Having the Cowboy's Baby

Author:Stella Bagwell [Stella Bagwell]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2007-11-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

For the remainder of their trip home, Cordero made a point of turning their conversation to lighter subjects. After a while he actually had Anne-Marie smiling and laughing over antics he and his brother had pulled at the ranch. But he couldn’t quit thinking about the man who’d deceived her and broken her spirit.

As far as Cordero was concerned, prison was too good for someone so evil. The man’s incarceration couldn’t repair the damage he’d done to Anne-Marie. Cordero wasn’t sure what or who could repair her, but he could now see why Jules had gone to such lengths to shake his daughter out of her doldrums.

A few minutes later, they arrived at Cane’s Landing. Except for a porch light, the house was dark.

As he always did, Cordero offered her his arm as they walked to the house. This time, as they made their way through the shadows, he was acutely aware of her hand clinging to his forearm and the way her small body leaned closer than usual.

This evening had drawn them closer. He was sure of that. But did she want to be closer?

From the moment he’d first met Anne-Marie, thoughts of undressing her and making love to her had gouged him from all directions. Getting her into his bed had been a goal he’d quickly set for himself. Yet now that he’d learned about the heartache she’d endured, he wasn’t at all sure about the decency of his motives.

With a mental shake of his head, Cordero silently cursed himself. Hell, since when had he ever worried about the consequences of having sex with a beautiful woman? What had come over him anyway? He wouldn’t break Anne-Marie’s heart. She wasn’t in love with him, and he wasn’t lying and making promises of marriage and babies.

Once inside, Anne-Marie crossed the room to switch on a lamp. Cordero was deeply aware of the empty spot by his side.

Turning back to him, she asked, “Would you like coffee before you go to bed?”

During the drive home, tendrils of her copper hair had escaped their pins and now curled loosely upon her shoulders. Her dusky lips were bare, her eyes sleepy. Desire struck him hard and pushed his boots across the polished floor to where she stood waiting for his answer.

“No.” He curved his hands along the back of her upper arms. “Come here — to me.”

“Cordero.”

She said his name with a mixture of longing and regret. Focusing on that first emotion, he tugged her forward until her body brushed the front of his.

“You know that I want you,” he murmured. “And I believe you want me just as much.”

“I can’t,” she said in a choked voice.

Bending his head, he brushed his parted lips against the tender line of her neck. She shivered in his arms.

“I’m not the devil, Anne-Marie. And I’m not that bastard who’s rotting away in prison. I’m just a flesh-and-blood man who wants to make love to you.” His lips slipped up to her ear. His tongue gently laved the lobe before tracing a damp, tantalizing path along the outer edge.

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