Unexpected (19 page)

Eli tightened, his breath coming out in a low rush. His palms settled on either side of her head, his fingers curling around her nape. Cautiously, Ray scraped him with her teeth and he groaned aloud. The sound was one of incredible pleasure and encouragement.

Ray smiled up at Eli. His cheeks were dark with aroused color, his eyes glazed and hot. With his bare chest swelling, he looked incredibly sexy and all too appealing.

Ray pulled the snap free on his jeans. For a brief moment, Eli closed his eyes then quickly opened them again. Ray slowly slid the zipper down, teasing him as he'd often teased her, then slipped her hand inside.

His size thrilled her, so powerful and hard, just like Eli himself. He was warm and velvet smooth, throbbing in her palm.

Rubbing her cheek against him, Ray whispered, “I've thought of touching you a hundred times since last night. I kept wishing it had never happened because it was so irresponsible of me. There was so much at risk. But I'm glad we had last night, Eli. And I'm glad we have now.”

“We have a lifetime together, Ray,” he insisted. But she chose that moment to kiss him, her mouth warm and wet and open. Eli tilted his head back and concentrated on breathing deeply. Her tongue stroked down his length, then back up again. When it curled over the tip of him, tasting, teasing, he growled viciously and locked his knees to stay upright. Ray loved his reaction.

She came to her feet. “Take your pants off.”

Eli blinked at the startling command, then narrowed his eyes in sudden comprehension. Shaking his head, he said, “I have a better idea. Let's put this on even footing.”

“I don't know—”

Eli reached for the hem of her shirt, then pulled it up and over her head. For several moments, he just looked at her, his gaze as tangible as the heat of his body and his fast shallow breath. He tossed the shirt aside.

His large hands covered her breasts, kneading, making her nipples pucker tight. The moment he felt that, he dragged his thumbs slowly over her nipples. “You're always trying to maintain control, aren't you, sweetheart?” He stared into her eyes as he toyed with her, lightly twisting, plucking her nipples, making her gasp.

“Someone has to be in control,” she breathed. “Better me than you.”

“Oh, I don't know. I like controlling you just a bit. I get the feeling it doesn't happen too often.”

It didn't happen at all, and just maybe that was part of Eli's appeal. Her thoughts scattered, there and gone as Eli continued to arouse her. He kissed her temple, her cheek. His tongue flicked around her ear, then dipped inside, sending delicious chills up her spine. She moaned softly.

Chuckling, the husky sound melting her bones, Eli caught the lobe of her ear between his teeth and plied it with his tongue. Ray fisted her hands in the crisp, curling hair on his chest.

“Hey. Take it easy.”

He was still amused, and Ray decided she didn't like it one bit. “I don't like you doing this, Eli.”

“Doing what?” He gave her a look of feigned confusion while gently, insistently tugging on her nipples. Her back arched toward him on a groan.

“You know exactly what I mean,” she insisted, panting now with the incredible sensations.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. You don't like it that I'm taking charge, that I can control the way you feel. You think you want a man you can lead around by the nose. But you don't, Ray. Not really.”

Ray knew that wasn't true, that she didn't want some spineless mama's boy, but she couldn't seem to find the words to tell him so.

Eli gave a small, satisfied smile. “You're a strong-willed woman, Ray. You would detest a man who was weaker than you.” Eli leaned closer and his breath fanned the sensitive skin below her ear with each whispered word. “I think you like having me take charge, at least like this.”

He didn't wait for her to answer.

“If I touched you between your thighs right now, you'd be wet for me, wouldn't you, Ray?”

“Yes.” She saw no reason to deny it. There was an undeniable thrill in being overpowered, in giving herself into Eli's safekeeping. She was so independent in her thinking and skills, she'd never encountered anyone who threatened her control.

Eli grabbed her by the waist and hefted her over his shoulder. “Just what I wanted to hear.”

She stiffened in surprise and indignation. “This is not how I planned the night, Eli.”

“I know.” He tossed her gently in the center of the bed where she bounced twice before he came down beside her. Eli laughed, enjoying himself as he stretched her arms high above her head and held her wrists in one of his hands. “You thought to give a little payback, right?”

