Sandra Hyatt - His Ring, Her Baby / His Bride for the Taking - His Ring, Her Baby / His Bride for the Taking

He watched as her dress inched up her thighs. Damn, but she had gorgeous legs. Long and slim and firm enough for a man to grip as she rode him home, smooth enough for a man to slide up and into her.

“You owe me a dance, Vanessa.”

Her eyelashes flickered, then her lips twisted. “I’m sure Phyllis would love to come back from her break and find us dancing in her kitchen,” she scoffed, picking up more plates.

Unable to stand another look at those legs, he strode over and took the plates out of her hands, then put them on the shelf himself.

He turned and took slow steps toward her. “We could go outside under the stars, if you’d prefer.”

Anywhere.

He didn’t care.

As long as she was in his arms.

“No, I can’t.” She went to spin away.

He put his hand on her arm, stopping her. “One dance can’t hurt us.”

She tensed as if she knew one dance was all it would take. “Kirk, listen. This is all a waste of time.”

“What is?” he murmured, watching the way she suddenly moistened her lips.

“You … trying to seduce me. It won’t work. I can’t do this.”

He pulled her closer. “Vanessa, you’re only fooling yourself if you think—”

“Kirk, I’m a widow.”

He blinked in shock.

“My husband died six months ago.”

He stared at her, trying to absorb the information.

“I’ve been trying to tell you. I—”

The screen door opened and Phyllis stepped inside the kitchen. “I don’t believe it! Kirk Deverill in my kitchen,” she scolded lightly, then stopped, her gaze going to Vanessa. “Oh, was I interrupting something?”

There was a pause but Kirk couldn’t have spoken to save his life. A widow? She was too young. She was only in her mid-twenties.

Vanessa stepped back. “Not at all, Phyllis,” she assured the motel cook, then headed for a side door. “I’ll leave you two to catch up.” She left the room.

Kirk let her go. He had to. He couldn’t make his feet move right then.

“So how’s your mother, Kirk? I want to hear all about her.”

Hell, what could he say to Vanessa anyway?

“And Martha?” Phyllis added. “I believe her sister isn’t well.”

Kirk slowly turned back to the older woman, forcibly pulling himself together, but his mind was working overtime. He still couldn’t believe Vanessa was a widow.

Christ!

Vanessa was shaking by the time she left the kitchen and slipped into Linda’s bathroom. She’d told him. He knew now. He wouldn’t pursue her further. And that was just as well. Tonight had the signs of being a prelude to a relationship she wasn’t ready for.

A man-woman relationship.

All she had to do was get through the rest of the evening.

Drawing a calming breath, she left the safety of the bathroom and took a few minutes to chat to the teenager babysitting the boys here in Linda’s private quarters. Then she took a quick peek in on a sleeping Josh before heading back to the party.

On entering the restaurant, the first thing she saw was Kirk dancing with a young, raven-haired beauty whose father owned a sheep station not far from town. She gazed up at Kirk as if any minute she’d swoon at his feet.

A touch of cynicism seeped inside Vanessa. He didn’t seem to be worried about his attraction for her right now, with Tina’s red dress clinging to his dark trousers. Any closer and they’d be joined at the hip.

“Like to dance, Vanessa?” a male voice said beside her, and she looked up to see Seth Collins, one of the other woman’s brothers, standing there, his brown eyes reflecting admiring lights.

She flashed him a smile, glad to have someone take her mind off Kirk. “Lead the way.” On the dance floor she went into his arms. His height forced her to look up at him and he grinned down at her with a face as handsome as his sister’s was beautiful.

Vanessa smiled right back at him, aware that he found her desirable. Unfortunately he did nothing for her. Not like.

Her gaze shot past him to Kirk, who was scowling at her over Tina’s shoulder. There was a determined look in his eyes and suddenly she wasn’t sure being emotionally tied up in her late husband would make any difference to him. Kirk Deverill went after whatever or whoever he wanted.

She dragged her eyes away. “Had enough to eat, Seth?”

He nodded. “Best spread I’ve had in a long time.”

She darted a quick look back at Kirk, who was still looking at her.

And he was getting closer.

Her heart thudded in her chest. She should have known he was the type of man who let nothing get in his way.

Swallowing, she quickly looked at Seth again. “Had enough to drink?”

“More than enough, thanks.”

Kirk was closing in on them, a hard set to his jaw. Nervously she scraped an imaginary strand of hair off her cheek. “Good. We aim to please.”

Seth gave a short laugh that grated on her taut nerves. “You do a good job of looking after your guests.”

Closer still.

“Er … that’s because everyone’s been so nice to me.”

“I’m sure you’re easy to be ni—”

“Seth,” Kirk interrupted, coming right up beside them, “you’d better take your sister outside. She says she’s going to be sick.”

Tina hiccupped.

“Great,” Seth said ruefully but he immediately released Vanessa and put his arms around Tina. “Come on, sis. Let’s get you some fresh air.” He shrugged at Vanessa regretfully. “Sorry about this.”

“That’s okay.” Vanessa began edging as far away from Kirk as possible. “I have to go check on—”

Kirk pulled her into his arms, wrapping her in his warmth. “We need to talk,” he rasped, and began leading her around the floor as Seth escorted his sister to the door.

Vanessa pulled herself together. “Do you often make women sick when they dance with you?” she said sweetly, not wanting him to know he had her running scared.

His eyes dismissed her comment. “Tell me about your husband,” he all but growled.

Like a flash she grasped that this wasn’t about him pursuing her. All he wanted were answers, nothing more. She could understand that. Most people were curious when they discovered someone so young had been widowed.

Tension eased out of her shoulders. “Mike was a policeman. He was killed in a bank robbery six months ago.” She could count it down to the weeks, days, hours. She would remember the exact date and time for the rest of her life.

A muscle jerked in his jaw. “Hell, I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.” She’d heard those words so many times from people, and she appreciated them. Yet hearing them come from this man made her feel strange.

“How long were you married?”

Vanessa swallowed. “Two years.”

His hand tightened on her hip. “And were you happy?”

“Very,” was all she could manage, otherwise she’d be thinking about Mike and how much she missed him. And it didn’t seem right to be thinking about him while she was dancing in the arms of another man.

His mouth compressed. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

She didn’t like his tone. “I don’t believe I owe you any details of my private life,” she snapped.

Another couple danced too close and he had to move her out of the way. By the time she fell back into step, she hoped he’d let the subject of her marriage go.

He didn’t.

His eyes snagged hers, almost accusingly. “Why aren’t you wearing any rings?”

She’d known he’d noticed. “I’ve taken them off temporarily. They were too tight in the heat.”

Those blue eyes gave her the laser treatment. “You knew I thought you were available.”