Sweet Seduction (19 page)

“You need to wear skirts more.”

“Why's that?” she panted.

“I like being able to feel you whenever I need to.” His hand slid to the inside of her thigh, playing with the band of her panties.

“Mmm.” She wriggled into his hand. “I like you being able to feel me whenever you need to.”

Dipping his fingers beneath the band, he stroked her damp flesh, and a thousand-volt shock ripped through her.

“What do you say we christen this new place of yours?”

“Oh, yes.” She hopped up onto the counter and wrapped her arms and bare legs around him, pressing herself into him. Taking his face in her hands, she whispered, “Christen away.”

“Where? Right here?”

“For starters.” She nibbled his ear, loving the tickle of his hair on the tip of her nose. “The kitchen is the most important room in the house, after all,” she whispered.

He gasped in mock shock. “That's unsanitary, Ms. Sinclair.” His voice was low and sexy as he ran both hands up between her legs, moving her damp panties aside, sliding two fingers into her.

She drew in a breath. “You wouldn't want to cheat a girl out of her fantasy, would you?” Holy, it was hard to speak while Jamie was doing what he was doing.

And she loved what he was doing.

“Sex on the counter is your fantasy?” he asked, twisting three fingers inside her. And—oh!—what was he doing now? Pulsing his fingers against her inner walls?

Oh, yes. Yes, please.

Daisy threw her head back. Heaven. Absolute heaven. She'd never felt so free, so uninhibited. Never would she have shared her desire to do this with another man. But with Jamie? With Jamie she wanted to share all of her deepest, darkest secrets, everything clean and everything dirty. With Jamie she wanted nothing more than to be herself.

If he still wanted her after that?

Well, then maybe, just maybe, he was the man for—

“Jamie! Oh, Jamie!”

When had he unzipped himself? When had he slid that rubber over his length? Daisy didn't know and she didn't care. All she cared about was the fact that Jamie was inside her, filling her, holding her face between his hands and kissing her for all she was worth as he plunged in and out of her.

So perfect. So wonderful.

Her body moved with his, accepting him into her, taking his length and his width with joy and ecstasy. It was better than any damn fantasy. It was everything Daisy ever wanted.

“Oh, Daisy.” Jamie groaned in her ear, his movements becoming faster, harder. “I need to come.”

“Yes.” She leaned back, taking more of him. “Yes. Please, Jamie, please.”

He grasped her hips and hauled her against him as he thrust deep inside, his cock pulsing in release, setting off her own climax. Her body rippled with waves of pleasure that corresponded with Jamie's. Her breath in sync with his, her heart pounding in rhythm with his, she clung to him with her arms and legs, never wanting to let him go.

19

D
AISY
'
S
BED
WAS
like the woman herself. Soft. Inviting. Comfortable. Sexy. Delicious-smelling...

Holy. Jamie could get used to this—lying with the most beautiful woman in his arms as she lazily drew pictures on his chest, circling a couple of old bruises and tracing his tattoo. He bet if she slipped her hand a few inches lower, he'd be ready to go all over again, even though they'd already
christened
two rooms.

“You know what's weird?” she asked softly.

“Hmm?” Jamie closed his eyes, enjoying her soft caress and the sound of her voice.

“I haven't heard from my grandmother in a while.”

His eyes opened. He must have misheard. “What did you say?”

“I mean, I know my grandmother's dead.” Her fingers paused on his chest. “But I hear her voice in my head sometimes. Or, I used to.” She resumed her drawing. “It's just memories...probably.”

“What kinds of things does she say?” Jamie asked slowly.

“Oh, all kinds of things. You know? Little sayings, reminders. She reassures me when I'm down. Reminds me of important things when I'm upset or angry.” Daisy laid her cheek against his chest and sighed. “It's nothing but... I miss it.”

He threaded his fingers through her hair and held her against him. Because she was so loving and generous, sometimes he forgot how much she'd lost. And here she was, giving herself to him so freely when she should probably blame him for everything that had happened. She was a remarkable woman. “I don't think it matters what it is—memories, whatever. Hearing your grandmother's voice is a gift. I'm sure you'll hear from her again.”

Daisy was silent for a few moments. “Jamie?”

“Yes?”

“What happened to Sarah?”

A strange chill tickled the crown of his head, spreading icy tentacles down his spine. Though his first response was to make up a story, he couldn't. After what Daisy had just revealed, Jamie needed to share something equally private. Equally important.

He just didn't know how to tell the story. Where to start.

“Was it an accident?” she asked quietly.

“No. It wasn't an accident.” The words were on the tip of his tongue, but they seemed too harsh, an unfair way to sum up the demise of his sister's kind spirit, and he couldn't bring himself to say them.

“Did someone hurt her?” Daisy asked.

