Melody closed her eyes tightly as Jones’s long fingers caressed the mountain that was her belly. Somehow he knew exactly how to touch her. Watching those powerful-looking hands touch her so exquisitely gently was enough to make her dizzy.
“Is this all right?” he asked. “Am I doing this right?”
She managed to nod. Right was not quite the word for what he was doing.
“How’s your lower back?” he asked, using his other hand to reach between them and massage her. “This is where you’re always hurting the most, isn’t it?”
She nodded again, unable to speak.
“Are you focusing on the breathing?” he asked, his voice soft and soothing in her ear. “If I know you, you’re not. You’re thinking about something else entirely—about Brittany and Andy, about what’s going on over at the Romanellas’. You’re always thinking and worrying about someone else, but right now, you’ve got to clear your mind and think only about yourself. Relax and breathe and just shut everything else out.” He laughed softly. “I know that’s hard because I’m probably the one problem you’d like to shut out the most, right?”
Wrong. Jones was wrong. He was incredibly, impossibly, amazingly, totally wrong. Melody realized with a sudden startling clarity that she didn’t want to shut him out. She’d tried, but he’d been doggedly persistent, and somehow, someway, over the past few weeks, he’d gone from former lover and near stranger to dear friend.
He’d been patient and he’d let her see that although he would never be called average or normal, there was a part of him that could be content just sitting on the porch, talking and watching the sunset. He’d taken his time and told her stories about himself as a boy, about growing up, so she felt she had a good sense of him, of why he did the things he did. And his dealings with Andy had told her even more about the kind of man he’d become.
He was the kind of man she could fall in love with.
The kind of man she had fallen in love with.
I know you pretty well by now, he’d said. If I know you… He did know her. And she knew him.
Oh, she didn’t know him completely. Even if she spent the rest of her life with him, there’d still be secrets she knew he’d never share with her. And even the parts of him she did know, she’d never totally understand. His need to risk his life, to be a SEAL. But even though she didn’t understand it, she could appreciate it. And God knows he was good at what he did.
She was starting to believe that if he did marry her, he would stick by her—for the rest of his life, if need be. If he made a vow, he wouldn’t break it. He had the strength and the willpower to keep to his word, no matter how hard.
But would that be enough for her? Knowing that he was with her not out of love, but out of duty? Was it possible that her own feelings for him were strong enough to sustain them both?
She didn’t think so.
She knew he liked her. And although she couldn’t quite believe it, he seemed to desire her. But unless he loved her, truly loved her, she couldn’t marry him. Could she?
“Mel, you’re tightening up again,” Jones whispered. “Just let it go. Whatever you’re wrestling with, just give it up, throw it away.”
“We’re out of time,” Abby announced. “The next class is about to break down the doors, so just leave your mats and pillows where they are. Next week, we’re going to work on Modified-Paced Breathing and the Progressive Relaxation Exercise, so read over those sections in your books—it’ll save us a little time. Ladies, remember to do your stretches and your Kegels!”
Jones helped Melody to her feet. He would’ve held on to her hand, but she pulled away, afraid he would somehow know the awful truth just from touching her. She’d done what she’d sworn she wouldn’t do. She’d fallen in love with him. She was doomed.
A shadow flickered in his eyes, and all at once he looked about as tired as she felt. “You’re never going be able to relax around me, are you?” It was a rhetorical question, and he didn’t wait for her to answer. “It was stupid to think I could be your labor coach. Come on, let’s get you home. You look beat.”
He was careful not to touch her again as he opened the door for her. And he was noticeably silent in the car on the way home. And it wasn’t until they pulled into the driveway that Melody gathered up the nerve to speak.
“Jones, I’m sorry…I, um…” What could she possibly say? I love you? She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to tell him that. Not with words anyway. Not in this lifetime.
He pulled up the parking brake and turned to face her. “Mel, look, I’ve been thinking about…a lot of things. Andy. Our baby. You and me. You—what you want and what you don’t want.” The muscle in his jaw was jumping. “As in me.”
