World's Most Eligible Texan (3 page)

“All that fancy talking can turn a girl's head mighty fast. Texas men are too good at it.”

“And Texas women are the prettiest women in the world,” he said softly, his gaze running over her features.

She laughed and set her wine on the table as she looked at him with amusement. His brows arched in question. “That is high-fallutin' talkin'! I'm too tall, too freckled and there's never been a time in my entire life that anyone told me what a beauty I am, so that's a stretch, Aaron.”

He didn't smile in return which made her heart miss a beat, but he gazed at her solemnly while he stroked his fingers through her hair. “Maybe I see something others haven't seen.”

“Oh, heavens, can you lay it on thick!”

“Just telling the truth,” he drawled and smiled a lazy smile at her.

They were in dangerous waters and she glanced around, trying to get the conversation less personal. “If no one lives here most of the time, who takes care of your house?” she asked, looking at the immaculate room.

“We have a staff,” he answered casually without taking his eyes from hers. His fingers stroked her nape in featherlight brushes that ignited fires deep within her. His voice was low. The only light now was from the blazing fire, and there was a cozy intimacy that was made electric by his nearness. “Why are you a teacher?”

“I love children,” she answered, and he nodded his approval. “I feel strongly that all children should be able to read, so I like working with them, particularly in reading. I never had any family. Maybe that's why I feel the way I do about kids. Why did you want to be a diplomat?”

“Everything about it fascinated me,” he said quietly, his green gaze studying her as if he were memorizing every feature. “I thought I could help save the world when I went into it.”

“And now?”

“Now I know that's an impossibility. The old world will keep turning no matter what I do. There will always be wars and intrigue, and now, more than ever, terrorism.”

“You sound disenchanted.”

“Not tonight. Tonight is good,” he said, giving her a heated, direct look that blatantly conveyed his desire.

“Behave yourself, Aaron! You do come on strong.”

“You won't believe me, but I don't usually.” As she smiled, he touched her cheek. “Dimples. You have to have been told your dimples are pretty.”

“Maybe so,” she said. “Tell me about Spain.”

“I'll tell you, but soon I want to show it to you. You'll have your weekends free when you get to Asterland and I can take you to my favorite places in Spain.”

Though she merely smiled at him, his words gave her a thrill. She listened to him describe Spain and Asterland, and she answered his questions about her job. Their conversation roamed over a myriad of subjects as if they had a million things to tell each other. And all the time they talked, his fingers drifted over her hands or nape or ear or played in her hair while he watched her as if she were the first woman he had ever seen.

“Your family has lived in Texas for more than a hundred years, haven't they?” she asked him. He nodded while his fingers stroked her nape and she barely could concentrate on what he was answering. While his index finger traced the curve of her ear, she inhaled deeply, tingles fueling her desire.

“Yep. My great-granddaddy, Pappy Black, ran cattle when he came home after the War Between the States. He amassed the Black fortune. Then my granddad, Rainy Black—I'm named for him—he was Aaron Rainier Black, was a Texas senator, so I grew up around politicians. I'm as Texas as you can get.”

“Sure, Aaron,” she said, thinking of his eastern education. His fingers trailed from her ear down over her throat and along her arm, moving to her knee. His thickly lashed eyes were filled with desire and she tingled along every nerve ending from all his feather touches.
“¿Habla Español?”
she asked.

“Sì. ¿Y usted?”

“
Muy poco.
Only what I've picked up from living in Royal. What other languages do you speak?”

“French, German, Arabic, Italian, Polish and Chinese. My undergraduate degree is in languages and political science and I had to learn Arabic in the military. I had to learn Polish with the State Department.”

She thought again of the vast differences in their lives. “Which colleges did you attend?”

“Harvard for an undergraduate degree,” he replied in an offhand manner. “Now tell me what you like to do? What's fun?”

