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KRISTI GOLD
Czcionka:

“I suppose we should get this over with so I might get a good night’s sleep.”

Without warning, Sebastian hoisted her up on the edge of the gate, causing her dress’s hem to ride up her thighs. And while she made the appropriate adjustments, he climbed into the truck bed and had the nerve to position himself behind her, his long legs dangling on either side of hers. “Are you comfortable?” he asked as he circled his arms around her middle.

“No, I am not. I cannot have a decent conversation when I cannot see your face.”

“You only have to listen to my voice.”

Oh, that voice. That low, grainy bedroom voice that had enticed her on so many nights. And days. No matter how deep their conflicts had run, he had always been able to seduce her into submission.

Nasira found herself leaning back against him, and turning her thoughts to the danger in succumbing to his power. “This is wrong, Sebastian,” she said with little conviction.

“This is right, sweetheart. You’re my wife.”

* * *

In Pursuit of His Wife is part of the Texas Cattleman’s Club: Lies and Lullabies series—Baby secrets and a scheming sheikh rock Royal, Texas

In Pursuit
of His Wife
Kristi Gold


www.millsandboon.co.uk

KRISTI GOLD has a fondness for beaches, baseball and bridal reality shows. She firmly believes that love has remarkable healing powers, and she feels very fortunate to be able to weave stories of love and commitment. As a bestselling author, a National Readers’ Choice Award winner and a three-time Romance Writers of America RITA® Award finalist, Kristi has learned that although accolades are wonderful, the most cherished rewards come from networking with readers. She can be reached through her website at www.kristigold.com or through Facebook.

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Extract

Copyright

One

Seated in a wicker glider on the mansion’s stately porch, Nasira Edwards admired the beauty of the Wild Aces, the ranch her brother, Rafiq, had bought his beloved bride-to-be, Violet. Nasira appreciated the way landscaped lawns gave way to green pastureland. She relished the warm May breeze, the climate so different from London this time of year. When she had originally traveled to Royal, Texas—home to the legendary Texas Cattleman’s Club—she had done so to prevent Rafe from exacting revenge on his friend, Mac, for a mistake she had made over a decade ago. She had come to clear the air, right past wrongs, and fortunately she had succeeded. Yet that had not been the only reason behind the journey. She yearned for the peace this place could provide, yet peace had not come. The lingering pain of loss was simply too overwhelming.

In response to the memories, she withdrew the bracelet from the pocket of her dress and studied the tiny silver rattle charm she had received upon confirming her pregnancy. A surprising gift from a husband who had not embraced fatherhood. Still, she had viewed the welcome gesture as a symbol of hope for a bright future, until the day all hope had been splintered like shards of fragile glass.

Her palm automatically came to rest on her abdomen, now as barren as her life had been for a while. The baby she had so desperately wanted, and tragically miscarried, had changed her completely. Odd how she could miss someone she had known for such a brief time. And strange how badly she missed Sebastian, though he had been emotionally absent for the past six months. She had had no choice but to continue to put physical distance between them in an effort to reassess their future.

When the door opened to her left, Nasira expected to find her brother, Rafiq, checking on her welfare. Instead, Rafe’s friend, Mac McCallum, stepped outside and gave her a pleasant smile. “Are you doing okay?”

She did not deserve his good humor or respect after what she had done to him in the distant past. “I’ve been enjoying the Texas sunset.”

“Looks to me like that old sun has been gone a while,” he said. “My sister sent me out here to tell you dinner will be ready in a few.”

Food held little appeal in recent days. “I appreciate Violet’s hospitality, but I am not very hungry.”

“Suit yourself, but if you keep going this way, you’ll be blown to New Mexico if the wind picks up steam.”

She smiled reluctantly and stood. “I suppose if that is a possibility, I should attempt to eat something. Are you staying for dinner?”

“Not tonight. I’m meeting up with Andrea.”

Nasira suspected Mac had feelings for his personal assistant that went beyond the boardroom, even if he could not admit it to himself, according to her future sister-in-law, Violet. “Is this business or pleasure?”

He frowned. “Business, of course.”

“It’s rather late in the day for that, is it not?”

“Unfortunately it comes with the territory of McCallum Enterprises.”