He had to force himself to reply. “Yes.”

“They...killed her?”

He drew a deep, shuddering breath. His body went rigid. The thought of Sarah's death—her murder—still evoked the very same visceral reaction he'd felt in the first year after it happened: a hot boulder rolling around in his gut, a vise around his chest, an invisible hand around his throat.

“Oh, Jamie,” she whispered. “I'm sorry.” She tried to raise her head, but he couldn't look at her right now, so he held her there, needing her close but not able to bear the sympathy in her eyes because he didn't deserve it.

“It was her boyfriend,” he said finally. “We all thought he was a nice guy...” He swallowed with difficulty. “I was the last one in our family to hear from her before it happened.”

“No.”

Closing his eyes, Jamie tried to call forth the sound of her voice, but he couldn't, and he hated that he couldn't. “She asked for help. I didn't know it was for her, but I should have done something.”

“What kind of help?”

“Information on a restraining order.” His fingers tightened in Daisy's hair. “I was in my last year of law school, exam time. I rattled off the process and when she asked if she could come see me—” he squeezed his eyes shut, replaying the call for the ten millionth time “—I told her I was too busy studying.”

She rubbed a thumb across his chest. After a moment of silence she said, “It wasn't your fault.”

He shook his head. It was his fault. If he'd only taken the time. If he'd just listened to her, asked the right questions, he could have stopped it.

Daisy pulled herself up, elbows on his chest, gazing liquidly into his eyes. A tear stained her cheek. “It wasn't your fault.”

He nodded, not because he agreed with her but simply to acknowledge he'd heard her. His head understood that, perhaps, even if he'd known what was going on, even if he'd helped Sarah, the murder-suicide might still have happened. The problem was, his heart would always wonder, would never accept what happened, and he would always blame himself.

* * *

A
LL
MORNING
, D
AISY
was distracted by elements of Jamie's story from the previous night. It was so sad. Even now she found she had to sit because the idea of his sister being killed—beaten to death—by her boyfriend sucked the air right out of her lungs. The idea that Jamie blamed himself made her heart break. No wonder he was so fiercely protective. No wonder he'd wanted to help when she was down, but then pushed her away when she got too close.

She heard his voice in her head, replaying something he'd said when he'd first taken her to the gym.
Women are victims of violence way too often... They should know how to throw a punch. Where to hit. What it feels like. How not to be scared of it.”

When she'd asked whether he knew someone who'd been a victim, she hadn't given much thought to his long pause before he replied,
I think we all do.

Wiping her cheek with the back of her hand, Daisy finished unpacking the box she'd been working on. “Jamie Forsythe is the best man I've ever met,” she whispered to herself. “And I'm in love with him.”

As if in reply, her phone rang, and Daisy's heart did a neat back flip in the hopes that the caller was the man himself.

“Hi, Daisy. It's Mom. Do you have a second?”

“Sure.” Daisy got up and poured herself a glass of water. “Is it about the wedding?”

“No. It's about the book.” There was a giddiness in her mother's voice that was not only unusual, it was infectious.

“Is it almost done?”

“No. Not my book.
Our
book.”

“Our book?” Daisy shook her head, completely confused.

“The recipe book. Daisy...it's an e-book best seller!”

“What? How is that possible?”

“I don't know, but it is.” She heard the sound of her mother clapping her hands through the phone. “Now they want to do a huge print run. The book is going to be in bookstores and grocery stores and Walmart and Target...” She listed off all the other places her book was going to be. “It's going to be huge!”

Daisy sat back down again. “Wow. Congratulations, Mom. You must be thrilled.””

“Thrilled? I'm over the moon! But that's not even the best part.”

“What's the best part?” Wasn't the fact that the book—a tribute to her grandmother—would be available everywhere, enough?

“They're giving us an advance on the print and it's pretty generous, and with the money you raised, well, there's something Alexander and I want to propose. A venture of sorts. Can you meet us?”

* * *

J
AMIE
DUMPED
HIS
morning coffee down the sink at work. His stomach was too unsettled for coffee. Why had he told Daisy about Sarah? Why had he opened up that wound? It was too deep, too raw, too...

He clenched his fists and leaned against the counter in the staff room.

But then an image of Daisy, her cheeky smile, her rosy lips, her vulnerable and generous and sweet and exciting person, came to mind. At the thought of her, everything just seemed lighter. Better. His stomach still insisted on churning, but maybe that was more of a product of not having had a proper breakfast this morning than anything else.

He'd gone back to his place last night, explaining that all his work clothes were there, needing some space. However, once he'd returned to his apartment, it had felt even emptier than before.

“Jamie?” Helen, his assistant, called from the door. “There you are.”

