Glancing up at him, Alex noted a flash of anger in his eyes. Where had that come from?
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” he said. Pivoting on his heel, Jack left the cemetery. He waited while she mounted, and then wordlessly turned his horse toward home.
Chapter Eleven
They rode back to the barn in strained silence. With every quiet mile, Alex grew more distressed. Jack’s sorrow was profound, his guilt magnified because, for some crazy reason, she knew he blamed himself for Brandon’s death.
Unable to face the closed confines of that house, as beautiful and homey as it was, Alex volunteered to put the horses away when they arrived back at the farm. Jack grunted his agreement and left her in the barn, a place where she always felt at home.
Alex cross-tied both horses to let them cool down by standing in their stalls. Then she sat the grooming bucket outside Chief’s stall and began the task of tidying up the old gelding.
Grooming a horse expended a lot of energy—used more calories, the experts said, than riding. To Alex the work had always been a joy, a time for her to connect with another living creature. A time to think. A time to regain perspective.
Mulling over her problems, a simple solution to her current problems eluded her. She moved the currycomb around and around the horse’s winter coat, and pulled chunks of winter hair from the rubber currycomb before dropping the tool into the bucket.
Then she picked up a hard brush, working with short, firm strokes, over Chief’s back. As her hand moved down the gelding’s shoulder, dirt flying up from the brown coat, she wondered about the dynamics within the Breckinridge family.
She felt sorry for Jack. Was he supposed to carry the Breckinridge banner? Be the responsible son, do everything right, and please his mother in the bargain?
Alex knew full well how troublesome dealing with a mother could be. At least she had come to an understanding with hers. Evelyn only wanted what was best for her and Tyler. Her mother’s way of communicating that objective was often shrill and direct, sounding demanding and negative.
Was that Irene’s problem too? Communication? Or did she harbor other motives, manipulative and self-serving?
Alex stopped her frantic brushing and took a deep breath. The sweet, earthy aroma of horse and cedar shavings filled her nostrils. She placed a hand on Chief’s shoulder and rested her forehead against his long, warm neck. Shutting her eyes, she let the heat from his muscled body soothe her, rocking her gently like a babe in arms.
She wanted to help Jack solve his problems with his mother, but she didn’t know how. It was beyond the scope of a business partner. Even if she was a real wife, she doubted she could offer him much solace from the sadness of loss, the blame and the constant expectations of his mother.
But as a woman, she could offer him comfort.
The thought sent spiraling shock waves through her body. She pushed away from Chief.
Her mind in a whirl, she dropped the brush into the groom box and picked up a soft one. With gentle motions she whooshed the soft bristles over the horse, going from the top of his face to the tip of his back legs.
Jack wanted to kiss her. Not because he loved her, but because there was a throbbing chemistry between them burning with every accidental contact and look.
Sex between them might alleviate, even for a moment, the pain and suffering that scarred his soul.
Alex swallowed. She had already acknowledged that making love to Jack would be a mistake for her. That’s why she extracted the no sex promise from him—to protect herself.
And he had kept that promise like a gentleman.
When she thought about the night in the cabin, and later his willingness to accept Tyler, her lungs squeezed, almost suffocating her.
She had seen on the ride today how things changed—the pond, the climbing tree. Nothing stayed the same. Her fear of change was irrational at best.
Her fingers quivered with anticipation. Maybe she should alter the terms of her agreement with Jack. Could she give him her body? Willingly? Would that ease his grief?
Shivers of anticipation skittered down her spine. They felt like butterflies before the start of a big race. Alex tossed down the brush and picked up a comb, pulling it through Chief’s coarse, heavy mane.
If she gave herself, she would lose herself—just as she’d done with Brandon. That was a foregone conclusion. To have sex she needed to be in love.
Did she dare consider the possibility of loving Jack?
Turning her attention to Chief’s tail, Alex gently dislodged knots with the comb. She pulled out the long strands of coarse hair, working for a time without thinking at all, lost in a daze.
Until an idea popped fully formed into her mind.
Her hands paused in mid air. Then she dropped the horse’s tail, automatically feathering it out. Her heart thudded against her ribs.
She had already hopelessly lost part of herself. It was a done deal. No turning back. She was emotionally invested in Jack. Her concern was not only for the future of his horse farm, it was for him—as a person.
She cared about him on a much deeper level than as a business partner.
Blanking out further thought, she hurried to unbuckle Chief and turn him free in the stall. She did the same for Dusty, figuring that a horse brought in from the field wouldn’t mind if she skipped his grooming.
Then tingling with excitement, dread, and a certain amount of foolhardiness, Alex left the barn intent on bringing Jack comfort—even for a short while.
* * * *
Alex entered the house through the back door, pausing to remove her boots in the mud room and wash her hands in the utility tub. Passing through the kitchen, she strode into the family room and looked around. Tyler was spending the night at David’s and her mother was in the coach house settling in. Where was Jack?
She stood silently a moment, listening to the tick, tick of the clock on the mantle and letting her eyes adjust to the dim, late afternoon light. Simon wrapped his warm feline body around her ankles, and she reached down to pick him up, cuddling him close for a moment before he squirmed in her arms and she let him go.