“Jones—”
He stopped her by holding up one hand. “I need to say this, so please let me talk. I think it’s kind of obvious that my parenting skills need a lot of work. I’m not sure anymore that I should help you raise our child.
“But I keep coming back to the fact that I don’t want this kid growing up thinking I don’t give a damn. Because I do. I do.” His voice broke, and he took a deep breath, steadying himself. “I care about him, but I care about you, too. And what Andy said is right. If you marry me, you’ll never find someone that you can really love, someone who can be a real father to our baby.”
“Jones—”
“Hush and let me finish. I’m giving you your deal, Melody. You acknowledge that the baby’s mine, put my name on his birth certificate, let me come and visit a couple times a year. I’ll want to pay child support, too, but we can have our lawyers work that out.”
He cleared his throat. “My only other condition is that I’d like to be there when the baby’s born. I know there’s no real way to be certain when that’s going to take place, but it’s not likely to happen within the next three weeks. So I figure what I’ll do is pack up and head back to base as soon as possible. I’ll apply for additional leave at the start of December, and then we’ll just cross our fingers and hope it happens sooner rather than later.”
Melody was speechless. He was accepting her deal. He had it all figured out, down to being there when the baby was born. He was capitulating, backing down, giving in. She could barely believe it.
Didn’t he realize that she was on the verge of surrender herself?
But there was no need to worry anymore. She’d won.
So why did she feel as if she’d lost?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
COWBOY STOOD ON the steps of the porch, waiting while Melody unlocked the front door. He was making sure she got safely inside before he returned to his tent. He’d grab a combat nap—just enough to refresh him—and then he’d pack up and walk over to the gas station by the highway, bum a ride off someone heading into Boston. Once in town, he’d take the T to Logan Airport. By sunup, he’d be wheels up, heading back to base.
Harvard had told him most of Alpha Squad had long since returned to Virginia. After a great deal of bitching and moaning, FinCOM was ready to negotiate with Joe Cat about the counterterrorist training session. It looked as if FinCOM would keep its rule book with the understanding that the program was going to happen on a trial basis only. Although latest word was that the combined SEAL/FinCOM training program wouldn’t happen until spring—May or June at the earliest.
Which left Alpha Squad with a looong time to prepare. But as they waited, of course, they were ready to go wherever they were needed at a moment’s notice.
The moon had risen above the trees, and its silvery light made Melody’s face seem exquisitely otherworldly as she pushed open the door and then turned to face him. “Good night.”
“You are beautiful, you know.”
She closed her eyes. “Jones, we’re done. We’ve come to an agreement. There’s no need for you to—”
“Yeah, I know,” he interrupted. “I figure that’s why I can say it. I don’t have to worry anymore about you freaking out and running away. Hell, I don’t have to stop there.
I can tell you that despite what you think, you’re the sexiest lady I’ve ever known.”
She tried to make a joke of it. “Well, sure, you’re a SEAL. After spending all that time in the ocean, it’s no wonder you’d be attracted to someone who reminds you of a whale.”
Cowboy didn’t laugh. “You know what you remind me of?”
“A circus tent?”
He refused to acknowledge her attempts at humor. He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “You remind me of the hottest, most powerful sex I’ve ever had in my life. Every time I see you, I think about what we did to make you look that way. I think about locking myself in that bathroom with you on board that 747. I think about the way you made me feel, about the fact that for the first time in my entire life, I honest to God didn’t care that I didn’t have a condom.”
He lowered his voice. “I think about the way you kissed me when you climaxed so you wouldn’t cry out. I look at you, Melody, and I remember every stroke, every touch, every kiss. I look at you, and all I can think about is how badly I want another chance to make love to you like that again.”
Melody was silent, just staring at him, her eyes wide.
“So,” Cowboy said, “now you know.”
