Witnessing the joy on her face as she examined each piece with such awe made the two-hour Friday afternoon road trip more than worth it. He was hard-pressed not to fall completely back in love with her.
He couldn’t help the rueful grin that tilted up the corner of his lips. As if he’d ever fallen out of love with her. No matter how much he tried to pretend he’d shut her out of his life completely, she’d always been there. Thoughts of her lingered, lying dormant in the recesses of his mind, waiting patiently for something to trigger them. Seeing her like this was triggering as hell.
“Do you see this craftsmanship?” Ivana asked, pointing to the delicate lace covering the bust of a powder-blue gown. “It’s amazing, isn’t it?”
“Amazing,” Jonathan agreed with a nod, although he hadn’t paid much attention to any of the items on exhibit. His sole focus had been on her.
There wasn’t much on display; only six gowns, little purses that she’d informed him were called reticules, a few fancy, silver hair combs, parasols, and a couple of perfume bottles. He feared she would be disappointed that they’d come all this way for such a small exhibit, but if the look on her face was any indication, he’d hit it out of the park.
She turned to him, the glimmer in her eyes confirming that he had indeed done exceptionally well with this little outing.
Little did she know, there was still so much more to come.
“Thank you so much for this,” Ivana said as she returned to his side. “I know this isn’t really your thing.”
“With the amount I’m investing in this new club that’s based on all this Regency era stuff, I’d better make it my thing.”
As the sound of her musical laugh wrapped itself around him, Jonathan knew he would be left to figuring out a way to pick up the pieces of his twice-broken heart when she went back to Haiti. He’d known it when he made that proposition. Every second she remained in his presence solidified the fact that he was doomed to never get over her.
He loved this woman. He would always love her.
“There’s more to come,” he said, taking her by the hand and lacing their fingers together.
“I’m not sure what you have planned, but I can promise you it won’t top this. This is the pinnacle for me.”
His brow arched. “You sure about that?”
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, her brown cheeks reddening. “Okay, so there may be a couple of ways you can top it.”
His head flew back with his laugh. “Come on, according to the map I pulled up on my phone, the next stop is only a five minute walk.”
They left the small museum and continued on a short pathway that brought them to a cottage with a thatched roof. Jonathan could admit to being charmed by the replication of a quaint English village.
When they entered the cottage, Ivana gasped.
Yes. Just the reaction he was hoping for.
The whimsical English tea room was filled with the kind of furniture Jonathan was afraid he’d break just by touching it with his pinky finger. Lace tablecloths adorned the small round tables and the dainty wooden chairs each had a satin sash tied around the spindled back. Each was set with satin placemats that matched the chair sashes and flower-patterned china cups and saucers.
“This is absolutely darling,” Ivana said. “I had no idea this place existed.”
“There wasn’t enough time for a trip back to London. This seemed like the next best thing.”
Her eyes gleamed with her warm smile. “You truly are the sweetest man I’ve ever known,” she said.
“Well, hello.” A short, plump woman who looked as if she was born with the sole purpose of running an English teahouse came from behind a wall lined with shelves of tea cups in various patterns. “You must be the Campbell party,” she said, extending her hand. “I’m JoAnne, the owner of A Perfect Cup. Welcome.”
“I’m Jonathan and this is Ivana,” Jonathan said, shaking her hand. “Thank you for taking us at the last minute.”
“Oh, it was no problem at all. I’ve been looking forward to hosting you ever since you mentioned you were bringing someone who truly appreciates a proper English tea. Come in, come in.” She made a flourishing gesture toward the table next to a window. “I thought the view of the garden would be nice for you today. There are many more blooms in the spring, but it’s still a charming view, in my opinion.”
“It’s lovely,” Ivana said as she sat.
“We have over one hundred flavors,” JoAnne proudly announced as she handed them menus. “Look these over and I will take your orders the moment I return.”
Since moving to the South his tea choices had consisted of sweet, extra sweet and super sweet, so Jonathan figured he was in for something pretty spectacular. He observed Ivana over the top of his menu and mentally high-fived himself. At one time, he lived to put that smile on her face. He now realized it was for his benefit as much as for hers.
JoAnn returned with a three-tiered serving platter covered with tiny, crustless sandwiches, chocolate-covered strawberries, and an assortment of miniature desserts. After Ivana revealed that she’d just visited the Regency era exhibit, their hostess took the liberty of joining them at the table and consuming every minute of their tea time.
Jonathan made several attempts to join in the conversation, but gave up after offering his opinion on the one Jane Austen adaptation he happened to catch while channel surfing and being told he was wrong, wrong, wrong. He made a mental note to look up Colin Firth on the IMDB, then sat back and enjoyed watching Ivana and her new friend delight in all things Regency England.
“Okay,” she said, once JoAnn finally cleared their table. “This was close to topping the exhibit. Not quite there, but pretty close.”
“Really,” Jonathan said. “Do I get another try?”
“What else could you possibly do to top this?”
A half hour later, he earned yet another stellar reaction from her as they rounded a curve and The Saint Francisville Inn came into view. The newly-restored nineteenth century Victorian inn sat nestled under a collection of towering, moss-laden oak trees, and was even more beautiful than it had appeared online.
