Love in Another Town (5 page)

Jake said, ‘A lot of people who want to sell their weekend homes up here are beginning to realize the prices of the eighties are finished. Anyway, who finally bought it? Who's your client?'

‘A married couple. Anne and Philip Lowden. They own an advertising agency on Madison Avenue. They live in Manhattan during the week, and wanted a retreat in the country. Anne fell in love with this place, especially the grounds. She came to me through a
client in New Preston, whom I've done work for. Anne told me she liked my understated style. “No
nouveau riche
folderol for me,” she said when we met. She didn't even bother to interview any other designers, just hired me to do it all. Anne wants me to modernize the farmhouse and the guest cottage.'

‘The farmhouse certainly needs it,' Jake remarked, and turned to look at Maggie. ‘Okay, where shall we start?'

‘Let's go into the kitchen first. We can put our things there: it's the only place with any furniture in it anyway.'

Maggie led the way down a short corridor and into the kitchen. This was a medium-sized room with two adjoining pantries, a couple of small windows, and a beamed ceiling. It overlooked a vegetable garden, an old stone well and, to the right, a flower garden.

‘A decent-sized room,' Jake commented as they surveyed the kitchen together. ‘But it's too dark, not much natural light coming in; you'll have to supplement it with really good artificial lighting.'

‘I know,' Maggie murmured. ‘And that's the problem with the whole house, Jake. It's so … so gloomy. Personally, I find it quite depressing. I like airiness, pale colours, a sense of space. My aim is to get rid of the sombre feeling without having to put in too many additional windows. I don't want to kill the period look of the place. After all, it's one of the reasons my clients bought it. For its rustic charm and antiquity.'

‘I understand.' Jake's eyes scanned the kitchen once more. He looked up at the ceiling and then walked
around the room a few times, a thoughtful expression settling on his face.

Maggie placed her briefcase and handbag on the kitchen table, took out a notebook and made a few notations.

Jake said, after a moment, ‘I don't think this room presents too many problems. We could use several large-sized ceiling fixtures, such as old lanterns, something like that, plus wall sconces, in order to introduce proper artificial light. And you might want to think about putting in a new kitchen door, one that has panes of glass in the upper portion.'

‘Yes, I had thought of that … it would let in additional natural daylight.'

‘What about high hats? Would you or the clients object to a few in the ceiling?'

‘No, since they're fairly unobtrusive. But can you do it?'

‘I think so. I'll have to cut into the ceiling first, to investigate what's going on up there. But it shouldn't present any real problems. If I get the job, that is.'

Maggie stared at him, frowning slightly. ‘Jake, surely you know you're going to get the job.'

‘You might not like my estimate, it might not fit into your budget.'

‘We'll make it fit into my budget, won't we, Jake?'

He gave her a long look and was silent for a few seconds. Then he said, ‘I guess so. Have you found a contractor yet?'

‘I'm thinking of hiring Ralph Sloane. He's done a bit of work for me, and I've seen some of his really huge jobs in the last few days. I like the way he operates, I like his style. Do you know him?'

‘Yes, I've worked with him before. He's a good guy. Are you going to hire an architect? Or don't you plan on making structural changes?'

‘The answer is yes to both of those questions, Jake. I met with Mark Payne the other day -'

‘He's the best!' Jake cut in, sounding enthusiastic.

‘That's what I thought. I've seen a lot of his work now, and he seems to be an expert when it comes to Colonial architecture. He'd like the job, I know that, and I was impressed with his ideas.' There was a small pause and then she finished, ‘I think I'm putting together a good team, don't you?'

He glanced at her and nodded, gave her half a smile and then headed out of the kitchen. ‘Shall we go through the rest of the house?'

‘Yes, let's look at the rooms on this floor first.'

Three hours later they came out of the farmhouse together, blinking in the sunlight. Slowly they walked back to the pick-up truck.

Jake leaned against the hood, and said, ‘It's a huge job, Maggie, bigger than I initially thought. The whole place needs rewiring. It obviously hasn't been touched in years. And there's so much else to do. We haven't even thought about the exterior lighting for the grounds.'

