Read Millionaire on Her Doorstep Online

Authors: Stella Bagwell

Millionaire on Her Doorstep (6 page)

BOOK: Millionaire on Her Doorstep
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“Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to know why. Why was the grass green? Why did the stars shine? Why did sodium bicarbonate make buttermilk bubble? I looked forward to science class the way other girls eagerly awaited a Friday-night date.”
One corner of his lips curved with wry amusement “Don't tell me you didn't look forward to those Friday-night dates.”
She drew in a deep breath and stared at the raspberry polish on her toenails. “Not really.”
“You must have dated sometime. You were married.”
She looked at him in surprise. “How did you know that?”
He shrugged. “Down in South America. Remember? You told me you were divorced.”
She'd remembered, but she'd figured the most he recalled about their first meeting was the accident. “Well, I didn't date until I was a freshman in college,” she explained. “That's when I met David. After a year we were married. Another year later we were divorced.”
“What happened?”
She frowned at him. “What do you mean, what happened?”
“The divorce. Something obviously came between the two of you. What was it, another woman?”
If only it had been that simple, Maureen thought. She might have been able to deal with a cheating husband. As it was, she'd struggled to hang on to a man who'd viewed her as a selfish woman and a negligent mother. Looking back on it now, she seriously doubted David had ever felt more than physical lust for her.
“No. David didn't have a roaming eye for other women. After we were married, I...” She sighed and shook her head against the dark memories. “I discovered we had totally different objectives in life.”
“Such as?”
Her frown deepened. “Don't you think you're getting a bit personal?”
He shrugged and put his drink aside, then swung
his legs over the side of the chair to face her. With his elbows resting on his knees, he leaned forward and studied her thoughtfully. “Not personal. Just curious as to why any man would let you go.”
Something soft and uniquely feminine flickered deep inside her. Something she hadn't felt in years. “You make me sound like a prize,” she said, a thread of accusation in her husky voice.
The only change in his expression was a faint arch to his brows. “Most women would consider being called a prize a compliment. Obviously, you didn't take it that way.”
He was making her edgy and restless and a little more than confused. For years she'd told herself she would never let herself belong to another man. Being David's prize had taken everything from her. Her pride and self-respect, even a certain degree of the ambition she'd always possessed. And then there were all those years she'd struggled to shed herself of the guilt he'd instilled in her. No, she didn't want to be another man's prize.
But the woman in her, that foolish, needy feminine part, wondered what it would be like to belong to Adam Murdock Sanders. To have him make love to her as though she was his and only his.
The disturbing thought pushed Maureen to her feet. A glance at his face told her he was still waiting for her reply. “I'm a person,” she said simply. “A human being. Not a prize to be possessed.”
She walked away from him and stood at the edge of the pool. She was staring down into its cool depths when she heard his footfall behind her, and then his hand was on her bare shoulder, sending tingling little shots of fire over her skin.
“Is that what happened with your husband?” he asked quietly.
“Don't say husband,” she said flatly. “David is a very ex-husband. I haven't seen him for more than ten years.”
Suddenly, she turned to face him. The movement caused his hand to slip to her upper arm. Unconsciously, his fingers moved ever so slightly against her skin.
“Why are we talking about this? We're supposed to be swimming. You know, me and you in the water. Staying afloat. Cooling off,” she said, using the same words he'd used on her earlier.
She was comfortable with letting him see the outside of her, but not the inside. Not the part of her that really mattered. Adam told himself that was all well and good. He didn't need to know Maureen's hopes and dreams, past or future. Light and casual. That was the best way, the only way, for him to deal with Maureen York.
Slowly, a glint appeared in his eyes. The sight of it flashed a warning to Maureen, but she was too slow in reacting. Before she could step away, Adam's hands were gripping the sides of her waist.
“You're right, Maureen. Let's go!”
“Adam!”
His name screeched from her lips as he jumped over the side of the pool, taking her along with him. As they plunged into the cool water, his hands remained clasped on her ribs, forcing Maureen to sink slowly to the bottom with him.
The buoyancy of the water caused their bare legs to tangle. Like magnets against steel, their bodies slammed together, and Maureen was instantly overwhelmed
with the sensation of his hard body pressed against her thighs, her belly and breasts.
Frantic to escape the arousing heat rocketing through her veins, she put her hands on his shoulders and tried to shove herself away. Sensing her panic, Adam gave one hard kick to push the both of them to the surface. Their heads broke the water only inches apart. She was greedily gasping for air. He was grinning, waiting eagerly for her to explode.
Once she managed to push away the wet hair plastered over her eyes, she glared at him. “Are you crazy?”
His white teeth gleamed in the moonlight. “Depends on whom you ask.”
Because they were in the deep end of the pool, they were forced to tread water to stay afloat. But somehow Adam was managing even while one hand was occupied with a hold on the side of her waist.
“Is this the way you treat all your women guests? Throw them into a freezing pool, then try to drown them?”
He chuckled with devilish amusement. “The water is plenty warm. And what makes you think I have other women guests out here?”
This time, she was the one to laugh; only it was a sound of disbelief rather than amusement. “If you hadn't noticed by now, I was born before you. Not yesterday. Don't insult my intelligence by telling me you've been living like a monk.”
