Jennifer Crusie Bundle

by Jennifer Crusie

  “Well, not exactly empty.” Nick watched her move through the room, her red hair floating like a fireball against the white satin. “There’s the piano and you.”

  But Tess had stopped and was staring down at her clothes, appalled. “Even I match. My God, when did I start wearing black and white?”

  “You look great,” Nick protested. “And trust me, with that hair, you don’t need to worry about black and white. You’re always in Technicolor.”

  “Is this what you want?” she asked him suddenly. She spread her arms and looked down at her clothes. “Is this the way you want me to be?”

  He stopped, taken aback. “I want you to be the way you want to be,” he said, confused. “The way you’ve been since you moved in. You mean the clothes? You look great in black and white.”

  “That’s not what I mean.” Tess’s face creased in concern, and she turned away from him to run her hands down the keys of the massive grand piano.

  “Tess—” Nick stopped as she bent to look at something on the keyboard.

  “I don’t believe it,” she said, disgust thick in her voice. “They’ve made this into a player piano.”

  “What?”

  Tess spun around, indignant. “They’ve not only stripped all the color out of this room, they’ve stripped the people, too. You don’t even need a pianist. Just flip the switch.” She surveyed the room and then turned back to him. “I can’t stand it anymore. I’m starting to be this room. You flip the switch and I act all dignified and cold.” Her jaw clenched as she shook her head. “I don’t want to be this room, Nick. This room needs some excitement in its life. And so do I.” She walked to the side of the piano, and boosted herself up on the top, swinging her legs with sudden abandon and smiling at him evilly. “Come here.”

  “Are you crazy?” Nick said, equally appalled and aroused. “Get down from there.”

  “Come on, Nick.” Tess stretched out full-length across the piano on her back, letting her arms dangle over the keyboard, and Nick tried hard to keep his mind off her curves and on the get-down-from-there part. “Let’s strike a blow for humanity. Prove you’re not a robot. Come over here and make love to me.”

  “Tess—”

  “If you’re worried about me destroying a great musical instrument,” Tess said, tipping her head back to look at him upside down, “you can stop. Somebody already did that when they converted it. Can you believe they did that?”

  “No,” Nick said, distracted as she rolled over onto her stomach and kicked off her shoes. “What are you doing?”

  Tess propped her chin on her hand. “Did you ever see The Fabulous Baker Boys?”

  “Yes. Get off that piano.” Nick went to the doorway and checked the hall. There was nobody for miles, which relieved his mind considerably. He turned around to see that Tess was off the piano, which relieved his mind even more. But then she reached under her skirt and peeled off her black bikini underpants, which relieved him not at all. She tossed the pants at him, and he caught them.

  “No,” he said, feeling himself tighten as he watched her boost herself back up on the piano.

  “How about Pretty Woman?” she asked him.

  “No. Get off that piano.” He looked down at the scrap of black lace in his hand and then crammed it into his pocket before it gave him any more ideas than he already had.

  Tess crooked her finger at him. “Come here. We’re going to reclaim this morgue in the name of human passion.”

  “No, we’re not.” Nick leaned in the doorway, trying to be cool. “Forget it. Get dressed. We’ll go home. We can even stop and pick up a piano on the way if it’s going to have this effect on you, but no, not here.”

  “Pretty please?” Tess touched her lips with her tongue and smiled at him from the piano, and he felt the heat turn his brain to mush.

  No, no, no, no.

  “No,” he said, praying his voice was firm. “We can’t. I don’t have any protection and—” He stopped because Tess had slipped two fingers into her vest pocket and pulled out a condom. “You planned this?”

  “Of course not,” Tess said, dropping the condom on the piano. “But I’ve learned a lot from you. Fore-thought. Initiative.” She batted her eyes. “Drive.”

  “Don’t do this to me,” Nick said, and then she began to unbutton her vest, and he went to her to stop her because somebody had to be an adult in their relationship.

  He just hoped he could do it.