When the discussion lulled, Nasira saw her chance to verbally make amends for past mistakes. She studied the wooden planks beneath her feet for a moment before regarding him again. “I wanted to extend another apology for what I did to you all those years ago. The guilt has been unbearable.”

Mac lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “Hey, you were young. We were both young. You were just trying to get out of an arranged marriage to a man twice your age.”

That ill-fated visit to the university to stay with her brother had set a horrible course that had led to Rafe’s need for revenge. “Yet I was wrong to use you to achieve that goal, especially when I climbed into your bed for the sole purpose of having my father discover us. And because our father blamed Rafe for not looking after me, that led to his determination to seek revenge on you. I shudder to think what might have happened had I not come here to intervene.”

“It all turned out okay,” Mac said. “He’s no longer trying to buy up the town to get back at me, he’s going to marry my sister, and we’re going to be one big happy family.”

Nasira was happy for them all, but still... “Even after Rafe’s torture and confinement for years due to my errors in judgment, he has forgiven me. I suppose I need to know if you will forgive me as well, though I would understand if you would not.”

“Consider it done, Nasira. That’s old water under the bridge now that Rafe knows I didn’t really sleep with you. And since he’s marrying my sister, I consider us all one big happy family.”

Relief washed over her, though she couldn’t claim to be happy over the state of her own marriage. “I so appreciate your understanding.”

“No problem. Mind if I ask you something?”

“Not at all.”

He raked a hand through his dark blond hair. “Don’t take this wrong, but I’m wondering what the hell your husband was thinking when he let you get away?”

The course of the conversation made her somewhat uncomfortable. “It is rather complicated. Sebastian is complicated. After ten years of marriage, at times I wonder if I know him at all.”

“One thing I do know. When a man doesn’t realize the value of his wife, that’s borrowing trouble. I just hope he comes around soon and realizes what he’d be giving up.”

If only she could believe Sebastian had the capacity to be transformed into someone who would fight for their relationship. “I truly appreciate your concern and understanding, Mac.”

“You’re welcome. Guess I’ll be heading home to the Double M now.” He started toward the steps but paused and faced her again. “Before I leave, I’d just like to say it’s fairly clear you don’t need another big brother, but if you ever want a sounding board, you know where to find me.”

How nice to come upon such a benevolent man. She certainly had not received so much compassion from her own husband in quite some time. “Thank you.”

Mac returned to her and rested his palms on her shoulders. “Keep your chin up and keep standing your ground. You deserve the best.”

Until six months ago, she had believed she had been blessed with the best of everything. Almost. “For the sake of clarification, Sebastian is not mean or cruel. He is simply too controlled and at times, distant. I have often wished he would lower his guard and demonstrate some sort of emotion, but I’ve accepted that it will most likely never happen—”

“Unhand my wife, you bloody bastard!”

Nasira barely had time to comprehend what she had heard before her estranged husband rushed onto the porch, drew back his fist and hit Mac in the chin, knocking the rancher backward against the brick wall.

When Mac gave Sebastian a menacing look, Nasira returned to reality in time to step between the men. “What are you doing, Sebastian?”

He pointed at Mac and sent him a menacing glare. “I’ll not allow another man to grope my wife.”

Never had she’d seen Sebastian act this way, and as much as she deplored violence, and despite her shock over his sudden appearance, she was pleasantly surprised, albeit somewhat mortified. “Oh, for goodness’ sake. He is only a friend and he was not groping me.”

Mac pushed away from the wall, rubbed his chin and glared at Sebastian. “If I didn’t think so highly of your wife and her brother, I’d invite you to take this out into the yard and finish it, you jackass.”

Sebastian balled his fists at his sides. “I would be glad to finish this.”

Nasira spun on her husband. “Stop this right now, Sebastian. No one will be fighting if I have any say in the matter, and I do.” She turned back to her friend and sent him an apologetic look. “Mac, I am so very sorry for my husband’s behavior. I assure you he’s not normally so impulsive with total strangers. And if you would not mind, I would like a few moments alone with him.”

“No problem,” Mac said before turning an acrid look on Sebastian. “I’m going to give you a pass, Edwards, and only because you’re Nasira’s husband. But don’t push your luck by trying something like that again.”

