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Authors: Susan Mallery

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BOOK: Marriage On Demand
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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 foot steps 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 mid-sentence 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.

BOOK: Marriage On Demand
4.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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