Smooth Irish (Book 2 of the Weldon Series) (3 page)

“
I think we’ll reach
heaven and go beyond, Lady Miller. I’m already dying with
pleasure,” he said and began to move again. Her eyes widened and
her breath caught. There was more? Surely she’d die.

Water pooled at her feet and Nan shivered from
the cool air caressing her heated skin. She hadn’t taken time to
grab a towel when she’d jumped from the tub, and she needed to get
back into the hot water or dry off and dress before she took a
chill, but she couldn’t. Not until she’d written down every darn
word of the Sir Jackson Weldon fantasy still playing in her
mind.

Droplets plunked off her nose and hair,
spilling onto the page, but she continued to write. By bringing the
man to life on the page, maybe she could exorcise him from her
mind. And once she had that battle won, maybe then she could rein
her hormones back into their calm, controlled places.

As she wrote the story, she deliberately gave
Sir Weldon blond hair and green eyes instead of black hair and blue
eyes, a feeble attempt to direct her subconscious mind toward Brad
Swanson. He was the perfect example of the kind of man she needed
in her life.

She finished the last word, snapped
her secret black book closed, and stuck it back under her pillow.
Ever since she was a little girl, she’d written down her thoughts,
her stories, her hopes. It was the secret place where she let the
happily ever after dreams of a little girl who’d known nothing but
heartache live. The one place where the realities of life could
never invade and steal her hopes away.

Shakespeare, her cat, gave a loud meow, protesting
his hunger outside of her bedroom door.

“All right, I’m coming,” she called and went after a
towel. As she passed, she pulled the plug on her bath. She didn’t
think she could take anymore of what the hot silky water had
induced. She’d go feed Shakespeare and keep her mind on what was
important, not what her body clamored to have.

She also ruthlessly ignored any guilt
she had over telling Jackson that she had no interest in where the
attraction between them could lead. She might play it out, over and
over again in her foolish writing, but she’d never let him know
that.

The ringing of the doorbell stopped
her in her tracks. With her fantasy of Jackson fresh in her mind,
every fiber of her foolish body was hoping the devil was on her
doorstep.

Nan’s pulse leapt with anticipation.
Mouth dry, she tiptoed up to the peephole, careful to not make any
noise. Centering her eye on the viewer, she felt her stomach clench
and sink with disappointment.

She opened the door to her neighbor, resigned to
hear over a cup of tea the woman’s account of Shakespeare’s
misdeeds in the neighborhood.

An hour later, Nan came to the dismal
realization that she envied her cat’s sex life. He was neutered,
but that didn’t seem to stop him from wooing every female cat in
the neighborhood. Cats didn’t have to live by a plan or be
disciplined. They just let the good times roll and then landed on
their feet.

To make matters worse, her
disappointment that Jackson had
not
been on her doorstep rankled even more than her cat envy. She
hated to think that there was any truth to the
absence-makes-the-heart-grow-fonder adage
. She’d
already learned that the
out-of-sight-out-of-mind
thing was a
joke.

By the next morning, she’d made a
twenty-item list of what comprised the perfect man in a attempt to
give her left brain the opportunity to show her right brain how
messed up it was for fantasizing over Jackson Weldon, and felt
pretty good about the exercise.

Puttering around in pajamas that had
more frayed edges than an Egyptian mummy, she watered her colorful
zoo of indoor plants that served as her family. She discussed with
them the idea of buying another book on gourmet cooking. She needed
a distraction and some tricky recipes just might be the
ticket.

“Well, Goldie, what do you think?
Shall we try Italian?” The Golden Trumpet didn’t shout back an
answer, so she moved on to her Blue African Lilies. She’d heard
some old wives tale that they brought happiness to the home that
they grew in. Whether it was true or not, Nan had bought herself
some and took extra care to keep them healthy and
thriving.

She enjoyed coaxing miniature roses to
bloom, drinking in the vibrant summer colors of the gloxinia, and
smelling the fresh rosemary and basil from the planter in her
kitchen window. Being surrounded by the lush plants kept memories
of her childhood at bay.

For her mother, flowers had been a
sign that good times were ahead. But nothing she’d planted or
bought had lived. Either she’d had a black thumb or the stresses of
her life had proved too distracting to care for the plants except
intermittently. To Nan, flowers were the symbols of hope her mother
could never seem to hold on to.

The ringing of the phone pulled her
back from the past.

“
You stood me up last
night and the only way you can make amends is to take me to lunch
and then shopping. There has to be something out there to make a
beached whale sexy.”

Nan laughed at Alexi’s complaint. “If
you’re a beached whale then I’d hate to see what the rest of us
women look like eight months pregnant. You’re a glowing Madonna and
you know it.”

“
Tell me a thousand more
times and I might hear you. Seriously, let’s hit the
mall.”

“
Okay. Let me finish
watering my jungle and I’ll be by to get you.”

“
Good.”

Hanging up, Nan misted the rest of her
plants with water, put a little spoonful of fertilizer into her
button fern, and then readied herself. She pulled into the
unpretentious drive of Alexi and Jesse’s beachside bungalow on
Tybee Island less than forty minutes after Alexi’s call.

Alexi must have been sitting on go.
She was out the door before Nan could exit the car. Waddling around
and opening the passenger’s door, her friend practically rolled
into the car.

“
I thank my lucky stars
that you were home and not working on your day off again. I need a
break from chaos.”

Nan grinned. It wasn’t often that
Alexi became frazzled. “What is it? Still having problems with
getting help at the art gallery?” Nan backed out and headed to the
mall.

“
No. Karin has Southern
Lights running smoothly, despite Lucy’s ‘help.’ Lucy has decided
that she is going to be an artist as well as a prima
ballerina.”

