Maureen Child

Kings of California


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Adam cut her a look.

      “About what?”

      “Talking about the baby I want must make you remember your son.”

      Adam froze. He felt his features tighten and everything in him go hard and still as glass. Memories jumped into his mind, but he refused to acknowledge them. He turned them off as easily as punching the remote button aimed at a television. He’d had a lot of practice.

      He wasn’t open to talking about the son he’d lost five years before and they might as well get that straight right up front. “I don’t talk about him. Ever.”

      Her eyes went soft in sympathy and Adam resented it. He didn’t need her feeling sorry for him.

      “I understand.”

      “You couldn’t possibly,” he told her.

      A silent second or two passed before Gina said, “Fine, you’re right. I don’t understand. I hope I never learn the kind of pain you experienced and—”

      He caught her hand in his and gave it a hard squeeze. Just enough to get her to stop talking. How the hell had they gotten onto the subject of his lost family anyway? Wasn’t their bargain supposed to be about sex, plain and simple? “What part of ‘I don’t talk about it’ didn’t you get?”

      She pulled her hand free of his, pushed herself up on the bed and leaned in close to him. Staring into his eyes, it looked as though she were searching for something, some sign that there was warmth hidden somewhere inside him. Adam could have told her to not bother looking.

      After a long moment, Gina leaned in even further and kissed him, briefly, softly. “I get it, Adam. The subject’s off-limits.”

      “Good.”

      “I don’t want to talk anyway.” Gina stroked his cheek with her palm and drew his head closer to hers.

      “That’s good, too.” At her touch, his body heated and was instantly ready for her again. He’d been too long without a woman, that was all. He’d been a damn recluse for five years, with only the occasional, temporary woman to ease needs that couldn’t be denied any longer.

      That explained why his response to Gina was so overwhelming. It was just biological, that was all. It wasn’t about her. It was about sex. Need.

      And when she moved into him, he kept telling himself that, even as he inhaled her scent, drawing it deep inside him. Even as he twisted his hand into her hair, letting the silky feel of it slide over his skin. Even as he took her mouth and tasted the sweetness that was Gina alone.

      He couldn’t—wouldn’t—allow anything else.

      She tried to roll over in his arms, but he kept her on her stomach and shifted enough that he could trail kisses along the length of her spine. Such soft, honey-brown skin. Such long lines and rich curves. He heard her sigh and felt her tremble as his left hand swept down to stroke her bottom. He glanced at her, saw her eyes closed, her hands fisted in the bank of pillows.

      “Adam…”

      “We have all night, Gina,” he said and suddenly knew that he wanted every moment of the night. He wanted her over him, under him. He wanted to taste and explore every glorious inch of her and then he wanted to start all over again.

      Fire erupted in his blood as she moved on the sheets and he knew he had to have her. No more thinking. No more worrying about tomorrow or the day after that. For now, he would waste no more time with her.

      Flipping her over with a quick twist, he grinned when she smiled up at him and lifted her arms in welcome. He slid into her embrace, covering her body with his and when he entered her, she arched her hips to take him completely. To hold him deep inside her heat. And Adam closed his mind to everything but her.

      They moved together in a rhythm that left them both breathless. Bodies sang, minds emptied and when the first flash of release slammed into Gina, Adam held on to her, watching her eyes, dazzled with pleasure as he surrendered himself to the glory waiting for him.

      Seven

      Thanks to Esperanza Sanchez, Adam’s longtime housekeeper, Gina was pretty sure she’d gained five pounds in four days. The older woman was so happy to see Adam married again, she hadn’t stopped cooking all week. And every time Gina tried to help out in the kitchen, straighten up the living room or even to dust, she was shooed out of the room and told to go spend time with her new husband.

      Not as easy as it sounded.

      Esperanza was determined to see that Gina felt at home. Even if Adam was a little less than welcoming. Staring into a full-length mirror in the bedroom she now shared with Adam, Gina wasn’t looking at her own reflection so much as at the gigantic bed behind her. That was the only place she felt as though Adam was glad to have her in his home.

      “Happy to have me in his bed anyway,” she muttered and tried to find the bright spot in that statement. At least they shared passion. At least they connected occasionally. Even if it was only physically.

      “Pitiful, Gina, just pitiful.” She shook her head, met her own gaze in the mirror and gave her reflection one last glance. Not exactly a femme fatale, she admitted. In her pink T-shirt, worn jeans and boots, she looked more like a ranch hand than a newlywed. Her long dark hair hung down her back in a single braid and her eyes looked huge in her face.

      She’d had a lot of hopes for this bargain. Had counted on Adam being a little easier to maneuver than he was proving. Instead he seemed determined to keep to himself. To keep their relationship as superficial as possible, despite the fact that they were married and living together.

      Gina turned away, opened the French doors to their bedroom terrace and stepped out onto the glossy wood floor. The early morning sky was deep blue, but there were storm clouds banking out over the ocean. Now why, she wondered, did that sound like a perfect metaphor for her marriage?

      They’d been back from Vegas for nearly a week, and it was as if that brief “honeymoon” had never happened. She leaned both hands on the second-story balcony railing and curled her fingers over the sun-warmed decorative iron. The minute they’d arrived back at the ranch, Adam had closed himself off. She actually felt like they were a couple those days and nights together. It was as if a switch inside him had been flipped. He’d become the recluse he’d been for five long years. She hardly saw him during the day and when she did, he was distant, if polite. The only time he warmed to her was at night.

      Then, he was the man she’d always dreamed he would be. Then, he gave himself and took from her. Every time they came together was better than the time before. Frankly the sex was incredible. Gina’d never known anything quite like it. But at the bottom of it, if all they shared was great sex, was there anything between them worth fighting for?

      “Way to go, Gina,” she muttered. “Depress yourself.”

      She squinted into the sun and watched Adam walk with long, determined steps into the barn. Once he’d been swallowed by the shadows, Gina sighed. She wondered what he was doing. What he was thinking. He didn’t talk to her. Didn’t share his plans for the day. Didn’t let her into what was going on in his head. It was as if she were a boarder here at the ranch. Nothing more than a guest who would be moving on shortly.

      Another sigh escaped before she could stop it. Bending slightly, she leaned her elbows on the railing and studied the shiny new gold band on her ring finger. She wasn’t a guest. She was his wife. For now.

      At least, for as long as it took her to get pregnant.

      Which, she thought, explained why she was still using her diaphragm. A tiny thread of guilt whipped through her like summer lightning. She admitted at least to herself that what she was doing wasn’t technically fair. But she was willing to risk everything for the chance at real love. Even if that meant Adam one day finding out what she’d done. If that day came, she’d confess all and hope that he understood.

      Every night, he did everything he could to impregnate