The Seduction of His Wife Page 5

  Sarah was just leafing back to her old place in the book when she let out a jaw-wrenching yawn. She shut the book with a sigh, secured the cloth sleeve she always slipped over the racy romance covers so nobody would realize what she was reading, set the book on her nightstand, and shut off the light.

  Sarah carefully scooted under the covers near the edge of the bed, yawned again, and quickly fell into sleep with a smug smile.

  Her muscles were leaden, her mind foggy with colorless images. Sarah only vaguely sensed she was floating in that ethereal gap between conscious awareness and deep sleep, where surreal dimensions materialized in a way that caused dreams to seem real.

  She was reliving Rachel and Kee’s passionate lovemaking, her vivid imagination filling in the blanks from where she’d stopped reading. Only it wasn’t Keenan Oakes her dream had conjured but the equally imposing Alex Knight. And it wasn’t Rachel Foster boldly stroking his body, it was Sarah’s fingers running through the downy-soft hair on his chest.

  This was the fun and the safety of dreams, Sarah decided as she leaned over her dream hero and touched her lips to his chest. A wave of warmth shot through her when he shuddered, encouraging Sarah to let her fingers wander up his shoulder to his neck as she kissed him full on the mouth.

  His arms came around her in a heated embrace, and his tongue enticed her lips apart. Her own passion exploded with pulsing energy, so that when her hero rolled Sarah onto her back and covered her with his body, the ache in the pit of her stomach made her wrap her legs intimately around him. His thick, throbbing manhood pressed through his pants against her panties, and Sarah caught her breath at the appearance of the barriers.

  Rachel was already naked, wasn’t she, and had helped Kee out of his own pants? Right after she’d dropped the flashlight?

  Strong, probing fingers ran under Sarah’s nightgown to the elastic at her waist and slowly pulled her panties down over her hips. Ah, yes, now she remembered. Kee had helped Rachel undress.

  Sarah pushed her panties low enough that she could slide them off with her toes. Her dream hero fumbled with his own pants, then immediately moved back between her thighs. Sarah wrapped her legs around him again, throwing her head back with a moan of delight when he suckled one of her nipples right through her nightgown. He captured her wandering hands and held them to the pillow as he settled more deeply against her—this time making her gasp at the shock of having nothing between them.

  Nothing but glorious, quivering heat.

  He stilled suddenly, the taut muscles of his arms twitching.

  “It’s not trespassing if you’ve been invited,” Sarah whispered.

  A shudder ran through him, shaking them both, and Sarah tilted her pelvis, lifting herself until she could feel the hot tip of his shaft probing the wet folds of her opening.

  He captured her mouth in a hot, consuming kiss, his lips then trailing down to her throat. He thrust forward, and upward—

  Sarah’s gasp of surprise brought her fully awake, and she could only stare wide-eyed as Alex Knight reared up in equally wide-eyed shock. Holy smokes, she wasn’t dreaming! She was making love to Alex for real!

  Well, almost. Was he really awake? Could a…could a man actually do it in his sleep?

  “No, don’t stop,” she rasped, digging her fingers into his shoulders to back up her demand. “Finish it,” she desperately cried as she lifted her hips toward him, her entire body aching to feel him fully inside her.

  A growl erupted from deep in his chest as he pushed through her barrier. Sarah felt a moment’s discomfort, and then he was fully, deeply inside her. She held herself still, not even daring to breathe, until he started to move in a rhythm that began rocking Sarah in waves of blossoming passion.

  Oh, merciful heavens, yes! It felt so good, so beautifully wonderful to be so full. Sarah thought she might die of wonder as she answered his thrusts with tiny moans of encouragement, every nerve in her body focused solely on what she was feeling, each tremor of pleasure surprising her with its intensity.

  Her insides clenched, tightening inward and upward as she began to sense something—something amazing—just beyond her grasp. But then Alex suddenly stilled above her, and Sarah opened her eyes to find his head thrown back, his muscles corded with tension as he pulsed his release.

  He quietly collapsed against her with a growled sigh, and Sarah could only blink at the ceiling in disbelief. That was it? They were done?

