Not Even if You Begged

by Francis Ray

  Without hesitation she stood and placed her hand in his. He picked her up in his arms, dropped a kiss on her lips. “Thank you.”

  C h a p t e r

  15

  Simon had never been so glad that he’d worked out as when he climbed the stairs. He didn’t stop until he placed Maureen on her feet by her bed. Grabbing his shirt and T-shirt, he pulled both over his head and tossed them aside.

  His muscles rippled under Maureen’s fingertips as she ran her fingers across his upper torso. He sucked in his breath. “You’re so strong,” she murmured.

  “I want to see you.” He turned her around and unzipped the black sheath she wore, marveling as more and more of her skin was revealed. He dropped tiny kisses on each shoulder, felt her tremble beneath his lips. He shoved the dress over her hips, then turned her to him.

  Air became harder for him to draw in. Her breasts were barely covered with lace. His gaze went further to the tiny scrap of lace panty and the thigh-high stockings. He was indeed a lucky man.

  His mouth took hers in a tender kiss that quickly built in intensity and need. When she reached for his belt, he reached in his pocket for the condoms he thought he might one day get to use. Wrapping one hand around her, he tumbled them into bed, shoving the condoms under her pillow.

  “I’m hot.”

  “Me, too. I want you so bad.”

  “No!” She pushed out of his arms and ran to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

  Confused, feeling like a heel, he followed. Twisting the doorknob, he found it locked. “Maureen, I’m sorry.” His hand flattened on the closed door. “I shouldn’t have pushed. Come on out. Nothing will happen.”

  “Just leave.”

  Simon’s gut clenched when he heard the catch in her voice. It worsened as he heard her sobs. “Please, honey, don’t cry. Yell at me. Anything. But please don’t cry.”

  “Please, just go.”

  “No, I’m not leaving with you upset.” He tried the door again. He could jimmy it, but it wouldn’t be fair. “We can wait to make love until you’re ready. Being with you is enough.”

  “If you care at all about me, you’ll leave.”

  How could she not know he cared? Was that it? Did she need the words? “I do care about you, more than I have any other woman. That’s why I can’t leave when you’re upset.”

  Silence and sobs were his answer.

  “Talk to me, Maureen.” He’d been sure she’d been with him all the way. Had she gotten cold feet as he’d expected or had she suddenly thought of her dead husband? “We can get through this, I know we can, but we have to talk.”

  Utter condemning silence. At least he didn’t hear her sobbing. Hearing her cry, and knowing he was the cause, was like a knife through his heart.

  “Maureen.” His hand slid down from the door. Obviously, she wasn’t coming out, but he had no intention of leaving until he fixed whatever the problem was between them. His body ached for release that wasn’t going to happen. Maureen came first.

  “We’re going to talk about this.” He picked up his discarded shoes and clothes and put them on, then moved to the far side of the door to wait. Sooner or later she’d come out and he’d be there. Folding his arms, he leaned back against the silk wallpaper. Everywhere his eyes looked, there was elegance and beauty, just like the woman who lived there.

  There were fresh cut flowers on the night chest by her bed. He’d given them to her tonight and been pleased when she’d held them lovingly to her chest, then taken them to her room before they had gone to the theater. A group of shells surrounded a vanilla candle next to a book with a brass bookmark. The chandelier in the ceiling was shaped like leaves and brimming with crystals. There was also a ceiling fan. Beneath his feet was a polished hardwood floor. A few feet away was an Oriental rug with the rich blues and subtle stone colors that were carried throughout the room.

  He tried not to let his gaze drift to the four-poster bed, but it was impossible. The sheets felt like velvet against his skin, but it hadn’t held a candle to the softness of Maureen’s skin, the sensual scent she wore. She was temptation personified. He wanted to make love to her, but he also enjoyed her company, her laughter, her sharp intelligence. He wasn’t giving that up.

  In a flash, he recalled the condoms he’d slipped under her pillow. He unfolded his arms to retrieve them.

  “Simon?”