  A LITTLE VOICE in Tess said, “This is really stupid,” but it was drowned out by the louder voice that said, “You’re turning into a Corinne clone. Break away now.” The fear was real and so was the desire. She suddenly needed Nick’s weight on top of her, needed the warmth and the love and the emotion that seemed so faraway in Nick’s house when Nick wasn’t with her—and sometimes even when he was. He was standing in the doorway looking at her with that Jekyll face again, and she wanted the real Nick back. The room was so cold, and the real Nick was so hot, and she wanted him.

  So when he came to pull her off the piano, she leaned into him, running her toe up his inseam and loosening his tie as she moved her mouth softly to his neck.

  “No,” Nick said, trying to evade her mouth. “Come on, Tess, not here.” He looked over his shoulder. “Anybody could come in here.”

  “Oh, please, Nick,” she said against his neck, and he said, “No. Stop it.”

  Tess stopped moving her lips down his neck and rested her forehead on his shoulder in defeat. It wasn’t going to work. She had to face facts: if she wanted Nick, it was going to have to be his way. And that meant not just making love in beds, but in everything. She suddenly saw a lifetime of proper dinner parties and Opera Guild open houses stretching before her, and the thought was so depressing her desire died.

  “All right,” she said, and slid off the piano to stand beside him. “Let’s go home.” Nick looked at her, his forehead creased with concern, and she tried to smile up at him. “It’s all right. Let’s go. I was being dumb.”

  He leaned down and kissed her gently. “You’re never dumb,” he whispered against her cheek, and then he kissed her again. This time his mouth was hot and sweet, and his tongue tangled with hers, and she felt the heat rise in her again. Then he put his arms around her, and she felt him hesitate as he realized that she didn’t have a bra on. The hesitation was brief, then he moved his hands around to her breasts and she leaned into him, moaning a little as the pressure from his hands eased the ache there.

  “Oh, don’t,” she whispered to him. “I want you so much I can’t stand it.”

  He kissed her again, his mouth gentle against hers as he tasted her with his tongue. “I can’t stand it, either,” he whispered. “I’ll never make it home.” He put his hands on her waist and boosted her back up onto the piano, catching her mouth with his again.

  “Nick?” she said when she came up for air, and he said, “Don’t change too much. I appreciate this week, but don’t change too much.”

  As her relief turned to lust, she pulled him to her, wrapping her legs around him and taking his hand to move it under her shirt. His hand was cool on her breast, and she closed her eyes at the pure ecstasy of his touch, and then he pushed her back and rolled onto the piano with her. She moved against his weight and let her head fall back as he pulled up her blouse and took her breast with his mouth. His mouth felt so good and she wanted him so much.

  Oh, yes, she thought as the familiar dizzying heat flooded her. Then he shoved her skirt above her hips and pulled her tight against him. She moaned and it was part laughter because it felt so good to be pressed against him after such a long, cold week, and because the cold, hard surface of the piano made the hot, hard weight of him even more exciting. Then his fingers were inside her, and she moved against his hand until she thought she’d die. She bit his shoulder through his jacket and clawed at him while he fumbled with the condom, and he muffled her moans with his mouth, and then he was inside her, and she didn’t think at all anymore.

>   They fell back into the rhythm they found each time, and she felt herself winding tighter under him, felt herself about to explode, and then he stopped moving and put his hand over her mouth. She blinked in confusion.

  “Mr. Jamieson?” Mrs. Tate called up the stairs for what was clearly the second time.

  Tess’s spurt of laughter was smothered under Nick’s hand. “Yes?” he called back, giving Tess a warning glare that dissolved into a grin.

  “Did you find the player piano?”

  “Yes,” Nick said. He was trying to keep his voice steady and Tess sympathized, she really did, but he was hard inside her and she couldn’t bear it. She began to move against him, and he closed his eyes.

  “Shall I come up and turn it on for you?”

  “No,” Nick said. “Thank you, no. I’ll do it.”

  Tess peeled his hand from her mouth. “The switch is on the left side of the keyboard,” she breathed in his ear. “And then, if you don’t mind, please, I think I could come if you’d get a move on.” She rocked against him again and her voice broke. “I was really close before you stopped to chat.”