Sebastian straightened his tie and smirked. “If I find you touching Nasira again, I cannot promise there won’t be a repeat performance.”

“Just take better care of your wife and you won’t have to worry about me.”

After Mac disappeared into the darkness, Nasira prepared for a confrontation. “What were you thinking, and why on earth are you here?”

Sebastian opened and closed his fist. “I wasn’t thinking, only reacting to a man with his hands on my wife. A man from her past, no less. And I have come to escort that wife back to London.”

Her fury began to escalate. “First of all, nothing ever existed between myself and Mac, other than he was attempting to assist me in fooling my father into believing I’d been compromised.”

“He looked as if he would like to compromise you in earnest a few moments ago.”

She refused to give credence to his suspicions. “Your imagination is evidently running wild. And most important, I am not your property, Sebastian. I will return when I decide to return. If I decide to return.”

“You’re my wife. You belong with me.”

At least he hadn’t said she belonged to him, as if that were any consolation. “I came here to gain some perspective and I am going to stay until that is accomplished. You might as well climb back on the jet and wait at home for word from me.”

“I refuse to go until this issue is resolved.”

Despite his stubborn attitude, Nasira began to notice how handsome he looked and knew immediately she would lose her determination if he stayed. Too much time had passed since they had made love—the one thing that had always been right with their convenient marriage. Yet that had been his decision, not hers. “At the very least I will be here until Rafe and Violet’s wedding at the end of the month.”

“I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

She brought out the best argument to convince him to go—the shipping business he owned and ran. “I cannot believe you would ignore your duties and abandon the company for any length of time.”

“I own the company. I can do what I please.”

Such a frustrating man. “Do you have an answer for everything?”

He sent her a slow, easy smile. The smile he had given her all those years ago from across a very crowded ballroom, as if they had been thrust into a storybook scene. The smile that had convinced her to enter into an arrangement to escape her father’s clutches. “Have you had dinner?”

No, and she had begun to feel the effects. “I have not, although Violet has prepared a meal.”

“I’m certain she will understand if you would rather dine with your husband. We could continue our discussion then.”

While Nasira took a moment to consider her options, the door swung open again and out walked Rafe, her tall, dark, handsome overly-protective brother.

He immediately eyed Sebastian with disapproval. “I see you did not follow my advice and remain in London, brother-in-law.”

Sebastian looked equally miffed. “And when we spoke by phone two days ago, I made it quite clear I would make that decision without your interference.”

Nasira stared at her husband before returning her attention to her sibling. “Rafiq bin Saleed, why did you not tell me you spoke with Sebastian?”

Rafe did not appear the least bit contrite. “You mentioned on numerous occasions you did not want to be disturbed by him.”

“And he refused to allow me to speak with you when you ignored my calls to your cell,” Sebastian added.

She despised it when men insisted she could not look after herself. “You had no right to take the choice out of my hands, Rafe.”

“It makes little difference now,” Sebastian said. “I’m here and I intend to make the best of the situation.”

She only wished she knew what else he intended. That information would only be gained if she accepted his invitation to dine with him tonight. “I’m going to accompany Sebastian to dinner. I will be gone an hour or so.”

“Do you believe that is wise, Nasira?” Rafe asked.

“We bloody believe that is none—”

“I can speak for myself, Sebastian. I am no longer your charge, Rafe. I can take care of myself. Tell Violet I truly appreciate her hospitality. We should go now, Sebastian, before I change my mind.”

With that, Nasira followed Sebastian down the porch steps and when she didn’t immediately spot a sedan, she paused on the pavement. “How did you arrive here?”

He nodded toward a shiny black truck at the end of the drive. “This is all they had available to rent at the airport.”

Nasira covered her mouth to keep from laughing. “Oh, my. Can you handle that?”

He looked somewhat incensed over what he apparently considered an insult to his masculinity. “Of course I can handle it. I made it here, did I not?”

“All right,” she said, and then continued toward the monstrosity.

Once there, Sebastian opened the passenger door and held out his hand. “Your cowboy chariot, madam. Let me assist you.”

“I am almost six feet tall, Sebastian. I can manage climbing into a truck by myself.”

