#1 New York Times bestselling author Susan Mallery brings you a fan-favorite story that smolders with intensity and passion.

According to the Glenwood rumor mill, Austin Lucas is temptation incarnate. Even the bashful, cherubic Rebecca Chambers, who runs a home for orphaned children, finds herself tempted by Austin’s sexy self-assurance. Still, with so many women vying for his attention, surely he’ll never notice such a tongue-tied wallflower.

But, after a stormy evening becomes a night of passion, gentle Rebecca has indeed captured Austin’s attention—and his desire. Has the small-town saint led the sinner to salvation? Or can Austin really be trusted with Rebecca’s heart?

Marriage on Demand

Susan Mallery

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Title Page

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

She’d forgotten how good the devil looked in blue jeans.

Rebecca Chambers stood just inside the garage door, soaking wet. The sound of the storm outside blocked the steady drip-drip from her dress and hair, but she could feel the individual drops collecting on her arms and legs, then falling to the ground. No doubt her mascara had formed perfect half circles under her eyes. She didn’t normally wear much makeup, but today she’d taken special pains with her appearance. Her white T-top was silk, and washable, thank goodness. But her loose floral-print jumper was a silk blend that wouldn’t survive the drenching. Mud caked her new black flats. She probably looked like something the cat dragged in. Or worse.

She didn’t know if God was punishing her for all her ridiculous fantasies, or if the Fates were having a good laugh at her expense. She sighed softly and brushed her wet hair out of her face. Did it matter? For whatever reason, every time she was in the presence of the man in front of her, she made a complete and total fool of herself. She couldn’t stop thinking wicked and inappropriate thoughts. They muddled her brain and left her gasping for air and complete sentences. It had been going on for two years. She glanced down at her dripping self and bit back a groan.

Her gaze was drawn away from her bedraggled appearance to the man bent over a car engine and the way he filled his jeans. It wasn’t fair, she told herself, staring at the worn denim and the tight rear end that led to illegally long, lean legs. He was going to stand up, turn around and see her. She was going to look like a dripping, homeless rat, and he was going to be gorgeous. He would stare at her with his killer gray eyes and wait for her to speak. If her tongue didn’t get tied up in knots, her knees would start shaking. It didn’t matter that she was almost thirty years old and a responsible adult.

In the past two years she’d been in the same room with Austin Lucas exactly eleven times. She’d made a fool out of herself twelve times. Once she’d not only knocked over a small table containing the refreshments for the local meeting, but she’d been in such a hurry to escape from his presence that she’d turned without watching where she was going and ran smack into a wall.

She tried not to think about that. Despite the slight chill from her wet clothing and hair, her cheeks were hot with embarrassment. She pressed her hands to her face and wished she had somewhere else to go. But she didn’t. He was her only hope. What on earth was he going to say when he saw her?

She glanced frantically around the garage, hoping to find a source of courage. A radio sat on the workbench lining one wall. Soft rock music filled the room. Next to the front left bumper of the car stood a red toolbox on a dingy cart. Nothing very inspiring, although the maleness of the equipment made her feel even more out of place. She was one of three girls and had little experience with guy stuff.

She drew in a deep breath, inhaling the odors of machine oil, wet cement and something that could only be the heady scent of Austin himself. She fought the urge to back up a step. Inside her belly, nerves and expectations joined hands in an uneven dance of hyperawareness. Please, God, why did it have to be him? Around town, women whispered he was as tempting as the devil himself. Heaven knows he tempted her.

She cleared her throat. “Mr. Lucas?”

He chose that moment to drop a wrench and swear loudly. The curses drowned out her words. She opened her mouth to speak again, but he bent down to pick up the tool and his jeans stretched tight across his rear.

Fourteen years ago, Rod Dowell had walked into her sophomore algebra class wearing tennis whites. She’d melted into her school-issue wooden chair and had wondered if she would ever be able to breathe normally again. She finally had, but it had taken almost three years. She’d carried the secret of that crush with her all the way until graduation when she finally found the courage to wish him luck. His brief, “Yeah, you, too,” had sent her reeling with excitement.

Now, staring at Austin Lucas, or rather at his long legs and tight, rounded rear end, she could feel her tongue twisting itself into knots and her hands getting sweaty on top of already being damp. It didn’t matter that she was far too old for adolescent crushes. It didn’t matter that he wouldn’t be interested in a woman like her. It didn’t matter that she was completely out of her league with him—a peewee ball player trying to compete with a pro. She couldn’t resist him, and she couldn’t walk away. He was her only hope.

Rebecca squared her shoulders and told herself she had to say something before she shivered to death. She opened her mouth. He spoke before she could.

“How long are you gonna stand there dripping?”

“Not long,” she said, her voice shaky. “Another ten minutes or so.” She clamped her hand over her mouth, not able to believe she’d actually said that. Her eyes fluttered shut. She wanted to die. She prayed for the cement floor to crack and swallow her whole. The floor didn’t budge.

“You can look now,” he said, a hint of teasing deepening his already low voice.

Rebecca opened one eye, then the other. Austin stood in front of her, wiping his hands on a dirty rag. He wasn’t especially good-looking, she told herself, then wondered why she bothered to lie. It didn’t do any good. He wore a faded denim shirt tucked into even more faded jeans. The slashed fabric by his left knee had nothing to do with fashion and everything to do with his life-style. His sleeves had been rolled up to his elbows. The top three buttons of the shirt were undone, exposing just enough chest to threaten her sanity.

Her gaze rose higher past the square jaw and firm mouth—not smiling, of course, for Austin rarely smiled—to hollow cheekbones and a straight nose. His cold gray eyes carefully shuttered all emotions. Thick dark hair had been brushed away from his face. It hung down long enough to scrape the bottom of his collar.

He was handsome as sin. Her gaze flickered to the small gold hoop earring he wore. The delicate circle of gold looked out of place on his totally masculine form. She’d never known a man who wore an earring. The small hoop looked perfect, she thought in defeat. It made her think of pirates and women stolen away for secret pleasures. It made her wonder about his flaunting of convention. It made her think about being in his bed. No doubt she would die of pleasure, but what a way to go. She stiffened her spine and told herself to get a grip. He was just a guy, and the gold hoop was just an earring. Of course Glenwood was a small town and slightly right of the rest of the nation. Men didn’t wear earrings here.

But Austin made up his own rules. That was, she acknowledged, part of his appeal. He was the bad boy, the devil in disguise. How could a woman like her be expected to resist that?

“Rebecca?” he said.

The sound of her name on his lips made her toes curl inside her damp, muddy shoes. “Huh?” Eloquent to the last, she thought, fighting back a groan.

“Why are you here?”

She opened her mouth to speak. Nothing came out. She closed it and thought carefully, then tried again. “My car’s stuck.”

He frowned, his dark eyebrows drawing together. “Okay. Where is your car?”

He was speaking slowly, as if to a half-witted child. She wanted to get indignant and tell him she was perfectly capable of carrying on a conversation. Unfortunately she wasn’t. With him she’d never managed more than a sentence or two without some sort of disaster striking. She glanced around the open garage. At least there wasn’t anything to break or spill here.

“It’s in the driveway,” she said, moving out of the room and into the rain. The drenching downpour had slowed somewhat, settling into a steady sprinkle. She felt the drops on her head and shoulders.

He hesitated before stepping out into the open. “Do you want an umbrella?” he asked.

She glanced down at her floral-print dress. It hung loosely, albeit damply, around her body. The long, calf-length skirt was heavy and probably stretching. “I think it’s a little late for that, don’t you?”

His gaze slipped over her, heating her chilled flesh and sending electric bolts zooming through her blood. When their eyes met, he smiled slowly. “I guess so.”

He stepped past her, his worn black cowboy boots squishing in the mud. She stood rooted in place. It wasn’t the thick muck that held her so firmly. It was his smile. She’d never seen Austin smile before. Lines had collected by his gray eyes; his teeth had flashed white. The smile had made him look teasingly dangerous, like a wolf pretending to be a lapdog. It had reminded her she was completely out of her element. He was all black leather and five different kinds of sin. She was a babe in the woods, uncomfortable and unwilling to play in the fast lane. He would find her as interesting as flat beer.

She turned on her heel, almost losing her shoe in the process, and started after him. He stood next to her old station wagon. Most of the fake wood paneling had long since cracked and peeled. The side of the car was two-tone, from an accident several years before. The engine had been rebuilt twice, and the vehicle needed new tires.

“You drive this thing?” he asked, staring at it as if he’d never seen anything so pathetic in his life.

“The home owns it,” she said. “I don’t have a car of my own. There’s a bench seat in the back, allowing us to seat five more kids, six if they’re small. It’s practical.”

He glanced at her and raised one eyebrow. She’d never actually seen someone do that. She wanted to see him do it again, but she didn’t ask him to. He might not understand.

“Practical or not, it’s sure as hell stuck.” He walked around the wagon. Each footstep squished in the mud.

His property stood at the far end of Glenwood. He had about ten acres. There was a three-car garage, an oversize, two-story barn and a huge empty house. The house was the reason she’d come calling in the rain.

