Authors: Nancy Gideon
Since there was nothing to see through the windows, Susanna focused her attention on the large hands guiding the wheel. Strong hands, browned by the sun, roughened by physical labor. She remembered the feel of them on her body, their impatience as they tore at her clothes, their slow, seductive magic as they stirred a fire of passion inside her, a heat she’d never felt before. Or since. She squirmed restlessly on the leather upholstery, drawing his quick glance. He frowned slightly.
“You okay?”
The rough purr of his voice was like the drag of his palms, unbearably sensual.
“Fine.” She managed a smile.
His brows lowered slightly but he let it go, turning his attention back to the dangerously slick streets.
Susanna pressed her thighs together, dangerously damp herself.
The docks lay under a heavy mist. Lights glowed like eerie eyes at regular intervals but failed to illuminate through that wet gloom. When Jacques turned off the ignition and the headlights blinked out, the darkness in the vehicle was complete. His hand was on the door handle when Susanna’s quiet voice stopped him.
“Jacques?”
He turned toward her, his eyes adjusting to the blackness so he could see her anxious expression. Before he could ask again what was wrong, she reached for him, her hands cupping the back of his head to draw him toward her. In his surprise, he was easily manipulated. Her smooth cheek brushed his. Her soft lips pressed to his skin.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Jacques didn’t move, not even to take a breath. When she didn’t sit back, he murmured, “You’re welcome,” thinking that would be the end of it.
She started to ease back but as soon as their gazes met, she hesitated. Her eyes fluttered and that luscious mouth touched his, shyly at first, then with a light stroke of her tongue.
He fought not to groan as his system slammed into overdrive.
With a Herculean effort, he pulled back very slowly and smiled. “You are very welcome.” He read her confusion and embarrassment and, to calm both, stroked his knuckles lightly beneath her chin and said, “We’d better get inside before all hell breaks loose.” And he didn’t mean the weather.
He got out of the car, manner casual so she wouldn’t think he was running from an unwanted overture.
Keep it cool
, he told himself as he circled behind the vehicle.
Keep it friendly. Don’t get excited
. Hard advice to follow after scenting her increased arousal.
He opened the door for her, offering his hand to help her out. She took it with the slightest hesitation and released him immediately to reach for her bag.
Crisis averted.
He started to place his hand on her back, then stopped himself. No sense in fanning those flames again. Instead, he started for the metal steps, aware of her close behind him. He unlocked the door and stepped back so she could precede him inside. By the time he’d switched on the light, she’d disappeared down the hall into the bedroom.
Relieved, yet as uncomfortably revved as his mighty eight-cylinder with its pedal to the floor, Jacques shook the rain from his shirt, stirring up the trace of her fragrance that lingered there. Pretty danged sure he wasn’t going to get any sleep, he went through the motions anyway. There was nothing to clear off the sofa, a pleasant first. In fact, his whole place seemed fresh and
inviting. Nice to come home to, even though it wasn’t much of a home.
He was getting a light cotton blanket out of the hall linen cupboard when Susanna came out of the bedroom. They did a side-to-side dance until he finally flattened against one wall so she could slide by him and shut herself into the bathroom. He took advantage of her absence to retrieve a clean T-shirt and his gym shorts from his thrift store dresser and left a second shirt on the bed for her, hoping she hadn’t let Nica talk her into sexy lingerie to go along with her provocative new wardrobe. There was only so much a male animal could take.
He heard a flush and the rush of water in the sink, but before he could scoot to safety, Susanna exited the bathroom, trapping them in that treacherously narrow hall once again. This time, she moved to one side but he quickly discovered there wasn’t quite enough room to walk past her. When he turned sideways to edge through, her arm straightened to block him.
Oh, hell.
Her body swayed into him, the barricading arm curling about his waist, the other draping across his shoulders. She fit beneath his chin with a custom-built ease. Cautiously, he placed his hands in the safest place he could think of, just beneath her shoulder blades, and he held her, not tight, but with a relaxed compliance.
