A Bride for Jackson Powers (Desire, 1273)

by Dixie Browning

  “I’ll probably be up.”

  “Sleep as late as you can,” he said, unwilling to let her go, calling himself every kind of fool for prolonging the agony. Pretty soon just looking at her wouldn’t be enough, he would need to touch her, to hold her.

  And then holding her would no longer be enough.

  “Go to bed, Hetty,” he growled.

  Hetty had just fallen asleep when the alarm went off. It took her half a minute to realize what it was. Not an alarm clock, but a steady clang, clang, clang.

  Someone was shaking her awake. Clad only in a pair of briefs, Jax turned and scooped the baby out of her crib, grabbed a blanket off the bed and one from the crib and yelled, “Come on!”

  Once she realized what was happening, Hetty wasted no time. Holding Sunny in one arm, Jax steered them out into the hall where the clamor was even more deafening.

  All up and down the hallway, people were emerging from doorways, looking frightened, puzzled. They quickly became a mob and rushed toward the elevators, but Jax yelled, “Take the stairs!” Such was the authority he projected, even wearing only his briefs, that the swarm veered toward the stairwell, sweeping Hetty in their wake. One of the first things Jax had done when they’d checked into the room was study the diagram on the back of the door and show her where the nearest exit was. “Count the doors between our rooms and the exit,” he’d told her, and she had, and then promptly forgotten the count.

  Fortunately the lights were still on. There was no smell of smoke yet, but the noise was terrifying.

  Holding Sunny in one arm, Jax held the heavy metal door open, took the arm of an elderly woman and handed her over to a young man wearing a ponytail and a single earring, then grabbed Hetty’s hand and followed the crowd down the stairs. Not until they were halfway down the stairs did he take the time to drape the spare blanket over Hetty’s shoulders.

  She tucked the crib blanket around Sunny and asked, “What about you?” Her teeth were chattering, more from fear than from the cold.

  “Warm-natured, remember?” He herded them down flight after flight. Once outside, he found a sheltered place out of the damp wind, away from the building, and held the two of them close. Through narrowed eyes he scanned the empty street beyond the huddled crowd for a sign of emergency traffic.

  A taxi crawled past, and then a delivery van.

  “What happened, does anyone know yet?” Other than a slight breathlessness, Hetty sounded as if this were no more than a fire drill. He hoped to God she was right, but he wasn’t about to take any chances.

  There were perhaps two dozen people outside this particular exit, with a few more straggling out from time to time. The murmur of voices grew louder as curiosity and outrage began to replace shock and fear. Someone said it was probably a kitchen fire. “Nine times outta ten, that’s where they start. My son-in-law’s got this boarding house. Some nut’s always burning up popcorn in the microwave, setting off the smoke alarm.”

  Someone else mentioned laundry rooms. “Lint traps, there’s your problem.”

  Still another man said it was probably a false alarm. Jax was inclined to agree. Nevertheless, he held his two ladies close and murmured words meant to be reassuring. “We’ll know something pretty soon. Meanwhile, be glad the rain’s let up for the moment.”

  Still no fire engines. Nothing but the incessant clanging of the alarm, which sounded somewhat muffled from where they had gathered. A few stragglers emerged through the double doors to join the group knotted around the garbage bins.

  “Did you remember to bring our room key?” Hetty asked. She was standing storklike on one foot, the other drawn up under the trailing blanket. He wished he’d taken time to grab a pair of shoes.

  “Feel around inside Sunny’s sleeper. I didn’t have a pocket.”

  “I would never have noticed,” she said dryly. They shared a quick gleam of amusement.

  A solitary police car rolled up and came to a stop. Jax handed over the baby and said, “Back in a minute, stay put.” Then he jogged over to meet the officer.

  From her sheltered location, Hetty watched the two men talk. The rain started up again, then stopped. It was cold. Jax was practically naked. There should be something ludicrous about a man wearing only rain-drenched briefs standing in the middle of the street, in the middle of the night.

  Jax managed to looked heroic.