According to rumors, which she couldn’t help but overhear, he was richer than God, had never married and was determined to keep his private life private. Glenwood was too small for him to achieve that. His long-term affairs were well documented by most of the women in town. A stunning redhead driving a white sports car had made biweekly trips through town and down his dusty, unpaved driveway for almost six months. Several times Rebecca had seen her and felt a stab of jealousy. Austin’s collection of ladies made men envious and women dream. Rebecca had dreamed, too, even as she’d known it was useless. Austin’s women had two things in common: curves and attitude. She glanced down at the wet clothing clinging to her straight, girlish body. She had neither.

He bent over the hood and rocked the car. She watched the muscles bunch in his arms. His shirt was already soaked and clinging to his back and chest. Rain fell on her face and dripped off the end of her nose. In the distance, she heard the rumble of thunder.

“Where are your keys?” he asked.

“In the ignition.”

He opened the door and slid into the seat. Within seconds the car started. Dependable as always, she thought, realizing she had a lot in common with the old car. Not very exciting, but they both got the job done.

Austin put it in drive. The wagon rocked forward. He eased on the gas. The wheels spun wildly in the mud. Rebecca jumped back to avoid being sprayed. Her right shoe stuck. She waved her arms in the air to try to maintain her balance. The car engine shut off. She heard squishing footsteps moving toward her but she didn’t dare look. She didn’t want to see the disgusted or amused expression in his eyes.

She started to go down and was forced to lower her stocking-clad foot into the mud to save herself. The thick cold earth swallowed her up to her ankle.

“Perfect,” she muttered.

A warm, strong hand gripped her arm. “You okay?” Austin asked.

She looked up at him. Her dark hair was in the way, so she moved it off of her face. She stared at him, dumbfounded.

Water rolled off his face and onto his chest. Drops slipped down into the open V of his shirt. The cotton clung to him, hugging his tanned skin, outlining his muscles, leaving nothing to her imagination.

She swallowed hard. Where his fingers touched her, she felt individual jolts, as if she’d been hooked up to an electric current. Her breasts swelled inside her damp shirt.

“Rebecca?”

“What? Oh, I’m fine.” She glanced down at herself. One foot was in the mud, the other almost as dirty. Her wet and stretched dress flapped in the cold wind. The color from the fabric was bleeding into her white silk T-top. The damp material clung to her chest, outlining her rather pitiful curves. So much for swelling. No one would notice, much less be impressed, she thought, remembering the generous curves of Austin’s redhead.

“I think I lost my shoe,” she said, pointing to a lump in the mud.

In the distance there was a flash of lightning. “The storm is getting worse,” he said. “I can’t get the car loose. Kyle’s borrowed my truck, and I don’t think my car is going to have any better luck in this mud. Come on up to my place and we’ll call a tow truck.”

“I don’t want to be any trouble.”

He smiled again. Her heart beat faster inside her chest. “It’s a little too late for that.”

He released her and bent over to dig through the mud for her shoe. When he’d retrieved the ruined flat, he handed it to her. She took it and stared at the coated leather. It would never be the same again. The fitting end to a lousy week.

He started walking toward an enormous barnlike structure partially concealed by a grove of Chinese maple trees. He didn’t bother to look back to see if she followed. She limped along with one shoe on and one shoe off. Thank goodness they were flats. The rain increased its intensity, turning from a steady sprinkle into a downpour again. The temperature seemed to drop considerably, too.

When they reached the brick-bordered cement path, it was easier to keep up with his long-legged stride. Her lone shoe made a squishy noise with each step. Her wet hair flapped in her face. She pulled off her velvet headband and saw it was ruined along with everything else she was wearing. Why hadn’t she grabbed an umbrella before she left? No, she thought, shaking her head. That would have required a brain—something she didn’t seem to have when it came to Austin.

She glanced at the clipped grass stretching out on both sides of the path, then at the slabs of cement. At anything but the tall, dark and very appealing male specimen right in front of her. It didn’t work. Again and again her gaze was drawn back to him.

He walked with an easy loose-hipped grace. His arms swung with each stride. Despite her bedraggled appearance, she couldn’t help thinking that if she hurried and caught up with him, their arms might brush and then she—

Stop it! she commanded herself. This was insane. And embarrassing. She was here on a mission and she couldn’t forget that. Still, his scent drifted to her and made her think about tangled sheets and bare skin and—

“Oh, my,” she whispered, trying to ignore the heat suddenly blossoming in her belly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, stopping and turning toward her.

She almost plowed into him. As it was, she skidded to a stop, the big toe of her one bare foot jabbing painfully into the concrete. “Nothing,” she said through gritted teeth, fighting the urge to grab her toe and hop on one foot until the pain faded.

He glanced down at her. She stood five feet eight inches in her stockinged feet. The low shoe gave her a half inch more. She stood eye to eye with a lot of men. Austin topped her by a good seven inches.

“You are the most peculiar woman,” he said, then turned away and crossed the last few feet to the door of the barn.

Great, she thought, grumbling. Peculiar. That was romantic. Peculiar. When she wanted to be beautiful, witty, curvaceous, intoxicating. She shrugged. She was never going to be any of those things. Her destiny was to be ordinary. That was the reason Rod Dowell had never noticed her and Austin wouldn’t, either. She was the girl next door. Wholesome, innocent, ordinary. Like milk. People took it and her for granted. She wanted to be the dash of cognac at the end of a perfect evening. Instead, she was reserved for pouring over breakfast cereal. It wasn’t fair.

Austin cleared his throat. She looked up and saw he was holding open the door, obviously waiting for her to step inside. She ducked in, careful not to slap his legs with the hem of her soggy dress.

The foyer was a small room with no furniture. A big metal door with a window in the top half led to what looked like a large machine shop and laboratory. To the left, stairs curved up to the second floor.

“Up there,” he said, pointing to the stairs.

“Up there?” She swallowed.

“Only if you want to get dry.”

“Oh. Sure. Thanks.”

He lived up there. Alone. Except for the occasional female visitor. Like the redhead.

It wasn’t that Rebecca went out of her way to learn things about Austin. She might have a crush on him, but she wasn’t completely nuts. Still, people talked, especially about him. No matter how much she tried to slip away or tell herself not to listen, she always heard things, and remembered them.

She gripped the metal railing and started to climb. She could feel the moisture rolling off her and dripping on the stairs. Her footsteps sounded uneven, the clunk of her shoe, the silence of her bare foot.

He was right behind her. She could feel his gaze on her back, heating her. Was he staring at her the way she’d stared at him? Foolish to think he might. He probably barely realized she was female.

At the top of the stairs, she stepped onto a hardwood floor. Her first impression was of space, light and warmth. The living quarters covered the entire loft of the barn. There were no separate rooms; areas flowed into each other.

Eight-foot-high windows added to the feeling of openness in the cavernous room. Two overstuffed couches cordoned off an area to form a living room. Entertainment equipment provided a divider between that room and the kitchen. A king-size bed with—she gulped—a black satin comforter lined up against the opposite wall.

She stared at it, stunned, then grinned. Now she had a new element to add to her fantasies. Black satin. Who would have guessed?

The only walled room was at the far end of the loft. Through the open door she saw the sink and tub of the bathroom. The temperature in the loft was pleasant after the chill of the rain.

A brilliant flash of light cut through the late afternoon. On its heels, thunder boomed, shaking the building. Rebecca jumped and grabbed for the railing. Instead of cold metal, her fingers encountered warm skin.

Before she could pull back, he caught her hand in his. “Are you afraid of the storm?” he asked, his voice quiet after the thunder.

She started shaking. It had very little to do with her body temperature and her damp clothes, and everything to do with his closeness. “A little,” she murmured.

Their gazes locked. Gray irises darkened like the coming of night. He gave away nothing, no emotions, no thoughts. It was like staring into the storm itself and only being able to imagine the destruction. His fingers slipped between hers and he tugged her closer to him. Her bare foot rested against the edge of his cowboy boots.

“Don’t be afraid.” He reached up. With his free hand he brushed the moisture from one cheek.

The tender gesture, so incongruous when compared to his reputation, made her want to snuggle against him.

“I have a lightning rod on the other side of the house. We’re perfectly safe.”

She blinked. So much for a romantic moment. “Gee, thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Stay right there, and I’ll go get some towels.”

“Towels?” she echoed.

He was already walking toward a large armoire on the far side of the bed.

“To dry off. You’ll probably want to get out of those wet things. I’ll call for a tow truck, but it may take a while.”

“You want me to take off my clothes?”

He opened the armoire and pulled out an armful of fluffy towels. “You are dripping on my floor.”

She glanced down, but the puddle beneath her made little sense. Naked. She was going to be naked in Austin Lucas’s house. Her. Little Miss Ordinary was going to spend the afternoon naked with the devil. She didn’t know whether to laugh out loud or run for the door.

“Rebecca?”

She stared at him, trying to focus. “Yes?”

“Are you sure you’re okay? You didn’t fall and hit your head or anything, did you?”

No, I’m just naturally stupid around you, she thought, knowing she could never admit that aloud. “I’m a little tired,” she said, then realized it was the truth. This had been the longest and worst week of her life.

