In His Brother's Place (6 page)

“But the awful things she said—that I’d destroy you like I destroyed Justin...”

Jordan fought the impulse to crush her in his arms. “You didn’t destroy Justin, Angie. You’re not the one who brought down that plane.”

“But I could’ve broken up with him. I would never have taken your money, Jordan, but I could have ended the relationship, anyway—told him that I didn’t want to come between him and his family.” Her voice broke. “I’d have done anything to save him!”

“You couldn’t have known what would happen. Neither of us could’ve known.” Jordan felt the cold knife of guilt twisting in his gut. They had both loved Justin. But Angie wasn’t the one who’d let Justin down. For that, he had no one to blame but himself.

Angie’s tears had spilled over, leaving silvery trails down her cheeks. Jordan felt a lump of pain break loose inside him. With a half-muttered curse, he gathered her close. Right now he needed her, and something told him she needed him, too.

She nestled against him like a child seeking comfort after a bad dream. Her light, musky fragrance was the one he remembered from that New Year’s Eve in his car—the night that had changed everything. Bittersweet memories rushed over him as he breathed her into his senses—recalling the taste of that ripe plum mouth, her warm breasts molding to his hand, the satiny smoothness of her thigh beneath her skirt....

He’d wanted Angie Montoya from the first time he saw her with his brother. He’d wanted her that night, and, damn his soul to Hades, he wanted her now.

His sex rose and hardened as he held her. There was no way she couldn’t feel it. But even though she was trembling, she didn’t pull away. Her arms crept around his ribs, binding their bodies even closer. With his erection cradled against her firm belly, he couldn’t help thinking of where he really wanted to be—buried to the hilt inside her.

“Jordan...”
Her lush lips shaped his name.
“I need...”

He silenced her with what began as a gentle kiss. As she pressed upward, her mouth opening in invitation, the kiss deepened. His tongue feathered the sensitive inner edge of her lips, teasing her until she moaned and stretched on tiptoe to lift her hips closer to his erection. Jordan was dimly aware of her shoes dropping to the floor as he seized her taut buttocks and hauled her upward, grinding her mound against his sex. She was gasping, almost sobbing by the time he found the zipper at the back of her dress.

That night in the car, they’d managed to stop before things got out of control. But there would be no stopping now.

* * *

The bedroom wasn’t far. Angie clung to Jordan as he half carried her down the hall. Her head was spinning, her blood keening through her veins, drowning the feeble protests of common sense. How could she have forgotten what it was like—the sweet rush of sensations, the overpowering need? With every throb of her pulse, she wanted this man. Her woman’s body hungered for the feel of him, the scent and taste of him.

Her dress gapped open in back where Jordan had yanked down the zipper. His fingers worked the fastening of her black lace bra, deftly parting the single clasp. The touch of his hand on her skin sent a warm shock spiraling through her body. All she could think of was
more.
Her frantic fingers tore at the front of his shirt. Buttons clattered onto the tiles as they stumbled down the hallway.

They reached the side of the king-size bed. He lowered her bare feet to the rug long enough to strip off her dress. The bra came with it, sliding down her body to pool around her ankles. She kicked the clothes aside as he flung back the covers, swept her up in his arms and all but flung her onto the sheets.

Clad in nothing but her wispy black panties, she lay watching as he ripped off his clothes to reveal a lean, muscular torso. He shoved his briefs down his hips, freeing his erection to spring up, as hard and sleek as a marble column.

Neither of them spoke. Jordan seemed to know that words would only complicate things. So did she. Angie quivered as he leaned over her. She felt a breath of hesitation—he was so experienced, so sure. Was she about to make a fool of herself? But her arms were already reaching up to pull him down to her. He groaned as he buried his face between her breasts, inhaling the scent of her skin, mouthing her nipples with a hunger that sharpened the secret longings inside her. Strange, how the notion of Jordan Cooper needing anyone hadn’t entered her mind until now. But how could she not believe that he needed her as much as she needed him?

Her head fell back as he stroked her. His hands ranged downward over the flat of her belly, sliding her panties off her hips, working them downward until they were lost in the bedclothes. His palm slid back up to skim the crisp, black curls between her thighs. She whimpered, thrusting her hips to meet his touch, wanting him to caress her, to taste her.

Her hands raked his hair, urging his head downward. Sensing what she wanted, he shifted his weight and brushed a line of kisses down her belly. Her breath stopped as he settled between her legs. His breath warmed her sex. His tongue separated her folds, licking the exquisitely sensitive bud at their center. Her womb contracted like a fist. Her hands clenched and unclenched in a frenzy as he sucked her. She came within seconds, spasms of pleasure shuddering through her body. Moisture slicked her thighs. She was ready for him—aching to feel him inside her.

