“Do you ever think about anybody but yourself?”
Her eyebrows shot right into that highborn forehead. “Get out!”
He was making a fool of himself, and if he stayed a moment longer, he’d only dig in deeper. But he’d never been good at backing away from a fight, so instead of acting like a reasonable adult, he leaned down and scooped her into his arms, blanket and all.
“Put me down! What do you think you’re doing?”
“My patriotic duty!” He kicked the door open, then had to juggle both her wiggling body and the door so he could lock it behind him before he carried her to the house.
“You are out of your teeny-tiny mind!”
“Probably.”
“Stop it right now! You’re acting like a Neanderthal!”
“Yeah, well, live with it.”
Inside Mabel, Lucy lay awake. The sound of the argument had brought her stomach pain back. She’d never expected them to fight like this. And she couldn’t even figure out what they were fighting about, since nothing Jorik said made sense. At least she understood it when Sandy and Trent used to fight about money.
But Jorik and Nell were a lot smarter than Sandy and Trent had been, smart enough to know that people needed to talk over their problems instead of just yelling at each other. What if they decided to break up?
Her stomach cramped.
She glanced over at Button, and the soft baby snores reassured her that her sister was still sleeping soundly. Making up her mind, she slipped out of bed and, moving as quietly as she could, made her way into the house.
“Put me down!”
“When I’m good and ready.”
She peeked around the corner and saw Mat carrying Nell up the stairs. Nell kept ordering him to let her go, and her voice sounded like she was shooting ice picks at him, but he wasn’t paying any attention.
Lucy’s stomach ache grew worse. Any minute now Jorik would go stomping off and get drunk, then Nell would start crying and get drunk, too. And then they wouldn’t talk to each other for a long time.
Lucy couldn’t stand it. She crept up the stairs in time to see Mat marching into the guest bedroom. There was a soft thumping sound as if he’d just set Nell down. Lucy reached the top step.
“Get out of here!”
“You bet I will!”
Lucy pressed her body against the wall and turned her head far enough to see inside. The only light in the room was coming from the hallway, but it was enough. And even though Mat had said he was leaving, he didn’t seem to be moving.
“Don’t think you’re going anywhere!” he exclaimed. “I’ll be sleeping right outside this door to make sure you stay where you are!”
“Stop telling me what to do!”
“Somebody has to!”
“Right! You never know when another car might backfire!”
They were so engrossed in their argument that they didn’t notice her. Nell just looked pissed, but Jorik looked really upset—like something big was wrong—and Lucy wished Nell would calm down long enough to ask him why he was so bummed. Any minute now Mat would stomp off, just like Trent used to.
Lucy started to turn away when she spotted the old skeleton key in the lock. Right then, she knew what she was going to do. It would get her in even bigger trouble, but Mat was already so mad at her, what did it matter?
Nell saw her just as she pulled the key from the lock. “Lucy? What—”
Lucy slammed the door, shoved the old key in the outside of the lock, and gave it a hard twist.
“Lucy!” Nell shrieked at the same time Jorik let out a yell.
Lucy put her mouth to the door and yelled right back. “You two have a time out!”
16
MAT RUSHED TO the door and twisted the knob, but it didn’t budge. He banged his fist against it. “Lucy! Open this door right now!”
Nothing but silence met his demand.
“Lucy, I’m warning you . . .”
With the door shut, the room’s only illumination came from the streetlight outside. Nealy hurried to the open window and looked down at the motor home in time to see the teenager run inside. She pressed her cheek against the glass. “You’re wasting your breath.”
He came over to stand beside her and followed the direction of her gaze. “This time she’s gone too far.”
Nealy wasn’t ready for their argument to end. She’d been ill-used, abused, and she had a whole litany of sins that she still wanted to rain down on his head. At the same time she wondered how he could look so good in a worn white T-shirt and gym shorts.
Straightening, she let the curtain fall back in place, turned on the small light that sat on top of the dresser, and glared at him. “This is all your fault.”
He pushed himself back from the window and sighed. “I know.”
That took the wind right out of her sails. Although she wasn’t proud to admit it, she’d been enjoying their fight. Imagine having someone yell at her like that. And imagine yelling right back without any need to censure her words or stifle her emotions. Her Litchfield ancestors must be spinning in their well-tended graves.
Even though he’d manhandled her, she hadn’t been the slightest bit afraid of him. He might believe he was capable of battering the females who upset him, but she knew differently.
She gave an injured sniff. “You frightened me to death.”
“I’m sorry. I really am.” He looked so dejected that she thought about taking pity on him, but then she thought not. First she wanted her pound of flesh.
Moving away from the window, she crossed her arms and stuck her nose in the air. “You stepped way over the line.
“I know. I—”
“You manhandled me! Terrified me!”
“I didn’t mean . . . I’m sorry.”
“Do you know that it’s a high crime to harm a member of the first family? You could go to prison.”
Unfortunately, she hadn’t been able to keep the relish from her voice, and he gave her a sideways look. “For how long?”
“Oh, ages and ages.”
