Fortune's Texas Surprise, page 15
“So that’s how he acquired his wealth? Or did he inherit the money from his father?”
Stephanie practically cringed at the question. “The subject of Dad’s father isn’t something we talk about in the family. It’s a pretty sore subject. You see, Dad’s father, Julius Fortune, would never acknowledge David as his son. So, no, Dad’s money came from years of hard work and determination.”
Acton was clearly confused. “He wouldn’t acknowledge his own son? Damn, that’s tough.”
Stephanie nodded. “Well, you see, Dad was the result of one of Julius’s many affairs. To acknowledge him would’ve been the same as owning up to his sins.”
Rubbing a thoughtful hand against his jaw, he looked over at Elizabeth and Ryan stretched out on the floor, both entranced by the lost dog trotting across the television screen. Then his gaze slipped over to Linus, who was sound asleep on the chair cushion. Was he thinking like Stephanie? That neither parent seemed to want the adorable baby? The idea was heartbreaking.
“I can’t imagine my own father not wanting me or what that would do to a man’s psyche,” he said.
“It’s a painful wound that Dad has tried to bury away and not talk about, but I figure it’s colored the way he’s raised us eight children.”
His lips took on a wry slant. “Mom mentioned that she’d read about the Fortunes in Austin having family troubles. Something about their house burning and a son being injured. Are those your relatives?”
Grimacing, she nodded. “Yes. Although we don’t really associate with them. Jerome Fortune, who goes by the name of Gerald Robinson, is my father’s half-brother. From what I can gather, he’s been just as much of a tomcat as their father Julius. Trust me, Acton, my father and my family aren’t like the Austin Fortunes. I mean, we’re far from perfect, but we certainly have not had the kind of drama that’s gone on with the Fortune Robinsons. Is that why your mother is worried about you? She thinks all of us Fortunes are dysfunctional?”
Smiling now, Acton reached over and squeezed her hand. “She doesn’t know you, Stephanie. Not yet. But when she does, she’s going to love you.”
Was he saying he intended to introduce her to his parents? She wasn’t about to ask him. Not now. But the thought was enough to put a spark of hope in her heart.
* * *
It was nearing five o’clock that evening, when Gina arrived to pick up the children. As soon as Acton’s sister entered the house, she promptly gave Stephanie a big hug, then went straight to where Linus was lying on the cushion.
“I was so hoping he would be here with you,” Gina exclaimed as she bent over the baby. “Acton has told me how cute he is and he wasn’t exaggerating. Look at that hair. And his eyes are so bright. You must be totally in love with him.”
“I’m crazy in love with Linus.” Along with your brother. The added thought came out of nowhere, shocking Stephanie with its connotations. Had she already fallen in love with Acton? Oh, Lord, if that was the case, then it was far too late to be worrying whether he was that one good man she’d been hoping to come into her life. Her fate was already sealed.
Gina glanced over her shoulder at Stephanie. “May I hold him?” she asked.
“Of course,” Stephanie told her. “Linus loves being held.”
Gina picked up the baby and, gently rocking him in her arms, began to meander slowly around the room.
After watching his sister for a moment, Acton gave Stephanie a conspiring wink. “Better be careful, sis,” he warned Gina. “Holding Linus might put you in the mood to have another baby.”
Laughing coyly, Gina said, “Who knows, maybe it will. Jack would definitely like to be a daddy again.”
Picking up on the conversation, Elizabeth walked over and tugged on the leg of her mother’s jeans. “Are we gonna take Linus home with us, Mommy?”
“No, honey. Linus belongs with Stephanie.”
“But couldn’t we keep him for a little while, then give him back?” the girl asked hopefully.
“It doesn’t work that way, Lizzie,” Gina told her daughter. “You wouldn’t want me to give you away for a little while, would you?”
Tilting her head to one side, Elizabeth pondered her mother’s question. “Well, if you gave me to Uncle Acton it would be okay. He lets us do fun stuff that you don’t let us do.”
