JESSIE WOKE UP TO DISCOVER SHE COULDN’T MOVE; PARTLY because muscles she’d forgotten she even had—in some really interesting places—were a little sore, but mostly because Ian had her wrapped up in his arms as if he were afraid she might try to sneak out of bed and go sleep with Toby or something. Jessie slowly reached up to gently lift his arm away so she could indeed sneak out to slip on her bathrobe before he woke up, but stopped breathing altogether when his hand instinctively tightened.
Oh God, he was holding her left breast. It still had a nipple and she could have displayed some impressive cleavage if she hadn’t had the scar on her collarbone, but a bottom piece of what used to be a full C cup had been hastily repaired to save her life at the time, leaving a large dimple that made her boob look like a half-eaten apple.
Please be asleep,
she silently petitioned as she once again tried to lift Ian’s hand, only to stop breathing again when his thumb brushed over her nipple. And then her heart sank when his lips nuzzled her shoulder and she realized he was awake.
“Good morning,” he said, his voice raspy. “Did ye sleep well?”
“Um . . . uh-huh. Ian, could you . . . do you think—oh!” She gasped when he gently pressed her nipple between his fingers. “Ian, please!”
“Please what?” he asked, sliding the flat of his searing hot palm down her belly to cup her mound and pull her bottom into his definitely wide-awake groin. “The word’s
gràdhadair
, Jess; please,
gràdhadair
, take me to that magical place again.” He moved his fingers intimately against her and then patted her mound with a sigh. “Sorry, but I only brought three condoms to bed.”
Jessie captured his hand when it started back toward her breast. “Please, I’m uncomfortable with you touching me . . . there.”
“Where?” he asked, dragging her hand right along with his to her breast. Only instead of cupping it, he guided her to cup herself. “Can you feel what I feel when I touch you
there
? The warm silkiness of your skin and your response when I do this?” he whispered, pressing her fingers together on her nipple. “Do you know why men prefer to keep the lights on when we make love?”
“Yes, to see women’s boobs. Men are visual.”
“Well, we do like things that jiggle,” he said with a soft chuckle, giving her hand over her breast a gentle squeeze. “But what we’re really wanting is to see your reactions. A woman surrendering to pleasure goes straight to a man’s groin; the noises she makes, the flare of her eyes, her face becoming flushed with passion, has more power to turn a man to stone than perky breasts or enticing bottoms or full lips. Women worry about the size and shape and firmness of things, where men are more concerned with whether or not we can get a woman to respond with wild abandon.”
He rolled Jessie onto her back and propped his head on his hand, the light of dawn revealing the crinkled corners of his beautiful eyes. “Will ye let me see what I held all night, so I can show you how much I don’t care if you’re lopsided or uneven?” He took hold of her chin when she slid her gaze away. “I believe it’s rather important that we settle this matter this morning, Jess.”
But when she couldn’t seem to move, much less say anything—lost in the realization that he was right and she was an idiot—his smile faltered and he shrugged. “That is, if you’re still wanting us to be a couple.” He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. “Maybe I disappointed you last night and you’re a bit underwhelmed this morning. Or
over
whelmed, maybe? Was I too demanding a lover, Jess?”
Was he serious?
Or was this just a sneaky ploy to see her naked?
Well, it was a damned good one. Good God, she’d been so
wild with abandon
last night, she’d completely forgotten she even had a body—scarred or otherwise—what with being so busy feeling such unbelievable pleasure. And passion; lots of wild, steamy, please-don’t-stop passion.
He lifted the covers and started to roll out of bed, and Jessie realized she was taking too long to answer. She grabbed his shoulder and pulled him onto his back; bringing the blanket with her, she rolled onto his chest and looked him right in the eye. “I’ll show you my boobs if you’ll agree to let Roger come to Christmas dinner.”
He stilled in surprise. “You’re bartering your
boobs
for that crazy old bastard?”
Jessie tried but failed to stifle her smile, and nodded. “And I’ll also sneak into the resort and go skinning-dipping with you some night in exchange for your explaining how come my walking stick is shrinking.”
He arched a brow. “Why don’t you just ask your good pal Roger?”