“You would have enjoyed my efforts.” Now she would enjoy his.

“We'll save that for another day.”

Ray already knew there wouldn't be another day, and that saddened her so much, she had to look away.

“Tell me you want me,” Eli whispered.

Ray shook her head. “I already told you.”

“Tell me again.”

He wanted to trap her somehow. Even though she realized that, Ray still felt the truth closing in on her, choking her. “Go to hell.”

Eli grinned. “You're something else, you know that, sweetheart? No, don't start fighting me. If you're not careful, I'm going to think you really want me to let you go.”

Ray went still. She drew a deep breath and whispered, “No, don't do that. Not yet. Not tonight.”

“Oh, honey. When will you understand?” Eli kissed her again. “I'm never letting you go.”

But he would, Ray knew that. Kevin had been her equal in every way, her partner, her life mate. And he'd walked away because she'd failed him, because he couldn't bear who she was and what she did.

There was no point in debating the issue tonight; it'd only spoil their time together. She watched Eli as his eyes swept over her, lingering on her naked breasts. Then he pressed her hands to the mattress.

“Don't move,” he warned. “Promise me.”

The man sure demanded a lot of promises. Hesitantly, Ray nodded. Submission wasn't easy for her, but it was incredibly exciting. Her heart beat a mad, fast rhythm with anticipation. Eli released her, waited a moment to make certain she'd obey him, then slipped his fingers into the waistband of her shorts, sliding them over her hips, down the length of her legs, and off her feet. He propped himself up on one arm beside her.

Ray held her breath as he touched her, his gaze following the movement of his hand. He caressed her breasts, thrilling her with the contrast of gentleness and startling aggression.

His fingertips explored her navel, the softness of her inner thighs, the warm, moist heat he'd already predicted would be there. Eli made a sound of satisfaction and murmured, “So wet.”

One finger slid deeply inside her. Ray's body clenched, squeezing him until he, too, groaned. When his gaze came back to her face, he was breathing hard. In whispered words, he told her, “I have never seen a woman so devastatingly sexy.”

His finger was still inside her, pressing gently, sliding in and out, and his body heat touched all along her side. Sensations, both physical and emotional, bombarded her in tidal proportions. Ray lowered her lashes, embarrassed at such a ridiculous compliment, knowing there was nothing sexy about her. But Eli wouldn't let her hide her feelings from him.

“Look at me, Ray.” When she did, he continued as if he knew exactly what she thought, how she felt. “Your body is strong and healthy and silky smooth, just like a woman's should be. I can't imagine any woman more beautiful than you.” As he spoke, he removed his finger and began stroking her rhythmically. She tried to counter his movements, tried to alleviate the ache that grew rapidly. Then his thumb came into play, sliding over her clitoris, and Ray couldn't bear the sensual onslaught a moment longer.

She lowered her arms and wrapped them around his neck, pressing her face hard into his shoulder. She shuddered, and the words wouldn't come easily, but she finally managed to whisper, “I think you're beautiful, too.” Then she squeezed him tight, her breasts crushed against his chest, and she begged, “Make love to me, Eli. Now. Please.”

In the next instant, he raised his hips, shoved his jeans off, and he was over her, pressing into her, holding her to his heart.

And neither of them once considered control.

 

 

Eli knew the moment he opened his eyes that she was gone. He stared at the shadowed ceiling, a little tense, a lot frustrated, but not at all surprised.

Or, for that matter, particularly worried. He would find her. And when he did, he'd hustle her sweet ass to a preacher so fast she wouldn't have time to come up with new ways to drive him crazy.

She was so damned unsure of her worth, at least where love was concerned. It amazed him, considering her natural arrogance and pride. But her life hadn't been an easy one. He thought of her parents' deaths, her aunt's cruelty, her work and Kevin's rejection—she couldn't trust in love. Yet. But somehow he'd reach her. He had to.

He was in love with her, of course. Head-over-heels, dropped-on-his-ass, turned-inside-out in love. He hadn't told Ray for the simple reason that she was skittish enough. He could just imagine how she would react to such an excess of emotion.