  “I have lost my mind,” Nick whispered in her ear. “And it’s your fault. But what the hell.” He reached his arm over the keyboard, fumbling for the switch, and she shuddered as he shifted inside her. Then the piano leapt to life playing the Minute Waltz and Tess laughed out loud and Nick rocked against her until everything came free inside her and all her worries went out into the universe with any other rational thought she might have had.

  “That was incredible,” she told him later, when they were curled up in bed together. “That was the best.”

  “I knew I should have told Christine to get me knee pads.” Nick winced as he stretched out his legs under the covers. “I’m too damn old for this.”

  “Ha,” Tess said, and set about convincing him that he wasn’t.

  Ten

  The next day Tess stomped past Pamela the receptionist to poke her head into Gina’s office, meaning to stay only long enough to find out if Gina was still all right and still oblivious to Park’s two-timing. She waved to her, and Gina, listening to somebody on the phone, waved back.

  “I’ve only got fifteen minutes until the next bus,” Tess whispered. “I just stopped by to tell you…”

  But Gina motioned her in, and Tess gave the next bus up for lost and sat down in the chair across from Gina’s desk.

  “Thank you very much, Mr. Edelstein. I’m sure that will be satisfactory,” Gina said in the well-modulated tones of an evening news anchor.

  Tess gaped.

  “Certainly. I’ll be looking forward to that. Until then.” Gina hung up and turned to Tess. “So what’s new with you?”

  “With me? When did you turn into Diane Sawyer?”

  “The voice or the suit?” Gina asked, and Tess realized that Gina’s usual black jersey separates were now lipstick red wool-crepe separates.

  “My God. What happened to you?” Tess asked, staring at Gina’s clothes.

  “I’m taking voice lessons,” Gina said. “I never had a speaking part, so I never needed them before now.”

  “And now you’ve got a speaking part?” Tess said grimly. “Like playing Park’s girlfriend?”

  “This isn’t Park’s idea,” Gina said. “I was gonna…going to do this, anyway. It’s important in my job. I spend a lotta…lot of time on the phone. I need this.”

  “And the suit? That helps you on the phone, too?”

  Gina stroked the rich fabric of the sleeve. “Park bought me the suit. He said he liked me in black, but he bet I looked spectacular in red. So we picked it out together. It was so much fun.”

  “I bet,” Tess said, consigning Park to the lowest level of hell for trying to stifle his guilt with his checkbook.

  “Is it bad that I let him buy it?” Gina asked. “I love this suit. I wanted this suit. It’s not like he’s keeping me.” She stuck out her chin. “And I do look spectacular in red. I don’t know why I didn’t dress in colors before.”

  “You look great,” Tess said quietly.

  Gina slumped back in her chair. “You don’t think I should have taken the suit.”

  “No,” Tess said. “That suit is none of my business. I was just thinking how much Nick would love it if I loved the clothes he bought me the way you love that suit. I didn’t tell you, did I? He did it again. Like that black dress. Only this time he stole my sweats and replaced them with these silk jersey things that slither. I told him not to, and he just patted me and now he keeps on doing it. My jeans are DKNY, my sweaters are all crewneck cashmere Ralph Lauren and my nightgowns are LaPerla.” Tess made a face. “It’s like Invasion of the Body Snatchers. The stuff is beautiful, but it isn’t me. Everytime he does it, I tell him not to, and he just laughs and says I looked sexy in the new stuff.”

  “So relax and enjoy it,” Gina said.

  “Gina, I don’t like the clothes he buys me. I’m not being politically correct. I hate the clothes. Crewnecks make me itch and I like sleeping in old T-shirts. They’re comfortable. And I hate the way the damn house is decorated—it’s like a meat locker with rugs. And I hate the Opera Guild. And I’ve been trying to be a good sport about all of it, but being a good sport is taking up all my time.”

  “So? What else have you got to do with your time?”

