The Baby Deal Read online

  Now he was back, holding her close to his side, and once again her brain and libido were bickering over how much she should read into his actions; it took enormous concentration to try and stay focused on what her brother was saying.

  ‘So what sort of family discount do I get on all my mechanical work?’ he was asking Reb.

  ‘All your mechanical work?’ Reb raised an eyebrow. ‘I thought you were only after a brake job.’

  Josh grinned. ‘Nah, my efforts as matchmaker are worth much more than that.’

  ‘How,’ Reb asked, ‘do you figure that?’

  ‘Well, gee, Reb, if I hadn’t managed to convince Mum that trying to talk Amanda-Jayne out of marrying you was a lost cause she’d have probably turned up today and dragged her out of the church.’

  Reb laughed.

  Amanda-Jayne didn’t. ‘Y-y-you talked Patricia out of—’

  ‘Yep!’ Josh proudly overrode her stammering. ‘Told her that if she wanted to save herself a whole heap of anguish she should make herself scarce until she got used to the idea of Reb as a son-in-law, because I’d spoken to you and you were dead set on getting married.

  ‘Hey, don’t look so stunned, sis,’ he said. ‘I know you’ve had a rough few years, what with all your health problems, then Dad dying and your jerk of an ex…’ He shrugged self-consciously. ‘I know that’s all behind you now but I just decided it was about time someone in the family was in your corner.’

  Panic gripped Reb as A.J. suddenly went limp against him and only the instinctive tightening of his arm prevented her from fainting onto the ground.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘OH, MY God!’

  Savvy’s horrified scream bounced off every wall and almost sent Amanda-Jayne through the ceiling.

  ‘Reb!’ the teenager urged at the top of her voice. ‘Reb, hurry! I think she’s trying to kill herself!’

  It hadn’t occurred to Amanda-Jayne before that the girl might have a drug problem; it did now. Either that or she was certifiable and Amanda-Jayne was determined not to look away from her. She told herself to stay calm, that Reb would know how to handle this. Reb would be able to— Oh, my!

  Amanda-Jayne’s thoughts skidded to a halt as his sudden appearance sent her mind cart-wheeling out of control, clogged her lungs and placed calm way outside her immediate reach! It was one thing to steel herself to hug the edge of the mattress with her back turned to him and her eyes squeezed tightly shut when he climbed into bed each night, but there wasn’t a woman alive who could have blinked, much less ignored the sight Reb Browne presented now. He was quite simply walking sexuality.

  Except he wasn’t walking. He was standing…barefoot, bare-chested and securing a towel around his hips.

  Savvy’s blood-curdling scream had obviously interrupted his shower. Or perhaps, given the traces of shaving foam hugging his rugged masculine face, he’d been shaving. Either way he was the most provocative sight Amanda-Jayne had ever seen before breakfast, but as those soul-stirring black-brown eyes fixed on her, flashing seven types of fire, the hunger he stirred in her had nothing to do with omelettes.

  Dry-mouthed, she could only shake her head when he demanded, ‘What is going on here?’

  ‘Isn’t it obvious?’ his cousin responded. ‘She’s got a carving knife. And you might as well know right now, if she’s going to off herself in the kitchen, I’m not cleaning up the blood.’

  ‘What?’ Amanda-Jayne exclaimed, the absurdity of the girl’s statement reefing her from her salacious stupor. ‘Oh, for—’ She threw the innocent but incriminating knife into the sink. ‘I’m preparing breakfast.’

  The teenager reeled back against the wall and, arms splayed, sent a desperate look to Reb. ‘It’s worse than I thought. She’s planning to kill us.’

  ‘Then she’ll have to form a line behind me to get to you!’ Reb snapped at her. ‘I don’t appreciate your warped sense of humour this early in the morning.’

  ‘I don’t reckon anything she cooks will be too appealing to you either. It’s not like she’s spent any time in the kitchen since she’s been here,’ Savvy sneered. ‘Do you honestly think a week of marriage automatically gives her cooking skills?’

  ‘Savannah…’ Reb’s tone was all the more menacing for its low pitch. ‘That’s enough. Now, I suggest that if you haven’t fed Lethal yet you go and do it, otherwise you can go to your room until it’s time for breakfast.’