Nan laughed, her heart warmed. Lucy, a
little girl who’d spent more of her life in the hospital than out
was very dear to Nan, but even dearer to Alexi. It still amazed Nan
how much Alexi cared for others despite her silver spoon heritage.
If Alexi hadn’t taken Lucy under her wing and Jesse hadn’t helped
find Lucy’s father, Lucy might not be alive today.

“
What has me going nuts is
the orchestral band that I had scheduled to play at the hospital’s
fundraising banquet has cancelled. I’ve been scrambling to find a
substitute all morning and I refuse to give it another thought
until tomorrow. We’re going to go have fun instead. A new lingerie
store called Sinfully Silky has opened, and we’re both going to buy
something decadent.”

A lingerie store? Nan frowned at the
road. To date, her worst extravagance had been to spend a day at a
spa being pampered just before Alexi had almost married Mr. Wrong
and escaped with Jesse in a mad dash from the altar.

“
You know, Lexi. I don’t
think I’ve ever bought fancy lingerie before.” It used to be that
she didn’t have the funds for such luxuries, but now…

“
You’ve had your nose to
the grindstone since the day we met.”

“
Habit I guess,” Nan said,
thinking back. At twenty-two, when most people were starting their
careers, Nan began working her way through nursing school. She’d
made a plan and had stuck to it no matter how tough, graduated by
twenty-six, and in the three years she’d been working at Memorial
Hospital, she’d made excellent strides in establishing a stellar
career.

During that time, everything else like
travel, gourmet cooking classes—instead of learning from books, and
having a family had been put on hold, and it would have to stay on
hold. But she could now afford a few luxuries—like silky lingerie
instead of frayed cotton.

Nan pulled into a parking slot and
looked up to find Alexi studying her seriously.

“
I’m worried about you,”
she said.

“
I’m fine.” Nan gave Lexi
a reassuring smile.

“
When are you going to
give yourself permission to live? Have a little fun in your life.
Are you afraid to let yourself have fun? Are you afraid to let go
and live?”

“
I’m not afraid to live.
I’ve battled my way up from nothing and still have more to achieve.
And I do too have fun,” Nan said, opening the door, hoping Alexi
would abandon the conversation.

“When?” Alexi challenged, grabbing Nan’s hand.

“
Why, uh…I have a
date to the benefit with
Mr.
Perfect
.”

Alexi’s eyes widened.
“Who?”

“
Dr. Brad
Swanson.”

Alexi blinked. “As in the
neurosurgeon?”

“
The one and only. The
man’s a genius. The most dedicated doctor on staff.”

“
Nan, I don’t know the
man, but I know of the man. I can already tell you’re headed for
trouble. His career is going to be a cold bed partner.”

“
Who said anything about
sex?”

“
If he doesn’t spark that
kind of interest at a distance, believe me, there’s big trouble
ahead.”

“
A date to the benefit
does not a wedding make. Besides, anything serious is on hold until
I get my masters.”

“
You know, I can’t help
but think your decision to continue your education is related to
your break-up with Jackson. The timing is too coincidental, so much
so that I almost hope you don’t get the continuing education
scholarship.”

Nan blinked, completely shocked. Alexi
had been her greatest supporter as Nan had battled to get her
degree. Alexi went on before Nan found the words to
respond.

“
And the reason why isn’t
because I don’t want great things for you, but because I do want
great things for you. I don’t think the happiness you want lies in
another degree.”

“
Jackson has nothing to do
with my decision.” For some odd reason, tears pricked Nan’s eyes
and she blinked them quickly away. Alexi had struck something deep
that Nan just didn’t want to acknowledge. She forced a smile.
“Ready for some wild shopping fun? I hear a number of women spell
happiness M A L L.”

Alexi laughed, but the worry didn’t
fade from her eyes. “Nope those women only use the mall as a
substitute for what they really want.”

Nan got the feeling that Alexi wasn’t
just speaking about compulsive shoppers, but about her and her
decision to keep climbing the educational ladder. She was greatly
relieved that Alexi let the subject drop.

With Alexi egging her on, Sinfully
Silky’s lingerie proved to be more temptation than Nan could
resist. She bought several decadent things that included a leopard
print bra and panty set that looked positively animal on her and a
black lace set that was the newest thing in women’s underwear.
Alexi bought a couple of things that looked great despite her
pregnant state, and then bought a barely there satin and lace teddy
to wear when she “got” her figure back. Between them, they left the
store with a mound.

“
I can’t believe we’ve
bought all of this.” Nan crossed her eyes at the packages piled
into the rented baby stroller. As Alexi pointed out, she needed the
practice in pushing a stroller and it beat lugging the bags or
hiking back and forth to the parking garage by a long mall
mile.

“
Believe it,” Alexi said
then came to such a sudden stop that Nan nearly tripped over the
stroller.

“
You weren’t kidding about
the practice bit. Mark sudden stops off your strategy list.” Nan
laughed as she turned to see what had grabbed Alexi
attention.

“
This is it,” Alexi
said.

Nan frowned at the mannequin draped in
sexy sophistication. The burgundy silk and satin ensemble glimmered
with dark sable highlights.

“
Lexi, I love you when I
say this, but you’re going to have to wait until after the baby to
get that.”

“
Let’s go in.” Alexi
wheeled into the store and caught the salesperson’s attention. “We
need that dress,” she pointed to the display, “to fit her.” Alexi
pointed Nan’s way.

Nan gasped. “No. That’s way too, I
don’t know,
wow
, for me.” She
backed up.

Alex grabbed her arm. “It’s not too
anything for you except perfect. Perfectly elegant and perfectly
sexy. Just the sort of dress you need for the fundraising banquet
party. If Brad Swanson is any kind of man you’re going to knock his
surgical booties off.”

Nan looked at the dress and shook her
head again.