Little White Lies (14 page)

Read Little White Lies Online

Authors: Kimberley Reeves

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Romantic Suspense, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense

 

Miranda clung to his shoulders in a mindless daze.  Jack’s labored breath whispered through her hair and his heart was hammering so hard in his chest she could feel the vibrations of it against her breasts.  She felt…ravished, and rightly so because he had taken her with all the grace of a primal beast whose sole purpose in life was to mate.  It had been wildly exciting and Miranda’s body tingled with the delicious wickedness of it. 

 

She squirmed in his arms, letting out a small whimper of protest when his grasp loosened and her legs slid slowly down his thighs until her feet finally touched the ground.  Her knees promptly buckled beneath her and she probably would have crumbled to the floor if Jack hadn’t caught her around the waist and pulled her into his embrace.  Her head fell back, and she met his tender gaze with flushed cheeks and a soft smile. 

 

“Wow,” was all she could think to say. 

 

Jack’s husky laughter raked over her in a sensual caress and a second wave of desire began to swirl deep in her abdomen.

 

“I missed you today,” he said.

 

“So I gathered.  That was quite a greeting, Jack.  It’s going to be pretty rough to top that one when I come home tomorrow.”

 

He let her go just long enough to yank his jeans up then scooped her up in his arms and headed upstairs where a brand new bed was waiting to be broken in.  He didn’t want to think about how rotten tomorrow would be; he’d had enough pain and suffering as it was.  He concentrated instead on the rapturous look on Miranda’s face and how small and feminine she felt in his arms.  Not surprisingly, the clip had fallen from her hair and the friction of moving up and down against the wooden door had left it in wild disarray.  She was stunning, a wanton pagan Goddess, and she was his for the taking.

 

His step quickened when he reached the landing.  “Do you have any idea how miserable I was because of you today?”

 

Miranda buried her nose in his neck, inhaling the heady masculine scent of his skin.  “How could you possibly be miserable because of me when I wasn’t even with you?”

 

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”  He deposited her on the bed and reached for the buttons of her blouse.  “I didn’t get anything done at work because all I could think of was doing this.” 

 

He pushed the blouse down over her shoulders and quickly divested Miranda of her bra.  She stood up obediently and let him strip off the rest of her clothes, her eyes following his movements as he removed his shoes and shirt and finally his boxers and jeans.  He was beautiful, she thought, when he stood before her, gloriously naked.  Sleek, perfectly contoured muscles rippled as he advanced on her and gently pushed her back onto the bed.

 

“Again?” she whispered with a sigh as he lowered himself over her and kneed her thighs apart.

 

Jack kissed the corner of her mouth, easing himself into her welcoming warmth.  “I hope you had a good lunch, sweetheart, because it’s going to be a very, very long time before you get dinner.” 

 

                        ***

 

Lying in the darkness, snugly enfolded in his arms, Miranda smiled with the realization that she hadn’t once thought of Holt since she’d gotten home.  But the smile faded into oblivion almost immediately when she recalled that she certainly hadn’t been thinking about Jack when she’d kissed Holt and nearly surrendered herself to him.  How disastrous would her night have been if she had allowed that to happen? 

 

There was no way she could have pretended that everything was normal. She would have been compelled to confess her sins, although there was no way in hell she ever would have told him who she’d been unfaithful with.  Both men were so innately possessive of the things they viewed as theirs, it would have caused a rift between the brothers that might never be repaired.  No matter what happened, she could never allow herself to split a family like that, nor could she bear the thought of hurting Jack with such a harsh betrayal.

 

And yet, she couldn’t seem to bury the memory of Holt’s searing kisses or the shameless way her body had responded to his touch.  How had this happened?  Two weeks ago she’d been a lonely woman who had nothing more to look forward to than the solitude of her existence in the expansive rooms on her floor of the mansion.  Now she was deeply involved with a devastatingly handsome man and being pursued by his twin brother, whom she just happened to be in love with. 