  ‘Yes, sir, no, sir, three bags full, sir!’

  ‘Don’t push me, Savvy,’ he warned.

  An insolent smirk edged its way across the teenager’s pretty but bizarrely made up face. Despite the fact Amanda-Jayne was convinced she applied her eyeliner with a paint roller, she couldn’t fail but be impressed at the way she stubbornly stood her ground under Reb’s direct glare. She doubted few men would have been game enough to challenge such visual hostility and Lord knew most females wouldn’t have been immune to such a concentrated exposure of raw sex appeal. Her pulse rate still hadn’t stabilised.

  ‘I’m not kidding, Savannah,’ Reb said dangerously softly. ‘Believe me, I’m not in the mood to wear your cheek on top of…everything else.’

  ‘Everything else being Miss-I’m-too-good-to-breathe!’ his cousin flashed, then, as if only now recognising Reb’s ever tightening jaw, quickly added, ‘Oh, all right! All right! I’ll go feed Leth.’ With a final narrow-eyed glance at Amanda-Jayne she crossed to the door of the stairwell and reefed it open.

  If the number of times her feet stamped following her departure was any indication, Amanda-Jayne figured she was halfway down the steps before she ‘bravely’ shouted, ‘Say, Reb! Don’t expect me to eat anything she tries to cook—you married her; let your stomach suffer the consequences!’

  Reb muttered a curse, then heaved a sigh that did wonderful things to his chest and played havoc on Amanda-Jayne’s nervous system. He caused her more internal damage by moving to gently grasp her shoulders as his brown-black eyes slowly studied her face.

  ‘You okay?’ he asked.

  Barely; but you move an inch closer and it’s short odds I’ll melt at your feet.

  No sooner had her mind registered the thought than he did move closer and the realisation that she must have spoken aloud and that he was picking up the challenge brought a pained groan from her throat. His gaze darted to her mouth, causing a million butterflies to begin fluttering in her stomach; he was going to kiss her. Again… For eight days and nights she’d replayed their wedding kiss over and over. Now she was going to have a chance to relive it. Only this time they wouldn’t be in a church and there’d be no disapproving minister nor rowdy spectators to keep her emotions in check. That thought alone caused her breath to catch and her body to sway. She closed her eyes as the heat of his hands tightening on her forearms began to seep through her, creating a blend of fearful excitement and dizzying expectation until she was literally shaking with it…

  Alarmed by her long, distracted silence and the tension her body was transferring to his hands, Reb gently shook her.

  ‘A.J.?’ he said urgently. ‘A.J., answer me… Are you all right?’

  Those seductive whisky eyes flew open then blinked twice before her face flamed and her palms pushed viciously at his chest. The contact paralysed him momentarily, before his most basic instincts prompted him to grasp her wrists to prevent her withdrawal.

  ‘Let me go! For heaven’s sake, I’m not suicidal!’

  He automatically tightened his hold as he searched her face for a clue to her sudden hostility.

  ‘What?’ She glared at him. ‘You honestly believe I was going to stab myself to death?’

  ‘Don’t be stupid. What’s wrong?’

  ‘Your cousin’s sick sense of humour scared ten years off my life, that’s what!’ she snapped. ‘One minute I’m alone with my thoughts of Spanish omelettes; the next she creeps into the room and starts carrying on like some sort of drug-crazed banshee!

  ‘Earlier she barged into the bathroom while I
was brushing my teeth and jumped into the shower ahead of me!’ she went on hotly. ‘She acts like she owns this place.’

  ‘She does. Well, fifty per cent of it anyway,’ Reb said, before checking his tongue. Not wanting to get into a discussion which might lead to questions about his financial status, he seized on her other comment. ‘Regardless of how difficult Savvy can be at times, I can assure you she isn’t stupid enough to mess with drugs. Believe me, with my background I’d recognise a problem like that in a second.’

  ‘Really? Well, have you noticed that your…difficult cousin hates my guts? That she goes out of her way to either insult or ignore me?’

  ‘I’ve noticed. But she’s only fifteen and I can’t say I’ve seen you making too much effort to befriend her either.’

