Only Skin Deep (5 page)

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Authors: Cathleen Galitz

BOOK: Only Skin Deep
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Women could downplay size all they wanted, but Lauren grew positively wet at the thought of having something so big and hard inside her. Lordy, it was a wonder he didn't pop the rivets off those form-fitting jeans. That she could make such a man groan aloud was heady stuff.

Lauren hadn't returned home from college all those years ago a virgin, but her experience with men was limited, to say the least. And while she'd had a good time at the bar tonight, she hadn't wanted to so much as kiss any of the men with whom she'd danced. Certainly none made her want to rip off her clothes, discard her inhibitions and hop into bed with him.

Except for Travis.

The pickup swerved dangerously, and he yanked the steering wheel sharply to guide it back on the road. Headlights illuminated the open archway of the vast Half Moon Ranch. Frustration and relief laced his words as he announced in a tight voice, “We're home.”

Could there be any sweeter words to a woman longing for a relationship with a good man? More than mere walls and flooring and a roof,
home
evoked images of a cozy fire in the hearth, the smell of freshly baked bread, wild roses on the table, primitive artwork displayed on the refrigerator and the sound of children's laughter floating through an open door. Lauren wished there was some way to let Travis know she wanted so much more than the simple physical satisfaction that both their bodies were demanding.

“One can only hope,” she whispered, never dreaming that he might actually hear, let alone respond to, her heart's desire.

Five

T
ravis accompanied Lauren to her front door in stunned silence. The heartfelt words she'd whispered left him feeling like scum for allowing his thoughts to turn down such a purely carnal road. All Lauren wanted was a home, a husband and children to call her own. She'd never made any bones about that.

And cad that he was, all Travis could think about was how just getting this woman in and out of his pickup was proving to be almost as erotic as those persistent fantasies about getting her into his bed. In her present condition, Lauren had practically poured herself into his arms when he opened the passenger door and offered to see her safely inside. The warmth of her lovely, limp body pressed against his was enough to make a strong
man weak. In such a compromising position, Lauren would have to be completely passed out not to notice he was as hard as a rock. He hadn't wanted a woman this badly since he'd been a horny teenager with more imagination than experience beneath his belt.

The trouble with acting on that powerful tug of arousal was that Travis was nowhere near ready to make the kind of commitment Lauren wanted. The very honesty that compelled her to blurt out her intentions of finding a husband before the first snow of the season would send most self-respecting bachelors scurrying for cover. He was as committed to retaining his single status as Lauren was to terminating hers. Having previously been burned by the institution of marriage and one very selfish and manipulative woman in particular, Travis wasn't inclined to make the same mistake again. Not that he was ready to forswear the female species all together.

Just those with big green eyes who believed in fairy-tale endings complete with fancy wedding gowns.

Travis considered that all too symbolic white dress. The likelihood of a woman of Lauren's age being a virgin was highly improbable.

“Would you like to come in?” she asked.

More than I care to admit.

“I really shouldn't,” he said. Inhaling the scent of her delicate perfume, Travis donned a casual manner. “But I wouldn't mind taking a look at what you've done with the place.”

He stepped inside, and Lauren fumbled for the light switch. Travis couldn't believe his eyes as they adjust
ed to the sudden glow. The change was amazing. For a woman who didn't plan on sticking around long, Lauren certainly had put in a lot of work into fixing up the once spartan cabin.

Soft blue cushions on white wicker furniture invited him to sit down and put his feet up. Scattered on the gleaming hardwood floor were several handwoven rugs in a Native American design. Matching curtains fluttered against a window open to the night air, and a bouquet of sunflowers added a bright spot of color against aged log walls. An array of breakable knickknacks straight from a magazine personalized the space. A moveable island made of pine expanded the limited kitchen work area.

Beauty and efficiency lay in the loving details of her decorating touches.

“Grandpa would love this,” Travis said.

Though his grandmother had died when he was much younger, he knew she, too, would approve of Lauren's effort to make a home out of their neglected old homestead. Lauren smiled at the compliment as if she'd just been awarded a blue ribbon, and Travis felt something unfamiliar take a hold of his heart. She looked so pretty and so very pleased with his reaction that he had to shove his hands in his pockets to keep from putting them all over her.

“Come on,” she urged, deliberately tugging one of his hands out of safekeeping. “Let me show you the rest of the place.”