Jonathan grabbed the overnight bag he’d packed before leaving from the trunk.
“You certainly thought of everything, didn’t you?” Ivana said with a laugh. “Not that I’m surprised. When you decide to do something, you never go halfway.”
“And I’m not about to start,” he said, placing a quick kiss on her lips.
They walked up the stairs to the wraparound porch and, when they entered the house, were greeted with flutes of complimentary champagne. The owner offered a tour of the house and grounds, which Ivana eagerly agreed to. The courtyard and pool were impressive, and Jonathan could see them enjoying drinks in the wine parlor later, but right now all he could think about was getting her alone.
By the time they were given keys and directions to The Azalea Room—their room—he was wound so tight Jonathan knew he’d have to take some time to calm himself down.
Ivana was having none of that.
The minute they entered the room, she closed the door and backed him up against it.
“You win,” she said. “This tops everything.”
She cupped his face in her hands and brought his mouth to hers, opening her lips and receiving his tongue as if it were a treasured gift. Her hands went to his waistband, grabbing at his shirt. Then she went after his belt buckle and the fly of his pants.
As she helped him out of his clothes, Jonathan returned the favor, dropping the overnight bag at their feet and peeling her sweater and dress from her body. Kissing like a couple of horny teenagers on prom night, they stumbled over to the king size bed. They were too hot for each other to bother with the bedding; going at it on top of the white duvet.
Jonathan kissed his way up and down her torso, lapping his tongue around her small, perfect breasts and sucking her nipple into his mouth. She tasted of the rose-scented talc she dusted over her chest when getti
ng dressed in the morning. He reveled in her flavor, his hunger level spiking with each delicious lick.
He’d intended for the foreplay to last longer, but the moment Ivana reached down and closed her warm palm around his erection, he only had one goal in mind. Jonathan shoved himself off the bed and retrieved a condom from the carry-on bag, rolling it on before he made it back to the bed.
She waited for him with her long, glorious legs slightly open, a tantalizing invitation to heaven on earth. A low, animalistic groan climbed from his throat as he settled between her thighs, entering her with one smooth motion.
Heaven. Pure, soul-cleansing, mind-numbing pleasure enveloped his entire being. Nothing in this world could ever compare to the sensation that came over him the moment he slipped into her welcoming warmth.
“You are divine,” Jonathan whispered in her ear as he plunged deep, sinking into her heat, relishing the hot, snug fit of her body around his. His heart thumped erratically within his chest as they found an intoxicating rhythm, her hips lifting to meet him thrust for thrust.
Jonathan tried with everything within him to stave off the climax that began to build at the small of his back, but he had a better chance of fending off a lion with his bare hands. He brought his thumb to his mouth and coated it before reaching between their bodies and stroking her clit.
Ivana went off like cannon fire, her body vibrating beneath him, catapulting him straight into the strongest, most electrifying climax he’d experienced in years. He surrendered his all, glorying in the sensations shooting through his bloodstream.
He collapsed on top of her, then quickly rolled off, wrapping her in his arms and pulling her in close. He pressed dozens of tender kisses along her hairline, down her jaw, behind her ear. He couldn’t get enough of her.
Would there ever be a time when she didn’t own him completely, body and soul? He could deny it until his grave, but Jonathan knew in his heart of hearts that he was forever hers. There wasn’t a soul on this earth he could ever love as profoundly as he loved her.
“Why, Ivana?” Jonathan asked, his voice a harsh whisper.
He’d avoided asking this question for the last few weeks, having convinced himself that it was better not to bring it up. But as he looked upon her flushed face, replete with satisfaction, he needed to know why she left. Why, when this could have been their life together, had she taken off, leaving him with nothing but heartache and memories?
“We had so many plans. We were so damn perfect together. What made you leave?”
She stared into his eyes, hers filled with remorse. “I was scared,” she said.
He’d expected that answer, but he wouldn’t allow her to get away with it. Being afraid wasn’t a good enough reason to leave him without a word and stay away for three long years.
“That’s bullshit,” he said. “What did you have to fear? What had I done to make you so afraid that your only way out was to leave the fucking country, Ivana?”
She put a hand to his chest.
“I know it doesn’t sound like much of an excuse, but try to look at it from my perspective. I spent years in a marriage that made me miserable. I spent years in a career that made me just as miserable. And why? Because I was told it’s what I should have wanted. I didn’t find myself—my true self—until I left both the career and my ex-husband.
“I was free. For years, I happily lived in my own truth, with no one else defining me, no job giving me my self-worth.” She brought her hand up from his chest and rested her palm against his cheek. “Then you walked into my world and changed everything.”
“I never tried to change you, Ivana. Why would I ever want to change you? I fell in love with that gorgeous woman who was courageous enough to live in her own truth.”
“I know,” she said. “But the fear was still there, and the closer it got to the wedding, the more it built up, until I thought it would suffocate me. I was afraid that once I became Mrs. Jonathan Campbell, I would stop being Ivana Culpepper. And I…I panicked. That’s the only way to describe it.”