He moved from the armoire to a closet concealed in the wall. With a push of his hand, a hidden door swung open. He reached inside and pulled out a white terry-cloth robe, then started walking toward her.

She held her breath. When he was standing in front of her, he handed her everything. She glanced at the robe. It looked new. As if to confirm her guess, he reached for a sleeve and pulled off a tag dangling from one end.

“A gift from a friend,” he said by way of explanation.

A woman friend, who else? She found it hard to believe a guy would give another guy a bathrobe. No, some foolish female had bought this for Austin expecting him to wear it and think of her.

“The bathroom is through there,” he said, pointing to the half-open door at the end of the loft. “You look cold. Maybe you should take a hot shower to warm up.”

Maybe you could kiss me and warm me up.

Rebecca felt her eyes widen in panic. Oh, please, God, let me not have spoken that thought aloud. She held her breath and waited.

Austin’s eyes gave nothing away, and the expression on his face didn’t change at all. Slowly she let her breath out. She’d only thought it. Danger. The man was pure danger.

“Thanks for everything,” she said. “I didn’t mean to be such a bother.”

His gaze flickered over her face. “No problem. While you’re taking a shower, I’ll call for a tow. Then you can tell me what brought you out here in the first place.”

She nodded and continued to stare at his face. She wanted to see him smile again, but she couldn’t think of anything funny to say.

She felt a little push on her back, as if he was urging her to get on her way. She took one step, then another, heading for the bathroom. This was really happening to her. She was actually in his house. Austin’s house. No one would believe this. Of course she wasn’t going to tell anyone. Okay, maybe Travis and Elizabeth. She sighed and hugged the towels close to her chest. Maybe not even them. It was all too wonderful, too precious. A dream come true.

As she reached the bathroom door, her memory kicked in. Austin had said he didn’t know why she’d come by. In her stupor, she’d forgotten to tell him the reason for her visit. She shook her head.

“I can’t believe I didn’t tell you why I stopped by,” she said, turning back toward the center of the room. “I’m sure you heard that—”

She stopped in midsentence and stared. Austin stood beside the large bed. He’d already stripped off his shirt and was in the process of unbuttoning his wet jeans. As she looked at him, his hands slowed. His chest was bare, gleaming in the dim afternoon light. Her gaze followed the sprinkling of hair on his chest as it arrowed down to the open waistband of his worn jeans. From where she was standing, it didn’t look as if he was wearing anything underneath them.

She swallowed hard and tried to speak. Nothing. She urged herself to turn and keep walking toward the bathroom, but her feet wouldn’t budge. It would have taken an act of God to move her, and everyone knew Austin Lucas was only the devil.

Chapter 2

Rebecca looked as stunned as a doe caught in headlights and as wet as a drowned rat. Her long dark hair hung in wet curls, draping over her shoulders and dripping onto the floor. She opened her mouth to speak. No sound came out. She tried again, made a squeaking noise, then fled into the bathroom. The door slammed shut behind her.

Austin chuckled. He finished stripping off his wet jeans and tossed them onto the floor. He reached into the closet and pulled out another pair. He’d barely stepped into the first leg when he heard a loud shriek from the bathroom. After dropping his jeans, he sprinted to the door and knocked.

“Rebecca? What happened?”

There was a low moan from the other side of the door.

“Rebecca? Damn it, open up. Did you hurt yourself?”

“No. I just…”

He heard footsteps and the door opened a crack. He could see part of her face and one brown eye. Mascara collected under her lower lashes. Any color on her face had long been washed away. Her dress hung damply from her shoulders. She was a mess. The one eye he could see closed briefly.

“I just saw myself in the mirror. Now I know why you were smiling so much.”

The tension left his body. “Oh, that.”

Her eye opened. “Yeah, that. I’ll just be a minute here, while I try to repair the damage.”

“Take your time.”

“I’m going to need it,” she mumbled.

Her gaze drifted down from his face to his chest, then lower. She blinked and her eye got bigger. At that moment he realized he’d dropped the dry jeans he’d been pulling on. Her gasp was audible.

“I… I… Oh, heaven help me!” The door slammed shut.

Austin shook his head and headed back across the room. He couldn’t have been the first naked man she’d ever seen, but she’d been staring as if he was. He slipped into his jeans and buttoned the fly, then grabbed a shirt and shrugged it on. He didn’t bother fastening it.

His bare feet slapped against the hardwood floor as he made his way to the kitchen and started coffee. He rummaged around in a bottom cupboard until he found a bottle of whiskey, then poured a half inch into both coffee cups. If nothing else, the liquor would chase away the rest of her chill.

The sound of the storm increased. Bolts of lightning arced across the darkening sky. Rumbles of thunder shook the building. He stared out the window at the rain and the flashes of light. Behind him he could hear the gurgle of the coffeepot and the faint sound of the shower. He tried not to picture the woman standing under the warm spray or the way she would slowly lather her slender body.

He rubbed his hand over his face, but the action did nothing to chase away the tiredness. He’d been tired for days now, but he knew it had nothing to do with the hours he was putting in. Everything was changing and he didn’t know how to make it stop.

The coffeepot gave a last hiss and then was silent. Pipes rattled as the shower was turned off. He stepped back and leaned against the kitchen counter, watching the door. He knew she would come out eventually. He also knew exactly how she would look, swimming in his oversize bathrobe. Her skin would be pale, her eyes large and questioning, her hair a damp mantle of silk. She would look at him and blush, then stare at the ground. He would be torn between telling her she was in no mortal danger and wanting to make every one of her ridiculous fantasies come true.

Rebecca Chambers had a crush on him. It had been obvious from their second meeting when she’d managed to spill an entire pitcher of water at dinner one evening. He’d just dropped by to give Travis a message. Rebecca had been there, wearing one of her flowing floral-print dresses. With her loose clothing and headbands holding her curly dark hair off her face, she reminded him of a schoolgirl out of uniform for the day.

He knew she wasn’t a girl, but it was easier to think of her that way. Safer. She wasn’t for him.

It took another ten minutes, but at last the bathroom door opened a crack. He thought about calling out that he wasn’t naked anymore but didn’t. She had enough backbone for three warriors; she just hadn’t figured it out yet. Besides, he liked teasing her and watching her blush. It was about the only innocent pleasure he had in his life.

One bare foot eased out of the open door. He glanced at the pale skin and trim ankle. His muscles tensed as a familiar heaviness filled his groin. The dim light would make his condition harder for her to discern. Just as well—for both of them. If she kept on blushing around him, her face would be permanently red. If she didn’t blush, he would be tempted to do exactly what she’d been thinking about.

She took another step and this time cleared the bathroom door. She looked exactly as he had pictured, all soft and pale, overwhelmed by his robe. She’d rolled up the sleeves a couple of times so they only hung to her knuckles. The knotted belt trailed almost to her knees.

“Do you want some coffee?” he asked, raising a mug.

Her head jerked toward him. She’d washed away the rest of her makeup, and without cosmetics, she looked about seventeen. Her mouth was well shaped, slightly wide and normally tilting up at the corners. Now it twisted down on one side as she nibbled her lower lip.

Her hair fanned out over her shoulders just as he’d pictured it. A flash of heat seared through his belly. For that second he wished she was like the widow in the next town. Jasmine visited him a couple of times a week. She was rich, lonely and bored. They made hot and fast love, seeking mutual release and no commitment. It had been easy to be with her, and easy to let her go. Three months before, they’d decided to end the affair. He didn’t miss her, but parts of him missed her body. It would be a mistake to start something like that with Rebecca, even if her slender shape, so different from Jasmine’s lushness, taunted him. Rebecca would be long and lean, a wildcat, he suspected. It was the innocence in her eyes that kept him from finding out.

“Coffee would be nice,” she said, her voice low and steady. She took a step toward him, then paused.

He turned his back to her and poured the steaming liquid into both mugs. “Cream, sugar?”

“Cream,” she said, sounding a little closer.

He grabbed a small carton from the fridge, added a splash then picked up the mug and held it out. She crossed the hardwood floor and took it.

“Thanks. I’m sorry to be such a bother. Dripping all over everything. Thanks for the robe. I’m sure my clothes will dry quickly and then I can be on my way. Except for the car. But you said you’d call for a tow truck. I guess that’ll take a little while, what with the weather and all. I really appreciate—”

“Rebecca?” Slowly, so as not to alarm her, he turned toward her and leaned against the counter.

She stopped chattering and glanced at him. Her eyes were dark and wide, her face flushed with embarrassment. “Yes?”

“You’re babbling.”

The flush deepened. “I know. I’m nervous.”

“Don’t be.” He reached over past her to the phone mounted on the wall. He drew the receiver to his ear and listened to the silence. Grimacing, he set it back in place, then motioned for her to follow him.

“What is it?” she asked, trailing behind him as he headed for the living area.

“Phone’s out. Usually happens during bad weather.”

“You can’t call the tow truck?”

The panic in her voice almost made him smile. Almost. He didn’t necessarily like scaring her, even if it wasn’t a bad idea. Maybe if she was scared enough she would stop looking at him as if she’d already imagined them together in bed.

He sat in the single chair opposite the sofa and set his mug of coffee on the upturned crate that served as an end table. She slowly lowered herself to the middle of the couch. The oversize cushions threatened to swallow her whole.

