To Take a Chance
Page 7
He nodded. “I can do that. What else, darling?”
“Become my best friend.”
Lowering his head, he nuzzled her neck, inhaling the sensual, haunting scent of Shalimar. “I can do that, too. What else, princess?” Renee opened her eyes and something in her gaze gave Sheldon his answer.
“I want you to be the last man I sleep with.”
He swept her off the stool, reached over, turned off the grill and walked out of the kitchen. His long, determined strides took him across the living room, up the staircase and into the bedroom he had never shared with a woman. Whenever he brought a woman to the cabin in the woods they always slept together in one of the first-floor bedrooms. The loft had become his monastery—a private sanctuary—until now.
Shifting Renee’s slight weight, he walked to the bed, lowering her to the mattress. The light from the emerging near-full moon cast a silver glow on every light-colored surface. He made his way to the adjoining bath before returning to lie next to her; holding her hand, he stared up at the shadows on the ceiling.
There was only the sound of measured breathing as seconds ticked to minutes. Sheldon pulled her over his chest with a minimum of effort. He met her gaze in the diffused moonlight. “I can make love to you without being inside you.”
She willed the tears pricking the back of her eyelids not to fall. Why, she asked herself, did tears come so easily now when in the past she hardly ever cried? Sheldon had scaled the wall she had erected to keep all men out of her life and her heart with a quiet gentleness she hadn’t encountered in any man she knew—in or out of bed. He had asked how to proceed because of the child in her womb.
She exhaled audibly. “What I had with Donald is over. Any love I had for him died the moment I walked out of his life. There will never be three people in our bed, and this will be the last time I mention his name to you.”
Combing his fingers through her hair, Sheldon cradled her head and kissed her with a passion that threatened to incinerate her. Reversing their positions, he supported his weight on his arms while at the same time he pressed his middle to Renee’s, communicating his desire for her.
Slowly, methodically he undressed her, his mouth mapping each inch of flesh he bared. Trailing his tongue over her warm, scented flesh, he committed her smell to memory. The throbbing between his legs increased, yet Sheldon forced himself to go slow, slow enough to give Renee the pleasure he was certain she would wring from him.
The buttons on her blouse gave way and he stared mutely at the swell of flesh spilling over her bra’s delicate fabric. Reaching around her back, he released the clasp and slipped off the bra. His breathing quickening, he swallowed a groan. Her breasts were as full and firm as ripe fruit.
Renee felt the heat from Sheldon’s gaze as he eased her slacks down her hips and legs. Her panties followed, leaving her naked to his hungry gaze. The pads of his thumbs swept over her swollen nipples, sending pinpoints of exquisite pleasure to the pulsing between her thighs.
Eyes wide, breathing heavily, Sheldon sat back on his heels. “Sweet heaven, princess. You are beautiful,” he whispered reverently.
His mouth replaced his hand, suckling her, and she rose off the mattress, her breasts heaving. She wanted to touch Sheldon, taste him the way he was touching and tasting her. Tears filled her eyes again as he lowered his head and trailed soft kisses over her slightly rounded belly. She crooned his name again and again while mouth and tongue worshipped her.
Renee sat up, her hands going to the buttons on his shirt. She managed to undo two, but was thwarted when he brushed her hand aside and accomplished the task in one sweeping motion; buttons were ripped from their fastenings.
Sheldon went to his knees, unsnapped the waistband on his jeans and pulled down the zipper in a motion too quick for the eye to follow. His jeans, briefs and socks lay in a pile with hers on the floor beside the bed.
He slipped the latex sheath over his aroused flesh and extended his arms. He wasn’t disappointed when Renee moved into his embrace. Holding her, breathing in her scent, filled him with a sense of completeness. It was as if he had waited twenty years for a little slip of a woman to come into his life, a woman who would change him forever.
Why Renee and not some of the other women he had slept with?
What was so different about her that he had willingly pledged his future to her?
He prayed silently he would discover what it was before he got in too deep.
