Compromising Positions

by Jenna Bayley-Burke

  Sophie kissed David pertly on the nose and rolled him off of her. “Now that we’ve thoroughly mortified David by making him simulate sex in front of his father, I’ll collect your questions and see how The Perfumed Garden can help you.”

  ———

  The students loved her idea, almost as much as they loved Tessa and Lance’s announcement about an advanced class. Their questions were endless tonight, but Sophie had stayed out front, answering them all.

  Closing the door behind the last of them, she retreated to her office, expecting to find David with his feet on her desk like he owned the place. Which he now did. Instead she found the keys to her truck on top of her desk and the words see you at home scrawled on a note.

  Chuckling to herself, she bundled up and collected her things, noticing he’d swiped the folder with the houses and her strawberries. He’d better not eat them without her.

  Her SUV was right outside the front door, the yoga mats already on the seat that had been pulled all the way forward. Climbing inside, she noticed a sticky note on the stereo panel. We need to get a song written on it.

  God he was cute, too cute really. Sophie smiled to herself as she started the truck and made her way back to her apartment. They were going to be okay. Maybe she’d go with him on his trip. As long as they could make it back for the holidays. She didn’t want to miss Kinsey’s first Christmas.

  Spending every day together they could really talk, figure out just where they wanted to go. She still needed time to figure out what she wanted to do with her career. With the money from the sale of Working It Out she could go into business for herself, or take him up on one of his offers.

  Sophie knocked before letting herself into her apartment. Opening the door, her eyes widened as she took in her living room bathed in candlelight. Tiny tea lights flickered from every surface. The room seemed warmer than usual and filled with an amazing cinnamon aroma.

  Her grin stretched while she peeled off her jacket and gloves. As David stepped out of the bedroom wearing his tuxedo, Sophie noticed candlelight flickering in there too. She’d heard make up sex was supposed to be good, but this was going to be exceptional.

  “I’m underdressed.” She smiled as he approached.

  “You can change if you want, but not into that red dress. That thing short-circuits my brain. And if you take off your clothes, I doubt I’ll let you put any back on.”

  She loved the way the light danced with the desire in his eyes.

  “Why didn’t you dance with me at Daphne and Craig’s wedding?”

  Where is that coming from? “I told you, I had to take care of my mom.”

  “How long is a song, Sophie? Three minutes? Why wouldn’t you dance with me?”

  She looked at the floor. Not now. “I don’t know how.”

  “I thought you said you didn’t lie.”

  “Really.” She looked into his eyes. “I don’t know how. I never went to school dances or out to clubs or anything. It was never a priority.”

  “I’m not buying it. I’ve seen the way you move. You teach aerobics classes.”

  “Ah,” she raised a finger, “I teach yoga and Pilates, neither of which requires rhythm.”

  She had him there. “So you’ll learn.”

  “I could, I guess. I didn’t know you liked to dance.”

  “I don’t. I only dance at weddings.”

  “Another rule?” she teased, stepping closer. “You know what I think of your rules.”

  “I think you’ll want to leave this one unbroken.” He looked down at her, framing her face with his hands. “Take off your shoes.”

  “What?” she asked, shaking his hands free.

  “Take off your shoes.”

  “I heard you,” she said, kicking off her sneakers. “Why?”

  He lifted her up, setting her feet down on top of his own.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Teaching you to dance,” he said, wrapping an arm around her waist.

  “I thought the object was to not step on your feet.”

  “This is how I taught Kelly to dance. I only know one way,” he said as he began to guide her around the living room floor.

  “That’s sweet.” She stretched to wrap her arms around his neck.

  “Nah, it was purely selfish. If she could dance at family weddings I could avoid my dad’s sisters. This is selfish, too. From now on, you can dance with me at weddings and save me from the bridesmaids.”

  From now on. She liked the sound of that. Whether he meant it like she did or not.

  “I’ll get some really high heels.”

  “I got you a present.”

  “I like presents.” Especially now that he understood the difference between a present and a major purchase.

  “It’s in my pocket.”

  “I really like that present,” she said, reaching her hands into his pants pockets and rubbing her hands along his hard thighs. “Hey, there really is something in here!” she squealed pulling the box from his pocket and stepping back.

  She tried to breathe as she stared at the tiny burgundy box. Earrings, she chanted to herself. Don’t look disappointed. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. She didn’t want it to be earrings.

  When she opened her eyes he was down on one knee. For a change, she was looking down at him. He reached for the box. She pressed her hands together, realizing that without the box they were shaking.

  “Dance with me at our wedding, Sophie.”

  Her eyes filled as her emotions swelled within her. When did he change his mind? The world blurred before her as she blinked, meeting him on the floor. Her mouth found his as she tried to communicate all the sensations coursing through her body.

  He pulled back, framing her face with his hands. “You’ve got to say it, Sophie.”

  She opened her eyes as his thumbs brushed the tears away. “I’ll dance,” she breathed more than said.

  He smiled. “Close enough.”

  Epilogue

  “Daddy, wake up,” the familiar voice said. Tossing to his side, David knew he was dreaming. It had been so long since he’d had the nightmare, he’d almost forgotten about it. Almost.

