HER IDEAL MAN Read online

  Anna glanced at the wispy silk gown. "Not that comfortable."

  "It was worth a try."

  He actually had a dimple. He'd never smiled wide enough for her to see it before, and a wave of happiness went through her. By some miracle, Tyler was actually happy in this moment. It made her feel humbled and grateful. "I'll be right back."

  The bellman had taken their bags into the bedroom, and Anna opened hers to find something more comfortable to put on. The velvet was amazingly heavy, and she felt weary from dragging it around all day. The tunic hooked in the front, and she shucked it with a sigh.

  "Hey!" Tyler called. "There's a stereo in this cabinet! Do you want to listen to some music?"

  "Sure. Whatever you want."

  It came on, something classical Anna didn't recognize. Hanging her tunic up carefully, she bent over the suitcase, looking for the flannel gown and robe she'd brought with her. They weren't there.

  Twice, she carefully took everything out of the suitcase, and frowned. She distinctly remembered putting it in the bag, along with her toothbrush, the very last.

  Louise.

  Anna sighed. The woman just could not help herself. It was pointless to be annoyed. She took out the jeans and her favorite red sweater, and changed into those instead. The button wouldn't close on the jeans, so she left it undone and pulled the sweater down over it. Soon, she supposed, she would have to break down and buy some new things.

  Putting her hands over her tummy, she turned sideways to look in the long mirror over the dresser. "How you doing, kid? Feeling okay in there?" She could see no visible difference in her tummy yet, but standing there, she wondered how it would be in a few months, when she got rounder with baby. It gave her a curious sense of excitement to think of it, to think of her child growing in there.

  Humming happily, she padded barefoot back into the other room.

  * * *

  Tyler spent the whole evening moderately to extremely aroused, depending on the moment. They settled on the floor to play poker, Anna drinking bottled water while Tyler sipped champagne. In the background played quiet classical music, and snow fell with cocooning quiet beyond the windows, beautiful against the night. They filled a plate with olives and a variety of cheeses and cherry tomatoes, and nibbled as they played for pennies, which they'd called down to the front desk to get. The maid had giggled when she brought the neat, heavy rolls in exchange for a five-dollar bill, and when they closed the door behind her, both Tyler and Anna had laughed. "We can never tell a soul how we passed this evening," Anna said.

  "Not a soul."

  Now, several hours later, the piles of pennies were almost evenly divided, as they had been all night. She played well, and although he'd expected everything to show on her mobile face, she was remarkably able to school her features in poker. When he commented, she said simply that her brothers had taught her well.

  Tyler had sipped his way through several glasses of champagne, and felt agreeably warm and a little expansive from it. He didn't feel like himself tonight—his usual sense of awkwardness was missing. It was easy to talk about little things, and to laugh, and to smile at Anna's jokes. Maybe it was the unaccustomed comfort of the hotel room, or the champagne, or the relief of getting through the day without major incident.

  But he suspected it was Anna making him feel this way. It was just easy somehow to be with her.

  At least in some ways.

  It was not easy to sit across from her and respect her wish to avoid sex. Her red sweater, the same one she'd worn the day she told him she was pregnant, was damned near as sexy as the silk nightgown would have been. The simple lines clung to her curves with a soft texture that begged petting, and the round neckline exposed far more of her breasts than he thought she realized. Her body had changed with pregnancy, and one thing that was different was those white swells of breast over the sweater. Voluptuous curves. Curves he wanted to trace with his tongue.

  He wondered if her breasts had grown more sensitive, too. It happened. She'd been very sensitive before, and vocal, as he recalled. The memory, coupled with fresh temptation, sent blood rushing in alert readiness to his loins.

  "Dealer takes two," he said, tossing down a two and a six.

  They showed their cards. Tyler won with three kings, but Anna was close with three tens. He scraped the pennies toward his pile, then stood up to stretch and pour a little more champagne. "Let's change the stakes to make it more interesting," he said, sitting down again.

  "Yeah, we're pretty evenly matched, I'm afraid. What do you suggest?"

