Playing for Keeps/A Tempting Stranger (36 page)

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Authors: Lori Copeland

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Contemporary, #Westerns, #test

BOOK: Playing for Keeps/A Tempting Stranger
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sleep. That illusion was shattered instantly as his tipsy voice floated back to her once again. ''There once was an old farmer's daughter. Who knew a lot more than she oughter." He pronounced his words very concisely and clearly, intent on wooing the lady.
Chandra sat up in her bed, the phrase "old farmer's daughter" catching her ear. He surely wouldn't be telling her one of those horrible risqué poems the boys used to recite in school, would he?
Garrett's deep voice droned on with his recitation. "The boys made a pass"Chandra's mouth dropped open wider with indignation the longer he spoke"as she wiggled her"
"Garrett Morganson!" Chandra's voice shot through his room like a speeding bullet.
"Yes, ma'am!" he shouted back instantly, his voice filled with obedience.
"Don't you say another word of that poemdo you hear me?!"
There was dead silence from his end of the house, then a small male voice floated through the air. "You didn't like it," he said disappointed.
"It was disgusting," she told him bluntly. "Go to sleep!"
Silence reigned over the house once again as she lay back down in her bed. The nerve of that guy, reciting a poem like that. He was nothing but a rowdy, crude . . . test pilot. For the life of her, she couldn't think of what was so bad about being a test pilot, but there must undoubtedly be something, since he was one!
Again, a loud whistle filled the air.
"What now!"
"I'm cold. There aren't enough blankets on this bed," he complained loudly.
"There's one in the closet next to your bed." He was worse than a child. They were never going to get to sleep at this rate.
"I can't find it," he yelled irritably, a few minutes later. "You'll have to come in here and find it for me."
Muttering some very explicit ideas on what Garrett could do
 
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with his blanket after she found it, Chandra threw back her covers and slid out of the bed. She literally stomped down the hall to the guest room and yanked the door open loudly. ''It's in plain sight, Garrett. . . ." Her voice trailed off as she was forcefully tackled around her knees and pulled over onto the bed by a pair of strong hairy arms.
"I know itI was lying to you," Garrett confessed, his hands trying to still a squirming Chandra. "I was lonesome for you, little wife. I don't want to sleep alone."
"You . . ." Chandra sputtered, "you let me go!"
"Not until you tell me you're not mad at me," Garrett told her, holding her down tighter on the bed. She shoved at him roughly, knocking him off balance for a moment. But her strength was no match for his, and he easily flipped her over on her back and pinned her flatly to the mattress, holding both her wrists in one large hand.
"Now, I'm waiting," he breathed patiently, his eyes locking into hers.
"What am I supposed to say I'm not mad at you for?" she asked tightly, the fight draining out of her. He had her practically nailed to the bed. She couldn't move a muscle if she tried.
"For reciting that awful poem to you. You're rightthat was a nasty thing to do, and I most humbly ask your forgiveness." His voice had dropped to a low whisper now, his hand gradually releasing its hard grip on her wrists.
"I'm not mad," Chandra said softly. "I just don't like for you to treat me like one of your . . . well, the kind of women you're used to," she finished lamely.
He chuckled softly, his face moving ever closer to hers. "Is that what I've been doing? If it is, I'm sorryalthough the majority of the women I'm used to are just like you." He paused, then added gently, "Well, not
just
like you. Somehow, I've never met anyone just like you, Chandra Loring." His voice was deep, almost musical, as he tenderly stroked the blond wisps of hair away from her face. "You will forgive me for my deplorable
 
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actions tonight, won't you? To tell you the truth, sweetheart, I
am
more than a little drunk at this moment,'' he confessed wryly.
"You're forgiven," Chandra dismissed lightly, wanting to break the close contact with him again. "Can I go back to my bed now?"
"No," he coaxed quietly, "stay here with me for a while." His fingertips began to trace the outline of her face, touching it gently and wonderingly.
"I really shouldn't . . ." Chandra began, then lost even the will to argue anymore. She was tired of kidding herself. She didn't want to leave him. Reaching up to touch his face hesitantly, she let her fingers wander along the plains and hollows of his features, marveling at the feel of his skin against her hands. "You know you won't remember any of this in the morning, don't you?" she whispered shakily, her fingers trembling lightly. That was the only reason she was allowing this nonsense to go onthe only reason she was allowing herself the luxury of gently stroking his face in the dark. Her hands dropped down to bury themselves in the thick hair on his chest.
A low groan escaped him as she gently began to massage his chest, her small hands kneading his firm flesh in soft, exploring caresses.
"That's a strong penalty for a man to pay for drinking too much," he rasped weakly, her motions arousing him to fever pitch. His hands slid up underneath her gown, drawing her warm body nearer to his naked flesh.
"You haven't got any clothes on!" she accused guiltily, as his body met the feminine curves of hers with nothing in between.
"You haven't either," he defended, just before he slipped her gown over her head and let it drop onto the floor.
Every defense Chandra ever had against him seemed to dissolve. As Garrett's body blended with hers, a hot fire surged through her veins. This went against everything Chandra had ever been taught or believed in her life, but she was his to do with as he wanted. Somehow the name Phillip never entered her mind. All she could feel was the strength of Garrett's passion and
 
