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San Antonio's Finest Eligibles Page 3
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There was a moment of silence – just long enough for Harry to feel a mite nervous – and then her companion was laughing, the sound of which made her secretly sigh in relief. And if Harry had known Devon just a little better and longer, she’d have accomplished as well. Devon Montgomery rarely spent enough time away from work to find something to laugh about.
Devon watched Hilary’s smile widen at hearing him laugh. It was an I’m-happy-because-you’re-happy kind of smile, and the rare sight sent an unexpected bolt of desire through Devon’s body. He wanted her, he realized in surprise. She was not the most attractive woman he had ever met, but she was certainly the most interestingly earnest one – and he wanted her for that.
It was a good thing she was his future wife, he thought idly as he pulled the truck to the side, took off his seatbelt, and turned to meet Hilary’s wide-eyed look of bemusement. That way, he could do this—-
Hilary was shocked rigid when Devon suddenly reached to cup for her cheek, but before she could draw another breath he had already lowered his head and covered her mouth with his.
Oh dear!
It took another second before the exquisite heat and intimacy of his kiss to hit her, and when it did her toes curled hard – and stayed in that position as Devon’s lips moved over hers with an expertise that took her breath away.
When her lips parted, she couldn’t help but gasp as Devon’s tongue slid into her mouth, the foreign sensation causing her fingers to dig into the armrest. The kiss deepened, becoming possessive, and Harry could only respond, dizzy with all the feelings that Devon’s lips evoked.
The kiss went on for an eternity, and when Devon finally lifted his head, both of them were breathing hard.
Triumph blazed inside him as he took in her kiss-swollen lips and dazed expression. He had instinctively suspected that their chemistry would be off the charts, and it damn well was. That had been the only reason why he had not married her straight out, as was typical of Charlotte’s matches. He was not a man who took risks lightly, and he had not wanted to tie himself to a woman he could not make himself bed.
But now...
Devon could not wait until she was married to him and he had the right to claim her body as his. The way Hilary had kissed him was all the answer he needed. She was a virgin, and his touch would be the only one she would ever know.
“I made a really good decision when I asked you to be my bride, Hilary White,” Devon said thickly.
Hilary’s toes threatened to stay permanently curled at her soon-to-be husband’s words. Her entire body was shaking like a rattle, and when she saw the look in his beautiful blue eyes –
Her heart slammed against her chest, harder and faster with every beat that she was seriously worried it could jump out of her body any second.
I want you, that look said.
It seemed so impossible for this wonderful, handsome, passionate man to want someone quiet and ordinary like her that way.
And yet –
“I’m glad you’ll be mine, darling.”
Somehow, some way, as incredible as it appeared, it did seem that Harry had finally found someone to belong to.
Chapter Four
She had asked for nature, and God had more than answered her prayer, Harry thought ruefully a short time later. The road to her new home gave Harry a chance to see that Evergreen, Texas was mostly everything she had expected. Huge sun, wide blue skies, and then everything else was flat and brown. The only thing that surprised her was the abundance of trees. The stories she had heard made Harry expect Texas to be completely barren, without any sign of life outside ranches, but the verdant reality outside her window proved to be a pleasant surprise.
With San Antonio behind them, it was as if they had entered a whole different world – one that was indescribably open, with not one ugly skyscraper to mar the view. The highway also seemed to go on forever, making her ask, “How far is it until your home?”
“About ninety minutes.”
“Ah.”
“Would it be a problem, you think?”
She glanced at Devon in surprise. “Not at all.”
“I see.”
But still, there was something about the way he spoke that made her say haltingly, “If there’s something you’d like to ask of me, please do.”
Devon dealt Hilary a veiled glance of surprise. Not a lot of women were as frank as her, and this was another trait he liked about her. “An hour’s drive here isn’t the same as what you’d expect back in your city,” he said mildly. “It’s a long drive, and you’d be far away from civilization.” He shot her a considering look. “There won’t be any nearby malls, fancy restaurants, or night clubs.”
“I don’t mind.” She shot him a shy look he found privately charming, and her subsequent confession even more so. “I look forward to it, to be honest. I’ve always felt suffocated in the city. It was like...like I knew ever since the start that I wasn’t meant to live there.” She gave him an apologetic look. “Weird, right?”
“No.” He waited for her to say something else but instead he saw Hilary bite her lip, as if holding back a smile. It made him want to bite her lip, too, and he asked huskily, “What is it?”
The way she blushed enchanted him, and her words even more so when she answered in her sweet voice, “It’s just...you’re the real deal, aren’t you?”
“The real deal?”
“The the strong, silent type, like the guys in those old Western movies.”
Devon almost grinned. He supposed he was, but no one had really told him that to his face, probably because most of the men he spoke to were like him as well. He was tempted to answer her with a mere nod, just to prove that he was indeed the strong, silent type, but something about sweet innocent Hilary tempted Devon to be wicked.
“I’m not always silent.”
She looked at him doubtfully.
“I talk a lot...”
More doubt in her beautiful brown eyes.
