Emeralds, Rubies, and Camouflage

by Olivia Jaymes

  “I don’t think you could ever be disrespectful.”

  Holt snorted and laughed. “You’ve never seen me in court. I’ll have to take you sometime. You’ll be singing a different tune afterward. You might even call me a real shit.”

  Laughter bubbled from her full, pink lips and his chest suddenly felt too tight. Myra was becoming so much more to him than just an assistant. She’d become a friend. Someone he could trust. If only he didn’t crave more.

  “We’ll see,” she teased as the waiter placed their entrees in front of them. “Thank you for bringing me today, by the way. I’m having a good time.”

  “So am I. You’re good company.” The conversation had turned way too personal. “So let’s talk about Amelia’s birthday. What did you have in mind?”

  At this moment Holt would have given anything in the world to have met this woman at another time and place. Back before…when he was still a man who believed in love and happily ever after.

  The plain and simple truth was – no matter how much hope he carried inside – that simply wasn’t in the cards for him.

  Chapter Seven

  ‡

  “Uno!”

  Amelia held up her last playing card, a wide smile on her adorable face. She’d had her bath, brushed her teeth, and was wearing her pink pajamas with a bunny on the front of the shirt. Myra’s throat seemed to grow tight as she gazed at her daughter. She wanted to give Amelia the best life possible and so far working for Holt was a big step in the right direction.

  “Again?” Myra laughed as the three of them – herself, Holt, and Amelia sat at the table beside the pool. Holt had turned the outside lights on plus the tiny twinkling lights Bart had strung in the trees. It looked like a veritable fairyland that charmed not only Amelia but Myra as well. Fiona and Bart had a function to attend so after the long day in Key West, Holt had proclaimed it Chinese takeout night. They’d eaten outside under the full moon and stars, laughing and having a good time.

  Like a family. Except that Myra had to keep reminding herself that they weren’t and never would be.

  “It’s your turn, Mommy,” Amelia said, accidentally showing her one remaining card. A green number three.

  Myra had three cards left. A blue eight. A red five. And a green two. The card on top of the discard pile was a red two. Pretending to hem and haw about what to play, she finally plucked the green two from her hand and set it down on the stack.

  Holt waggled his eyebrows and fussed with his cards, moving them around in his hand, making quite a show of selecting his card. With a big sigh, he slapped down a green seven and gave Amelia a triumphant grin as if he was positive he would win.

  Amelia practically did a dance of glee. Smacking down her green three, she raised her arms in victory.

  “I won again,” she crowed. “I won.”

  “You certainly did.” Holt exchanged a glance with Myra and then shook his head as if he couldn’t figure out how the little girl did it. “You’re the best Uno player in this household that’s for sure. I could pick up a few tips from you.”

  Myra’s heart did a few flips in her chest. Holt was always so sweet and kind to Amelia. So patient.

  “I’ll help you, Holt. I’ll tell you which cards to play.” Amelia began gathering up the cards into a stack.

  “You can help Holt next time we play. It’s way after your bedtime. Little girls need their sleep.”

  Since tomorrow was a Saturday, Myra had let Amelia stay up an hour later than usual. She’d probably regret it tomorrow but they’d been having so much fun she hated to let it end.

  Amelia’s lower lip stuck right out, displaying her unhappiness. “Awww, Mommy. Can’t I stay up for one more game?”

  “Sorry, sweetheart. It’s long past bedtime. I should have put you in bed long ago.”

  “But–” Amelia’s protest was interrupted by a giant yawn. She’d be asleep the minute her head hit the pillow. Myra had lucked out in having a good sleeper for a daughter. Once she was asleep an earthquake wouldn’t wake her up.

  “How about a piggy-back ride upstairs?” Holt offered with a knowing wink to Myra. “I’ll be the horse and you can be the rider.”

  He’d said the magic words and the two of them pranced up the stairs with Myra right behind. He hovered in the doorway as she tucked her daughter into bed and exchanged hugs and kisses. Myra was backing toward the door when Amelia sat straight up in bed.

