A Stranger's Bed Read online

  A Stranger's Bed

  Sophia Rae

  Wild Rose Press (2007)

  * * *

  Tags: Romance, Fiction, Contemporary, General

  Two strangers find something they had no idea they were looking for. To clear her head and possibly figure out her life's path, Chloe Adkins sets out on a road trip. A summer storm forces an unplanned stop, and she is suddenly side-tracked by the hot B&B owner. Marcus Delaney doesn't have time for a relationship. He's trying to keep his family-owned business from financial failure. But when his soft and sexy guest suggests a no strings weekend, how can he say no?

  Only after Chloe fumbled under her seat, waded through empty granola wrappers and retrieved her umbrella, did she risk opening her car door to Mother Nature’s fury. The wind was stronger than she’d thought, causing the umbrella to flip up.

  Damn it! She ran for the shelter of the porch, shook herself like a wet dog and leaned her useless umbrella against the side of the house.

  “Please, please, let them have a room,” she chanted as she rang the bell, shivering through the high August temps.

  Then the door opened.

  White hot heat. That’s the only way she could describe her body temperature as she drank in the man on the other side of the door. Had he just walked off the cover of a romance novel? No, he was better than any man on a romance cover. Sexier. Seductive. Hot. And real.

  Easily over six feet, his height impressed her. But it was his mesmerizing dark eyes that made her catch her breath. They held her gaze, not giving her any choice but to stare in response.

  His dark chestnut hair and golden skin made him appear exotic, like a god of some sort, with a nice firm mouth and a square jaw that demanded attention. And attention was precisely what she wanted to give him.

  Chloe’s mouth went dry. He stood in a pair of loose-fitting jeans with a plain, crisp white T-shirt that revealed sculpted arms.

  Her eyes flickered to his left hand. No ring. Her heart jumped up and down in her chest while her nerves did their own little happy dance.

  A Stranger’s Bed

  by

  Sophia Rae

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  A Stranger’s Bed

  COPYRIGHT Ó 2007 by Sophia Rae

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Angela Anderson

  The Wild Rose Press

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0706

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First Scarlet Edition, 2007

  Print ISBN 1-60154-152-X

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedication

  To everybody who finds love when they least expect it, but when they need it most.

  Chapter One

  The curvy roads turned treacherous as the rain beat down, visibility nearly impossible. Chloe eased up on the gas, slowing her Lexus SUV. Heavy sheets fell too hard and fast even for the highest speed of her wipers.

  The torrential downpour seemed to match her mood. Bitchy.

  A few miles back she’d passed a sign welcoming her into Ohio. She’d been driving for the past eight hours, only stopping once four hours ago. Her butt and legs tingled from sitting in the same position for so long, and though common sense told her to stop, determination and stubbornness kept her going. Rain be damned.

  Glancing down at the gas gauge, she sighed at the needle as it hovered dangerously close to the E. There had to be somewhere nearby to stay for the night, although she had serious doubts about finding a hotel within these hills and farmlands.

  Of all the places she’d traveled during her twenty-nine years, she’d never been to Ohio. What she’d seen so far seemed like any other Midwestern state—hilly, green fields, windy roads. A typical country setting. At least, that’s what it had looked like before the unrelenting downpour set in.

  Sheryl Crow’s voice came through the radio, singing about the first cut being the deepest. Chloe knew that all too well. The first cut, the second and the third. They all ran deep within her. She cranked up the song, drowning out the sound of her foul mood. Unfortunately, it wasn’t loud enough to drown out the sound of the rain beating against her car.

  Lightning streaked across the sky, causing Chloe to jump in her seat. Her hands tightened on the wheel as she passed a sign for a Bed and Breakfast only five miles ahead. Weariness had long since overcome her, and she didn’t care if it was the Bate’s Motel, she would stay for the night.

  A tall, wooden sign with big, bold white letters read Delaney’s Bed and Breakfast, and she signaled her turn onto the long gravel drive. Her tires dipped in and out of potholes, thanks to the storm washing away the gravel. Tree limbs, heavy from precipitation, formed a canopy and smacked the top of her car as she made her way up to the two-story red brick Colonial home.

  Chloe’s eyes followed the large white columns extending to the second story. She smiled at the cozy double porches that ran along the length of the first and second floors of the massive home. White wicker furniture adorned the main porch while wooden swings hung on each end. She imagined guests swinging as they sipped on freshly squeezed lemonade. Even through the sheets of rain, she could see the beauty this place held.

  She sat in her car for a moment, taking in her surroundings, pleased she’d found such a charming place for the night. Oversized grey ceramic pots overflowing with impatience, marigolds, ivy and spikes sat safely on the porch close to the door, but the blossoming pink azaleas and white rhododendrons outlining the front of the home drooped from a thorough soaking.

  Two other cars were parked in the driveway, a full-sized black Chevy truck and a silver Toyota Camry. Surely all the rooms weren’t taken.

