Marriage On Demand (3 page)

Chapter 2

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R
ebecca 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.

"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. "