Jessie lowered the blanket halfway down her breasts, then pulled it back up the moment his gaze lowered. “And I’ll cook you breakfast like a good old-fashioned lass if you take whatever that is that’s poking my belly and put it someplace . . . else.”
Other than his eyes darkening slightly, he didn’t react. “Or,” he said quietly, “you could show me your boobs in exchange for my promising to love you forever. Would that be a good trade for ye, Jess?”
He actually flinched when she gave a squeal, and he jackknifed into a sitting position with a grunt of alarm when she scrambled up his body to kiss him. “Oh, Ian!” she cried, wrapping her arms around him so tightly that she nearly knocked herself out bumping their heads together.
“Jessie.”
“I love you so much! I thought . . . I’d just die if . . . you didn’t love me back,” she continued between kisses to his mouth and forehead and cheeks and then his mouth again. “I think I started falling in love with you the moment you promised not to let me stumble on the dance floor. And then when—” The bedroom door started rattling something fierce, Toby’s frantic growls only slightly louder than his clawing at the door. “Oh, Toby!” she cried, jumping off the bed and rushing to the door and opening it. “It’s okay, Tobes, we—oooph!”
Ian swept Jessie back up onto the mattress when Toby charged in and made a lunge for the bed—specifically at Ian as he tucked her behind him and reared away just in the nick of time.
“Tobias Pringle,” Jessie snapped, pointing over Ian’s shoulder at him. “Get a grip, you big lug! We’re
playing
. Eeeww, what’s all that crud?” she asked, pulling the blanket up to her nose.
Ian snorted. “That would be grease and bone marrow,” he said, leaning over to point toward the living room. “Go on, get out of here, big man.” He blew out a sigh. “And I’ll be along in a few minutes to give you another bath.”
Jessie tried to grab Ian’s shoulder but missed as he got out of bed. “Wait. I thought I’m supposed to show you my boobs in exchange for your loving me forever.”
He stood facing her, utterly gloriously naked, his hair hanging loose to his shoulders and his eyes bright with amusement. “The deal’s been struck, lass; I saw every beautiful inch of ye when you jumped up to open the door.
She dropped her gaze to his groin, gave a sigh, then fell back onto the pillow and pulled the blanket up over her head. “What do I get for loving you forever?” she muttered from under the blanket.
She felt the bed dip just before the blanket was pulled down and Jessie found herself staring into deep green eyes—not a crinkled corner in sight. “You get me,” he said roughly. “And all that that entails.” He placed his fingers over her lips when she tried to speak. “And tonight when I take you to the summit of TarStone, you may bring your staff and I’ll see what I can do to cure what’s ailing it.” He straightened and walked to the door but stopped. “And Jess? Ye need to know that we’ll either be leaving the mountain bound together for life, or you’ll be coming down alone.”
“What? Why? W-where are you going?”
He gave a humorless chuckle, gesturing toward the window. “I’ll most likely run off with de Keage. Don’t come to the resort today, as many of the campers have already left; just stay home and relax and maybe take a nap, as I’m afraid you’re in for a long night tonight.” His smile finally reached his eyes. “Just try not to burn down the house when ye cook my supper,” he said over his shoulder as he left.
Jessie pulled the blankets back up over her head again, listening to Ian coaxing and then dragging Toby into the bathroom. She heard the door close and the shower come on, and smiled when she heard the tussle taking place in the tub and realized they were showering together when Toby’s snarling protests turned to gargled coughs.
But then her smile disappeared. Ian was taking her up the mountain tonight and curing what ailed her walking stick? Couldn’t he just
tell
her why the damn thing was losing its burls and getting skinnier? And what in hell had he meant when he said they either left the mountain bound together for life or she left alone? Was that supposed to be some sort of marriage proposal?
Jessie lowered the blanket with a gasp. Was Ian planning a romantic proposal up at the summit house tonight, but thought he better give her a little warning so she wouldn’t be caught with . . . with her pants down, she thought with a smile?
But then she frowned. The man knew she’d been rushed into marriage once already, and he also knew how wonderfully that had worked out for her. So what was the all-fire hurry, anyway?
But he
had
said he loved her, and unlike with Eric, she actually believed him. And she absolutely, positively, irrevocably loved him—atavistic tendencies and all. And being engaged was very traditional, so they could set the wedding date for a year or eighteen months from now and get to know each other better during that time. After all, that’s what engagements were for.
