by Cara Colter
More was fine with him. Right now he never wanted to stop.
“So unfair,” she whispered, more a tiny gasp of sound, as he kissed her throat.
He grinned down at her, a brow lifted. Her voice was so full of feminine arousal he knew it wasn’t his kiss that was unfair.
Her smile in return was languorous. She pulled him back to her, and mock-grumbled between kisses, “The heatwave’s over, and it’s too cold to take your shirt off.”
The fire burning in him flared higher, hotter. “Touch me all you want.” Was that his voice? It sounded like tyres over gravel.
With a little sigh of delight, her hands slipped under his sweatshirt. “Ah, Noah …” She caressed him at first slow and soft, then with greater urgency, chest, stomach and waist; then she wrapped her arms around him and drew him back down to her. “More,” she whispered.
When she said his name like that, said more like that, the thin threads of control snapped. He devoured her like a starving man at a feast, and she was with him all the way, whimpering and arching up to him with all the passion of his summer-hot dreams, and then some.
Touching, caressing with sweet discovery and wild tension; tongues twined and mouths fused. Loving had never been like this for him, never so intense yet so right and beautiful.
In his limited experience, men wanted the touch and play of lovemaking far more than women. Yet Jennifer’s passion matched his, and raised the stakes. Her hands on his skin was making him crazy; the stroking of her tongue against the roof of his mouth short-wired every thought but the need to have her, now. Then one of her legs hooked around his, holding him down hard against her, and she moved against his aroused body again, her kiss hotter, deeper, almost frantic.
How had he been so blind, refusing to see what was right in front of him for so long? He thought he knew her; she’d reached right down to his soul from the start, not taking but giving, and he’d been drowning in her understated beauty and quiet grace from the first night.
Jennifer. Even the name had become beautiful to him.
But this Jennifer was vivid, passionate, raw with desire. She was melting into him like candle wax, making soft, eager sounds, her fingers and palms not just caressing his skin, but gulping it down, as hungry for him as he was for her. Mumbling his name between kisses and touches so glorious he lost all sense of time and place. Nothing else in his life had ever been like this. Jennifer, Jennifer …
He must have said it aloud, because she pulled back to smile, glowing with happiness and desire. “Noah, oh, yes, Noah,” she mumbled, and tugged at him until he was lying fully on top of her—and his brain circuits sizzled. “More, more.”
Oh, man, but he loved that word …
He smiled, but she’d pulled him back down before he could speak. More kisses, mouth, throat and at the vee of his sweatshirt. “I had to throw him out,” she mumbled, rolling them over until she lay on him. “He touched me, kissed me, and I just wanted him to go away.” She kissed him all over his face, throat, chest. His placid, everyday Jennifer seemed taken over by another being, a wild woman with no thought beyond touching him, loving his body. “He wasn’t you, Noah, he wasn’t you.”
The kiss following her words was even hotter, filled with a need so strong—not a need for any man, but him alone—it knocked him for six.
Torn between masculine triumph at her confession and primitive fury that another man touched her, he growled between kisses on her throat, “Did you tell him about us?”
Suddenly she stilled. “How could I? There was nothing to tell.”
He lifted his head and looked down at her, flushed and drugged with his kisses—and just a touch wary. “There is now. Is he still in town?”
The wild passion in her banked down, like a fire after someone stomped on it. She nodded. “He said he’d stay a few days to see if I’d change my mind.”
Another irony in their relationship—he’d gone crazy trying to find his wife for three years; she had her ex back and didn’t want him. “When he comes back, tell him about us.”
“And say what?” she asked with the fierceness of passion thwarted. He wished he’d kept his mouth shut—or kept speaking the language she’d been loving so much. “That we can’t keep our hands off each other, despite knowing we have no future? That stolen hours at a café, or meeting on a blanket in the grass in the night fifty feet from your kids is all we can have, but we take it anyway?” She pushed off him and rolled away.
