by Piper Rayne
Beneath his tired sadness, she couldn't burden him further with her confession of love. She was afraid he wouldn't welcome the declaration, spurning her instead.
The silence between them was uncomfortable, the tension building. Jillian shifted her weight restlessly, unsure of what to say, and Scott sighed.
"I'm sorry, Jillian."
* * *
She wanted to remain silent, afraid his apology boded nothing good, but she couldn't. "For what, Scott."
"For being so mysterious, sweetheart. For burdening you with Timmy. I wanted to explain, but I prefer not to talk about certain things in front of Timmy."
"Never think Timmy is a burden to me. He's welcomed here anytime. As are you.” Jillian sat next to him. "Wh-what's happened?" she dared to ask again, wondering how bad the answer would be.
"Where should I begin?" he asked with a trace of bitterness. "On Monday morning, when I lost the Memphis contract and flew there in a desperate attempt to save it? Or should I tell you about what happened when I returned to discover that my housekeeper's husband became ill suddenly," he said with low torment. "It was a stroke."
"Oh, Scott! Is it bad?"
Scott's bleak expression answered her question even before he spoke. "I'm afraid so. His chance of survival is only about twenty percent."
"I'm so sorry, honey."
Scott stood, his raw emotion spilling over, vibrating through his body as he paced the length of the room. "I feel like such a cad. Mrs. Benson has been a part of my life for five years. Believe me when I say I am truly very fond of her. But all I've been able to think about is Timmy."
"Timmy? Why?"
"Because Mrs. Benson won't be returning. She's decided she'll remain with her husband as long as she has to. Which, of course, is as it should be. When my father had his accident, he clung to life for a week, but it just wasn't enough. His brain was damaged too severely. But I don't know what I'll tell Timmy now. He loves Mrs. Benson. She's been a stabling force for him.” He gave a short laugh. "And me, for that matter."
* * *
The hurt in his voice told Jillian how much his father's death had affected him. He had never spoken of his father, but maybe there was a reason for that. For years, she had been reluctant to speak of her own parents because of the bridge between them. Scott, however, seemed to be immersed in grief—for so many reasons. And now not only must he grapple with Mrs. Benson's loss, but he had to worry about Timmy's fragile, young emotions.
"Scott, I don't want to intrude, but if you'd like, I'd be happy to explain to Timmy about Mrs. Benson."
Scott gazed at her for long seconds, his expression inscrutable. Uncomfortable beneath his unreadable regard, Jillian shrugged. She refused to admit that she was slightly hurt that he didn't want her help and reminded herself she was in love with him, and not vice versa.
"It was just a thought," she mumbled.
Reseating himself next to her, Scott smiled with such tenderness Jillian's breath caught. If she didn't know better, she would think he was in love with her.
"Thank you, Jillian. Maybe we can both tell him."
She looked at him in surprise and nodded, liking that idea much better. But she wondered where Kayla fitted into all this. Weren’t she and Scott an item? It was time that that relationship was also aired in the open.
“What about Kayla? Won’t this cause a conflict with you? Maybe, it’ll even confuse Timmy.”
Scott blinked his tired eyes. “Kayla?” he repeated, unable to hide his surprise.
Raising her chin, Jillian gave him a steely look, daring him to lie to her. “Yes. She called the first day you brought Timmy over.”
“My secretary? She put her heart and soul into the work she did for me, but she told me she had a better offer from her friend, Dr. Ellenberger. I’m going to miss her. I took her to Pascal’s Manales the other night. When I told her she had been like a younger sister to me, she started bawling like a baby.” Scott shrugged. “Women. Go figure.”
Go figure indeed, Jillian thought. Men were so dense sometimes. She sensed that Kayla was in love with Scott. Why couldn’t he sense the same? Would he be able to sense Jillian’s feelings for him?
Knowing what unrequited love felt like, Kayla had Jillian’s deepest sympathies. But she also felt as if her heart could sing, because now she truly had a chance with Scott.