Gina shot her brother a dry look. “Thanks, Acton, for making me look like a meanie.”
Grinning, Acton held up his hands in an innocent gesture. “I’m just letting them be kids.”
“Yeah, well, just wait ’til you have some of your own. It’s going to be my chance for payback.”
He didn’t have a reply for that and Stephanie wondered what he was thinking. That it would be years and years before a child called him Daddy? If so, that meant she and Linus could hardly hope for him to make them a family of three.
You’re putting the cart before the horse, Stephanie. You have no idea how long Linus will be your little baby, much less if Acton will ever hear wedding bells.
Stephanie tried to shake off the pessimistic voice in her head while across the room, Gina replaced Linus on the chair cushion and informed Elizabeth and Ryan it was time for them to go.
Once the children had collected their backpacks, Acton rose from the couch. “I’ll walk out with you and the kids,” he said to Gina.
Before they went out the door, Elizabeth and Ryan came over to the couch and gave Stephanie goodbye hugs.
“Will you come to our house sometime?” Ryan asked. “We want you to see Roscoe and Rosie.”
“Yeah!” Elizabeth seconded. “The cats are happy ’cause Mommy lets them sleep on the foot of our beds. Only because their hair doesn’t come out.”
“She means as long as Roscoe and Rosie don’t shed they get to sleep on the bed,” Ryan drolly explained.
The girl wrinkled her nose at her brother. “That’s just what I said, smarty!”
Groaning, Gina put a hand on each child’s shoulder and ushered them toward the door. “Okay, kids, let’s go before you give Stephanie a headache.”
Stephanie waved a goodbye to the three of them and Acton followed his relatives out the door.
Less than two minutes later, she heard Gina’s car drive away.
By the time Acton returned from outside, her heart was beating with anticipation. This would be the first time they’d been alone together since the night she’d helped him with Grizabella. Had he forgotten the kisses they’d shared? How close they’d come to making love? All day today he hadn’t so much as hinted at what had occurred between them and Stephanie was beginning to wonder if he’d decided forgetting would be best for both of them.
“Well, they’re on their way,” Acton said. “The kids wanted me to tell you they had a good time.”
Stephanie’s nerves were suddenly so overwrought that she jumped to her feet. “I’m, uh, glad. I really enjoyed them, too.”
Picking up on her anxiousness, he asked, “What’s wrong? You look like Grizabella when she first laid eyes on Seymour.”
Her short laugh had a silly, breathless sound to it. “Nothing is wrong. I thought I’d go clean up your kitchen.”
“I’ve already thrown the paper cups and plates in the garbage, so there’s nothing to clean.” A coy smile was on his face as he walked over and sandwiched one of her hands between the two of his. “And now that it’s quiet and we’re alone, I have something to show you.”
Puzzled, she asked, “To show me? Where is this something? Should I bring Linus?”
After switching off the television, he walked over and collected Linus. “I’ll bring Linus,” he said. “You follow me.”
They left the living room, but rather than head to the kitchen, he made an abrupt left, toward his bedroom. Throughout the day she’d noticed the door had remained closed and she’d assumed it was to keep the children from prowling though his personal belongings. Now she wondered if he was hiding something.
“Have you trapped a monster in here and it’s going to jump out at us?” she teased. “I know it can’t be Seymour and Grizabella. They’re cuddled up together on a rug in the living room.”
“Hmm. What a nasty imagination you have,” he replied.
“I grew up with four brothers. I know what kind of tricks you guys like to play on us unsuspecting females.”
Chuckling, he opened the door and gestured for her to precede him into the room.
The shades behind the white Priscilla curtains were closed, blocking out most of the late-afternoon sunlight to leave dusky shadows around the room.
Acton walked over to the nightstand and switched on a small lamp. A circle of soft light spread over the room and Stephanie’s attention was immediately drawn to the dresser, where a blue printed vase held a bouquet of pink rosebuds. The sight of the flowers was surprising enough, but then she spotted the cradle near the foot of the bed and couldn’t contain her loud gasp.