  Once the shock of the emergency passed, he’d be frozen.

  He could at least have grabbed a pair of shoes. She remembered how, back at the airport, he was forever slipping them off and then losing them in a space barely big enough to lie down in. Gus used to misplace things, too. His keys. His glasses. She hadn’t thought anything of it. But with Jax’s steel-trap mind, it was so out of character she found it endearing.

  She was beginning to find entirely too many things about the man endearing.

  “What are you smiling about? This is your idea of entertainment?” He appeared at her side while she was watching the ponytailed boy trying to cover the old woman’s head with a newspaper.

  “That’s not a smile, it’s a grimace. I’m freezing!”

  “Next time, sleep in something warmer than that thing you’re wearing.”

  “Look who’s talking,” she jeered, but when he drew her against his rain-drenched body she went willingly, wanting to share what little body heat she possessed.

  Sunny started to bounce in her arms. “Oh, Lordy, she thinks it’s time to wake up and play.”

  Jax lifted her into his own arms. “Great timing, kid. We’ll never get you to sleep after this.” He covered them as much as possible with the blanket.

  Hetty asked what the officer had said, and Jax repeated the brief conversation. “He’s gone inside to check it out, but so far it looks like a false alarm. We should know something in a few minutes.”

  “Before or after we turn into blocks of ice?” She tried to make light of it, but her feet had gone beyond hurting to numbness. Most of the people gathered outside were wearing robes and slippers. A few were fully dressed. Several of the women carried jewelry cases, one a hair dryer.

  Hetty had left the bathrobe in the bathroom, and her new shoes were somewhere under the bed. With so little else to lose, other than her life, she hadn’t taken time to grab anything. How many times could a woman lose everything she possessed?

  She was still wondering when a man carrying a flashlight rounded the corner and hurried toward where the small group was huddled. He was wearing a doorman’s braid-trimmed topcoat over striped pajamas. “Sorry for the trouble, folks. New computerized security system. Either Y2K struck again or somebody hit the wrong button. Y’all can go back inside now. Manager said to tell you there’ll be an adjustment on your bills.”

  Hetty looked to Jax for confirmation. “That’s it? All this excitement and we’re supposed to go back inside as if it had never happened?”

  “You want to stand outside and argue?”

  “Who, me? I’m too cold to argue.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, steering them back inside. The temperature was only in the forties, but the windchill was definitely a factor.

  By the time he retrieved the room key from the foot of Sunny’s sleeper and let them inside the suite, Hetty’s teeth were chattering audibly. His own metabolism was such that he adjusted to the cold pretty well, and Sunny seemed none the worse for the exposure, if her two-tooth grin was any indication. The kid obviously thrived on excitement.

  He felt her bottom like an old pro, then carried her to the crib. “Go run a tub of hot water and jump in,” he called over his shoulder.

  “I’ve already used a week’s worth of hot water.”

  “Use my tub, then. Or climb back in bed and cover up.”

  “I’m too keyed-up to sleep. Maybe some hot chocolate? Is it too late for room service?”

  “They’re probably about ready to start on breakfast. Sun’ll be up in a couple of hours.”

  Arms wrapped around her,
she was standing in her bedroom doorway, one bare foot covering the other, waiting to see if Sunny was going to settle. “I could make coffee.” She was shivering so hard the words were barely intelligible.

  “Coffee won’t help you sleep.”

  Jax tilted his head to listen, then crossed the room and pulled the bedroom door shut. “She’s down and out.”

  “I can’t believe it. She seems to thrive on excitement.”

  “You’re still cold, aren’t you?” Shaking his head, Jax opened his arms and said, “Take off that wet blanket, then come here and let me warm you up before you shake your joints loose.”

  “I really shouldn’t,” she said. Then, letting the blanket fall to the floor, she walked into his warm embrace.

  “Between us, we ought to be able to generate a little steam heat.”

  She laughed softly, then tucked her cold hands under his arms. “May I? A lady doesn’t like to presume.”