 

Oh, this was just awful.  How could she be in love with two men at the same time?  But she was.  In her heart, Miranda knew she loved them both and would be crushed if she lost either one of them.  The only solution was to ward off Holt’s advances and somehow make him believe she wasn’t interested in whatever he was offering.  It was the right thing to do.  So why did her heart feel as if it was weighted down with rocks?

 

She wished she had someone to talk to, but she could hardly go to Missy or Brianne.  Missy would be horrified. In spite of her grandmother’s long standing relationship with Jeeves, she would never have looked at another man while her husband was alive.  As for Bri, she was so flighty she would probably think it was exciting, or worse, volunteer to coax one of them away from Miranda. 

 

Of course, her sister would magnanimously allow Miranda to choose which one she wanted to keep for herself, and therein lay the rub because she didn’t know which one she loved more.  True, she’d loved Holt longer, but it didn’t take Jack one night to figure out he cared about her and wanted a future with her.  She felt loved and wanted and desired with Jack.  Lord, what was she going to do?

 

She slept poorly that night and woke in the morning feeling run down in both mind and body.  It didn’t help that she also had cramps, which meant her monthly cycle was about to start, although it did lend a certain degree of relief since she and Jack had been careless more than once.  Including last night, she thought ruefully, as she dragged herself out of bed.  It was foolish and irresponsible to let themselves get so carried away they forgot all about using protection, and it certainly wouldn’t help matters to end up pregnant at this juncture. 

 

Still feeling sluggish even after a hot shower, Miranda shuffled down to the kitchen to find Jack.  He was an early riser and usually had the coffee made and was reading the morning paper by the time she rolled out of bed.  Why anyone would want to be up at the crack of dawn was beyond her, but at least he knew better than to try to carry on an intelligent conversation with her before she’d had her morning coffee. 

 

He set the paper down and got up to pour her a cup, then placed it in front of her before stealing a quick kiss.  If she hadn’t been feeling so grumpy, she might have found it amusing when he kept peeking over the top of the paper, obviously scrutinizing her mood and trying to gauge when it was safe to talk. 

 

On any other morning, she would have been fighting the urge to giggle or at the very least offered an encouraging smile, but somehow she couldn’t even muster enough pity for the poor man to do that.  After downing her coffee and going back for a second cup without having said a word, the silence began to wear on him.  He shifted restlessly in his seat, folded and unfolded the paper several times then finally tossed it on the table.  Reaching out tentatively, he covered her hand with his and gave it a light squeeze. 

 

“Are you feeling okay?  You look a little tired.”

 

“I didn’t sleep well and I’m cramping,” she said curtly, then instantly regretted it. 

 

He looked so wounded, Miranda couldn’t help feeling sorry for him.  After all, it was hardly his fault she was being torn up by her own inability to make a decision and stick with it. Rising from the table she went to Jack and settled herself in his lap, feeling immensely better the second his strong arms wrapped around her.  She tilted her head back and it was all the inducement he needed to take advantage of her parted lips.  Warmth spread through her body as his kisses slowly vanquished the turbulent emotions churning inside and restored a modicum of peace to her tormented heart.

 

“Better?” he whispered against her lips

 

“Much.”

 

“I can guess why you’re having cramps. Is there a reason for the restless night?”

 

She desperately wanted to tell him the truth, but how could she when the look he was giving her was so tender and caring it made her want to cry?  He was such a good man, and he deserved so much more than what she was giving him.  She had to get Holt out of her system, she just had to.  It was the only way she would ever be able to make it work with Jack, and right now she wanted that more than anything in the world.

 

“I guess after a week of sleeping in and staying up late it’s a little rough getting back into the routine of work.”  When Jack didn’t look entirely convinced, she slipped her arms around his neck and conjured up the sweetest smile she could.  “Maybe I should try going to bed earlier, what do you think?”

 

“I think you’re trying to distract me,” he said reproachfully.

 

“Maybe just a little.”

 

“As much as I’d like to unravel your deep, dark secrets, we’re both going to be late for work if we don’t get going.”

 

“I know,” she sighed.  “I wish we didn’t have to go in at all today.”