“Oh, my! A cradle! A real wooden cradle!” She rushed over to the small baby bed and ran her fingers over the smooth grains of the maple wood. Years of use had given it a soft patina and Stephanie could only wonder how many babies had once slept in it, and how many mothers had rocked their loved ones. “Where did you get this? It’s obviously an antique, so I hate to think what you paid for it!”
Amazed, Stephanie looked over at him for an explanation and he came to stand next to her.
“I could tell you that I paid a small fortune for it, just to impress you,” he said. “But that would be lying. I didn’t pay a cent. I brought it down from the attic. It’s the cradle my mother used for all of us kids. My grandfather made it years ago, before his children were born.”
Overwhelmed, her hand crept up to cover her open mouth. “And you want Linus to use it?”
“That’s why I got it out of storage. While you’re here with me, Linus needs a bed of his own,” he answered, then asked, “Would you like for me to put him in it? Or would you rather do it?”
He’d been a busy man, Stephanie thought, as she noticed the inside of the cradle was all ready to use with a thick mattress made up neatly with pale yellow linens. The fact that Acton had gone to so much trouble, not only for her, but also for her baby, was enough to bring tears to her eyes.
“Oh, you put him in it, Acton, please,” she said huskily.
He placed Linus in the bed and after tucking the cover around him, gently pushed the rocker into motion.
Linus gave them a drooling grin and waved his arms. His reaction caused both Stephanie and Acton to laugh.
“He likes it,” Acton said in a hushed voice. “Thank goodness. It was going to be pretty disappointing if the thing had made him cry.”
Still overwhelmed, Stephanie looked up to Acton to see he was smiling down at Linus. “I can’t believe you went to all this trouble, Acton. And why didn’t you show it to me earlier?”
Shaking his head, he said, “It isn’t trouble to do something for someone you care about. And I wanted to share this with you and only you.”
She walked over to the dresser and touched a finger to one of the rosebuds. “I haven’t noticed fresh flowers in your house before. Are these for Linus, too?”
Two long strides put him at her side. “No. I had someone else in mind when I got those.” He rested his hands on the tops of her shoulders and began to gently knead them. “Someone with golden red hair and the prettiest blue eyes I’ve ever looked into.”
Turning toward him, she slipped her arms around his waist and tilted her head back in order to look up at him.
“Acton, you...” She paused and tried to swallow the ball of emotion clogging her throat. “You didn’t have to do these things to make me want you more.”
His lips took on a wry twist as the back of his fingers grazed her cheek. “Is that what you think I’m doing? Trying to win your favors?”
Her cheeks suddenly flamed with heat. “No. I, uh, I guess it’s hard for me to believe that you want to give to me instead of take.”
Groaning, he framed her face with both hands, then bent his head and placed a soft kiss on her lips. “You better believe it, Stephanie. Because I do want to give to you. Not riches—because I’m not a rich man. But I can give you me—if that’s enough.”
“Oh, Acton. You’re all I want. Truly.”
Tightening her hold on his waist, she pressed against him and he immediately brought his lips back down to hers.
Chapter Eleven
Acton’s kiss was tender, evoking an emotion in Stephanie that filled her heart to overflowing. Her mouth and her hands clung to him, while everything inside her begged her to never let him go.
He continued to kiss her in that same gentle manner until the warm contact ignited a bright flame. Before Stephanie realized it, their mouths were fused together in a kiss so hot she was sure that every inch of her body was on fire.
When the need for oxygen finally tore them apart, they were both breathing hard, staring at each other with raw hunger.
“Acton, don’t turn away from me. Not now,” she whispered.
His hands came up to cradle her face. “I have no intentions of turning away. As long as I know this is what you want.”
“Let me show how much,” she whispered, her hands already reaching for the snaps on his Western shirt.
