Page 80 of The Rancher Married the Wrong Sister
His eyes are the color of winter storms. Gray and utterly without warmth. For a heartbeat, something flickers across his face. Not quite regret, but close. Then his expression hardens again, and he steps toward me.
My heart hammers against my ribs as he cups my face in his large, warm hands. His touch is gentle but impersonal, like he’shandling something fragile that he doesn’t particularly want to break.
When his mouth touches mine, I forget how to breathe.
The kiss is supposed to be perfunctory. A brief press of lips to seal a business arrangement. But the moment his mouth moves against mine, every nerve in my body comes alive. I’ve never been kissed before, and the soft pressure of his lips makes me lean into him before I can stop myself.
His lips are firm and warm, and when I make a small, helpless sound against his mouth, I feel him tense. For just a second, his grip on my face tightens, his kiss deepening almost involuntarily before he jerks back like he’s been burned.
When he pulls away, I can barely breathe. My entire body is trembling, and from the dark look in his eyes, he definitely noticed.
“Congratulations,” the judge says, but his smile looks forced. Even he can tell this isn’t a celebration.
Twenty minutes later, I’m sitting in the back of Gavine’s sleek black limousine, still reeling from that kiss. The leather seats are butter-soft and probably cost more than most people’s cars, but I can barely focus on anything except the way my lips still tingle.
Gavine sits across from me, already on his phone, discussing some business deal in clipped, authoritative tones. He’s completely in his element. The powerful rancher and businessman who just acquired another asset.
That’s all I am to him. An asset.
But if that’s true, why did he kiss me like that? And why can’t I stop staring at his mouth?
The limo glides through the streets of Jackson Hole toward his ranch, and I try to focus on the sprawling Wyoming landscape outside. Mountains rise in the distance like ancient guardians, beautiful and untouchable. Kind of like my new husband.
When he finally ends his call, silence fills the space between us like a living thing.
I clear my throat. “It’s beautiful weather today, isn’t it? I mean, for November in Wyoming.”
He doesn’t respond.
“The mountains look so clear from here. I’ve always loved how they—”
“Stop.” His voice cuts through my nervous babbling like a blade.
I flinch and press my lips together. Even his sharp tone does something to me, makes my pulse skip in ways that should probably worry me.
Gavine leans back against the leather seat, studying me with those storm-gray eyes. When he speaks again, his tone is matter-of-fact, almost bored.
“Let’s be clear about what this is, Wednesday. This marriage is a business arrangement. Nothing more.” His gaze flicks over me dismissively, but I catch the way his eyes linger on my mouth for just a second too long. “Don’t mistake legal paperwork for anything resembling romance.”
The words sting, but the way he’s looking at me sends conflicting signals that make my pulse race.
“I expect you to stay out of my way. Don’t interfere with my business, don’t make demands, and don’t get any foolish ideas about what this arrangement entails.” His voice drops lower, rougher. “Do we understand each other?”
I nod mutely, not trusting my voice.
But as the limo carries us toward his ranch, I can’t shake the feeling that Gavine Launcelot is lying.
About this being just business.
About not wanting me.
And maybe even about the real reason he forced me to marry him.
Chapter Two
THE HOT WATER POUNDSagainst my shoulders, washing away the stress of the longest day of my life. I lean against the marble shower wall, letting the steam envelop me like a protective cocoon. For the first time since this morning’s courthouse disaster, I can actually breathe.
The guest suite Gavine assigned me is gorgeous. All cream marble and soft blues, with a four-poster bed that could sleep six people. But it’s still a cage, no matter how pretty the bars.