His deft fingers paused to add protection. Then, shifting forward, he entered her in one gliding thrust. As his length and bulk filled her she forgot to breathe, struck by the wonder of what was happening—and the irony of it. This was Jordan inside her, her longtime foe; Jordan loving her—except that it wasn’t love. She had no illusions about that. He might care for her more than she’d previously suspected, but this had nothing to do with
care.
It was pure, unbridled lust.

Her thoughts dissolved as he began to move, the gliding friction of his sex awakening freshets of sensation. Her hands clawed at his back as he drove into her harder and faster. She felt herself clench around him in rhythmic spasms that exploded through her body as she met his thrusts. Her lips formed his name silently.
Jordan...Jordan...

He groaned, burying himself deep as he climaxed. Overcome by an unexpected tenderness, Angie cradled him between her thighs, rocking him gently as they floated back to Earth.

There were no words between them. He chuckled softly, grinning down at her in the darkness. Then, brushing a kiss on her lips, he rolled to one side and fell asleep.

Six

A
ngie lay in the dark, listening to the sounds of Jordan sleeping beside her. The easy flow of his breathing was broken by an occasional snore. She might have found it sweetly comforting—if she hadn’t just made one of the worst mistakes of her life.

She’d agreed to a platonic arrangement for Lucas’s sake. But tonight, in Jordan’s arms, her good intentions had melted like pine pitch in a raging bonfire.

Now what? Jordan might expect more of the same. But there was no way she could remain here as his live-in lover—especially not with Lucas. Children lost their naïveté early these days. If this became a regular thing, the boy was bound to discover that his mother was sneaking off to Uncle Jordan’s bed.

Could the man be thinking of marriage for Lucas’s sake? But that idea was a joke. Four years ago Jordan had come up with a plethora of reasons why Justin shouldn’t wed her—her family background, her poverty, even her ambition. None of those reasons had changed. Jordan might care for her, might show protectiveness and concern, might even be willing to have an ongoing sexual relationship with her. But marriage would never be possible. The Coopers were Santa Fe royalty. They would always look down on her—and they would never forgive her part in Justin’s death.

Rising onto one elbow, she studied Jordan’s face. In sleep he looked nothing like the cynical, hard-driving man she knew during his waking hours. She had to struggle to remember that even now, she couldn’t completely trust him. And the longer she stayed in his bed, the more tempting it would be to forget. For her own peace of mind, she had to get away from him. Right now.

Inching toward the side of the bed, she lowered her feet to the floor and fumbled for her clothes. Her panties were lost in the bed but she found her bra. Hooking the back and pulling on her rumpled dress, she tiptoed down the hall and up the stairs.

Back in her room, she opened the connecting door to check on Lucas. Rudy lay sprawled on the rug. He raised his head, thumped his tail and went back to sleep.

Bathed in the glow of the night-light, Lucas slumbered in the bed that had been his father’s. Justin’s love-worn, one-eyed teddy bear was clutched under one arm. A knot tightened around Angie’s heart. Her little boy was so happy here, as if he’d sensed from the first day that he belonged. This life of privilege was his legacy from the father he’d never known.

Her gaze lingered on Justin’s photograph. Justin had been the easy-going twin, happy and fun-loving, charming everyone who knew him. Angie’s world had shattered when he died. And now she felt like she’d betrayed him all over again.

Why had she done it? Why had she taken that step? She was powerfully drawn to Jordan, but that was no excuse. There was more at stake here than her own desires. When she’d come to this house, she’d wanted Jordan to respect her as an equal. But she’d blown that out of the water, hadn’t she? From here on out, she’d be just another woman who’d tumbled into his bed. How could she face him in the morning?

But there was no avoiding reality. Even if she were to leave she’d still be dealing with Jordan. The best she could do was draw new lines, make new rules and stand behind them.

Blinking away a stray tear, she made a silent vow. Whatever it took, she would be strong. She would prove to herself—and to Jordan—that she could move beyond this night.

* * *

Jordan woke at first light. He wasn’t surprised to find Angie gone. It made sense that she’d leave to be near Lucas. But how she felt about last night would be anybody’s guess. Hell, he wasn’t even sure how
he
felt about it.

Swearing under his breath, he flung back the covers. Sprawled naked, he watched dawn creep through the shutters. Angie’s crumpled lace panties lay on the sheet beside him, a vivid reminder of the way he’d slid them off her legs and then settled himself between her thighs.

He hadn’t meant for last night to happen.