With very little effort, the fasteners popped apart and she pushed aside the wash-worn denim. His muscled chest was wide and warm, and so inviting that she couldn’t stop herself from leaning forward and placing her lips on the smooth flesh.
He tasted salty and oh, so masculine, and as she moved her open mouth against his skin, she pulled the erotic scent of him deep into her nostrils.
“Stephanie.” Her name came out on a whisper as his fingers thrust into her hair and slid against her scalp until they were loosely cradling the back of her head. “This is... You’re torturing me.”
Making slow circles across his chest, she came to one flat brown nipple and licked at it with her tongue. The contact pulled an anguished groan from his throat and she smiled against him.
“Do you want me to stop?” she asked, her voice thick and husky.
“No! I mean...yes! If you keep doing this, it’s all going to end...before it ever begins,” he said tightly.
Tilting her head back, she looked up to see his features were strained, as though he was fighting to stay in control. The idea that she was arousing him to such heights amazed her, and filled her with the confidence to be the woman she’d always wanted to be. The kind of woman who could take a man’s love and boldly give her all back to him.
“Then let me undress you.” Even as she murmured the suggestion, she was pushing the shirt off his shoulders and down his arms until the sleeves stuck at his wrists. She fumbled with the cuffs, until the snaps came loose and she was able to pull the shirt over his hands and toss it to the floor.
“It’s my turn now,” he said, reaching for the hem of her magenta-colored sweater.
She held up her arms and he pulled the garment over her head, then tossed it backward in the direction of where his shirt had landed. With the glow of the lamp lighting her skin, he made a slow survey of the image she made in a lacy black bra and black skinny jeans.
Stephanie had always kept herself slim and fit, but she could hardly be called anything close to curvy or voluptuous. Now as Acton’s gaze swept over her, she wondered what was going on in his head. Was she a disappointment to him?
Finally, he whispered, “You look incredible.”
Stunned that such a word had come out of his mouth, her head swung back and forth. “I’m glad there’s not much light in here. Otherwise, you’d see I’m far from incredible. But I won’t mind at all if you say it again.”
His hands settled lightly on her shoulders, their warmth promising pleasures to come. “Oh, Stephanie, no matter what’s happened in your past, you’re wrong to doubt yourself.”
The tenderness in his voice tightened her throat and filled her chest with a heavy ache of longing. “I want to be beautiful—for you, Acton.”
“Honey, if you were any more beautiful I couldn’t stand it,” he murmured as his fingers slipped beneath the straps of her bra and slowly eased them off her shoulders. Slowly, the lace fell away from her breasts and he bent his head to brush his lips across one nipple and then the other.
The sensation was so light and teasing it had her aching for more. But just as she snared a hold on the back of his neck to anchor his head to her breasts, he suddenly stepped back and reached for the zipper on her jeans.
His eyes glittering, he said, “You have too many clothes on.”
Her head swimming, all she could think about was having his hands on her flesh, his mouth on hers, and their bodies connected in the most basic way.
“So do you,” she told him, her voice little more than a breathy whisper. “And I think we should do something about it. Don’t you?”
His response was to ease her backward until her upper body was lying across the bed and her legs were dangling against the mattress. Then his hands were on her jeans, easing them down her legs until the fabric bunched around her ankle boots.
He rapidly dealt with the footwear, then slipped the jeans and a pair of black panties over her feet. Once the garments had fallen to the floor, he turned his attention to removing the last of his clothing.
From her place on the bed, Stephanie watched through half-closed eyes as he tugged off his cowboy boots, then tossed his jeans and a pair of navy blue boxers to the floor behind him.
She’d expected him to look lean and fit, but she’d not been prepared for the wide expanse of his shoulders, the narrowness of his waist, or the hard, rigid indentions of his abdomen. His legs were long and corded with heavy muscle, as were his arms, and she didn’t have to wonder if he was a physically powerful man. It was all there for her to see. Including his bold erection.