  Just walk around to the other side of the bed and get in.

  “Daddy!”

  Walk around, he told himself again. But something was different. He couldn’t see Lance, the room was too dark.

  “Daddy!”

  The dream would go on forever if he didn’t get in the bed. If he couldn’t see he’d just feel his way in. David stuck out his arms, reaching for the edge of the bed. His fingers touched warm skin and his eyes shot open.

  Tyler. He wasn’t dreaming.

  “I went potty all by myself. You have to tuck me in.”

  His hands cupped the little face in awe, focusing on the pale blue eyes. Sophie’s eyes. He pulled the boy as close as he could, pulling the boy’s scent into his lungs until he thought they would burst.

  “Daddy, no. Not with you. In my bed. Mommy said you would.”

  Mommy. Where was Sophie? Without putting the boy down, David checked the bed. “Where’s Mommy?”

  “Feeding Bella. She said you would tuck me in.” David breathed in the smell that was Tyler—soap, grass and peanut butter. The boy loved to eat.

  Finally, David set him on the ground and let himself be led through the home they’d built together over a decade ago. He could hear Sophie humming softly in the nursery. Isabel was almost one. Sophie should really let her cry it out the way the books said to. Like that was going to happen.

  Tyler pulled him past Natalie and Phoebe’s room with the matching canopy beds, to the last room at the end of the hall. Tyler’s eyes closed as soon as he was tucked beneath the tattered red afghan on his race car bed. Before leaving, David stepped across the room and kissed Dustin’s smooth cheek. Shampoo, grass and grape jelly.

  When they slept only Sophie could tell Tyler and Dustin apart. Everyone thought they were i
dentical twins, but doctors claimed they were fraternal. Their eyes the only tell. Tyler was the only one of the kids to get Sophie’s eyes. So far.

  Closing the door softly behind him, David saw her coming out of the nursery. Sophie must have caught the look in his eye because she ran to their bedroom. By the time he locked the door, she had rounded the bed.

  “Isabel’s asleep?”

  Her eyes narrowed as he approached the bed. “David, I told you earlier. Not tonight, I’m ovulating.”

  He smiled wide. “I know what you said. You said six.” And he wanted to give her everything she ever wanted. And more.

  She was fighting a smile. “I’m the one home with five kids under the age of ten.”

  “Tyler’s the only one with blue eyes. I need another shot at it.”

  “That’s your argument?” Her quiet laugh was sexy as ever.

  David shrugged. “It worked last time.” He put a knee on the bed, but she backed to the far end of the room.

  “It was a weak moment. You were wearing a tux. It short-circuited my brain.”

  Kelly’s wedding. That was when they’d conceived Isabel. “I could change.”

  “No. If you take off your clothes I doubt I’ll let you put any back on.”

  Thank goodness, she was considering it. He rounded the bed to her side, but she scampered over the top. Standing on top of the bed, she was taller than him. Barely. “Two more days, then we’re in the clear again.”

  Sophie and her rhythm birth control method. Phoebe was proof of how well that worked. He hooked his hands behind her knees, pulling her legs out from under her. As she landed on her back, he climbed on the bed, keeping her there. He bent his head, tasting the skin just beneath her ear.

  “Diversion. I taught you that.” Sophie giggled, turning her head to grant him better access.

  “What have I taught you?” he whispered, finding the place on her neck where he could taste her pulse as it beat faster.

  “You want to play show,” reaching her legs up, she slid her toes into the waistband of the pajama pants he’d started wearing when Natalie learned to walk and slid them down his legs, “or tell?”

  About the Author

  Jenna Bayley-Burke is a domestic engineer, freelance writer, award-winning recipe developer, romance novelist, cookbook author and freebie fanatic. Blame it on television, a high-sugar diet or ADD; she finds life too interesting to commit to one thing—except her high-school sweetheart, two blueberry-eyed boys and a perfect baby girl. Her stories, both naughty and nice, are available everywhere. To learn more about Jenna Bayley-Burke, please visit www.jennabayleyburke.com.

  Look for these titles by Jenna Bayley-Burke

  Now Available:

  Her Cinderella Complex

  Par For The Course

  Her lies may be satin, but his revenge is pure steel.

  Satin Lies

  © 2008 Tricia Jones

  Eight years ago, Faye Benedict discovered she was pregnant with Enrico Lavini’s baby. Knowing Enrico didn’t love her, she turned to his brother for a marriage of convenience. Now an accident has taken her husband and stolen her memory. Slowly, as her memory returns, she is forced to confront the past and the deception that helped tear a family apart.

  As head of an Italian banking dynasty, Enrico considers it his duty and responsibility to protect his estranged brother’s widow and child. The feelings he once had for Faye are safely buried beneath the weight of the past. But as long-hidden secrets are exposed, his role as protector transmutes into that of avenger, and Faye is forced to suffer the consequences as he exacts his own particular brand of revenge—marriage.

