Daddy Wore Spurs (Mills & Boon Cherish) (Men of the West, Book 32) (12 page)

“If you feel awkward about calling your father, then talk to one of your brothers,” she suggested.

Yes, he could speak with Rafe. Of all his brothers he was closest to him. But even Rafe would want to know his plans, and Finn wasn’t ready to give him, or anyone, answers. Not until he knew exactly how Mariah felt about him.

“I will, Mariah. Just give me time.”

Her expression full of concern, she stepped closer and rested her palms against his chest. “Tell me what’s bothering you, Finn. And don’t give me the old ‘everything is fine’ routine. I can see you’re troubled.”

He let out a heavy breath. “I’m not troubled. I’m thinking.” Forcing a smile on his face, he looped his arms around her in a loose embrace. “I haven’t even congratulated you for finishing the school year. Are you excited about summer vacation?”

She smiled gently up at him and Finn desperately wanted to crush his mouth down on hers and carry her to the bedroom. To feel the need in her lips and the urgency of her hands moving over him would send all the anguish and worry from his mind. But Harry was still awake. And once Finn started making love to her, he didn’t want anything to interrupt them.

“I always enjoy my time off in the summer. But come next fall I’ll be anxious to get back in the classroom. Teaching is a part of me, I guess.”

And her teaching job was here. She couldn’t have made that any plainer, Finn thought.

“Hmm. Well, I never was a teacher’s pet. But maybe there’s hope for me yet.” He kissed her gently in the middle of her forehead, then dropped his hold on her. “If you don’t mind, Mariah, I think I’ll go out to the barn for a while and check on the mares.”

“I don’t mind. Take your time.”

He planted another kiss on the top of her head, then left the house with Mariah staring worriedly after him.

* * *

It was nearly dark by the time she heard Finn return to the house. As his boots echoed on the tiled floor of the breezeway, she carefully tucked a blanket around Harry’s shoulders. The baby was growing every day. Before long he would be sitting alone and crawling. And then he would be walking and racing all over the place. But she wouldn’t be chasing after him. Not unless some sort of miracle happened. And so far in her life, she hadn’t experienced any of those.

She turned away from the crib and was stepping through the open doorway when she crashed head-on into Finn. His big hands grabbed her shoulders and steadied her.

“Mariah! I was just coming to see if you were here in the nursery. Did I hurt you?”

“No,” she quickly assured him. “I heard you crossing the breezeway, but I thought you’d gone to your bedroom. Sorry I wasn’t watching where I was walking.”

His hands began to knead her shoulders. “Don’t be sorry. I like being whammed in the belly by a beautiful brunette.”

Beautiful. Not until Finn had come into her life had she ever felt truly beautiful. Oh, she’d been told in so many words by other men that she was attractive, but none of the compliments had come across as sincere. But something about the way Finn looked at her, touched her, made her feel special and womanly.

Laughing softly, she splayed her hands against his midsection. “I won’t wham you again, but maybe I can think of doing something else you might like.”

He pulled her close and whispered against her lips, “Is Harry asleep?”

“Yes.” She slipped her arms around his waist. “How was everything at the barn? Did you have a good visit with the mares?”

“I’ll tell you about it later,” he said, then with a heady groan he closed the tiny space between their lips.

Minutes later, in the dusky dark interior of the bedroom, Mariah pushed everything from her mind except Finn. With his mouth fastened over hers and the thrusts of his hips driving into hers, thinking became impossible. Tiny bolts of lightning were exploding, creating a glorious network against the stormy swell of her emotions. Inside and out, from her head to her feet, every feminine cell in her body was glowing and aching for the man in her arms.

Pleasure was pouring through her and she wanted to give it all back to him. She wanted to thrill him more and more. She wanted to love him until their hearts had merged so tightly together that years of time could never untangle them.

Suddenly his mouth lifted from hers and his hoarse voice whispered against her cheek. “Oh, Mariah, Mariah—my sweet darling. I can’t get enough of you.”

“Love me, Finn,” she breathlessly pleaded. “Keep on loving me.”