  “Find Lanny,” Tess said, and Gina groaned. “Listen, I’ve been making phone calls right and left and I finally got a great lead. One of Elise’s friends from the commune told me that another of the commune members willed all his papers to the University of Riverbend library, and his papers included an oral history of the commune by different people who lived there in the sixties. I mean, this is a hot lead. I’ve been planning to go over there, but I’ve put it off every night so I could go with Nick to the theater or to dinner with Welch or to the River Clean-up Dinner, or to the Opera Guild open house or some other damn thing.” Tess stared at her friend miserably. “The smartest thing I could do is move out, but then I’m afraid we wouldn’t ever see each other because we’re both so busy and we’d never make love on a piano again.”

  “I think I missed a step,” Gina said. “About the piano.”

  “That’s another thing that worries me,” Tess slumped down miserably in her chair. “I’m starting to change. For example, I really thought conventional sex would be boring.”

  “Conventional sex?”

  “You know, in a bedroom at night with the door locked. Missionary position. Lights off.”

  “Go on,” Gina said. “I’m trying to follow this. Nick likes the missionary position?”

  “Nick likes all the positions, as often as possible. Which is pretty fantastic, when you come to think about it.”

  “Good,” Gina said. “What’s the part about the lights off?”

  “That was an exaggeration. But he prefers sex in a bed. He’s happier in a bed. He prefers a bed.”

  “So do I,” Gina said. “My back doesn’t hurt, and I can roll over and go to sleep without having to move around.”

  “Well, that’s the problem,” Tess said. “As much as I hate to admit it, so do I. I mean, the other stuff is exciting, but it doesn’t last as long because of the risk, and I don’t get to touch him as much, and I’m really starting to prefer bedroom sex.”

  “This is not a problem.”

  “Yes, it is,” Tess said. “I’m getting conventional. I’m losing my edge. I’m changing.”

  Gina scowled at her. “Will you stop it? You’re not changing. Now, about this piano. Where exactly was it?”

  “The Opera Guild open house.”

  Gina sat up straight. “Are you nuts?”

  “You know, you sound a lot like Nick.”

  “There wasn’t even a door on that room.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Park took me on my lunch hour yesterday.” Gina slumped back again. “I can’t believe you lured that man onto that piano. He must be crazy about you.”


  “Oh.” Tess stopped to consider it. “You’re right. He must be. I hadn’t thought of that. He was just standing there in the doorway looking like Jekyll, and I was afraid, so I—”

  “So you tempted him into risky sex to make yourself feel better?” Gina’s voice sounded disbelieving. “Have you any idea what would happen to his career if he got caught doing you on a piano at the Opera Guild open house?”

  “I hadn’t really thought about it,” Tess said. “What would happen?”

  Gina gave an exasperated moan. “Don’t you pay attention to him? I can’t believe you’re this selfish.”

  “What are you talking about?” Tess said, insulted. “Of course, I pay attention to him.”

  “Then you’ll have noticed how important his social life is to his career,” Gina said. “You’ll have noticed how often he’s mixing with people and making connections. You’ll have noticed what a great reputation he has in this city.”

  “Of course, I’ve noticed,” Tess said. “I’ve spent the past two weeks of my life in that superficial social stuff.”

  “It’s superficial to you,” Gina said. “It isn’t to Nick or Park. Or me.”

  “What?”

  “I said, ‘Or me.”’ Gina looked at her defiantly. “I’m sorry. I’ve joined the dark side. Sue me.”

  Tess stared at the ceiling, speechless for a moment. “I don’t believe this. How could you?”

  “I don’t believe you,” Gina said. “I can’t understand why you’re so bigoted.”

  “Bigoted!” Tess said. “Me? I—”

  “Listen, if I shaved my head or decided to become a druid or told you I was a transvestite, you’d be there for me, no judgment, no argument. But because I want to join the mainstream, you’re going to bitch at me.”

  “Well, no. I’m just—”

  “And every conversation from now on will be ‘Gina, are you sure about this?’ and ‘Gina, you’ve been corrupted by wealth,’ and ‘Gina, if you’d just forget about Park and meet a nice guy with values’ and—”