Supporting his back against the headboard, he cupped Renee’s hips, lifting her high enough to straddle his thighs. “Put your legs around my waist.” She complied, lowered her forehead to his shoulder, her breath coming in short, quick pants. “Are you comfortable?”
“Yes,” she gasped.
All of Renee’s tactile senses were on high alert: the mat of chest hair grazing her sensitive breasts, heavy breathing against her ear and the hardness between her thighs. She moaned, then bit down on her lower lip to stifle another one as her flesh stretched to accommodate Sheldon’s sex.
She rocked her hips against his, setting the pace. Each push, stroke, moan, groan and gasp of air became part of a dance of desire that sucked them into a vortex of sensual delight that had no beginning, no end.
Renee was drawn to heights of passion she had never known; her body vibrated with the liquid fire scorching her brain and nerve endings. Her lips quivered in the intoxicating desire she had not felt in months.
Sheldon could not stop the groans escaping his parted lips as flames of desire swept over him with the ferocity of a tornado touching down and sweeping up everything in its violent wake. He tried thinking of anything but the woman in his embrace, and failed—miserably.
Cradling her hips, he increased their cadence, their bodies moving faster and faster until the swirling ecstasy escalated and erupted in a tidal wave that swept them away to a private world of erotic enchantment.
Renee collapsed against Sheldon’s moist chest, her breath coming in deep surrendering moans. Filled with an amazing sense of completeness, she closed her eyes.
Sheldon loathed having to withdraw from Renee. Their lovemaking had become a raw act of possession. He belonged to her and she belonged to him.
Easing her arms from under his shoulders, he laid her gently on her side before he covered her moist body with a sheet and lightweight blanket. He sat motionless and stared at her, then moved off the bed and made his way to the bathroom.
He stood under the warm spray of the shower recalling what Renee wanted from him. He had been forthcoming when he told her he would protect her and her child. That he’d done with his sons.
However, he knew he could never promise Renee marriage, because despite his success as a father and businessman, he had failed as a husband. That was a failure he would not chance repeating.
CHAPTER SIX
Renee lay in the drowsy warmth of the large bed reliving the pleasure and satisfaction she’d shared with Sheldon. His lovemaking—the warmth of his body against hers, his protective embrace and the touch of his lips on hers had left her aching and burning for more.
Even with spiraling ecstasy that had nowhere to go, she’d prayed for it to continue until she was sucked into a vortex that held her prisoner for an eternity.
Reaching over, she turned on a lamp, looking for her clothes. They weren’t on the bed or floor. She left the bed and went into the bathroom. The bathroom was more than twice the size of her first apartment. A free-flowing master bath opened into a dressing area with built-in drawers and closets tucked into an alcove. She opened a drawer and took out a T-shirt with the logo of Tuskegee University. Sheldon revealed he had not attended college, and she wondered which of his sons had attended the historically black college.
Opening the cabinets below the vanity, she discovered a plethora of grooming supplies. Twenty minutes later she’d brushed her teeth, showered and moisturized her body. She pulled on the T-shirt, walked out of the bedroom and descended the curving staircase.
“Are you certain you don’t want my help?”
Turning slowly, Sheldon stared at Renee. She wore the T-shirt Ryan had given him after he’d returned from his alma mater as a visiting professor. The sleeves reached below her elbows and the hem below her knees. His gaze lingered on her shapely legs and bare feet.
A slow smile crinkled his eyes and deepened the slashes in his lean jaw. He moved toward her. Cradling her face, he dipped his head and brushed a light kiss over her parted lips.
“I’m certain. I wanted to set the table before coming up to get you. Are you hungry?”
She wrinkled her nose and nodded. “Starved. I’m sorry I’m not dressed for dinner, but I couldn’t find my clothes.”
“I put them in the wash.” He kissed her again. “They’re now in the dryer.” With an arm around her waist, he led Renee to the table. He waited until she’d pulled the hem of the shirt under her hips, then pushed the chair under her.