“Playing with little children, reading. I enjoy doing pencil
drawings. Just simple things. I've taught aerobics before, but not for the past year.” Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and she wondered what it would be like to kiss him. She wanted to kiss him. Why did he have this effect on her? She felt as if sparks constantly danced between them, and her awareness level was at a maximum. With an effort she tried to concentrate on what he was saying.

They sat and talked until a grandfather clock in the hall chimed three in the morning. It seemed she had been with him five minutes, yet it seemed as if she had known him all her life.

By three he had unfastened and removed his cuff links, turned back his white sleeves, kicked off his shoes. Her nerves were tingling and raw, and she was intensely aware of him, looking at his full lower lip and continuing to wonder what it would be like to kiss him.

When the clock softly chimed the third time, she stood. “Well, it's getting late,” she said.

In a fluid movement, he came to his feet instantly and placed his hand on her waist, turning her to face him. One look in his eyes and her breath caught. He drew her closer.

“I feel like I've waited all my life for this moment,” he said softly.

Her heart thudded, and she told herself not to believe what he said, but the words thrilled her as his hand slid behind her head and his arm went around her waist, pulling her against his hard length. He leaned down, his mouth brushing hers and her pulse skipped with the first contact of his lips on hers. Fire and magic. Even more, before her lashes came down, was the look in his eyes of wanting her—as if his words had been the truth and he had been waiting forever.

What was it about this man that melted her physically and emotionally? That made all barriers go down and her body and heart both yield completely? He took her breath and made her pulse race and it seemed so incredibly right, as if she were destined for this night from the day she was born. He rubbed his lips softly against hers again.

“Aaron,” she whispered his name, that from the first moment they'd met had been special, irresistible.

His mouth settled on hers, opening it fully while his tongue thrust over hers, stroking it and conveying such need that she quivered in response. She wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kisses and his passion. She felt his arousal and felt his hands slide over her and then move to her zipper. Cool air played across her shoulders as her dress fell away, and Aaron raised his head to push away the top of her lacy blue teddy. Inhaling deeply, he cupped her small breasts in his large, tanned hands. His breathing was ragged when he bent, and his tongue stroked her nipple.

“You're beautiful,” he whispered. “I need you.”

His words were as seductive as his kisses. Moaning with pleasure, she shook and gripped his shoulders and knew she should stop, but his every touch was magic. Sensations and desire bombarded her. Never in her life had she known passion. Never before had she found a man who ignited desire into blazing flames. She would stop him, but oh, not yet. Not yet…

His thumbs circled and stroked her taut nipples and her insides turned a somersault. Her fingers went to the studs on his shirt, and in minutes she had worked them free and pushed away his shirt and then her hands were on his chest that was lean, hard-corded muscles. Her fingers tangled in the mat of short brown hair across his chest.

Swinging her into his arms while he kissed her, he carried her to a bedroom and then they were in bed together, her length stretched against his. As he peeled away the teddy and her hose, his hands and kisses were everywhere.

Was it the wine? The man? The magic of the night? His beguiling words that made her feel an incredible need in him for her alone?

A dim voice within her urged her usual caution, but it went up in smoke in minutes as he moved lower, trailing kisses to her thighs. His hand slipped between her legs, stroking her, driving her over a brink and making her want what she had
never known, want it all with this man who was so special to her from the first moment she had looked into his eyes.

She helped him peel away his trousers and briefs. He moved over her, hard, ready, breathtakingly handsome as she wrapped her long legs around him and pulled him to her. She heard him whisper, asking if she was protected, and she answered yes, yes, wanting him with a desperate urgency in a manner she hadn't ever dreamed possible while desire demolished all her wisdom and caution.

His mouth covered hers, taking her cries of passion as he slowly entered her. When he raised his head and frowned, she arched her hips, tightened her legs, and pulled him to her.