She still didn’t say a word. But she didn’t run away, either.
He took a step toward her, and then another step, and she still didn’t move. “I may be way out of line here—no, I know I’m way out of line, but I figure as long as I’m being brutally honest, I have to tell you that I’ve spent these past few weeks damn near tied in knots from wanting you so badly. I wanted you and I thought I needed you, but I found out today that wanting and needing aren’t the same thing. Need’s not about sex, is it? Not really. Because today I needed you more than I’ve ever needed anyone, and you were there for me.” He forced a smile. “And what do you know? We had our clothes on the entire time.”
He touched her hair, touched the softness of her cheek. “Look at me,” he said. “Still putting the moves on you. We’ve reached an understanding, made an agreement. We’ve achieved a friendship of sorts, and I still can’t seem to back away. I still want you more than I’ve ever wanted any woman.”
She was trembling. He knew damn well that kissing her wasn’t the gallant, gentlemanly thing to do, but he couldn’t keep himself from lowering his mouth to hers.
She tasted so sweet, so perfect. Her lips were deliciously soft, exquisitely inviting. He pulled her closer, and the tautness of her belly pressed against him. He loved the way she felt beneath his hands, loved the way she seemed to sigh and melt against him as he kissed her again, deeper, longer, but just as slowly and gently.
“Come inside,” she whispered. Her eyes were soft and dreamy as she gazed up at him. “Please?” Her fingers were laced through his hair, and she tugged his head down toward her to kiss him again.
She kissed him.
Cowboy knew he should turn and walk away. He knew nothing had changed. He was still going to have to leave tomorrow. But hell, it was entirely possible that she was doing this because he was leaving.
He broke free from her kiss. “Mel, are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Yes. It wasn’t something he needed to hear twice.
She took his hand and drew him into the house. She didn’t say another word as she led him toward the stairs and up to her bedroom.
Cowboy felt compelled to speak. “Honey, I don’t have any condoms. Again.”
She glanced back at him. “Jones, it’s not as if you’re going to get me pregnant,” she said. “Again.”
“Still, I was reading this whole huge debate about whether or not women should have sexual relations in the eighth and ninth months of their pregnancies,” he told her. “The consensus was unless the pregnancy was high risk, anything goes. Except there was a minority who seemed to think unprotected sex increased the risk of potential infection to the baby.”
She’d gone into her room without turning the light on and now stood there in the moonlight, gazing at him. “Sometimes I think you go a teeny bit overboard with your research. My garden, for instance. It looks as if it’s ready for a Siberian winter. All I really needed was someone to clear out the dead plants and throw down a little mulch.” A smile softened her words. “Thank you for taking care of it, by the way.”
“You’re welcome. But yeah,” he agreed, “I’ve definitely read far more than I should have about the potential dangers of pregnancy. Eclampsia. God. Just the thought of it scares me to death.”
Damn, he was nervous. He’d wanted her for so long, but now all he could do was stand here and talk. Yada, yada, yada. He couldn’t seem to make himself shut up. He cleared his throat, fighting the urge to ask her about her blood pressure. She was fine. He knew she was fine. With the exception of the relentless morning sickness she suffered, she was healthy. Melody’s was not a high-risk pregnancy. He’d already discussed it with Brittany, and she’d reassured him. She was a nurse; she should know.
He cleared his throat again. “May I lock your door?”
Melody nodded. “Please.”
The door had an old-fashioned hook-and-eye lock, and he fastened it. It wouldn’t do much against an invading horde, but for privacy, it would work just fine. When he turned around, she was closing the curtains. Without the moonlight, the room was very, very dark. He switched on the light.
“Oh,” she said, “please don’t.”
He turned it off. She must’ve had some kind of room-darkening shades because it was nearly as dark in there as it had been down at 175 feet in the quarry. “Mel, I’m going to need night-vision glasses to see you.”
She was a disembodied voice, lost in the shadows on the other side of the room. “That’s the idea.”