‘I know.' She threw him a worried glance. ‘You're not saying you don't want to tackle it, are you?'

‘No. I want the job. I need it. As you know, I'm building a new business. Anyway, I like a challenge. And I want to work with you, Maggie.' He paused and stared into her face. Suddenly making a decision, taking control of the situation, he said in a firm voice,
‘Let's go. I'll take you to lunch. I know a good place for a hamburger or a salad, whichever you prefer.' 

‘Good idea,' she responded. ‘I'm starving.'

 

W
HEN JAKE KNOCKED
on Maggie's kitchen door and there was no answer, he opened it and went inside.

She was nowhere in sight, so he wandered through the kitchen and into the small back hall, heading for her office. But he stopped at once, stood perfectly still, listening.

In the few weeks he had known Maggie Sorrell he had never seen her ruffled. Nor had he ever heard her raise her voice. But she was doing so now, obviously speaking on the phone in her office.

‘He did it on purpose!' she exclaimed. ‘Nothing you say will convince me otherwise. And he did it to hurt me. He simply doesn't want me there to celebrate with you.'

There was a sudden silence.

Jake guessed she was now listening to whoever it was on the other end of the line. Wanting to be polite, to make sure she was aware of his presence, he walked across the hall, knocked on the open door, poked his head around it and raised his hand in greeting.

Maggie stared at him so blankly he realized at once how preoccupied she was. But then she nodded quickly, acknowledging him.

He half smiled in return and ducked out. Swinging around, he headed towards the small sitting room opposite. After placing the envelope he was carrying on the coffee table, he walked over to the window and stood looking out of it at her garden, lost for a moment in his thoughts of her.

It was apparent to him that Maggie was not only angry but upset as well, and this disturbed him. He had become very protective of her.

Jake glanced at his watch. They had agreed to meet at six o'clock tonight, and as usual he was far too early. It seemed to him that he was continually ahead of himself whenever they had an appointment. He just couldn't help it. He wanted to be with her all the time; he hated it when they finished their work and he had to leave her.

They had known each other only five weeks yet it seemed so much longer to him. He had discovered that they were compatible, liked the same things. She loved music as much as he did and she was impressed with his knowledge of it. He enjoyed talking to her because she was so well informed; she was a news buff and, as he was, a great fan of CNN.

There were other things that he liked about her. She had a good sense of humour, laughed a lot, and she
was a truly feminine woman. For all her ability and talent, strength and independence she was not hard. Just the opposite. He forever felt the urge to look after her.

Since his first visit to the farmhouse, two weeks ago now, Jake had begun to relax with her and, at the same time, he had acquired more self-confidence. In fact, ever since that Friday morning, when he had taken her for a hamburger in Kent, he had considered himself to be in command of the situation.

Lately she had seemed to defer to him, and frequently she used him as a sounding board about the work to be done at the farmhouse. It had struck him only the other day, quite forcibly, that she depended on him, and he was pleased about this. They had become good friends; he wished it could be more.

Tonight he had come over to discuss the detailed estimate for the electrical work at the farmhouse. He had given her a ballpark figure a week ago; then he had had to spend endless hours over at the farm, studying every aspect of the property inside and out. Now he was anxious to talk to her, get her approval of the figures.

From the doorway, Maggie said, ‘Hello, Jake.'

He spun around, looked across at her. She was very pale. When she remained standing in the doorway, looking hesitant, he hurried across the room.

‘Are you all right?' he asked quietly, drawing to a standstill in front of her, his black eyebrows puckering together in a frown.

‘I'll be fine in a minute,' Maggie answered. ‘I'm afraid I became angry – ' She broke off, biting her lip.

‘Anything I can do to help?'

‘No, thanks anyway.' Her voice was trembling and she paused again. Suddenly tears welled in her blue eyes and she looked at him helplessly.

‘Maggie, what's wrong?' He could not bear to see the pain settling on her face. Concerned, he took a step towards her.

And as he did she moved towards him.

He reached for her, drew her to him, enfolded her in his arms.

‘Maggie, Maggie, what is it? Please tell me what's bothering you?'

‘I don't want to talk about it … I'll be all right in a … minute … really I will …'

But she wept on his shoulder, clinging to him fiercely.