* * *
Sharing dinner with Sheldon was a surreal experience for Renee. He started a fire in the fireplace, dimmed all the lights except in the dining area and tuned on the stereo to a station that featured love songs.
He had prepared a four-course meal beginning with lobster bisque and a salad of tomato and mozzarella topped with freshly grated Parmesan cheese. A grilled steak complemented baked potatoes and blanched snow peas. She’d refused dessert because she had eaten too much at one sitting.
Smiling across the table, she closed her eyes and sighed audibly. “You can cook for me any time.”
“Is that what you want me to do? Cook for you?”
Her eyes opened and she sat up straighter. “No, Sheldon. That’s not what I want you to do. I wouldn’t mind if you cook for me on occasion and I’ll do the same for you.”
“You cook?”
She affected a frown. “Of course.” Her mother had taught her to cook, and by the age of fifteen she could prepare an entire meal by herself.
“No, princess.” His voice was low, soothing. “I look forward to cooking for you.”
The distinctive voices of Kenny Rogers and Sheena Easton singing “We’ve Got Tonight” came through speakers hidden throughout the first floor.
Sheldon pushed back his chair, rounded the table and extended his hand to Renee. “Come dance with me. This is one of my favorite songs.”
She hesitated. “I can’t.”
“Why?”
Renee stared over his head rather than meet his questioning gaze. “I don’t have on any underwear.”
A hint of a smile played around his mobile mouth. “By the time I go and get your underwear the song will be over. But, if you feel uncomfortable, then I’ll take off my underwear.”
She shot up from the chair and grabbed his hand. “No. Don’t. Please.”
Sheldon led her out to the middle of the living room, chuckling softly. “I just want you to feel comfortable.”
Renee moved into his embrace. “I’m comfortable,” she said a little too quickly.
He pulled her close to his body, spinning her around as he sang, “We’ve got tonight. Who needs tomorrow? Let’s make it last.”
She closed her eyes, listening to Sheldon sing. Was he saying that he only wanted right now—tonight and not tomorrow?
She wanted to tell Sheldon that tonight was all they had, because tomorrow was not promised. Sinking into his comforting embrace, she rested her head over his heart. The strong, steady beats kept time with hers. The song ended, but they did not pull apart. There was no need for words. Their bodies had communicated without words and what their bodies shared had nothing to do with business.
* * *
The clock on the fireplace mantel chimed the half hour as Sheldon and Renee climbed the staircase in the house at Blackstone Farms. It was one-thirty. He’d wanted to stay over until Sunday night, but she complained about having a sore throat.
“I think I’d like to sleep in my own bed.”
Sheldon’s stoic expression concealed his disappointment. They’d made love but would not sleep together. He nodded. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Renee forced a smile. Every time she swallowed she felt as if her throat was on fire. “Good night.” Rising on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek. She walked the length of the hallway and into her bedroom. She undressed quickly and slipped into bed.
* * *
Renee woke Sunday morning chilled to the bone. She could not stop her teeth from chattering. It was obvious she had come down with something.
It was ironic that something was the reason she’d gotten pregnant. A paralegal at the law firm had died from bacterial meningitis and everyone who had come in contact with her was prescribed a powerful antibiotic. Unknown to Renee, the antibiotic interacted with her low-dose contraceptive, decreasing its potency.
There were times after she’d relocated to Kentucky when she wondered what if Donald hadn’t been married. Would he have offered marriage once she told him he was to become a father? The what-ifs had haunted her until she went for a drive, parked along the bank of a small river and screamed at the top of her lungs. The action was enough to purge her what-ifs and lingering angst.
Renee forced herself to leave the bed long enough to brush her teeth and take a hot shower. She made it back to bed on wobbly knees and went back to sleep.
* * *
Sheldon walked into the dining hall and saw Jeremy and Tricia sitting at a table with her grandfather, Gus Parker. Tricia motioned for him to join them.