  Well, he was done, apparently.

  But she’d just been getting started. She had been about to finally experience it. Fulfillment. The big O. Dammit, he couldn’t be done!

  Sarah pushed at his shoulders. “I can’t breathe.”

  Alex rolled to the mattress with a groan but pulled her with him until she was tucked up against his side. He brushed her hair back from her face, and lightly—if not somewhat negligently—kissed her forehead before he let his head fall back with a deep, contented sigh.

  Sarah stared past his rapidly rising and falling chest. They were going to cuddle now? With her nightgown up around her armpits, his heat scorching her breasts and thighs, and her body still tingling with…with…? Oh my god, what had she done?

  She’d slept with her husband!

  And just consummated a marriage neither of them wanted!

  “Sorry about that,” he suddenly murmured. “You kind of caught me by surprise.” He patted her naked backside. “Just give me a minute, and I’ll see if I can’t take care of you.”

  Take care of…good God, he didn’t even realize what they’d done! He was still half asleep, still drunk, or quite possibly both.

  “I—ah—I need to go to the bathroom,” she muttered, wiggling out of his grasp and sliding off the bed.

  He made a halfhearted attempt to stop her. “Hurry back,” he mumbled when he failed to catch her.

  “Sure,” she agreed, fumbling through the dark to the bathroom, scurrying inside, and quietly closing the door behind her. She didn’t even dare turn on the light, for fear of what she’d see in the mirror.

  What madness had compelled her to invite Alex into her bed to begin with, and then what devil had made her start stroking him? She had actually begged him to finish it.

  Sarah slapped her hands to her fevered cheeks. How was she ever going to face him in the morning? What could she possibly say in her defense? Sorry, Alex, I really didn’t mean to seduce you? I was just a sexually frustrated, twenty-nine-year-old virgin in need of a lay?

  And Grady. How would she ever explain this to Grady?

  Sarah stiffened her spine and balled her hands into fists at her sides. She wasn’t explaining anything to Grady, because she wasn’t telling a soul what she’d done. And Alex just had to promise not to tell anyone, either.

  But he wouldn’t be any more eager to let people know what had happened between them, would he? After all, she hadn’t exactly dragged him into her bed, and she hadn’t poured all that whiskey down his throat. He was just as guilty of poor judgment as she was, wasn’t he?

  Sarah heard movement in the other room, and a bright light suddenly shone under the crack of the bathroom door. Alex was awake? He seemed to be walking around the bedroom.

  Sarah snapped on the bathroom light, then quickly checked to make sure her nightgown completely covered her.

  She heard what sounded like her closet door banging open. What was he doing? She heard hangers sliding, and then something bumped against the bathroom wall. She twisted the doorknob and opened the door to see Alex, wearing only his pants, toss her suitcase onto her rumpled bed.

  “Get dressed,” he said without looking at her, apparently too busy pulling her clothes off their hangers. “You’re out of here.”

  “What?” Sarah asked as he dropped her clothes on top of the closed suitcase.

  She came to an abrupt halt when he spun to face her. And for the first time since meeting Alex Knight, Sarah was actually afraid of him. He looked fully awake and completely sober and angry enough to…to kill
someone. How had the man gone from a sleepy, sated cuddler to a fire-breathing monster in less than two minutes?

  Sarah eyed the doorway leading into the kitchen, but Alex walked over and slammed it shut, planting himself in front of it.

  She immediately backed up to the wall of her bedroom and held out her hands. “It—it’s not what you think. I was dreaming, Alex. I-I thought you were someone else.” She gave him a tentative smile to let him know that she wasn’t mad. “Let’s consider it no point, no foul, and I’ll go spend the rest of the night on the couch.”

  “Dreaming?” he repeated ever so softly, his anger laced with disbelief. “You thought I was someone else?” He took a step forward. “No point, no foul?” he said in a near shout. “You were a fucking virgin!”

  Sarah lifted her chin and said, “I think that’s an oxymoron. Look,” she quickly added when he took another step closer. “Nobody has to know I was a virgin. Nobody even has to know we slept together, for that matter.”

