Ready for Marriage?: The Marriage Ultimatum / Laying His Claim / The Bride Tamer. BEVERLY BARTON

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Ready for Marriage?: The  Marriage Ultimatum / Laying His Claim / The Bride Tamer - BEVERLY  BARTON


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moves to have his pants unzipped and her astride his lap.

      He shuddered. ‘‘I probably shouldn’t be doing this,’’ he said. But he couldn’t resist sliding one hand over the enticing swell of her hip. He smoothed a path down her upper leg to where the short skirt stopped and uttered a silent alleluia at the feel of her soft bare thigh beneath his palm.

      She placed her hands flat against his chest, palms side by side. ‘‘You can,’’ she whispered, ‘‘if you want to.’’

      ‘‘Oh, I want to,’’ he said, hearing his own voice come out a deep, rough growl, ‘‘but I don’t want to rush you. We can wait until we’re married.’’ A small, ignoble part of him sat up and shouted No, no, no! but he disregarded it. He was telling the truth; he didn’t want her to regret anything about their first time together. Still, it was all he could do to prevent himself from twisting his torso back and forth beneath the warm pressure of her small hands.

      ‘‘You’re not rushing me,’’ she said obliquely. She wouldn’t meet his eyes but kept them fixed on her hands. A surprising tenderness surged through him as he realized she was feeling shy. She was shy!

      Of all the things he associated with self-possessed, confident Kristin Gordon, shy probably wasn’t anywhere near the top of the list. And yet…she was looking to him to take the lead.

      Another realization swept over him. Kristin might be self-assured and smart as a whip about most things, but in this arena, he was definitely the more experienced of the two of them. Experienced…experience. Carefully, not wanting to spoil the moment, he said, ‘‘Kris? I, ah, don’t quite know how to ask you this, but—’’

      ‘‘I’m not a virgin.’’ Her voice was still soft, her eyes still averted.

      He couldn’t define the emotions that rushed through him at that one small sentence. Relief, maybe a little. He and Deb had both been virgins their first time together and it hadn’t been a stellar experience for either of them. He’d been fast; she’d been slow. He knew he’d hurt her, but had been so overwhelmed by basic adolescent lust that he’d had no hope of making it good for her, and he’d felt terribly guilty.

      Another emotion overshadowed his momentary recall. It seemed almost like…like jealousy. He tried to tell himself it was fatherly outrage, but that didn’t wash.

      ‘‘Who?’’ he managed. ‘‘When…?’’ The thought of some other man touching her intimately made him see red.

      ‘‘It was a long time ago,’’ she said softly. ‘‘My second year in college. And not something I was inspired to repeat.’’

      Tenderness swept through him, washing all other feelings away. ‘‘Let me inspire you then,’’ he said. He lifted her from his lap and stood, then bent and swung her into his arms. She was easy to carry, although she struggled wildly for a moment before clutching him around the neck. ‘‘Derek! What are you doing?’’

      ‘‘Taking you to bed,’’ he told her, striding from the room. ‘‘We’re going to do this right.’’

      Eight

      Had she known all along that this was how the evening would end? Had her subconscious picked up on something she hadn’t noticed? Was that the reason for the extraordinary case of nerves she’d been feeling?

      As Derek carried her up the stairs and shouldered open the door to his bedroom at the far end of the hall from Mollie’s, Kristin decided to stop thinking, stop analyzing and simply enjoy. She’d imagined making love with Derek so many times but her dearth of experience had limited the scope of her dreams to the basics. Tonight, she wouldn’t have to dream anymore.

      It was fast. Probably too fast, in the context of a normal dating relationship. She would no more think about sleeping with a guy on the first date than she would about flying to the moon. And under no circumstances would she sleep with a man while his child was in a room just down the hall.

      But this wasn’t a normal dating relationship. In actual fact, they’d never even had a real date. Instead, they’d lived in each other’s pockets for years, sharing the joys and worries of raising a baby girl. They’d spent hours discussing his business and the sanctuary, had made snowmen together and sung ‘‘Eensy, Weensy Spider’’ until they were both ready to scream. They’d shored up each other through times of grief, celebrated birthdays and shared silly jokes over a sinkful of dirty dishes.

      No, it couldn’t be further from a normal dating relationship. But it wasn’t fast in any but the most literal sense of the word, either. She knew him better than she’d ever known any man besides her father. She trusted him with her body in a way she could never trust anyone she’d only known weeks or months.

      They belonged together. And in just a short time, they would be married. Married! She still couldn’t quite believe it. But as Derek carried her into his bedroom and gently laid her on his bed, it became real in the most basic sense of the word. He switched on a small lamp that cast a dim glow over the room before he came down beside her and she had no more time for thought as he covered her mouth with his, kissing her with urgent demand. One of his legs slid over hers, pinning her in place, and she could feel his body surging against her hip as his breathing grew short and choppy. She put her hands to his neck and then slipped them up into his hair, kneading his scalp and holding him fast to her while his lips left hers and moved down her neck. He had one arm beneath her. The other lay heavily on her stomach, and she felt the muscles of her abdomen contract sharply when he spread his big hand wide, his little finger stretching down almost to the top of her feminine mound. A sudden surge of excitement danced through her and she rolled her hips up involuntarily, moving his finger over her. Her body was throbbing deep between her legs, aching for his touch and her breast heaved with frustration.

      Derek chuckled deep in his throat. ‘‘Not so fast. I’ve been having fantasies about this for days. I don’t want to rush.’’

      Slowly, he slipped his hand up her torso until he had covered her breast. He didn’t move, just held his hand there, cradling her gently. ‘‘You had me fooled,’’ he told her, lifting her head to look into her eyes. ‘‘I didn’t have any idea how beautiful your body was. I feel like a man coming out of a coma and just noticing the world around him for the first time.’’

      She smiled, raising her torso just the smallest bit, pressing herself more firmly into his palm. ‘‘I had most people fooled, I guess.’’

      ‘‘Why?’’ he asked. ‘‘You never answered me earlier.’’

      She shrugged, and the motion moved her breast beneath his hand, sending ribbons of pleasure snaking through her. ‘‘I never cared much what I looked like before. But when you said no to my proposition—’’

      ‘‘Your proposal,’’ he corrected her.

      ‘‘I realized that if I wanted to find a man I was going to have to learn how to attract one.’’

      He frowned and his eyes darkened. ‘‘So you started wearing revealing clothes, thinking that was the way to get noticed?’’

      ‘‘It worked on you,’’ she said, refusing to let him draw her into an argument. ‘‘So don’t be hypocritical.’’ She ran her hands down to his shoulders and over the heavy muscle of his upper arms, her fingers lingering to stroke and caress. ‘‘Can we talk later?’’

      He relaxed, a fleeting smile touching his mouth. ‘‘Yeah. We can.’’ He rose to his knees beside her. ‘‘Right now, I think you need to get out of these clothes.’’

      His hands were gentle as he tugged the aqua sweater over her head. She heard him suck in a harsh breath as his eyes blazed down at her breasts, and she thanked heaven that tonight she’d had the sense to wear the new sheer black lace bra and panty set she’d just bought. He placed both his hands over her breasts, cupping the full mounds and she shivered at the passion blazing in his blue eyes.

      ‘‘You, too,’’


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