Laying his head on the back of the sofa, Scott stared at the ceiling. "I'd best be going. I've had a particularly long day. With the Memphis contract shot to smithereens, I had to go to Slidell to settle some business and hire a crew for a local building project I'm doing."
Her body tensed in anticipation as the realization sunk in that Scott wasn't going to Memphis. He had lost the contract! He and Kayla weren’t an item. And, she, Jillian, was in love with him.
Guilt followed her initial relief. She knew how much that contract meant to Scott. She moistened her dry lips to ask her next question. "What happened? I thought the contract was already signed."
* * *
Scott closed his eyes. "I wish it had been. Preliminary agreements were made, but nothing formal. I've spent thousands of dollars to secure this contract, and all for nothing.” He sat up and rested his elbows on his knees, hanging his head, the picture of dejection and tiredness. "At the last minute, one of their local companies underbid me and stole the contract right from under me. I never saw it coming."
"I'm so sorry," Jillian said quietly. "If you hadn't been here—"
"Don't even say that, baby. I wouldn't give up my time with you for anything. Timmy and I are quite lucky to have you, as irascible as you can be at times."
Jillian inched closer to him and put her arms around his neck, heartened by his words, but still reluctant to declare her love. "I've been so worried about you, Scott, and if you would have allowed me I would have come up to Memphis to see you and Timmy."
His mouth curved into his infectious grin, devastating in its appeal. "You would have?"
"Yes," she said softly. "I'm so sorry you lost the contract because I know how much it meant to you. But, in all honesty, I'm relieved right down to my toes."
Scott laughed, and Jillian joined him as he stood.
"Mr. Benson's stroke has put a lot of things into perspective for me. Most of all, my relationship with you, which I want to talk to you about. At the moment, though, I'm bushed. I'll just collect Timmy and be on my way."
"You'll do no such thing!” Jillian stood, hands on hips, and glared at him. It didn't help that his mysterious words were once again leaving her to speculate. From the tone of his voice, however, it didn't sound as if he wanted to end their relationship. "You're exhausted," she said with a touch of militancy, "and Timmy is quite comfortable where he is."
"I can't impose on you any longer, Jillian. You've already been more than gracious with your help."
"I won't take no for an answer."
* * *
"But Jillian—"
"No buts, Scott Martin! Perhaps you should think about staying too. The events of the last few days have certainly taken their toll on you too. You can sleep in bed with Timmy and I'll sleep on the sofa."
"I'll sleep on the sofa. I wouldn't dream of taking your bed away from you. Besides, I'm grubby enough to warrant sleeping on the floor."
He did need a shave, but the extra hair added to his virility and gave him a rakish, sexual appeal unmatched by any. She smiled in triumph. "That can easily be remedied, now can't it? Do you prefer a bath or a shower?"
"A shower, but—"
"I said no buts," Jillian said bossily. "I'm going to prepare a bath for you. It's more relaxing.” Going into the bathroom, she turned on the tap in the tub, wondering what her next move should be. She still needed to hear from him about what had happened to Timmy’s mother.
He hadn't taken a bath since he was a small boy. And he'd never taken a bubble bath in his life!
Scott grimaced in contentment, the heat soaking through to his tired bones. If he had
been less secure with his masculinity, he might have balked at being immersed in bubbles up to his torso. As it was, when he got out of the water, his skin would be softened, and he would be smelling like a combination of Ivory Liquid dish detergent and a floral bubble bath.
He smiled, grateful for her fussing over him. He needed it desperately right now. Not since the death of his mother, had he felt so vulnerable. But he was a grown man and it was hard for him to put his feelings into words. Jillian, however, seemed to understand what he needed, what he wanted, without him saying anything.