Alex took a deep breath fraught with uncertainty. The cozy family room and the calming scent of spiced pumpkin candles called to mind the happiness of hearth and home.
Shutting her eyes, she longed for that happy home where a strong man held her in his arms at night and whispered he loved her. She opened her eyes and sighed.
Then acting on instinct she walked into the study. Jack sat in a well-worn easy chair with his back to the door. Staring at the cold fireplace, he gripped a short glass in his right hand. It was half-full of ice and a dark liquid.
In her sock feet, she padded noiselessly across the floor. Squatting down beside him, Alex lifted her gaze to his face, reading the sadness written in his gray eyes.
“Are you okay?”
“Why do you ask?” He lowered his eyelashes, guarding his eyes.
Her heart cried out. She touched his knee with her hand and he flinched as if struck. Alex let her hand remain, a tenuous link between them, at best.
“I thought you were grieving because of Brandon and Nana.”
His voice was dispassionate. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“It’s hard to lose someone you love.”
“I’m going to lose you too, aren’t I, Alex?” he asked.
She looked down. “Why would you think that?” she asked. “I agreed to move to Breckinridge Station.”
Tension popped between them. He touched her chin and forced her to look at him. His fingers burned her skin. “What if this never becomes your home? Will you want to take Tyler away from here when you decide you’ve sacrificed too much of yourself? He has a trust fund. You don’t need me anymore, Alex.”
“That’s not fair!” Alex sprang to her feet and turned away. She placed a trembling hand on the mantle, fighting her wish to run back to the barn where she felt safe, and battling her more complicated ne
ed to help a man she hadn’t planned on loving.
She sensed him behind her, standing near, his hands hovering close to her shoulders, almost as if he were afraid to touch her.
“God, Alex, you don’t deserve my bad moods.”
He stroked her shoulders, tentatively at first, and then clutched them, as if she were his lifeline. Fire seemed to shoot from his fingers to light her body.
Slowly she turned to face him. With a lazy smile, his gaze explored her face—tracing her brow, lingering on the line of her jaw, resting on her lips. “You’re so beautiful,” he said.
The staccato beat of her heart demanded action. “I’ve changed my mind, Jack. I don’t feel we can live together with this sexual tension between us. I think we need to make this a real marriage.”
Sharp, sudden hunger lit his eyes. Then they became shuttered, cautious. “I promised you,” he said.
“I’m releasing you from your promise.”
“Do you know what you’re doing? Why would you change your mind?”
Alex cut off his words by daring to touch him. Her hands crept up his chest. She lifted up on her toes to look him in the eyes.
“I’ve thought about it.” She unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, looking at that button, not risking a glance at him. “I was childish and stupid. I thought living with you would be different. But you’re a man with a man’s needs and desires.” Her voice broke and she cleared her throat. “And I have needs too. Since we’re in this charade together, I don’t think we can continue it without sleeping with each other.”
“Always a pragmatist, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she said with a shaky laugh, gathering the courage to raise her gaze. “I want to give you something because you have been so generous to Tyler and me.”
Would he take her to bed? If he didn’t, how would she stand his rejection?
Alex shut her eyes against the heat in Jack’s gaze, her mouth tremulous, and her heart hardly beating.
“Damn it, Alex.” He seized her upper arms, pulling her toward him. “I don’t know why you’re doing this.”
She opened her eyes and stared at him. “I told you why.”
“I don’t want your gratitude.”
“I thought if we went to bed together, you wouldn’t feel so sad.”
“I can deal with my grief in my way. I don’t need your help.”
She shook herself free of his grasp and hauled up her chin. “I’m sorry,” she said with all the dignity she could muster. “I made a mistake.”
What had she done? What skewed sense of logic made her even consider asking Jack to have sex? Hard-earned wisdom, designed to protect, had been ignored. Her emotions had plainly gotten in the way. Without a word Alex walked out of the study.
Chapter Twelve
Jack followed her.
“We’re both sweaty from the ride,” he said. Alex turned and glanced into his gray eyes. She squinted at him, confusion ripping through her. “We need to cool off. We need a shower. How about it?”
A surge of shame stilled her tongue. She had asked for this. Begged for it. Did he really want her? After all he’d said moments ago? She had her pride, damn it. His brother had rejected her and this felt too much like déjà vu for her sanity.
“What do you really want from me, Jack?” Was he just trying to please her? Tying to be nice?
“This.” He choked off his response and smothered her mouth with a kiss.
Jack tasted of the liquor he had been drinking. It was long and deep, desperate and sad. Jack’s tongue flicked hesitantly and then parried with hers. Alex gradually kissed him back and succumbed, her passion growing until it was as hot and needy as his.
“Oh...my...God. Why are you doing this to me?” he gasped. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. For a stormy instant, she thought he would take her there in the hall. She wanted it. Him. Jack scooped her into his arms and kicked open the door to the master bedroom. He stripped her quickly, leaving her standing naked beside the king-sized bed to watch him undress.
When he was naked, they examined each other with intense stares. Pulsing with desire. Deliberately not touching. Growing hotter with each heartbeat. Each glance.
