His Runaway Bride Read online

  Well, if it happened, and she wasn't at all sure it was going to, she'd do her best to concentrate on him. Perhaps then he'd be willing to overlook her shortcomings in that area, although what he'd said to her when he kissed her the first time kept running through her mind, something to the effect that satisfying his mate ought to be of "supreme importance" to any man.

  Maybe he just talked a good game, she thought. Maybe he was really one of those guys who didn't give a shit whether the woman in his bed enjoyed their lovemaking or not. Yes, and she could spit cotton candy out of her ass, too.

  It was Sunday night, and Brownie was expected back sometime tomorrow morning, so it was their last night alone. Except for the things she'd banished to the back of her mind, she'd spent the entire time being excruciatingly happy, and unless she missed her guess, Pace felt much the same way.

  They'd spent their days as the family they were hoping to build. After breakfast Sunday morning, they all headed out to the barn, where she—not Braeden—was going to get a riding lesson. He'd been teaching her about how to care for a horse and the equipment that went with it—until she began to avoid him—but now he insisted that she pick it back up, saying, in passing, as he stole a kiss from her upturned lips, "You're living on a ranch. You need to learn how to ride a horse."

  She didn't object to it as she might have when she'd first gotten here. Like him, she'd gotten used to being around the beasts and had even developed a bit of an affinity for Star, who seemed to like her, too, although Pace insisted that she start out on Lady first.

  "Let's see you groom and saddle her," he said, leaning against one of the stalls as the horse in it—Troy, she believed—tried desperately to eat it. Pace just laughed. "Get away from me, you big galoot."

  She did her best with the grooming, even the hooves, although it was a challenge to hold the hoof of such an enormous beast between her legs while she hunched over and cleaned it out, and when she was done, she looked at him for approval.

  He ran his hands over the horse, pointed out a couple of spots she'd missed, but overall, he was very free with his praise. "Very good job! You get a kiss." His lips met hers and lingered there for a long moment, until he felt someone standing on his boots, trying to worm his way between them.

  "Mommy's gonna go widing!" Brae informed them with a frown.

  "All right, partner. You know what to do next." He motioned to Jayne.

  She did, and she was fine with the bridle, although she had to reach up on her tiptoes to put it over Lady's ears. She had to "ahem" loudly to get Pace to lift the saddle onto the horse, but she did all of the straps.

  "Another excellent job!" her teacher exclaimed after checking them carefully, not wanting the saddle to be too loose, such that she'd fall off the horse.

  He had already shown her how to mount the horse and had led her around as he had her son, but she'd never ridden by herself. This was going to be the first time.

  Once she was up, he made her hold the horse steady where she was. A small crowd of the cowboys who were around had gathered to watch her, so Pace handed Brae to his foreman to watch, so he could keep his eye on Jayne.

  If it was possible, she was even more beautiful on a horse. "Walk on," he said, and she nudged the horse in the sides gently, guiding her slowly around the ring while Pace scrutinized her. When she was more comfortable and more experienced, she would become a really good rider.

  For now, he gave her some gentle pointers, "Hands down." She obeyed him immediately, which he had to say he liked. "Good girl. Why don't you switch directions?"

  After a few more minutes, he reminded her, "Heels down." She again did exactly as he told her, earning her another, "Good girl."

  "Back straight. Shoulders back and down. Lookin' good, Jayne."

  And she really was. He wouldn't have said it if she wasn't, regardless of their relationship.

  "Now, before you do this, I want you to relax and grip Lady's sides with your legs. Try to move with the horse, although it's not easy to do. Press your heels in a little harder, and try a trot."

  It was a bumpy ride for about half of the way around the corral, but then she found her seat again. He wasn't going to push her any further than that, though.

  "Once more around, then bring her to a halt in front of me, please."

  Again, she obeyed him flawlessly.

  "All right, back her up a bit."

  "I don't think I know how to do that."

  He told her how, and she duplicated it perfectly.

