Safe In The Rancher's Arms: Stranded with the Rancher / Sheltered by the Millionaire / Pregnant by the Texan

Eight

Beth navigated the gym, stopping to talk to a few people she recognized. Despite the circumstances, the large room felt comfortable and safe. Because so many families were in the same boat, a sense of camaraderie permeated the air.

Nobody was perfect. Tempers flared occasionally, and children fussed when they were tired and hungry. Without asking, Beth joined the line of volunteers helping serve a simple spaghetti dinner. Folding tables—hastily set up—accommodated the large crowd in shifts. She watched the hallway that led to the school proper and knew the moment Drew reappeared.

His eyes scanned the room. She couldn’t tell if he saw her or not. Instead of crossing the gym in her direction, he spoke with the site coordinator and was soon climbing a very tall ladder to replace lightbulbs on the ceiling.

Beth loved the way he walked and moved. He was confident, masculine and strong. Drew was the kind of man who should have at least a couple of kids, maybe more. He would be an incredible father. Beth had no memory of her father, so she didn’t have much personal basis for comparison. But she knew that things like compassion and generosity and gentleness were important.

While she had read Charlotte’s Web to the group of children, one small boy had climbed without fanfare into Drew’s lap. Far from seeming uncomfortable, Drew had murmured something to the kid and curled an arm around his waist.

Witnessing that moment had twisted something in Beth’s heart. But she ignored the wistful stab of longing. Perhaps because she was unable to decide if the pang was because of all she had missed as a child or because she was pretty sure she didn’t have what it took to be a parent.

A request for a refill pulled her back to the present. It was clear that people in this room were dealing with a host of emotions. Obviously, they were grateful for the meal and the shelter. But many of the men and women gathered under this one big roof were unaccustomed to accepting handouts. They seemed shell-shocked, as if still not quite believing they had lost their homes and most of their possessions.

Beth had an advantage there. She had learned at an early age that things could be taken away. One dismal January when the rent was due and money was nonexistent, Beth’s mother had done the unthinkable: she pawned the two shiny new bicycles a charity group had provided for Beth and Audie at Christmas. Audie wailed, but Beth never shed a tear, her grief and anger too deep to articulate. From then on, she understood that happiness was not to be trusted if it depended on accumulating material belongings.

She liked nice things. But she wasn’t driven to purchase them for herself. It was far more satisfying to put time and effort into her fields and to watch new life grow. Her house had been ripped apart, and there was a good chance that her brother would rob her blind. But she had to let it go. Those realities were out of her control.

In the end, Audie could only hurt her if she valued what he took. She had no childhood mementos. No much-loved antiques that had been her grandmother’s. No school trophies. No heirloom jewelry.

All she had was herself and her determination to make a good life. A clean life. A life worth living. It was a truth she shared with many in this room.

When the last of the refugees had been served, Beth and her co-workers sat down to eat. Drew snagged the seat beside her at the last minute. They ate quickly. It had been a long time since lunch.

Beneath the table, his thigh pressed against hers. The chairs were crunched closely together because of the confined space. It was impossible to ignore him even if she had wanted to.

He reached over and used his napkin to wipe a dab of sauce from her chin. “You about ready to go home?”

She nodded, feeling breathless suddenly. Drew’s gaze was warm and intimate. Did he mean for the evening to conclude in a very special way? They were both dirty and sweaty. Nothing in their current situation could be construed as romantic by any stretch of the imagination. But when his hand brushed hers, her throat constricted and her body felt hot and achy.

For months she had seen him as an adversary. A very sexy, gorgeous man, but someone to keep at bay, nevertheless. Now, the lines were blurred. They had shared a terrifying experience. Not only that, but they were working side by side in the town they both loved.

Comrades in arms often developed deep friendships during time spent in battle. Beth and Drew found themselves serving in the trenches, as it were. Their physical closeness had accelerated the formation of a definite bond. But as much as she liked and respected Drew, she definitely wanted more than friendship.

Wanting was okay. Crossing a physical line was okay. As long as she understood he wasn’t hers to keep.