He smiled, remembering the night before. He had to stay on his toes to second-guess her, to keep from letting her categorize him as a rich milksop with nothing more substantial on his mind than his own pleasures. She would gladly take charge, then accuse him of being inept. She would willingly lead, only to claim he was malleable. She would call the shots, then claim their time together was over. It was herself she tried to convince, and he had no intention of allowing her to do so.

When he thought of making love with her last night—and it had been a joint effort, with no one leading or following—he had to smile. She wasn't selfish. Ray gave as well as took. And she'd been every bit as excited by touching him as she had been by his touches.

His body reacted predictably to those thoughts, and Eli decided it was time to get his plans underway. It probably wouldn't take him more than a week to find her, two at the most. Then he'd make certain to bind her to him, irrevocably. He could hardly wait to begin.

A
fter everything he'd said, his insistence, she'd thought for sure Eli would come after her. But five weeks had gone by without a word. She knew the advantages of the rich, being that they hired her for extravagant amounts of money. If Eli had wanted to find her, he could afford the means.

So, he must not want to.

Not that she should care. After all, she'd run off in the hope of escaping him.

Still, she was . . .
hurt.
How dumb that sounded. A specialized soldier had her feelings hurt. Well, boo hoo. Someone break out the violins.

She had bigger problems than tender emotions, anyway.

She'd gotten knocked up.

Preggo.

In the family way
—which was too bizarre for words because she didn't know squat about families and even less about babies. They were small. Messed their pants. Needed a lot of things
she
couldn't give.

She held her head, feeling like her world had just tipped off its axis.

It was disturbing emotionally and physically. She was sick when she shouldn't be, the pregnancy wearing on her like a full day of strenuous work. She slept so much it was pathetic, and she puked even more than that.

The morning sickness had flattened her. According to her doctor, it had hit early. Lucky her. She'd barely been home a week when she'd missed her first period. Soon after that, she'd started barfing for no good reason—and it didn't stop. She remembered the sympathy she'd felt for Jeremy and how she'd bragged that she never got nauseous. That statement had come back to bite her in the butt big-time. And for her, there were no drugs to help. It wouldn't be safe for the baby.

So, among other ailments, she puked. Morning, noon, and night.

She knew herself to be in prime physical shape, but now she felt limp and tired and out of sorts.

And it was all Eli's fault.

Only
he
didn't know it. And she didn't know how to tell him, or if she even should. But not telling him seemed unethical and downright cowardly. And if she had to be bitchy and sick and limp, she could at least not be a coward.

What would he do? She shuddered, unable to imagine his reaction.

Despite feeling like something the cat mauled and then dragged in, she still insisted on going to work. It helped to keep her mind off Eli, and these days, she needed all the help with that she could get. Unfortunately, her current carpentry project was in a diner. She didn't care that it was classier than most, it hit her with the same effect as a greasy spoon.

Though she was working in the back, installing crown molding and wainscot for their new meeting room, she could smell every single steak, lump of fish, or buttered vegetable that got ordered. She hadn't eaten that morning and still her stomach jumped and pitched and twisted.

She pushed through the discomfort, but by late afternoon she was uncommonly exhausted, and thankfully finished. The sight of half-eaten meals smothered in sauces she couldn't even pronounce had made her shaky.

And she had months to look forward to this?

Groaning and grumbling to herself, she found the manager and had him approve her work. She listened to his praise with only half an ear and a churning belly. He signed off on the job and gave her the remainder of her pay.

After a hasty thank you, Ray headed out. Her head pounded and it was difficult to swallow. She couldn't remember ever feeling so wretched.

Wearing her heavy tool belt, carrying her toolbox with one hand and holding her middle with the other, Ray sluggishly made her way toward the back exit where she'd left her truck. Just as she reached the door, a hand caught her arm.

The hold was gentle, but firm. “Hello, Ray Jean.”

Ray froze in midstep, her groan low and heartfelt. She'd recognize that voice anywhere. But it couldn't be. No way.
Not now.

Cautiously peering over her shoulder, Ray encountered Eli's hard, unwavering golden gaze. Uh-oh. He looked enraged. And wonderful.

God, she'd missed him.