“Oh, come on. Weren’t you paying attention to any- thing I said downstairs on the porch?”
“Yes,” she said. “And it got you this far. It was…very nice. But… You know that cover Demi Moore did for Vanity Fair when she was pregnant?”
“You mean the one where she was naked?”
“Yeah. Pregnant and naked. She looked amazingly beautiful.” She paused. “I don’t look anything like that.”
Cowboy had to laugh. “How will I ever know?”
She laughed, too. She had a musical laugh that brushed over him like velvet in the darkness. “My point exactly.”
“How about we turn on the light in the bathroom? Nothing too bright?”
“How about you come over here?”
It was an invitation he couldn’t refuse. He moved toward her, sensing more than seeing that she’d climbed into bed. He reached for her, and with an explosion of pleasure, discovered that in the darkness she’d rid herself of her clothes. Every last little stitch was gone.
It was a total surprise, and as he touched her, he realized that with the lights off and the room so very dark, his other senses were heightened. Making love in the dark this way might not have been exactly what he’d wanted, but it was going to be very, very, very good.
He kissed her, her skin smooth beneath his still-exploring fingers. Her breasts were so full, they rested on the enormous bulge of her belly—the bulge that held their baby.
She moaned as he kissed her harder, deeper, filling her mouth with his tongue and his hands with the softness of her breasts. Her nipples were hard peaks pressed against the palms of his hands, a sensation that was impossibly delicious.
And apparently, it felt as good from Melody’s end.
She pulled his shirt free from the waist of his pants, slipping her hands underneath and sliding her fingers up along the muscles of his chest as they knelt there together on her bed.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to touch you like this,” she whispered. “All those weeks of watching you run around with hardly any clothes on…”
Cowboy had to laugh. All this time, he’d thought she’d become immune to damn near everything he’d thought he had working in his favor.
He ran his hands lightly dow
n her stomach, marveling at the way it seemed to bloom from her body. The rest of her was still slender. It was true, she’d put on a few extra pounds since Paris, but he’d thought she was a bit too skinny before. She felt good beneath his hands—so soft and utterly, thoroughly feminine. He strained to see her in the darkness, but though his eyes had tried to adjust, he still couldn’t see a damn thing.
She kissed him as she tugged at his shirt, breaking off to say, “I’m feeling very much as if I’m the only one naked here.”
“That’s because you are. And, to be honest, I like it. There’s a real hint of a master-slave thing to it,” he teased. He lowered his head to draw one hard bud of a nipple into his mouth as his hand explored lower, sweeping beneath the taut curve of her stomach, his fingers encountering her soft nest of curls. Talk about a turn-on. She was ready for him, slick with heat and desire, and as he touched her, first lightly, then harder, deeper, she clung to him.
“Master and slave, huh?” Her voice was breathless. “In that case—slave, take off your clothes.”
Cowboy cracked up. Damn, he couldn’t get enough of this girl. He yanked his shirt over his head, then kissed her, pulling her back with him onto the bed, careful, so careful to be gentle.
He felt her fingers fumble with the buckle of his belt, and he tortured himself for a moment, just letting her knuckles brush against him as she worked to get him free. There was no way she’d ever figure out how to unfasten that belt—certainly not in this blanket of darkness, and probably not even in the light.
“Jones…”
He reached down with one hand and released the catch.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
It took her next to forever to unfasten the button. And he was so aroused, it took her another eon to work the zipper down, and then…
She didn’t touch him. Damn, she didn’t touch him! She dragged his pants and his shorts down his legs instead, leaving him screaming with need, aching for her touch, and loving every minute of the way she always kept him guessing.
Melody pulled off his boots one by one, and he wished for the zillionth time that it wasn’t so damned dark. He would’ve loved to have watched.
Tall, Dark and Dangerous Vol 1: Tall, Dark and FearlessTall, Dark and Devastating Page 98
