Tomorrow would be soon enough to open this particular Pandora's Box.

She popped two aspirins to ward off a threatening headache and crawled into bed, but sleep eluded her. No matter what she tried, she couldn't make her mind a blank. The evening repeated itself over and over in her head, like a television rerun she couldn't turn off.

The proposal tonight had rocked her, the offer coming from so far out in left field she had trouble coming to terms with it. And the terms of the marriage. A hired wife and mother. How trite! If the idea weren't so unsettling, she'd be laughing out loud.

If only she knew what secrets he hid. There had been a problem with his sudden marriage to Maggie, but neither Jake nor Sean had ever discussed it. The only time Cole had smiled in more than a year was when Molly was born. Then Maggie had died and Cole hadn't mentioned either her or the child since. It was more than the grieving process. A hardness and bitterness had settled over him that hadn't been there before.

Too often, she caught a glimpse of such pain it made her want to weep. Tonight was the most outgoing she'd seen him since his marriage. But of course, he had a reason for it. A plot.

She had an insane desire to giggle when she thought of yesterday's conversation with her mother.

"I do wish you'd get out once in a while," Ellen had said. "Solitude is only good for so long."

"I'm fine," Tara had a.s.sured her. "I don't need anyone. I don't want anyone."

"Well, it's just not natural. It makes me sad to see what's happened to you. You're still young and beautiful, and you're wasting your life."

Okay, mother. Wait until I tell you about tonight's dinner.

I must be insane even to consider his proposal, she thought, after the tragedy of her first marriage. Could she enter into another marriage, even one of convenience, when she hadn't yet put to rest the last one?

Again she wondered what it would be like living with Cole Ca.s.sidy? What did he eat?

Watch on television? Read? Did he stay up late or go to bed early? Did he roam the house and would she run into him if she made any nocturnal forays? Her mind drifted as she fell into a half-sleep.

He was standing beside the bed, wet from a shower, wearing only the towel wrapped around his lean hips...

The bedside lamp was on low, casting a golden glow on his toned body but shadowing his face. The glow in his eyes had nothing to do with artificial light, however.

"I want you." His voice was rough with desire. "I've wanted you from the first time I set eyes on you. You don't know how many times you came into my office and I couldn't get up from my desk because my c.o.c.k was so hard.""I want you, too," she whispered. "You don't know how many times I dreamed about you, just like this."

"I had my own dreams. But now we have the reality."

He tossed the towel aside, revealing an impressive erection and the sac with his b.a.l.l.s resting heavy against his thighs. The muscles of her p.u.s.s.y quivered and moisture slid out onto her inner thighs. The ache inside her grew until she felt it in every throb of her pulse.

Cole pulled back the sheet covering her and lifted her to a sitting position, deftly sliding the thin nightgown over her head. His gaze raked over her, the heat in his eyes flaring brighter.

"Gorgeous," he breathed."Absolutely gorgeous, just as I knew you'd be."

He lay down beside her, propping his head with one hand as he ran the other lightly over her body. His fingers traced a pattern along her cheek, down her neck and between the valley of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. They glided across her puckered nipples, pausing to pinch each one lightly. Shards of heat streaked directly to her c.u.n.t and spread throughout her body.

As he explored her, his mouth found hers, taking her in a predatory kiss that roused her senses. He tasted every inch of her mouth, her own small tongue dueling with his for possession.

When he gently bit the tip of her tongue, she reached up to clutch at his head, trying to pull him even closer. When he broke the kiss, she was gasping for breath.

His palm rested a moment on her tummy, then his fingers trailed into the nests of curls covering her mound, finally probing the wetness of her slit. Her legs parted, giving him greater access to her and the tip of one finger circled the entrance to her c.u.n.t. He inserted it barely past the first knuckle, and her inner muscles clenched in response. He shifted slightly beside her, and the full length of his c.o.c.k pressed against her thigh.

She tried to urge him farther inside her with her hips, but he was intent on teasing. As his finger moved slowly in and out of her, never pushing all the way in, he bent his head and captured one tight nipple into his mouth and sucked. Hard.

Tara moaned harder, the coil of need inside her winding tighter and tighter.

"Please," she murmured. "Oh, please."

"Please what?" he asked, lifting his mouth from her breast. "Please kiss you? Lick you?

f.u.c.k you?"

"Yes. Everything. All of it." She pressed one hand against the taut muscles of his back, feeling the play of sinews beneath the skin.

He pushed his finger all the way inside her then added a second.