“...when I’m in bed with a lovely woman.”
Harry gasped.
It almost made him grin, but Devon schooled his face to be deadly serious even as he continued, “I like dirty talk, too. Really dirty words.” His gaze turning hooded, he then asked her in a low voice, “Does that turn you off, Hilary?”
Hilary gulped.
Devon Montgomery, her future husband...talking dirty...to her?
She slowly shook her head.
No, it did not turn her off, and that was what worried—-
Oh! Harry started in her seat when Devon suddenly reached for her hand, and she could only watch in stunned silence as he placed her hand on the stick shift before covering it with his own.
“That’s good to hear.” His fingers caressed hers as he spoke, and Harry could only smile weakly as her body shivered at the possessive intimacy of his touch.
Oh, oh dear.
She had only prayed for her marriage to be blessed with harmony, but God was again answering her prayers with something better. It was fast becoming obvious that her marriage would not be lacking in excitement, too.
Throughout the ride, their hands remained clasped, a fact that left her utterly breathless, as evinced by her tone every time she found herself blurting out one question after another about their surroundings.
As Devon patiently answered his future’s wife every question, a part of him was surprised at how endearing he found Hilary’s obvious enthusiasm.
Or rather, endearing and unbelievably arousing, which then made him wonder lazily what else he could do to make her more breathless. Her innocence worked like an aphrodisiac on his system, filling his mind with erotic images of Hilary’s awakening. What would it take to make her gasp and her eyes hazy with desire?
If he pulled over now and took her in his arms, if he cupped her breasts, if he sucked on her nipples - what would she look like if he did all of that? What would she say? How would she react?
Such speculations had Devon’s erection rock-hard und
er his pants, and it took an enormous amount of his self-control not to act on any of those urges. To distract himself, and seeing his intended’s genuine interest in the topic, Devin began telling her about life in his ranch. He was careful not to go into too much detail, wanting to see her surprise once she found out about his life. By the way Hilary talked, she seemingly expected him to own a small ranch, live in a simple house, and ask her to toil the field for hours each day. What was more unexpected was that she appeared eager to do it.
Harry listened eagerly to Devon’s stories about his ranch, doing her best to imagine what her vastly mundane life could not teach her. He told her of mornings where the cocks crowed and where the ranch came alive in the wee hours, but all Harry knew of mornings were the blaring of her alarm clock, hurried showers, and the morning rush as everyone went to work in dreary-looking buildings.
Devon told her there was always work to be done in the ranch for everyone, and she had a hard time comprehending this, too. Back at Sweet Life, it often felt like she was the only one working at the office. The girls who stayed behind and didn’t have clients to entertain usually only spent their work hours chatting and filing their nails.
It was only when Devin made a turn to the right into what seemed like a private road, this one lined with rows and rows of beautiful primroses, did Hilary notice the huge gates, and the words Primrose Ranch spelled out in an ornately decorated arch.
When she looked at him in awe, Devin asked with a smile, “Are you pleased?”
“Beyond words,” she gushed. “How lucky you are to work here!”
Devon blinked. Did she still not realize –
Hilary was looking at him hopefully now. “Do you think your boss will consider hiring me as well?”
Devon coughed to cover his amusement. “I believe so.”
Harry was startled when the men who rushed to open the gates tipped their hats as Devon drove past them. “You never told me exactly what your job is,” she murmured absently. “Are you their supervisor or, umm, head rancher, or something?”
He coughed again, the only way he could prevent himself from smiling. “Or something.”
She sighed. “I can see you’re trying not to smile so I guess I said something silly, haven’t I?”
“You’re adorable,” he told her simply, and when she blushed, he told her gravely that her blushes were even more adorable.
Oh dear, Harry thought weakly. If Devon would always be this charming, she might end up blushing for the rest of her life. The prospect alarmed and excited her at the same time, and so confused was she over this that she decided to set the thought aside for the meantime and turn her attention back to her surroundings.
A huge stately home now loomed from a distance. It looked a lot like the house used in the old Dallas TV show, only much fancier.
“That’s the main house,” Devon drawled when he saw her gaping at the sight of his estate.
“Where the master lives,” she interpreted out loud.
“That would be correct.” He slid her a curious glance. “Would you like us to live there, too?”
“Truthfully?”
“Truthfully,” he averred solemnly.
“I suppose it would be heavenly to live in such a place, but what I’ve always dreamt of is a place of my own.” Her voice turned wistful. “I never had that...” Harry’s voice trailed off when Devon’s truck slowed to a stop right in front of the home’s imposing front doors.
As Devon came around the truck to open her door and assist her out, Harry was startled to see a few dozens of people coming up the driveway as well as stepping out of the main house to form a line. “Is the master about to arrive?” she whispered nervously. “Shall we line up with them?”
“No, darling.”
“Oh, right. Shall I make myself scarce while you join the others—-”
“Hilary?”
Even as she wondered absently at the amusement in his tone, she answered him obediently enough, asking, “Yes, Devon?”
“They are waiting for us.”
“But why would—-” She stopped speaking. There was only one reason the employees would line up like this, and it was to welcome their master, who happened to be...