Jamie turned around. Was it the tone of Helen's voice or the look on her face that got his gut churning again?

“The police are on the phone.”

“The police? What's going on?”

“There's been an...incident.”

His flesh went cold. In his mind's eye he saw the police standing at his door, giving him the news about Sarah. In a quiet voice he asked, “What's happened?” Daisy's beautiful smile flashed before his eyes, followed quickly by a pain lancing through his skull. If something happened to Daisy...

“It's Chloe Van Der Kamp. She's been shot.”

* * *

D
AISY
COULD
BARELY
contain her excitement. She'd just come from the meeting with Alexander, her mother and a real estate agent. They'd wanted to show her a place that was available for lease and to propose a joint venture. Using the money from the fundraiser and the money from the advance, plus a little capital from Alex, they wanted to help her open up a new Nana Sin's!

“I know it's a lot to take in, a lot to think about,” her mother had said. “So take as much time as you need.”

“What's there to think about?” Daisy had replied, taking her mother's hand. “Let's do it!”

Everything was working out for once! How could that be? Oh, who cared. All Daisy cared about was that things were looking up and she was blessed beyond reason. She had the best family, the best friends and...she was in love.

Lovely twinges raced through her veins at the thought. There was no point denying it. She was head over heels in love with Jamie Forsythe, and she wanted to share that information with him as soon as possible. Of course, he might not feel the same way, but it didn't matter.

She didn't care. She wasn't going to keep something as important as love inside anymore.

Love needed to be shared.

There was only one problem. Jamie wasn't at his place and he wasn't picking up his phone.

That left only one place for him to be. The gym.

While she waited outside on the step for someone to open the door—she really needed to talk to Jamie about giving her a key to this place—Daisy couldn't curb the nutty smile that was plastered on her face.

“Hey, Colin,” she said when the door finally opened and he held it for her to enter. The fact the brothers had ever tried to pull the wool over her eyes was laughable. So she laughed.

“You're in a good mood.”

“Yep.” She glanced around. Some of the guys waved and called out, asking where she'd been and what she'd brought for them today. “Sorry.” She held up her hands. “I'm empty-handed today. But I promise I'll be bringing more soon.” Happiness exploded inside her as she thought about the future.

“If you're looking for Jamie, he's not here.”

“Have you heard from him today?”

Colin shook his head. He was wearing a T-shirt and shorts. Though she'd seen him at the gym before, she'd never seen him in workout clothes. He cleared his throat. “Can I tell you something?”

“Sure. Anything.”

“I want to thank you.”

“For what? I haven't done anything.”

“You're really good for my brother.” He smiled, and Daisy decided her impression of Colin as snooty and cold had been incorrect. He was probably just one of those people who took a while to warm up.

The big doors behind her opened, and Colin craned his neck to see. “Speak of the devil. Here he is now.”

Feeling as if she was composed of air and clouds—who needed the Summer Size Diet Plan when you were happy?—Daisy turned around slowly. However, the second she met Jamie's gaze, her smile dropped from her face and gravity ripped her from the clouds back down to earth.

One look at him and she knew something was terribly wrong. His menacing tone left her with no doubt.

“Daisy Sinclair? What the hell are you doing here?”

* * *

T
HE
WORLD
WAS
a terrible place and no matter what Jamie did, he couldn't seem to make a difference. He couldn't seem to stop letting people down. His sister, his client... Daisy. He hadn't been able to save any of them.

The weird thing was, when he'd visited Chloe in the hospital, tubes running up her nose and machines beeping—the only indication she was still alive—it was Sarah's face he'd seen, the image of her lying in the morgue when he went to identify her, bruised and battered, almost unrecognizable from the beating that had killed her. He'd blinked the image away and suddenly it was Daisy lying in the bed, Daisy's silky curls spread out on the pillow. Daisy's body, lifeless.

The pain was excruciating.

He needed to do something about it and there was only one place to go to deal with that kind of angst. Except when he got to the gym, Daisy was there and the beast that lived inside, the one that had already been stretching its ugly head and poking his gut with its venomous claws, roared.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He strode up to her. “I told you not to come here.”

Daisy wrenched her arm out of his fierce grip. “I wanted to tell you something. A bunch of things actually. I couldn't wait so I—”

He held up his hand to stop her. It was too much. She was too much.

Too good.

Too loving.

Too trusting.

Too sweet.

He loved her too goddamn much.

“Daisy. I can't.” He motioned between the two of them. “Whatever this is between us, I can't.”

“What?” She blinked. “What are you talking about?”

He stared into her eyes. Cold. Bitter. Guilty. “It's over. I'm sorry.”

The pain and confusion in her soft gaze only made his decision more certain. He drew himself up to his full height, crossed his arms over his chest and waited for her to leave.