The Great Texas Wedding Bargain (8 page)

Slowly, she prepared for bed, her limbs heavy as her thoughts dwelled on Rick. When she donned the negligee, it’s silky folds sliding over her skin, she couldn’t help going to the bathroom to stare in the mirror.

She liked the way she looked and wished—no, she couldn’t share her pleasure with Rick. Then she would be a tease. Rick was suffering enough with that ridiculous excuse for a sofa in the next room.

Sliding into the big, comfortable bed, she felt doubly guilty as she continued to think of Rick. There was plenty of room. But the reminder he’d given her when she’d insisted he couldn’t sleep there kept her still.

Their marriage was not real. They were going through all this for the children. She should be thinking about Torie and Drew instead of Rick.

She tried. She pictured Torie playing house, having a tea party with her dollies and Aunt Megan. Cuddling up in her arms. Drew, pulling himself up, so proud of his accomplishment before landing on his bottom, a look of surprise on his face.

Those thoughts brought a smile to her face and a relaxation to her body. But as she turned on her side and clutched the pillow closer, the last thought she had was that of her handsome husband kissing her at the altar.

I
T WAS A
rough night.

Rick tried to get comfortable on the sofa from hell. It might as well have been a bed of nails.

He’d stripped to his underwear, in hopes of getting some sleep. That hadn’t helped.

Then he’d gotten up and paced for an hour, figuring he’d tire himself out. Once he’d even gently opened the door to the bedroom. In the shadows, he saw Megan curled up under the cover, her beautiful hair spread across the pillow, sleeping peacefully.

He’d closed the door and muttered a few curse words.

Not to Megan. It wasn’t her fault she was such an innocent, undisturbed by the events of the day. She hadn’t had a bad marriage.

He remembered the panic he’d felt at the altar, and her warm touch that distracted him. He grinned. She’d been trying to reassure him. And had. His ex-wife hadn’t had a single thought for anyone but herself from their wedding day on.

Megan was different. She married for the children. And she was concerned about his feelings. And she turned him on like no other woman.

He’d slept with his wife before their wedding. He had been attracted to her. But it was nothing compared to what he felt when he kissed Megan.

He should’ve kissed her before the wedding.

Then he would’ve known he couldn’t marry her. It made him want her too much. And the more he kissed her, the more he wanted her.

He’d keep his distance from now on. Taking care of his herd, his ranch, that would distract him. Until he rode in at night to find Megan waiting for him in a clean house, good food on the table, a smile on her lips.

He groaned.

Hell, he was going to be in a constant fight with his hormones.

Weariness suddenly filled him. With a wrathful glare at the sofa, he sank onto it and sighed. He never had liked antiques. Now he hated them.

Doubling his knees up so his feet didn’t hang off the end, he covered himself with the blanket. At least the pillow was comfortable.

He gradually drifted off, only to reawaken every time he extended his legs. He’d punch his pillow and settle again. Only to awaken again.

And each time he came to, his mind traveled a few feet into the bedroom, wishing he were in that big comfortable bed, next to a certain, warm body.

Only he wasn’t thinking about sleeping.

A distant ringing pierced his sleep, but he couldn’t quite raise his eyelids. He hadn’t gotten much rest.

Until the door to the bedroom swung open and a frantic Megan whispered, “Rick, come get in the bed!”

He snapped awake at once and leaped to his feet, pulling her against him as she reached his side, his lips covering hers.

Megan was stunned by Rick’s reaction. He must not yet be awake. She pushed against him, twisting her lips away from his. “No, Rick!”

He frowned as he opened his eyes. “No? But you said—”

“The lady is bringing up our breakfast. She said to stay in bed. She’d use her key.” While she explained, she was gathering up the blanket and pillow, still warm from his large body—now covered only in a pair of white briefs.

Suddenly tongue-tied, Megan backed away, clutching the bedding.

In the silence, they both heard footsteps in the hallway.

Megan found her voice again. “Grab your clothes!” and she raced for the other room. She tossed Rick’s pillow onto the bed beside hers, kicked the blanket under the bed and slid into place, doubling her pillow to support her.

Rick rushed in behind her, dumping his clothes and boots on the nearest chair. Then he got in the bed with her.

“Damn! What time is it?” he muttered.

The vibrations of his voice and the warmth of his body stopped her from answering. An echo of what must’ve been a dream filled her head. Had she imagined him beside her during the night?

At least with the cover over him, she didn’t have to stare at all of his magnificent body. Only the upper portion of his chest was exposed to view.

Which was still more skin than she wanted to deal with. Because the compulsion to touch him, to warm her hands against him, was almost more than she could control.

“Good morning!” their hostess sang out just before she entered the bedroom.

Megan sank down a little lower under the cover, so that even her shoulders didn’t show.

“Uh, good morning,” Rick responded, then cleared his throat again.

Megan wondered if he was getting sick. He’d cleared his throat a lot last night, too. But she had more important things to think about right now.

“I hope you two were comfortable,” the lady offered, but there was a knowing grin on her face that brought color to Megan’s cheeks.

Fortunately, Rick wasn’t as tongue-tied as her. “Very comfortable,” he assured the woman. “This is a great bed.”