Put with such blunt ferocity, he stared at her, a slow frown gathering between his brows. “Is that what you think? That I’d use you that way after all you’ve done for me, for the kids?”
“Did I say it was just you?” she snapped. “I’ve been just as stupid. I told you I had my reasons for staying out of this, yet here I am.”
“This.” She’d called it “This,” as if kissing and touching him was a disease she’d tried to avoid by washing her hands. “I remember,” he said grimly. “So why did you come tonight?”
Her eyes met his with quiet defiance. “You know why. I’m not going to lie for the sake of some misplaced pride. I’m here because I couldn’t think about anything else after you kissed me today. But there’s no future for us. You’re not divorced, you’re not a widower … and I’m—”
“I showed you the papers. I’ll be divorced in a month or two. I’m not using you, Jennifer.”
She gave a choked laugh. “That’s really not the point, is it?”
“Then what is?” But he knew. “Jennifer, I’m not playing here. I want you in my life, not just in bed. I want you, not a baby!”
“But I do, Noah.”
In the grip of fury greater than any he’d felt in years, he snapped, “So you’re saying I’m not enough for you? My kids aren’t enough?”
“You don’t understand. It’s me. It’s not just a wish, Noah—it’s a bone-deep part of me I can’t change. I can’t allow myself to fall in love with you—I’ll only make you all miserable in the end. Your kids deserve better than the second-best love I can give them … you deserve better than a woman who can’t give you children, but will never stop wanting them.” With a sigh, she got to her feet. “I shouldn’t have come here. I’m sorry. There’s just too many people who can be hurt. Even if you wanted something serious with me, it’s not going to happen. I won’t let it.”
Noah watched her walk away, her stride swift and determined. She meant every word of what she said.
CHAPTER TEN
JENNIFER knew something was wrong when Noah showed up late the next morning—just before the other kids and parents arrived—and alone. With a brief “good morning, Jennifer,” he taped up the west-facing windows.
“Where are the kids?” she asked, frowning.
“With their grandparents—remember? I told you last night,” he replied. “Excuse me. I’m starting the actual building today, as you know, so I’ll be putting the barricades up to block the kids from coming in.” He turned and walked out the door.
She followed him out, too angry to think. “And that’s it? You turn up late, don’t even bring the kids to say goodbye—”
He just kept walking. “The kids needed time out, away from here.”
That silenced her for a few moments. “I see,” she said eventually. They were alone …
Burning heat flashed across her cheeks. As if she floated in the sky above them the night before, she saw them entwined on the blanket, kissing as if it were the last night on earth …
The look he threw at her held a tamped-down fire of warning. “There’s no other sightings of Belinda left to follow,” he said quietly. “Peter and Jan are pretty devastated.”
The flat statement broke into her sensuous visions of last night, and made her take a step back. “Of course,” she faltered, feeling as if she was the one in the wrong, and he’d deliberately put her there. “I’ll miss them.”
“When they come home, I’ll be making other arrangements for them.” His voice was as hard as the dark
wood he was using for the verandah.
Now she really gasped. “Would you mind telling me why?”
He wouldn’t even look at her; he put the barricades in place between them, winding the orange cross-over plastic across the posts. “I thank you for all your kindness until now—but I can’t let you hurt them.”
The words came across the plastic as if it was an abyss … and she knew whatever he said next, she’d hate it; but she couldn’t walk away.
“They love you,” he remarked casually, as if it meant nothing. “Cilla and Rowdy think of you as a mother. Even Tim adores you and looks to you for security—and as you said last night, you won’t even think about it. You say you can’t love them as they deserve.” He moved away, winding more plastic across the next pole. “They’ve already lost one mother. I have to separate you from them before it gets any worse.”
A shaking hand lifted to her mouth. “I—Noah, I—”
But he shook his head. “Excuse me. I need to work now.”
His cool politeness was a barrier higher than any he created physically.
