The Cowboy Imports a Bride(The Cowboys Of Chance Creek #3) (7 page)

"How the hell do you get this thing off," he growled in frustration, turning back to the nightie, ready to tear it off of her.

Morgan laughed, pushed his fingers away and made short work of stripping it up over her head.

The sound that came from his throat was half animal and all desire. He swept down to sweep his tongue around one full nipple and Morgan arched back with a little gasp. That was all the invitation he needed. Hunger growing inside him, he cupped her breasts and lavished them with attention.

He'd heard what she said, and he wouldn't push her boundaries, but otherwise all bets were off. He intended to show Morgan what he could do beneath the sheets, and meant to leave them both craving their wedding night. Nothing wrong with a little anticipation, and nothing wrong with a little fulfillment in the meantime. He was prepared to fulfill her every carnal wish.

Morgan slid her hands down his back as he took first one breast and then the other into his mouth. When Morgan cupped his ass and squeezed, he groaned aloud.

He wriggled lower, swooping kisses across her belly, running hands down her sides to curve over her hips. When he knew she was aching for a more intimate touch, he reached down and traced a finger over her folds. Morgan stiffened again.

"Shhh," he whispered into her belly. "I know the rules." With a hand on either side of her waist, he pushed himself up and kneed her legs apart, but instead of bending down then to minister to her, he sat back and gazed at her instead. He'd longed for weeks to see her like this, naked and disheveled, waiting for him, and he wanted to drink in the view.

After a moment she wriggled. "What are you doing?"

He knew what it cost her to bare herself to him this way, but that was what they'd promised each other out in the living room; that they would choose to love each other. Choose to make a life together.

Choose to give themselves to the other heart and soul.

"Looking at you." Morgan stared back at him, tense but aroused, too, judging by her flushed face and parted lips. "You're beautiful," he assured her. "I could look at you all night."

A smile curved her lips that was nearly irresistible. Every fiber in his body tugged at him to lean forward – to cross the divide between them and touch her.

Make love to her.

Still, he held back, and not out of a fear that he wouldn't be able to restrain himself once he did touch her. Rob wanted to see this woman he was pairing his life with. He wanted to know all of her. He'd never done this before; just sat and…looked.

"You're scaring me," Morgan whispered finally.

He shook his head. "You have no idea what you do to me."

"Show me."

It was almost a whimper, and the thought of his fiancée waiting for his touch – longing for it – finally propelled him to action.

As he bent to touch his mouth to her core, Rob had the feeling that marrying Morgan would be the easiest thing he ever did.

* * * * *

When Rob's mouth touched her, Morgan very nearly came undone right then and there. She'd had no idea how much she ached for him, until he began his sensual attack. His tongue was sweet agony, and she gripped the bedspread to keep from thrashing under his attention. She wanted him inside her more than she'd ever wanted anything in her life. Only the promise she'd kept for so long held her back.

What would their wedding night be like? Would they try to conceive right away? She knew one thing; she'd gladly make love to him then. She could barely restrain herself now. As Rob moved his tongue farther into her folds, she moaned aloud. He paused, and she let go of the coverlet and wrapped her hands in his hair. "Don't stop," she cried, and he chuckled but resumed. Licking, touching, he slipped his hands beneath her ass and squeezed, crushing her against his mouth.

With a cry, Morgan went over the edge, bucking against him, shuddering with pleasure again and again until finally she was spent.

He kissed her thighs, brushed his mouth over her sensitive mound and propped himself on his elbows, the better to see her face. Morgan covered her eyes with her hands. "Sorry," she said. "I meant to wait for you."

He slid up beside her and nudged her hands away. "I liked watching you come."

Heat surged into her cheeks. No man had ever done what he'd done before – simply sat back and looked at her – all of her – for so long. At first she hadn't liked it; she felt stripped of every defense she had along with her clothes, but as the moments ticked by, she'd understood what Rob was feeling. His desire for her and his wonder at her body bathed her in warmth until she hummed with anticipation of the acts to come. She hoped he loved to watch her as much in ten years as he did now. She hoped their marriage stayed passionate.