“If I don’t lose power, they should get the phone working in a couple of hours,” he said, reaching over and clicking on a floor lamp.

She clutched the mug tighter. “And if you do lose power?”

“It means the whole line is down, and you’ll be stuck here until tomorrow.”

Her mouth opened to form a perfect O but she made no sound.

“I promise I don’t bite,” he said, leaning back in the chair.

“I know.” She sighed, sounding disappointed.

Lightning flashed outside the windows, and thunder filled the room. Rebecca flinched at the loud noise, then took a big gulp of coffee. She sucked in a breath, then coughed. “There’s liquor in this!”

“So?”

She raised her eyebrows and looked at him as if he’d just suggested they take a naked stroll through the local church. “What do you think you’re doing by serving liquor?”

“My mistake. I could have sworn you were over twenty-one. At least twenty-two.”

She straightened in her seat and glared at him. The gold tones of the sofa contrasted with the pristine white of the borrowed robe and the dark brilliance of her curly hair. “I’ll have you know I’m twenty-nine, but that isn’t the point.”

“What is?” he asked mildly, his calm voice a contrast to her shrill tones.

“That I…that you…” She drew a deep breath, then sagged back against the cushions. “You could have warned me.”

“I thought it might warm you from the inside.”

Like electricity seeking a conductor, her gaze sought his mouth. Oh, no. He knew exactly what she was thinking, damn her innocent little hide. He told himself she was a fool. He told himself to ignore her. It didn’t help. He could practically taste her. His heartbeat quickened and his blood flowed hotter.

She sipped her coffee, never taking her gaze from him. Most of the time he found her feelings for him faintly amusing. From a distance she was easy to take. But here, in the close confines of his loft, with the storm cutting them off from the rest of the world, it would be far too simple to take her up on her offer.

He eyed her relaxed posture and the way his robe had slipped off one of her knees, baring her calf and part of her thigh. Her skin looked smooth. He knew it would be warm to the touch, soft and supple.

He forced himself to look away and concentrate on the facts. One, she was a friend of Travis and Elizabeth’s. He wouldn’t hurt either of them for anything, and dallying with Rebecca was bound to upset them. Two, she wasn’t his type. At twenty-nine she’d probably been involved with men before, but not men like him. He knew that. There was something about him. He didn’t know if it was his money or his desire to stand outside and observe without always participating, but women seemed to find him attractive. The invitations came fast and furious. He was always careful about which ones he accepted. The rules of the game were simple—no emotional involvement, no promises, no commitment. He glanced back at his guest. Rebecca Chambers and those like her played for keeps.

“Austin, I—”

“Don’t worry about it, honey. Just tell me why you’re here.”

Her eyebrows drew together in a delicate frown. She reminded him of a porcelain doll come to life. He would do well to keep thinking of her as off-limits, he told himself as the collar of her robe parted slightly, allowing him a view of her pale throat.

“Because of the fire.”

“Fire?” He jerked his thoughts back from their erotic journey and concentrated on what she was saying.

“The one in town a few days ago. I’m sure you heard about it.”

“Just that a couple of old buildings burned down.” He shrugged. “I’ve been working hard this week, and I haven’t been to town.”

“Oh.”

She took another sip of her coffee, then set the mug on the table in front of her. As she bent forward, the robe gaped more, allowing him to see down the front. She had a small build, but the shape of her breasts was perfect. Creamy ivory crested in coral. His mouth grew dry. He clenched his hands into fists and wished to hell she would stay upright.

“The children’s home burned down.”

“What?” He sprang to his feet. “Is everyone all right?”

“We’re fine. We were lucky. It was during the day. The older kids were at school and the younger ones were at the park playing. No one was there, so there weren’t any injuries. But we lost the whole building. All our supplies, the kids’ toys, everything.”

“It’s gone?” He stalked over to the large window taking up most of one living room wall. He didn’t even have to close his eyes to picture the old two-story building. It had been built sometime in the thirties. Most of the bigger rooms had murals. He’d often stood for hours studying those paintings, wondering who the people in the pictures were and what the artists had been thinking as they’d painstakingly worked their art.

He reached the window and braced his hands on the sill. He could feel the chill of the wind and the dampness from the storm. A large bolt of lightning flashed across the sky and the lights in the room flickered.

“Austin?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you all right?”

“What?” He inhaled sharply, as if he could still smell the odors of stew, old athletic shoes and baby powder. “Yeah. I’m just surprised.”

“I didn’t know you had a connection with the children’s home.”

He heard her bare feet on the floor as she walked toward him. He didn’t turn around, but continued to stare out in the darkening afternoon and the rain pouring down. “I lived there for a couple of years.”

He glanced down at her. She stood next to him, staring up. Her mouth hung open. She closed it slowly and didn’t say anything, but he could see the questions in her brown eyes. If he told her the whole story, she’d get all compassionate and misty-eyed. It happened to women all the time. Occasionally he used the story to his advantage, but not today. Not with Rebecca. He didn’t want to encourage her. Not because he wasn’t interested, but because he was.

“You’re an orphan?” she asked, her voice low and sympathetic.

“Not exactly.”

“Then why were you in the home?”

He didn’t answer. He stared down at her, knowing he was giving her what Jasmine had laughingly called the ice glare. She hadn’t been intimidated by it because she hadn’t been involved enough to care. Rebecca swallowed hard as his expression became more forbidding. She looked away and folded her hands together in front of her waist.

He felt as if he’d just kicked a kitten and had to fight the urge to apologize. Damn. What was wrong with him? Why was she getting to him? Was it the unexpected desire he felt when he looked at her? Or was it something more ominous? A whisper of envy for the innocence in her face. The knowledge that he had never been that open to the world, not even when he was a child. Life had taught them very different lessons. He’d always known he wasn’t like everyone else. He’d accepted that fact, had even been proud of it. Until about a year ago, when he’d awakened to the realization that he would always be alone.

“You don’t want to talk about it,” she said, brushing a strand of hair off her face and turning away. Her shoulders slumped.

He swore under his breath. Why did she have to be so easy to read?

“I was transferred there from another home. I was a troublemaker when I was a kid.”

She looked back at him and gave him a sweet smile. “That I believe.”

“I’d hated where I’d been and I’d planned to hate this place. Then at school I met Travis and his brothers. They sort of changed everything for me.”

“I’ve always wondered how the two of you became friends. You seem so different.”

He raised his eyebrows. “In what way?”

She leaned against the wall and tucked her hands in the small of her back. “He’s so open and friendly. Always good for a laugh. And you’re…” She stopped talking and looked up at him. “What I meant to say is that you’re…”

“Yes?” He folded his arms.

Her breathing increased, and with it the rise and fall of her chest. The thick robe parted slightly, exposing her neck and the hollow of her throat. It shouldn’t have been provocative, but the sight of her bare skin made him want to move close to her and touch and taste every inch of her body. He shifted so the natural reactions to his thoughts would be less obvious.

“You’re different,” she said at last. “How exactly did you meet Travis?”

“I tried to beat him up.”

“What?”

He grinned at the memory. “We were both in the eighth grade. I think I’d been in school about two days and I’d already been in four fights. Travis said something about me being a bully. I turned on him. What I didn’t know at the time was that if you mess with one Haynes brother, you mess with all of them. The other three came running, ready to take apart my hide.”

“What happened?”

“I was ready to get the—” he glanced at her “—living daylights out of me, when Travis did the damnedest thing. He took my side against his brothers. They wouldn’t fight him. Then the vice principal showed up and they all defended me.”

“And you’ve been friends ever since,” she said, staring straight ahead with a dreamy expression in her eyes. “That’s a lovely story. Travis must have seen that you were just a scared and lonely little boy.”

Austin was torn between a desire to frighten her back into being afraid of him and surprise that she’d figured out the truth. That was exactly what Travis had seen. Funny, he’d never told anyone that before. But his relationship with Travis and his brothers had been the reason he’d returned to Glenwood. This was the only place he’d ever liked well enough to stay for more than a few months at a time.

“Yeah, well, it was a long time ago.” He pushed off the windowsill and walked over to a desk in the corner by the stairs. “What’s going on with the children’s home? Do you need money?” He opened the top drawer and pulled out a checkbook. “Is that why you came to see me?”

“Not exactly.”

He’d picked up a pen, but now he put it down. Rebecca crossed the room and stopped behind the wing chair he’d been sitting in. She rested her hands on the high back and gripped the fabric. The lights flickered again; the sounds of the storm increased. He could hear the rumble of thunder and the pounding of the rain on the windows.

He would have given his soul to see her slip the robe off her shoulders and walk into his arms. The corner of his mouth quirked up. He didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of that happening. She might have a crush on him, but she wasn’t about to throw herself at him. Just as well. He would have a hard time refusing that kind of invitation.

He studied her face, the high cheekbones, the wide mouth, and tried to figure out what it was about her that made him want to break all his rules. Some of it was her crush. It was tough not to be flattered when a woman like her acted like a fool in his presence. Normally women fawning over him made him uncomfortable enough to start checking for the closest exit. But Rebecca was different. Maybe it was because she watched him with such adoration. Ironically it was her high ideals that would keep her safe from him. There was just enough decency left in him not to want to destroy her false image. If Rebecca Chambers knew the truth about him, she would run screaming in the opposite direction.