  Perfectly arched eyebrows shot up indignantly. ‘Excuse me? I’ve not said one angry word to Savvy since I moved in.’

  ‘Nor one friendly one either, I’ll bet.’

  ‘That’s because she starts snarling and throwing me dirty looks the moment she sees me.’

  ‘That’s not how it looks from where I’ve been standing, A.J.’

  ‘Then either you’re standing in the wrong spot or your eyes need testing!’ she retorted. ‘Ever since the wedding I’ve gone out of my way to avoid confrontations with Savannah, and—’

  ‘And before that you went out of your way to avoid everyone, including me,’ he cut in sagely. ‘Everyone’s been willing to make allowances for you because you’ve had an unfamiliar lifestyle thrust on you and you’re pregnant, but it’s time you started meeting them halfway.’

  Amanda-Jayne could only stare at him. No one had made any allowances for her. He was being totally unfair. Some of her dismay must have shown on her face for his expression suddenly became rueful and he gave an exasperated sigh.

  ‘Okay, that didn’t come out completely right. What I’m trying to say is when Savannah starts needling you, instead of responding with that condescending, snooty down-your-nose stare of yours and expecting me to intervene on your behalf, you should stand up to her. Give her back some of her own. You’ll earn her respect a lot quicker that way.’

  Amanda-Jayne mentally counted to ten. But only to ensure her anger wouldn’t transpose anything of what she intended saying to the semi-nude, condescending man standing in front of her.

  ‘So,’ she said with deceptive calm. ‘What you’re saying is that the next time Savvy does something like this and starts bellowing like a wounded bull—for no reason—instead of instinctively standing rigid with astonishment, I should rush her, flatten her against the wall and tell her that if she doesn’t shut up I’ll strangle her?’

  An amused smile broke over the poor, unsuspecting fool’s face. ‘Maybe nothing that confrontational, but a firmly delivered “Pull your head in” will usually snap her back into line.’

  ‘And does it work as effectively with you?’ she asked casually.

  He frowned. ‘With me?’

  His innocent tone snapped her thinly reigned temper. ‘Yes, with you! You arrogant, patronising…brute!’ she roared, shoving him hard enough to make him stagger and allowing her to advance from the sink. ‘Don’t you dare criticise and lecture to me about not making an effort to fit in around here. I’m trying, damn it! For the last week I’ve gone out of my way to be friendly to Gunna and Debbie and all either of them do is grunt at me.

  ‘Now, since Gunna smiles when he grunts,’ she went on, ‘I assume that he’s being friendly, but Debbie’s just plain rude. I mean, even that ugly mutt Lethal has started wagging his tail while he’s growling at me, but not Debbie. Oh, no! She makes snide comments or mutters under her breath at every opportunity.

  ‘Well, get this—’ she jabbed a finger at him ‘—I’m sick of it! I’m sick of being on the receiving end of some sort of inverted snobbery and treated with ridicule! I’m sick of being treated like this whole situation is my fault. You were the one who insisted on this marriage, Reb, and I’m sick to death of having your family and your friends punishing me for agreeing to it. Furthermore—’

  ‘Okay, okay,’ he cut in, holding his hands palms upward. ‘Don’t get your knickers in a knot. Just settle down and—’

  ‘I’m not wearing knickers! And what’s more I won’t settle down! I’ll admit I mightn’t have been easy to live with before we got married, but I’ve bent over backwards since then to try to achieve harmony in this place.

  ‘I haven’t complained about how your cousin waits until I’m on my way to the bathroom before rushing in head of me, slamming the door in my face and then staying in there longer than it takes to perform a heart-lung transplant. I’ve bitten my tongue at her sarcasm and meekly continued passing on all her stupid phone messages even though her friends take great pleasure in facetiously calling me “Ma’am” and “Mrs Browne”.

  ‘And now this morning,’ she said, ‘when I especially get up early with the sole intention of cooking everyone a delicious breakfast, she starts World War Three and it’s my fault!’

  Amanda-Jayne knew she was shouting, but she was surprised to find tears sneaking down her cheeks. Refusing to have her anger mistaken for hysteria, she roughly wiped them away.