  He shrugged. "I don't know. Truth or dare?"

  "Okay."

  She won the first round. "Truth or dare?"

  "Truth."

  She scowled. "How boring."

  Tyler chuckled.

  "Let's see." She narrowed her eyes and bit on her lip. "Tell me something you did as a kid that your mother never found out about, and she would have killed you if she knew."

  "Well, living with Jake and Lance, you might imagine there were a lot of things like that." He thought for a moment. "One of my favorites was when Lance and I jumped a freight train and rode into Denver, then back."

  Her mouth fell open. "She never found out? Weren't you gone a long time?"

  "Not really. Most of a day, probably, but that wasn't all that unusual. We were country kids."

  Tyler lost the second time, too. He took truth again, but when she asked for his middle name, he shook his head. "Make it a dare."

  With a gleam in her eye, Anna said, "Sing me a song."

  He laughed. "I'll get you for this," he said, but dutifully sang "Mary Had a Little Lamb."

  She lost the next round. Tyler immediately thought of asking for some article of clothing, but she asked for truth. "Now who's wimping out?"

  Serenely, she smiled.

  How could she be so unrattled? He knew she wanted him, though maybe not the same way he wanted her, which was quickly becoming a mindless, heated, animal thing unlike anything he'd ever experienced, even as a randy teenager waiting for his wedding night with Kara. "Tell me," he said, "about the first time a boy touched your breasts."

  Color flooded her cheeks. "Tyler, that's not fair!"

  He grinned. "You picked truth."

  She took a breath. "Okay, it was Johnny Dinero and we were making out after a school dance and he slipped his hand under my blouse."

  "Did you slap him?" He could just see that—moral indignation bristling around her like a halo.

  "No," she said, and smiled. The expression was fertile and sensual and devastatingly female. Awareness made of her eyes liquid pools. "I liked it."

  Tyler inclined his head. "Touché," he said, and let go of a sigh. "I'm way outclassed."

  "You asked for it."

  "Is it true?"

  She only smiled and held out her hands for the cards. She lost again, a pair of aces to his full house. "The heavens are obviously on my side," he said. "Truth or dare?"

  "Truth. I don't trust you with a dare."

  Tyler considered carefully. What question would a woman absolutely refuse to answer? "How much do you weigh?"

  With a sigh, she rolled her eyes. "Dare."

  Tyler laughed. It surprised even him, that delighted sound rolling out of his chest, deep and … jeez, happy. "Give me some article of clothing that you're wearing."

  "Oh, all right. I'll tell you how much I weigh."

  "Too late. You know the rules. You have to take the dare."

  She pursed her lips, considering, then reached behind her, did something, and then reached under her sleeves to pull her bra straps, first one side, then the other, tugging the bra out of the right sleeve. She put it in his hand.

  It was not a sexy item of clothing, just a simple white bit of cloth, but it still held the warmth of her body, and Tyler felt a sizzle move from his hand to his groin with electric pain. He looked from the fabric to her, frankly admiring the looseness of unbound breasts below the soft red fabric. "Much be
tter," he said.

  Anna thrust the deck at him. "I'm not going to lose anymore, so you may as well prepare yourself."

  He grinned. "Yeah? Famous last words." He tossed the bra aside and shuffled the cards thoroughly. "I'm telling you, Lady Luck is with me."

  "We'll see."

  With a flourish, he dealt the cards, set the deck aside and picked up his hand. It took everything he had not to chuckle, and in fact he forced himself to frown.

  With a royal flush.

  He glanced at Anna, but could read nothing in her face until she raised her eyes. There he saw the shine of triumph. "I'll hold," she said, her voice low and sexy. "But let's raise the stakes."

  "I'm game. How?"

  "It's a dare. And no matter how ridiculous or embarrassing, the other person has to do it."

  "You sound pretty sure of yourself, missy. You planning to humiliate me in public?"

  "You deserve it."

  "But what if I win?"

  She lifted a shoulder. "I'll take my chances."