He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head, murmured gently, ‘I'm here, I'll look after you. Please don't cry. I'm here for you.'

Turning suddenly, she twisted her face to stare up into his. Their eyes locked. He felt her trembling in his arms, and he tightened his grip on her.

Maggie's lips parted slightly, almost expectantly, and before he could stop himself he bent down and kissed her fully on the mouth.

She kissed him back, pressing her body against his. Because she was tall, almost as tall as he was, their bodies fitted together.

We're a perfect fit, Jake thought, his heart racing.

After a few moments of intense kissing, they stopped, drew apart, and stared at each other breathlessly, wonderingly.

Jake said softly, ‘I've been wanting to do that for a long time.'

‘I've been wanting you to do it,' Maggie whispered.

Emboldened, still staring hard at her, he went on, ‘I've wanted to make love to you since that first night we met.'

‘And I …'

‘Oh Maggie, Maggie.' 

‘Jake.'

He drew her towards the sofa; they sank down onto it. Pushing her gently against the cushions, he leaned over her, looking deeply into her eyes. Bending closer, he kissed her eyelids, her nose, her face and lips, moved his mouth down into the hollow of her neck, then he began to unbutton her blouse. His hand slipped inside, cupped her breast; somehow he managed to release it from her bra.

When his mouth found her nipple, Maggie sighed deeply and moaned. And then she gave herself up to her feelings entirely, her hurt and pain of a short while ago forgotten for the moment.

She had thought of Jake constantly, had envisioned making love to him so often, she could scarcely believe it was happening now.

His mouth was soft if insistent, his touch gentle but firm, and when he stopped with suddenness she held herself perfectly still, wondering why he had stopped. She wanted him to continue.

A moment later his face was resting against her hair, and he said softly, ‘Please, Maggie, let's go upstairs.'

‘Yes,' she answered and he straightened, pulled her off the sofa; together they went up the wide staircase, their arms wrapped around each other.

Maggie pushed open her bedroom door, led him inside, and walked to the centre of the room.

Jake closed the door behind them and followed her.

The light outside was changing. The sky had turned a warm golden colour and it was flooding the room with a soft radiance.

He took hold of her shoulders and stared into her face. ‘Be sure of this, Maggie.'

‘I am, Jake.'

‘Once this happens there's no going back. Not for me.'

‘Nor me.'

He brought her into his arms.

They stood there for a long time, kissing, touching, familiarizing themselves with each other. They pulled apart, gazed at each other, started kissing again, their ardour growing.

Eventually, Jake began to undress her, taking off her blouse, unfastening her bra, then her skirt. Everything fell on the floor around her feet.

She stepped over the heap of clothes and stood gazing up at him intently, her emotions written all over her face: She wanted him.

Jake returned her gaze, recognized the need in her eyes and nodded slightly. He pulled his sweater over his head; Maggie stepped closer to him, began to unbutton his shirt, then took it off. He struggled out of his boots and jeans, and she took off her stockings and they came together totally naked.

They held each other tightly. Jake ran his strong hands over her shoulders, across her back and down onto her buttocks; she smoothed her hands over his shoulders, pushed them up into his thick hair.

Finally he led her over to the bed. After he had
pressed her down onto it, he bent forward, kissed her, then said, ‘I'll only be a minute.'

Maggie lay waiting for him, her heart beating rapidly. It was years and years since she had felt like this, had wanted a man so much. She wished he would hurry, come back. She could hardly wait.

Jake walked across the room towards the bed.

She thought he looked magnificent.

He stood next to the bed, staring down at her. He noticed that her eyes had turned the darkest of blues, so dark they were almost purple, the dark bluish-purple of pansies. They were full of urgent desire for him, he recognized that once more and he felt heat rising in him, his excitement growing as he stood looking at her.

How beautiful she was in her nakedness, in the soft golden radiance of the fading light, he thought. He had not realized what a lovely body she had, covered as it always was with her bulky sweaters and heavy jackets and long, flowing skirts.

But she was very slim, he noted, with curving hips, and long, long legs. She had perfect breasts, softly rounded, and her skin was smooth and pale.