“I think I’m going to faint,” she whispered. Harry no longer understood what was happening. All she knew was that Devon was definitely not the simple ordinary rancher she thought he was.
Devon’s face softened. “Don’t be afraid, Hilary.” The truth was, he had not planned this type of homecoming for her at all, but after just a few minutes in Hilary’s company, he had found himself texting his right-hand man. He wanted everyone present to greet the ranch’s future mistress. He wanted them to see that he was proud of her –
And vice versa, Devon thought as he looked down at his future wife.
“This is where I live...and where you will live with me.” A soft gasp escaped her at his words, and he smiled. Curling a protective arm around her waist, he then turned her around gently so they could face his people together as he declared with quiet authority, “The future mistress of Primrose Ranch.”
Everything was a bit of a daze after that, with Harry doing her best to memorize names and faces as Devon introduced his people to her one by one. And then he was taking her inside the “house”, which was really more like a mansion in the middle of the desert. The receiving area had high ceilings and huge windows that showed the rest of the ranch. The furniture was a charming blend of modern and rustic, leather and wood furniture next to state-of-the-art technology like a huge razor thin TV mounted on a brick wall and a kitchen so wonderfully equipped it looked like it was designed for an award-winning chef.
“What do you think of your new home?”
“It’s...nice?” The moment she blurted out her answer, Harry wanted to groan out loud. She had been – and was still – so overwhelmed she couldn’t think of anything else to say. This house looked like it was designed for a Town & Country feature, and all she could say was that it was nice?
But thankfully – and strangely enough – Devon appeared incredibly satisfied with her answer. Before she could ask why it was so, Devon’s head had lowered and Harry immediately forgot everything the moment his lips touched hers.
His kiss was deep and drugging, and the way his tongue moved inside her mouth so overwhelmingly possessive that she could only cling to him, her arms going around his neck as he kissed her more passionately, to the point that he had her almost bent backwards at the waist.
Nice. His sweet Harry thought his mansion – which had cost millions of dollars to build – was nice. She really didn’t have a single gold-digging bone in her body, and this made him want her even more, and only Devon’s hard-earned control allowed him to reluctantly pull away before he ended up taking Harry’s virginity in the middle of his damn living room.
When Devon finally broke the kiss, Harry could only gaze at him dazedly, unable to comprehend the magnitude in which he had turned her life upside down with his announcement.
All she had wanted was to belong to someone, to live a simple, happy life and have a loving family to care for. But instead, she found herself engaged to a passionate and powerful man and about to become the future mistress of a place that appeared more like a small kingdom than a mere ranch.
There was the sound of the doors behind them opening, interrupting her train of thought. Beside her, Harry heard Devon curse under his breath.
“Am I late? Is that your beautiful fiancée, Devon?”
Devon reluctantly turned to face his mother with Hilary still clasped at his side. “Mother, it’s my pleasure to introduce you to my soon-to-be bride, Hilary White. Hilary, my mother, Mary Beth.”
Harry suddenly found herself lost in a fragrant hug and masses of blond hair. When the other woman pulled away, Harry got her first good look at Devon’s mother, and her jaw dropped. “You look too young to be his mother,” she blurted out without thinking.
Devon smirked at the way his mother b
eamed. For all of Mary Beth’s frivolous chatter and actions, she, too, was a wise judge of character. Devon knew that one look at the wide-eyed surprise on his intended’s face was all that was needed for Mary Beth to know Hilary meant every word.
Devon’s mother curled her arm around Hilary’s. “I can just tell, sweetheart,” she cooed. “You and I will get along just fine.”
Chapter Five
A few hours later, Harry was freshly showered and well-rested after a good nap. Devon’s mother had only come for a quick visit, and shortly after Mary Beth left, Devon had taken her straight to her bedroom. The room was three times the size of her old flat, the walls painted a pretty shade of lavender while the curtains and carpet were in royal blue. There was also a huge four-poster bed, an elegant writing table made of marble and glass, and a door that led to her private bath with its own walk-in closet. It was a room fit for a queen, and she had a hard time believing that the room was really hers.
Someone knocked on the door just as Harry finished clipping her earrings on. They were costume pearls, but they were better than nothing. She was nervous when she opened the door, but there was no one outside. There was another knock, and that was when she realized the sound was coming from another door—-
She whirled around, in time to see a door next to the bed open and Devon stepping inside. Following this was the realization that their rooms were connected, and the intimacy of it made her swallow.
Devon had changed into something formal, a black polo shirt and charcoal-gray trousers. In a shirt and jeans, he had already seemed to Harry the most elegant individual but now he was devastatingly sophisticated. It made her self-conscious about her own dress, which, together with the red one she wore earlier, were the only two she had ever owned in her entire life. Harry had bought it at a thrift shop for five dollars. At that time, the ivory-colored dress with half of the back made entirely of lace seemed beautiful, sexy, and elegant in her eyes. Now, surrounded by so much wealth and Devon’s powerful presence, she felt terribly inadequate in it.