“Please, Aaron,” she whispered, knowing this night was more than magic for her and she wanted him as she had never wanted anything. She gave her virginity to him eagerly, wanting him and lost in the roaring of her pulse, only dimly hearing him cry out her name as she gasped, carried out of the world into pure ecstasy, finally tumbling over a brink of release.

In the quiet of the fading night he showered her with kisses, and then he held her tightly against him while they talked. His other hand caressed her, and his voice was a deep rumble that she loved to listen to.

“What do you like best in the world, Aaron?” she asked, wanting to discover everything about him she could.

“This night. You in my arms. Long, slow hot kisses, people who care, Switzerland, the ranch. What do you like?” he asked in a lazy voice while he languidly drew his fingers over her hip.

“Tonight, too. Being with you. Little children. Books.” She ran her finger along his jaw that had a faint trace of stubble now. “What do you want out of life?”

“Ahh, that's an easier question. I want a family, a woman who is my best friend and lover. I want to do some good for people, to settle on the ranch—”

“You want to live here on your ranch?” she asked, interrupting him and surprised by his answer.

“Sure. I grew up on the ranch and love it. I want some
more years in the diplomatic service, but then I want to come home to ranching. What do you want out of life?” he asked, gazing into her eyes while she caught his hand to kiss his knuckles lightly.

“I don't think about it much. I want to be a good teacher. I don't want any child to ever pass through my classroom and not be able to read when moving on. They should all learn in first and second grade and never go on until they master reading.”

“No yearning for marriage?”

She was glad it was dark and he couldn't see her blush, because she could feel the heat rise in her cheeks. “You know now, Aaron, that you're the first man in my life. I've never dated much and never thought I would marry.”

“I'll bet the ranch you do.”

When she laughed, he touched her dimple. “Are you a gambling man?”

“Actually no. But I don't think that would be much of a bet. You'll marry, lady.”

“Right now, I'm thinking about going to Asterland. Tell me some more about Europe.”

“Asterland is a beautiful little country. You're going to like it.” She listened to him talk for another twenty minutes and then while she was talking, she heard his deep, regular breathing and realized he was asleep. Hugging him, knowing she would carry memories of this night with her the rest of her life because she had fallen in love, she settled against him and closed her eyes.

She lay in his arms and listened to his heartbeat and his deep steady breathing. He held her tightly as if afraid of losing her. The wonder of the night left her dazed. Aaron was a marvel. Their lovemaking was ecstasy she had never expected to experience. She'd slept, then stirred as dawn spilled into the room, and along with it, reality.

Memories assailed her, and in the light of day, they held clarity and a shocked realization of how he must see the night.

How could she have fallen into his arms and given all to
him the first night she'd met him? She closed her eyes in pain, thinking of her mother and the taunting cries she had been teased with when she was young—“…your mom's the town tramp,” “trash mama,” “she's cheap,” “easy lay”—even worse names.

Shame, shock, fear of what Aaron would think of her, all ran through her mind. Was she that much like her mother after all? After all these years of being so circumspect, so careful, the moment a dashing, worldly man had turned his charm on her, she had thrown prudence over instantly.

Wiping at tears that stung her eyes, she slid out of bed. She could only imagine how Aaron must see her. Then her gaze fell on him and, momentarily, her feelings shifted and longing shook her. He was sprawled in bed, the sheet down below his narrow waist. His body was lean, muscled and looked like the body of a runner. The mat of dark brown hair across his chest tapered down in a line to his navel. Her gaze traveled lower to the sheet covering him, but her memories conjured up visions of Aaron last night when he was hard, ready and so incredibly male and appealing.

Giving a little shake of her shoulders, she knew she didn't want to see those probing green eyes open and look at her in a demeaning manner. Nor did she want to hear him make excuses or make light of an evening that had taken her heart. Again, she wondered how she could have succumbed so swiftly. Was it in her genes? She had fought that notion all her life, treating boys coldly, keeping barriers around her when she was older, barriers that turned guys off quickly.