JanesPrize (6 page)

The kiss was a force that rocked her where
she stood, wiping out all good intentions, all the mental tasks she had listed.
She was intensely aware of where he touched her and of where she longed for him
to touch her. Every inch of her ached to be stroked by him, yearned to lie
close to him in that wide, soft bed that called to her just two paces away.

He lifted her against him and his heat
burned through her thin shirt and the denim of her jeans, seducing,
overwhelming. The strength of his erection pushed against the mound of her
pussy, begging her to strip naked.

She gave a low murmur deep in her throat.
Her hands seemed to move instinctively with no conscious control from her
brain. She took hold of the hem of her shirt and pulled it up. He released her
long enough to let her tug it over her head and then his hands were on the
fastener of her jeans.

In rapid movements he stripped her
completely and shed the last of his clothing. Without the warmth of his body
clamped to hers, she was left cold and aching for a few brief moments, moisture
pooling between her thighs. She would do anything to feel him press against her
again, have him relieve the pressure that was building low in her abdomen.

He offered his hand in a strangely Old
World gesture and drew her toward the bed. With her hand in his, she lay upon
the bed and in a heartbeat he was over her, straddling her, creating a shock
wave of desire as his cock skimmed her molten flesh.

She reached up, lost in wonder at the feel
of his skin, breathing in his scent, feeling the power in his shoulder muscles.

“I want you,” she said simply, honestly,
meeting his gaze and spread her legs, inviting him. She had never wanted anything
more.

“You have me.” He leaned over her, his eyes
still on hers, moving gentle fingers from her rib cage upward to her arms,
tracing their length, pulling them above her head as his mouth found hers
again.

Her fingers threaded into his hair, pulling
him tighter against her and she writhed beneath him.

His lips slowly left hers and he burrowed
his face against her belly and teased her navel with his tongue.

She loved the feel of his mouth on her
belly. Maybe a ring would be new and exciting, she thought. But before she
could think any more about what she might do later, the pressure of his lips,
his tongue, his mouth grew almost more than she could bear. Then she felt his
hands between her thighs. A gentle touch that made her quiver. A sure touch
that made her let out a cry as she shot into a world of sensations that was
pure agony. She bucked beneath him as the climax rocketed through her, gripping
her with an intensity she had never imagined.

She clung to him, convulsed beneath him. As
climax ripped through her yet again she trembled, helpless, barely aware of
anything around her except the hardness of him inside her, the weight of his
body over hers.

Chapter Six

Pierce ran his hand lightly over the length
of her arm. She lay as tightly curled against him as she’d been in the narrow
cot back at the old house. But this was from choice not necessity. Her hair
teased the nakedness of his chest, her subtle perfume weaving in and around his
senses.

So much of what she said and did seemed
strange to him. During the daylight she was the teacher, he the pupil. But in
bed she was silk in his arms, sweet-smelling and velvety smooth. In bed she was
the learner.

He had known many women back in his real
lifetime and some had been voluptuous, sensual and demanding. But none had
shown that heady mix of carnal lust and sweet vulnerability that he found in
Jane.

She stirred against him and he touched the
top of her head with his lips. She murmured in contentment and he felt an ache
of desire deep inside and a new emotion he had not felt before and which he did
not recognize.

New feelings, new sights, new sounds in
this world of Jane’s. He supposed he could have been brought back by anyone who
might have happened to touch him, not that many people ever saw a ghost, nor if
they did were they inclined to touch one, even by accident. But he had been
touched by sweet, hesitant Plain Jane. He frowned. How had she come to call
herself by that name? She was anything but plain. And when the light of desire
was in her eyes, the flush of love upon her cheeks, she was the most beautiful
creature he had ever seen…

His eyes had grown accustomed to the
dimness and he picked out the furniture which was made of something that looked
like wood but was shiny and hard to the touch. He was used to the warmth of oak
or pine under his fingertips. Jane had said something about plastic…

He had a lot to learn and to get used to in
this bewildering new world where she had brought him. He’d traveled a bit and
knew enough to wait until he’d figured things out to size up a situation. That
would be his strategy now.

He stretched his legs. God, it felt good to
be flesh and blood again. And as for the everlasting reenactment of the murder
scene… He thought he knew how an actor must feel on the hundredth night of the
same play, the same words, the same actions…

Jane had saved him from that and plunged
him into a new adventure. It didn’t look as if there would be any choice in
whether or not he stayed, even if he wanted to leave, so he would learn as fast
as he could. With Jane’s help.

Jane’s fingers were still trembling, the
nerves weak and lax in the lingering aftermath of the volcanic eruption that
had invaded her whole being. After their shower, she managed to fasten her
buttons and zip up her pants in a way that she hoped looked nonchalant and
normal.

