Page 79 of Texas Honor
“I feel so strange,” she whispered unsteadily.
“So do I.” He laughed gently. “Would you like to know where?”
“Hush,” she mumbled, hiding her hot face.
He ran his fingers through her thick short hair, testing its silkiness. “Were you frightened of what was happening?” he asked softly.
“A little,” she told him.
His fingers touched her ear, sending delicious thrills through her sensitized nerves. “Eventually, I’ll have to know.”
“Know...what?” she hesitated.
“Whether or not you’re capable of giving in to me completely,” he replied. His chest, beneath her bare breasts, rose and fell heavily. “This kind of thing gets unmanageable pretty quickly, Maggie. For Becky’s sake, we can’t have an illicit relationship. You see that, I hope.”
Things were going too fast. She stood up, tugging her blouse together, and stared down at him. “It’s too soon,” she said, wary.
“No, I don’t think it is.” He watched her fumble with buttons. He didn’t bother with his own, merely sprawled back in the chair, his broad, hair-covered chest bare and welcoming, his mouth swollen and sensuous and smiling with pure male appreciation of her. “You’d better start seeing it that way, too, honey. You’re going to need some help when you get into court. Especially now, with your ex-husband’s scandalous opinion of our relationship.”
“I’ll deny it.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “By all means,” he suggested, and picked up his brandy snifter. “His attorney will get you on the stand and ask if you and I have ever been intimate, you’ll blush like somebody’s embarrassed child, and he’ll have Becky.”
That was true, but it didn’t help her pride. She finished fastening her blouse and glared at him. “What do you propose to do about it—marry me?” she asked with faint sarcasm.
“Why not?” he replied casually, and took a sip of brandy. “You’re pretty and honest, you’ve got a lovely little girl, and I’m a lonely man. You need money, I’ve got it. We’re a match made in heaven.”
“Those aren’t good reasons to get married,” she returned, but she felt as if the ground had been cut from under her. She wanted him. Physically, at least. He attracted her, and perhaps she wouldn’t freeze in his arms. He was strong and powerful and rich. He’d take care of them both, of Becky and herself. And in bed, he’d give her what she’d never had with a man. But why was he offering? He wasn’t a marrying man, he’d said it before. What did he expect to get out of it? Or did he just want Maggie so much that he was willing to give up his freedom to have her? That didn’t make a lot of sense, either. It would be a risk, marrying him. What if it didn’t work out?
The turbulence of her thoughts showed in her face as she looked at him.
“Go ahead,” he said, “torment yourself with what-ifs.” He finished the brandy. “You’ve got a little longer to play on the line before I start reeling you in.” He got to his feet and towered over her. “Just remember, honey, I make a hell of an adversary. I won’t give up or give in. If I want you, I’ll have you.”
“By force?” she demanded with a bit of her old spirit.
“Never by force, pretty girl,” he replied. He bent and brushed his mouth over hers. “I want to ravish your senses, not take something you don’t want to give me. Physical pleasure has to be shared, or it’s selfish. You’ve had enough of that already.”
She searched his eyes, afraid of him, hungry for him. “Can it be shared, Gabriel?” she asked in a whisper, her eyes wide and curious.
“If both partners are intent on giving more than they expect to get,” he said enigmatically.
“And it...isn’t supposed to hurt?”
His eyes burned down into hers. “No,” he bit off. “It isn’t supposed to hurt. Ever.”
She dropped her gaze to his bare chest. “I didn’t know. There was no one I could ask, you see. Even my best friend, Trudie. I can’t talk about things like that.”
“Except with me, apparently,” he mused, his eyes gently indulgent. He caught her hand in his. “Sit down.”
He dropped down onto the big sofa and let her curl up next to him again as he lit a cigarette. “I hope you’re not sleepy. This may take a while. Don’t look at me, if it helps. I’m going to tell you all about sex, Miss Turner. I think it’s time, don’t you?”
She looked up at him, feeling her face color. “I know...”
“Nothing,” he said for her, grinning. “But you will when I’m through. Now be quiet, and listen.”
It was fascinating. He might have been a university lecturer giving a cram course in sex education. He did it without vulgarity, in a matter-of-fact way that didn’t embarrass or shock her. And when he was through, she knew more than marriage and having a child had taught her.
She caught her breath. “I never realized it was so complicated,” she told him.