Authors: Alyssa Howard
Her breasts heaving in agitation, Kara took several steps back and confronted her husband. Matt was standing just inside the room, towering over her, his eyes molten with purpose.
"Please leave," Kara whispered. "This is my room!"
"You're mistaken," he countered smoothly. "It's your room only as long as I allow it to be. But now I'm going to claim what's mine—which includes the room and my wife. After tonight, Kara, there aren't going to be any grounds for annulment," he added, his voice soft and suggestive. Loosening his tie, he pulled off his jacket and headed toward her.
Trembling, Kara took another step back. "What —what do you mean?" she stammered.
"You know exactly what I mean," Matt assured her, his voice now gentle and persuasive. With slow, deliberate motions he unbuckled his belt and then began to unbutton his shirt.
Kara stared at him in dawning realization. Her heart began to beat faster and she felt so breathless she wondered if she was going to faint. Matt pulled off the shirt and dropped it on the floor. The sight of his broad, hair-roughened chest was even more disturbing than his voice. Grinning like a cat toying with a mouse, he surveyed her warmly as he removed his shoes and socks.
"It's time for bed, you'd better get undressed," he informed her.
Kara's chin shot out stubbornly. "I will not." She took several more steps backward, but to her chagrin found herself hitting against the edge of the bed.
"I can see that you need some help," he said, a thread of amusement running through his voice as he moved toward her.
"No," she protested. But even to her own ears her voice lacked conviction.
Drawing her close into his embrace with one muscular arm, Matt deftly unsnapped the pearl-encrusted cummerbund. It fell to the floor and in the next moment the chiffon skirt joined it at her feet.
Grasping her waist, Matt pulled her against him. She was acutely conscious of the heat of his body against her naked thighs. Weakly she tried to struggle but she felt her trembling body betray her and mold itself to the masculine contours of his.
She sensed his rapid breathing as he began to unbutton the front of her silk blouse, but she was powerless to stop him. In a moment it was gaping open, revealing her creamy breasts through the sheer lacy wisp of her bra. His half-closed eyes devoured her alluring curves. Her nipples stood out taut against the sheer fabric. Slowly, with provocative deliberation, he bent his head and kissed the deep valley between her jutting breasts, and she felt them swell with desire. The next moment he had unhooked her bra and slipped the blouse from her shoulders.
Sweeping her up, he sat down heavily on the bed, and his eyes began drifting with maddening slowness over her body, examining every part of her as though he were an artist contemplating a portrait. Kara's face reddened at his sensual inspection.
She turned away, too shy to meet his eyes. But cupping her chin in his strong fingers, he forced her to encounter his gaze.
"Kara, you're so beautiful," he murmured against her ear. "There's no reason to be ashamed of showing your body to me. We're married—we're husband and wife."
Like a sculptor memorizing the planes of a beautiful statue with sensitive fingers, Matt traced the fine curves of her body. Her skin burned at his touch. Sensual messages went up and down her nerves like jolts of electric current.
"Matt," she moaned, "I've never slept with anyone before."
He paused, his eyes unfathomable but infinitely kind. "There's nothing to be afraid of, Kara," he reassured softly. "I won't hurt you. I only want to make love to you."
Tenderly he stretched her out on the satin coverlet and gently removed the rest of her clothing and took off his own.
Then Matt began on her hair, methodically pulling out the pins until it lay spread in a lustrous dark fan around her head on the pillow. Musingly, he took a strand of her silky curls and touched it to his lips. She could feel the heavy beating of his heart. Lowering his head, he kissed her lips—this time with fierce passion and a mounting urgency. His voice in her ear was husky.
"Kara, darling, listen to me… There will be no more talk of annulments between us. I'm going to make you mine tonight." His voice deepened possessively, persuasively. "Let me show you how good lovemaking can be between us."
Kara was too overwrought with conflicting emotions to respond coherently. When he began to kiss her—her lips, her temple, the hollow of her throat— she could only moan softly and close her eyes.
His warm hands cupped her breasts and then his fingers circled her nipples until they began to harden with desire. Feeling her response, he lowered his mouth to her breasts. While his lips teased her nipples, his hands stroked the flat surface of her stomach and then drifted down.
Flames began to lick dangerously through Kara's veins. Frightened of the passion stirring within her, she tried to fight the hot desire he was arousing in her, but his exploring lips and prowling fingers fanned the coals of her awakening passion into a raging conflagration. Expertly, he traced a random pattern over the most sensitive areas of her body, making her ache with need for him, arousing feelings she had never known she possessed. At last, caught up in his sensuous warmth, her body arched toward Matt, unconsciously demanding fulfillment.
With a groan, he covered her soft body with his hard one and kissed her deeply. She could hear the ragged effort of his breathing.
"Kara, sweetheart, I can't wait any longer," he whispered urgently. "I'll be as gentle as I can."