  Yet underneath the hurt lies a soul-deep love that will not be denied. Love that only the truth can heal.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Satin Lies:

  “I heard you have kept yourself busy rearranging the library. I only hope you have not taxed yourself unnecessarily.”

  “I haven’t, and it was in need of some restructuring.” Talk, she thought. It was easier when she talked. Then she didn’t have to focus on the way her heart thumped. “Do you know you have first editions going to rack and ruin, not to mention collections that need only one or two books to complete them. Acquire the missing books and the value of the whole collection could most likely double in price, triple even.”

  Enrico listened with an indulgent glint in his eye. “Interesting.” He pursed his lips. “But make sure you get enough rest.”

  Talking wasn’t doing much good, Faye realized, as sensations sizzled through her. She gripped the ledger until her fingers hurt. “I’m bored silly just sitting around here all day. Everyone watches me like a hawk, at your instruction no doubt. Besides, by doing this I feel I can pay you back in some way.”

  His brow creased. “Pay me back?”

  “For your kindness in allowing us to stay here.”

  He threw his jacket over a nearby chair. “Please do not insult me, cara.”

  Before she registered his intention, he’d snatched the ledger from her arms, his gaze falling to her breasts. “If I required payment from you I would demand it by more interesting means.”

  He dropped the ledger onto a side table where it fell with a resounding thud. Then, quick as a beat, he had her breath jerking from her lungs as he grabbed her arms and pulled her against him.

  “And would you make such payment, Faye?” He caught her chin when she tried to turn away. “I wonder what price would my kindness be worth to you? Exactly how high a price would you be willing to pay?”

  Hot blood raced through her, burning her veins. She looked at his throat, that thick tanned column that made her mouth water. He jerked her chin giving her no option but to look in his eyes.

  “Stop it.” She damned herself for the weakness in her voice. “I only meant—”

  He gave her chin another jerk until their mouths were a breath away. “What exactly did you mean, Faye? Did you think that by insulting me, by offering me payment for your board and lodgings, I would keep my distance?”

  His breath feathered over her lips, sending waves of awareness down her spine. “No, of course not.”

  Suddenly his arms were around her and she was pressed against him. The hard, muscled strength of him seeping through her until her frenzied brain demanded he finish what he undoubtedly intended to start.

  Kiss me, she willed him. Oh, God, just kiss me.

  “Perhaps I have kept my distance for too long,” he ground out. “I should have dealt with this years ago, made things right.”

  A mad joy hovered at the edges of her heart. “What are you saying?”

  His eyes bored into hers, his voice deep and rough. “We made love,” he said as if it was something that might have slipped her mind. “Here in this room. Then you went to London, married my brother, and I never had the chance to make things right.”

  The self-reproach in his tone poured icy water on her hopes. “What do you mean?” she asked her voice flat. “How did you expect to make things right?”

  “I should have formally apologized to you for what happened, made sure you knew it was not your fault. That I—”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Faye shook herself out of his arms, not even trying to cloak her anger. “You apologized all right. In fact, that’s all you did do, over and over. Told me how sorry you were.”

  “You belonged to my brother. I had no right to take from you what was rightfully his.” He shook his head. “I had no right.”

  She poked a finger into his granite chest. “Get this, Enrico. I don’t belong to anyone. And what I do—did—with my body is my business. It’s my right to decide who gets what.”

  She stopped, dragging in much needed oxygen while she fought against the urge to tell him that if anyone had a right he did. He had every right. He was the father of her child. The only man she had ever loved. The man she loved still and always would.

  “You are angry. You do not know what you are saying.”

  �
��I’m angry all right. Do you know why? Do you?” She poked him in the chest again. “Because I’m sick and tired of you insinuating I don’t know who I am or what I want. I’m bloody fed up with you always telling me how I feel, what’s good for me.” She dragged in more air, her chest rising and falling with the effort. “I’ve had enough of this, Enrico. I’ve so had enough of this.”

  His expression darkened. Nostrils flaring, chest heaving. He glared at her as if she were the devil incarnate.

  Then he swore…and his mouth came down on hers.

  No tenderness. No tentative play of lips. Just possession. Fierce and brutal.

  And she was more than a match for it. Her fingers spiked into his hair, pulling his head down to take more. She wanted more…more… She wanted to pour into their kiss every long, lonely, aching moment of those eight years without him.

  Harsh breathing filled the air, punctured only by fractured mutterings of pleasure—of encouragement. Not that Enrico needed any. His body pressed against hers, the hard, muscled strength of his arms keeping her close, allowing her little space to move.

  Possessive hands slid down her back, molding her curves. Those long fingers dug in, squeezing and lifting until her pelvis was cradled tight to his. She tried to shimmy, but he held her too firmly.

  The heat was so intense she marveled that she didn’t simply combust on the spot.

  Without knowing why, she pulled back.

  She gasped for air and watched him do the same. It was fear that had made her stop. She was scared. Though not of him. Never of him. It was the situation. The consequences.

  She was scared of her lies, her treachery. What had they done? She and Teo. What had they stolen from Enrico? If they made love now she would have to tell him. She wouldn’t be able to stop herself telling him. And once he knew the truth he might never forgive her.