  Only after Chloe fumbled under her seat, waded through empty granola wrappers and retrieved her umbrella, did she risk opening her car door to Mother Nature’s fury. The wind was stronger than she’d thought, causing the umbrella to flip up.

  Damn it! She ran for the shelter of the porch, shook herself like a wet dog and leaned her useless umbrella against the side of the house.

  “Please, please, let them have a room,” she chanted as she rang the bell, shivering through the high August temps.

  Then the door opened.

  White hot heat. That’s the only way she could describe her body temperature as she drank in the man on the other side of the door. Had he just walked off the cover of a romance novel? No, he was better than any man on a romance cover. Sexier. Seductive. Hot. And real.

  Easily over six feet, his height impressed her. But it was his mesmerizing dark eyes that made her catch her breath. They held her gaze, not giving her any choice but to stare in response.

  His dark chestnut hair and golden skin made him appear exotic, like a god of some sort, with a nice firm mouth and a square jaw that demanded attention. And attention was precisely what she wanted to give him.

  Chloe’s mouth went dry. He stood in a pair of loose-fitting jeans with a plain, crisp white T-shirt that revealed sculpted arms.

  Her eyes flickered to his left hand. No ring. Her heart jumped up and down in her chest while her nerves did their own little happy dance.

  Oh sure, she’d had men, but she’d never been this taken by one before. Not this in
stantly, and especially not with a stranger. Perhaps, the latter was where the intrigue stemmed.

  No, she would not resort to her old ways. Starting now she had to get her life back in order. Sex would not be priority number one.

  “Can I help you?” the god asked.

  His low Midwestern accent washed over her and sent shivers through her rain-soaked body. Chloe, you idiot. Speak. “I…um…need a room.”

  With a sultry smile, he stepped back. “Come on in.”

  Chloe wiped her shoes on the welcome mat before she entered. “I’m all wet. Perhaps you have a towel or something I could dry off with so I don’t track water in.”

  “It’s only water,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Come on in.”

  Once inside, the aroma of something sweet and spicy filled her senses—sugar cookies perhaps? Her once dry mouth began to water at the thought of food. She hadn’t eaten for hours, and two granola bars didn’t count as a meal. Ironically, though, her appetite wasn’t for food anymore.

  “I’m Marcus Delaney.” He extended one tanned, muscular arm.

  Oh yeah, he would have a name strong and sexy like that. “I’m Chloe Adkins.”

  She shook his hand and tried to ignore the bursts of light and power shooting up her arm. She let go too soon...or perhaps too late. Tremors crept over her sex starved horny self. The man had quite a grip, a powerful grip like that could do wonderful things to her petite body. Quite a lot of things, she decided.

  Control yourself, Chloe. The man had only offered a much needed room for the night, not a meaningless fling. Her past might prove harder to escape than she’d first thought.

  “Do you have any luggage?”

  Luggage? Chloe’s attention snapped back to the fact he was speaking. “Oh, yeah, I left it in the car. I didn’t want to lug it out in the rain if a room wasn’t available. I’ll go get it.”

  “No.” He held up a hand to stop her. “I can get it.”

  “But I’m already wet.” In more places then one. “It’s silly for you to go out there.”

  “I insist.”

  ****

  Violent, skin-pelting rain soaked through Marcus’s shirt the second he stepped onto the stone steps. He didn’t know what divine intervention had dropped her off on his doorstep, but he was grateful to whatever god decided to shine down on him today.

  That woman was a sexy, wet angel with a body made for erotic fantasies. And for the night, she was his guest.

  The main reason he’d insisted on getting her luggage, other than the fact his mother had raised a gentleman, was because he needed the cool rain to get his head on straight. With the financial bind he’d put the family in, he couldn’t afford to scare off any prospective guests. Which meant, no flirting. Damn.

  Frowning at the one bag in the back seat, Marcus grabbed it, slammed her rear door and took his time getting back inside. His body was still steaming—no, smoldering would be a better word to describe his body’s state.

  He’d damn near swallowed his tongue when he opened the door to Miss Chloe Adkins. At least he assumed she was a Miss. There she had stood with her long honey blonde hair clinging to her shoulders and the tops of her bare arms, and the little blue tank did nothing to hide the fact she was built sexy as hell. Unlike his brother, who liked his women stick straight, Marcus liked a woman built like a woman should be, with a nice round ass and full breasts.

  And those legs. Dear God, they went up to her neck. He couldn’t help but imagine them wrapped around him as he pumped in and out of her.

  Okay, this did nothing to get his libido under control. Now he stood at his front door rock hard and uncomfortable in his wet jeans.

  He stepped back inside, and Miss Adkins, still where he’d left her in the foyer, turned to face him. A smile, bright and wide, spread across her face, causing his hormones to kick into overdrive. Her dimples winked at him. Damn it. Dimples did him in every time. He had to have this woman.

  “Thank you so much. If you could just show me where my room is, I’d like to get out of these wet clothes.” She reached for her bag.