Her fingers laced through his. A hot rush of awareness ran the length of Travis's arm and tightened his
groin. A wiser man would have made up some excuse to leave—like the sudden need to take an ice-cold shower. Swinging the bathroom door open, Lauren offered him the opportunity to do so. She presented him with a view of a familiar antique claw foot tub, all shined up and newly fitted with a hand-held showerhead. Candles, bubble bath and soft towels rested on a small wooden table alongside a modest collection of cosmetics. Three coordinated pictures of flowers hung in a line above the tub, and a full-length mirror placed strategically in front of a white woven bath mat brought to mind erotic images of a dripping wet Lauren stepping from the tub to dry herself in duplicate—the real her and the reflection of her.

There was no need to run any hot water from the tap to steam up Travis's mental mirror.

“Nice,” he croaked, hoping she would assume he was referring to the room and not all the wicked things he imagined doing to her with that showerhead.

“Come on,” she urged.

Since the cabin consisted of only three rooms and a porch, that left just the bedroom for his perusal. Travis swallowed. If it had been hard not picturing Lauren naked in the bathroom, it was downright impossible not to imagine her sprawled out in all her womanly glory upon the soft pink bedspread that accessorized a headboard with roses painted on its porcelain knobs. Normally Travis would have felt out of place in such a feminine room, but somehow Lauren's bedroom was just as inviting as the rest of the house.

If not more so.

Positioning herself on the edge of the bed, she looked up at him with such a sweet, albeit tipsy, expression that he wasn't sure he could meet the challenge of leaving before he initiated something that they would both later regret.

Lauren shot him a rueful smile. “I never thought I'd see the day when I'd be entertaining Travis Banks in my bedroom.”

“Why not?”

“Why not?” she parroted with a squeak that emphasized her own sense of disbelief. “Need I remind you that when you were a senior in high school, you couldn't so much as be bothered to give a little nobody freshman like me the time of day?”

Travis put a pucker between his eyebrows as if he were taxing his memory. “I don't recall you ever asking me for it.”

“I didn't have the nerve,” Lauren admitted.

Travis sighed. If he'd somehow hurt her feelings back then, it was certainly not intentional on his part.

“Actually, I don't remember a lot about my senior year other than how hard it was trying to fit my athletic schedule around chores at home and worrying about my grandpa who was dying of cancer. But, now that you mention it, I do vaguely recall you just about melting into the floor the few times I tried to so much as make eye contact with you.”

Lauren felt the blood creep up her neck. It was hard enough getting her fuzzy thoughts around the fact that
Travis remembered her at all, let alone entertaining the idea that her hero's feet actually touched the ground those many years ago. Back then it had never occurred to her that he might be struggling with anything more important than how to juggle cheerleaders and footballs at the same time. Lauren could tell by the way Travis's voice softened every time he mentioned his grandfather that they had shared a close bond. Not unlike the one she shared with the father she had lost about the same time.

“I'm afraid you still have the same effect on me,” she confessed, referring to his remark about her melting away at the sight of him.

“You have a different effect on me now.”

Travis's voice was deep and throaty and laden with palpable implications. That acknowledgment was enough to send Lauren's already woozy sense of equilibrium into loop-to-loops. When she'd hid her secret crush behind a pile of schoolbooks, her adolescent brain could not have invented a more delicious scene than the one unfolding right now. Having gone to a great deal of trouble to put herself out there tonight, Lauren thought that it would be a shame to simply turn out the light on this evening without reexamining her old fantasies and indulging her curiosity at long last. Travis may not be the marrying type, but that wasn't to say he wasn't attracted to her. Or her to him.

From the very first time she'd seen it, Lauren had loved his face. The clean, fresh-scrubbed, all-American look of it. The humor and vision shining from those mercurial gray eyes of his. And the cockeyed, boyish smile that could get him out of trouble in any teacher's class.

Especially hers.

Time had done nothing to diminish Lauren's feelings for him. It had, in fact, only intensified them.

That he was looking at her as if he wanted to eat her alive emboldened her. Having worked up a good appetite herself, she couldn't bring herself to turn away from such a sumptuous banquet. Just because this was a once in a lifetime feast, didn't mean she should refrain from sampling the gourmet menu out of fear of ruining her taste for more ordinary fare.

Lauren forced herself not to melt when she made eye contact this time. Anticipation zinged through her like a jolt of pure electricity. The look Travis gave her in return was hot enough to cause spontaneous combustion. She doubted the portable extinguisher she kept under the sink would have the least effect upon the fire they were about to start.