“That long, huh?”
“I’m afraid so.” She gave him a biting glare. “But look on the bright side. In prison, there won’t be any females to clutter up your life.”
He moved away from the window toward the bed. “That does put a different spin on it.”
“Just tattooed men with names like Bruno. I’m sure a number of them will find you quite attractive.”
He lifted an eyebrow at her.
She glanced toward the locked door. “I’m glad I went to the bathroom before we started arguing. It looks like it might be a while before I get there again.”
He said nothing, but she still wasn’t finished annoying him. “Did you?”
“What?”
“Go to the bathroom.”
“For what?”
He was messing with her. “Forget I asked.”
“I definitely will.”
“When do you think she’ll let us out?”
“When she’s good and ready.”
She caught the flicker of a smile. “Don’t you dare condone what she did.”
“I’m going to beat her within an inch of her life.”
Now she was the one with the raised eyebrow. “Of course you are.”
He smiled again. “You’ve got to admire her guts. She knows there’s going to be hell to pay when I get out, but that didn’t stop her.”
Nealy’s own smile faded. “She’s desperate. I hate thinking about what she’s feeling.”
“Life’s tough.”
He wasn’t nearly as coldhearted as he pretended to be. She watched as he began to pace the room, slowly at first but picking up steam.
“I’m going to break down the door.”
“Spoken like a man.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Men like battering things. Bombing things.”
“Your friends bomb things. My friends just cuss, kick the couch, then fall asleep
in front of the TV.” Once again he rattled the knob.
“Calm down. She’ll open the door in the morning.”
“I’m not spending the night closed up in here with you.”
“If you’re afraid I’ll attack, don’t worry,” she snapped. “You’re stronger than I am, so I’m sure you can defend yourself.”
“Come on, Nell. We haven’t been able to keep our hands off each other for days.”
She gave him a snooty look. “I haven’t had one bit of trouble keeping my hands off you.”
“That’s a bald-faced lie. You want me so bad you can’t stand it!”
“I was dallying with you, that’s all.”
“Dallying?”
“Amusing myself. Really, Mat, you didn’t believe I was serious, did you? The lies men tell themselves to protect their fragile egos.”
“The only thing fragile about me right now is my self-control. You know exactly what’s going to happen if we spend the night in here together!”
She congratulated herself on getting him riled again. “Of course I do. You’ll scowl and insult me. Then you’ll remember who you’re insulting, and you’ll back off.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She bore in on him. “I’m Cornelia Case, the widow of the President of the United States. And you can’t deal with it!”
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
He was starting to yell again, which gratified her because there was nothing she wanted more than to go back to that place of yelling and passion and raw, biting emotion. “Things were fine when you believed I was poor little abandoned Nell Kelly, weren’t they?”
“Talk to me when you’re ready to make sense.”
“You could feel superior to poor Nell. But now that you know who I am, you aren’t man enough to handle it!”
Oh, boy . . . she’d done it with that one. Nobody challenged Mathias Jorik’s manhood and got away with it.
His gray eyes gleamed, he shot toward her, and the next thing she knew, she’d hit the mattress.
The bed frame shook as he sprawled next to her, triumph gleaming in those flint-gray eyes. She finally had him where she wanted him, but her victory wasn’t satisfying because she’d used psychological warfare when what she really wanted was to be courted.
He looked down at her, a myriad of emotions going to war on that magnificent battlefield of a face. “I’ve tried to be a gentleman about this . . .”
“A wimp is more like it.”
He reached beneath her top, whipped off the padding, and tossed it to the floor. “I’ve tried to be respectful . . .”
“You probably have rug burns on your knees from all that bowing and scraping.”
His eyes narrowed. “I’ve tried to point out the obvious . . .”
“The fact that I threaten you?”
He paused, then he deliberately cupped one hand over her breast and thumbed the nipple. “You do like to live dangerously.”
She turned her face away. “I want you to get off me and go away.”
“Not a chance in the world.”
“I’ve changed my mind.”
“About five minutes too late.”
She gazed back up at him. “You intend to force me?”
“Damn straight.”
“Oh.” She tried to look bored. “Get it over with, then.”
He chuckled and drew a gentle spiral around her nipple with his thumb. “An army of Secret Service couldn’t rescue you now.”
It was getting harder and harder to remain indifferent. “You cad.”
His tone softened, and the hand at her breast grew even more gentle. “Give it up, Nell. Just give it up, so we can make love the way we both want to.”
“My name is Nealy.” She needed to hear him say it. She needed to make certain he knew who he was making love to.
He took a deep breath. “Nealy.”
“Not easy, is it?” She couldn’t quite manage the breezy note she wanted.
“If you don’t shut up,” he said softly, “I’m going to gag you.”
“I think I should get up now.”
“Don’t say you weren’t warned.” His lips brushed hers, then settled over her mouth, silencing any other protests she might have made. As his body pressed against hers, his kiss stripped away the last of her stubbornness. He was good at that.
Suddenly he jerked away and sank back on the mattress with a muffled curse. “I don’t believe this.”
