For Zara Whitley, a reluctant offer from rancher Matthew Caldwell erupts into an afternoon of illicit pleasure during a thunderstorm. But her joy suddenly turns to heartache as Matthew decides to put an end to the relationship before it begins and before she has a chance to inform him of her pregnancy.
When the Montana widower learns that the woman who has been as much a friend and a temptation to him is carrying his child, his lust and desire to slake his needs inside her ripe little body escalates, but can he overcome the guilt he deals with at his wife’s death and show Zara that his heart is truly hers for the taking?
Matthew paced in the living room.
Inside the house with him was Zara, alone in that tiny room wearing his old university shirt and not a stitch of underwear. No doubt his shirt was brushing against her smooth dark brown skin, caressing the soft triangle between her legs. Matthew raked a hand through his hair. What the hell was he doing, pacing around thinking of what Zara's pussy looked like, how good it would feel to sink his cock into her?
He was supposed to be telling her all the reasons a friendship and relationship between the two of them wouldn't be possible. Only thing was he could scarcely remember those reasons himself.
His hand fell to the front of his pants. Damn. It had been a long time, no, he'd never, been this hard for a woman. Fucking painful. It felt so good riding with her behind him on the horse. His cock had shot to life the moment she'd whispered his name. And after he'd seen the small trace of fear in her eyes, he'd wanted nothing more than to hold her, reassure her that he would never allow anything to happen to her.
Matthew squeezed his cock. Zara might not be the most gorgeous woman, but she had the type of beauty inside and out that made a man want to fall to his knees and worship the quiet sweetness and gentleness she exuded.
But he wouldn't. What he would do is go in there and…
What? Hurt her feelings for being kind and friendly to you. Matthew paused halfway down the hall. No, he couldn't hurt her and he didn't want to. But he had to do something, say something to her.
A barrage of thunder rolled outside spurring Matthew into action. He swung the door open. The words he planned to utter died on his lips the instant he saw Zara sitting on the chair with her knees bent and drawn up to her chin, her focus centered on the spinning machine.
Alerted to his presence, she looked up shifting her gaze to where he stood by the doorway. Her feet hit the floor. She jumped up from the chair and raced across to the machine. Her hands grasped the handle of the dryer and Matthew closed the door with a resounding click.
Frowning, her hands remained on the machine. “I want to check if they're dry.”
He strode in front of her, straightening to purposely intimidate her with his height. Bearing down on her, he demanded, “Look at me.”
Slowly, she looked up, bright glossy eyes staring back at him.
“Why did you have to do it? You knew I was married and every fucking time we met, you had to give me those looks as if you thought I was going to leave my wife and go to you.”
She gasped and her eyes bulged. “I never thought that. I swear. I know you don't think of me in that way. I would never-”
The loud beep of the machine blared, knifing the tension.
Zara quickly spun away, escaping his attention. He caught sight of her hands shaking as she opened the dryer removing the clothes and clutching them in a ball to her chest.
Shit. He shouldn't have attacked her like that. But she had to know. On some level Zara had to know what she'd been doing to him, making life inside his ill-fated marriage more complicated than it had to be.
“I just need a minute to change and then I'll head out,” she said in a low voice, averting her gaze.
She had to be out of her mind. Frustrated, Matthew growled, “I thought I made it clear there's no way in hell I'm letting you drive in this storm.”
“If I'm not allowed to leave, can I at least have some privacy so I can change into my clothes?” She tried to walk past him, but he blocked her path, trapping her with one hand plastered on the wall above her head.
He slid his gaze over her slender figure concealed by the oversized shirt. Although her height wasn't much to speak of her legs were long, sleek. He raised his head and looked her dead on. “I'm not going anywhere.”
She shook her head. “I never thought you were cruel.”
“I'm not.” Matthew drew in a breath and lifted a lock of damp hair matted to the side of her face. “Why are you afraid to change in front of me? You think I didn't get an eyeful when we came inside from the rain?”
She drew the bundle of clothes tighter to her middle, pulled in her arm as if that could prevent him from seeing the way her lush nipples peaked against the fabric.
“I'm not afraid.”
“Then take it off.” He tucked a finger under the collar, daring her. She stared at him, her brown eyes glossy.
Damn, damn, damn.
Not a single man on earth could miss the heat in her eyes. Zara Whitley was hot for him. His cock went rock hard. He knew the second his balls seethed with cum.
“You're afraid, aren't you?” he insisted.
She shook her head, damp curls falling loosely above her shoulders. Matthew placed his finger on the spot where her nipple peaked through the shirt.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “You're terrified of what I'm going to see when you take off that shirt.” He took his hand from her breast, slipping it beneath the shirt while the other slid to her thigh.
“Please, Matthew, don't.” Her body stiffened and it looked as if she had quit breathing.
He hardened his jaw and closed his eyes, gliding his hand farther along her upper thigh all the way to her naked pussy. Zara thrashed her head and bit her lips, a strangled sound escaping. Dipping a finger between her folds, Matthew's breath lodged in his throat. He locked his gaze to hers. Jesus. He'd known all along that she was attracted to him, but not once did he think she would be this aroused.
“Zara…” His voice trailed off. Matthew kept his fingers in place, loving the feel of her wetness. For him.