  Finally, Pace caught the horse's bridle for her. "Think you can get down by yourself, or do you need my help?"

  "I think I can." She did, but it was kind of slow motion, and she was obviously hurting a bit by the time both feet were on the ground.

  There was a small burst of applause, and he was delighted when she actually bowed to her admirers.

  Feeling a slight bit jealous, for no reason that he could fathom, Pace caught her before she took Lady back into the stable and kissed her thoroughly, to wolf whistles from the mostly male crowd.

  "You did a wonderful job. Want me to put her away?"

  "No, I rode her; I'll take care of her."

  He liked the way she thought, but he kept an eye on her while she did it, too, lifting the saddle himself and putting it on the sawhorse for her. The more she moved, the more uncomfortable he could see that she was getting.

  "You'll need a long, hot shower tonight to help those muscles."

  "Yeah. Obviously, I've used ones I don't usually, and they're not too happy about it."

  "No problem. The more you ride, the less you'll hurt."

  After that, he was even more solicitous of her than he usually was, handing her Tylenol the first thing when she got into the house then taking complete care of Braeden for the rest of the day.

  Not that she minded all of the extra attention, but Jayne had to laugh when he brought her lunch in the living room. "I'm not an invalid, you know. I just have some sore muscles."

  "I know, but I like pampering you."

  "Far be it from me to dissuade you, Mr. Marshall."

  He winked at her then went to get lunch for himself and Braeden, explaining to the little boy that they were picnicking in the living room today.

  She barely had to lift a finger. Every time he got up, he asked her if there was anything he could get for her, and he kept track of when she was due for more medicine, too.

  After a wonderful dinner, which he cooked—steaks on the grill, home fries with garlic and onions, corn, and an apple cobbler that was slap your mama good, especially with the vanilla ice cream he put on top—he had her kiss Braeden good night in the living room then went and tucked him in.

  He returned in about half the time it usually took her to put him down, and she just shook her head as he joined her on the couch, taking up the entire corner seat, and encouraging her to lean against him. "I would love to know what your secret is with him."

  "What do you mean?"

  "What do you say, or what do you do? He never goes to bed quickly for anyone but you."

  "Well, I think that's because I'm a little firmer with him than you are. You're a pushover for his 'just one more story'. I'm not." He adjusted the blanket he'd put over her. "How are you feeling?"

  "I'm likely to survive."

  "Yes, but I hate it when you hurt. I hope it doesn't turn you off riding."

  "Nope. I was scared of horses at first, but now I like them."

  He gave her a raffish look. "I think I know the other side of that feeling."

  They lay there comfortably for a while, kissing and cuddling, and despite the aches and pains, Jayne was in Heaven.

  Then, Pace suddenly turned off the television. "Why don't you go take a long, hot shower in my room?"

  "Why your room?"

  "Well, I wouldn't want you to wake Braeden, and it's a better shower than the one attached to your room. There are lots of individual jets, and you can set the spray to pulse away on your sore points."


  "Oh. Okay."

  But he stopped her. "Only do this if you're comfortable with it, though. If you'd rather shower in your room, you're welcome to do that."

  "No, I'm fine."

  She did go to her room and grab her shampoo and body wash, as well as something to get into when she was done showering. Now was the time when she wished she was one of those women with the piles of sexy lingerie, but the truth was she slept in a very old, short white cotton shift style gown that was so aged, it was threadbare in places. But it was from college and was a keepsake from better times that, so far, she'd been unwilling to give up. And she really didn't have anything else that came close, anyway.

  She couldn't even sneak in and borrow something from Brownie, because she knew Brownie slept in the nude.

  But he'd described that shower so well that she wasn't going to let her lack of an appropriate garment dissuade her from using it.

  And the man obviously knew what he was talking about. That shower was amazing! And he had a heat lamp outside the enormous shower stall, so she didn't get cold while she was drying off and dressing, and the towel rack was heated as well.