  “Not yet. Holt too.”

  His gaze swung to her and Myra nodded, her throat clogged with emotion as Holt hesitantly stepped forward. Amelia threw her arms around him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, uncaring of the scars there. When he pulled away, Myra swore she saw tears shimmering in his pale blue eyes, but then she had a few of her own to deal with.

  It felt so right. So good. All three of them spending time together. It was exactly how she’d dreamt it could be.

  “Night, sweetheart. We’ll see you in the morning.” Myra bid her daughter goodnight and closed the bedroom door quietly behind them as Amelia was already beginning to doze off.

  Myra and Holt stood awkwardly in the hallway, the tension between them uncomfortably thick. What had happened was too intense, giving rise to all sorts of feelings and urges that she’d ignored for too long.

  “She’ll be asleep in less than five minutes.”

  Hands shaking, she pushed back a few stray strands of hair and tucked them behind her ear. Holt’s gaze was zeroed in on her face, his eyes dark with some unnamed emotion.

  “She’s a wonderful little girl.”

  So deep and compelling, his voice sent an unwelcome shiver up her spine. This overwhelming attraction to Holt had her firmly in its control, unable to pull away or even move. Instead she threw caution to the wind and simply allowed herself to drink up his close proximity. The heat emanating from his body. The shower-clean smell of his skin. The way his muscles strained at the seams of his proper button-down shirts she now knew he wore to cover up his scars.

  Their gazes locked and she opened her mouth to say something…anything, but the words wouldn’t come. Want and need had taken control and they swirled and pitched in her abdomen as she found herself reaching out to touch him, aching to feel his flesh under her fingers. Her hand landed on his arm, so strong and firm and she clung to him like a lifeline in a storm.

  “Holt,” she whispered, taking a tentative step toward him for fear of rejection. She needn’t have worried as he too moved closer, pressing her against the wall, his body heat scorching through her clothes.

  “Myra, I need–” He didn’t finish his thought but instead bent his head to capture her lips with his own. She let her palms slide up his arms and around his neck as he kissed her urgently, dominating her senses. In that moment he was her whole world.

  Two weeks of pent-up longing came crashing down and she was helpless to resist. Clutching at his wide shoulders, she let her head loll to the side so his lips could venture further south. His tongue tickled a pulse point and a thousand butterflies were freed in her abdomen. Heat swept through her veins as his teeth nipped at the sensitive flesh of her shoulder. Her nipples, hard and pointed, rubbed against the lace of her bra and sent tingles straight to her clit.

  His hands, large and rough, cupped her face so she was looking up into his eyes. His chest rose and fell, his breath ragged.

  “Yes or no, Myra? If you don’t want this, send me away now because if I kiss you again I won’t have the strength to stop.”

  His voice was soft and low, his mouth near her ear. Her brain function was muddled at best but one thing was clear. She wanted Holt more than she wanted her next breath. She’d been fighting a losing battle, but what pleasure there was in surrendering.

  “Yes,” she sighed. “Yes.”

  *

  Blood roaring in his ears, Holt lifted Myra into his arms and carried her across the hall to her bedroom, laying her gently on the turned-down covers. She reached for the bedside lamp but his hand stayed her movements
. Tonight was so perfect he didn’t dare take a chance of letting her see him. What he’d become.

  Darkness was his friend.

  Always with the lights off, he’d had sex with women since the accident but never with someone he’d truly had feelings for. If anything it had been cold-blooded, calculated, a physical release. Two people closing their eyes and pretending they were with someone they gave a shit about.

  Tonight with this woman was completely the opposite.

  Holt was only sad that the lack of light would keep him from seeing her beautiful body. But he could touch it. Trace the curves with his hands and caress her soft skin, like satin. He wound his fingers in the long, silky strands of her hair, tipping her head back for another kiss.

  “Holt,” she sighed when he lifted his head, his heart pounding and his lungs starved for oxygen.

