The Secret Child & The Cowboy CEO by Janice Maynard Page B

“Let’s face it. We have nothing in common, Trent. You’re leaving very soon…as soon as Gage gets here. Mac might get the wrong idea if he realizes we’ve been…”
    â€œScrewing?”
    His deliberate crudity hurt. “You were always special to me, Trent. And what we did this afternoon was—”
    He grabbed her wrist. “If you say fun, so help me, God, I’ll shake you, Bryn. But don’t worry, sweetheart.” A sneer curled his perfect lips. “I get the message. You have a short attention span when it comes to men. Maybe Jesse was right about you after all.”
    He lowered his mouth to hers, giving her no time to protest. But his lips were gentler than his mood, less combative, coaxing rather than demanding her submission. His tongue invaded her mouth, devastating, as he mimicked the sex act. Her knees went weak. She clung to his arms for support. Even now, with intense emotion radiating from his big frame, she felt no fear, no urge to run.
    His hips were melded to hers, leaving no doubt about his state of mind. His erection pressed insistently against her lower abdomen. He was giving her what she craved…perhaps for the last time. And all she wanted to do was meet his raging hunger with her own desperate need for him.
    It was over too soon. He shoved her away, his chest heaving. “We’re not done with this, Bryn. Not by a long shot.”
    He got in the car, slammed the door and sped away, leaving her on the sidewalk.
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    Trent swore violently. How in the hell had she done it to him again?
    Was she scared? Or was this part of a Machiavellian plan? Did she think she could turn him into a sex-starved, drooling idiot?
    How dare she throw their lovemaking in his face? He’d begun to trust her, to believe in her. And she was deliberately trying to drive him away. He sent the car careening down the road, mile after mile, until reason prevailed and he eased his foot off the accelerator. He’d be no good to anyone dead. Mac was depending on him, and Trent didn’t have the luxury of letting his temper reign.
    Back at the ranch, he dealt with the various chores on autopilot, his brain racing madly to understand Bryn’s behavior. The storm struck with a vengeance, drenching him as he ran from barn to stable to house. When he was finally done for the night, he showered and prowled the halls, wandering from room to room, the electricity in the air keeping him on edge.
    He would have bet his entire fortune that Bryn’s responses to him had been real…heartfelt. Thinking about last night and this afternoon made him hard as a pike again, and he stood at the large plate-glass window, nude, watching the fury of the storm.
    In his memory he saw the smooth perfection of her skin, the way her body responded to his touch. Her warmth. Her scent. His chest hurt, and he rubbed it absently. Jesse stood beside him in the night, a wraith, a painful puzzle.
    â€œWhy did you do it, Jesse?” He put his hand on the cold glass. “Why lie about Bryn? Why the stealing? The drugs?”
    His only answer was the howl of the wind and the beating of his own heart.
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    â€œHey, boss. Good to have you back.”
    Trent grinned at the young intern who had the temerity to poke his head into the private office. “Get to work, Chad. Or we’ll cut your pay.” The cheeky twenty-year-old from the University of Colorado was smart, self-motivated and had fought hard for this unpaid position. He reminded Trent a little of himself at that age.
    When the door closed once again, Trent got up from his broad cherry desk and paced the expanse of thick royal-blue carpet. The huge plate-glass window on the opposite wall showcased Denver’s downtown skyline, but Trent barely spared it a glance.
    After making sure Mac was safely back on his home turf, Trent had come to Denver again to wrap up the business that had been interrupted. He’d half expected