Deadly Valentine

by Jenna Harte

  “I won't let you. Who knows, maybe I'm the one who's no good. Or maybe, we'll discover that we're both pretty good.”

  He kissed her cheek, letting his lips trail down to her jaw, her neck. "We won't know until we try."

  His breath whispered, teased at the nape of her neck. The fire that had been anger and humiliation changed, melted into liquid heat surging through her veins, creating a need, an ache that nearly dropped her to her knees. What would it hurt to give in, she wondered as his lips and hands coaxed her out of her resistance. Every woman should have at least one night in her life in which she was ravished by a nearly perfect man, right?

  Once again her sweater was gone without her really knowing how. It was hopeless to fight and well, she didn't want to. What she wanted was to let go of her inhibition and enjoy what he could give her. Maybe if she gave in this once, just got it over with, she could let herself go. Live a little. Maybe even love a little, like she used to.

  “Okay, okay,” she said letting her hands find his chest again, savoring its heat and strength. “You win.”

  He took her hands, stilled them in his own. “You need to be sure, Tess”

  Annoyed that he stopped, that he could stop, she said, “I said okay. Let's get this over with.”

  His eyes darkened as they dropped her hands. “Is that how you feel? It's a chore to get out of the way?”

  “What? No.” There was a new kind of panic now. A panic that he'd change his mind. That he'd reject her after all.

  She reached for him, but he took a step back, shook his head. “You sure know how to kill a mood, Tess.”

  "Wait. I thought you wanted me?"

  "More than anything. Christ I ache with it. But not like this. You have to want it, really want it too." He didn't wait for her response. Instead he turned, strode out of the room and up the hall to her bathroom.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  She stood, stunned as Jack walked away from her. How could he kiss and touch her like that, for the purpose of getting her hot and bothered, and then just turn it off when the wrong thing came out of her mouth? She shook her head as she tried to understand what happened. She knew she said the wrong thing, but it wasn't what she meant. Being with him could never be a chore.

  She heard the wood in the fire as it broke apart, the flames dying away. It was a metaphor for the moment, she decided. But she knew if she poked at the logs she could rekindle the fire. Could she do the same for the spark that was dying between her and Jack? Could she fan the flames?

  If she intended to try, she needed a plan. She was no prude, but neither was she an experienced seductress. If she had time, she would have called Kate for a crash course in seducing a man. Instead she'd have to find her inner-feminine wiles on her own.

  To start with, she needed to change. The La Perla lingerie she acquired earlier in the day would be a good start. Going to her bedroom she stripped off the rest of her clothes and pulled the lacy black and red undergarments from the top drawer of her dresser. She slipped them on quickly and checked herself in the mirror. Remembering what he said at the ice cream shop, she pulled the pins from her hair and shook out the curls. It improved the wanton look, but did nothing to give her the long-legged lingerie model look.

  Acting on an idea, she went to her closet. Looking up on the shelf, she realized the box was too high. Grabbing an empty clothes hanger, she reached up and was just able to slip the end under the box's lid. She pulled and the red stilettos tumbled along with the box that had held them for three years since she'd last worn them. She tugged them on, wincing as they pinched her toes. Hopefully she wouldn't be wearing them for long.

  Testing a few poses she hoped looked sexy, she took a deep breath and headed to the bathroom.

  “Are you decent?” she asked through the slightly ajar door.

  “You're joking right?” His voice was tight.

  She pushed the door open to find him standing over the sink, a hand resting on each side of the basin, his head hanging. Drops of water clung to his face. A version of the cold shower she suspected.

  “I can help you with that.” Had she pulled off sounding sultry?

  “You've done enough already," he grumbled.

  “Jack.” She tried to coo.

  “Give me a damn minute!”

  Normally, the outburst would have deflated her confidence, but for some reason in this case it annoyed her. “For goodness sake, don't be a martyr. I can help you with that. I want to help you with that.”