“Yes, it is.” With a wink, she added, “It doesn’t squeak. I’m sure you noticed.”

“Uh, yeah,” Rick agreed, while Megan wished she could hide her head under the covers.

“I’ll just set the tray over here,” the innkeeper said, indicating the desk that stood near the window. “And you can eat at your leisure. No need to check out for another couple of hours in case you want to rest a little longer.” She winked again and excused herself.

Megan didn’t move as she listened for the second door to close. She feared if she stirred, she might accidentally bump into Rick’s long legs beneath the cover. And who knew what would happen then.

After a couple of minutes of absolute silence, Rick muttered, “Man, this bed is really comfortable.”

The fact that he sounded drowsy, comfortable, content, was as frightening as his words were irritating. After the adrenaline rush from the phone call and subsequent events, Megan expected something a little more to the point.

“That’s all you’ve got to say?” she demanded, sitting up and pushing back the cover.

“Well, I could add that you look really good in that nightgown,” he drawled, a grin on his face.

She snatched the cover up to her chin. How could she have forgotten?

Glaring at him, her heart suddenly lurched. Not only did he look sexy, but he also looked exhausted. “I’m sorry. Was the sofa really uncomfortable?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said with a sigh, letting his eyelids fall.

He said nothing else and Megan watched him, letting herself drink in the sight of him in her bed. His ex-wife must’ve been crazy to let this man get away. What more could a woman want?

She answered her own question. She could want honesty, honor and…and a man who loved her.

At least Rick was honest. And he seemed to be honorable. For a pretend marriage, that was all she could ask for. He was a simple man who worked hard.

And owned a tux.

She frowned. She’d intended to ask him about that last night, but other things had gotten in the way. She could understand Cal owning a tux. He’d lived in Dallas and was a wealthy man.

But Rick? Supposedly he was a rancher on a tight budget. Why would he need to own a tuxedo? And what about all that computer equipment he had? The downstairs bedroom was more than an office. It was a technology center.

It was like finding NASA’s space exploration equipment at a small-town airport. Maybe Rick wasn’t as simple a man as she’d thought. Maybe he was hiding something, as her ex-brother-in-law had.

She shuddered as fear built in her. She opened her mouth to ask him some questions but was halted by a soft snore.

He’d gone to sleep?

So much for thinking he wanted her. So much for fearing her scandalous nightgown would drive him crazy. So much for…

“Be grateful,” she whispered to herself. She hadn’t wanted to fight him off, had she? Memory of that sudden kiss when she’d awakened him filled her. She’d longed to lean into him, to surrender to the passion that filled her. But she’d been too worried about what was about to happen.

Yes, she should be grateful that he’d fallen asleep. Because it wouldn’t take a lot of effort on his part to persuade her to abandon her rules. To convince her that sharing his passion wouldn’t hurt anything.

To give herself up to the urges he created in her, overpowering urges that took a lot of determination to counteract.

Very carefully, she slid from beneath the covers. When he didn’t move, she opened the suitcase and gathered up the new underwear and dress and tiptoed to the bathroom. She could have her shower and be properly dressed before she ate any of the breakfast.

And Rick could have some extra sleep in the comfortable bed, to make up for the night on the sofa.

“R
ICK
? R
ICK
?”

A warm hand on his shoulder, as well as the soft voice, slowly roused him. He rolled over and opened one eye. “Yeah?”

“It’s eleven-thirty. We need to check out at noon. If you want a shower and some breakfast, you’d better get moving. I’ll wait in the other room.”

Megan, dressed in the pale blue dress with small sprigs of flowers that clung to her body, as he’d imagined it would, began backing away from the bed.

“Have you eaten breakfast?” he asked, his mind catching up with his body.

“Yes. But there’s plenty left for you, even if it is a little cold.”

He sighed. “Why don’t you carry the tray to the other room and I’ll join you as soon as I shower.” When she frowned, he added, “I’m not fond of eating in bed.” He could’ve added alone, because the thought of eating his breakfast beside Megan, wearing that nightgown, might’ve been fun.

“Okay,” she quickly agreed and picked up the tray.

As she moved toward the door, he shoved back the cover. “I’ll get the door for you.”

She whirled around, almost losing the contents of the tray. “No! I’ll get it.”

Oh, yeah. He’d forgotten he wasn’t wearing any pants. Megan seemed upset about that. “Okay,” he agreed, staying in place while she juggled the tray to open the door. When the door closed behind her, he relaxed once more against the pillow.

Some wedding night. His body ached, but not for the right reasons.

Shoving back the cover, he sat on the edge of the bed. He shouldn’t be this tired. He had gotten some sleep on the sofa, even if it had been intermittent. And the time spent in this bed had been restful.

He was surprised he’d been able to sleep so soundly with Megan beside him. He guessed it just proved how tired he’d been. Memories of how she’d looked in that blue gown, her eyes huge, sent heat through his body.

With a chuckle, he questioned whether it was the blue of the nightgown or the fear he’d grab her that had made her eyes look big.

It didn’t matter. This was the last time they’d share a bed, so he might as well forget it. A shower would help dismiss those kinds of thoughts from his mind.