But right now, she wanted to get a better look at him. "Your turn now," she said, pushing him down on the bed.

"If you insist."

CHAPTER FIVE

The next morning, Rob called his father's cell phone as he watched Morgan grab a box of fiber cereal from her barren cupboards and a small carton of one percent milk from the fridge. Yuck. That was her idea of breakfast?

"Rob? Where the hell are you?" Holt said. "It's past time for chores." Behind him, cattle lowed and bawled. He must be right among the herd.

"I know. I'm…out of town. Actually I'm out of the country."

"Out of the country? What the hell does that mean?"

"I'm in Canada – with Morgan. I've got some news." Rob grinned when Morgan lifted her head and smiled tentatively at him. "Dad, just listen, will you? I'm getting married."

He held his breath. From the look of things, Morgan was holding hers, too.

"Married."

"That's right, married," he said. "To Morgan Tate, Ethan and Claire's half-sister. I'm in Victoria right now. Last night she agreed to be my wife." He flashed her a thumb's up.

"You're marrying that whore's daughter?"

Rob jerked and spun on his heel, striding to the far side of the living room, afraid Morgan might be able to hear his father's words. "Dad. That's no way to talk…"

"I'm calling it like I see it. If my wife ran around like Aria Cruz did, she'd see the backside of my hand. I certainly wouldn't hitch my wagon to a filly whose mare was that kind of wild." Holt was breathing hard, probably walking back to the barn or the house, to get away from the noise of the cattle.

"For God's sake." After a furtive look in Morgan's direction, Rob paced to the bedroom and shut the door behind him. "First of all, I never want to hear you speak about my wife or my wife's family like that again. Second of all, it's no fault of Morgan's if her parents' marriage was less than perfect. My parents' marriage ain't all sunshine and roses, either."

"You done?" Holt growled.

"For now," Rob growled right back. "If I think of anything else, I'll let you know."

"When's this so-called wedding?"

"Tonight if I can swing it. Tomorrow or the next day if I can't. We haven't figured out what it takes to get a civil marriage yet."

"Civil marriage? A civil marriage ain't going to do you any good. You want the land I told you about, you'll get married right here on our lawn."

"But…"

"But what? You afraid if she has to wait a month or two, she'll lose interest? Or are you paying her to marry you? You get a divorce, I'll expect that land back, you hear me? Should have known the first thing you'd do is pull off some joke."

Rob's anger surged. "I'm not joking, and we planned a civil wedding because we were in a hurry. And yeah, part of that hurry is I'm afraid Jake or Ned will beat me to it and grab that land. I don't trust you to keep your word."

He wondered if he'd gone too far. Holt had many faults, but he considered himself to be an honorable man.

"I won't go back on my word as long as the marriage is real. You bring back that girl of yours and you stand up before our family and friends and pledge your vows, and I'll give you the land then and there. But if I think you're playing a trick, the whole thing's off."

"Fine." Rob opened the bedroom door and walked out into the living room again in order to consult with Morgan. She was still eating her cereal, and raised her eyebrows at him. "We have to get married on the ranch," he told her. "How about two weeks from Saturday?"

"A week after Claire and Jamie get married?" Morgan asked. "Will they even be back from their honeymoon?"

"Shit."

"Those Cruzes are having a wedding in a week or so," Holt was saying in his ear, echoing Morgan's words. "Can't have two weddings in a row. You'd better wait a month." He heard paper shuffling on the other end of the phone. Holt must be consulting one of his many calendars. He got them free from local banks and feed companies each year, and posted one in every barn and outbuilding on the spread. "October eleventh. Might be chilly. We'll have to prepare for bad weather. I'll leave that up to your mother to sort out."

"October eleventh? That's…" He turned a pleading expression on Morgan.

"That's perfect," she said, and to his surprise she actually seemed happy. Maybe she hadn't been as thrilled at the prospect of a quick, civil wedding as he was. Women never were. She probably wanted all that dress and flower stuff.

"What if Jake or Ned or Luke decides to get married before I even get home?" he asked his father.