  He stopped. Too late. The bathroom door cracked open. There was an unimpeded view of the bed. After a few moments, the door swung open wider and Maureen came out wearing a short white cotton robe belted at the waist.

  She sniffed. Dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. Simon was about to go to her when she mumbled, “Why did I have to have that stupid hot flash?”

  Stunned, Simon remained immobile. Of all the reasons that had run through his head, menopause had never been one of them. Perhaps because, when he looked at her, she didn’t look any older than he was. She certainly didn’t kiss and make his body zing as if she were older.

  He knew he had a problem as she continued to the bed. She’d turn and see him. And be embarrassed. He knew there was no way to leave without her seeing him. Perhaps if—

  She tensed as if sensing someone there, then swung around. Clearly embarrassed, she palmed the lower half of her face with both hands.

  Simon quickly strode to her, taking her hands from her face. He could treat this seriously or lightly, and he had better get it right. If he didn’t, Maureen was lost to him, and he didn’t think he could stand that.

  “It must be rotten to deal with hot flashes. Would you like to take a swim? Take the boat out? Take a cold shower together?”

  Her sweet mouth trembled.

  “Oh, honey.” He kissed her softly on the lips, moved to the curve of her jaw. “We’ll work through this.” He kissed the tears from her eyes. “You just tell me if we need to stop.”

  His hand cupped her cheek, found her skin cool, not flushed or moist. Simon’s oldest brother had once confided in him about his wife’s hot flashes. Simon had witnessed them a time or two on his own. A fine sheen of moisture suddenly dampened Maureen’s skin.

  “I’ll be right back.” Quickly crossing the room, he turned on the ceiling fan and then lowered the thermostat, glad he’d inspected her house and knew where things were. When he turned, he saw her hands were palming her face again. He couldn’t have that.

  “Guess none of my suggestions sounded good right now.” He pulled off his shirt and slacks and toed off his loafers. “If you change your mind, all you have to do is tell me.”

  Her eyes widened when she saw the arousal he was unable to hide in his silk briefs. “Simon,” she said when his hands covered hers, bringing them to her sides.

  He kissed her forehead. Soft and dry. “Yes?”

  “I—”

  “I know, honey. It’s all right.” Curving his arms around her slim waist, he tilted her head up, smiled into her uncertain face, then settled his lips on hers, slipping his tongue into her mouth. She remained immobile for all of two very long seconds, then she melted into his arms.

  He kissed her thoroughly. When she was straining against him, he untied her belt and slipped his hand inside. He shuddered. There was nothing underneath except warm, fragrant skin.

  He nipped her lip. “You have incredible skin.” His hand swept up to cover her breast, relishing the hard nipple pushing against his palm. Her breast was firm and filled his hand. He wanted to see all of her.

  Catching her around her slight waist, he lifted her off her feet and didn’t put her down until they were by the bed. Raising his head, he slipped her robe slowly from her shoulders. Inch by incredible inch, her body was revealed to him. “There is nothing about you that doesn’t please me.”

  “Simon.” Her hands rested gently on his chest. “I—thank you.”

  “Thank you for trusting me.” He pulled her into his arms, relishing the feel of her naked body against his. “You’re all that I desire. All that I ever could hav
e hoped to desire. Let me show you.”

  Picking her up, he placed her on the bed and came down on top of her. Lacing their fingers together, he planted nibbling kisses on her face, her shoulders. When she sighed, he released her hands and moved to take the tempting peak of one breast into his mouth. She gasped, arching upward.

  He suckled and laved the point in his mouth, then moved to the other one. His hands reached down to the junction of her thighs and found her wet and hot. She whimpered, her body moving restlessly against him.

  His head moved down, kissing the valley between her breasts, her quivering abdomen, as his hands pleasured her.

  “Simon.” His name came in a heated rush.

  Moving back up, he captured her mouth with his, kissing her deeply. Beneath her pillow, he found the condom. Releasing her, he removed his briefs and sheathed himself.

  He joined them, filling her completely. She closed around him like a tight fist. Pleasure coursed through him. He stared down into her passion-filled eyes and knew she felt the same exquisite joining.