* * *

Drew was bone tired and yet still aroused. He admired Beth so much. Despite personal losses, she had plunged headfirst into helping her neighbors. Instead of fretting about her own disaster, she acted as if nothing were wrong.

On the way back to the ranch, he glanced at his silent partner. “Do you want to stop by your house and check on things?”

“No.” She didn’t dress up her refusal.

“Are you sure? It won’t take but a minute.”

“I said no.”

The snap in her voice pissed him off. He could have found any one of a number of topics to chat about, but her stubbornness shut him up. Surely her brother’s situation weighed on her. It was easily within Drew’s power to erase all that stress. He had a legitimate job available for Audie. If Beth had asked, Drew would even move Audie and his family to Willowbrook temporarily.

So either Beth didn’t want to help her brother, or Beth didn’t want to accept Drew’s help. Come to think about it, she hadn’t exactly been enthused about staying at Willowbrook Farms herself.

Pulling up in front of the home where he had lived since birth, Drew shoved the gearshift into park, got out, and slammed the door. Hard. If Beth didn’t want his assistance, he wouldn’t force it on her. He had better things to do than wrangle with a hardheaded woman.

He unlocked the front door, not waiting to see if she had followed him. The house echoed with emptiness. The housekeeper had gone home, as had all of Drew’s staff except for the handful of guys who kept watch over the animals at night. Now he and Beth were alone. The thought tormented him.

He went straight to his bedroom, stripped off his filthy clothes and stalked toward the shower. The erection rearing thick and hungry against his belly made him grit his teeth. How in the hell could he want a woman so badly and at the same time feel the urge to shake her until her teeth rattled?

Usually he appreciated the luxury of triple showerheads. Tonight, the marble enclosure made him feel isolated and alone. That simple realization shook him. Since when did he need a woman? For sex, sure. He understood that drive. But the burning in his gut was about more than getting laid. He thought he and Beth had made progress toward becoming friends. Apparently, he was wrong.

He was so wound up in his righteous indignation that he didn’t notice at first when the glass door opened.

“Need some company?”

He whirled around so fast his feet nearly slid out from under him. That would have topped it all. Ending up ass-first, naked and wet at her feet.

“Beth....” He eased off on the hot water. Steam made it difficult for him to see, and he definitely didn’t want to miss a moment. “What are you doing here?”

It was a stupid question. Even he admitted that. She was wearing her shirt from today. And nothing else. The hem of the rumpled garment ended at the top of long, shapely legs. She had taken her hair down. Her toes curled against the stone floor, so maybe she wasn’t quite as blasé as she wanted to appear.

“We started something earlier,” she said. “At the school. I’m sorry I ruined the mood by arguing with you.”

Some mysterious constriction in his chest eased. He picked up a curl that lay on her shoulder. “So soft,” he muttered.

“Do you still want me?”

“Oh, yes.” Slowly, he unbuttoned her top. She’d had the foresight to remove her bra already. Soon nothing stood between him and the lush female flesh waiting to be touched, stroked, mapped with every hill and valley noted.

Beth seemed frozen, barely breathing. She watched him, eyes downcast, as he traced her collarbone, played lightly with her tight nipples, lifted and plumped her soft breasts. He was trying his damnedest to go slow. But when she closed her eyes and shuddered, he almost lost it.

Gently, he tugged at the cotton shirt until it slid down her arms. He pulled it free and tossed it out of the shower. “Come inside,” he said hoarsely. “We’re getting the bathroom floor wet.”

His prosaic request sounded awkward to his ears. But coherent speech was difficult if not impossible. All the blood in his body had run south, leaving him lightheaded and perilously lost to reason.

Beth looked up at him. She laid a hand, palm flat, against his stubbly cheek. “Will you wash my hair?” she asked. Her big shadowy eyes held secrets...feminine wiles. She was so close to him their thighs brushed. His sex throbbed against her belly, eager to see action.

“Of course,” he said gruffly. “Turn around.”