  He turned his head. His eyes flashed then narrowed as they took a long slide over her bra, lacy underwear, and red heels. Slowly they made their way back up to her face.

  “You’re the devil you know that?” He grabbed her arms and yanked her hard against his body. He brought his mouth within an inch of hers. “I’m going to torture you. Just like you torture me.” He lightly bit her bottom lip, tugged on it as he eased her into the bedroom.

  “I haven’t tortured you-”

  “Think again.” He slid his hand over her backside and pulled her to him so she could feel just how tortured he was. “I’m going to take you up and up and then I’ll back off and let you hang, in agony.”

  “Won't that leave you hanging too?” She tried to sound unfazed by his promise, but her voice sounded breathless even to her. The tension radiating from his body reverberated through her own. She wrapped her arms around him and clung, savoring the energy, the excitement.

  His lips trailed along her jaw until he nibbled on her ear. “And I will continue to torture you until you are sobbing, begging for me to end it.”

  “So get on with it already." For a moment she was afraid she'd made the same mistake that had nearly ended their interlude earlier. Fortunately, he didn't seem to be listening to her.

  “And when I’m done, you’ll scream my name…” His lips moved down nibbling her collar bone and shoulders.

  “I’m not a screamer-”

  “You will scream my name. And you will finally know what it means to be with me.”

  She snorted at his alpha male impression.

  “Are you laughing at me?” He didn't look mad, although she wouldn't have said he was amused.

  She couldn't answer because she found herself unceremoniously tossed on the bed. She was sure her bounce didn't exude sexiness. Quickly she maneuvered herself into a position she hoped looked inviting.

  She watched him in fascination as he stripped off his shirt, tossing it aside. Perhaps he talked like an alpha male because he looked like one, she thought. He toed off his shoes as he undid his belt buckle.

  She reached down to remove her shoes.

  “Leave them,” he said as he tossed a strip of foil packets he'd removed from his pocket onto her bedside table.

  “They could be dangerous,” she said holding up one leg to show him the spiked, four-inch dagger-like heel.

  He reached for her leg, kissed her ankle. “Leave them.”

  She swallowed hard as his lips and his fingers on her ankle nearly undid her. He released her leg to unhook his pants, removing his socks as he shook off his pants. He stood in black briefs that didn't do anything to hide his intentions.

  “If you're going to have second thoughts," he said as he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of the briefs, "Now is the time.”

  “You're delaying the inevitable here, Valentine.” She didn't know where the bravado came from, but she felt liberated by it. She didn't know if it was the underwear, the shoes or the man, but she couldn't remember ever feeling so sexy.

  He took his time, letting the anticipation draw out. She tried to keep her eyes on his face as the briefs moved lower, but she couldn't help herself. She had to look. She let her eyes travel down…

  Oh my, she thought. I am a lucky girl.

  When her eyes returned to his, he seemed pleased by her reaction. In a moment of insecurity she wondered if he liked what he saw as much as she did. But she didn't have time to worry about it when he joined her on the bed, tuggi
ng her to him.

  “I like the underwear, Tess,” he said as two fingers skimmed over the swell of her breast and slipped under the bra strap. “Now take it off.”

  Jack was equal parts thrilled and terrified. He finally had the woman he'd loved for so long in arms, but feared she'd change her mind any moment. His initial need to torment her morphed into the desire to let her know that he understood the significance of what she was giving him.

  His hands cupped her face, his lips and tongue coaxed. He pulled back to take a breath and to be sure she still wanted this. Wanted him. In her eyes he saw desire and need as great as his own. He dipped his head, kissed her again as he skimmed the palm of his hand over her breast. He felt it bead. Heard her quick intake of breath as she arched, filling his hand with her breast, giving herself over to him. The power of that, of this smart, strong, compelling woman submitting awed and overwhelmed him. Never before had it been so important for him to let a woman know through his touch how much she mattered.

