Page 72 of Legacy of Danger
For a split second, panic darted through her, fast and sharp. Trapped. She couldn't breathe. Where was Kevin?
After a deep draw of air, she evaluated the situation.
The solid mass of Vaughn behind her provided warmth, as did the large arm clamped around her chest. To be fair, she did some clamping herself. She loosened the death grip she had on him, frowning at the imprints her fingertips had made on his thick wrist, visible even in the early morning light.
She startled as he cleared his throat next to her ear, then she rolled over, rotating within the cradle of his arm over her chest and another arm resting on the pillow above her head. His morning stubble and half-lidded expression made her heart rhythm flip into brief v-tach.
"Morning." He smiled.
That sounded like a morning-aftermorning.
Oh no. Had she slept with him, like slept-slept? Because she remembered nothing, and damn, if they had made love, at least she should have remembered it. She looked around the room. Was she any good? Was he any good? Hell, look at him. Of course he was good. Why couldn't she remember anything more than drifting off to sleep in his embrace?
She moved her legs under the sheets. Fully clothed.
Same with a jeans-clad Vaughn. And he lay on top of the blankets.
"You're funny when you get tense." The low rumble of his voice relaxed muscles deep in her pelvis.
"We didn't...?"
"No. Not that I didn't think about it a million times last night."
"Oh."
"Yeah,ohis right." His grin was feral and focused. The direct stare made her shiver. "You want to change that situation?"
Of course she did.
They were two consenting adults. He was rugged, strong, and cared about his family. And dollars to donuts, he would be fabulous as they engaged in luscious, muscle-bound, hot rancher sex. If the current pre-coital happiness in his arms reflected even a fraction of the during-sex awesomeness, being with Vaughn would shoot off proverbial fireworks.
So, basically, there was nothing not to like about this scenario.
Except for a future. And, okay, her own lack of self-trust.
Her wild fantasies screeched to a halt.
Mariah needed stability in a relationship. She needed security and assurances in her own decisions where a partner was concerned. Vaughn had a life elsewhere. He was only in town for a short time.
She didn't do flings. She didn't dorisk of failure.
So, did she do Vaughn?
Not today. Maybe not ever.
"Well. Um," she said, not meeting his gaze.
That sensual mouth locked into a hard slash, and in the early morning light, his irises turned coal cold. "Never mind. I got it." He slid his arms out from under her, stood, and cracked his back and neck.
"But—"
"I can tell when a woman isn't interested."
"Of course I was interested. It's just—"
The scratch of his short nails on his stubble sent her vagina into a fit of ecstasy, and she pressed her legs together.
"What do you want, Mariah?" The sexual weight of his words was unmistakable.