But it had. It had been wonderful and, damn it, he wasn’t sorry. If she were here now, he’d like nothing better than to roll her onto her lovely little bum and take up where they’d left off last night.

Unfortunately, the situation wasn’t that simple. He’d made Angie a promise when she moved in. That he’d broken it with her full cooperation didn’t matter. She had every right to be angry. If she was packing her bags right now, he couldn’t blame her.

At best, she’d stay, but things were bound to become awkward between them. Angie was going to need some space. So was he.

Today he had two meetings scheduled in town, but neither was urgent and he was feeling restless. He craved the release of fresh air and hard physical work. Rolling over, he reached for the phone, dialed his office and left a message for the receptionist. The meetings could be rescheduled next week.

With winter around the corner, the hired men would be moving the cattle to the lower pastures, mending the fences and stocking the sheds with hay. The stable needed repairs, as well as a store of oats and fresh straw for the horses. An extra pair of hands wouldn’t hurt.

Jordan showered and dressed in jeans and boots. Some time in the saddle would be good for clearing his head. Maybe after that he could make a fresh start with Angie. Meanwhile, some kind of peace offering was in order.

Before he left the house, he had one important phone call to make.

* * *

“Was my daddy as nice as Uncle Jordan?”

Angie was on her knees, reaching under the bed for Lucas’s lost sneaker. His question slammed her like a fist. She took a moment to grasp the shoe and sit up.

“Your father was every bit as nice but in a different way.”

“What way?” Lucas tugged a sock over his foot. His small face was somber.

“Your father loved to make people smile. Everybody liked him.”

“Doesn’t Uncle Jordan like to make people smile?”

“Your uncle Jordan likes to get things done. He likes being in charge.” Angie sighed, knowing her answers wouldn’t satisfy a curious little boy.

Lucas frowned as he pulled on his other sock. “You could marry Uncle Jordan. Then he’d be my daddy.”

Angie stifled a groan. “I don’t think your uncle Jordan would want to marry me.”

“Why not?”

Angie thought fast. “Because he likes giving orders. And I don’t like taking them.”

Lucas mulled over her reply. “Did my daddy like giving you orders?”

“Not so much. Now get your shoes on. Rudy’s been in here all night. We need to take him out before breakfast.”

They leashed the pup and walked him out to the stable yard. Rudy was proving smart and easy to train. Lucas led his pet to a patch of weedy grass and waited until his business was done. Then Rudy was turned loose to romp in the fenced yard. Jordan had set up his dog’s old house under a pine tree. Rudy used it for daily naps but still spent nights in Lucas’s room.

There was no sign of Jordan this morning, which was fine, Angie thought. After last night she was in no condition to face him. His touch had driven her wild. She’d responded like an out of control teenager, all common sense blown away in the heat of the moment.

Had Jordan been carried away, too? He’d been so passionate, so intense...yet knowing him as she did, she couldn’t help but wonder. Jordan wasn’t the type to let desire sweep him away.

Lucas was tossing a stick for Rudy to fetch. Angie watched them as sunlight crept across the yard. The November morning was crisp and bright, the Sangre de Cristo Mountains dusted with snow. Justin would have wanted his son to grow up in this beautiful place. She owed that much to his memory.

But how was she going to cope with Jordan?

How would she keep from falling into his bed again?

The aromas of bacon and fresh biscuits told her that breakfast was ready. Angie would have been happy to cook for herself and Lucas. But Marta was touchy about her kitchen. Outsiders were not tolerated.

After washing up, they took their places at the kitchen table. Lucas’s chatter eased the awkwardness between the two women.

“Did you know my daddy, Miss Marta?”

Marta was wiping the counter. She stiffened at Lucas’s question but answered pleasantly enough. “I certainly did. He was a little boy like you when I came here to work.”

“What did he look like? Do you have a picture of him?”

“He looked a lot like you. Your uncle Jordan has pictures, but he’s out on the range with the cowboys today. Maybe he can show you when he comes home.”

Angie wondered if the last words were meant for her. Jordan was clearly making himself scarce. He probably hadn’t wanted to face her today—which brought the shoes to mind. This morning she’d opened her bedroom door to find her red stilettos placed neatly on the threshold. Her face had flamed as she remembered leaving them downstairs on the way to Jordan’s room. Was it Jordan who’d returned them? Or had it been his eagle-eyed housekeeper?

Either way, she needed to get out of the house for a while. She and Lucas would be attending a party at her cousin’s place in town. The break would do her a world of good.

“What did my daddy like to do?” Lucas toyed with his scrambled eggs.

