Marriage by Mistake

hips against the ridge in his trousers. Did it truly matter if she closed the barn door now, when the horses had been let out not once, but several times?
    Dean's fingers found her taut nipple through the cotton of her dress. The jerk of arousal pulled Kelly out of her haze. Wait a minute. She'd sort of decided it did matter. Surrendering now, without words of love, would leave her vulnerable and unprotected.
    "Stay," Dean then breathed. "Kelly. Stay with me."
    Oh, boy. Kelly lifted her lashes. Dean's eyes were closed, his face drawn in lines of stark, heedless need.
    He didn't merely want her. He needed her. Kelly's love for him swelled.
    "I'm here," she choked out. She brushed her hand against his cheek. "I'm not going anywhere, Dean."
    With a low sound, he opened his mouth over hers in a deeply carnal kiss. Kelly kissed him back, while reaching behind herself to draw down her zipper.
    Some rules, she told herself, were meant to be broken.
    ~~~
    It was the kind of a party that was usually Troy's favorite: good booze, loud music, and a wide variety of women. The range of females at this particular shindig went all the way from somebody's wacky grandmother, wearing décolletage and pearls, to a gaggle of terrified-looking Harvard undergrads.
    But all Troy could do was wander the many rooms of the mansion of a friend of a friend and feel...bored.
    He forced himself to come to a stop in the main room of the house, the one with the DJ and the dancing. He stood next to the five foot high speaker and lifted his martini to his nose for a sniff. His body hummed with the vibrations of the music, but he felt an overall dissatisfaction. Hell. It didn't make sense.
    Troy was always satisfied. He made himself satisfied, whatever the situation. He'd learned to do so at the age of fifteen, when they'd come to tell him that both his parents had died in the same small plane crash. That's when he'd figured out that life was not going to turn out the way he'd like it to, so he'd better learn to be happy with whatever was .
    Sniffing his martini again, Troy brooded that he'd yet to learn how to be happy about his last interview—his last kiss—with Felicia. That kiss had been...amazing. But while his body craved more kisses from the woman, his brain knew better. They couldn't have a relationship. Why, they didn't even define the word the same way!
    And yet...and yet... Troy's lashes lowered. And yet, there was something very unfinished about the whole business.
    Across the room by the bartender, one of the Harvard undergrads lifted her Margarita and smiled at Troy, apparently not as terrified as he'd assumed. Indeed, the girl was on the bold side, considering Troy looked what he was: a dozen years her senior. He smiled back, but turned and walked in the opposite direction, as if he'd just remembered a previous assignation.
    As he strode through the next room, the one with the tables heaped with appetizers, he tried desperately to remember. Would he have walked away from a smiling undergrad two weeks ago, before this whole thing with Felicia had started? Had he owned that many scruples? He gnashed his teeth and hoped to God he would have behaved with such restraint.
    Otherwise, he had to worry that kissing Felicia might have ruined him for anyone else.
    After stalking right through the appetizer room and out onto the lawn, Troy stopped, shuddered, and finally took a swallow of the drink he'd only been sniffing for the past hour. Felicia ruining him. It was a scary thought.
    Or was it? Was it actually scary, or was it something else? Maybe it was something he wasn't ready to define—but that he'd forever rue if he didn't explore.
    He took another swallow of his drink and looked out over the darkened landscape. He was always satisfied. He never wanted anything he couldn't have. And he probably couldn't have Felicia.
    Probably. But then, probably wasn't certainly . And this particular probably was going to drive him crazy. What if he could have her? What if he could experience a fulfillment he hadn't enjoyed in fifteen years? What if?
    Troy bared his teeth and tossed the rest of his martini over the lawn. Hell. He had a sinking feeling there'd be no peace for him until he exerted himself and did something about that probably .

    CHAPTER NINETEEN

    Completely comfortable in Kelly's bed, Dean yawned luxuriantly. It was Monday, he was already late for work, and since the moment he'd walked into Kelly's bedroom last night he'd crossed every