There was nothing relaxed about him below the belt. Couldn’t do anything to hide it from her the
way she was pressed over him like a fitted sheet. She didn’t seem alarmed so he didn’t make a big deal out of it.
And then she took a shaky breath, her face lifting so that the light from the bedroom glittered in her eyes and made her parted lips shine with an inviting wetness.
This was that point on the path where a wise man would have slammed things into a smoking reverse.
Damn me to hell.
Jacques lowered to take that irresistible offering, slowly, thoroughly, until her fingers clenched in his T-shirt and her legs trembled against his.
Gently, gently
, his saner self cautioned. Such a delicate creature wasn’t used to aggressive male desire, raised as she was amongst the passionless, thin-blooded Chosen. He reined back so as not to frighten her.
And that’s when she lunged up on her toes, thrusting her tongue so deeply into his mouth she must have speared his brain, because all his reactions short-circuited. He pulled back so abruptly his head cracked against the wall, and stared at her, eyes wide, his breath panting.
Susanna went flat-footed in dismay. “I’m sorry,” she stammered, arms dropping to her sides, face flushing hot. “I thought—” She swallowed awkwardly. “Don’t you want me?”
Her lips quivered, then firmed into an angry line at his sudden, booming laugh. Before she could mistake his response, he gathered her to his chest in a close
embrace that tightened when she tried to squirm away. The effort of restraint rumbled in his voice.
“That’s a question that shouldn’t be asked or answered tonight if we’re both as smart as we say we are.”
Susanna burrowed her face against his chest until the shame heating her cheeks began to cool. The way his hands rubbed over her body from shoulders to backside in a rather lusty grope bolstered her self-confidence.
Finally, he held her away, his gaze a smoldering contradiction to his claim of, “I’ll take the couch.”
Susanna stared at the ceiling, painfully awake in the big empty bed. She was cold and restless and unhappy with the stalemated situation. With her situation in general. So she reached for the phone to cool the dangerous direction of her thoughts.
“It’s late. Is there a problem?”
The comfort she’d hoped to find was stripped away by Damien’s terse tone.
“No, no problem. Just checking in. How’s Pearl?”
He avoided her question. “Checking in? The way you would with a supervisor? I am more than your employer, Susanna, or have you forgotten that?”
Anger simmered beneath his civility. His sharp question got her wondering: Were they? Had they ever been more?
“No, I haven’t forgotten. You don’t need to remind me.”
“Apparently, I do.” Her quiet words did little to soothe his mood, for he continued fiercely. “Your career, your future, your
child
are all in my hands and this is how you thank me? With secrets, with defiance? Where are you, Susanna? I want you here where you belong.”
Was he threatening her? Threatening Pearl? Surprise became alarm. Then, for the first time, fear. She’d left her daughter in this man’s care. Was she safe?
Her silence changed Damien’s manner to one of soothing care. Perhaps a little too late.
“Forgive me, my dear. I’m fatigued. I’ve had to put in an enormous amount of time and energy to cover for your unexplained absence.”
Instead of grateful, she felt increasingly unsettled. He was trying to manipulate her already guilty conscience. “You didn’t have to do that, Damien.”
“Of course I did. I couldn’t have your colleagues thinking—” He broke off, then quickly added, “I didn’t want them to be concerned.”
He didn’t want them to think he wasn’t in control of the situation. In control of her.
And then his testy mood made perfect sense. Because, for the first time, he wasn’t.
“I’m sorry to have become such a burden. That wasn’t my intention. Good night, Damien. Tell Pearl I called.”
“Susanna—”
She cut the connection before he could continue, her nerves frayed, temper still high, and thoughts running
in anxious circles. Should she give in and return? Could he be trusted with her daughter in his current frame of mind? This was Damien! Kind, giving, encouraging . . . And furious with her. Because she wouldn’t obey him. Couldn’t obey him, not this time.
A creak and a muttering groan sounded from the living room followed by several loud thumps and a weary sigh.
Her strained mood fractured.
“How am I ever going to get any rest with you out there thrashing around?” she shouted.
Silence.
The rasp of overtaxed springs and a gruff, “I’ll sleep in the car.”