  His lips trailed along her jaw, cascaded down her neck, over her heart and then drew the hard peak of her breast into his mouth. He felt her heart quicken, savored the sound of his name as it escaped her lips. He let his hands roam every softness, every curve. She was perfection.

  He was surprised by the flash of nerves as he undressed her. It was so important that he did this right. She lay before him, the moon casting a glow that made her look ethereal, almost as if she were a vision. "Beautiful."

  Tess wasn't inexperienced when it came to men, but this, what Jack was doing to her was foreign. His touch elicited sensations she'd never felt. Not just sexual feelings, but something deep, soul deep. As if his caress, his kiss were awakening something inside her. She wanted desperately to touch him, to know him as intimately as he was getting to know her. Her hands explored his back, feeling the muscles as they tightened and released. She marveled at his chest, sliding her hands through the mat of hair and following them with her lips. His hitch of breath encouraged her. She inventoried his body. Strong. Hard. Lean.

  She could feel him hard and heavy against her thigh and wanted to hold that power in her hand. She pushed him on his side and slid her hand lower. He moaned and for a minute she thought he'd stop her. Instead he shifted, giving her full access to his hard length. Her fingers wrapped around him, and she watched the reaction on his face.

  "I think I might embarrass myself," he said.

  "I have faith in your control."

  "Clearly you don't know your own power." She'd never considered her sexual power before. She wondered if that was what he'd awakened. Before she could ponder it any longer, she was on her back, his body pressing her into the mattress.

  "Tess." Her name was a whisper on his lips. His hand slid down her thigh, hooked her knee and lifted. She responded, opening to him, inviting him.

  His darkened blue-green eyes mesmerized her. Then his hips shifted, and he was in her, a part of her. The swell of emotion and pleasure was too much. He moved once and she came apart in his arms, grabbing on to him as if he was the only thing keeping her from shattering into a million pieces.

  "Amazing."

  She opened her eyes to find him staring back at her. Talk about embarrassing, she thought. She was the one without control and he had watched as the orgasm slammed through her. But he didn't give her time to recover. He took her mouth, this time more savagely than before.

  "More," he whispered in a harsh breath as he pressed deeper.

  More? She felt like a wet noodle. She didn't think she had more to give. But she wanted to return the favor. Finding her strength, she pushed him back. He growled when their bodies lost contact.

  "My turn," she cooed. She hovered over him, in control. She could see it wasn't easy for him, but he allowed it. She sank over him, pleased when he groaned. Setting the pace, she moved, taking him slowly, deeply. He grabbed her waist, forcing her to move faster, but she took his hands, pushed them over his head. "My turn."

  Holding his hands hostage above him, her breasts fell over his face. Not missing a beat he took one in his mouth. She felt the sensations right down to her core. Perhaps there was more after all, she thought. She shifted so she could kiss him, their mouths connecting as intimately as their bodies.

  "Tess." Her name came out on an uneven breath. She took it as a sign and let go, giving him exactly what he wanted. His hands freed, he slid them up her thighs. One thumb found and pressed against her center. It seemed impossible, but his touch sent a firestorm of sensation as powerful as the first. Her body contracted around him, drew him in.

  His hips bucked, and she could feel the power of his release. It heightened her own and together they rode out the storm.

  Laying limp on his chest, Tess focused on the feel of his heartbeat as it thundered against her cheek. "As soon as I can feel my arms, I'll move."

  "Don't you dare," he said, his breath sounding as labored as hers. It was several minutes later when he said. "Well, we've answered two questions."

  "Really?"

  "First, we fit. We fit really, really well."

  Tess lifted her head and grinned.

  "Second, you're very good."

  She blushed.

  "You can tell me....was I alright?"

  She nodded, "Yes, you were alright."

  He gave her gentle slap on her backside. "Be nice."

  "I thought I just was."

  He grinned. "There's still one thing we haven't settled."

  "What's that?"