"Nah – you've staked your claim," Holt said. "I'll put you on the phone with your mother next. If you tell her she can start planning that wedding, then I won't let no one else jump the line ahead of you until after October eleventh. If you call the wedding off, though, the field's wide open again."

"Okay, well…all right. As long as they can't pull a fast one on me. I'll have Morgan home tomorrow night. Wait…she's trying to tell me something."

"I can't leave tomorrow – I have to give some notice at work and pack. I've already got tickets for September second, the night before Claire and Jamie's wedding. That's when we'll go."

Rob thought about arguing with her, then decided against it. He spoke into the phone again. "Morgan needs time to tie up some loose ends here, so we'll be home next Friday. Put Mom on. I'll let Morgan talk to her."

"All right. But don't expect your mother to waste her time planning a wedding until you and your bride actually roll into town. We know your track record. You don't have a chance in hell at pulling this off."

"Thanks a lot for that vote of confidence, Dad," he said, his anger finally getting the best of him. "Don't worry about tracking down Mom. I'll call her cell directly." He hung up with an oath.

"What did he say?" Morgan, finished with her breakfast, approached him, concern in her gaze.

"He can never let me do things my way," he finally said. "Not even my own damned wedding. He says it doesn't count unless we get married at the ranch. The whole town has to be present, too, and since Claire and Jamie are getting married on Labor Day we have to wait at least a month afterwards. That means October 11th. That's six weeks away!"

"That's not too long." Morgan looked pleased at the chance for a ranch wedding.

"Six weeks for my father to think of other ways to screw with me," Rob said. "Mark my words, he'll figure out some way to back out of giving me that land."

"Giving us that land, you mean," Morgan said, glancing at her watch and heading toward the bedroom. "You're not giving up, are you? Do you want to call it off?" She hesitated by the door.

"No." Rob's quick and vehement answer surprised himself as much as her. "My brothers and mother all heard him say he'd give the land to the first son to get married. There'll be five of us against one if he pulls something. Almost a fair fight. I'm supposed to call my Mom and let her know what's going on. She'll want to start to plan the wedding."

"I have to get going or I'll be late for work. How about we call her tonight?"

* * * * *

Morgan sat in her tiny office at Cassidy Wineries, wondering if she could stay in it throughout the next week. She had handed in her resignation and Elliot was simply furious. So far she'd avoided Duncan, but she knew that couldn't last. He often didn't get to work until late in the morning, so any minute now he'd knock on her door and launch into his latest idiocy. She should have quit point blank and left for Montana a week and a half early, but her prudent side – the side that had seen her through a lifetime of needing to watch her own back, since no one else would watch it for her – dictated that she give her employer some notice to find her replacement. Best not to burn every bridge she currently had in the wine industry, in case things went sour with Rob and she found herself back here looking for a job. Besides, in four nights the winery was celebrating the launch of
her
vintage.

She should march back into Elliot's office and tell him exactly what had transpired last night, but what did she expect Elliot to do? He'd make another excuse, pat her arm like a compassionate uncle and sweep the whole affair under the rug. Duncan was his son, after all.

Unable to hide any longer, she slid her door open a crack and stepped into the distillery room, hoping against hope Duncan would stay away.

Nope. He must have been waiting for her.

"Morgan!" he called from behind one of the massive vats. "Vineyard. Now."

She sighed, slowing her pace to a crawl as she followed him outside.

"I spoke to your father this morning," she told his back.

"I hope for your sake you didn't tell any tales out of school, Tate."

"I handed in my resignation."

He stopped short and turned around. "Resignation? Where do you think you're going? No one's going to hire someone as insubordinate as you."

Just as she thought; he would do whatever it took to undermine any job search she made locally. Thank God she didn't have to – yet. "I'm not looking for another job."

"Oh yeah? What are you doing?"

Caution warred with the desire to see him squirm. "Getting married."

She stalked past him toward the vineyards, unprepared for how freeing that revelation felt. For once she didn't care what Duncan was doing behind her back. She didn't care if she was headed in the right direction or what he would tell her to do next. In a sudden surge of excitement, she realized she didn't have to do a damn thing he said for the rest of her time at Cassidy Wineries. What was he going to do – fire her?