  She was impressed. She'd come from an apartment that had a tub and a shower in one, and it leaked, so there was really no water pressure to speak of. The tile floor was old and coming up, and the window in the bathroom was cracked, so it was always the coldest room in the house.

  When she stepped out of the bathroom, he surprised her by being right there.

  Pace took her in his arms. "I want to do something for you, but I want you to know that it's perfectly fine if you say no."

  "Whaaaat?" she asked, her voice revealing her overblown skepticism.

  He had to laugh at that. "It's nothing bad. At one point, Brownie volunteered you to massage me, but you didn't, understandably. But I would like to do that for you now. You're hurting, and I can loosen those muscles up with my magic fingers." He wiggled all ten of them in front of her while contorting his face like an idiot, and she dissolved into giggles.

  Skeptical had been replaced by wary, which was exactly what he didn't want. So, he took her hand and sat down on the edge of his bed, perching her on his leg. "I want you. I do, Jayne. Don't ever doubt that. But I was also brought up to be a gentleman, and I don't want to rush you. My motives in wanting to massage you are almost eighty percent altruistic."

  That had her laughing, despite the fact that she was more than a little nervous.

  "Okay, seventy-five. But no less than that, I promise!" He held his hand up like he was taking an oath.

  She had to giggle at that, too.

  He became more serious and said, "I just want to say that I would never do anything you don't want. Ever. And I do think a massage would help you get to sleep tonight. I'll stop when you say stop, I'll keep my hands on the top of your pajamas at all times, no means no, your mileage may vary, void where prohibited…"

  Again, she was nervous but smiling. And not making a decision. She was very cute when she bit her lip like that, though.

  So, Pace took matters into his own hands, helping arrange her on his bed, on her tummy, and repeating, "You can tell me to stop, and I'll stop, Jayne," in various incarnations.

  "I believe you," she finally said, head resting on her arms. "You don't have to repackage it. If I didn't, I wouldn't be here."

  "Well, that's good to know. I'm just going to get a couple of accoutrements. Is there anything I can get you?"

  "I don't think so. Would you check on Brae, though?"

  "Of course, honey." He leaned down to kiss the top of her head before leaving the bedroom.

  When he returned, he handed her a rocks glass with just a splash of amber liquid in it. "Whiskey. It, too, will help your muscles." He waited until she'd swallowed it, gasping as it made its way down her esophagus, then took the glass away from her. "Good girl."

  She could get used to hearing that. He said it quite often, and she felt as if her heart glowed each time she heard it. He was very free with endearments, too, which made her feel almost as wonderful as his "good girls" did.

  Jake had never shown her any real affection, and she could tell that Pace was trying not to overwhelm her by touching her a lot, but she loved every second of it. He pulled out her chair, he put his hand on her lower back, he kissed her—usually just a quick peck on the cheek or mouth—at any given opportunity, even if he was just leaving the room for a moment.

  "Brae's sound asleep, by the way."

  "Thank you for looking in on him."

  He put some things on the nightstand then asked, "Are you comfy? As comfy as can be, anyway?"

  "Yes, thank you."

  "Okay, well, I'm going to start at your feet and work my way up. If I do anything you don't like, or touch you where or how you don't want to be, or you're ticklish there, or whatever, just let me know. The goal is just to get you to relax. Oh!" Pace looked at the stuff he'd put on the nightstand. "Take two of these. It's just coated aspirin. That should help, too, since it's a low-grade anti-inflammatory."

  When she was done, he headed for the end of the bed then chuckled. "If I stretch, my toes can touch the end of the bed without too much trouble. Yours aren't anywhere near it."

  So, he sat on his heels on the bed, taking first one foot, then the other, onto his lap and rubbing. She started at bit at his first touch, but he wasn't tickling, he was gently digging the pads of his fingers in, and it felt amazing.

  When he was done with her feet, he moved on to her calves, strong fingers gently kneading soft muscles. She was sighing in delight, and he figured he was doing the right thing, but it was driving him crazy to be so close to her like this—to have her spread out on his bed, all soft and warm.

