Lucky Streak

“And what was that curse?” she asked, oblivious to his desire, enthralled instead by the story that had haunted his family for generations.

He could repeat it by heart. “Any Corwin male who falls in love will be destined to lose his love and his fortune.”

“Nasty curse,” Amber said.

“Yeah. Just because I had a horny relative, every male down the family line has suffered unimaginable pain and misfortune.” He shook his head.

“But your cousin Derek is married to a woman he loves now, right?” she asked.

Mike raised an eyebrow. “Just how long were you standing there, listening to the conversation I had with my father?”

She waved her hand, dismissing the question. “Are they happily married?”

“So far…but my father’s convinced Gabrielle miscarried because of the curse and he’s been trying to protect them from future harm with his voodoo and hocus-pocus.”

“Then those were juju dolls I saw hanging from the trees by the house.”

Mike nodded, preferring not to go there. “Gabrielle is a famous author whose research dispels paranormal belief for a living. Ever hear of Gabrielle Donovan?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yes! I’ve seen her books!”

“She’s convinced Derek that all the family misfortune has been a combination of circumstance and coincidence. Frankly, I’m inclined to believe her, too. Now, does that answer all your questions?”

“It does,” she said, sounding surprised he’d leveled with her.

“Now, about my money…?”

She made a tsking sound. “You do have a one-track mind, don’t you? I’m your wife, remember? What’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine.” She held up her hand and the big gaudy diamond flashed at him from across the room.

He hadn’t realized she’d kept the ring, let alone continued to wear it.

Seeing it dangle on her finger again brought everything crashing back. The fun, the rush of excitement and most of all the desire he’d felt the moment he’d laid eyes on her. And their wedding night, something he hadn’t been able to forget, no matter how angry he’d been.

That same desire had enveloped him from the moment he walked into his apartment and found her nearly naked on his bed, as well a yearning he’d been tamping down during the visit to his father’s, watching her accept Edward as if he and his descented skunk were normal. He’d felt it again as she’d held his hand during the hour-long ride home in silent understanding.

“My wife?” he repeated her words.

She nodded. “Legally.”

He started toward her in a deliberately predatory way. “If you’re going to insist on calling yourself my wife, I’m going to want something more from this marriage than the aggravation I’ve had so far.”

She met his gaze without backing down. “I think the time we spent in your hotel room was pretty darn good.” Her eyes widened. “I’d even call it aggravation free, if you ask me. Don’t you agree?”

The memory of consummating their marriage was potent and his body hardened at the reminder. It suddenly didn’t matter that she’d betrayed him. He still wanted her as badly as that first time.

Wanting to make sure she understood his intentions, he stood over her chair, grasped the armrests and leaned over her, his lips inches from hers. Her warm, feminine scent tempted him, aroused him, drew him in.

“We have unresolved issues,” he said, staring into her beautiful blue eyes. “The money and the marriage.”

“I know we do. But you need to know I didn’t want to leave you and I came back-”

He didn’t let her finish, cutting off her words with his lips. She was his wife and she was willing and he kissed her hard and deep, branding her as his.

Amber kissed him back, but let Mike take charge. She wasn’t going to pass up the chance to be with him again, to remind him how good they were together. To feel it for herself.

His large hands cupped her face and he tipped her head, giving his tongue better, deeper access to her mouth. He thoroughly claimed her, leaving no place untouched. All she could do was hold on to his shoulders and feel.

His hands slid from her face to her neck, his thumbs caressing her skin, tracing the line of her collarbone, his fingertips moving lower to the swell of her breasts beneath her T-shirt. He teased her with his touch, dipping lower, but not quite touching where she needed it most. The throbbing tips of her nipples pressed harder against her shirt, begging for him, while moisture trickled between her legs, building an empty, aching pressure only he could fill.

She arched her back, silently imploring him to stop teasing her with featherlight strokes of his hands on her breasts.

He raised his head and met her gaze, his eyes dark and intense. “What do you want?” he asked, his voice gruff. “You need to tell me.”

She swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest, desire swamping her, yet not fulfilling her needs. “You. I want you.”

“I want you, too,” he said, not sounding at all pleased with he admission.

“And it makes you angry that you do.”

A muscle ticked on the side of his face. “That about sums it up.”

She knew it would take time for him to believe in her again and that was okay. That he still wanted her was enough. It gave her something to work with.

“One step at a time,” she told him, referring to their relationship. “Then you’ll see how good things between us can be.”

Never breaking eye contact, she took his hand and placed it on her breast. Over her shirt and through her thin bra, his touch burned and aroused her, but she was more concerned with breaking through his self-directed anger. He wanted her and was furious with himself for it.

“One step at a time. Starting here and now,” she said, encouraging him.

He curled his hand tighter around her breast. She felt her nipple tighten, turn rigid against his palm. Unable to control her reaction, a low moan of satisfaction rumbled from deep inside her. She watched the fight he waged within himself and she saw the minute he lost the battle.

The angry tension in him eased. He kissed her again, more gently, more accepting, yet still demanding in intensity. She shifted her body and his hips settled around hers, the hard length of him fitting directly between her thighs. The thick, bulging pressure hit her at exactly the right point and she moaned aloud.

His hands cupped and molded her breasts while, attuned to her other needs, he rocked against her, each thrust of his body bringing her higher and closer to a fast-coming climax. She needed to feel him harder against her and bent her knees, seeking more intimate contact.

Without warning, the chair tipped back and Mike lost his balance, nearly toppling over her and onto the floor.

“Oh my God, that scared me half to death,” she said. “Are you okay?”

Mike drew a deep breath, still trying to calm his twisting stomach. “Too damn close to a roller coaster for my peace of mind.”

She met his gaze. And laughed.

They’d been both caught off guard and the shock of being jolted back by the recliner interrupted the moment, yet it sent her into a fit of laughter.

He began laughing, too.

He couldn’t remember the last time a makeout session had turned into something fun. Amber, her blue eyes dancing, her curls a mess around her face, gave the most normal things a unique spin.

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Too funny. I thought for sure you were doing a header over the chair.”

“With our combined weight, I’m surprised I didn’t.”

“Mike?” she asked, no longer laughing.

He stood beside her. “Yeah?”

“You left me hanging. You?”

He shook his head and grinned. “Yeah, I’m a little unsatisfied myself.” He scooped her into his arms and carried