He was doing her a favor by keeping the truth a secret. He ignored the voice inside that whispered he might not just be doing it for her. That maybe he had something to gain. Maybe her blushes and stammerings and long glances fed some empty, almost dead part of his useless heart.

She raised her hands and grabbed her hair, pulled it back into a ponytail, then released the long curls. She was a fairy-tale princess, he thought, then scoffed at his own fancy. Get real, Lucas, he told himself.

“I need your house,” she said, and drew a deep breath as if preparing to deliver a long speech. “Oh, God, I know what you’re thinking. It’s too much to ask. I wouldn’t ask you except I’ve been everywhere else. I have twenty kids sleeping in the school auditorium, but they can’t stay there indefinitely. The state has assured me I’ll have money to build a new facility, but in the meantime, I’m on my own. Travis suggested I see you. He said there’s an empty house on your property that’d be big enough. We wouldn’t be a bother.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

She took a step closer. Her hands twisted together, the fingers lacing and unlacing. “Oh, Austin, you’re my last hope. I’ve checked around town. The problem is I don’t have any money. I have some, but I need to replace food and clothing and toys. People in town have been great, but it’s not enough. We’d only need the house for about three months.” She grimaced. “Gosh, that sounds so long. I could split the kids up, but I hate to do that. David is just seven. His parents and older sister were killed in a car crash. He’s pretty normal, considering what’s happened to him. He talks and still does his schoolwork. But he can’t seem to make friends. He stands outside all the games the other children play. He watches them. Even when they invite him, he won’t join in. It’s been six weeks since the accident.”

She rubbed her palms together, then held out her hands pleadingly. “He has relatives, but they’re too busy fighting over the estate to care about a seven-year-old boy. The deal they’ve all worked out is whoever gets control of the money is willing to be stuck with the kid.” She shook her head. “Stuck. He’s sweet and funny and very bright. If I can find a family willing to adopt him, I’ll petition the court for custody. In the meantime, we’re the only family he has.”

He tried not to think about the lost boy, but deep in his chest he felt a familiar ache. “Rebecca, I don’t see—”

“Then I have to make you see.” Her voice became husky. “Oh, Austin, there are so many children. There are the twins. They’ve been abandoned by their alcoholic grandmother. And Melanie, she’s just f-five.” Her voice cracked. “Her uncle… His older brothers had done bad things to him, so he took it out on Melanie. The doctor’s aren’t sure if she’ll ever be able to have children.”

He cursed under his breath and stood up. In three strides he was standing directly in front of her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and shook her gently.

“Hush, Rebecca. It’s okay. What I started to say is that I don’t think it’s going to be a problem. You’re welcome to the house. For as long as you need it.”

She blinked several times and he realized she was fighting tears. Through the thick layer of the robe, he could feel her slender shoulders tremble. There were dark circles under her eyes and lines of weariness around her mouth.

“Really?” she asked.

“Really. Have you been handling all of this alone?”

She nodded. Her head dipped toward her chest. “I haven’t hired a new assistant since Elizabeth went on maternity leave.” She sniffed, then raised her head. Her smile was a little shaky, but it hit him like a right hook to the jaw. “I can’t tell you what this means to us.”

He released her and stepped back. Great. He’d just gone up three points in her estimation. He didn’t need to fuel her case of hero worship.

“It’s nothing,” he said, flicking his hand dismissively. “The house is empty. You’ll have to rent some beds and stuff. I’ll pick up the tab for that.”

When her big eyes got bigger, he grimaced. “I’m not doing this for you, Rebecca,” he said bluntly. “I’m doing it for the kids and because the people who ran the home were good to me when I stayed there. This isn’t anything but a business deal. I’m paying an old debt. Don’t make it more than it is.”

Judging by the light in her eyes, he hadn’t made his point well enough.

“This is wonderful!” she said. She tugged on the belt around her waist. “I was so afraid of what would happen if you’d said no.” She laughed. “I can’t tell you how uncomfortable it is sleeping in a cot in the elementary-school auditorium.”

“Why have you been staying there?”

“I lost my night supervisor, and I haven’t been able to hire someone to replace her. About a month ago, I moved into the home. It was easier.”

“You lost everything in the fire, too.” It wasn’t a question.

“Not everything, exactly. I had some stuff in storage.”

He wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her until all the bad things went away. He wanted to hit the stairs running and never look back. “Saint Rebecca,” he muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head. “Let me guess. You’ve been doing this all by yourself. Coordinating where the kids are going to stay temporarily, finding a new place, collecting clothes.”

“You sound as if I’ve done something wrong. The children are my responsibility.”

He felt old and tired, and far too cynical to spend time with someone like her. In his ugly little world, very few people went out of their way to do more than they had to. He was as guilty as the rest of them. It was easier to stay detached that way. Easier to forget why he couldn’t get involved.

“Did I say something to offend you?” she asked.

He looked at her, at the long dark hair, at her big eyes and the trembling set of her mouth. From the top of her head down to her unpainted toenails, she was alien to him.

He leaned toward her and slipped his hand over her shoulder to the nape of her neck. She stiffened but didn’t move. Despite her recent shower, he could smell the sweet scent of her body. It reminded him of vanilla and sunshine, nothing like the musky Oriental fragrances his lovers normally favored.

Her skin was as smooth and warm as he’d imagined. His thumb traced a pattern on her spine, then he curled his fingers into her hair. Her expression held no fear, only faint anticipation and a trusting calm that made him want to bellow with impatience.

“Who the hell are you, Rebecca Chambers?” he asked. “What are you doing in my life?”

“I don’t know how to answer that,” she whispered.

His other hand reached for the collar of the robe. It would be so easy to grab the thick material and jerk it open, exposing her to his gaze. Would she fight him or submit willingly?

He touched the terry cloth, moving back and forth, but didn’t go near her skin.

“Have you ever gotten a ticket?” he asked.

She nodded. “I forgot to put enough change in the meter.”

A parking ticket. He almost groaned. “Ever been really stone-face drunk?”

“No.”

“Had sex with a stranger?”

She blushed and shook her head. Her eyes never left his. He saw the flash of fear, but it was gone before he could feed it.

“Have you ever, in your entire life, done anything bad?”

Her gaze dropped to his mouth, then to the floor. “No.”

He released her and stalked away. Figures.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“To call the tow truck and get you the hell out of here.”

There was a brilliant flash of lightning, followed by a boom of thunder. The building shook as if God had reached down and bumped it. The lights inside flickered once, twice, then exploded into darkness. He stumbled into an end table and swore. If the power was out, the phone lines were down for the night. He was stuck here. And so was she.

Chapter 3

“Are you all right?” Rebecca asked as Austin stumbled in the darkness.

His answer was a mumbled curse.

She stood where he’d left her, in the middle of his living room. Her heart was still pounding in her chest, and her knees felt weak.

He’d touched her. Even thinking about his brief caress sent the blood racing through her veins. His hand on the back of her neck had been hot and hard. He’d stared at her as if he wanted to devour her for dinner, then dish up the remains for breakfast. She wasn’t sure she would have refused him.

Even though it was dark and there was no one to see her blush, she covered her cheeks with her palms. How could she think that about him? A crush was one thing, but casual sex with a man she barely knew was something quite different. Oh sure, she’d thought about making love with Austin hundreds of times. But thinking and doing were two different things…weren’t they?

Have you ever had sex with a stranger?

He would never know the images his question had evoked. She’d already seen Austin naked, so it wasn’t difficult to picture him aroused. His body had been all that she’d imagined. Before she’d slammed the bathroom door shut, she’d seen his long, powerful legs, the breadth and definition of his chest. Between his thighs she’d seen dark curls and his…his organ!

In all her twenty-nine years, she’d only ever seen one other man naked. Wayne had been blond and built like a bear, all thick limbs and barrel-chested. He’d been an all-American linebacker at college their senior year. Everything about him was so different from Austin’s lean grace, and dark, demonic, good looks.

Wayne had been someone she’d laughed with, someone who had grown up with the same rules and goals as she had. Wayne had understood about values, about the importance of other people’s feelings. Wayne had been warm and sensitive.

Austin was none of those things. He was a loner. She’d always wondered about his past, but she’d never thought he would have lived in the Glenwood children’s home. She’d heard that he’d been wild as a teenager, breaking rules and the law, getting into trouble. Even now he lived up to his reputation. Between his self-made fortune, his gold earring and his women, he flouted the conventions of their small town. He was nothing like Wayne, nothing like herself. So why couldn’t she stop thinking about him?

The sun had set behind the clouds, taking away the last of the light. From another part of the loft, drawers were being opened and slammed shut. After several minutes she heard the scratch of a match, then a weak flicker of light danced off the far wall.

“You might as well come into the kitchen,” Austin called out. “I don’t have enough candles for the whole place. Can you see your way?”