  He began to move. She met him thrust for thrust. He felt her stiffen beneath him, felt his own body coiling tighter. He quickened the pace, pumping, driving. She shattered first. He quickly followed. His body quivered; he felt hers do the same.

  His breath coming in spurts, he gathered her to him and rolled over on his back. When he thought he could move again, he tilted her chin up. Relief and gratitude swept through him when he saw the contented smile on her face. “Are you all right?”

  She smiled. “I don’t know. Maybe we should try that again, and I could tell you.”

  Laughing, he rolled over on top of her. “My pleasure.”

  Maureen couldn’t keep the grin off her face.

  Walking Simon to her door a little before seven the next morning, she couldn’t have been happier. Her hot flashes didn’t faze Simon. She’d had a couple of bouts last night, rolling away from Simon, flushing with heat and embarrassment. He’d gotten her a bottle of water, a cool washcloth, and turned back on the ceiling fan he’d turned off earlier because she’d become chilled.

  He’d taken them so matter-of-factly that when she’d had one while they were eating breakfast together, she’d dared to say out loud that she didn’t know how women stood them. He’d loosened her robe and kissed her on each shoulder. With his eyes twinkling, he’d suggested she might feel better if she took the robe off. She’d batted his hand and laughed as he’d expected, but the thought had been tempting.

  Thank goodness they didn’t dampen her sexual desire. They’d made love that morning when they’d woken up.

  “I’ll pick you up at eight thirty,” Simon said.

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  “I’ll miss you, miss this.” Curling his finger through her belt, he pulled her to him, kissing her long and thoroughly.

  Her eyelashes slowly fluttered upward. “Then you won’t be late.”

  “No way.” He dropped a kiss on her lips, then started down the walkway that would lead him to the garage where his car was parked. He didn’t get two feet.

  “You bastard!”

  Simon jerked his head around to see Ryan charging toward him, his fists balled and fire in his eyes. Traci, in a robe, raced after him.

  “Ryan, no!” Maureen rushed to intercept Ryan.

  Simon cursed under his breath. He’d planned to leave early to prevent Ryan finding out. Not for anything would he want to hurt, embarrass, or do anything to jeopardize Maureen and Ryan’s relationship. He certainly didn’t plan to fight Ryan.

  “Ryan, no!” Maureen spread both hands against her son’s heaving chest.

  “I thought you were my friend!” Ryan yelled, blowing from anger, not exertion. “I trusted you!”

  “Ryan, calm down, and let’s go into the house.” Traci caught his arm.

  “I’m not going a step with that bastard!” Ryan yelled. “You took advantage of my mother.”

  Simon had been considering walking off and letting Ryan cool down until Ryan slung that accusation. He closed the distance between them. “I care about Maureen.”

  “That’s a pile of crap.” Ryan bristled. “She’s almost ten years older than you. She’ll be sixty soon and you’re not even fifty.”

  Maureen dropped her head. Simon’s own fists clenched. “Age has nothing to do with the way we feel.”

  “Oh, give me a break!” Ryan sneered. “I’ve heard of your rep with women, and it’s certainly not with women my mother’s age. She’s feeling vulnerable since the burglary, and you cashed in on that.”

  “Stop it, Ryan!” Traci shook his arm. “Can’t you see you’re hurting Maureen?”

  “He doesn’t want her, Traci. He couldn’t.”

  With a whimper, Maureen ran into the house. Simon took a step toward her, but Ryan jerked away from Traci and blocked his path. “You’ve done enough. Get your sorry behind off this property, and don’t come back.”

  Simon’s fists clenched and unclenched. “If you weren’t Maureen’s son …” Whirling sharply, he started toward his car.

  “Oh, Ryan,” Traci said in an exasperated voice, then she went after Maureen.

  Not finding her downstairs, Traci went to Maureen’s bedroom and knocked. “Maureen. Ryan is wrong.”

  “I just want to be alone.”

  “All right. I’ll call you later.” Traci met Ryan at the top of the landing. “You upset her. She’s locked herself in her room.”