* * *
No wonder he loved her so much. Unfortunately, it had taken Mr. Benson being close to death to realize just how much she meant to him. Despite the fact that Mr. Benson's illness again reminded Scott of how fragile life could be. If the old man did succumb to his paralyzing stroke, as the doctors insisted, he would leave a legacy of love with his wife and kids. And he himself would know exactly what it meant to get that same type of love in return.
Mrs. Benson had said that nothing but his family had ever been more important to Mr. Benson. Indeed, his overtures of fatherly love had reached Scott and Timmy. Scott would grieve as much as his blood relations if the old man died.
But what a rich and rewarding life he'd had, filled with a wife who adored him, and children and grandchildren who admired and respected him.
It was the type of relationship his own parents had enjoyed. It was the type of relationship he longed to have with Jillian. And now he had a chance to prove to Jillian how much she meant to him.
Other than his irritation that he'd wasted months of money and contacts in Memphis, it hardly fazed him that he'd lost the contract. His complacency was shocking, but it spoke volumes.
He felt free. For the first time in years, he felt as if he could move on with his life and get a wife for himself, who would be a mother to his little brother. Jillian was perfect for both roles.
She was smart, caring, and attentive. Most of all, he was in love with her and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.
The water had begun to cool and he was impatient to see Jillian, so he decided to get out. Glancing around for a towel, Scott realized that was the one thing she'd forgotten to leave for him. He supposed it would be easy enough to find in the bathroom, but he didn't relish rifling through her cabinets without permission. Even though he doubted Jillian would mind, he now had an excuse to invite her into the bathroom.
* * *
Only feeling slightly guilty for what he was about to do, he turned on the hot water outlet to add more water to the tub. Done with that, he leaned back.
"Jillian?"
Jillian had been waiting on the sofa until Scott finished his bath, wondering exactly how tired he was. Scott had been a widower for more than five years. Not only that, he hinted that she meant more to him than she'd suspected. Now unencumbered with misplaced pride and constant worry about Scott's feelings for her or his dead wife—the woman would always hold a place in his heart as his first wife and as Timmy's mother—Jillian decided to move their relationship into the realm of intimacy. Then she heard his husky call and she jumped.
Her heart pounding with her intentions, her body heavy with anticipation and barely checked desire, she went to the door and knocked gently. "Yes, Scott?"
"Open the door, sweetheart."
His command had a seductive tone, and she found it impossible not to imagine how his voice would sound as he made love to her.
Complying with Scott's request, she swallowed hard and stepped inside the bathroom. Wicked heat rushed through her veins at the sight of his wide shoulders glistening from the water. The hair on his chest was plastered to his well-honed body, and traveled down, disappearing beneath an abundance of bubbles and suds.
He raised his gaze to her, the soul-reaching message, the age-old invitation hard to ignore. She heard her roar of blood, felt the currents pulsing through her. Her knees trembled and a hot ache grew within her.
"You forgot to show me where the towels are."
"They're in—"
* * *
Losing her train of thought at the intense, half-lidded look he gave to her, her voice trailed off.
"Close the door, Jillian. The water's just fine. Come join me."
Mesmerized by the tone of his voice, Jillian obeyed. She wished she had thought to put soft music on before she'd come into the bathroom. But under Scott's scrutiny and the magic of the moment, she needed nothing to guide her. Moving to the rhythm of her pulse-pounding desire, she slowly disrobed. The terrycloth robe she wore whooshed to the floor. Her cotton pajamas fell silently.
Scott swallowed visibly and his eyes darkened as she stood there with nothing on. He seemed nearly ready to jump from the water and ravish her.
His response to her giving her a heady sense of power, Jillian laughed throatily. Her dusky nipples were taut and swollen. Her gaze never leaving his, she walked to the tub, glorying in his fascination with her nudity.
She slipped into the tub and the level of water rose slightly.
"I'm afraid this isn't included with the service this inn provides.” Setting herself in front of Scott, she kissed him.