Her eyes flew open. Once again he’d remembered who she was. Or maybe it was something more fundamental. “There wasn’t anything wrong with that kiss!”
His smile looked forced. “The kiss was out of this world. It’s what we’re leading up to that’s complicated.” He caressed her cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. “Sweetheart, I’ve got a whole box of condoms. Unfortunately, they’re on the other side of that wall.”
She regarded him smugly “Lucky for us, I’m better organized. Look in my satchel.” Thank goodness she’d left it here when she finished putting on Button’s pajamas.
“The world can’t be this good. ” He shot off the bed and returned a few moments later with the box. Then he took up right where he’d left off.
Their mouths met hungrily, and she didn’t think she’d ever get enough of kissing him. He rolled her on top of him. She cradled his big, square jaw in her hands, angled her head, and reveled in taking control.
The kiss was subtly different with her in charge—clumsier, maybe, and not as well practiced, but eager . . . oh, so eager. She drew back and gazed down at those hot steel eyes, that tough mouth, softened now with desire. She shifted her position, hooked her foot around his calf, centered her breasts over his chest—romped on top of his great big body.
He groaned. “I hope you’re having a good time because you’re killing me.”
“Good.” She smiled down at him. “You’re killing me, too.”
“You have no idea how glad I am to hear that. ”
One of his hands slipped to the inside of her thigh. “You feel wonderful. For days, this is all I’ve been able to think about.”
She smiled and toyed with his earlobe. “All I’ve been able to think about is seeing you naked. All of you.”
“You want to see me naked?”
“Very much.” Without waiting for permission, she slid off him and rose to her knees. “Stand up so I can enjoy the view.”
“You sure you’re ready for this?” He slowly uncoiled.
“I think I can handle it.” She pulled off his T-shirt, then touched the elastic waistband of his shorts. He watched with half-closed lids as she drew them down an inch at a time. Her eyes widened. “Where’s your underwear?”
“In the dryer.” His drawl took on a delightfully menacing edge. “You got a problem with that?”
“I don’t know. Let me see.” She dallied with his navel for a moment, playing the part of a sexual tease, but really giving herself a little time to adjust. Finally she tugged the shorts away from the heaviness they weren’t doing anything to conceal.
The sight was stupendous, but she hadn’t nearly begun to look her fill when she was on her back again.
“Hey! I wasn’t finished looking.”
“Another time. We have all night.”
“Then what’s the rush?”
“Only a woman could ask a question like that. A very smart, sexy woman . . .” He nuzzled her neck, trifled with the corner of her mouth, drew her into another deep kiss. Then his hands moved to her clothes and, before she knew it, she was as naked as he.
He drew back far enough to gaze down at her too-thin body, and she began to wish she hadn’t turned on the lamp. But she saw no criticism in his expression, only desire.
His mouth softened in a sensual smile; his hand covered her breast. He gave a ragged groan as her fingers closed around him. She rose to her knees and let her hands play where they wanted. Before long, their limbs were entwined, their mouths wild.
He pulled away with effort, knelt beside her, and cupped his hands over her knees. Their eyes met, and his look told her this would be slow. First, he intended to see her, and he expected her to submit to his wicked curiosity.
She relaxed her legs, but didn’t part them. In an age of casual sex, her reticence might be old-fashioned, but she wanted this to be a gift to him. A gift that needed to be opened by the recipient.
Maybe he understood because his hands grew firmer around her knees. With gentle pressure he began to ease them apart.
She felt like a very young, very virginal bride. If she was no longer quite so young, it didn’t matter, and if she was still almost virgin, that hadn’t been her intention.
His hands slid onto her thighs, pushing them upward, opening them farther, making her increasingly vulnerable. A pulse throbbed at the base of his throat. He was fully aroused and very determined.
A ribbon of warm breeze curled from beneath the curtain and blew across that hot, moist place she was revealing to him. He gazed down at everything, and the look in his eyes grew fierce and territorial.
He shifted his position and brushed the light brown curls with his thumb. She gave a hiss of pleasure as he parted her in the most intimate way.
His finger touched her, and she sucked in her breath. He was so gentle for such a strong man. As he explored her, she felt as if he were marking his territory. Then he dipped his head and marked it with his mouth.
His dark, crisp hair brushed her inner thighs. She felt the tug of his lips, the nip of his teeth. With her eyes open, she stared at the ceiling, fighting the ecstasy because she couldn’t bear for it to end so quickly. But all the years of self-control hadn’t made her strong enough to resist this.
“Don’t,” she moaned. “Not until . . . I don’t want . . . Not until you’re inside me.”
He gazed up at her, his eyes dark with passion, his skin sleek with sweat. And then his powerful body settled over her smaller one. She felt sheltered, protected, and exquisitely threatened. Once she let this man inside her body, nothing would ever be the same again.
His entry was slow and determined, and although her body was slick with passion, she didn’t accept him easily. His kissed her . . . soothed her . . . pressed deeper . . . deeper still . . .
First Lady Page 23