  Tyler smiled then. "It's a bet, then."

  "Are you going to draw?"

  "Nope." He spread his cards.

  Anna stared blankly at the hand for a moment, and he recognized the stunned expression. She'd lost. "You are unbelievably lucky," she whispered, and turned over her cards. A straight flush.

  "I win," he said, and could not keep the huskiness from his voice.

  "Yes."

  Anticipation, thick and rich, spilled through him, and he allowed himself the luxury of drawing out the moment, sorting through his choices, allowing, her the same giddy anticipation.

  And he knew she anticipated. Her breath came more quickly, and her eyes had grown heavy-lidded, and the aura in the room was suddenly tense, hushed, waiting. Tyler let his eyes wander over her mouth and thought of asking for another kiss, then moved his gaze lower, to her neck, then lower still, to the aroused tips of her breasts below the sweater.

  And he knew what he would ask. "Come here, Anna," he said. "Let me claim my prize."

  Without speaking, she rose up on her knees and moved closer to him. "Even on a double dare, you don't have carte blanche," she said.

  "Two things only."

  He reached for her, sliding his fingers under the neckline of her sweater at either side. "You don't have to do anything at all. Just sit right there." He moved closer and, slowly, slowly, enjoying every inch of the journey, he slid the soft red fabric down her shoulders, first exposing creamy white shoulders, delicate as the wings of a dove, then the swell of her upper breasts. "This is the first thing," he said.

  At last her breasts, white and round and uptilted, were free. Anna made a soft sound, but she did not move, and he worried that he'd upset her. Tyler glanced at her face.

  Her eyes were closed, her chin was faintly lifted, and her nostrils were flared. The lush red lips were faintly parted to let her hurried breath through. She was as aroused as he, but struggling not to show it.

  The dark rose nipples were aroused, and Tyler sighed as he bent close. "This is the second part," he said, "and then I'll let you go. Just let me—" he moved his mouth very close to the tip of her left breast and flicked his tongue over it "—taste you." Trembling with desire, he opened his mouth and drew her inside his lips.

  And he was lost, lost in the soft cry that escaped her, lost in the taste of nubby flesh, lost in the sensual pleasure of giving and receiving pleasure like this. Anna shivered against him, her hands lighting on his shoulders, then in his hair.

  Delirious pleasure. Every inch of her. Every sound, every movement. Every—

  She gripped his hair tightly. "Tyler, please stop now." He raised his head, hearing the urgent sound in her voice. There was anguish on her face, and she whispered, "Please."

  Tyler released her abruptly, shattered by his own driving sensuality. "I'm sorry," he said gruffly. "I'm going outside for a minute, okay?"

  Careful not to look at her, he yanked open the glass door and stepped out into the cold, cold night.

  * * *

  Chapter 14

  « ^ »

  Anna was shaking all over—bone-deep trembling she could not seem to still, no matter what she did. She was grateful that Tyler had given her a moment to collect herself.

  Until that last moment, the teasing between them had seemed harmless. Anna had been drawn into his passion because she was so hungry for him, but it had seemed like a game until the last.

  Until that big head lowered close to her breasts, until his beautiful mouth closed upon her, hot and wet, and skillful. She had fallen adrift on the feel of him, on the erotic pleasure he gave so easily, on the wonders of him wanting her at all, much less with the passion she sensed in him tonight.

  That passion was part of the hidden Tyler, a passion vast and deep and too long denied, a passion that held a fierceness that frightened her. She remembered the way they had bruised each other with the force of their passion that night at his cabin, and knew she could not hold him off forever. Whatever else there was between them, she suspected the physical link was far more intense than was usual.

  But it was that very intensity that terrified her. That passion would engulf her, devour her, snare her heart and soul and mind, until the real Anna was submerged somewhere in a desperate, doomed love for a man who would never love her in return.

  Shakily she fixed her clothes and retreated into the luxuriously appointed bathroom. On impulse, she stripped and turned on the shower, very cold, to break this spell. She yelped when she stepped under the spray, but it provided the shock she needed.