Thank God that persistent brochure had refused to be thrown away, even if she couldn’t explain
how
it had kept reappearing. How else would she have realized her dream of making love again—three times in one night!
Oh yeah, she’d definitely gotten her miracle and then some.
Jessie pulled the blanket back over her head when she heard the bathroom door open, and Toby came scrambling into the bedroom giving little muttered growls, obviously trying to tattle on Ian to her. She rolled to the edge of the mattress to give him a commiserating pat, only to laugh at the sight of him wearing a fluffy pink towel.
Hearing the water running in the sink, Jessie leaned down to slide out her stool and patted a spot beside her. “Come on, Tobes,” she whispered, holding back the blankets. “You can hide in here with me; I’ll protect you from that big meany.”
“I heard that,” Ian called from the bathroom.
“Yeah, so, what are you going to do about it?” she called back, grabbing the towel as Toby scrambled up onto the bed. She held him away and set it on the sheet for him to lie on, then quickly covered them both up with the blanket.
Ian walked into the bedroom actually wearing a towel around his waist—also pink—and stopped to eye the lump beside her. “He’s getting my side of the bed wet.”
“I guess it sucks to be you.” Jessie looked at the nightstand clock on her
former
side of the bed. “Aren’t you late for work?”
He arched a brow. “Which begs the question, how come you’re not out there making my morning coffee and packing my lunch and kissing me good-bye at the door?”
Jessie sighed. “I guess I haven’t gotten the hang of being an old-fashioned lass.”
He walked to the closet and got some clothes, and Jessie pulled the blanket up over her head again when she saw the towel drop and he started to dress. “Hey,” she said. “Don’t you have to go to Megan and her sisters’ birthday party tonight? I still can’t believe all seven of them were born on the same day.”
A finger curled over the top of the blanket and lowered it to her chin. “We were both invited, but going up the mountain is more important.” He tapped the tip of her exposed nose and walked over to grab his shirt off the chair with a chuckle. “Don’t worry; we won’t even be missed. Gù Brath on the winter solstice makes Camp Come-As-You-Are seem like church in comparison.”
Jessie knew Gù Brath was the name of Greylen and Grace MacKeage’s home, which sat back in the woods from the ski resort at the base of TarStone. She’d only seen the outside and had really been looking forward to seeing the inside, because the place was actually a castle. It was built of black stone someone had told her came from the mountain, it barely had any windows except in the addition on the back, and there was even a bridge leading up to the front doors over a gushing stream just like a moat.
“You’re either going to have to burn Toby’s old bed or take it outside and drown it in hot water before you put it in the washer,” Ian said, stopping beside her as Jessie lowered the blanket. He shook his head. “Next time ye want to give him a treat, try a large rawhide he can gnaw on. There’s enough grease covering his bed and the floor and the hearth to fry doughnuts.”
Jessie snuggled into the pillow and closed her eyes on a sigh. “I think I’ll take my nap first,” she murmured, waving him away. “Could you be a dear and start the coffeepot on your way out? And could you—”
Ian leaned over and kissed her quite soundly, his hand sliding under the blanket to the juncture of her thighs, and Jessie’s gasp of surprise turned into a moan. “Is there anything else I can do for you before I leave?” he whispered against her lips, even as his thumb caressed her intimately.
“I’m . . . ah . . . oh, that’s good,” she groaned, lifting her hips into his touch.
A growl came from the lump next to her as it started moving, and Ian pulled away with a laugh. “Sorry,
gràineag
, but there doesn’t seem to be room in your bed for me at the moment.” He headed out to the hall. “See if you both can’t stay out of trouble today.”
Jessie waited until she heard the front door close, then pushed back the covers and threw herself on Toby. “Oh, Tobias,” she whispered, giving his damp head a kiss. “Miracles
must
be real, because we just got one.”
Jessie had every intention of going back to sleep, but after ten minutes of sighing and smiling and fidgeting so much that Toby finally jumped down to lie on the floor, she decided she was too excited to go back to sleep. So she got up and spent the morning cleaning the mess Toby had made—promising herself to never, ever buy the big lug another bone—as she continued to sigh and smile while cleaning up the mess she’d made cooking dinner last night.