"You are so d.a.m.n tight," he rasped, scissoring his fingers. "I can't wait to feel my d.i.c.k inside you."

He moved his thumb to find the hot bud of her c.l.i.toris, rubbing it back and forth.

Moisture flooded his fingers, and she clenched around them.

"That's it," he encouraged. "I want that wetness so I can slide into you."

She moved her hand from his back and tried to slide it between them, but he pulled it away.

"I want to touch you," she insisted.

"Not yet. If you do, I'm afraid we'll be finished before we barely get started. I've wanted to f.u.c.k you for so long I can barely control myself."

Those words, as much as what he was doing to her body, ratcheted up her pleasure even more. When he shifted again to move between her legs, she shivered in antic.i.p.ation. But instead of positioning himself to enter her, he slid down, opened the lips of her p.u.s.s.y as if they were petals on a flower and licked the length of her with one long swipe of his tongue.

Tara raised her knees, threaded her fingers through the black silk of his hair and pulled his head tight against her.

"Yes," she moaned. "Oh, yes."

His tongue was like a flame heating her flesh. His hands slid beneath her b.u.t.tocks, lifting her higher to his mouth as he licked and thrust and plundered. She felt the o.r.g.a.s.m gathering deep inside her, muscles tightening, pulses throbbing. When it broke over her, she clutched at his head, lifting her hips to him and digging her heels into the bed. She shook with the spasms, her inner muscles trying to draw his tongue in deeper.

As she was still clenching, he withdrew his tongue, rose to his knees pressed the head of his c.o.c.k against her opening.

"Now you can touch me," he whispered roughly. "Guide me home, Tara."

Still in the throes of o.r.g.a.s.m, she somehow managed to reach down for his shaft, widened her thighs and guided him into her body. He rolled his hip, and with one powerful thrust, he was inside her, stretching her, filling her until she couldn't breathe. One movement and she was plunged into another climax, this one even more powerful.

He held himself steady as she convulsed around him, bathing him with her liquid, wrapping her legs around him and digging her heels into the base of his spine. When she was gasping, nails digging into his shoulders, he began to move, powerful strokes in and out in a steady rhythm.

"I can't," she told him in a breathless voice.

"Yes, you can. Ride with me."

He drove into her faster. Beneath the grip of her legs, she felt his muscles tighten as his own climax gathered. His tempo increased as he pounded into her harder and harder. Finally he stopped, his entire body stiffening, and as he began to spurt inside her, another o.r.g.a.s.m gripped her, this one the most intense yet.

Her p.u.s.s.y convulsed around his c.o.c.k, her legs tightened around him, her entire body shuddered in the rhythm of the shared climax. She was spinning into s.p.a.ce, rockets exploding in the black velvet that surrounded her. The spasms seemed to go on forever until she wondered how she would survive it.

And finally, finally, the intensity subsided, leaving her breathless and gasping for air. Her heart beat against her ribs so hard she was afraid it would shatter. With great effort, she unwound her legs from him and lowered them to the bed.

Cole collapsed forward, catching himself on his forearms, his breath washing over her as he brushed her lips. His c.o.c.k was still inside her, still filling her. He touched his forehead to hers and- Tara roused with a start. She was covered in perspiration, her covers tossed aside, nightgown rucked up, her hand between her legs, stroking her still pulsing c.u.n.t.

OhmiG.o.d!

She squeezed her thighs together and withdrew her hand guiltily. Another erotic dream about Cole. Her body was weak, nearly boneless, as if she'd actually had multiple o.r.g.a.s.ms. She was truly losing her mind.

On shaky legs, she stumbled into the bathroom where she dampened a washcloth with cold water and ran it over her face, her neck and he arms. But it was going to take more than that to cool her still feverish body. She drank two gla.s.ses of water, hoping that would help, but it barely took the edge off the arousal still coursing through her. Filling the gla.s.s again, she wandered back into the bedroom.

She was standing by the bedroom window, rubbing the gla.s.s against her forehead, when the telephone rang, jerking her out of her thoughts.

She looked at the bedside clock. One-thirty! Who could be calling at that hour? Nothing good came of calls after midnight. Again, her first thought was of her father. Her stomach knotted in fear as she picked up the receiver.

"Tara?"

"Yes?" Her disoriented mind didn't recognize the raspy voice at first.

"It's Cole." There was a slight pause. "I apologize for the late hour. I hope I didn't wake you."