Within a minute he was bent over the lathe, cutting a verandah plank to the right length.
And Jennifer turned and walked back into the house, to greet the children arriving—children she loved, but weren’t her heart, just work, and she was filled with a sense of loss so profound she couldn’t argue, couldn’t even speak.
Damaged, loving Tim. Adorable Cilla. Beautiful, trusting Rowdy. And Noah …
She’d made the decision; it was the best thing for them all— but she hadn’t counted on losing them all so soon. She felt as if she’d lost her family a second time over.
The lights were still on at Jennifer’s house.
Noah sat at his back verandah, watching a blur of a shadow pass from room to room, which was all he could see at this distance. Lost without the kids to fill his evenings, more alone than he’d ever been, he watched her house, watched her and hated himself. He’d only done what he’d had to do, but he felt lower than a snake’s belly for hurting her.
Regrets were useless. It was over. Jennifer’s decision left him with no choice. He had to get the kids away from her before it got any worse for them; but he had to fight himself just to keep sitting here, to not go over there, to take her in his arms and comfort her, kiss her until—
His kids had to come first. He could risk his heart, but not the kids’. Not after losing one mother.
Decision made—but it didn’t stop the savage argument inside him. He loved the woman so damned much. Heart and soul, he belonged to her, to Jennifer—and she didn’t want him. Not for life. And that was all he could offer. He wanted forever, could offer nothing but forever, and she didn’t want it.
She does want it, his heart whispered. She’s just terrified she isn’t enough. She’s blinded herself to all that’s wonderful about her because she can’t have babies.
The sudden insight didn’t shock him. Maybe he’d known it all along. Jennifer thought it was about that bone-deep desire for her own babies—but he knew how much she loved his kids. She was a natural-born mother who hadn’t yet come to terms with her loss. He had to show her … to open her mind and heart to new possibilities …
He was at her door before he realised he’d made the decision, or even how he’d convince her. He only knew he had to try.
A soft Elvis ballad was playing on the CD player. Scented candles were lit around the house, as if she expected a lover; but through the screen, he could see her bent over the kitchen sink. Her arms were wrapped tight around her waist; her body heaved and rocked, and she was crying as though her heart had been ripped from her chest.
“Jennifer!”
By the time she gasped and whirled around, trying to wipe her cheeks, she was in his arms. “Ah, baby, don’t cry,” he growled. “I can’t stand it.”
Half expecting her to stand stiff and cold in his embrace, or to pull away, he felt her arms wrap around his waist with a surge of joy so strong it was almost pain. “Noah. Noah.” The whisper was harsh, violent in need. She hiccupped, gulped down air, and hiccupped again.
He tipped up her face, kissing her wet cheeks, damp eyes, her mouth. “I know, baby, I know.” He kissed her again, drinking in each hiccup of grief, giving her the affection and comfort she needed. “It’s just you and me. I’m here, Jennifer. I’m here.”
Her arms lifted, wrapping around his neck, and winding into his hair … and she kissed him, heartfelt kisses that lasted forever, promised forever, her red-rimmed, swollen eyes taking him in with a look of wonder, as if he’d vanish if she turned away.
She’d never looked more beautiful to him. He knew what he meant to her; she couldn’t hide it, not now, vulnerable in her grief for losing him—him, not just the kids. If she wasn’t in love with him, she was more than halfway there.
But love wasn’t the issue; they both knew that.
It wasn’t the time to push—but he could make a start. “I sent the papers today. I know that’s not the problem,” he added, when she stiffened and began to speak. “I don’t think we’re going to see the real issues clearly until we’ve spent time together alone. We’ve had nothing but problems and issues and kids since we met, Jennifer. The past has affected us both too much.”
“I know,” she whispered, holding him tight. “I’ve hated that.”
“Me, too … but for now it’s just you and me, and we have a week. Let’s take the time we have. No promises, no issues—let’s be just you and me, doing what we want, for once.”