“Only trying to be a gentleman, Sira.”

The sound of his pet name for her stopped Nasira in her tracks. “Do you know how long it has been since you called me that?”

He winked. “Perhaps too long.”

She had no clue where all the charm and machismo had been hiding. Following the miscarriage, he had spent long hours at work and little time with her. Perhaps he had turned a corner that would lead to change. Only time would tell. In the interim, Nasira would remain cautiously optimistic.

* * *

As they sat in the red booth in the Royal Diner, Sebastian found his wife to be predictably cool. And as always, very beautiful. The white cotton dress fit her to perfection, contrasting with her long, dark hair draped over her slender shoulders. Since her departure, he’d spent many a night in their bed, longing for her company. Since the loss of their child, he’d spent most of his time avoiding her out of fear. Not fear of her. Fear of losing her. Yet that was exactly what he had done by pushing her away. A bloody self-fulfilling prophecy that he couldn’t explain without baring raw emotions.

Pushing the thoughts away, he turned his attention to the plastic-covered menu and scanned the unpalatable selections. “What do you recommend, Sira? The double cheeseburger or the fried catfish plate?”

That earned him her smile. “I realize this place isn’t exactly your cup of tea, but I find it charming.”

“I find it overly quaint and a heart attack waiting to happen.”

“They do have salads and I hear the grilled chicken is very good.”

He closed the menu and set it aside. “I will make do with the limited choices.”

“What are you having?”

A tremendous urge to kiss her. “I’m going to sample the steak. And you?”

She laid the red-checkered napkin in her lap. “Definitely a salad.”

“You should eat something a bit heartier. You’re too thin.”

“I am the same weight as I was before I left London.”

“I’m only concerned about you, Sira.”

She sent him a skeptical look. “Oh really? Where was all this concern over the past six months?”

He didn’t feel this was the time or the place to get into such a serious subject, and thankfully a waitress arrived to interrupt their conversation.

She patted her rather large blond hair, pulled a pencil from behind her ear and a notepad from the pocket of the red apron. “Howdy. I’m Darla. What can I get the two of you darlin’s to drink? Maybe some sweet tea?”

He couldn’t quite fathom these strange Texas customs. “I prefer to sweeten my tea myself. With sugar and milk.”

“She means cold tea,” Nasira said. “I will take a glass with lemon.”

He needed something much stronger to make it through this evening. “Bring me ale.”

The woman raised a painted eyebrow. “Ginger ale?”

Bloody hell. “Beer.”

“Sebastian, I cannot drive that truck,” Nasira said. “For that reason, I suggest you forego the ale.”

She did have a point and in accordance with his plan, he needed to prove himself worthy of her company. “Water will be fine.”

“With lemon?” Darla asked.

“Why not? If that is fine with my wife.”

Nasira frowned. “Of course it is. And I would like a salad with the dressing on the side.”

“She would also like the grilled chicken,” Sebastian added despite Nasira’s disapproving look. “I’ll have the rib eye. Make certain it’s cooked through.”

Darla looked somewhat appalled. “You mean well done?”

“Precisely.”

The waitress jotted down the order then gathered the menus. “You two aren’t from around here, are you?”

Sebastian sent her a mock grin. “What gave us away?”

“The men around here order their meat rare.” With that, Darla waddled away, muttering under her breath.

Nasira immediately turned a sharp gaze on him. “Why do you insist on doing that?”

He opted to play ignorant. “Doing what?”

“Ordering my meals for me. I am quite capable of deciding what and how much I eat.”

“I’ve always ordered for you, Sira.”

“I know and I do not care for it.”

“And you waited ten years to tell me?”

“It seemed simpler not to make waves and avoid conflict.”

Did she think so little of him? “I’m not your father, Nasira. If you want something from me, you need only ask.”

She stared at him a few moments. “I want another baby.”

The one thing he felt he could not give her. “Impossible.”

“Why, Sebastian?”

He could only offer her a partial truth. “You had a devil of a time when you miscarried. The doctor said—”

“That I am quite capable of conceiving again and carrying to full term. The risk is not any greater than any woman who has lost a child in the first trimester.”

He imagined his own mother had believed that very thing. “Look, this is not the time or the place to discuss this.”