  But Pace was determined not to push her. They were very new, and she had a lot of things to work through. But the task he'd put before himself had ended up being harder than he thought. His control was being severely tested, but he knew that she would be more than worth the wait.

  At one point, though, he pressed a bit too hard, and she cried out in pain, kicking her leg out of his hands and lifting herself up off the mattress.

  He stopped immediately. "Oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you!"

  Jayne eased herself back down. The pain had been particularly sharp, since she had essentially surrendered herself entirely over to the pleasure he was giving her. "I know you didn't. I'm fine. That was just a bit too—just too."

  "I know. I'm terribly sorry. Do you want me to stop?" Pace held his breath, waiting for her answer.

  "No, if you don't mind. It was feeling so good!"

  "I'm glad. I'll be more careful."

  The rest of the massage was incredibly perfect, so much so that he had relaxed her all the way into sleep. He didn't try to wake her at all, though. Pace really liked the idea of her sleeping in his bed, and she was already in her nightgown—what there was of it. He spread a spare blanket over her then kissed her cheek before gathering all of the things he'd brought in and exiting the room as quietly as possible.

  He could have slept on the pullout couch in his study. He could have taken any one of the many other guest bedrooms available, but he didn't. Instead, he chose his big, comfy chair, with a blanket thrown over him.

  But unlike her, he found sleep elusive, lying awake for hours, wanting her so badly that he finally decided to take care of the matter himself.

  But then he saw her walking out toward the kitchen, although he didn't think that she had seen him. He didn't know what she was doing there, but he got up and came around the end of the snack bar, asking in a deep tone, "Couldn't sleep anymore?"

  Jayne had taken a glass from one of the cabinets and was going to get some cold water from the fridge, but the unexpected sound of his voice caused her to yelp in surprise and turn, dropping the glass onto the tile floor, where it shattered in zillions of pieces. Still sleepy and not thinking clearly, she became instantly terrified, crouching down and cringing away from him, as if s
he feared being beaten for having dropped and broken the glass.

  Worried, Pace turned on the light in the kitchen, adjusting it so that it was low, for the moment, but bright enough that he could see that the very fine trembling was back, the one that meant that she was really scared.

  Jayne was trying to get ahold of herself, trying to slow her heartbeat and calm her rattled nerves, trying to remind herself that the man in the kitchen with her was Pace, not Jake, and that she had no reason to be afraid of him whatsoever. But it wasn't working very well.

  For his part, Pace was very gentle but insistent that she stay still. "Don't move, honey, and don't worry that I'm mad at you, I'm not. Accidents happen. I'm going to pick you up, and you don't have to do anything but let me, okay?"

  "O-okay," she whispered, and it was so soft and tentative, he almost didn't catch it.

  He crept closer, but not too, reaching out to pluck her from where she stood and carry her to a bar stool. "Stay there, Jayne. Don't move. If you move, I will have to spank you. Do you understand?"

  "Yes."

  It was probably not the best thing to say to her when she was already frightened of him again, but it needed to be said, for reasons of her own safety. "I'm going to get a broom and dust pan and clean this up."

  "B-but I m-made the-the m-mess."

  Without thinking, Pace reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand, and she let him, tilting her eyes to his and explaining calmly, "You're in bare feet, angel. I won't have you getting cut."

  He swept up as many fragments as he could find on the first round then looked for the ones he missed and swept up those, too. Finally, he took out the vacuum cleaner and ran it around the entire area, and he could hear that he had caught some with it, too.

  When he was done, he brought her a glass of cold water.

  "Thank you." She was looking down, and he wished she wasn't. "You didn't have to get out th-the vacuum, though."

  "Oh, yes, I did," he answered right back. "You and Brownie and Brae are all barefoot or in stocking feet around the house all day. What kind of a man would I be if I didn't do a thorough job protecting my family—and by doing something so easy? If any of you got cut because of my negligence in cleaning up, I'd feel horrible."