Bedded Then Wed by Heidi Betts Page B

worse than Emma, that was for sure. She was kind and considerate, a terrific cook and sexy as all get out.
    He didn’t imagine everyone would think so. She didn’t possess the fantasy hourglass figure, and what she did have, she tended to hide beneath blue jeans and button-down blouses.
    But she wore those jeans like no one he’d ever see before. She didn’t pour herself into them the way Suzanne had, but they weren’t loose and baggy, either. They fit just right—snug where a man could appreciate it most and roomy enough in other places to plague his imagination.
    And since he’d seen her naked, felt her naked beneath him on many recent occasions, he happened to know that her less than fashionably ideal form was actually quite perfect.
    Her breasts were pert and pretty and just large enough to fit his hands. Her waist was slim, tapering down to narrow hips that made his mouth water. And her legs were as long and muscular as a colt’s.
    He’d come up with that particular analogy the last time she’d sat astride him and ridden him into a foaming lather.
    The memory sent blood shooting to all the wrong places—at least while he was sitting across the table from her father—and he immediately tried to redirect his wayward thoughts. Wyatt’s invitation to marry her and take over his land pretty much did the trick.
    The only problem was, this time, the idea didn’t seem quite so repugnant.
    As he sipped his coffee and listened with half an ear to what Emma and Wyatt were saying, he pictured himself standing in front of a preacher again, speaking those holy vows that had backfired on him once. A skitter of icy fear snaked down his spine.
    But then he imagined being married to Emma. She wouldn’t be like Suzanne, that was for sure. She was the homey type and would take great pride in taking care of him and their household. He would have piping-hot meals to look forward to on a daily basis, and even hotter nights spent in her arms. She would laugh and maybe even make him smile in return.
    That was certainly something he could get used to. And he knew that he could be married to Emma, be a good husband, without getting too emotionally attached to her.
    Men were blessed that way. He’d married once for love and been kicked in the crotch for his trouble. No way was he interested in a repeat performance. But he could live with her, sleep with her and make her happy without risking his heart.
    His only concern was that Emma might not. Women were different, and she was perhaps more sensitive than most. What if she developed feelings for him that he couldn’t reciprocate? What if she read too much into their arrangement and ended up getting hurt?
    But she seemed to understand that he was once bitten, twice shy. In all the time they’d been dating and sleeping together, she’d never once asked more of him than he was willing to give. She didn’t bring up Suzanne or ask him to pour out his soul so she could analyze his feelings and try to fix them. She simply accepted their relationship—and him—for what it was.
    If she could handle a marriage to him in the same way, then they might just have a shot at building some sort of life together and fulfilling her father’s wishes, as well.
    And it was no small consideration that if he took Wyatt up on his offer, his own parents would stop pressuring him to get over his ex’s betrayal, get on with his life, and find a better woman to settle down with.
    Emma’s and Wyatt’s voices buzzed in his ears, his thoughts seeming to race faster than his brain could process them. What he was contemplating made his temperature rise at the same time a cold sweat began to trickle between his shoulder blades.
    Suddenly, he realized his companions had stopped talking. The room was eerily silent, and, when he raised his head, he found two nearly identical sets of eyes gazing back at him.
    “Sorry,” he said, feeling like an idiot. “Guess my mind wandered.”
    “That’s all right,”