With a low moan of urgency, she clasped his head in her hands and held him to her. The center of her being was melting like a wax candle in flame. She ached with undeniable longing.
"Oh please," she murmured.
He swept her up, his strong, rhythmic movements carrying her high on a wave of sensation.
She was lost, drowning in feelings beyond description. She and Matt were fused together in white heat and she cried out in ecstasy as he arched above her.
"Oh, Kara," he whispered, his voice drugged with pleasure as he clasped her to him. "I've wanted you so much… It's all I've been thinking of this week. And now you're mine. I've never wanted any woman as much as I've wanted you."
His lips descended on hers tenderly. All her earlier anger and fear had been washed away by the fulfillment of his lovemaking.
"Oh, Matt," she sighed, trying to move closer to the warmth of his body. There was no question in her mind now that she loved her husband. She admitted that now. She had wanted him to make love to her—had wanted it from the moment he first kissed her in Uncle James' cabin.
They held each other close until Kara shivered, aware for the first time of the cold night air on her unprotected body. Sensing her discomfort, Matt lifted her tenderly in his arms and swept back the covers.
"Time to get under the sheets, Mrs. Jordan," he murmured in her ear as he settled the blankets around both of them. He wrapped her in the warmth of his arms and they held each other till morning.
Kara snuggled deeper into the covers, seeking the warmth of Matt's body that had been curled so protectively around hers during the night. But although his side of the bed was still warm, he was no longer there.
She felt a little stab of disappointment not having him beside her when she awoke. But he had probably gotten up to prepare breakfast. After all, this would be their real wedding morning together. She smiled, remembering the joy Matt had brought her the night before. It had been wonderful. She had never dreamed that lovemaking could be such a wondrous experience.
She knew now that she and Matt were made for each other. All the doubts that had plagued her before had been swept away by the sweet fulfillment of their lovemaking. It was true Matt hadn't yet said that he loved her—but then neither had she confessed her feelings for him. Words had seemed unnecessary at the time. But now, in the rosy morning afterglow of their shared intimacy, Kara felt a compelling need to tell Matt how she felt.
After pulling on her robe and slippers, Kara ran a comb through her tousled curls. Curiously she inspected her face in the mirror. She could see that her violet eyes had a new sparkle and her complexion seemed to glow. The fulfillment of her love for Matt last night had actually transformed her outward appearance, she noted with a shy smile.
With a light step, Kara headed for the kitchen. But halfway down the stairs, she heard Matt talking to someone in the living room and stopped in her tracks.
"I'm glad you came by," he was saying.
"Well, I wanted to make sure that you convinced that surprise wife of yours to fulfill her part of the bargain," the voice of Frank Adams responded.
"Oh, she's convinced," Matt chuckled. "She's being very cooperative."
Kara gasped and pressed her hand to her mouth as the realization of what Matt was saying hit her in the face like a slap.
"Well, from the way you two were acting when you left the party last night, I was afraid she wouldn't come with you to the Preakness today. And you know how important it is for you to be seen there together," the campaign manager was saying.
Face burning, Kara held her breath, waiting to hear what her husband would say.
"I know how to get along with Kara," Matt assured Adams. "So you just worry about the more conventional campaign details."
The other man snickered. "I've always envied your ability to handle women," he drawled suggestively.
The two men walked into the hall, and Kara, her fury rising, pressed herself back around the corner of the stairs so she would not be seen. After she heard the front door open and close, she marched down into the hall and stood glaring at Matt.
"So now I know what last night meant to you," she flung at him. "You don't care about me at all—I'm just a troublesome cog in your well oiled campaign machine."
Matt's face was an expressionless mask. "I'm sorry you heard that conversation, but it doesn't mean what you think it does," he said harshly, all traces of his previous good humor wiped from his voice. There was a waiting, intense look in his gray eyes. But Kara plunged ahead.
"I'm surprised you didn't reassure Frank Adams that there weren't grounds for an annulment," she shot back sarcastically. "Or did I miss that part of the conversation?"
"I don't know how much of the conversation you missed," Matt said, his voice steady and controlled. "How long were you eavesdropping this time? You're becoming such an expert that I never know when you're hearing part of a discussion out of context." Without waiting for an answer, he stalked past Kara and headed through the living room toward the kitchen.
Impotent with rage, she followed.
Matt stood by the sink, filling the coffee pot with water. "I don't know about you, but I'd like something to eat before we leave for the Preakness."
"If you think that I'm going to that horse race with you, you're a more conceited, self-centered politician than I ever dreamed possible. You didn't even do me the courtesy of telling me we were going," Kara accused, standing stiffly near the kitchen door.
"You might as well sit down and make yourself comfortable," Matt told her, gesturing toward one of the kitchen chairs. "If you didn't know that the Preakness was today, then blame your uncle. I've been away all week, remember, and he was supposed to call and tell you about it. We're meeting him there, as a matter of fact."