She lifted her chin and leveled a determined glare on him. “Unless we discuss it, I will not be returning to London with you in the foreseeable future.”

Sebastian swallowed around his shock. Not once during their time together had she issued threats. “We will talk about this some other time.”

The waitress returned with their drinks, and they waited in silence for their order to arrive. All conversation ceased as they ate food that was surprisingly palatable. He spent a good deal of time watching the patrons, when he wasn’t watching his wife pick at her meal.

Unfortunately, she only afforded him a glance when he asked, “How do you find the fare?”

“Adequate,” she said and then took another bite.

He wondered if he would spend the next few days dealing with one-word answers while attempting to convince her to come home. Would she rebuff his advances, or eventually return to what they once had? He longed for the latter. He longed for her. All of her. First, he had to regain her trust and respect, if at this juncture, and in light of his mistakes, that were even possible.

By the time he had paid the bill, Sebastian worried he had ruined his chances at reconciliation.

Not yet. Not until he convinced her they belonged together, with or without children. How exactly he would achieve that goal remained to be seen. He knew only one way to do this—by using a tried and true technique that had never failed to turn her into clay in his hands.

* * *

“Sebastian, what are you doing?”

“Finding a private place to talk.”

He had definitely found it, Nasira realized when he continued past the Wild Aces and took a dirt road that forked to the right. Once he reached the fence line, he backed the truck up beneath some low-hanging tree branches.

Before Nasira could voice a protest, Sebastian slid out of the seat, rounded the hood and opened her door. “Now if you will come with me please.”

Clearly he had taken leave of his senses. “I refuse to traipse around in the dark, Sebastian.”

“We’re not going to traipse. We’re going to sit in the back of this truck.”

She felt certain that might not be in her best interests. “Why can we not remain in the front seat?”

“Because it’s a beautiful night that should be spent beneath the stars and the moon.”

She started to say they could barely see the stars but the opportunity to respond was lost when he reached in, took her by the waist, and lifted her out and onto her feet. “First that dreadful fight with Mac, and now you are manhandling me like some Neanderthal. What has come over you?”

“My behavior isn’t necessarily so out-of-character for me, though it’s been quite a few years since I’ve engaged in it.”

Nasira released a cynical laugh. “You will have a difficult time convincing me that you ever behaved in that manner. In all the years I’ve known you, I have never seen you raise your voice, much less your hand.”

He smiled. “Oh, you would be surprised what a scrapper I was in my formative years. I managed to get tossed out of three boarding schools before I finally settled down in my final year before university.”

She could barely make out his smile, but she could hear the pride in his voice. “That is definitely news to me and frankly somewhat appalling.”

He leaned over and brushed a kiss across her cheek. “Are you certain you’re appalled, or did it perhaps impress you?”

It had both surprised and in some ways set her senses on fire, not that she would dare make that admission. “It served to remind me what ridiculously volatile creatures men can be.”

“Let’s find a place to sit before we continue this conversation.”

As long as they remained upright, she should be safe from giving in to his sensual charms. Then again, he had not attempted to touch her in so long, she could not even imagine that would be his goal. “Fine. But I only wish to stay for a while. I am fatigued from all the drama tonight.”

“No more drama,” he said as he took her by the hand and led her to the rear of the vehicle. “Now to ascertain how this bloody thing opens.”

Before Sebastian could make a move to investigate, Nasira pulled the latch and lowered the tailgate. “It is really quite simple.”

“How did you learn to do that?” he asked, sheer awe in his tone.

She shrugged. “I’ve seen Rafiq open one.”

Sebastian reached out and brushed her hair away from her shoulder. “You are truly an amazing woman.”

“Why? Because I can trip a release on a truck?”

“Because you are so observant and incredibly beautiful.”

As much as she appreciated the compliment, she also recognized he had never paid her many, except about her physical attributes. “Thank you. I suppose we should get this over with so I can get a good night’s sleep.”

Without warning, he hoisted her up on the edge of the gate, causing her dress’s hem to ride up her thighs. And while she made the appropriate adjustments, he climbed into the truck bed and had the nerve to position himself behind her, his long legs dangling on either side of hers. “Are you comfortable?” he asked as he circled his arms around her middle.