“He liked to play games,” Marta said. “And he liked to tease people but in a nice way.” Her voice caught. “Everybody loved him.”

“Did you know Uncle Jordan, too?”

“Of course I did. They were brothers.”

“Did Uncle Jordan like to tease?”

Marta shrugged and went back to her cleaning. “Your uncle Jordan liked to ride his horses.”

“Which brother am I like?” Lucas asked.

“You are like your very own self,” Angie answered, putting down her fork. “Now, finish your breakfast. I’m taking you into town early to get your hair cut before Ramon’s birthday party. You’re getting as shaggy as a little sheep dog!”

By the time they were ready to go, it was almost ten. Angie had just enough cash for the haircut, a few gallons of gas and a little gift for her cousin’s son, who was having the party. Thank goodness one of her clients would be sending an online payment to her account tomorrow. The last thing she wanted was to depend on Jordan’s charity.

With Lucas buckled into his car seat, she started her old blue car. She was backing out of the garage when a lumbering vehicle pulled into the driveway behind her. Slamming on the brake, she turned off the key and opened the door.

The flat-bed tow truck still had its engine running. Bolted onto the bed was a new black SUV, a high-end model she recognized from TV commercials as the ultimate in performance and luxury. The driver was climbing out of the cab. Maybe he was lost.

“Can I help you?” Angie asked, stepping out of the car.

“I’m looking for Miss Angelina Montoya. Would that be you?”

Angie blinked. “Yes, but I don’t—”

“Sign here, and I’ll unload your vehicle.” He thrust a clipboard and a pen toward her. “The title’s on the front seat, along with the owner’s manual. Key’s in the ignition.”

“Wait!” Angie pushed the clipboard away. “There’s got to be some mistake.”

“No mistake. It was bought and paid for this morning by Mr. Jordan Cooper. He said to deliver it to you right away and take your old car. Is he here?”

“No.” Angie quivered as her indignation mounted. If Jordan thought he could buy her like some prize heifer...

“There’s been a misunderstanding,” she told the driver. “Take it back and refund Mr. Cooper’s money minus the delivery charge.”

Her voice quivered.
Oh, blast, was she going to cry? How could Jordan do this, especially after last night?

“But Mr. Cooper said to—”

“Take it away!” She stood her ground, glaring up at the startled driver. “I won’t accept it! And you’re not taking my car!”

Angie’s knees sagged as the tow truck roared back down the road. Was Jordan trying to buy her gratitude or reward her for services rendered? Either way, it was a slap in the face.

Turning, she stalked back to her old car. She would drive to town and do her errands as she’d planned. But when Jordan got home, she’d be there waiting. It was time he stopped playing these games with her.

* * *

The wind had sharpened, carrying the moist scent of a storm. Jordan turned up the collar of his sheepskin jacket and headed his horse downhill behind the herd. Beef raising was no longer a mainstay of the Cooper Ranch, but the five hundred head of white-faced Herefords provided some income and kept the old traditions alive.

Cutting across the brushy slope, he shooed a few stragglers into line. He would have enjoyed the ranch’s early days, when cattle raising was a full-time job and a man could spend days on horseback, camping by the fire and eating off the chuck wagon. Instead, he’d be back in a suit and tie next week, managing the business ventures that kept the ranch in the black.

By now, Angie should have her new SUV—just in time for the trip to town she’d planned to take. He should probably have consulted her first. But things were awkward between them, and with a storm blowing in, he couldn’t have her driving the roads in that old blue rattletrap. He could only hope she’d take his gift in the right spirit. All he really wanted was to make sure she and Lucas were safe.

He’d spent most of the morning thinking about last night. Holding Angie in his arms had been pure heaven. The very thought of a repeat engagement was enough to kindle a blaze in his blood. But she wasn’t the sort of woman to be kept around as a live-in bed partner. She had too much class for that. And she was too important to him in other ways.

As his thoughts rambled, he’d even weighed the idea of marriage. That would be the simplest way to provide a future for Justin’s child—and to keep Angie from running away from him. But there were reasons why it would never work. For one thing, he wasn’t great husband material. His brief marriage had proved that. For another, even after last night, he had no reason to believe Angie loved him. Then there was his mother, who would never accept the woman she blamed for Justin’s death.

But most compelling of all was the secret truth that lay like a sharp, cold stone inside him. If known, it could destroy his mother and drive Angie away forever.

* * *

After getting Lucas’s hair cut and shopping for a toy soccer ball, Angie drove to her cousin Raquel’s house. Raquel’s husband, Antonio Vargas, owned the restaurant where Angie had once worked as a hostess—the restaurant where she’d first met Justin.