He had seen her before, standing by the hot tub in a honeymoon cabin in Tennessee. She had seen him half-clothed at the door to the porch, but nothing prepared her for the sheer magnificence of him—all male and so very ready.
“Alex.” Her name on his lips made her quiver with a longing so deep and primitive she thought she’d die.
Walking toward him, step-by-step, she felt sexy. Wanton. “I’m on the pill,” she said taking care of practical considerations.
“And we are married,” he murmured. “Technically.”
“And legally.”
He laughed. Alex relaxed and smiled up at him. He grabbed her hand, pulling her into the spacious master bathroom.
“Shower or tub?”
Alex shifted, watching the muscles flex along his shoulders and letting her gaze wander down to his bare butt. “Shower. It’s quicker.”
He laughed again. “A girl after my own heart.”
Turning on the faucet, Jack stepped into the spacious glass and tile shower stall and tugged her in after him. They were suddenly wet and slippery. The steam rose around them, encircling them into their private, hot cocoon. They stood face to face, letting the water pelt them.
Jack stroked her arms. “I can’t believe this.”
“Believe it.” Eagerness quivered all the way down her body.
She scooped a glob of her vanilla-scented salt scrub from a jar in the shower stall and rubbed it on his arms. Following her lead, he dug out a scoop of the oil and salty concoction, rubbing it with gentle fingertips across her breasts.
“Ah,” she murmured. Alex shut her eyes and gave into the sensation of his rousing massage. She tilted her head back. The water sluiced through her long hair. “You can do this forever.”
Forever? Had she said that word? Did they have “forever”?
Jack ignored her comment. Instead he ran his fingertips over her nipples and gently cupped her breasts in his hands.
Alex heard a moan coming from deep within. Feral. Primitive. The steady throb increased with every movement of Jack’s hand and the stimulation of the vanilla scrub and hot water flowing over her body. She needed this. Wanted his kisses, his hands on her. This was meant to be.
His fingers didn’t stop. Jack applied more scented scrub, sending jolts throughout her body. Alex surrendered to her mounting need, every nerve ending awakened. How long could she stand his sensual attack?
How long could Jack stand it? She felt the rigid length of him against her belly and knew he was more than ready. He kissed her in a glorious explosion of passion.
“Enough,” Jack groaned. He turned off the water, leaving her soapy and salty.
Then Jack wrapped her in a huge melon-colored terrycloth towel, imprisoning her in the promise of another amorous cocoon. He gathered her into his arms again and like the hero from a romance novel, carried her into the master bedroom and lay her gently down on the king-sized bed.
Lying on the flowered bedspread—exposed to his intense gaze—Alex cried out silently with her whole being. Jack watched her, touching her only with his tender, but hungry gaze. She burned with an all-consuming urgency.
“Alex!” Jack spread open the towel revealing her wet body. Then fell lightly on top of her, bracing himself with one hand by her head.
Systematically, he began again a tantalizing assault upon her skin, drying her with his mouth downward along an erotic path. She writhed beneath him. He worked his way to the tender skin of her stomach, and then nuzzling her inner thighs, he sought out the place where a tidal wave of ecstasy swamped her.
“Oh, Jack,” she sighed his name.
Continuing his methodical seduction, he flicked his wet tongue back and forth, stimulating her pleasure even more. He sucked her gently. Alex moved beneath him, the sensation
too intense to be bearable. Engorged, pliant, needy, she plucked at his wet, tousled hair with her desperate fingers.
“Jack, oh please.”
At her husky plea, he kissed her all the way up her body until he reached her mouth. “I want you.” His voice was husky with unspent passion.
Was he asking permission again?
All Alex could manage was a nod.
Then he parted her thighs, slipping fully within her, filling her, consuming her.
In an action as old as time, Alex wrapped her arms around his neck and brought her hips and legs up to meet his thrusts. She was holding him tightly moments later when he came within her, crying her name. And she joined him, his name on her lips and in her heart.
* * * *
How long had it been since he’d been so completely sated? Relaxed? How long had it been since he’d made love to a woman?
But this wasn’t just any woman. This was Alex. His wife.
Jack opened a lazy eye and regarded her sleeping face with an overwhelming tenderness. God, she was beautiful. So giving and loving. Not that she loved him, but her actions today had been beyond generous.
And it sure as heck had relieved his rotten mood.
Not that she hadn’t enjoyed it too. He smiled to himself, gently brushing her cheek with his fingertips. Her breathing was deep and slow. She didn’t know he was watching her while he held her snuggly in his arms.
Where did they go from here? So many questions. So few answers.
One thing for sure, she had been right. They couldn’t continue living together without this.
Jack lay back on his pillow, his arm cradling Alex. He stared up at the ceiling fan, wishing he had turned it on, longing to feel its cool breeze.
But there hadn’t been time. He smiled again. Things had happened too quickly. Not that he minded. They’d both gotten a little carried away.
Alex had surprised him. He knew she dove into everything with passion and enthusiasm—riding, school, motherhood. That she would make love in the same manner shouldn’t have amazed him. But it did. Up until this point, she had been so carefully controlled where he was concerned. As if she didn’t dare invest her emotions in their marriage.
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