She dipped her head, her voice growing soft. “When I got a call from a friend I hadn’t seen in years, telling me about the relief effort in Haiti, I saw it as a way to escape. I never meant to stay away as long as I did,” she said. “I thought I would go there, clear my head, make sure I was really ready to become your bride, and then I’d return home. But it wasn’t that easy.”
“You didn’t even call, Ivana. Not a single email, or text, or anything. You were my life, and you just left me without a word.”
“I was ashamed,” she whispered. “I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s the truth.”
Jonathan closed his eyes and released a slow breath.
“How can I ever trust you again? How do I know you won’t pull something like this in the future?” He shook his head. “Not that it matters. You’re leaving in a few weeks anyway.”
“I—” she started, but then she stopped. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know you said you don’t want to hear it anymore, but it feels as if I can’t say it enough.” She caressed his jaw with her thumb, stroking back and forth. “No matter where I am in this world, I promise to never shut you out again.”
She took his hand, pressed a kiss to the center of his palm, and placed it in the center of her chest.
“This is where I carry you. Always.”
There was no longer any doubt in his mind that heartache lay just around the corner. But then he’d known from the moment she showed up on his doorstep that it would break his heart to see her leave yet again. No matter where she was in the world, she was destined to be his greatest source of joy, and his greatest source of anguish.
And he was destined to love her through it all.
Chapter Eleven
A slow, satisfied smile spread across Ivana’s lips as the sun’s warmth crept along her bare skin. It had been so long since she’d felt this satiated. This replete.
Her earlier aversion to spending the night in Jonathan’s bed now seemed silly. The knowledge that there had been others that lay here with him in the years she’d been away didn’t change the fact that she was here now. That she belonged here. As much as she’d enjoyed their night at The Saint Francisville Inn, Ivana was actually grateful that they couldn’t extend their stay for the entire weekend. She wanted to be in this bed. His bed.
She stretched her legs out, then wrapped them around his waist. Her grin grew just a bit more wicked as she felt the muscle between his legs began to pulse, even as his light snores continued to sound throughout the quiet room. She pressed a kiss to his bare chest and lay her head against it, but then laughed when his hand found its way to her backside and squeezed.
She looked up at him. “I thought you were still sleeping.”
“So did I. Another part of me, however, is very much awake.” He twisted his hips just a bit, bringing his hardening erection in contact with her inner thigh.
Ivana reached between them and wrapped her hand around it. She slowly began to massage him, sliding her palm up and down his stiffening cock and squeezing gently. Jonathan lifted his hips up as he pressed the back of his head into the pillow, thrusting into her hand.
Watching the scene play out as it had so many times in the past, it felt as if she was living in a fantasy. It wasn’t long before he was rigid and ready for her. Ivana climbed onto his lap and guided him inside, her core stretching deliciously around him. She wouldn’t have thought her body could take any more of this after the night they’d shared, but the body was an amazing thing when it came to pleasure. The more it received, the more it wanted. And when it came to pleasuring her, no one could do it quite like Jonathan.
He took her to heights she hadn’t reached in far too long, turning her onto her back and driving himself deeper and deeper, until a powerful orgasm swept through her body. Ivana fell back onto the bed in a heap of exhausted, satisfied woman. She’d been addicted to him from the very first time she made love with him, and that addiction had co
me roaring back with a vengeance. Now that she had him in her life again, she couldn’t help but imagine spending countless mornings like this, in bed with the man she loved.
“Why don’t you stay here with me?” he asked in a hushed voice.
Her eyes canvassed his face as she tried to interpret whether or not she’d heard him correctly.
“What do you mean?” Ivana asked.
“Exactly what I just said.” He brought his hand up to the back of her neck and kneaded it with his fingers. “You’ll be back in Haiti soon. I want you to spend what time you do have left here with me.”
“But I…I just moved my stuff into my grandmother’s old house,” she said.
“Which took all of a few hours,” he said with a deep chuckle, laying waste to her lame, hastily concocted excuse. “I’m willing to sacrifice a few more hours to move you from that house to this one, if it means waking up like this for the next few weeks.”
He pressed a kiss to the spot between her ear and shoulder. “Stay with me, Ivana.”
Should she tell him she wasn’t returning to Haiti?
She’d responded to Patience Edwards’s email just last night, while waiting for Jonathan to return with po’boys from a late-night dive bar in the French Quarter. She’d thanked Patience for the years of friendship and support, and explained that she planned to take her advice and move back to the States.
She hadn’t decided whether she would return to New Orleans, because the thought of living here and not being with Jonathan was too painful to bear. But if he wanted her to spend these next few weeks with him, could it possibly mean that he would ask her to stay with him, permanently?
“Okay,” she finally answered.
“Okay? Meaning we can move your things here?”
Ivana pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and nodded. “Yes. I would like that very, very much.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him more firmly on top of her. “Almost as much as I’d like this,” she said before she kissed him again.
They remained in bed for another hour, racking up orgasm after orgasm, until Ivana was sure she’d run out of the ability to climax. But then Jonathan buried his head between her thighs and proved her wrong.
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