The Texas Wildcatter's Baby. Cathy Gillen Thacker

reclining on the king-size bed, hands clasped behind his head. His pleated white shirt was half unbuttoned. His cufflinks were off, the sleeves rolled up past his muscular forearms. He’d taken off his shoes, too.

      Once again, his eyes caressed her. His gaze lingered on the cleavage spilling out of her fitted bodice, then drifted languidly over her waist, hips and thighs “You do look a mite skinnier now, though,” he said after his long, slow perusal.

      Wishing there was another option, Ginger moved toward him reluctantly. “It’s because I took my petticoat off.”

      “Ah.” Another pause and furrow of his dark brow. “What’s a petticoat?”

      “The froufrou thing that goes under my skirt to make it stand out. It’s sort of like a half-slip for formal attire.” She perched beside him on the bed, aware he hadn’t moved a muscle. He looked turned on and frustrated.

      She swallowed around the sudden dryness of her throat. “And you knew that, didn’t you?”

      One corner of his mouth lifted in a sensual smile. “I might not have. Only having brothers and all that.”

      Ginger recollected what she knew about the state’s most famously successful lady wildcatter. “But your mom...”

      “Was a debutante in Dallas before she met and married my dad.”

      “And still goes to a party or two?” Ginger prompted.

      Rand nodded proudly. “She does. Although she prefers jeans and boots and an oil rig to any black tie affair.”

      Ginger wiggled her toes, which were still aching from the hours spent in beautiful, impractical high heels. “I can second that.”

      Rand remained where he was. “So. What’s your problem?” He had all the predatory watchfulness of a man in hot pursuit.

      “I can’t seem to get out of this dress,” Ginger admitted reluctantly.

      He appeared to mull that over. “You could sleep in it.”

      True, but...the fitted bodice was so snug. Ginger wrinkled her nose. “It wouldn’t be very comfortable.”

      His grin turned wicked. “Ready to get naked, then?”

      Heavens, no! “I just want you to undo the back of my dress. Please.”

      Kindness mixed with desire. He laid a hand across his heart. “Well of course I’ll do my husbandly duty.”

      Not about to inquire what else that might entail, Ginger turned and reluctantly offered him her back.

      Her pulse pounded as he shifted to the edge of the mattress and sat behind her. His bent knee just barely brushed the curve of her buttock. The sensation was exquisitely erotic and sensual. Shivering, Ginger shifted away from him.

      He said nothing. Did nothing. She shot him an aggravated look over her shoulder. “Well?”

      He lifted his broad shoulders in an affable shrug. “I was waiting on you to come back to me again.”

      They were close enough—too close—as it was. They did not need to have actual physical contact to accomplish this. She sucked in a tremulous breath. “Is everything between us going to be this difficult?”

      At her irritable demand, a laugh escaped him. “I don’t know. Is it?”

      Groaning, she flounced back another inch. “Just undress me!”

      His chuckle was warm and sexy, as if she had just given him the opening he needed. Not about to be seduced into thinking this was anything but a temporary business arrangement, Ginger clarified hotly, “You know what I mean.”

      “I do.” His hands brushed the skin between her shoulder blades. He struggled with the triple row of close-set hooks at the top of her zipper. One by one, they eventually gave way.

      Maddeningly, the zipper did not follow.

      “Now what?” Ginger asked, finding the sudden stillness as excruciatingly erotic as his tender touch. Desire blossomed deep inside her.

      Rand slid a hand between the fabric and her skin, his touch kindling her overwrought senses even more. “I just want to make sure...”

      That she was spontaneously combusting from the inside out? Well, she was! “Rand, come on. Just do it!”

      “Well, I sure hope no one can overhear us.” Rand’s voice took on his best needling aw-shucks tone. “Who knows what people might be thinking, us being in the bridal suite and all?”

      Ginger groaned again at his clowning around and buried her face in her hands. Rand was doing what he always did when things got too intense between them. He used the combination of their mutual chemistry and his good humor to get her to relax. The trouble was, she didn’t want to relax. Didn’t want to let her guard down with him for one red-hot second.

      Just like that, the zipper on her wedding gown came down, easy as you please. Cool air assaulted her spine.

      Behind her, Rand sucked in his breath. And went very still.

      Silk organza bodice pressed tightly against her breasts, Ginger pivoted to face him. “Now what’s the holdup—?” she started to say. Then stopped at the expression on his face. She knew that look. All too well.

      “I was right,” he said. His blue eyes darkened as if he were imagining what the front view of her lace-and-satin bustier, garter belt and tiny panties would be. “Those are some mighty fancy underthings you’ve got on.”

      And some very elemental feelings they were both having, Ginger noted. “I think we should stop here,” she said softly. Before they felt even more really and truly married than they did at this moment. Rand nodded, as if agreeing that things were getting way too complicated, way too fast.

      “Probably should,” he stated gruffly. “But...how about just one kiss?” Pulling her to him, he dropped his head low. His lips hovered just above hers, tempting...seducing. “It is our wedding night, after all.”