  He folded his arms over his chest, his expression saying she might as well have told him she was the president of the United States. “But wouldn’t that ruin your plan, if we don’t tell everyone we’ve consummated our marriage?” He nodded toward the rumpled bed. “Isn’t that the reason you staged this little seduction?”

  Sarah gasped. “There you go again, accusing me of having an agenda.” She pointed an unsteady finger at him. “I do not want to be married to you! I only went along with Grady’s plan because I thought you were dead.”

  “And now that I’m not? What’s your plan now, Sarah?”

  “I don’t have a plan,” she snapped, walking over to her bureau and opening a drawer to pull out a sweater and a pair of pants. It was damn hard to defend herself wearing only a nightgown. And since having her back to him seemed to have a calming effect on her, Sarah went back to pretending he didn’t exist.

  But she spun around when he started pulling more clothes from her closet and throwing them on the bed. “Pack up your stuff. You’re out of here.”

  “You can’t really mean to kick me out.”

  He nodded. “I can, and I am. You can go to the hotel in Greenville. Grady will come down and see you…” He looked up at the ceiling, then back at her. “Saturday. He’ll see you Saturday or Sunday, after we’ve had a nice, private family reunion.”

  “But it’s the middle of the night!”

  “The pickups have lights. Take whichever one you want.”

  Stunned, she sputtered, “But—but the turkey. I have to put it in the oven at six. And all the other food—it’s only half prepared.”

  He opened the suitcase and started stuffing her clothes into it. “You’re out of here, lady. I don’t trust you any farther than I can spit. I intend to have a nice, long talk with my father, and I intend to be alone with him when I do.”

  “But Delaney and Tucker. They won’t understand.”

  He pointed a piece of her clothes at her. “You leave my kids out of this, or I’ll make you sorry you were even born.”

  Sarah spun back to the bureau. Holy smokes, he was mad. She knew from personal experience how angry men could get when they thought they were being manipulated—especially by a woman—and she’d rather spend the rest of the night braving the cold, dark woods than this man’s anger.

  So Sarah pulled out most of her undies and socks, walked over to the bed without looking at him, and dropped them into the suitcase. She made several more trips back and forth, stuffing everything she possibly could into the suitcase and the backpack she’d grabbed from beside the bureau.

  She felt Alex’s dark, accusing eyes on her the whole time, and it wasn’t until she snapped the suitcase closed and zipped up the backpack that he grabbed the two bags and walked out the bedroom door. “You have two minutes,” he said as he strode into the kitchen. “Then I’m kicking you out with whatever you’re wearing.”

  Sarah picked up the clothes she’d set aside, ran to the bedroom door, and shut it. But dressing proved difficult, what with her shaking so violently. As she was bent over trying to slip into her panties, she noticed the blood on her thigh. That’s when she finally lost what little composure she’d been clinging to and silently started to weep.

  How had everything gone so terribly, horribly wrong? Not twelve hours ago, she’d been bustling around her kitchen, anticipating Thanksgiving dinner with every intention of making it special for her family.

  Only they weren’t really her family, were they?

  Sarah slipped into her jeans and zipped them up, then walked over to the bed and sat down to put on her socks. Her book was sitting on the nightstand, and she picked it up and flung it as hard as she could at the wall. “This is all your fault, Rachel Foster,” she hissed. “Filling my head with your foolishness. There are no heroes in this world, and being smart and feisty only gets a woman in trouble.”

  “Time’s up,” Alex said through the door.

  “I’m coming!” Sarah yelled back, swiping her face with the back of her hand. “I’m putting on my socks!”

  She stood up, took a deep breath, and, with her head held high, opened the door and strode through the kitchen. She stopped at the already open back door, slipped into her jacket and boots, picked up her backpack and suitcase, and pushed through the screen door without looking at Alex. The screen door banged behind her just as the inside door slammed shut, and Sarah shuddered when the dead bolt snapped closed.