Their first stop was at the bank where she
drew out some cash. Leaving the car in the parking lot, they walked to a men’s
clothing store. No one in the town, especially in summer, would dream of
wearing a suit. Already a couple of people had cast a puzzled look at Pierce’s
tweeds and white shirt. She had to buy him some casual pants, lightweight
shirts and more suitable shoes.

Inside the store that carried mainly
outdoor clothing, she stopped by the racks of colored shirts. Pierce ran his
hand along the hangers.

“Will they fit?” he asked doubtfully.

“I don’t see why not. Let me see, I think
you’d take a large.” She ran her eye over his frame, trying not to think of
what was hidden beneath the clothes, and pulled out a blue and gray checked
shirt. She held it against him.

“Can I help you?”

Jane turned to the young man behind her.
“Just wondering about sizes,”

“I know my measurements.” Pierce rattled
off a string of numbers, including inside leg.

The assistant nodded and searched the
racks.

“I’ve never bought anything ready-made
before,” Pierce whispered in her ear.

Before she could say anything more, the
young man turned with a couple of pairs of pants over his arm. “Just bring your
shirts along and I’ll find you a cubicle to try them on.” He turned and they
followed meekly.

Fifteen minutes later Pierce emerged from
the store wearing jeans with the blue and gray shirt Jane had picked out. His
suit, two pairs of chinos and shirts were carefully folded in the bag that swung
at his side.

Outside on the pavement, she let out her
breath. Pierce blended in perfectly with the summer shoppers. She began to
think that maybe there was a chance he could pass muster as a modern man.

Back at the car she turned the key in the
ignition. “Now for the big test,” she said as she waited for an SUV full of
kids to inch past her back bumper.

“Sounds ominous. What is it?”

“Mother.”

“Ah! I seem to remember dealing with the
mamas of a few young ladies.”

“Do you, indeed?”

“The likeness of a she-bear protecting her
cub comes to mind.”

Jane laughed. “I don’t think you’ll find my
mother that intimidating, but she will give you the third degree.”

Pierce raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like the
she-bears I’ve known.”

While she’d been waiting for Pierce to try
on his new clothes Jane had reviewed in her mind all the reasons why she
shouldn’t take him to meet her mother. Then all the reasons why she should.

If she was to see a lot of Pierce, as she
hoped, he would have to meet her mother sooner or later. Jane was not really of
the “jump into the cold water and get it over with” school of thought. Yet here
she was on her way back to her mother’s house with a film that showed the old
mansion was haunted and the ghost himself sitting large and warm and definitely
human right next to her. Oh boy!

“So tell me something about her.”

Jane drew in a deep breath. “Hard to know
where to begin. It isn’t that my mother is difficult. It’s just that I made the
mistake of moving back home after college and she thinks I’ll stay forever.”
She braked for a cyclist barreling through the intersection. Idiot!

“Don’t get me wrong,” she continued. “I
love my mom and we get along okay. It’s just that every so often I feel she
might wash my face with the corner of her handkerchief and straighten the bow
in my hair just as she used to do when I was six.”

She turned into the street where she lived.
“It’s the third house down.” She pulled to the curb and stopped. “I really have
no complaints. Except that I’m never alone. If I have a date and announce it,
it becomes a big deal and I get the cross-examination afterward. If I keep it
secret I felt guilty and mean-spirited.”

She turned to Pierce. So here she was with
a hunk who looked like Orlando Bloom on a good day and who, if he opened his mouth,
was likely to put his foot in it and give away the whole enchilada.

“You want me to keep quiet?” he asked.

“Yes. No! Just let me do most of the
talking. Forgive me.” She touched his arm. “But until we’ve worked out our
story it’s best not to say too much. We’ll go in to let her know I’m okay then
I’ll make an excuse to get away.

“Back to the motel?” He nuzzled her neck.

“Yes.”

“I can stand any number of mamas with that
promise in front of me.”

Jane saw the curtains twitch. Her mother
had already seen the car and pulled back one of the lace drapes to wave
enthusiastically. She disappeared. Any moment now the yellow front door would
open. Sure enough, before Jane could wind up the windows Elaine came barreling
down the two concrete steps and trotted to the car.

“Darling,” she called out from halfway down
the path lined with late-blooming petunias. “Darling, thank heaven you’re safe.
I was so worried.”

By now Jane had eased herself out of the
car and stood with her back to the passenger door, shielding Pierce as much as
she could.

“Are you all right?” Elaine took hold of
her shoulders and peered anxiously into Jane’s face. There were lines around
her mouth and her eyes were red. Had she been crying?

“Of course I’m all right. Why wouldn’t I
be?”

Elaine smoothed back some hair from her
daughter’s face. “There was a fire in New Jersey at a campground. I was worried
about you.”

“But I wasn’t anywhere near New Jersey,
Mom. I was just a few miles away in Maine.”