“I’m fine,” she said, and wondered if she had the courage to take him up on his less than gracious invitation. She’d hoped he found her at least slightly attractive. But her answers to his questions had pointed out to both of them that she was far from his type. A man with a reputation of being the devil himself wouldn’t be interested in a woman like her.

She walked around the wing chair and toward the light. Austin stood by the phone, staring at the receiver. He banged it once against the wall and listened. Then he slammed it back in place.

“The line’s out.”

“I figured as much,” she said.

He planted his hands on his hips and stared at her. “Looks like you’re stuck with me for the night.”

I don’t mind.

She didn’t say the words, but she must have thought them pretty loudly because Austin stiffened, raising his head slightly and staring at her. He reminded her of a wildcat catching scent of its prey.

Squat candles sat in saucers around the kitchen and on the butcher-block table. The flames danced in time to a rhythm she could neither feel nor hear. The storm raged around them, but for once she wasn’t afraid of the lightning or the thunder. It was as if the rest of the world had ceased to exist. She was alone with this man. Time had disappeared, along with common sense. She had this night. Ignoring the fact that she was naked under his robe and feeling extremely vulnerable, she balled her hands into fists and promised herself not to waste it.

“Are you hungry—”

“Would you like me to fix—”

They spoke at the same time. Austin recovered first. “Are you hungry?”

“A little. I could fix something, if you’d like. Is the stove gas or electric?”

He turned to glance at the range set into a granite counter. “The starters are electric, but the unit is gas.”

“No problem. If you have another match, I can start it manually.” She spoke briskly and walked over to the refrigerator. After pulling it open, she glanced at the contents. “What sounds good? There are a couple of steaks, some salad, a—”

Something warm brushed the back of her hand. She gasped and jumped back. The refrigerator door slowly swung shut.

Austin stood close enough for her to see the hairs on his chest and the slow thudding pulse at the base of his neck. She had the most incredible urge to plant her mouth there and taste his skin.

She bit down hard on her lower lip to keep from yelping her embarrassment. What on earth was wrong with her? She hadn’t had more than a sip of his doctored coffee, so it couldn’t be the alcohol. Maybe standing out in the rain had left her brain waterlogged.

“You don’t have to cook for me,” he said.

“I don’t mind. It’s the least I can do after all the trouble I’ve been.”

“Far be it from me to interfere with a woman on a mission of mercy.” He stepped back and motioned to the refrigerator. “Help yourself.”

She worked quickly and efficiently. He directed her when she needed to find a bowl or a pot, and within twenty minutes they were eating dinner.

While she’d been cooking the steak, Austin had set the table and opened a bottle of red wine. She sipped cautiously, not wanting the wine to loosen her tongue. She was already in too much danger of saying something stupid. Heaven knows what would happen if she got drunk!

They chatted about mutual acquaintances in town and the children. She forced herself to concentrate on his words, rather than on the way the candlelight made his skin glow like burnished gold. He’d pulled on a shirt, but hadn’t bothered to fasten it. She didn’t want to say anything and have him do up the buttons, but it was hard not to stare.

“What about you?” he asked, pouring her another glass of wine. “Why are you taking care of other people’s children, instead of having a half dozen of your own?”

“What makes you think I want children?”

He raised one eyebrow. Gosh, she really wanted to know how he managed to do that. The storm had decreased in fury, but the lights hadn’t come back on yet. The candlelight slipped shadows across his face, making his expression impossible to read.

“You’re the type,” he said. “Are you telling me you don’t?”

“I do.” She pushed her fork around her plate. “It just hasn’t worked out that way.”

“Still waiting for Mr. Right?”

For the first time that day, she could meet his gaze without thinking anything improper. She shook her head. “Not exactly. Mr. Right died.”

He’d raised the wineglass to his lips, but now he set it down untasted. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. It’s been a while, so I’ve recovered. I’ll never forget him, of course. Wayne was—” she smiled “—nothing like you.”

“I’m not surprised.” His expression was unreadable.

“I don’t mean that in a bad way.”

“I never thought you did.”

She wasn’t sure if he was angry or simply making conversation. It was easier to assume the latter. “Wayne and I met in college. He was bright, funny. He looked like a big blond bear, but he was sweet and gentle. We got engaged, but I wanted to put off the wedding until I had my masters degree. We’d set the date and everything, but three months before the wedding, he was in a bad car accident. A year later he died.”

“Must have been hard on you.”

A polite remark most people made. Funny, but she had the feeling Austin really meant it. “It was. About a year and a half after I lost him, I moved here. Like I said, I’ll never forget him, but it’s getting easier.”

Most of the time. Without wanting to she remembered the way Wayne had looked in his hospital room and the expression on his face when the doctor had told him he would never walk again, would never do all the physical things he’d so loved. She remembered his pain when the doctor had gently explained he would never be “a man” again. Wayne hadn’t been able to meet her eyes. He’d never cried in her presence, but she’d shed enough tears for the both of them.

It was her greatest regret, she acknowledged to herself. She would have married Wayne, anyway, and had that last year together, but he didn’t want to. He told her he wouldn’t saddle her with someone who was less than a man. He’d sounded so bitter that she’d never brought up the subject again. But it had lingered in that hospital room like an unwelcome third party. He’d never said the words, but she knew he blamed her.

It was her fault. She’d been the one to hold back. While they’d dated and been engaged, they’d played and loved like any young couple, but they’d put off going all the way until they were married. Because she’d asked him to. There had been so many wonderfully sensual things to do together that she hadn’t minded not consummating their love. Until it was too late and she’d found out their love would never be expressed in the ultimate act of sharing. She would never marry the man she loved, never carry his child.

All the years they’d spent together, she’d guarded her virginity, ready to give it as the most precious gift a bride could bring her husband. In the end, Wayne had died hating her for keeping herself from him. Her innocence had mocked him, reminding him of what he’d lost, of what he could never have again. It mocked her, as well. She was an anachronism. A twenty-nine-year-old virgin who had saved herself. For what? Her “gift” was a reminder of all she’d lost. It no longer had meaning. She wanted it disposed of and forgotten.

“Rebecca?”

“Hmm?” She glanced up and saw Austin staring at her. She blinked several times. “I’m sorry. I was just thinking.”

“About Wayne?”

She sighed. “Yes. It’s difficult losing someone like that. There were so many unresolved issues. I wanted to explain it all to him, but he wouldn’t listen. I can’t blame him. It was my fault.”

She stopped talking and realized Austin didn’t have a clue what she was going on about. He nodded encouragingly, giving her permission to continue, but she couldn’t. What was she supposed to say? Gee, Austin, I’m really upset because my late fiancé and I never went all the way. I’m a twenty-nine-year-old virgin and I’m sick of it. Want to help me out?

Her line of thinking should have shocked her. It didn’t. Which meant she was in more trouble than she’d thought.

She didn’t know how long she’d been quiet, but suddenly she became aware of a tension in the room. It was a subtle vibration that seemed to reach deep inside of her, warming her from the inside out, causing her pulse to quicken and her skin to tingle.

She glanced across the table and saw Austin watching her. His gray eyes glowed in the candlelight. His irises were the color of the storm. Stubble darkened his cheeks and jaw, shadowing the lines of his face, making him look more dangerous. He inhaled deeply. The slight movement caused his earring to catch the light. The gold glinted sharply, once again making her think of pirates and treasure, of captured women and forbidden love.

It was becoming difficult to breathe. She told herself it was just a foolish reaction to being in the same room with the object of her crush. Maybe it was because she’d been thinking about and missing Wayne. Or it could have been the result of her exhaustion. Since the fire, she hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep or a moment’s rest. When she hadn’t been scouting for supplies, she’d been figuring out a way to approach Austin about borrowing his house. She still found it hard to believe he’d said yes. He didn’t have to. A lot of people would have turned her away, citing problems with noise, potential destruction or insurance.

So many people nicknamed him the devil, but he’d been very nice to her. In fact—

“Stop looking at me like that,” he growled.

She stiffened, startled by the anger in his voice. “Like what?”

“Like I’m some damn noble prince riding in on a white horse. I’m not anybody’s idea of a hero, and if you think I am, then you’re worse than a fool.”

He drained the last of the wine into his glass, then slammed down the bottle. “The storm is already almost over,” he said, glaring at her. “In the morning the road will be dry enough for you to drive out of here. If not, I’ll dig out the damn car myself.”

“You swear a lot,” she said without thinking.

“You don’t swear enough.”

“I don’t swear at all.”

He grimaced. “That’s my point. We have nothing in common. I like my women experienced and easy. You’re not either.”

She was too shocked to blush. She stared at him. “Wh-what are you talking about?”

He leaned over the table far enough to grab a handful of her hair. He wrapped it around his hand twice and then pulled her close, until their mouths were millimeters apart.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Rebecca. Believe me, I, of all people, understand the appeal of what’s forbidden. But I’m one man you shouldn’t try to tame. I’m not interested.”

She flinched as if he’d slapped her. Before she could control herself, her eyes filled with tears. Her face grew hot, then cold. She tried to pull away, but he held her firmly in his grasp.

“Damn it all to hell,” he muttered. “I’m not trying to hurt you. You’re not my type. More important, I’m not yours. I’m no Wayne whatever-his-name-was who helped little old ladies cross the street. I’m a selfish bastard. And I do mean bastard, lady. In every sense of the word.”