Cole? Oh, G.o.d, now what? And why did his voice sound so strange? Maybe he'd decided he wanted his answer right away. That he couldn't wait until morning. Her stomach churned at the thought.

"No, I was awake." After an unbelievable dream about you so hot I'm still shaking. "Is something wrong?"

"No. Yes. That is..."

"That is?" she prompted. She couldn't imagine this man ever fumbling for words.

"I was just thinking maybe I came across too strong tonight." His voice was slightly hoa.r.s.e, and she caught the edge of anxiety. This must really be d.a.m.n important o him. "I wanted to make sure I hadn't scared you away."

Too strong? She swallowed a hysterical laugh. A bulldozer would have been softer.

"I'm fine," she a.s.sured him. "Just turning a lot of things over in my mind."

"I'm sure you are." He cleared his throat. "Actually, I'm feeling kind of guilty. I don't think I realized I'd be asking you to turn your life upside down quite so much."

"Please don't worry. But I think we'd better hang up now. I'm still trying to sort through everything, and the night isn't getting any longer."

And I need to go to sleep and not dream about you.

"Of course. Iam sorry," he apologized. "I shouldn't have called this late in the first place."

"No, it's all right. Really."

Another pause. "To tell the truth, I think I was afraid you might decide I was totally crazy, pack up and leave."

"Not a chance." Though, after the dream, the idea had occurred to her. How could she agree to a s.e.xless marriage with a man she wanted inside her every time she saw him? "I'm not going anywhere."

"Thank you for that. And Tara? Whatever you decide, I want you to know it won't cost you your job."

Now she really did want to laugh. If she turned him down, how on earth could she go back to their everyday work arrangement-and keep dreaming at night-as if nothing had changed?

"We can discuss it if that turns out to be the case."

"Well, then." He seemed reluctant to break the connection. Again, silence stretched across the line. "See you in the morning."

"Good night."

More restless now than ever, she went to the kitchen and made herself a cup of tea, sipping at it and staring out the window as if the answer waited for her out there somewhere.

She could only hope.

At six in the morning, Cole finally gave up trying to sleep, showered and dressed. The child was still asleep, as was the dreadful housekeeper the last agency he'd called had sent him. If he didn't get her out of the house soon, he might have to shoot her.

Entering his office, he was surprised to find Jake already waiting for him.

He grinned at Cole. "Figure to dodge me by being an early bird? Not a chance. So. How did it go last night?"

"Please." Cole shook his head. "I've already had the speech from Sean. I woke him up in the middle of the night to tell him you're both right. I'm a fool."

And what a conversation that had been, prompting that incredibly stupid phone call to Tara.

Jake frowned at him. "Does this mean she turned you down?"

"It means she said she'd give me an answer today." He sat down beside his desk and pretended to busy himself with a stack of change orders.

"You look as if you haven't slept in a year."

"That's how I feel."

Especially after the fantasies that popped into my head when I tried to sleep and now won't get out of my mind. Tara naked in my bed. Tara with her legs spread wide and her swollen, pink c.u.n.t- "Cole?" Jake's voice cut into his mental wanderings. "Did you hear me? I asked how she reacted to the aNo s.e.x' clause?"

Cole frowned, remembering a mixture of relief and disappointment. "Actually, I think she was relieved.""Well." Jake ambled toward the door. "I'd wish you good luck, but if Tara says yes, she's the one who'll need it."

Cole said nothing. He was too edgy to argue and so uptight he was afraid he'd crack if he bent over. Although he tried, it was impossible to concentrate on the work orders in front of him.

He brewed himself at least six cups of coffee from his handy Keurig coffeemaker. Within half an hour, his stomach had a sour feel and his head was buzzing from a caffeine high. His looked through the open doorway to Tara's desk at least every two minutes, although she always got there on the dot of eight.

When she finally arrived, his entire body cramped. What if she said no? What were his choices? What if she said yes? Could he marry a woman his body suddenly craved with desperation and commit to a no-s.e.x future?

She was dressed in her usual jeans and a blouse, clothes he had found decidedly uns.e.xy where she was concerned. But today his mind imagined the satiny skin beneath it, and he wondered what her b.r.e.a.s.t.s would be like free of their restraining bra. If her nipple were large or small and how they would taste. How it would feel to be inside her. Was she tight? Would she be so wet for him it didn't matter?

Jesus! What the h.e.l.l is wrong with me?

He watched her stow her purse in a bottom desk drawer, boot up her computer and call the answering service for messages. Finally, she just sat there with her hands folded, not moving.