With a needy groan, he rolled them over until his back was against the mattress and Mariah was riding the urgent thrusts of his hips. Gripping his shoulders, she hung on, matching his rhythm even though her lungs were burning, her heart pounding out of control. Like tangled threads, her body grew tighter and tighter until she was wrapped in captive knots.

She was crying his name, searching for relief, when he suddenly crushed her to him and buried his face in the side of her neck. In the next instant his warmth began to spill into her and suddenly she felt everything at once as sensations rocketed through her, blinding her with an ecstasy so great it momentarily stopped her breathing. And like a cornflower beneath a hot, hot sun, she bowed, then wilted completely.

It was long moments later before Mariah realized her cheek was resting against the sheet rather than the cool, grassy ground and the heat of the sun was actually the warmth of Finn’s chest pressed against her back.

Turning into all that delicious warmth, she wrapped her arm around his waist and rested her head in the hollow of his shoulder.

With a contented groan, he lifted a hand to her hair and slowly stroked the thick strands lying against her back.

“Do you know how it makes me feel to have you here in my arms like this?” he asked.

His voice was still husky with desire, and the sound touched her as much as the calloused tips of his fingers. Both sent shivers of pleasure through her that knew no bounds.

“No,” she whispered. “How does it make you feel?”

“Perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

“Nothing is perfect,” she said drowsily.

He chuckled softly. “You’re wrong. I’m holding perfection in my arms.”

Tilting her head back, she studied his face in the growing darkness. “You must have a bottle of wine or something hidden out at the horse barn. You’re thinking is a little cockeyed.”

Groaning, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “My thinking has never been better.”

“Really? This evening during dinner you seemed pretty mixed up about something.”

His expression softened as his hand gently cupped the side of her face. “Hmm, I think I’ve been mixed up ever since I came to Stallion Canyon and laid eyes on you for the first time.”

Her heart slowed as she anxiously tried to read the emotions on his face. There was a serious intensity in his eyes that she hadn’t seen before. And she was suddenly afraid to guess what it might mean.

“That’s understandable,” she said. “Learning about Harry—that he was most likely your son, then coming up here to meet us—that had to be traumatic for you.”

“I’m not talking about Harry now. I’m talking about you. And what you’ve done to me.”

Lifting her hand, she pushed her fingers through the crisp burnished waves above his ear. “And what is that?” she asked softly.

Bending his head, he rubbed his cheek against her. “You’ve made me fall in love with you, my darling.”

Mariah desperately needed to breathe, but her lungs seemed to have suddenly quit working.

“In love?” she whispered. “Is that what you just said?”

Drawing her closer, his hand made wide, sweeping circles across back. “That’s exactly what I said. Why do you sound so surprised? Haven’t I pretty much been saying that to you every night this past week or so?”

She’d wanted to believe the eagerness in his kisses and the urgency of his fiery touches were born from love. She’d even let herself imagine him saying those words to her. Yet she wasn’t that same naive girl who’d once been duped by promises and pretty words. Once Aimee and Kris had betrayed her, she’d closed her heart to believing and hoping she would ever be truly loved.

Her throat suddenly tight, she said, “What you’ve been saying to me these past several nights is that you enjoy having sex with me. That’s something very different than love.”

He pulled back far enough to study her face. “I understand the difference, Mariah. And I can assure you that what I feel for you isn’t just—raw desire. Yes, I want you. Yes, it’s thrilling to have sex with you. But what I’m feeling goes way beyond that.”

Not daring to believe the conviction in his voice, she sat up in the bed and drew the sheet over her breasts. “I don’t know what to say, Finn. I wasn’t expecting anything like this from you.”

He scooted to a sitting position and once he was facing her, reached for her hand. As he wrapped his fingers around hers, she tried to still her racing mind, but it was impossible. What was the matter with her? Why couldn’t she listen to her heart, wrap her arms around him and tell him that she loved him with every fiber of her being?

“Mariah, I’ve thought about this over and over. What I feel for you isn’t going to end. And I—well, I don’t want us to ever be apart. I realize that the first day I was here I asked you to go back to Nevada with me. But I don’t want that now.”