  She stood blinking into the black night until her eyes slowly adjusted and she could finally make out the boundaries of the dooryard. She looked at the four pickups parked beside the machine shed, then stepped off the porch and started walking down the driveway. She stopped at the edge of the forest, zipped her jacket up to her chin, hefted the pack over her shoulders and picked up her suitcase, and started walking the eight miles to Oak Grove.

  Chapter Five

  I t was the water that woke him. Cold November water straight from the lake, Alex knew as he sat up with a roar; Grady’s weapon of choice whenever he was mad at one of his sons. This morning his father was in a full rage, judging by the looks of him. Well, what Alex could see. His eyes felt as if they were filled with sand, and the bright morning sunlight made it difficult to focus. The sledgehammer pounding in his head wasn’t helping much, either.

  “Nice to see you, too, Dad,” Alex croaked, his throat begging for some of the water dripping in his eyes.

  “What in hell have you done?” Grady shouted. “I talked to you not ten hours ago, and you promised me everything was fine and that you’d be on your best behavior with Sarah.” He pointed his finger at Alex. “Where is she? And what in hell are you doing in her bed?”

  Alex raised one eyebrow. “I’m alive and well.”

  “I can see that,” Grady snapped. “Where’s Sarah?”

  Alex raised his other brow. “My wife, you mean?”

  “Yes, your wife, you jackass! She’s gone, along with a good deal of her clothes,” he said, pointing toward the closet. He leaned in real close. “Where is she?”

  Alex closed his eyes. “I kicked her out,” he whispered. “I told her to go stay at the hotel in Greenville until she heard from you.”

  His father said nothing, though Alex could see a vein throbbing in his temple when Grady spun around and strode out of the room. Alex sat on the soaked bed, his whole body as limp as the sheets. This still wasn’t the homecoming he’d been expecting. “Where are Delaney and Tucker?” he asked, after finally getting up with a groan and walking into the kitchen.

  “In Oak Grove with Ethan,” Grady said from where he was standing at the sink, staring out the window.

  “But why? You knew I couldn’t wait to see them.”

  Grady looked over his shoulder and scowled. “Because I may be old, but my brain still works.” He turned to face Alex, his eyes narrowed. “After we talked last night, I got to thinking about you and Sarah being alone here all night, and I started worrying that you’d say or do something to upset her.”
He nodded at Alex’s affronted scowl. “So I had Ethan land in Oak Grove, and I borrowed Mary’s truck to come here.” He took a step closer. “You just couldn’t wait for us to get home and we could talk this out, could you? Where’d you take her?”

  “I didn’t take her anywhere. I made her pack her bags and go to Greenville.”

  Grady’s face paled. “When?” he whispered. “What time did she leave?”

  “Around three this morning,” Alex said with a confused frown. “I told her to take one of the trucks and that you’d go see her at the hotel in Greenville on Saturday.”

  Grady’s ashen face turned toward the window, then he looked back at Alex. “She didn’t take one of the trucks, son,” he said softly. “Sarah doesn’t drive.”

  “What?” Alex looked out to see all four pickups parked beside the machine shed. He looked back at his father. “What do you mean, she doesn’t drive?”

  “She lived her entire life on Crag Island,” Grady said. “It’s two miles long and one mile wide, so she never needed to learn to drive.” He stepped up and poked Alex in the chest. “You threw a defenseless woman into the night three hours ago, eight miles from nowhere. You go find her, you hear?”

  Alex backed up and rubbed his chest. “That woman is not defenseless. She has more balls than a brass monkey. She got me drunk last night and seduced me, so she wouldn’t lose her lucrative little setup here.”

  Grady shot his gaze toward the bedroom before he looked back, his face turning a dull red. “Sarah can’t even handle Paul’s flirting with her; she sure as hell wouldn’t have the courage to stage a seduction. She was married to a bullying brute for eight years, so I doubt she even cares for men very much.”

  “Married?” Alex repeated. “Is that what she told you? That she was a widow?” He narrowed his eyes. “She was a damn virgin! And if that doesn’t prove just how far she’s willing to go to stay married to me, then you are old.”