity.

A shy smile lifted her lips, and he was a goner.

The simple trust they’d established in that moment expanded Seth’s chest with a peculiar emotion he was hard pressed to put a name to. It filled him up and settled warmly near his heart. Suddenly, Mr. O’Connor seemed very proper and unapproachable.

“It’s very nice to meet you, too, Kellie,” he said, giving her his best winning smile. Unabashed pleasure lit up the young girl’s eyes, and he was again aware of that warm-fuzzy feeling spreading inside him. “And since your mother and I will be married, you can call me-”

“Mr. O’Connor,” Josie interjected firmly.

Seth glanced Josie’s way and lifted a dark brow in silent question, but she didn’t relent or soften. She stubbornly held her ground, her cool gaze making it clear she didn’t want him establishing any close attachments with her daughter.

He understood her protectiveness, he honestly did. She didn’t want their agreement and the dissension between them to affect her daughter on an emotional level, and it was that deep, instinctive perception that made him patient with Josie and her zealous maternal behavior.

He supposed if this sweet, guileless girl was his own, he’d be heedful of anyone trying to gain her trust as well. But considering the years ahead of them, he wanted an amicable, open relationship with the girl who would be his step-daughter. The girl he’d be responsible for. Surely Josie would want that too?

Ignoring Josie and her withering glare, he shifted his gaze back to Kellie, who appeared a little unsure of the tension swirling between adults.

He patted her hand one last time before letting go and said simply, “How about you just call me Seth for now?”

“Okay . . . Seth.” She ducked her head to cover up a modest smile, but not before he caught the hopeful glimmer in her pretty eyes, giving Seth the distinct impression the girl wanted his acceptance.

Odd, considering her mother’s adverse feelings toward him.

Josie placed her hands on her daughter’s shoulders and directed her to the other side of the table to sit. “Mr. O’Connor . . . Seth and I were just finishing up our conversation.” Her tone was as brisk as her movements as she crossed to the refrigerator and pulled out a flat of eggs, ham slices, and a tub of butter. “I’m sure he’s anxious to be on his way, and I need to fix you breakfast before I get to work.” Setting the items by the stove, she shot Seth a pointed look. “Don’t you have things you need to tend to on the Paradise Wild?”

“Nope,” he drawled lazily, refusing to take her subtle hint to leave. Standing, he picked up his empty mug and brought it with him to the counter next to Josie, where he helped himself to a fresh cup of coffee. “Actually, I don’t have a darn thing to do for the next two days. I quit the Paradise Wild and have all the time in the world until we get married.”

She cracked an egg on the edge of a glass bowl with more force than necessary, not looking happy about that fact. Especially since he didn’t seem inclined to spend his idle time elsewhere.

“Then maybe you can stay and have breakfast with us,” came the tentative request from the kitchen nook.

Seth and Josie turned their heads to glance at Kellie in one simultaneous motion. Seth grinned at the thoughtful invitation; Josie frowned at what she obviously construed a horrible suggestion.

“Why thank you, Kellie. That’s an offer I find difficult to refuse,” Seth said before Josie pounced on the opportunity to make up an excuse for him to be on his way. Kellie beamed at his compliment, pleased with her idea. “Good food, the company of two beautiful, sweet women. What more could a man ask for?”

Turning on the back burner on the stove, Josie placed a skillet on top of the flames. “Not to get food poisoning?” she offered, giving him a sugary smile.

He dipped his head and chuckled close to her ear. “Getting sick wouldn’t be such a bad thing, not with you as my wife. I kinda like the thought of you being my nurse.”

She picked up a sharp knife and sliced a slab of ham, her movements quick and efficient. “And I kinda like the thought of you being at my mercy.”

He winced as he watched her wield that knife with too much skill. “Touche,” he murmured, and moved back to the table and more friendly conversation with Kellie.

Josie watched him go, resenting that he was insinuating himself into their lives so easily, and swaying her impressionable young daughter with little effort. She couldn’t very well tell him to go buy his breakfast at the nearest diner without Kellie thinking she was a witch, so here she was, cooking scrambled eggs, ham and muffins for a man she didn’t like, a man who’d dared to kiss her and take liberties she’d allowed no other man for the past eleven years.

A man who’d openly gloated at her response. A man who wanted to claim his husbandly rights on their wedding night.