His head tilted back as more laughter rumbled from his throat. Maureen looked at him while thinking she had never seen a man quite as sexual as this one. And it wasn't just the pleasing shape of his features or his thick auburn hair or even his very male attitude. She
wasn't quite sure what it was about him. But the faint squint of his eyes, the sensual little curve to his lips and the strong angle of his jaw all worked together to do strange things to her sleeping libido.
“I would never profess to be so holy,” he admitted. “But I can safely say I've never had a female guest out here to the ranch. Not the sort you're thinking.”
She continued to look at him doubtfully. Adam took her hand and used her forefinger to make the mark of a cross over his heart.
“Cross my heart,” he said lowly.
“Okay. I believe you. Not that it matters. Now you can let go of me...before we both drown.” She plucked her hand from his and paddled the water.
“I'm staying afloat quite nicely like this, thank you,” he told her. “But if you need help...”
He didn't finish. Instead, he quickly flipped her onto her back, then supported her floating weight with one palm beneath her shoulder blade and the other against the small of her back.
“Adam, let me loose!”
She tried to backstroke away from him, but he snagged a thumb beneath the edge of her suit and held tight. “I will,” he promised huskily. “In a minute. Just relax and look up at the stars.”
The moon had risen far above the mountaintops now, and his face was cast in silvery light and shadows. The impish curl to his lips implied he was merely playing, but the droop of his eyelids said there was another part of him that earnestly wanted to seduce her.
“And what are you going to look at?” she asked him.
“You.”
His blatant answer sent a little shiver down her spine. Adam must have felt her reaction because he guided her body closer so the side of her waist was curved against his chest.
“You really are cold, aren't you?”
Cold? She very nearly laughed. How could she be cold when his body heat was surging through her like a hot bolt of electricity?
“No. And I didn't come out here for you to manhandle me,” she said with as much primness as she could muster.
He shot her an innocent look. “I'm not manhandling you.”
“Well, you're not exactly letting me go, either.”
His eyelids drooped lower as his gaze scanned her moonlit face. “I don't want to let you go.”
That was the last thing she expected him to say and her lips parted with surprise. What was he doing? Trying to ruin their working relationship before it ever really started?
She turned her head toward him, and her long hair floated against his arm like a piece of gossamer silk. “Are you trying to scare me away from Sanders?”
He stared at her. “Scare you?”
The dumbfounded look on his face answered her question. Scaring her was the very last thing on his mind, and she didn't know if she felt relief or a deep-seated fear.
“Maureen, if I really didn't want you working at Sanders, there'd be other ways to get rid of you. I wouldn't do it by half drowning you in a pool.”
That wasn't the sort of scaring she meant. But it was fine with her if that was where his thinking lay.
Besides, she was drowning. In him. And the whole idea terrified her. Still, she wasn't about to let him know just how strongly he was affecting her. She'd joined him tonight with every intention of giving him a lesson in older women. She had to carry it off.
“Then what
are
you doing?” she asked in as level a voice as she could manage.
“Enjoying the moonlight and the water. And you.”
She expected him to add a grin to his words. When he didn't, she fought off a shiver and tried to block out the feel of his hands on her back and the bulge of his chest muscles pressing against her side.
“You know, when I first met you, I thought you were a stuffed shirt. Now I have to rearrange my impressions. You're really a...rascal in wolfs clothing.”
His mouth quirked with amusement. “I'm not wearing much clothing at the moment,” he pointed out.
Did he think she needed to be reminded of that fact? “Yesterday you couldn't stand the sight of me. Tonight I can't get you to take your hands off me. Are you always this capricious?”
Adam had never been an unpredictable man. Once he had his mind set, it was nigh impossible for anyone to change it. What Maureen didn't know was that he'd wanted to touch her just as badly yesterday as he did at this moment. And the whole idea annoyed the hell out of him.
“I thought we'd put all those hard feelings behind us.”
A laugh of disbelief slipped from her throat. “So we did. But do you think that gives you the right to...take liberties?”
The corner of his mouth tilted upward at her use of the old-fashioned expression. “Maureen, I'm not taking liberties. I thought we were just having a swim. And a little...fun.”
Fun. His sort of fun was not Maureen's taste in amusement. Not when she knew how much pain it could eventually wreak on a woman's state of mind. Not to mention her heart.
With sudden decisiveness, she raised her head and moved so close her face was only a few inches from his. “So you want to play, huh?” she murmured throatily, then lifting her hand, she thrust it into his wet hair and scraped it back against his sleek skull.
Bemused by her abrupt switch, Adam could only stare at the gleam in her dark eyes, at the drops of water on her cheeks and the moisture clinging to her rose-colored lips.
“What—what are you doing?” he stammered.
One corner of her lips moved into a half smile and her teeth glinted brightly against her shadowed face. “Giving you what you want.”
Before he could ask more, she leaned forward until her face became a blur and then, unbelievably, her lips were pressed to his. Warm, open and searching.
Too stunned to do much at all, Adam could only clutch her waist. Their lips fused together, then slowly they drifted in the water until Adam's back bumped into the wall of the pool. By this point his shocked senses were wide-awake and he groaned with disappointment when the heated velvet of her lips lifted away from his.
“Was that supposed to be some sort of lesson?” he asked huskily.
She studied him beneath lowered eyelids. “Yes. A
lesson that I'm not to be toyed with. I'm not one of those young girls that you toss away like a faded rose.”
BOOK: Millionaire on Her Doorstep
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