She studied his mouth as he spoke, feeling the sweet puffs of his breath on her face. He was being cruel in a good way. She was sure in time she would be grateful. For now she just wanted to crawl under the table and die. Or have him kiss her. Despite his taunting words, her body was reacting to his closeness. She wanted to scream in frustration. She was too old to have a crush on a man.

She drew in a deep breath and gathered what little dignity and strength she had left. “Austin, I’m sorry if I offended you. I didn’t—”

She never got to finish her sentence. He pulled on her hair, dragging her that last millimeter so that their lips touched. Mouth to mouth, he held her in place, not moving, not breathing, just touching gently, firmly, erotically.

Involuntarily her eyes fluttered shut. Heat poured through her as if someone had doused her with sun-warmed rain. Her toes curled and her fingers gripped the edge of the table. When she thought she would go mad from the bliss, he moved his head slightly, brushing her lips. More heat, fiery heat, flared between them. She gasped for breath. His tongue reached out and touched the tip of hers. Before she could melt in place, he released her and rose to his feet.

She sank back in the chair and listened to the thundering of her heart. Her hands were shaking, her breasts felt inflamed, that secret place between her thighs throbbed painfully. She didn’t dare look at him. What if he hadn’t felt the same reaction?

She caught her breath. What if he had?

Without saying a word, Austin stood up and stalked across the room. He opened the armoire and pulled out a pale garment, then walked back to her.

“Here,” he said, tossing it to her.

She grabbed the item, then stared at it. A man’s T-shirt, she thought. But what—

“It should be big enough for you to wear to bed.”

She stared at him.

He cursed again. “Alone. Damn it, Rebecca, stop it. It’s late. You’re tired. You take the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch. In the morning you’ll be out of here, and we’ll pretend this never happened.”

She didn’t point out that it was still quite early. She was too curious about what the “this” they were to pretend never happened was. What had happened between them? A brief kiss? Or something she hadn’t realized? She drew her eyebrows together and wished she were a little more experienced at the whole man-woman thing.

“I don’t want to go to bed yet,” she finally blurted.

“No one is asking your opinion,” he said sharply. “You’re reacting to the situation and probably to the trauma of the fire earlier this week. It doesn’t have anything to do with me, and I’m not going to be responsible for your regrets come morning. I might be a bastard, but I’m not a complete jerk.”

Now she was really confused. She dropped the T-shirt on the table and rose to her feet. After tightening the belt of her robe, she shoved her hands into the deep pockets and looked at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. One minute we’re having a nice conversation about our lives and the next you’re kissing me, then sending me to bed.”

He circled around the table until he was standing in front of her. They stood close enough for her to feel the heat of his body. She supposed she should have been nervous or afraid, but she wasn’t. Despite what everyone said, deep inside, Austin Lucas was a nice man. Only someone nice would donate his house to needy orphans. How was she supposed to resist him?

“I’m not your damned fiancé,” he said, his eyes flashing like the storm. “I know.”

“That’s my point. You want me because I’m different, and dangerous. You want me to help you forget. You want me to be the exciting bad thing in your life. You want me in your bed.”

She couldn’t have been more shocked if he’d slapped her. How had he guessed? Had she been that obvious?

“I—I don’t want you,” she stammered, knowing she was blushing and praying the candlelight was faint enough that he wouldn’t see the color flaring in her cheeks. All her confidence disappeared like smoke in the wind. She turned to leave, but he grabbed her arm and held her in place.

“Did you hope I wouldn’t see what you were thinking?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

She moaned softly, shame joining embarrassment.

“Did you imagine I couldn’t read the fantasies, Rebecca, that I didn’t notice you staring at me, wanting to touch me, wanting me to touch you?”

It was worse than her dream about showing up naked at church. She felt as if someone had stripped her bare and was now mocking the pitiful being she was inside. Her soul felt raw, scourged by the sharp edge of his words. She had to get out, run away and hide. He was laughing at her. Making fun of her. She wanted to die.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, trying to turn away. Tears threatened. She blinked them back, but it wasn’t enough. One rolled onto her cheek. “Just let me go. I’ll never bother you again.”

He released her arm, but before she could step away, he placed his hands on her shoulders and drew her close.

“Damn you, Rebecca Chambers, don’t cry. I warned you I was a bastard. Why couldn’t you have listened? I’m not trying to hurt your feelings. I want you to understand that I’m nothing like the man you think I am. There’s nothing good in me. Forget me. Find another Wayne and have babies.”

His gentle words washed over her, easing some of her exposed rawness inside. His body was warm and hard, offering shelter and comfort. She sniffed back her tears until he touched her hair. The tender stroking of his palm on her head was more than she could stand.

Her sob caught her by surprise. Her whole body shook. “I’m sorry,” she said, trying to get control. “I—I’m not usually like this. I think it might be the f-fire and everything.”

“I know. It’s okay. You cry as much as you want.”

She didn’t want to cry at all, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. His strong arms wrapped around her, holding her safely in his embrace. His heartbeat was steady against her cheek. She cried for all she’d lost, for the children’s fears and her own. She whispered her concerns, about lying alone at night and wondering how she was supposed to keep it all together. She confessed that the responsibility scared her sometimes, but she kept on because there was no one else.

When the sobs had faded to sniffles, she became aware of the fact that her mouth rested against the bare skin of his chest. He was damp from her tears, yet still warm and smelling faintly musky. Through the thickness of her robe—his robe—she could feel the length of his legs, but little else save his heat. His hands moved up and down her back with long, comforting strokes. His chin rested on her head and he spoke quietly to soothe her.

“You must think I’m a fool,” she said, knowing she should pull away, but not wanting to.

“No. I think you’re very special. I’m sorry I said anything. I didn’t want to hurt you. I was trying to make you see that I’m not anyone’s idea of a fantasy lover.”

“I don’t want a fantasy.”

His hands grew still.

She raised her head until she could stare at him. “You’re right, Austin. I do—” she searched for the right word “—think you’re attractive, partially because you’re nothing like Wayne. But I don’t have a romantic fantasy about you. I don’t know you well enough to be picturing home and hearth.” She swallowed hard. He’d apologized to her, but she was the one who’d started the whole thing. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you. If I’d known you could tell what I was thinking, I would have thought about something else.”

His gray eyes flickered with some emotion she couldn’t read. His mouth twisted into a wry smile. “I wasn’t complaining,” he said. “I was trying to explain why I was turning you down. I won’t deal with your regrets.”

“And if I promise not to have any?” she asked without thinking.

“Rebecca.” His voice was a low growl. She felt it vibrate in her own chest and realized her breasts were plastered against him. She thought about pulling away, but didn’t. A wave of courage surprised her. She might never have this chance again.

In a way he was perfect for her. As he’d pointed out, he wasn’t interested in a relationship. She’d already figured that one out on her own. He was wild and experienced. She would never choose to fall in love with someone like him. Which was what made him so safe. She was a twenty-nine-year-old virgin, and she needed a man to fix that. She’d recently started dating, but had always broken things off before they got serious. She didn’t want to have to explain about her condition. She’d tried twice and both men had stared at her as if she were a two-headed snake. Being a virgin at her age said something about a person, and she didn’t like what it said about her. She’d been saving herself for Wayne and then he was gone. Her gift had no meaning, save a painful one. It reminded her of what she’d kept from him. She wanted it done away with.

Who better to help her out than Austin? Heaven knew she’d had enough fantasies that being in bed with him would almost be familiar.

“I’m serious,” she said, drawing in a deep breath and sliding her hands up his arms to his shoulders. She could feel the rock-hard strength of his muscles. “Maybe if we make love, I’ll get over my crush and leave you alone.”

“That doesn’t say a whole lot about my skills in bed,” he muttered.

She was afraid he would be repulsed by the idea and turn away, but he didn’t. His hands resumed their stroking of her back, but this time they moved lower, sliding over the curve of her derriere.

“No regrets,” she said. “No dreams about white picket fences. No fantasies about a future together, I promise.”

His gaze locked on hers. She couldn’t read his emotions. It was like staring into a bottomless pool or jumping off a cliff into a cloud. She didn’t know how far down she would go. Would he catch her, or let her fall and shatter?

He brought his hands around to her face and cupped her cheeks, then lowered his head toward hers.

She drew a breath in anticipation of their kiss. His mouth brushed hers, slowly, carefully, as if she were the most fragile of creatures. Back and forth, back and forth. Her fingers curled slightly as she gripped his shoulders. Her knees began to tremble.

He pulled back. Their gazes met and for the first time she could read something in his eyes. Desire. It dilated his pupils so much the gray got lost in a sea of need. Until that moment, she’d wondered if she was setting herself up again. Had he toyed with her, making her confess her wants, knowing he shared none of them?

Now she knew the truth. He shared the trembling, the heat. Her confidence returned and with it the sense of rightness about her decision. Austin Lucas might be the devil, but she trusted him not to hurt her. She smiled slightly. So much for being logical. For the first time in her life, she was going on instinct.

“No regrets? You promise?” he asked.