  “A lady ought to know better than to sleep in a thin T-shirt in this kind of weather. As soon as the stores open I want you to go buy yourself several pairs of flannel pajamas.”

  “And some hunting socks. I used to sleep in Gus’s hunting socks when it got real cold. My feet are like blocks of ice.” She slid her toes up the calf of his leg, and he laughed, but it was a shaky effort.

  “Come on, I’ll let you borrow my sweatshirt.”

  They never even made it to the chair where he’d left his clothes. Somehow—afterward Hetty was never quite sure how it happened—they ended up in Jax’s bed with her cold feet clutched between his big warm ones, her cold body plastered against his heated flesh. “Better?” he murmured.

  By that time she couldn’t have spoken if her life depended on it. The feelings that had started when her breasts had been crushed against his chest quickly turned into a pleasure so intense it was almost pain.

  A need so deep it blinded her to all reason.

  Hetty knew what was going to happen. They both knew. And because she wanted his kiss, wanted whatever he could give her, wanted so desperately to follow this fierce compulsion to its inevitable conclusion, she lifted her face eagerly when he came searching for her mouth.

  His hands moved to cover her breasts, causing her nipples to harden and push against his palms. Lowering his mouth, he suckled her there, drawing forth a soft cry from her lips.

  She thought he whispered her name, but the words were lost as he began to roll up her damp knit shirt. Hetty tugged at his briefs, boldly, shamelessly taking the lead for the first time in her life. In the early days of her marriage she’d been tempted. She’d found herself wanting to experiment, but embarrassed to suggest trying something new. Gus had had his own routine when it came to sex. When it came to almost everything. He’d been a methodical man. A safe, dependable man. It was one of the things she’d loved about him.

  There was nothing at all safe or routine about what was happening to her now. It was if a stranger had been hiding inside her all these years, a hungry, shameless creature who made demands, who followed instincts that Hetty had never dreamed she possessed, one who felt pleasure beyond her wildest imagination.

  Even more surprising, she was no silent lover. Amazed, she heard herself repeating his name again and again, begging shamelessly for his touch, for his kisses in places where she ached to feel them.

  Jax felt her hands moving over his body, lingering on his chest, her fingertips brushing over his flat nipples, causing them to harden instantly. He groaned as her lips took their place. “Is this all right?” she whispered.

  “It’s all right.” His voice grated harshly in the silent room. He groaned again when her hands skimmed down his body, following the trail of coarse dark hair that led to his throbbing sex.

  She was incredible. For a woman who’d been married all those years, she was surprisingly awkward. Bold, yet oddly hesitant. “Sweetheart, I can’t hold back much longer.” His turgid flesh leaped as he felt the brush of her fingers, felt them close around him. “Ahh, Hetty, wait—let me—”

  He wanted to make it last. To make it good for her. Better than good, unforgettable. But by the time he mounted her he was long past any semblance of control. The moment he felt her silken thighs close around his hips he plunged, withdrew slowly and plunged again. Holding his breath, he struggled to regain control, but it was too late. His head thrown back, eyes tightly closed, he shuddered, thrust quickly once more, then cried out his release.

  Eons later, when he could find the strength, he lifted his head from her shoulder. “Ahh, Hetty, I’m sorry. You didn’t…did you?” He should’ve been able to tell, but it had taken him by surprise. The sheer power of it. No other woman had ever driven him so quickly, so completely, over the edge. He could only apologize.

  “I’m not sure,” she said thoughtfully, her breath still coming in throbbing little gasps.

  “Hetty?” He rolled over onto his side, carrying her with him. Sliding his hand between their damp bodies, he found her, heard the quick intake of her breath and knew beyond any doubt that she was still hovering on the edge of fulfillment.

  A touch was all it took. A single caress, and she stiffened in his arms, gave one deep, shuddering gasp, then collapsed.

  Some time later, when her breath and his had slowed to normal levels, he started to speak, realized he had no idea what to say, and thought that, all things considered, it might be better to say nothing.