She sighed, frustration and an underlying fright making her draw the very danger she was trying to avoid closer. “Jacques, come here.”
Silence. Then the sound of his reluctant approach. Her intentions nearly faltered at the sight of him in the doorway looking appealingly rumpled and grouchy. He squinted at her suspiciously as she lifted the covers and patted the mattress.
“I’m tired and you’re too big for that couch,” she explained like a rational adult while trying not to ogle his bare legs. “Get in, get comfortable, and for heaven’s sake, get some sleep.”
He hesitated for a brief instant, then fatigue won out.
The mattress dipped, gravity urging her toward him. She braced to keep her distance as he bounced
and fidgeted and finally settled in, tugging the covers up to his chin.
They lay like guests on Dovion’s table, side by side, breathing shallowly.
After uncomfortable minutes crept by, Jacques finally snorted disgustedly and extended his arm so that it slid beneath her pillow. With a crook of his elbow, she was rolled up against him.
“Better?” he whispered.
She smiled and reluctantly snuggled in, rewarded by a much needed infusion of heat. “Ummm, much. Thank you.” Without giving it a thought, she hooked her arm about his middle and let her knee nudge over the top of his, clinging subconsciously to that solid strength he’d always represented. Threats and fears fell away.
He went very still, then she felt his lips move against her hair.
“You’re very welcome.”
Her skin burned against his, silk and fire. Clothing dropped away, giving him access to those delicate curves and taunting hollows. He’d dreamed of this, of her, but the reality . . . so much sweeter. He hesitated, not sure where to begin, until her hand covered his, leading it to her soft breast. An exquisite handful. Her innocent moan of discovery checked the hungry passion growling through him.
Slow. Gentle. Be worthy of her trust.
She trembled beneath his exploring touch, but didn’t resist it. In fact, the timid parting of her thighs gave him more encouragement than he’d dared hope for.
Opening the way to where both of them knew they shouldn’t go, yet couldn’t quite resist . . .
Her palm lay warm and relaxed upon his neck. Slowly, her thumb, then her index finger, rubbed along the rough line of his jaw, over the part of his lips, lingering until his tongue was teased out to taste her. He sucked on that curious digit, hearing her gasp as he bit down gently.
Her petite figure fit against his side, warm, inviting, pressing tighter into him as he followed the curve her hip with his hand. The dip of her slender waist rising in a tempting flare. The graceful rounding of one buttock. So perfect, so tempting. So . . .
Real.
Not a dream!
Jacques froze, his eyes flashing open to fix upon the soft gleam of Susanna’s gaze. Flickering shut again as she stretched up to kiss him with a smoldering intensity. He went with it, letting her coax him into releasing the desire he felt for her. Slow. Fierce. Powerful.
He didn’t question. He refused to reason. She wanted him and, in the darkness, in the embrace of his bed, that was enough.
He rolled up on one hip to take her in his arms. She gave a tiny squeak as his insistent hard-on jabbed her in the ribs. All at once, that struck him as both funny and unbearably arousing.
“Sorry,” he whispered over her lips. “Can’t do anything about that.”
He drew a quick breath as clever fingers brushed over the bulging front of his gym shorts.
“I can.”
Her husky reply almost made him come on the spot.
The friction from her hand conspired with the silky shift of material until his muscles tensed and strained, until an unstoppable pressure built and throbbed for release.
And at that tenuous instant, she kissed him again, her tongue wetting his mouth before she gave his bottom lip a sudden, unexpectedly sharp nip.
Jacques lost himself in a great shuddering wave.
By the time his senses returned, Susanna lay relaxed beside him, her head on his shoulder, her thoughtful gaze upon his face.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
Her contentment confused him almost as much as her words. The unexpected intimacy she’d initiated was over. He wasn’t complaining, just wondering. He smiled, perplexed. “For what?” It wasn’t like she’d given him the chance to follow through.
“For letting me be here with you.”
He’d heard the phone conversation. Though he had questions, he didn’t speak them, instead saying softly as his knuckle brushed her cheek, “Again, you’re very welcome.”
Ten