Her creamy skin was flawless. Until now, he had never realized that shoulder blades could be sexy. But when they pointed the way to a nipped-in waist and a butt shaped to fit a man’s hands, the view was mouthwatering. He kissed the nape of her neck before reaching for a plastic bottle. His shampoo was scented with pine. He had a feeling that from tonight forward, this particular smell was going to provoke a Pavlovian response.

Easing her backward a step, he covered her eyes with his hand and directed the stream of water until it darkened and straightened her thick, vibrant hair. When every strand was soaked, he adjusted the spray in the opposite direction and pulled her flush against him until her bottom nestled in the cradle of his thighs.

It was a very perverse form of self-torture, but things got worse when he began rubbing soapy liquid into her hair. His fingers caressed her scalp. Beth groaned—a sexy, visceral sound that tightened every muscle in his body despite the warm shower. It was the most effective form of foreplay he had ever tried.

Beth seemed to be enjoying it, but more to the point, the gentle massage actually sent his libido into a state of high alert. He reached around her with both arms and slid his hands across slick breasts. Was she panting, or was it he?

It occurred to him—despite his mental faculties being sluggish—that the sooner he finished this project, the sooner he’d have Beth in his bed where he wanted her. Exercising admirable control, he returned to the task at hand and began rinsing her hair. Tiny soap bubbles clung to his fingers, even as strands of dark gold wound themselves around his wrists.

Beth remained silent. Since he was behind her, he couldn’t see her expression. Finally, after interminable minutes, he decided his job was complete. He had to clear his throat to speak. “All done,” he said.

She turned slowly, her lips curved in a smile of feminine amusement. “You have hidden talents, Mr. Farrell.”

“I’m only getting started.”

“That’s nice to know.” The air that surrounded them was thick with moisture and charged with anticipation.

Without asking for permission, she reached for the soap and a washcloth. Something about the lazy movements of her hands as she rubbed the plain white bar against the navy cotton square mesmerized him. “I think I was already clean before you joined me,” he pointed out, eager to move things along.

Beth reached up to kiss him, her lips clinging just long enough to drive him insane.

“I should make sure you didn’t miss any spots,” she whispered. “Put your hands behind your neck and spread your legs.”

He obeyed instinctively. Compliance was a foregone conclusion.

Without realizing it, he closed his eyes. When Beth touched him on the upper thigh, he flinched...hard. Her husky laugh sent desire raging through his veins. “Hell, Beth. Warn a guy, why don’t you?”

Warm, rough strokes were her answer. Somehow she managed to avoid his erection. She dragged the wet, soapy cloth over and around his thighs and between his legs. His teeth dug so hard into his lower lip he tasted the tang of blood.

“Enough,” he groaned.

“If you say so.” She aimed the water at his abdomen, creating a waterfall that cascaded down his groin. In some dim, barely reasoning corner of his brain, he registered the fact that his next water bill was going to be outrageous.

Without warning, slender fingers closed around his shaft. Holy hell. He was so close to coming that his vision blurred.

With her free hand, she stroked his chest. “Don’t fight it, Drew,” she whispered. “Let go. Enjoy.”

He grabbed her close, clutching her against him as he came with an audible groan that encompassed shock, amazement and physical nirvana.

* * *

Beth scarcely knew herself. It had taken great courage to invade Drew’s privacy impetuously. But earlier today, they had turned up the heat. The wanting and needing had remained on a slow boil all afternoon and evening. It was only her stubbornness that had caused the rift.

Drew wanted to do everything he could for her. He was generous to a fault. And even Beth acknowledged that providing assistance to those in need should not always be predicated on whether or not the recipient deserved the help.

But Audie was a different story. Beth had been burned too many times in the past to believe that her brother had really changed. She loathed the idea of Drew taking a peek into her life, her gene pool. How could he look at Audie and not make some judgments about Beth, even if they were unconscious?

Since she didn’t want to get into complicated explanations of why she wanted to keep Drew far away from her brother, she did the next best thing. She let Drew see how much she wanted him, and how far she was willing to go.

Even in the aftermath of an impressive orgasm, he was quick on the uptake. He hustled them both out of the shower and made her stand still while he dried her from head to toe with a thick towel. Remaining passive beneath his touch was no hardship. His gentle care was at once soothing and arousing.