Scott reached for her. "Well, I should show my appreciation for the special attention.” He claimed her lips. "Jillian," he murmured.
She returned his kiss with equal ferocity, with nothing to inhibit her feelings. Her emotions whirled and spiraled, spinning her into a vortex.
Her hair trailed the water as she threw her head back.
* * *
Scott found her mouth again and guided her to him. Maneuvering in the tight confines of the bathtub, she locked her legs around his waist, and together they reached the perfect tempo. As they rocked against each other, the water in the tub began spilling over onto the floor. It vaguely came to her that Scott released the drain plug and the water began receding.
She kissed him wildly. His touch consumed her and turned her body into an inferno, ready to erupt in sweet agony.
Scott's arms tightened around her and they reached the stars together.
For endless moments, Scott held her and she clung to him in the now waterless bathtub. Slowly, her emotions ebbed back to normal.
"Oh, Scott," she whispered, when the overpowering grip of their feelings allowed them to slowly break apart, when only peace and contentment remained between them. "Scott."
"I know, Jillian, sweetheart," he murmured. “The sweetness was all too brief, all too rushed. Believe me, I do have a passionate slow hand.”
“Don’t apologize, Scott,” Jillian whispered. “We were both overwhelmed by our pent-up passion.”
Scott kissed her again, his maleness stirring to life again. However, he ignored it. When next they were together, he wanted Jillian in a bed.
From the moment Scott had first laid eyes on Jillian Riley she'd awakened something inside him—something he'd fought to ignore. Now, in the wake of their shattering lovemaking, he admitted that something more than mere raw passion happened between them tonight. Something vital. Something that only added to what he felt for her.
Until he'd met her, his life was mostly work, with the occasional date. All of his free time was devoted to Timmy. They played catch a lot. Although he had to sit Timmy on his shoulders in order for the seven-year-old to score a goal, they played basketball as well, using the goal Scott had installed in the backyard.
Timmy. His son. Well, not exactly his son. But with their great age difference, he couldn't imagine feeling anything but fatherly toward his baby brother.
He thought of the happiness earlier in the child's eyes, which was a far contrast to the devastated little boy whom he'd assumed responsibility for.
Like a son, Timmy was of his blood. In essence, however, Timmy had been orphaned at five. Since their mother's death, two years ago, Scott hadn't quite overcome his fear of fathering children.
He had a dangerous job. His father had died in a construction accident, leaving Scott T&C; and he
wouldn't want his kids orphaned for one reason or another. Even now, thinking of Timmy's predicament, he shuddered. He was Timmy's only living relative, and at times the pressures of Scott's responsibility was great. The bewildered little boy who had said goodbye to their mother had made Scott stop and take a look at his life.
It made him that much more ambitious. Scott worked long hard hours to retain the legacy his parents had built and to make sure Timmy would have money enough to assure the next generations of Martins an easy lifestyle.
It also made him decide he would never get seriously involved with any woman, leaving him no chance of getting married and risking fatherhood.
But then Jillian had made him pause and wonder what could be, if only. . .Suddenly, he wanted if only to become would happen.
Although Timmy gave him happiness, Jillian brought him joy. Jillian, who was a little kooky herself, with her assortment of weird friends. From the beginning, she'd tugged at his heart.
She could also be a positive influence on Timmy. But Timmy didn't reckon with his feelings for Jillian. He was a child, and would love Jillian for Jillian.
Scott paused in his thinking, and chuckled to himself. No way would he sleep with the little guy tonight. Jillian would just have to accept that Timmy's place was relegated to the sofa. Scott would tolerate no objections. Tonight, her place was in his arms on her bed.
Getting out of the tub, they delighted in drying one another. Afterwards, Scott allowed Jillian to shield him with a huge towel, while he did the same to her. He kissed her soundly then went to transfer the sleeping Timmy to the sofa.
Moments later, he joined Jillian in her bedroom for a hot and passionate night.
18