  ‘A.J…. Hon—’

  ‘I’m not finished!’ She evaded the placating hand Reb extended. ‘As far as I’m concerned, Reb Browne,’ she continued, ‘we might not be sleeping together in the accepted sense of the word, but we are married and I’m carrying your child; I think that entitles me to some modicum of emotional spousal support and loyalty. So I’d appreciate it if you weren’t so quick to jump down my throat and blame me for every drama that crops up in future.’

  She took a long, steadying breath and waited expectantly for him to say something, but no immediate comment was forthcoming. His handsome face remained unreadable as his dark eyes slowly swept over her. As always he managed to make her feel painfully self-aware and not a little foolish, but she fought down the instinct to bolt from the room; if she was prepared to make sacrifices to get through the next three years of this marriage everybody else had better expect to do likewise! She might have a bit of paper stating she was a Browne by marriage, but unfortunately she was a Vaughan by birth and upbringing, and if ever there were two roles she was inherently ill-equipped to assume they were those of whipping boy and silent suffering martyr!

  As she stood there, gloriously challenging, with her hands clamped on her hips, her eyes bright with expectation and her chin tilted in unmistakable defiance, Reb found himself amused, awed and getting more aroused with every passing second. A fact his towel wasn’t going to be able to keep a secret for too much longer. It had been difficult enough to keep his attraction to her in check from the first night they’d shared a bed. In the days since her passionate response to his kiss on their wedding day, his libido had come close to turning him into a nervous wreck. While he was certain a session of hot and heavy sex would go a long way to restoring his equilibrium, after weighing up the pros and cons he’d decided that it was best to wait until she was better adjusted to their current situation before commencing a concentrated seduction campaign.

  But that was before she’d stood in front of him, lit by the morning sun, with her silky copper hair falling over her shoulders, a thigh-high T-shirt exposing the best pair of legs he’d ever seen, and boldly announced she was naked beneath it. For all his good intentions, considering his own minimalist attire, this moment couldn’t be interpreted as anything but opportunity knocking and he didn’t have the strength to walk away from it. If he was wrong, then Amanda-Jayne would undoubtedly use all her weight to slam the hypothetical door on his fingers, but the memory of how that weight had felt lying along his sweat-slicked body four months ago made the risk seem worthwhile.

  She was the most beautiful, sexy woman he’d ever known…and he ached to know her again. Every glorious, soft millimetre of her—her firm high breasts, the peaks of which had hardened and strained against the cotton of her T-shirt under his gaze, her p
reviously flat belly which was now swollen sufficiently with his baby that her once loose-fitting top now skimmed it as she nervously shifted from one foot to the other.

  His gaze drifted up from those feet and his groin tightened at the almost physical memory of those long, perfectly toned legs wrapped around his hips as she’d levered herself against him in the height of passion. And his chest constricted with the knowledge that in the midst of the most incredible night of his life he and this woman had created a child.

  As a teenager Amanda-Jayne Vaughan had been his fantasy; four months ago fate had presented him with the opportunity to fulfil that fantasy. In those few brief hours of passion, fate and fantasy had combined to complicate whatever vague plans he’d had for his future—certainly marriage and fatherhood hadn’t been among them—yet for some inexplicable reason the only decision he regretted was lying silent as she’d gathered her clothes and fled his hotel room.

  For him the night had been magic and he refused to believe she had no recollection of what had happened between them.

  Every brain cell in Amanda-Jayne’s head urged her to run. But they were drowned out by the loud thumping of her heart and her body’s inability to acknowledge anything but the soundless, sensual intent of Reb’s eyes. She was as helpless to look away from the hungry desire they focused on her as she was to ignore the fiery sensuality snaking through every fibre of her being. Speech was beyond her, but considering the state of her mind that was probably a blessing; the wild images it had initially conjured had suddenly turned into wilful, wanton wishes which, if voiced aloud, would have shocked her conscience and perhaps changed her mind. And she didn’t want to change her mind. Rightly or wrongly she wanted to make love with this man whose eyes were transmitting his thoughts to her body as effectively as his words or touch could have; more effectively. Had she been a guitar his eyes could have strummed her to song. Had she been ice his glance would have melted her. And had she been frightened his gaze would have instilled bravery.