Page 35 of The Texan's Baby Proposal

They didn’t stay a long time, once they’d finished talking to his grandfather and made sure his grandmother was settled in and needed nothing. Then they said their goodbyes.

“He’s happy and it was nice of you to come. He told me I married a beautiful woman,” Marc said as they got into the pickup. He smiled at Lara. “He’s right.”

“Thank you. But I’m not sure he can see very well.”

“He can see well enough. Your red dress is perfect. That would cheer up a skeleton.”

“I hope I don’t have to do that,” she said, laughing at him.

“Hey, the guys are going out again tonight. Want to join them?”

“Sure. That was a fun evening last time.”

“I hoped you’d say that. Seven tonight, then?”

“Seven it is.”

When they got back to Marc’s house he went inside to change to go to work.

He didn’t see Lara again before he left, but tonight they would go dancing and he would be with her all evening. He had plans for afterward, too. He had already gotten a hotel room so they would not have to worry about driving back to the ranch.

* * *

Lara had more fun than she’d had the first time. This time, some of the guys politely asked her to dance. She suspected they did so to be nice to the boss’s new wife, but she accepted their offers nonetheless. The evening was fun, but it was Marc who took her breath away. Tonight, his navy Western shirt was open at the throat. He had a hand-tooled leather belt with a big silver belt buckle that she suspected he’d won in a rodeo. He was charming and exciting, and when they drove to the hotel, her heart raced because she knew they would kiss.

She was supposed to be guarding her heart, so what was she doing going dancing with him and kissing him?

She had the perfect answer to that nagging voice inside her head. She wasn’t in love with him and she hadn’t gone to bed with him. As long as she could honestly say she wasn’t in love, she would be okay. There’d be no heartbreak in her future.

When they walked up to her room, he took her key and opened her door. She entered and turned to say something to him but forgot her words when she looked up at him. His brown eyes held so much desire, she felt weak in the knees.

“You’re gorgeous, Lara. I want you,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him for a heated kiss.

Kissing him in return, their tongues stroking, stirring sensations that made her moan with pleasure, she held him tightly. His waist was narrow and she could feel his hard arousal pressing against her through his thick jeans. She wanted him, too. She wanted his kisses, his hands on her, his mouth on her.

His arms tightened around her as he kissed her. In minutes he had her red blouse unbuttoned and pushed open. He unfastened her bra and cupped her breasts in his warm hands. As his thumbs circled each taut point, he stepped back to look at her.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “I want to make love to you all night.”

“Marc, you know where that will lead.”

“We’re married. I’m your husband. You’re already pregnant. You want my hands and mouth on you just as badly as I want to kiss and make love to you. You’re gorgeous, Lara, and I’ve wanted you all evening,” he said, repeating the arguments he had given her before. He drew her to him to kiss away any protest she had.

He was right about everything. She ached for his hands and mouth on her. Would once be so terrible? Could she go to bed with him and still say no the next time? One time didn’t have to mean she would fall in love with him. Far from it.

His kiss was making it difficult to think about the consequences and the reasons she didn’t want to make love. They seemed not as threatening when she was in his arms and his kisses were driving all thoughts into oblivion. She could do this and go back to life like it was. One night with him wouldn’t change her life. She could say no later after this one time.

One by one, her protests crumbled.

His black hair fell in ringlets on his forehead and he had the dark shadow of stubble on his jaw. He was handsome and exciting, a man who always knew what he wanted and went after it. And he usually got it.

She was his wife and she wanted his loving, his kisses and caresses. He was fabulous in every way, exciting, handsome, sexy, fun and capable. Tonight she wanted to make love with him, to be a real wife to him. For one night. Tomorrow she would go back to a sensible restraint. One night would not change everything, she repeated to herself.

He kissed her again, passionately, his tongue stroking hers, touching the corners of her mouth, making her shake with need. His hands roamed over her, unfastening her belt and pulling it free. She barely noticed, but soon she leaned away to undo his big buckle and then unfasten his jeans and push them away. He stepped back to yank off his boots and shed his clothes, watching her as she did the same, and in minutes he’d peeled away the last of her clothes.

“You’re beautiful,” he said hoarsely, picking her up and carrying her into the bedroom where he yanked the covers off the bed and set her on her feet. After one long glance at her nakedness that had her skin burning, he pulled her into his embrace and kissed her again.

Her heart pounded with excitement and desire. His masculine body was perfection. She ran her hands across his broad, muscled shoulders, his hard, bulging biceps. His stomach was flat, a washboard of muscle. His manhood was thick and hard and ready to love her.

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