  Sooner or later, she would have to make love with him. Probably better sooner than later, if she was to blunt the ferocity of his barely contained passion. But even standing under a cold shower, she couldn't imagine how she would do it without losing herself in the bargain.

  A bit of remembered sexual lore popped into her head: If a couple put a penny in a jar every time they made love the first year, then took a penny out every time after the first year, they would never use up the pennies in the jar.

  Maybe it was just normal chemistry, and would burn itself out. Maybe she didn't have to be so afraid. Maybe she was fighting the wrong fight.

  In a sudden decision, she turned off the shower and wrapped herself in one of the enormous bath sheets hanging on the racks. Rubbing her skin hard to make it glow, she hurried into the bedroom and found the silk gown Louise had given her. With anticipation knotting in her belly, she donned the wispy fabric and went to find Tyler.

  He still stood on the balcony in the falling snow, staring out into the darkness. Anna stepped over the cards on the floor, and went to the door. "Tyler," she said quietly. "I'm sorry."

  Without turning, he said, "I'll live."

  She winced. She had really hurt his feelings. "Tyler, why don't you come inside?"

  "In a minute."

  She gathered her courage, and said, "I have a surprise for you."

  He turned, simply swiveled in place, putting his hands behind him on the rail. In the full-sleeved shirt and black jeans, his hair tossed by the wind, snow falling around him, he looked like the ghost of a pirate. An angry pirate.

  His pale gaze flickered downward, caressing her form below thin silk, and she saw his jaw harden. "I'm not really in the mood for a virgin sacrifice," he said.

  Stung, Anna took a step backward, then stood her ground. "I think virgin is the wrong choice of words here."

  "Sacrifice isn't."

  She stared at him, hurt welling up in her chest. Without a word, she turned and walked away, holding up her head so that he would never know how deeply he'd wounded her. Damn him.

  Resolutely she climbed into the enormous bed and curled into a fetal position of comfort. Until she lay down, she had no idea how exhausted she was, but the instant she was prone, her body gave a collective gasp of relief, and the long night before, and the long day, and the demands of the pregnancy, caught up with her. In moments, she was sound asleep.

>   * * *

  Tyler stayed on the balcony until he was chilled from his bones outward, until he was absolutely certain he could trust himself to respect the distance Anna had asked for. Closing the door behind him, he listened for her in the suite. For all he knew, she might have left.

  A move that might be best for both of them. Quietly, he moved through the sitting room and peeked into the bedroom. Until he saw her small, still form, the black hair flung over the pillows, and felt relief course through him, he didn't know how much it mattered that she'd stayed.

  On the wide expanse of the enormous bed, she barely took up the space of a postage stamp. Half of him wanted to crawl in next to her, but the other half—the sensible half—told him he would only make things worse if he did.

  His head ached vaguely from champagne, and there was a hollow thud of shame in the region of his heart. Turning away from the temptation of Anna, he moved back into the sitting room and, from long habit, bent down to pick up the cards. His winning straight flush was scattered from the force of his need when she had moved toward him at last, and he halted, assailed by a vision of her kneeling before him in her red sweater. With it came heat and need, and a new stab of guilt.

  Idly, he picked up the cards and dealt them into a game of solitaire. All his life, he'd held himself to be made of better cloth than his father and brothers, taking quiet pride in his devotion to one woman, when they all seemed to want dozens. After Kara's death, he'd clung to chastity as if it were a life raft, arrogantly secure in his moral superiority.

  But both of his brothers had proven their steadfastness when they found the women meant for them. Between them, Jake and Lance had probably had more women than Tyler had ever seen, but all conquests were forgotten when they found The One.

  What an arrogant fool he'd been all these years. Because he found Kara when they were young, Tyler had never been tested. He'd found harmony and satisfaction in his wife, and he'd never needed to look beyond his own front door. Afterward, his grief had been so encompassing for so long that even managing to take care of Curtis had taken every scrap of physical and mental and spiritual energy he owned.