She sighed. “I remember a much more hesitant man hiring me.”
“Bosses are supposed to be hesitant. It keeps you employees on your toes.”
“Nick, I don’t think it’s a good idea. For me … or for you.”
“I’ll worry about me, Jess.” He touched her cheek. “You just worry about what I’ll do if you’re not digging up my dirt Monday.”
“I’ll think about it over the weekend.”
“You’d better think right.”
She shook her head in resignation and smiled. “Good night, Nick.”
“I’m going,” he muttered under his breath, trying to shake the feeling of making a mistake, Louder, he said, “Good night, Jess.”
He took a step toward the cold indifferent night waiting outside her house … and turned around.
“The hell I’m going, Jessica Brannen.”
He yanked the door from her hands and slammed it shut. Pulling her to him, he covered her lips with his in a devastating kiss.
Taken by complete surprise, Jess couldn’t think to protest. All she could do was feel … feel the fierceness of the kiss … feel the overwhelming need in him … feel her own need rise to match it.
When the protest finally did come, it was without substance, only a weak reminder that she should not be kissing him, that her arms shouldn’t be entwined about his waist, that her hands shouldn’t be exploring the strong muscles of his back. Her body was flooded with yearning and pleasure, and her mind kept nudging her, reminding her of the laughter between them. She wanted him, and now she could taste the promise of satisfaction.
His hands traveled down her spine and crushed her hips to his. For long minutes, she inhaled the scent of cologne and man, tasted the tender fury of his mouth, heard the breath coming hard and fast within him. The zipper of her dress opened as if by magic, and the bodice slipped away from her aching breasts.
He buried his face in the softness of her neck, then touched her breasts with a sureness that drew the air from her body in a rush. He teased her with a string of kisses, from her hungry mouth to her tingling breasts, until his tongue was laving the hard point of her nipple. She held his head to her, driving the endless torment higher.
He finally raised his head, and she could see the need glittering in his eyes. “This is what you want between us, Jess. And more.”
She wasn’t sure what she wanted beyond this.
There was no denial in her, though, and she knew that for tonight she had been granted freedom from the past. She had to taste it fully before it was gone.
At her silence, his mouth came down on hers, and the intensity of their desire exploded. She was dimly aware of being lifted and carried to the sofa. Their hands shed the barrier of clothes and explored with a frenzied gentleness.
His fingers circled her nipples, tracing the sensitive points. Slowly the circle tightened until she nearly cried out from the heat he created. Then he stirred the flame higher with soft kisses. His fingers smoothed along her waist, her hips, her thighs, then his hands and mouth touched her in such ways that she became mindless with passion.
Her own hands were not idle. She delighted in the pelt of hair arrowing down his taut belly and the solid muscles of his thighs. His skin was hot, almost burning to her touch. It gave her a sense of feminine power to know she had created this fire within him.
All too soon and yet not soon enough, his hard body intertwined with the softness of hers. With each thrust, satin encased steel. As one in an ever-increasing tempo they burned brighter and brighter … then erupted into the searing flame of satisfaction and peace.
Jess felt warm and weightless. She sighed contentedly at nothing and everything. Slowly she opened her eyes, and the contentment instantly slipped away. She knew now what it was like to make love with Nick. She knew the intense need that only he could create within her, then placate with his passion and tenderness. But she could feel the dreaded smothering
panic just beneath the surface. This time it had been crueler than before. It had stayed away just long enough for her to experience making love with Nick … and to damn her with the knowledge.
She began to cry. She cried for herself, for what she wanted so badly and couldn’t have. But mostly she cried for Nick.
Nick felt a strange dampness on his shoulder. Dimly puzzled, he made a mighty effort and reached up to touch it. Then he heard a sob. He lifted his head to find Jess crying. Her tears shocked him out of his contented lethargy.
She was beautiful and astonishing, and she had a passion within her that had driven him beyond insanity. A voice had told him not to walk out the door, and he would be eternally grateful to that voice.
But she was weeping, and of all the reactions he might have expected after lovemaking, this one wasn’t on the list.
“Jess,” he whispered. He wiped away tears trickling down her cheeks. Maybe he hadn’t been as gentle as he’d hoped. “I hurt you, didn’t I? Lord, honey, I’m so sorry.”