  "You haven't screamed my name." He rolled, wrapped her legs around his waist, and did his best to make her scream.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Reading romance books and knowing Jack's reputation, Tess had high expectations of his abilities in the bedroom. And he didn't disappoint. Tess was certain no other man, real or fictional was as skilled or imaginative in bed than Jack. He hadn't made her scream, but at one point, she was pretty sure she begged. Finding her inner-seductress again several hours later, she returned the favor. He didn't scream or beg, but it sounded to her like he was praying when he chanted “Sweet Jesus” over and over.

  But aside from the exquisite pleasure he'd given her, Jack had shown her a gentleness and giving that she thought only existed in romance novels. At times it was so sweet and pure it terrified her with its intensity. So much so she was afraid it was more than she could handle. She'd long ago given up on the idea of love or ever after. Even as she took Jack to her bed, her mind was adamant that it was nothing more than an attraction between two friends. But somewhere in the middle of the night, when he held her, rocked with her, whispered his affection for her, the wall around her heart cracked and the possibility of love seeped in.

  She'd been too weak to guard against it. And as the first rays of dawn slipped through the window, she watched him sleep and wondered if something real could exist between them. Maybe he meant everything he said during the night. Maybe it would be safe to open her heart again and believe in love. In the dimly lit cocoon in which only the two of them existed, it seemed possible.

  But they didn't live in a cocoon. They lived in a world that had been picked up and turned on its side since the night Asa was murdered. Looking at Jack now, his face relaxed and peaceful, he didn't look like he had a care in the world. But the truth was very different. A revelation about his parentage challenged how he thought of himself. A betrayal by the people he'd trusted all his life rocked his faith in the man he'd become. On top of it all, he was the prime suspect in Asa's murder.

  Yet despite it all, he had the ability to not let things keep him down. Not that he ignored or denied them. And it wasn't that he never got angry. He just didn't let bad happenings dominate his life. He could let the negative go and instead focus on what was good. He could be positive even when the glass was only a quarter full. It was a skill she admired, but wasn't sure she was brave enough to pursue.

  She wasn't ready to let the magic of the night go and yet, she knew she had to. Eventually they
would have to leave the sanctuary of her bed and face the challenges that were before them. Resigned to that fact, she slipped quietly from the bed, trying to ignore the sense of loss that the day after brought.

  Gathering some clothes, she headed to the shower. When she re-entered her room, dressed in a wool suit, with her hair pulled back, and make-up set, she found him looking rested, sated even, as he lounged her bed.

  “Can't you play hooky for a day?” he asked. She was tempted. The bed looked warm and inviting while the outdoors, even with its blue sky looked bitter cold. Of course it wasn't everyday she had a sexy, talented, naked man in her bed inviting her to join him. But if she was anything, she was conscientious about her work.

  “I have important clients, one of whom I'm trying to keep out of prison.” She slipped a necklace round her neck and checked her appearance in the mirror.

  “If I go to prison, will you arrange conjugal visits?”

  “Sure. Just let me know who to send.”

  “You won't come?”

  “Do I look like the kind of woman to have sex in a prison,” she said turning to look at him.

  He studied her as if he was pondering the question. “I learned a lot about what kind of woman you are last night, but having sex in a prison isn't one of them.”

  She flashed him a grin. “In that case, I should go to work.”

  “Before you go,” he reached out to take her hand.

  She'd intended to sit on the edge of the bed for a goodbye kiss. But in an instant she was flat on her back with a very hot, very naked man pressing her into the mattress, thoroughly kissing her. She might have protested if it occurred to her.

  "When I woke up and you weren't here, I thought it was all a dream," he said.

  "You must have wonderful dreams."

  He grinned. "Then when you came out dressed in your grave-looking business suit, I was afraid you had regrets."

  "Grave? And how could I regret last night? I seduced you, remember?"

  "How about a replay, just to be sure?"

  "I -" before she could complete her sentence, he was using his lips to make a compelling argument for her to stay.