“How about you tuck me in tonight?” she asked over the thunderous beating of her heart.

His voice sounded like it was being dragged over broken glass. “I don't think that's such a good idea.”

Ignoring that counsel, she kicked off her high heels and lay back against the pillows, hoping to strike a seductive pose. Catching her reflection in the mirror above her dresser, she thought she looked pretty darn good, too, even though she felt somewhat ridiculous.

“I think it's a great idea.”

“You've had too much to drink, Lauren. A gentleman doesn't take advantage of a lady under those circumstances.”

Travis's rumbling voice echoed off the walls and reverberated inside Lauren's bones. Taking his gallantry as a personal rebuff, she recalled whispered conversations implying that he wasn't always so chivalrous.

Apparently he just didn't want
her.

Lauren wondered what circumstances might provoke him to abandon such unexpected principles. The thought challenged a womanly sense of defiance buried deep inside her. A coy smile toyed with the edges of her mouth.

“Who says I want you to be gentleman tonight? Rumor has it you're not always so gallant.”

A muscle along his jawline jumped, and his gray eyes darkened to the color of gathering storm clouds. His voice was deep in his throat.

“Then I doubt you've been talking to any real ladies.”

“Maybe not,” Lauren agreed easily enough. She reached down to unbuckle her belt. “And maybe what you've heard about what kind of a lady I am has been exaggerated as well.”

Travis's laughter boomed in the small room, wounding her. Clearly he wasn't buying her femme fatale act. She sat up on the edge of the bed and confronted him with the boring facts of her life.

“Okay, maybe I'm no swinging single, but let me tell you being a lady isn't all it's cracked up to be.

A note of wistfulness crept into her voice as she continued.

“Being on best behavior all the time has done little but leave me lonely. Don't you want to be the one to unmask a terminally good girl and set her free at last?”

The look of amusement on Travis's handsome face vanished. Desire took its place, but restraint made its presence known as well.

“Are you sure that's what you want?” he asked flatly.

Lauren's throat went tight and her heart seemed to be pounding to get out.

“Positive.”

One hundred percent.

She'd never been more certain of anything in her life. She was tired of living life from the outside looking in. Tired of tamping down her own desires just because some pesky little voice in her head refused to let her take a risk. Lauren knew it was hopeless to think anything permanent would come out of this act of rebellion, of pure self-indulgence.

But that didn't make her want Travis any less.

“Have it your way then. Just don't go expecting more than I can give you afterward.”

Though his words were far from romantic, the sound of his zipper sliding down was the most erotic thing Lauren had ever heard. She held her breath. Nothing could have torn her gaze away from the sight of Travis stripping for her. Sandy hair dusted a well-muscled chest, trailed down a washboard stomach and disappeared beneath the waistband of a pair of jeans hanging precariously low on a pair of masculine hips. He tossed his shirt upon on the floor and was tugging his boots off before it occurred to him to ask one very crucial question.

“You are on birth control, aren't you?”

Cursing herself for her lack of foresight, Lauren focused her gaze on his bare chest and mutely shook her head. Any fantasies she might have had about him being the one who wanted children in his previous marriage dissolved on the spot.

Travis swore under his breath.

Lauren supposed he had a right to be angry. As adamant as he was about preserving his bachelor status, he certainly didn't need a baby complicating his life. Hers either, for that matter—at least until she met a settling-down kind of man who wanted children as much as she did. That didn't lessen the sense of disappointment that swamped her at the thought that this night may well be over before it even began however.

“Don't you carry something with you?” she asked meekly.

Travis glared at her. “I don't know what you've heard about me, but for your information, I'm not a walking drugstore and I don't sleep around indiscriminately.”

Lauren was glad the local gossips had it wrong. Not that it helped do anything to solve her present predicament: that of wanting this man more than life itself and being in the position to do nothing about it. She doubted whether she'd ever be able to muster up the courage to throw herself at him again.

“Maybe we should just forget the whole thing,” Travis suggested in a tone that sounded less than chivalrous as he ran a hand through his hair in a gesture of pure frustration.

“Maybe I don't want to.”

The petulance in her own voice surprised Lauren. She hadn't waited this long and worked herself into such a state to let opportunity pass her by so easily. All of a sudden she didn't care if she sounded forward. She didn't even care if she sounded desperate.

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