“You didn’t hurt me,” she said, wiping at her face with the back of her hand. “This never should have happened. I should have stopped it. But I was selfish, so selfish.”
“I hope you’ll be even more selfish in the future,” he teased, hoping to find a way past her tears.
Instead, she cried even more. “No, you don’t. I’m so sorry, Nick. So sorry.”
He shook his head and tried to sort through her words. “I don’t understand.”
She sniffled back her tears. “I—I’m not normal. I can’t handle a relationship with a man.”
“Of course you’re normal.”
“No, I’m not!” she protested violently. “Look at me. Lovemaking leaves a normal person feeling wonderful and happy. All I feel is miserable.”
“I can’t tell you what that does for my ego,” he muttered, sitting up. He reached for his trousers and pulled them on.
“I knew it,” she said, gathering up her own clothes. She scooted over to the other side of the sofa and slipped on her dress. “I knew I’d hurt you somehow, and now I’ve done it.”
He brushed the wisps of hair away from her cheek. “I’m not hurt.”
She gave him a look of disbelief.
“Okay, maybe a little,” he conceded. “But you’re so unhappy; you have been all evening. You won’t talk about it, and I can’t do a damn thing to help you until you do.”
“But I told you, I’m not normal. I haven’t been since my divorce.”
He began to piece together the tidbits she’d given so far and came to an obvious conclusion. “You mean you’re afraid of being hurt again. Jess, we all have scars after a divorce. It’s only natural for you to be afraid.”
“This is different.” She drew in a deep breath. Her eyes were wide with her vulnerability. She seemed ready to shatter all over again, and yet he sensed that whatever she had been keeping pent up inside her was about to burst out.
“I was silly enough to think that mine would be a
fairly painless shedding of an adulterous husband, who had hurt my pride more than anything else.”
He smiled. “It’s always more than pride and it’s never painless, sweetheart. I’ve been there, too, remember.”
She closed her eyes briefly. “He sued for an alimony that made everyone’s head spin. It was bitter and messy, a landmark case in its way. And he won. The local papers had a field day during the trial, and I was prime meat for the gossip columns.” She smiled sadly. “Sandy said I was dull reading, hardly enough dirt in my past to plant a marigold in.”
Nick cursed at the thought of what she must have gone through.
She swallowed. “It took awhile to put it behind me. At least, I thought I had. And then a man asked me to dinner. We began seeing each other. I told myself it was only natural for him to expect something more than a good night kiss after two months of dating. It was normal for him, normal for anybody, and I knew it was time. But I … couldn’t. He was a nice man, and yet I froze at the idea of any kind of commitment. But instead of breaking it off like a normal person would, I went out and deliberately got myself arrested.”
“What!”
She nodded. “I went for a little drive on the turnpike, at a little beyond the speed limit. In the end the charges were speeding, verbally assaulting an officer, and resisting arrest. The cop and I had a disagreement about whether I was doing ninety or ninety-five. It was a little too much for my potential lover to accept, and he avoided me after that. I think I knew he would. I panicked with the next man. And
the next. By the third time, I realized exactly what I was doing. The trauma of finding out my husband was cheating on me, then going through that divorce, had ruined me for any other man. The possibility of another serious relationship terrifies me so much, I unconsciously do anything I can to scare the man off. For the past year I’ve kept my dating to a very casual minimum. Until you.”
One important fact stood out from the things she’d told him. He grinned in male pride and said, “Jess, I hate to burst your bubble, but you don’t have that problem with me.”
“You don’t understand!” she cried. “I’m doing it now! Are you going to want to make love again, knowing I’ll be miserable afterward? I won’t be able to help myself, Nick. Look at what I’ve done so far: I’ve hidden in bathrooms, acted like an idiot in front of everyone because of something Marty said, run away from a couple of lousy kisses—”
“They were far from lousy, Jess.”
She waved a hand. “You see? They were terrific and I insult you. I even quit my job over some stupid reason to provoke you. I won’t realize what I’m doing until I really do drive you away.”
Nick just smiled.
