Free And Cowboy Makes Three (Cowboys To The Rescue 2) by Martha Shields Page A

arrived. Not exactly what she’d expected, but then her whole life had been turned inside out during the past three days.
    She knew what was going to happen during the next few hours. She’d grown up on a ranch, after all. And girlfriends talk—especially in high school. But Alex had told her that the mechanics of sex and the reality were two entirely different things. She’d said lovemaking was a wonderful, often magical experience—if you loved the man making love to you.
    That was the kicker. Claire didn’t love Jake, and he didn’t love her. The sex they would be having was strictly for procreation purposes. Where was the magic in that?
    Jake glanced back at her as the clerk checked the computer, so Claire pasted on the caricature of a smile she’d worn all night. He seemed to be making the best of this bizarre situation. She was determined to do the same.
    As his attention returned to the clerk, Claire let her smile fade. She wondered what he’d think when he discovered he was getting a virgin bride. She knew she was an oddity in this day and age. Her predicament stemmed mostly from lack of opportunity. In high school and college, of course, she refused to have sex because she didn’t want anything to tie her down to some poor cowboy. Later, she refused to become intimate until she fell in love. Since the average number of dates she’d had with the same man was two point four, that hadn’t happened.
    “Are you ready?”
    Jake’s soft question was double-edged. Claire swallowed with difficulty. “I...I...”
    He smiled. “Would you like to get a glass of champagne and toast our marriage? I guess we’ll be the only ones who will. At least tonight.”
    Grateful for the reprieve, Claire nodded.
    Jake gave a generous tip to the bellman who waited patiently with their luggage and instructed him to put the two small bags in their suite. Then he guided Claire through the crowded casino into the bar and ordered a bottle of champagne.
    “Are you tired?” he asked when the waiter left.
    Her wide blue eyes rose to his. “I don’t know. I’m too nervous to tell.”
    He reached across the table for her hand. It felt like ice. “Do you think I’m going to hurt you?”
    “I know you are,” she said softly.
    “Damn it, Claire, I’ve never hurt a woman in my—” His words fell off when her meaning struck him. She couldn’t be. Not at twenty-eight. “Are you telling me what I think you’re telling me?”
    She nodded, looking miserable. “I’m sorry. I know it’s weird. I just...”
    “Just what?” he prodded gently.
    “Just never wanted to, is all. I guess I should’ve told you earlier. If you want to call the whole thing off, I’ll understand.”
    Shaking his head, Jake reached for her other hand. “Don’t be silly. It’s not a fatal disease. It’s something that can be cured quite easily...and soon will be.”
    Jake didn’t think her eyes could get any wider than they were, or her hands any colder, but she proved him wrong.
    “Damn it, Claire, I’m not—”
    The arrival of the waiter silenced him and forced him to release her hands. She drew them under the table and watched the waiter as if he were the priest at her execution. Jake waited impatiently while their drinks were poured. When the waiter left, he lifted his glass to his wife.
    “May our marriage be long and fruitful, and above all, happy.”
    She smiled valiantly, then reached to lift her glass. Her hand shook so much, champagne spilled onto the tablecloth.
    “That’s it. Let’s go.” Jake drew out his wallet and threw down more than enough to cover the drinks.
    “But we haven’t drunk any of our champagne.”
    He stood abruptly and came around to lean over her chair. “Angel, you’re scared to death of what’s going to happen. The only way I can ease your fear is to show you how enjoyable it’s going to be. Now, let’s go... Please.”
    Knowing any further objections would be useless, Claire stood. Jake took her hand