Everything inside her turned upside down and like a volcano, she felt herself erupting. She dropped her toolbox, narrowly missing his foot but too sick to apologize. Covering her mouth, she raced for the rest room. She prayed she'd make it there in time. Humiliation would settle in later; for now all she could think about was getting away and finding some privacy.

Unfortunately, Eli followed hot on her heels.

She shoved the bathroom door open but couldn't shove it closed, not with him in the door frame.

“Get out,” she managed to say—then could say no more as she fell to her knees hard in front of the toilet.

Misery washed over her. She'd shoot him. She'd dislocate his shoulder. She'd . . .
oh gawd,
she hated being sick.

At first Eli stood there like a halfwit, then he made several overtures, none of them helpful, and finally cursed. Ray slumped against the toilet, never mind the unsanitary conditions. If she could have moved, she'd have killed Eli.

With a limp hand, she reached up and flushed.

Eli knelt beside her. He caught her shoulders and pulled her against him. “What do you want me to do, honey?”

He smelled good. And felt even better. “Leave.”

“Not on your life. No, don't stiffen up. Sit still and I'll get you a cool towel. Maybe that'll help.”

He couldn't be that stupid. A cool towel? Yeah, right, that'd fix things right up.

He was back in only moments, handing her several dripping paper towels.

She pushed them away. “I don't . . .”

“Hush, sweetheart. Breathe slowly.”

She well remembered his odd combination of gentleness and command. Since she wasn't up to killing him, she did as he told her, and even used the towels to wipe her forehead and mouth. The second she felt more collected, she leaned away from him. Propping her back against the cool tiled wall, Ray glared at him. Her hammer gouged her in the side and the tool belt made an uncomfortable lump against her back. “You could have given me some privacy.”

“So you could run off again? I don't think so.”

“Did I look like I was up to anything other than tossing up my guts?”

He stared a moment, fought the inevitable smile. “No. You didn't.” His words were so soft they sank right into her. “You still look pale as a ghost. What's wrong with you? Flu?”

She couldn't deal with this in a public toilet with her feeling like crapola and him looking as delicious as ever.

Eli's hand touched her chin in a now familiar gesture, and he asked suspiciously, “Ray?”

She struggled to her feet, went to the sink, and rinsed out her mouth.

The heat of his body touched her spine, letting her know he was right behind her. “Ignore me all you want, babe, but I'm not leaving here without you.”

“Fine.” She used another towel to dry her mouth. “I was ready to go anyway.” She avoided looking at him as she headed out.

He carried her toolbox for her, and she was just wasted enough that she let him. They went out the back door. Dressed in a dark green tank top and carpenter jeans, the early summer air felt nice settling over her bare shoulders and warming her face. She took a moment to enjoy the fresh air before fishing her keys out of her front pocket.

Eli took them away from her. “We'll take my truck.”

These days, her temper was on a very short fuse. She counted to ten, knew she'd puke again if she starting fighting him, and nodded. “Whatever you say, Eli.” There was still a definite bite in her tone.

“Well, now. That's a new attitude. I think I like it.”

Ray narrowed her eyes at him as they crossed the parking lot. “Don't press your luck.”

“We both know you're not in fighting form, Ray, so give it a rest.” Eli opened the passenger door of a shiny black full-sized pickup.

Ray cocked her brow at him. “Pretty fancy.”

With a negligent shrug, he said, “It gets me where I'm going.” Without her assistance, he unbuckled her tool belt and put it in the back along with her toolbox, then helped Ray inside and closed her door. With the cumbersome belt gone, Ray caught herself resting both hands over her still-flat belly. It was instinctive, a damned maternal gesture or something that she'd been doing ever since finding out about the pregnancy. She quickly jerked her hands away, putting them on the seat beside her hips.

She'd imagined their reunion a hundred times, especially after she first left him, when she'd stupidly allowed herself to think he'd immediately follow her. But as the weeks had passed and she began to think he wouldn't come after all, she tried not to think about him—without much success.

This wasn't how she'd imagined it would be. He was calm and detached, not at all glad to see her. In fact, she wasn't even certain why he'd bothered.

“Is there some reason for this visit, Eli? Or did you just happen to be in the neighborhood?”

He ignored her questions. “Where are we going?”

“I was going home. But without my transportation now . . .”