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the uncompromising demand that his hunger for her be assuaged. His hands reverently worshiped her trembling body, his eyes gazing into hers with a blaze of unconcealed desire.
''I want to make love to you, you know that?" he pleaded huskily.
"Yes, I know that," Chandra yielded softly.
The blue of his eyes suddenly turned dark as his passion flared brighter. Then a strange look of pleading indecision came into them as he whispered tormentedly, "No ties . . . no strings attached . . . I can't promise you . . ."
She placed her hand over his mouth, stopping his flow of words. "No ties, no strings, Garrett," Chandra said lovingly. Not for him at least, but for Chandra, he would be the first man who had ever made her feel this way, so she couldn't honestly tell him that this was not an important time in her life. No, she would always remember him. How could one forget paradise?
Their lips met hesitantly as Chandra felt tears well up in her eyes. Even though he didn't love her, she would make this a night for him to remember, this hour a sweet, sweet memory.
He moaned quietly as he buried his face in her neck, squeezing her tightly. "Damn," he muttered miserably. "Remind me never to drink again."
Chandra smiled and hugged him tighter. What was happening to her? Was she actually falling in love with this man? That would surely lead to heartbreak.
She waited for his kiss, eager for his caresses to begin again. She waited, and she waited, and she waited.
"Garrett?" she nudged softly.
The sounds of soft snoring reached her ears as she sat up slightly in the dark and stared at the limp form draped over half her body. "Garrett?" she murmured more loudly this time.
The snoring grew louder as Garrett rolled over onto his stomach and covered his head with his pillow.
Chandra stared at the wilted form in bed beside her. He was asleep! Passed out! Here she was, ready to give herself to him in the throes of passion, and he had passed out cold. She didn't
 
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know whether to laugh or cry. Then she started to do both. Gales of laughter erupted from her as tears of frustration slid down her face. She should be down on her knees thanking her guardian angel that she hadn't made a fool of herself, but here she was sitting in bed with the best-looking, most virile man she had ever met in her life, and he was peacefully sleeping away. She picked up her pillow and smacked him hard across his rump. ''Darn you anyway, Garrett Morganson. You have been nothing but a thorn in my side from the minute I laid eyes on you. How could you do this to me, you . . . you . . . test pilot!"
She hopped out of bed and disgustedly threw the covers back over Garrett's sleeping form. Slamming out of his room loudly (who cared, he couldn't have heard World War III), she marched furiously back to her room and threw herself across her bed in misery. How could she have lost control? Did her commitment to Phillip mean so little to her? The thought scared her. Maybe, just maybe, she wasn't really in love with Phillip at all. She closed her eyes, her temper dissolving rapidly. She had to get hold of herself. Nothing had happened between her and Garrett. She could still marry Phillip without the slightest twinge of conscience . . . well, almost. Tonight was going to be put behind her and never thought about again. Chances were Garrett would never remember this evening, and she sure wasn't about to enlighten him on the events that had taken place. No, she had learned a valuable lesson tonightone that would stick with her for the rest of her life.
Chandra crawled under her covers, suddenly very tired. She lay back wearily, her thoughts finally churning to a halt. Yes sir, she had learned something very valuable tonight, and she wouldn't forget it. For the next two hours she stared at the ceiling of her dark bedroom trying her best to figure out what it was she had learned.
 
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Chapter Five
Even after her perfectly wretched night, Chandra was up bright and early the next morning making a fast trip out to the mailbox in her robe, dropping the wedding invitations in and hurrying back into the warm house. Considering the night she had had Chandra felt surprisingly well this morning, zipping around her mom's kitchen, exhibiting some of the old enthusiasm that had been so sadly missing in her life of late.
I don't know why I should feel so different this morning,
she mused to herself as she wiped away the heavy steam on the kitchen window to peer out into the early frosty morning. After last night, she should really be feeling down in the dumps, but for some strange reason she wasn't. Deciding to enjoy the feeling, whatever the reason, she walked over and put on the coffee pot.
I wonder how he'll feel this morning,
she wondered as she slipped a piece of bread into the toaster. She shuddered slightly as she remembered how close she had come to disaster with Garrett last night. Chandra had always viewed sex as something very personal, not to be given lightly. She had always felt that no matter what the morals of the day were, she was a bit old-fashioned in feeling that the man had to be someone special. For her, going from bed to bed would be a shallow, empty life. It wasn't what she wanted.
The toaster shot her piece of toast up in the air, and Chandra retrieved it before it hit the floor.
That old thing needs to be replaced,
she pondered idly as she spread the bread with butter and jam. She brought the toast up to her mouth and was just
 
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getting ready to take a bite when Garrett appeared at the doorway.
''Hi!" she greeted exuberantly. "Are you hungry?"
Garrett's face was ashen gray, his eyes looked like road maps, his hair was tossed wildly about his head, a dark stubble outlined his sagging jaw, and his stance pleaded for mercy. In essence he looked like death warmed over. "Do you have any aspirin?" he managed sickly.
"Sure!" she grinned cheerfully. "Have you got a headache?"
Garrett sagged against the door frame holding on tight for support. "You might say that," he agreed sourly. "It's either that or a brain concussion." He walked slowly over to the kitchen table and wilted into a chair.
"Oh," she moaned in mock sympathy, "are you not feeling up to snuff this morning? Maybe you're coming down with a bug," she heckled, biting her lip to keep from laughing in his face. He looked awful.
"Just get me the damn aspirin, clown. Can't you see I'm dying?" he pleaded, holding his head in his hands.
"Okayyou hold my toast." She handed him the sticky piece of bread covered in butter and orange marmalade. "Don't eat it," she warned as she went in search of the aspirin bottle.
Garrett's face turned varying shades of green as he stared at the rich glob in his hands. With a muttered expletive he threw it down on the table, his stomach churning violently.
Chandra was back in a few minutes shaking out a couple of aspirins into his trembling hand. She poured a glass of orange juice, handing it to him silently. He downed the pills, then took a small sip of the juice.
"How about some coffee?" she offered. "It might help."
"I'll try anything," he said defeatedly.
Chandra poured him a cup of hot coffee and set it before him. She really did feel sorry for him this morning. Apparently he wasn't used to drinking in the quantities he had consumed last night.
As if he had been reading her thoughts, he asked guiltily,

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