A few minutes later, he appeared at the door to the sitting room, where Megan stood by the front window, her back to him.

“I think I’m presentable now. And hungry as a bear,” he added as she spun around.

She didn’t say anything, and she looked worried.

“Megan? Is something wrong?”

“No, of course not.” She hesitated, then added, “At least I hope not.”

He moved to her side. “What is it?”

“The four ladies, the ones you call the matchmakers, are here.”

“They came in here?” he asked, surprised.

“Not to our room. After I took my shower, I came in here to eat so I wouldn’t bother you. And I saw them arrive.”

“Maybe they came to settle the bill.”

“Probably. But I was worried that we didn’t convince the woman that everything was…was normal.”

He thought back to the few minutes the hostess had come into the bedroom. “I think we did.”

“But your dress shoes were in here, by the couch.”

“She’ll probably think I was getting comfortable before we managed to get to the bed.” In fact, if it had been a real honeymoon night, his clothes might’ve been scattered all over the place, and he wouldn’t have cared.

Megan’s cheeks heated up again. He’d never seen anyone blush as much as Megan. And he loved it.

He pulled her against him. “Don’t worry so much. Even if we didn’t convince her, the matchmakers will persuade her. They know the truth, even if they choose not to believe it.”

“I guess you’re right,” she murmured.

Rick loved feeling her against him. She must like it a little, too, because, as when they danced last night, she leaned her head against his shoulder.

Then she pulled back. “You’d better eat. We only have a few minutes before we’re supposed to check out. I’ll pack everything up in our new luggage while you eat.”

“I put my tux in the big suitcase, along with my other things,” he assured her as he started uncovering dishes on the tray. The sight of scrambled eggs, bacon, fresh fruit, distracted him.

“Do you use your tux often?”

“Not now,” he said absentmindedly.

“What did you do before you bought your ranch?”

Suddenly, his senses were on alert. Why did she want to know? One of the things he liked about the people of Cactus was their acceptance of him as he was, without questions. “I lived in a city. Why?”

“It seemed odd that you would own your own tux.”

“I bought it for a friend’s wedding. He told me it would be better to buy my own. It was on sale, so I believed him.”

“Oh, that makes sense.”

A funny answer. “Yeah.” It made sense as long as she didn’t see the designer label. He was glad he’d already packed the tux, instead of leaving it to her. He had no intention of revealing his past to Megan.

Most especially to Megan.

S
INCE
M
ARYBELLE
had worked the Thursday morning shift for Megan, and she wasn’t scheduled for the weekend, Megan didn’t have to worry about working again until Monday afternoon. Unless there was an emergency.

She and Rick arrived back at the ranch just a little after noon. When they went in the backdoor, Faith was still at the table with the children, feeding them lunch.

“Hi, Mom,” Megan said, unable to keep a certain coolness out of her voice.

“Aunt Megan!” Torie cried, a relieved smile on her face. “I thought you weren’t coming back!”

Faith said under her breath, “She’s worried all morning.”

Megan pulled out a chair next to Torie and gave her a hug. “Of course I came back. We’re all going to live here with Rick, remember?”

“And Daisy!” Torie added.

Rick raised one eyebrow. “Where is that dog?”

Faith answered. “Jose asked if he could take Daisy with him to work the cows.”

“Good. I need to go see how he’s managing. I’ll take the new luggage upstairs, Meg. Shall I put it in your room? Where’s my things?”

Again Faith answered. “I moved all your things back upstairs, remember?”

“I just wanted to be sure.”

“I moved some of your machines last night, with Celia’s help, but I’m not sure I got them arranged or hooked up the way you would want,” she added.

“Oh, Mom, you should’ve waited,” Megan protested, concerned that her mother might have messed up some of Rick’s fancy equipment, not to mention overexerted herself.

“Uh, it’s okay,” Rick said, but Megan could tell he was nervous about the results. “I’ll move the rest of it this afternoon when I get in.”

Then he hurried from the room, carrying the three suitcases.

“Where did you get the luggage?” Faith asked.

“It was part of the wedding gift,” Megan said, knowing her voice sounded stiff.

Her mother looked at her from beneath her lashes and scooped up another bite of peas for Drew.

“Why didn’t you warn me, Mom?”

“What good would it have done? You would’ve just worried,” Faith said.

“Or been a little better prepared.”

Faith shrugged her shoulders. “They asked me to keep it a secret, and I promised.”

Frustrated, Megan turned to the door leading from the kitchen. Torie stopped her.

“Where are you going, Aunt Megan?”

“Upstairs, to unpack, sweetie. Finish your lunch and then I’ll read you a story before you take your nap.”

“A Pooh bear story?” Torie asked, her gaze filled with hope.

Who could resist? Of course, the fact that it was the longest book Torie owned probably had something to do with her request. “Yes, the Pooh bear story. But you have to eat your vegetables first.”

“Okay,” Torie agreed, immediately cramming a large bite of carrots into her mouth with both the spoon and her hand.

“Torie, your manners!” Faith urged.

Megan slipped from the room without Torie noticing. She climbed the stairs and stopped at the first room, Rick’s.