As Maggie returned his long, contemplative gaze she thought that a man's body could be beautiful. His was. Jake was tall and slim; he had a broad chest and wide shoulders above slender hips and long legs. He was splendid to look at. She could hardly tear her eyes away.

Jake joined her on the bed at last.

He took her in his arms and held her close to him, kissing her hair and her neck, smoothing his hands over her marvellous breasts. He began to kiss her mouth.

Maggie kissed him back ardently. Their kisses grew hot, harder and hotter still, more passionate than before.

Jake propped himself up on one elbow, looked into her face and traced his finger along the line of her mouth. ‘I want you so much,' he murmured. ‘But I don't want us to hurry. I want to prolong this, savour it.' He bent into her. ‘You really excite me, Maggie; if we're not careful it'll be over all too quickly.'

She half smiled, said nothing.

He went on quietly, ‘I've wanted this for so long, ached to be with you.'

‘I felt the same.' She paused, eyed him carefully. ‘But I thought you weren't interested in me.'

‘I thought the same … of you.'

Reaching up, she touched his face lightly with her fingertips. ‘We're a couple of fools.' She ran a finger around his mouth, thinking how sensual it was.

He took hold of her hand, put her finger in his mouth and began sucking it, curling his tongue around it. Maggie felt the heat surging through her, settling in her loins. He was exciting her … there was something so erotic about the way he was sucking. She felt herself growing moist.

After a moment he stopped and said, in a voice thickened by emotion, ‘I love you, Maggie. I want you to hear this now. Not in the heat of it all, when I might well say it. I want you to know it's true, not just the sex talking.'

Startled, she simply nodded.

Putting her arms around his neck, she drew his face down to hers. She kissed him deeply, as he did her. Their mouths locked together, their tongues entwining.
Maggie felt as though he were sucking the breath out of her, and she grew more excited than ever. Desire flooded her, blinded her to everything except him.

Abruptly Jake moved his head, began to kiss her breasts, cupping them together in both of his hands, moving his mouth from one nipple to the other, brushing his lips over them until they stood erect in the centre of their dark, plum-coloured aureoles.

Moving on, thrilling to her, tremendously aroused now, Jake trailed his mouth down over her stomach, and his hands followed, smoothing and stroking.

Jake lifted his head, looked at her face. Her eyes were closed. ‘Maggie,' he said softly.

‘Yes?'

‘Am I pleasing you? Can I love you this way?' 

‘Oh yes.'

He began to make love to her tenderly, wanting to give her pleasure. He touched the core of her lightly at first, but as his supple fingers began to know her they became more insistent. He explored and massaged the flower of her womanhood, did so expertly, tantalizingly, enjoying touching her in this most intimate way, feeling her coming alive under his hands.

Maggie lay very still, hardly breathing. Her longing for him was rampant; her body ached to be joined to his. She felt herself opening up to him more and more as his mouth followed where his fingers had been. He lavished her with kisses and his tongue was a darting arrow hitting its mark. She began to pulse under his kisses.

And then suddenly she was spiralling up into ecstasy as wave after wave of pleasure rolled over her. She convulsed, her body arching slightly as he brought
her to a climax; and she cried out his name harshly.

Jake moved his body onto hers, parting her legs wider with his own. He had an enormous erection but she was ready for him, and he slid right into her, thrusting deeply.

Maggie was panting, moving against him, matching his rhythm, floating with him somewhere she had never been before.

Higher and higher she rose as he moved deeper and deeper into her, and once again the waves of ecstasy started, began to engulf her.

Jake knew he was touching the core of her with the core of himself. He was strong and hard inside her, riding the crest of her second climax with her. This was the way it was meant to be. The way it should always be and never had been for him. Until her.

She was cresting higher and higher, flying into the unknown, saying his name over and over.

He let himself go, crested with her, gave himself up to her, flowed with her and into her. And he shouted out, ‘Oh Maggie! Oh my love!'

The colours of the sky had changed again, the bright golden radiance laced through with crimson, magenta and violet. It was that magic hour, twilight, just before darkness falls, when everything looks soft and rosy and at peace.