 

“Why Miranda Carrington, aren’t you the little workaholic who skips lunches and stays late just to make sure everything is running like clockwork?”

 

“Thanks for reminding me what a conscientious employee I am,” she said dryly as she climbed off his lap.  She picked up their cups and brought them to the sink to wash.  “I forgot to tell you what a wonderful job you did putting this place together.   I thought for sure we would be arranging furniture for days, but there’s really not a lot to do except haul over some of my clothes and a few personal things.” 

 

She set the cups on the drain board then let out a startled squeak when she turned to find Jack standing right behind her.  She recognized the solemn expression he wore because she’d seen it in her own eyes just that morning when she caught her reflection in the mirror.  It made her wonder if he was hiding a few secrets too and if they weighed as heavily on his mind as hers did. 

 

“Is it happening too fast for you, Miranda?  Is that what’s bothering you?”

 

She wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging herself to him.  “I’ll admit at first it seemed like we were rushing things, but then I thought of how it was before you came into my life.  You make me happy, Jack, truly happy.”

 

He clenched his jaws against the dull pain in his chest.  How happy was she going to be when
his
deep, dark secrets were out in the open?  Maybe he did make her happy on some level, but he didn’t have her whole heart anymore than she had his. As much as it killed him to think about it, he had to put an end to this before it was too late. 

 

                         ***

 

Holt watched with amusement as Miranda leaned down to pick her pad up from the floor.  It was the third time since she’d sat down to take dictation that she’d sent it flying off her lap. Although he hadn’t said anything to her, the color in her cheeks told him she was thoroughly embarrassed.  Good, he was glad his presence made her nervous because it meant what happened between them on Monday morning wasn’t just a kiss that had gotten out of hand. 

 

He wanted to laugh at the prim way she was holding herself and the painstaking way she’d tried to make herself look as unappealing as possible. She’d gone back to pulling her hair into a tight knot and wearing one of those business suits that covered her feminine curves.  Holt wondered how ruffled her feathers would be to learn it only turned him on even more because now he was visualizing pulling the clip out and letting her hair tumble down over her shoulders.  He pictured her eyes growing dark with desire when he slipped her jacket off and slowly unbuttoned her blouse to reveal full, tantalizing breasts just waiting to be touched and suckled.  Holt shifted in his chair, wincing at the uncomfortable strain against his zipper, and forced himself to finish dictating the letter.

 

It had been a long week, one filled with sly touches and accidental brushes of their bodies anytime she got close enough for him to make it happen.  She’d been careful to avoid getting into any tight places with him, skirting away as if any physical contact at all frightened her.  It was smart of her to be scared because he found this game of cat and mouse exhilarating and it only made him want her more. 

 

Each sharp intake of breath when his hand touched hers sent blood rushing to his head, and when she blushed as she was doing now, the blood dashed in the opposite direction and pooled in his loins.  It had been difficult not to pull her into his arms and kiss her until her resistance was so low he could do anything he wanted without so much as a whimper of protest.  But doing so would have spoiled his plans for the business trip and he didn’t want to give her any excuses for not going with him.

 

He had to give her credit, she was holding her own against him, and he admired her determination to remain faithful to one man in spite of how relentless he’d been in his subtle assaults.  It made his blood boil just thinking about how primed she would be when he made his final move.  No doubt, his docile little Miranda would turn into the wildcat he knew she could be between the sheets. And once she finally submitted to her own desires, he would make her admit that she was his and always had been.

 

Miranda looked up from her pad expectantly after nearly a three minute pause.  It wasn’t like Holt to lose his train of thought, but he’d been doing it a lot lately. It put her on edge because she had the unsettling feeling it had something to do with her.  At least he hadn’t tried to kiss her again, although he’d made quite a sport of touching her.  Of course, he never made any kind of physical contact that could be construed as inappropriate, but even the light brush of his hand against hers unnerved Miranda.  She felt guilty for allowing him to affect her this way, and she felt even worse because the guilt didn’t run nearly as deep as it should.

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