She knew this was completely insane, but it felt right. Wayne was gone. She needed to get on with her life. Austin was the perfect solution. Plus, she would finally find out if her fantasies had come close to the real thing. She smiled. “Yes.”

It was as if her single word gave him the permission he’d been waiting for. Before she knew what was happening, he buried his hands in her hair, holding her head still. His fingers flexed against her scalp, sending tingling sensations down her spine.

His mouth angled over hers, searing her with hot, fast kisses. He devoured her, sucking her bottom lip, nibbling on her top. He touched his tongue to the corners of her mouth, then swept across the closed seam, urging her to part for him.

She opened to admit him, her breath already quickening with anticipation. In and around, over and under. Hot, wet, seeking. He plunged inside like a marauding warrior, ready to take that which he’d won. Then he retreated, playing with her, touching, stroking, tasting, discovering every inch of her tender mouth, making her pant with longing.

His hands moved down from her head to her neck. His thumbs traced a line from her chin to the hollow of her throat. His fingers left small warm brands on her sensitized skin.

She clung to him, her anchor in the storm, her source of strength. Mindless half phrases passed through her consciousness. It had never been like this. Not with those men she’d dated, not with Wayne. Before, the buildup had been slow, gentle kisses, a natural progression from kissing to petting. It had been quiet and lovely.

Not frantic like this. Her body was too hot, quivering with need and heat. Her breasts ached. Her nipples pressed against the terry cloth, throbbing for his touch. Between her legs an answering echo pulsed in time with her thundering heartbeat.

His mouth left hers and moved along her jaw to her ear where he whispered that she was beautiful. His tongue traced the shape of her ear. His teeth nibbled on her lobe. Ribbons of heat and desire rippled down her body, making her legs shake and threaten to buckle.

She slipped her hands down his chest and across to the bare strip of skin exposed by his open shirt. He was warm to her touch, smooth except for the crinkling hair. Muscles bunched under her fingers. She moved to his waist and drew her palms up slowly, then across his broadness. He answered with a quick intake of air.

She felt his hand at the tie of the robe. With one tug, it was free. He grabbed the collar, then drew it apart and down her arms. She was naked before him.

The cool air of the room surprised her. Without thinking, she brought her hands up to cover her breasts. As always, their small size embarrassed her.

Austin stared into her eyes. “Has there been anyone since Wayne?”

The intensity of his gaze made it impossible to lie. Not that she would have, anyway. “Just a few dates.”

“So you haven’t made love with anyone in the past couple of years?”

She swallowed. “No.” She hadn’t made love with anyone, ever, but he hadn’t asked that.

“Do you want to change your mind? We don’t have to do this.”

“I want to.” She needed to. Not just because it would rid her of her pesky virginity, but because her body was on fire for this man. She had to feel him on her, in her. She had to know what it was like to be with him in the most intimate way possible.

“Then why do you hide yourself from me?”

She glanced down at her hands covering her breasts. “I’m not like her.”

He frowned. “Who?”

“I don’t know her name. She’s pretty, with red hair. She used to come out here a couple of times a week.” Rebecca bit down on her lower lip and wondered why she was trying to explain this. “I wasn’t spying on you or anything, but people in town talk and it’s hard not to listen when they just happen to mention it and—” She clamped her mouth shut.

“You think you’re too small,” he said bluntly.

She nodded.

His slow grin surprised her.

“What’s so funny?”

“Your old boyfriend did a lousy job, Rebecca. You are a beautiful woman, perfect in every way. Long, lean, with just enough curves to drive a man wild.”

Her spirits lifted slightly. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that makes me feel better. I’ve always been worried that, you know, I was too little on top. I— What are you doing?”

He bent over and picked her up in his arms. She squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck. With only the flickering candles to guide him, he walked to the bed and set her in the middle of the black satin comforter. The slick fabric was cool against her heated skin. Before she could slip away to one side, he placed his hands on either side of her waist.

“You’re just right on top. Trust me, I know.” His smile faded. “I don’t have any protection with me, but I had a blood test for my life insurance a couple of months ago,” he said. “It came back clean. I haven’t been with anyone else since.”

She stared at him. What on earth? Oh! That. He waited patiently. “Ah, yeah, me, too. I mean, I’m okay. You know.” How could there be a problem? She’d never been intimate before.

“So you’re safe then?”

Safe? Of course she was safe. She couldn’t possibly have any sexually transmitted disease because she’d never had the sex required to do the transmitting. “Yes.”

“Good.” He shrugged out of his shirt.

When he stood up and started unfastening his jeans, she told herself to look away. But she didn’t. She’d already seen him naked. It had been thrilling, and she wanted to see him again.

But he didn’t look exactly the same. When he pushed his jeans past his hips, his arousal sprang free. He was a lot larger than she anticipated, hard and ready. Despite the flicker of fear that raced through her, she was glad. At least she knew he wanted her, too.

Without speaking, he lay down beside her. There wasn’t enough light from the candles for her to be able to see his expression, but she felt his warmth. He leaned over her, trapping her arms between them. He raised up, pulled her arms free and drew them around his neck. Then he bent down and kissed her.

The touch of his lips was electric. Hot, sparking sensations shot through her body, clear to her toes. Her fingers curled into his hair and she felt the silky brown strands slipping against her skin.

He moved his mouth slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. As if nothing existed but them and the night and the storm. She supposed she should be nervous and appalled at her own behavior. She would be. Later. For now there was only this man.

He raised his head and smiled at her. She smiled back. Bare legs brushed. Shivers raced from each point of contact and collected in her breasts and between her thighs. Anticipation made her muscles contract.

He moved his chest back and forth. His sprinkling of hair tickled her breasts and made her nipples pucker. Then he bent his head lower and took one hardened tip in his mouth.

She sucked in her breath on a gasp. His lips caressed the taut point. His tongue traced erotic circles over and over again. He reached for her other breast, cupping her small curves, stroking the sensitive skin, tweaking her nipple into a tight bead.

She felt his hardness against her thigh. She longed to touch him but didn’t have the courage. Instead, she stroked his back and sides, reaching down to cup his rear, squeezing the firm, muscled flesh.

She touched his shoulders, then his long hair. Warm to cool. His scent invaded her. Her index finger traced his ear and the gold hoop.

He moved his mouth to her other breast, exchanging fingers for tongue and vice versa. Her heart rate increased and the pulse between her thighs grew more insistent. Her arms fell to her sides. She grasped at the satin comforter and held on. It had been too long. Her breasts were too sensitive. Just the feel of his hot breath, his tongue flicking over the nipples, making the tight points higher and tauter, sent her flying toward ecstasy. Her last conscious thought was that her fantasies about making love hadn’t even come close to the sensual magic of this moment.

Austin raised his head and looked at Rebecca’s face. Her eyelids closed and her mouth parted as she drew in more and more air. He felt her quivering response as he suckled her.

He slipped his hand lower, across the smooth skin of her flat belly to the dark curls below. Heat radiated from her. It would be so easy to bury himself inside her waiting warmth and just explode. However, as hard as he was, that explosion would occur in about three thrusts. Hardly enough to satisfy her. He wanted to feel her body ripple with satisfaction and watch her eyes slowly return to focus. He wanted to learn every inch of her. Only then would he take his own pleasure.

His finger sought and found her tight opening. He traced the entrance to paradise, making his stomach tighten in anticipation as her body thrust toward him.

The night made her pale skin glow as if iridescent. Despite his best intentions, his need throbbed heavily. Just looking at her and thinking about what he wanted to do was enough to send him close to the edge. He forced himself back.

He drew her nipple deeper into his mouth. At the same time, he sought out the tiny point of her pleasure. He touched it with the tip of his finger. She jumped. Slowly, carefully, he caressed that place, over and around, moving faster and lighter.

Her body quivered, her hips shifted beneath his hand, making it easy to find the rhythm that pleased her. He’d planned to bring her close, then take his time tending to every part of her before finally sending her over the edge. But when her breathing suddenly quickened and her muscles tensed, he knew he couldn’t stop.

He raised up on one elbow so he could watch her face. Her eyes opened, but she stared at him without seeing. Her pelvis thrust in time with his movements. Soft moans escaped her lips.

He could feel her tension and the promise of her release. His finger moved more quickly now. She spoke his name and was suddenly still. He rubbed her sweet spot once, twice, forcing her into the fiery explosion. He urged her on, touching gently, keeping pace with her, until she relaxed against his touch.

He looked at her. Perspiration coated her chest. She gasped for breath. Slowly her eyes focused on him. Another spasm caught her and her entire body trembled. It was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen in his life. He had to have her now.

He rose to his knees and positioned himself against her slick opening. She smiled welcomingly.

“Finally,” she whispered.

He closed his eyes as he eased himself inside. So damn tight and wet. He held on to her legs, struggling for control. He wanted to let go right away, but he didn’t. He couldn’t.

He was less than halfway in when he felt resistance. His mind tried to focus but his body wouldn’t let him. His need was overpowering. He flexed his hips and pressed on. The barrier resisted, then gave way. Against his palms, the muscles in her legs stiffened.

He stared down at her. Realization dawned and, with it, a sense of disbelief. Rebecca Chambers had been a virgin.

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