Trembling now, she stared at him. “You don’t? But why? What—”

Before she could finish, he reached for her other hand and drew her closer. “I want us to be married, Mariah. I want the three of us to make our home here.”

Her mouth fell open as she forced herself to breathe. Him and her and Harry together as a family. It would be a dream come true. If she could only believe that weeks and months from now, he’d still be wanting her. That she’d be enough woman to keep him happy.

“I think—you’re getting way ahead of yourself. You haven’t thought this through, Finn. Not completely.”

“What have I not thought through? Marrying you?” he asked wryly. “Or making my home here?”

“Both. We haven’t known each other that long and—”

“Long enough,” he interrupted. “I’ve had plenty of time to realize how much I love you. And this evening, after I read the DNA letter, it dawned on me that everything was coming together. That I couldn’t wait to tell you how I feel.”

Her heart was aching to believe every word he was saying. For days now she’d been wondering how she could possibly go on living once he and Harry moved to Nevada. But she’d been too cautious for too long to simply let herself fall into his arms and promise to marry him. She’d done that once before and ended up getting her heart stomped. But this time there was more than the risk of breaking her heart. Harry’s welfare had to be considered, too.

“Finn, you’re suffering a memory lapse. This ranch is up for sale. You just saw Mr. Larson looking things over this afternoon. He could decide at any moment to put money down and—”

“I want you to contact Ella Clark in the morning and tell her that you’ve changed your mind and you’re not going to sell Stallion Canyon.”

The shock of his words actually caused her to rear back. “Not sell? Finn, the ranch is going under!”

A patient smile curved the corners of his mouth. “Only because it needs someone with money and the experience to run it. I certainly fall into both those categories.”

“But why? You already have a prestigious job—a fancy home back in Nevada. Your family and friends are there and—”

“But I want you to be my family, Mariah. You and Harry. The three of us here on Stallion Canyon. You’ve already said that Harry should eventually inherit this ranch. I can make that possible. Even though willing it to Harry might prove to be a problem later on,” he added with a sly grin.

“What do you mean?”

“Our other children might feel like they deserve a part of the ranch, too.”

Other children? Oh God, he was going too fast for her. She couldn’t think beyond this moment. She hadn’t yet been able to completely grasp the notion that he could possibly love her and want to marry her.

“So what about your family? Your work on the Silver Horn? You can just turn your back on all that and stay here? That would be a huge change for you, Finn.”

His hands closed firmly over her shoulders. “For a long time I’ve been thinking I could never be truly happy unless I branched out on my own. This argument I’ve had with my father and grandfather about the mustangs has been going on for a long while. Now I actually own some of them. And this is the perfect place to raise them, to do the kind of work I’ve always dreamed about doing. Can’t you see, Mariah? Everything is just perfect. All you have to do is tell me that you love me. That you want to marry me.”

Perfect. Yes, she thought sickly. It was all too perfect. He couldn’t take his mustangs home to the Silver Horn, so he’d decided that keeping them here and using this ranch for his personal plans would be far more convenient.

“I’m sorry, Finn. I can’t.”

Tears were already gathering at the back of her eyes as she quickly scooted away from him and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

She was pulling on her robe when she heard Finn leave the bed, then the faint rustle of clothing. The next instant, he was standing in front of her, wearing nothing but jeans and a deep frown on his face. And as Mariah’s gaze wandered over his perfectly carved torso and the thick hank of hair falling over his blue eye, she wondered if she’d lost her mind.

To have this man as her husband, under any circumstances, would be enough to make most any woman happy. But for as long as she could remember, she’d settled for less. Aimee had been the one who’d been loved and adored by every male who’d gotten within speaking distance of the two sisters. While Mariah had been grateful for any crumbs of affection that were left over. But she was finished with being grateful. Of selling herself short.

“Can you give me one good reason?” he asked gruffly.

Lifting her chin, her gaze defiantly met his. “I want a man to marry me because he loves me. Not because it’s convenient. Or gives him everything he wants in one neat little package. No thanks, Finn.”

“Then you’re turning me down flat?”