Uncomfortable would be more accurate; she didn’t—or shouldn’t—welcome the close contact. “No, I am not. I cannot have a decent conversation when I cannot see your face.”

“You only have to listen to my voice.”

Oh, that voice. That low, grainy bedroom voice that had enticed her on so many nights. And days. No matter how deep their conflicts had run, he had always been able to seduce her into submission. Granted, she had done her share of seducing as well, including the night she had conceived their child—without telling him she had stopped taking her birth control pills, which was information she had concealed until she had confirmed the pregnancy. Somehow he had forgiven the deception, or so he had said, yet she believed he had never forgotten it.

Nasira found herself leaning back against him, and turning her thoughts to the danger of succumbing to his power when he moved her hair aside and feathered kisses on her neck. “This is wrong, Sebastian,” she said with little conviction.

“Remember that night in the carriage?” he said, proving he was bent on ignoring her concerns.

“Yes, I remember.” How could she forget? On their honeymoon, he had arranged for a horse-drawn tour of Bath, which had led to taboo touching beneath the blanket, all leading up to a night she would never forget. The night she had lost her virginity and in some ways, her heart.

He slid one palm down her throat and traveled beneath the bodice where he cupped her breast through the lace bra. “I recall you were trembling, as you are now.”

She hadn’t noticed that at all. Her attention remained drawn to his fingertip circling her nipple now bound in a tight knot. “I was somewhat nervous.”

“You were hot,” he whispered. “I imagine you’re hot now.”

Before Nasira could prepare, Sebastian parted her legs with his free hand while sliding his other underneath the bra. “Pull your dress up to your waist.”

The request was both startling and highly erotic. “Why?”

“So you might see what I’m doing to you.”

As badly as she wanted his attention, she did not wish to make another grave mistake by giving in too soon. “This behavior will solve nothing, Sebastian.”

He continued to fondle her breast without missing a beat. “I disagree. It will solve our need for each other. It will serve to remind us how we’ve always needed each other.”

So caught up in his seduction, she clung to the last thread of sanity, relying on bitter memories to maintain her composure. “You haven’t been concerned about my needs for months.”

He kissed her cheek. “I know, and I’m bent on making up for my neglect. Can we for once stop thinking and allow ourselves only pleasure for a while?”

“But—”

He brought her head around and kissed her soundly. “Let me make love to you, Sira. Please.”

She should issue a protest, she should be more resistant, yet she had become too caught up in the anticipation of how she knew he could—and would—make her feel. Too sexually charged over witnessing a side of him she had never seen before this evening—the jealous side, willing to defend her honor.

After she complied, he whispered, “Take off your panties.”

This time she didn’t hesitate to follow his directive, and after she lifted her hips and slid the lace down to her thighs, she no longer questioned the wisdom in allowing this to happen. After all, he was not a stranger. He was her husband, and she had been without intimacy for much too long.

While Nasira watched, Sebastian moved to the apex of her thighs and began to stroke her. A flood of heat and dampness caused her breath to catch in her chest. He knew how much pressure to apply. How to tease her into oblivion. The moments seemed so surreal—both of them in the back of a truck out in the wide open spaces of Texas, a warm breeze blowing across her face, her husband’s hand between her legs bringing her closer and closer to the threshold of orgasm. She wanted badly to keep it at bay, to keep her eyes open, but all to no avail. When Sebastian slid a finger inside her, whispered a few words some might find crude, the climax crashed into her, bringing with it a series of strong spasms.

Nasira was barely aware that Sebastian had taken his hand away, but very aware when he moved beside her. When she heard the rasp of a zipper, she opened her eyes to see that he had shoved his slacks down his hips, revealing what the spontaneous foreplay had physically done to him.

“I need you, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Come here.”

She needed him as well. Much more than she should. “You want us to lie down in the back of this truck? I question the comfort in that.” She also questioned her own sanity.

Darmowy fragment się skończył.

399 ₽
21,71 zł
Ograniczenie wiekowe:
0+
Data wydania na Litres:
12 maja 2019
Objętość:
171 str. 2 ilustracje
ISBN:
9781474038676
Właściciel praw:
HarperCollins

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