  He traced her lips with his tongue while his fingers went to work on the three buttons holding up her dress. They easily slid free and he tugged the fabric over her hips and down her legs, tossing the dress onto a chair next to the bed. Her panties were the next to go and he kissed her knees and toes as they glided down her legs. He kicked off his own shoes and knelt at the end of the bed.

  In the dim light he could make out her sweet curves and generous breasts. His cock swelled painfully against the zipper of his pants as he ran his hands up and down her body, tracing every line and curve so he could commit it to memory.

  Holt pressed open-mouthed kisses on her belly as he cupped her breasts. She moved restlessly underneath him as he trailed his tongue to her hard and pointed nipples. He traced circles around each of them before sucking one into his mouth and using the edge of his teeth.

  Her fingers tangled in his hair and she cried out softly, sending waves of heat licking along his flesh. He didn’t remember the last time he was so aroused, wanting this woman and no other. He nipped and licked a path over her rib cage and down to where hip met thigh.

  Pushing her legs wide with his shoulders, he bent his head and flicked at her clit with his tongue, lightly at first and then with more pressure. Myra wriggled and moaned, her fingers tightening painfully in his hair but he continued torturing her, tracing every fold and then lapping at her swollen clit. He didn’t stop until her legs were shaking and her body trembling as her orgasm took her over the cliff.

  Kissing his way up her torso as she gradually came down, Holt retrieved a condom from the wallet in his pants pocket and set it on the nightstand. Her fingers began fumbling with the buttons on his shirt but he quickly pulled back, undoing just a few if she wanted to slide her hands inside but not enough that she would be able to explore the damaged flesh in detail. The palms of her hands flattened on his bare chest, hot and eager.

  “I want to make love to you too,” Myra whispered against his lips and his own body shook with the effort to hold back. Every instinct he possessed was screaming to take her, bury himself so deep they wouldn’t know where he ended and she began. The alpha inside wanted to conquer, pillage, vanquish by bringing her more pleasure than she’d ever believed possible. More than with any man before him. Or after.

  “You are. You have.” Holt nipped at the lobe of her shell-like ear and then laved the hurt with his tongue. “It’s been awhile for me and I’m not sure I can hold back much longer.”

  Truth be told, his cock was solid concrete and his aching balls were pulled up tight. He reached down yanked open his pants and pulled them down just enough so his cock finally sprang free. Her soft fingers immediately wrapped around it, dragging a tortured groan from his lips even as arousal raced through every muscle and bone.

  “Baby,” Holt growled. “Take it easy on me. I want you so goddamn much.”

  “Yes, now.” Her tone of urgency matched his own and he hastily grabbed the condom from the bedside table, ripping it open and rolling it on with shaking fingers.

  He lined up his cock with her slit and pressed forward, hot, wet velvet hugging every inch of him and almost sending him over right away. Gritting his teeth, his jaw aching, he moved slowly, letting her adjust to his size. She was tight, the walls of her pussy gripping his cock with each stroke.

  His pulse pounded in his head and sweat pooled on the back of his neck as he called on every bit of strength he had to hold back, make this wonderful for her. Her fingers were digging into the muscles of his back and even through the cotton of his shirt he could feel the edge of her nails. Her passion spurred his own and he built up speed, thrusting hard and fast.

  Her breath was coming faster now and her hips lifted off the bed to meet every stroke. He didn’t think he was going to make it, the pressure building unbearably in his lower back when her pussy clamped down on his cock and she cried out his name. His own orgasm hit him like a freight train and he thrust in one last time as his cock jerked and swelled.

  Groaning, he slumped over her as he dragged air into his starved lungs. Her hands were stroking his damp back through his shirt and she pressed kisses on the exposed flesh of his neck.

  “I need to take care of the condom, sweetheart.”

  Holt pulled away slowly and swiftly dropped a kiss on her nose before padding into the bathroom. A few minutes later he came back out to find Myra sitting up in bed, covers pulled to her neck, but the bedside lamp on.