“Open your eyes, Beth.”

She obeyed reluctantly, fearing what she might see on his face. Taking the lead in sex the way she had in the shower was not her M.O. Some men would not like the tables being turned. It was programmed into male DNA to be the pursuer.

Drew stared at her, his eyes glittering with unveiled hunger. “I applaud your inventive enthusiasm, but this next time I’m not leaving you behind.”

“I can live with that.”

He scooped her into his arms and carried her into his bedroom. She had been so nervous going into this that his masculine domain had barely registered. Now, particularly after he turned on a small lamp on the chest, she saw a room that was both elegant and comfortable.

The navy carpet alone was hedonistic. Thick and soft, it invited toes to flex in its luxury. The bed was massive, a dark mahogany four-poster king covered in ivory damask. There was nothing remotely feminine about the decorating scheme, but Beth fell in love with the ambiance.

Drew appeared to hesitate for a moment. She looked up at him. “Is there a problem?”

His lips curled in a smile that sent shivers down her spine. “Not at all. I was merely counting up how many times and ways I want to take you and where to start.”

Her mouth dried. Feverish and needy, she raked her fingernails across his shoulder. “Swear you mean that.”

“Every word.”

Dumping her on her feet without ceremony, he threw back the covers and ripped open a drawer in the bedside table to find protection. The handful of packets he dropped on the tabletop was impressive.

He crooked a finger, his flash of white teeth wicked. “It’s your turn now, little tease. Prepare to be ravished.”

Without protest, she allowed him to draw her toward a mattress that seemed a mile wide. She shrieked when he lifted her without warning and tossed her onto soft sheets. Scrambling to appear worldly rather than awkward and ungainly, she curled on her side and pulled a corner of the sheet over her.

With one quick jerk of his hand, her modesty was history. “Don’t hide from me, Beth.”

“I wasn’t.”

His knowing smile acknowledged her lie. “Put your hands behind your neck and spread your legs.”

Somehow, when Drew repeated the command she had spoken to him in the shower, the words took on a whole new meaning. She melted from the inside out, every muscle in her body turning to heat and energy.

He watched with hooded eyes as she forced herself to comply. Deliberately exposing her sex to his hungry gaze took more courage than it had to invade his shower. “Be gentle with me,” she joked, jittery with nervous anticipation.

“The first time.”

Wow. How could a man infuse three syllables with such delicious intent and promise? She sucked in a deep breath and exhaled as he lowered himself next to her, his body radiating heat. “Why have we waited so long to do this?” he asked, teasing her navel with a fingertip.

She writhed and panted. “Because I’m a thorn in your side.”

“I can’t remember why.” He bent his head and kissed her flat tummy.

“That’s because you’re not thinking with the correct portion of your anatomy.”

“Damned straight. We’re in the midst of a truce. So I propose that you stay in my bed for as many hours as it takes for us both to get tired of each other.”

“How long will that be?”

He parted the folds of her sex with his thumbs. Her back arched instinctively.

“I’ll let you know,” he muttered.

After that, conversation halted in favor of sheer, carnal pleasure. Drew’s expertise was unmistakable. He touched her reverently, like a man examining a newfound treasure.

When she wanted him to go fast, he slowed down. When she craved more pressure, he gave her butterfly caresses. Pleasure built. Wanting multiplied. Her climax hit with the force of a thunderstorm, drenching her with delirium.

She reached for him. “Drew. Drew....”

He did what had to be done and moved between her legs, sliding his hands beneath her thighs and opening her even further to his possession. Feeling the blunt head of his sex as he pushed into her was in some ways more frightening than the tornado. How could she survive this? She had been halfway in love with him for months, disguising her silly unrequited crush as indifference.

Apparently, one of the reasons she had argued with him about her produce stand and her customers was to keep him coming back again and again. How pathetic was that? She’d lied to herself and not even seen the truth. If it had not already been far too late for second thoughts, she might have run from the room. With every stroke of his body inside hers, he left his imprint. She would never be the same.