  Silently he thought about the possible consequences of one rash act. Only a few feet away, sleeping peacefully in the next room, was the consequence of another such a lapse in judgment.

  He might be a fool. He was no coward.

  “Hetty, if you—are you—that is, I didn’t use anything.”

  “I know. I’m safe. That is, I’ve never—well, you know. Since Gus, I mean. Before him, either, for that matter. I guess it showed—that I’m not terribly experienced, I mean, and as for the other, I’ve always been regular, and I know they say it’s not foolproof, but in my case, it must be, because I never got pregnant. So you don’t have to…”

  He tucked her face into his throat, wondering whether to laugh or cry. How many ways could a man mess up his life?

  He was beginning to suspect that his own was deeply screwed up.

  “I know all about—well, everything. I’ve read lots of articles, and you hear about it in the news all the time, and I can understand why you’re—”

  “Hetty. You’re babbling again.”

  “I know. I warned you I tend to do that whenever—”

  “You feel nervous. Yeah, I remember.”

  She took a deep breath and began to pull away. Jax held on, unwilling to let her go because she felt so good, so right in his bed, in his arms.

  And because…

  “Hetty,” he whispered against her ear.

  That was all it took.

  Jax opened his eyes a few hours later, sensing another body in the bed beside him. Orientation was not a problem. Instant recall was both a curse and a blessing. He lay there, arms crossed under his head, and thought about what had happened.

  Happened not once, not twice, but three times!

  It was damned near a miracle.

  Reserved by nature, Jax was not a man to lose his head over sex. He’d always considered himself an adequate lover. Cautious, sensible, but generous.

  With Hetty he’d become a raging stud.

  Rolling over onto his side, he gazed down at the sleeping woman beside him. Her breathing was deep and steady, her eyelids not even quivering.

  She was smiling.

  Eight

  It was Lina who moved Hetty and the baby into a small apartment. “It’s my niece’s place, but she’s out of the country for the next three weeks. By then Jax will have found something else.”

  And someone else, Hetty thought, but didn’t say so.

  “She won’t mind? Your niece?”

  “Goodness, no. She’d do anything for Jax. Had a crush on him since the first time she met him,
when she was still in high school.”

  “Yes, well…we won’t touch anything.”

  “Touch all you want. Another few weeks and you won’t be able to keep that baby out of mischief, though. I’d put things up out of her reach if I were you.”

  Hetty did. She unpacked and set up the playpen and the crib she’d bought with Lina’s help. The stroller and carrier she placed by the door for convenience.

  Jax seemed in no hurry to visit their new quarters. In fact, Hetty hadn’t heard from him since the night they had made love. He’d been gone when she’d woken up that morning. Evidently he was as embarrassed by the whole thing as she was, although she couldn’t think why. She was the one who had acted so shamelessly. She’d actually begged him to do it again and again.

  She blew upward in an attempt to cool her flaming face. Even now she couldn’t believe she had done the things she had done, said the things she had said—actually begged him to—

  Well. Enough about that. It was time to plant her feet firmly back on the earth, and the first thing she would do was to call Jeannie. If she didn’t get through, she would write. Surely Nicky wouldn’t hide her mail. He was spiteful, but it was mostly because he was immature and unsure of himself. Eighteen was pretty young to be a father, a husband and a homeowner.

  She waited until after Sunny went down for her nap to place the call, hoping that Nicky would be out. Hoping he’d found a job by now.

  “Jeannie? It’s me, Hetty. I just wanted to let you know—”

  But before she could let her know anything, she had to listen while her stepdaughter complained about the cost of baby-sitters and the cost of owning a home.

  “Does having to fill out that thing that came from the tax office mean I have to pay house taxes?”

  Hetty admitted that it meant just that. She said, “I know, honey, it’s tough at the moment, but if Nicky can find a good job—yes, I’m sure he has, but—well, of course he is—no, I can’t come home right away, I have a—”

  Hetty’s shoulders sagged. “How’s Robert? Did you take him for his six-month checkup?”