“I know, I know but it made me realize how
dangerous it was for you to camp out anywhere all alone.”

It was on the tip of Jane’s tongue to say
she wasn’t alone but she bit back the answer. Her mother had a vivid
imagination and could turn any innocent scenario into a major disaster. But
she’d worried because she cared.
Try to dwell on the positive
.

Jane patted her shoulder. “I was quite safe
but it’s nice to be home.” Liar, liar pants on fire!

As she moved her arms, she revealed her
passenger.

“Oh!” Elaine turned to look more closely.
“You have a friend with you.”

Here goes nothing
! Jane took a deep breath. “Mom, I’d like you to meet Pierce. We ran
into each other.”
Well, that was true, since she’d done a touch football
tackle on him and his dead stepmother.
She stepped away from the car and
opened the door. “Pierce, this is my mother, Elaine Chartraine.”

Pierce flowed from the car and sprang to
his feet. He gave a half bow and took her hand. “Mrs. Chartraine,” he said,
gazing into her eyes, still holding her hand. “I am amazed at the likeness
between you and Jane. I know now where she gets her looks.”

Maybe it wasn’t the best line for getting
into someone’s good graces, it sounded a bit trite and callow although Jane
didn’t mind the inference that he thought she looked good. But it just showed
what she knew. Her mother actually blushed and simpered. Yes, she simpered,
there was no other word for it.

“I’m happy to meet you, Pierce. Would you
like to come in for a glass of iced tea?”

“That sounds wonderful.” Pierce offered his
arm and she actually took it. He led her back to the house, turning his head
while still on the path to give Jane a wink and a sly smile.

Pierce, eh? Well it would do for now. Her
mother would certainly wonder where a Newland came from after all these years.

She popped the trunk and grabbed her pack.
There wasn’t much left in the way of food and drink since Pierce had shown such
a healthy appetite. Small wonder. He’d used up lots of energy. At the reminder
of their activities she smiled as she closed the trunk.

She heard their voices in the kitchen as
she came in the front door.

“I trained as an accountant,” she heard
Pierce say. “But I’ve mostly worked for my family, managing the property and
the investments.”

“Oh my that does sound interesting! How do
you come to know my daughter? You can’t be from around here or I would
certainly have met you already.”

Jane dropped her bag and prepared to step
into the conversation. Pierce was likely to blow everything out of the water.

But as she reached the kitchen door Pierce
went on in that friendly yet respectful voice that seemed to be enchanting her
mother. “Of course we would have met. I am only sorry that I never had the
opportunity to know you. I have missed a treat.” Jane remembered what he’d said
about dealing with mamas. Talk about catching more flies with honey than with
vinegar!

“I have thought so much about someone like
Jane and when I met her she was everything I’d imagined.”

Elaine didn’t seem to realize that he
hadn’t really answered her question.

“I guess you met at college. Jane never mentioned
you. It sounds as if you knew each other pretty well.”

“We are very firm friends and l—”

Jane’s heart lurched.
Not lovers!
Please, God, let him not say “lovers”.

“Like so many of the same things.” Yeah
right. The only thing they’d shared so far was wild sex. Jane pushed open the
kitchen door.

“Ah, Jane,” Pierce said as if she were the
guest and he the host. “Come and sit with us.”

Elaine poured some tea from the glass jug
and Jane perched on a stool at the breakfast bar.

As she sipped her tea she watched Pierce
operate his charm on her mother. She was putty in his hands, just as Jane had
been for the last two nights.

Their conversation faded to a murmur as she
thought back. Pierce had said that whoever touches a ghost and brings it back
to life becomes responsible for it. She had swallowed the story at the time but
then she got to thinking about it. There were questions she still had to ask
when she had him alone.

A couple of hours later she drove Pierce
back to his motel. He settled back in the passenger seat and gave a big sigh.
“Great cake!”

“You should know.” He’d taken three pieces
of Elaine’s pound cake, cementing himself even more into her good books.

Jane signaled the left turn at the
intersection. “Pierce,” she began.

“Yes, my love?” He put his hand on her knee
and her head did the emptying trick like pulling a plug from the bathtub drain.

She forced herself to concentrate. “I have
a question.”

“If it’s what I think the answer is yes.
Yes I want you to stay with me. Yes I think you’re wonderful. Yes I’m having a
great time in my new life.”

“Be serious.” She frowned. The mention of
the new life had brought her back to solid earth. “You said that when someone
touches a ghost, the ghost comes back, or whatever you want to call it, and
then starts to live again.”

“That’s right.”

“How do you know that?”

“It doesn’t happen often.” His hand slid up
her thigh. “But I’ve heard about it. Ghosts can get together to talk sometimes,
you know.”

She frowned again. Next he’d be telling her
that there was a “ghost line” for communication.

“Really? Supposing the ghost is a murderer
like your stepmother? Could someone bring her back?”