  He’d needed that time in the bathroom alone to come to grips with what had happened between them. It had been a far cry from the almost clinical coupling he’d experienced since the accident. He’d forgotten what it was like to be with someone he gave a damn about.

  And he more than gave a damn about Myra.

  The only thing he didn’t know was where they went from here. He wasn’t sure he was capable of having a normal, loving relationship anymore. So much had happened. He’d changed.

  Just because he wanted something didn’t make it so. Even if you had loads of money. It simply didn’t work like that. He’d found out the hard way.

  “You’re scowling,” Myra observed as he neared the edge of the bed. “Was it that bad?”

  She wasn’t smiling or laughing so he didn’t think the question was in jest. He shook his head and sat down next to her, his hip pressing against her thigh.

  “No, just the opposite.” He wasn’t ready to reveal everything he was feeling. It put him in too vulnerable of a place. “But I’ve never slept with someone who worked for me before. I might just have ruined everything. Have I? Are you angry? Do you have…regrets?”

  “No,” she said softly, her hand coming to rest on his knee. “Do you?”

  “No. I’m just not sure where we go from here.”

  The corners of her mouth tilted up in an almost smile. “I imagine that’s bothersome for you. You like to know all the answers and every move.”

  She already knew him well.

  “Maybe we should just sleep on it and talk again in the morning,” Myra offered. “I doubt there is much to be gained by doing a post mortem right now.”

  His breathing immediately became easy with the flood of relief her words brought. It was chicken shit to be this glad but he needed to think about whether he was ready to…try. Myra was dangerous in that she was the first person in years that had the ability to truly hurt him.

  If she were so inclined.

  He wasn’t sure he was ready for that. If he ever would be. It was easier to hide himself away in this house day after day, week after week, only coming out every now and then while the rest of the world went about their business.

  Never letting anyone in was safe.

  “I think that’s a good idea. We can talk about it tomorrow after we’ve both had a good night’s sleep.”

  He leaned down and kissed her soft cheek and brushed her silky hair out of her eyes. Despite the maelstrom of emotions that churned in his gut one thing was clear – he wanted to touch her. Leaving her after their lovemaking and going back to his own rooms was like ripping off a limb. His body yearned for hers but his mind was saying slow down.

  His mind won.r />
  “Goodnight, Holt.” Myra’s brown eyes gave nothing away – happy or sad. He left her room with the niggling feeling that he was making a mistake. He should turn back before it was too late. Hold her all night long and make love until they were both thoroughly exhausted.

  That was his heart talking.

  He thought it had been mortally wounded in that bombing but it was – to his shock – very much alive.

  Chapter Eight

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  Everything between Holt and Myra had changed. She could feel it and it wasn’t for the better.

  The two of them plus Amelia had an awkward and tense breakfast. Myra and Holt picked at the pancakes she’d made while the little girl chattered on and on about what she wanted to do that day. They both tried valiantly to pay attention, but their minds were far away, still in Myra’s bedroom.

  She’d had an awful time trying to sleep last night. The whole room seemed to smell of Holt and sex, especially the sheets. Finally around three in the morning she’d fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion, no closer to knowing how to handle things than she’d been hours before.

  By the time Fiona and Bart showed up mid-morning Myra’s nerves were stretched taut and she wanted to stand in the middle of the house and scream at the top of her lungs. Holt looked no better, dark circles under his eyes and curt answers to every question. It must have obvious that something was going on between her and Holt because the older couple immediately offered to take Amelia to the horse barn.

  “I guess they could tell we needed to talk,” Holt said after the couple retreated with Amelia between them. “I don’t know about you but I think I need more coffee.”

  There wasn’t enough caffeine in the world to make Myra alert, but she nodded and followed Holt into the bright, cheery kitchen that seemed to mock her gloomy mood. Last night with Holt had been the best of her entire life but from his guarded expression this morning she was pretty sure he didn’t feel the same way.