Jess awoke to bright sunlight. She uncurled from her cramped position on the empty sofa. She remembered bursting into fresh tears last night, and Nick gathering her in his arms to let her cry it out before she’d finally fallen asleep.
And now he was gone.
She climbed the stairs to the main bathroom. The
mirror revealed her blotchy complexion and red-rimmed eyes. She decided that if nothing else would have scared Nick off, her face would.
He had been so patient and kind last night, she thought. And she had been so … cruel. But their lovemaking had been more than physical relief of the tension between them. She had known that immediately, and had proceeded to annihilate the threads that were beginning to bind them together. If Nick’s absence was any indication, she had done the job all too well.
But she didn’t feel a trace of relief inside her this time. There was only pain, pain at the way he had held her when she’d started crying again, pain that she had fallen asleep in his embrace and awakened to nothing. Only now was she realizing how much he had endeared himself to her.
She knew she’d done the right thing. Nick wouldn’t want to involve himself with an emotionally crippled woman. And that was the last thing she wanted for him.
She felt no better after her shower, only resigned. She put on her thick robe, took a deep breath, and went downstairs to make coffee.
She had just turned on the coffee maker when her front door opened. She watched in shock as Nick stepped inside, took a key out of the lock, and shut the door behind him. He was carrying a large bag and had a newspaper tucked under his arm.
“I thought you were going to sleep the morning away,” he said. He tossed the key chain onto the table by the door, as if he’d been doing it for the last ten years.
“But … but …” she stammered, then blurted out, “You were gone!”
“Just to get breakfast.” He grinned at her as he walked to the other side of the kitchen bar. He set the bag on it. “I borrowed your keys to get back into the house. Hope you didn’t miss them.”
“Uh … no, I—”
“Good.” He pulled a box out of the paper bag. “I got buns and coffee. I’m not surprised you missed me, but I wanted to go to this great bakery in Langhorne. They make the best cinnamon buns and espresso—”
“But I’m making coffee,” she broke in. She was still too astonished by his reappearance to think straight.
He leaned toward her. “Jess, I’m not sure we should risk our stomachs a second time.”
She blushed hotly.
“Anyway, this is espresso,” he went on. He took out a large container, then a small box. He set the box away from the other items. “And I got some doughnut holes for Cat.”
The twinge of guilt at the mention of her imaginary cat brought her to her senses. “Nick, why are you here?”
He unfolded the newspaper and spread it out on what was left of the bar space. He began to flip through the sections, and she realized he was completely ignoring her question.
“Nick—”
“Here it is!” he exclaimed, slapping a page. “Look, Jess, it’s the
Inquirer
ad with your sketch.”
“My sketch?” She pulled the paper around to face her. Her original sketch of the farmhouse model,
with the rose garden fronting it, took up nearly the entire half-page ad for MeadowHill. Across the bottom of the ad in bold black script was: Custom homes by Mikaris Builders. Custom landscaping by J. Brannen and Associates.
“I used the sketch copy you gave me,” he said. “It looks terrific, doesn’t it? They’re running a full back page for the Sunday edition tomorrow.”
“You didn’t tell me,” she muttered, staring at the ad.
“I wanted to surprise you.” His hand touched her chin and lifted it until she was gazing directly into his worried eyes. “Maybe I shouldn’t have. Are you angry?”
“I …” She smiled. “No, Nick. It’s gorgeous.”
“Good. Let’s finish unpacking this stuff, J. Brannen. I’m starved.”
She set the paper aside. “That brings me back to my question. Why are you here, Nick?”
He looked at her steadily. “Because this is where I want to be.”
“Didn’t all the things I told you last night sink into your brain? I cannot have a normal relationship with a man! I go to extremes to destroy it.”
“And you’ve warned me, Jess.” He took her hands in his. “I choose to ignore it. That’s my problem, not yours.”
“But—”
“Things have happened very fast between us, and you weren’t expecting it. I’m not going to put any more pressure on you. I promise, Jess, and it’s a promise I won’t break. But I’m not going to disappear out of your life, either.”
She knew he meant it. It was so hard to fight him,
she thought, because it was the last thing she wanted to do. She didn’t hold out any hope for conquering her destructive nature, but she wished desperately that she could. At least he knew the truth about her now.