How different he looked when he was asleep. It was the first time she had seen him sleeping, the first time she’d been able to look and take her time about it. She liked what she saw, the corded muscles running along his chest and bare arms, the way his chest hair curled down to a point on his stomach. Even relaxed, he was powerful. His chin was slack, with a slight shading of whisker growth, his brow smooth, with an unruly lock of coal-black hair falling across it.
She was disconcerted to suddenly realize that without the usual grin curling his lips and the laughter in those jewel-like eyes, he could very well be his dangerous brother lying there.
Now why had that thought occurred to her? She hadn’t thought about Slade since she and Lucas had returned from the mountains. She’d been relieved not to find Slade waiting for them at the ranch. But it was true. With the eyes closed and the face relaxed, there wasn’t a single difference between them.
Twins. Remarkable what different experiences could do to two brothers, making one as dangerous as a coiled rattlesnake and the other a loveable rogue. One took her feelings into consideration, the other arrogantly disdained them.
Sharisse quickly looked away, afraid to continue with that train of thought. She caught sight of Charley in his porcelain bowl, and she grinned at his expression. He actually looked disgruntled. Well, Charley had never taken to Lucas, always growling softly when Lucas got near her. She supposed he wasn’t too pleased to find Lucas in what he no doubt considered his personal domain.
At that moment Charley jumped out of his bowl and then out the window, as if he had only waited until he got her attention so he could make his displeasure felt, and now he was showing her what he thought of her promiscuous behavior. Well! To be snubbed by one’s own cat.
“Good morning, beautiful.”
Sharisse turned to Lucas with a start. “How many times must I ask you not to call me that?” she said, exasperated.
“Don’t scold, honey, not so early in the morning.” He pulled her down, and in one quick movement he was on top of her, grinning devilishly. “And why can’t I call you beautiful?”
“Because your brother did, and it reminds me of him,” she retorted with as much dignity as she could muster.
His lips brushed hers teasingly, and then he kissed those tender, perfectly shaped breasts. “Well, I don’t want that, at least not when I’m making love to you. I don’t care to be jealous of my own brother.”
“Are you a jealous man, Lucas?”
Between soft kisses, he murmured, “Don’t know.”
“Then why did you say that?”
“Let’s just say, when you’re with me, I want to be sure you’re with me completely. Understand?”
“I can barely think at all now, Lucas,” she whispered.
Her eyes closed and she moaned softly as he moved lower, his lips nuzzling her belly, his hands gripping her sides, raising her off the bed so that her head fell back. She was lost in sensation, whirling inside a tide that he deftly stirred.
She nearly cried out as he stopped. When she opened her eyes, he was looking her over in a way that made her feel worshiped, adored, and wanted, definitely wanted. This man was not after her money or her virginity. There was no ulterior motive behind his lovemaking. He simply wanted her—for herself. The feeling thrilled her, striking a chord of warmth in her that had never been touched before.
“God, you’re beautiful.”
“I’m beginning to think you really think so,” she said breathlessly.
His eyes locked with hers. “But you don’t think so?”
“Oh, Lucas, stop talking,” she moaned. She reached for his head and pulled him down to her.
He laughed deeply. She wanted him now, but he wanted to savor her, explore her. He wanted to make her pleasure the sweetest yet.
His lips claimed hers in a searing kiss, while his hands found her most sensitive places. He learned what delighted her most as he brought her to one exquisite height after another. He also learned that where Sharisse was concerned, there was as much pleasure in giving as in taking. Before the morning was over, he had broken down the last of her inhibitions. It was an experience neither of them would forget.
Twenty-five
Sharisse dropped the petticoat she had been washing as Lucas came around the side of the house into the backyard. He was carrying Charley curled in his arms. He was grinning, and Charley was purring. Sharisse had to wonder if she weren’t imagining things.
But the moment Charley got a whiff of her scent, he let out a terrible howl and fought like a demon to get out of Lucas’s arms. Once loose, he jumped through her bedroom window.
“I had a feeling he’d do that,” Lucas said as he straddled the rug-beating rail near her. “I couldn’t figure out why he and I didn’t hit it off. See, I usually have a way with animals. It runs in the family. But I finally figured out what was wrong.”
“What?”
“When was the last time Charley had a female?”