  “Sure. Why don’t you let me carry this up for you,” he offered with a little too much eagerness and held the suitcase out of reach. Get a grip, Delaney, you’ll scare her away before you have a chance for...well, anything. God, this was so unprofessional, not to mention pathetic.

  Marcus gave her no choice but to follow him up the narrow, curved staircase. He led her to the room directly across from the stairs. Once he got the oak-paneled door unlocked, he pushed it open and gestured for her to enter ahead of him.

  “I hope this suits you.”

  He watched Chloe take in her surroundings. Little by little her face lit up as she circled the room. Gently, she ran her fingertips over the four-poster Rice bed and ivory duvet. He’d purposely given her the largest guest room, conveniently located next to his. Yes, those were the perks to owning your own Bed and Breakfast.

  “Let me go get us some towels.” Marcus left her only a moment to go into the small attached bathroom. When he came back in, she was still admiring the room.

  “Thanks.” She took the fluffy yellow towel he extended to her. “Sorry I tracked all the way up your stairs.”

  “It’ll dry. Besides, I think I’m wetter than you are.”

  “I saw two other cars in the driveway. Do you have more guests?”

  Marcus shook his head. “You’re the only guest tonight. The car you saw is my sister’s. Sometimes after work she’ll drop by to have dinner with me. As for the truck, it’s mine.”

  She wandered over to the French doors. “Mind if I open the doors to see the porch?”

  “Not at all.” As if hypnotized, Marcus remained still while she opened the glass doors, letting in the refreshing scent and sound of the rain. The cream-colored sheers on either side of the doors billowed around her as the gusty winds blew in. She lifted her face to the fine mist, making Marcus wonder what it would be like to lick the moisture off her delicate skin.

  “Even with this weather, it’s beautiful from up here,” she commented without turning around. She flung her hair over one shoulder to squeeze the moisture into the towel. “I can’t imagine how beautiful it is with the sun coming up over those evergreens.”

  Marcus didn’t tell her he often got up at dawn to watch the sky go from night to day. He shook off the coincidence and moved in closer behind her, to torture himself perhaps. He was close enough to take in the scent of something flowery mixed with the fresh rain, but still far enough so he couldn’t touch her. Taking a moment, he allowed his gaze to roam where his hands ached to.

  What on earth had gotten into him? He was no longer a horny teenager. And he’d known her for all of, what? Five minutes?

  When she turned around, he caught a glimpse of something in her eyes. Caution or pain? A little of both maybe.

  “Well, I need to get back downstairs. We already had dinner, but if you want to come down, I’m sure I can heat you something up.” Or I can heat you up.

  “Thanks, but I’m not hungry. I think I’ll just relax and read a book.”

  “My room’s right next door. If you need anything, let me know.” He reached for her towel. “Here, let me take that wet towel for you. They’re more in the bathroom right over there.”

  “Thank you.”

  For a second or two, they stood in silence.

  “Was there anything else?” Her voice dropped to a whisper.

  “No.” He backed up a step, his eyes fixed on hers. Was she inviting him to stay? Nah, wishful thinking. “I’ll be downstairs if you change your mind about dinner.”

  Before he could make an absolute fool of himself, Marcus forced himself to leave the room. He bounded down the stairs, praying to God he hadn’t been staring at her with his mouth open. The woman was beautiful and sexy, that much he figured out at the first glance. But what he couldn’t pinpoint was why he found himself so interested in her.

  Guests came and went. Some told their
personal stories, some didn’t. Some stayed for days or weeks, some only stayed one night.

  As Marcus stood at the base of the steps looking up, he really hoped Chloe stayed longer than one night.

  ****

  Chloe breathed a sigh of relief the second Marcus shut the door behind him. The mere presence of the man was hazardous to her health. She didn’t recall taking a breath the whole time he’d been in the room with her. And of course, she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever had sex in the oversized bed that filled her room. If so, was the woman who shared it with him still in the picture?

  Hell, she’d just met the man and already she wanted to know his sexual history. How many lovers and girlfriends he had. Were there wives?

  Chloe shrugged off the unnecessary thoughts and walked into the small adjoining bath, decorated in navy, yellow and white. She stood before the white pedestal sink, risking a glance at herself in the oval mirror.

  Oh. My. God. Could she look any worse? Black mascara had settled under her eyes, and any other sign of make-up had obviously vanished. Her towel-dried hair hung like a long, thick rope over her shoulders while her tank top clung to her full breasts for dear life, making her nipples look like little pebbles. No wonder he took pity on me.

  The state of her appearance would do nothing short of humiliate her parents. Fortunately, they weren’t around to see. Though they’d never paid much attention to her anyway, unless it had been to tell her to watch her weight.

  After Chloe changed into a dry grey tank and matching lounge pants, washed her face and settled on the bed with a book she’d already read, she felt somewhat normal again.

  At the knock on her door, Chloe snapped her head up. Her heart picked up the pace at the thought of Marcus standing on the other side.