Leaning over, he kissed her cheek. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Pop.” Her dark eyes sparkled. “Grandpa has some wonderful news.”
Sheldon sat next to his longtime friend. Augustus Parker had come to the farm as a groom two weeks after Sheldon purchased his first thoroughbred, and retired as assistant trainer some thirty years later.
“What’s the good news, Gus?”
Tall, thin and nearing eighty, Gus affected a mysterious smile. “I’m getting married.” He and his first wife Olga were married for forty-seven years before she died twelve years ago.
Sheldon’s shocked expression gave way to a wide grin as he pumped Gus’s hand. “Congratulations. Who is the lucky woman?”
“Beatrice Miller.”
“Your nurse?” Sheldon asked.
“My ex-nurse and soon-to-be wife.”
Tricia rested a hand on her grandfather’s shoulder. Gus had suffered a heart attack and been hospitalized in late summer, but had recovered enough to give her away in marriage to Jeremy Blackstone. It was apparent the middle-aged visiting nurse not only helped heal the older man’s heart; she’d softened it as well.
“When is the big day, Grandpa?”
“I’m leaving that up to Beatrice.”
“Do you plan to move off the farm?” Sheldon asked.
Gus shook his head. “No. I wouldn’t even consider leaving now that I’m going to become a great-grandfather.” He winked at his granddaughter. “Beatrice told me she would love to fill in for Tricia as school nurse once she goes out on maternity leave.”
Tricia stared at Gus. “I’m not going out on maternity leave, Grandpa. The baby is due the first week in July. School is over by that time. I’ll have two months to bond with the baby, then I’ll see it every day at the school’s infant center.”
Sheldon thought about Renee and her baby. She’d told him she was in her fourth month, which meant she would probably deliver sometime in March. Although she would not have worked for Blackstone Farms long enough to make her eligible for maternity leave, he would ask Jeremy to allow her some time off.
He glanced down at his watch. It was nearly noon and Renee had not
put in an appearance. If she did not come to the dining hall before he’d left it, he would bring her breakfast favorites to the house.
* * *
Sheldon rapped on Renee’s bedroom door, listening for movement on the other side. He tried the knob, turning it slowly. The door opened silently and he walked over to the bed. She lay on her side, eyes closed. He touched a bare shoulder, then jerked his hand away. She was burning up!
Guilt attacked him. He thought she’d refused to share his bed because she hadn’t felt comfortable sleeping with him at the farm. Reaching for the cell phone on his waistband, he dialed Jeremy’s number. The call was answered after the second ring.
“Tell Tricia I need her to come and check on Renee. She’s burning up with fever.” Ending the call, Sheldon walked into the bathroom, wet a towel with cold water, then retraced his steps.
* * *
Jeremy and Tricia found Sheldon sitting on the side of Renee’s bed, dabbing her face and neck with a cloth.
Tricia met her father-in-law’s worried gaze. “Let me take her temperature.”
Sheldon rose from the bed. He stood with his back to the window, watching intently as Tricia took Renee’s temperature and blood pressure.
“Last night she complained of a sore throat,” he said in a quiet voice.
Tricia glanced at Sheldon over her shoulder. “At least half a dozen kids have also come down with sore throats. The doctor tested them for streptococcus.”
A frown appeared between Sheldon’s eyes. “Did any of them have it?”
“No. All of the cultures came back negative.”
“I can’t take antibiotics,” Renee said in a croaking voice.
Tricia met her gaze. “Why not?”
Renee closed her eyes. It hurt her to talk or swallow. “I’m pregnant.”
Jeremy and Tricia turned and stared at Sheldon, whose impassive expression did not change with Renee’s admission. They exchanged a knowing look. It was apparent the elder Blackstone knew about Renee’s condition.
“I want her tested for strep throat,” Sheldon ordered softly.
After tucking her stereoscope and blood pressure equipment into a small black leather case Tricia stood up. “You want the doctor to come out here today?”