“I'll go back for your truck later. Where do you live?”

Ray grudgingly gave him directions. She hadn't had an appetite in too long to remember, but the thought of warm tea seemed just the thing to settle her stomach.

Eli didn't say a word when Ray directed him to pull into her driveway. It wasn't exactly a huge house, but it was spacious, a renovated farmhouse with a wide, curving porch and an upstairs balcony. Ray saw her brother's car in the drive and wanted to sink into the floorboards. Since Matt had found out about her pregnancy, he'd been pampering her. Even though they were always considerate of each other, it wasn't something she was used to.

Just as Eli turned off the engine, Matt stepped out of the house. Tall for his age, broad-shouldered but lean, her brother made an impressive sight. He walked down the porch steps and waited, his arms crossed over his chest, for Ray and Eli to get out.

Eli immediately took Ray's arm again. “Company of yours?”

“My brother. Better get prepared for the inquisition. He's a bit on the overprotective side.”

“And he let you go into Mataya?”

“He's only eighteen, Eli. I'm thirty-one. Do you really think I'd let anyone, even my brother, tell me what to do?”

“One can always hope.”

With that last comment, Eli started forward, towing Ray with him. She tried to give Matt a silent message to mind his own business, but he kept his attention fixed on Eli. He stood in front of the steps, blocking the entrance to the house. Ray saw that Eli was only a tiny bit taller than Matt.

She tried for a casual smile. “Matt, you're home early today.”

His gaze flickered to her face, then away again. “I fixed lunch for you. Soup. And before you tell me you're not hungry, remember what the doctor said about keeping up your strength.”

Frustration rose the minute Matt mentioned the doctor. Now the questions would start, and she had no doubt he'd done it on purpose. The brat.

Eli stared down at her, one brow raised in honest concern. “You've been to the doctor? Just how sick are you, Ray?”

Matt spoke up. “Oh, she's not exactly sick.”

Eli ignored him. “Ray?”

“It's nothing. An upset stomach.”

Matt snorted, then reached out to take her arm. “You look like hell, Ray. Come inside and I'll get you some tea. Lunch will be ready in a few minutes.”

Neither overbearing male seemed inclined to release her. Eli had one arm and Matt the other. They stared at each other in belligerent silence. Ray, never accused of being a diplomat, tried to think of some way to avoid a clash of wills, when suddenly her stomach settled the problem for her.

“Oh no, not again.”

Matt said, “Out of her way,” and hurriedly shoved Eli aside.

Ray dashed into the house—and she knew, there'd be no avoiding the truth now.

 

 

Appalled, Eli watched as Ray fled away. Again. Seeing her so pale and weak had already scared him. But for her to be this sick . . . He started after her.

Matt stopped him from following. “She'll be all right. But I can guarantee she won't appreciate you chasing on her heels.”

“But . . .”

“No one wants an audience for what she's going to do.”

Eli grudgingly agreed. “I suppose you're right.” Then he started up the steps, saying, “She should be in the damned bed, resting. She had no business going into work.” Without waiting for an invitation, Eli entered her home.

Matt didn't object. “She's stubborn.”

“No kidding.”

Eli looked around with curiosity. The house was sparsely furnished, antiquated and charming. It showed off Ray's considerable talents as a carpenter, just as Buddy had predicted. The house was neat as a pin, finished with crown molding, wooden floors, elaborate trim, and a lot of love.

It showed Ray's softer side—a side she'd probably deny—and he liked that.

Matt pointed to the kitchen. “You can wait in here for Ray. She'll be out in a minute.”

“I don't know about that. She's been avoiding me.”

“You don't say? And I thought it was the other way around.”

“No.”

At his one-word denial, Matt relaxed. “She won't avoid you this time. She's too afraid I'll start blabbing if she leaves me alone in here with you.”

“Blabbing about what?”

“Not yet.” Matt turned away, and Eli followed him into the large country kitchen where an oval pine table and four chairs sat. The smell of homemade soup filled the air. Eli straddled the chair, watching Matt as he lifted the lid off a large pot on the stove.

“You're Ray's brother?”

“That's right.” Matt turned and stuck out his hand. “Matt Vereker. I think I've already figured out who you are.”