Her eyes were so uncertain. Unsure of what he wanted.
He smiled a little. “No, we won’t make love—not yet. I want the right to take you out for dinner, for a ride—I haven’t taken my motorbike out since we moved here.”
“I didn’t know you had one.” She smiled up at him.
“With two helmets. Are you afraid of riding?”
“I’ve never done it, but always wanted to try.”
“Come with me tomorrow,” he whispered, rough and hard-edged with desire, trying to keep it down. “We’ll go to the escarpment at the national park after work. No—let’s play hooky. Fridays you usually only have my kids, right? So you have tomorrow off. Let’s spend the day together, just you and me.”
Jennifer didn’t even hesitate. She nodded, her eyes shining.
“I want to spend time with you without worrying about anything else.” The gravelly tone of his voice almost scared him. This meant so damned much, and she was glowing, her eyes drinking in his face as if he was beyond special to her. “Just you and me.”
“For this week, until the kids come home,” she whispered back.
She meant to reassure him, but it only sent scalding pain searing through his entire body. He nodded, not trusting his voice.
“I looked up other child-care centres in the area for you this afternoon. There’s three in Ballina, and one at Everwood. That’s only fifteen minutes from here.”
The shock of it hit him harder than it should have. Being Jennifer, of course she’d try to help him, even if it meant losing the kids she adored. “Thank you,” he said quietly; but the night-magic was gone. He pulled out of her arms. “I’ll pick you up about ten. Bring a thick jacket.”
The anxiety was back in her eyes, but she nodded. “I’m looking forward to it. I always thought I’d feel—dangerous—riding on the back of a motorbike.”
Despite the pain, he chuckled and buffed her chin. “You’re dangerous enough as it is. Don’t get ideas.”
“Me? Dangerous?” she laughed, catching his fist in her hand and caressing it. “Nobody’s ever called me that before.”
“Then they didn’t know you,” he muttered. His renegade body was getting ideas of its own, just feeling the repressed sensuality in her caress.
“Dangerous. I like it.” She grinned at him, and brushed his body with hers. “I like it a lot.” Her voice was all gentle and husky, filled with promise.
If he stayed here any longer, he’d
end up in her bed. He knew he could make her want it, here and now—she already did. But he was in way too deep. If he made love to her now, he’d want things she wasn’t ready to give. He had to wait. An old-fashioned courtship was the surest way to make her see they belonged together—that they could surmount the difficulties she saw as impossible. Yet right now he’d give anything just to touch her, drink in her bare skin with his hands and mouth …
“You’re too dangerous for my peace of mind.” His voice was all rough-edged and tight. “I’d better go.”
“You don’t have to,” the voice of temptation whispered into his neck.
He felt the shudder rock his whole frame. “Stop it,” he growled, aiming for a joking tone that failed miserably. “We have a week. I’m going to do this right.”
“At least one date before—”
“Don’t say it, Jennifer. I’m on the edge as it is.”
Her laughing tone died; she looked up at him, saw the truth of his words, and smiled. “I’m so glad it’s not just me that’s on the edge. I’m beginning to wonder if I’ll ever think about anything else but wanting you.” She kissed his shoulder through the thick woollen jumper, and he shuddered again. “See you tomorrow.”
She swatted his butt with a grin as he headed for the door. He grinned back at her. “I’ll get you for that, woman.”
“I hope so,” Jennifer whispered as she watched him leap over the boundary fence. Her knees were weak, and her body was flushed and tense with the need for him she couldn’t fight, much as she wanted to—no, had to.
For Noah’s sake, and for the kids, she could have him only for this week. She’d make love to him, and then she’d let him go.
He roared up to her back doorstep just before ten the next morning, looking like pure sin in the dark jeans, boots and black leather jacket. He flipped up the visor, grinned and held out a helmet. “Ready?”
She caught her breath back and even managed an unsteady laugh. “You bet. Where are we going?”