  “Me?” he shouted. “This is Simon’s doing. I never thought he’d be so underhanded.”

  “Simon is not the one who made her feel old and stupid.”

  “She’ll be sixty soon!” Ryan bellowed. “We’re planning her birthday party!”

  “So what!” Traci yelled just as loud. “She’s still attractive and has desires. Simon is your fraternity brother and your friend. He’s a good man.”

  Ryan slumped in a chair on the landing and closed his eyes. “I don’t want to think about her being—”

  Hunkering down in front of him, Traci rested her hands on his thighs and waited until he opened his eyes. “You’re an OB-GYN doctor, surely you have female patients who are older and remain sexually active.”

  “They’re not my mother,” he muttered stubbornly.

  Traci palmed his cheek. “Exactly. Don’t punish her because you’re unwilling to see her the way Simon does.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. I want to see her happy, but—” He stood, bringing Traci with him. Releasing her, he went to his mother’s door and knocked. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” came his mother’s faint reply through the door.

  Traci hugged him. “I’m proud of you.”

  He hugged her back. “I’m not promising anything.”

  “I know, and I’m still proud of you. Maureen needed to know you haven’t changed toward her.”

  He frowned. “That would never happen.” He looked at the closed door. “Check on her today, will you?”

  “You know you don’t have to ask.” Taking his arm, they went back down the stairs and out the door, locking it after them. “Now you’d better go, or you’ll be late for the lecture.”

  He sighed. “Good thing I’m not in surgery. ’Bye.” Kissing her on the cheek, he was gone.

  Traci was worried about Maureen.

  Arriving at her office that morning, the first thing she did was call Forever Yours. Henrietta answered the phone and said Maureen had called in ill. Traci called Maureen and got her answering machine. A call to Ryan revealed he had gotten the machine as well.

  A little after eleven, Traci finally reached the maid, who said Maureen was in her room resting. Crying her eyes out was more like it, but Traci was already working on the cure.

  Sudden loud voices and curses outside her office had Traci reaching for the phone to call security. The door burst open and Elisa tumbled in, wrestling with a man Traci had never seen before. Behind her was Traci’s secretary.

  “I’ve
alerted security.”

  “You lied to me, you conniving bitch!” Elisa screamed, attempting to free herself from the man holding both her arms behind her. “You want Ryan for yourself, but you’ll never have him!”

  “Are you with her?” Traci asked the muscled man, who appeared to be in his mid-thirties. He wore a lightweight sports jacket and jeans.

  “Sam Bledsoe. Dr. Gilmore hired me.”

  Elisa stopped struggling. “Ryan sent you to get me?”

  “You’ll have to ask him about that,” the man answered.

  “He sent you to spy on me?” Elisa raged, starting to struggle once again. “It’s too late. I saw him with Porky.”

  Traci lifted a brow. There was no doubt who “Porky” was. “Ryan doesn’t think so.”

  “You bitch!” Elisa screamed, struggling ineffectually against the man’s superior strength.

  “Ms. Evans, I wouldn’t aggravate her,” the man suggested softly.

  Traci folded her arms. “But she can aggravate me?”

  Two men in building security uniforms rushed into the room.

  “Please take this woman to your office and hold her there,” Traci suggested.

  Each burly officer grabbed an arm. Elisa’s screams became louder. “Maybe we should call the police,” one suggested.

  “No.” Elisa needed psychiatric help. A police record might jeopardize her chance to practice psychiatry again. Never had the saying “physician, heal thyself” been more appropriate. “Just take her to your office.”

  “If you say so.” They left with the man Ryan had hired following them.

  Traci picked up the phone and dialed. “Ryan, Elisa is here and she’s out of control. You need to get over here and bring her father with you.”

  Ryan’s temper was on a short leash.

  Elisa, in restraints in a chair, called him every foul name he’d ever heard of, and he had heard a lot. Strangely, the more she ranted, the more he felt sorry for her. He wouldn’t wish mental illness on his worst enemy.

  Dr. Thomas saw the restraints and became angry. “Take them off her. She’s not a criminal!”