by Diana Palmer
He looked at her with undisguised hunger. “No. I don’t suppose it does. I was unsure of you.”
She smiled. “And now?”
“And now.” He laughed softly. His free hand touched her face. The smile faded. “I’ve made you unhappy. I’ve hurt you and scorned you, all because I didn’t trust you. But if I’d known how you felt, there wouldn’t have been any doubts. None. Can you believe that, and forgive me for the way I’ve treated you?”
“I love you,” she said simply. “Nothing else matters.” She reached up and kissed him hungrily. “I understand why you thought what you did, Justin. It was my father’s mischief-making, not anything either of us did that caused such heartache. But now it’s enough that you love me. It’s everything.”
He put down his cup and hers and drew her across his lap, holding her hungrily. “I’d take back the whole six years, if I could,” he whispered huskily. “I’d do anything to make it up to you.”
“Justin…you’ve already made it up to me,” she said with soft hesitation. She took his lean hand and pressed it slowly, gently, to her still-flat abdomen. She held it there and searched his eyes. “I’m carrying your baby.”
He knew. But hearing it from her made it profound and infinitely touching. He caressed the softness gently and, bending, brought her mouth under his to kiss her with exquisite caring.
“Shelby,” he whispered. He kissed her again. “Shelby. You and a baby…”
“You aren’t sorry?” she whispered, softly teasing.
He smiled at her with pride and love in his dark eyes. “I’m not sorry about anything. Are we having a son or a daughter?”
“I don’t care, as long as we have a healthy baby.” She reached up to hold him. “And I’m quitting my job, in case I haven’t mentioned it. I think Tammy and the boss are going to be very happy without me.”
“I’m going to be very happy with you, if this is what you really want,” he said. He traced her lips with a long finger. “I won’t cheat you of outside interests, if you want them. I won’t insist that you be only a wife and mother.”
“I won’t be,” she assured him, “although that’s going to be my most important job for a little while. Then I may take courses or do some volunteer work. But right now, the baby is my main concern.”
He laughed softly. “How long?” he whispered.
“I think I’m just at six weeks,” she whispered back. “I’m going to the doctor next week to make sure.”
“The first time we made love,” he breathed, holding her eyes. “Wasn’t it?”
She hid her face against him, laughing with shy embarrassment. “Yes.”
“I’m good,” he murmured dryly.
She pressed closer. “You’re very good,” she whispered and lifted her face.
He bent, easing his mouth down onto hers, caressing it. She relaxed against him, loving his touch, loving the strength of his body so close to hers. She sighed, and the sound went into his mouth, kindling a new and overwhelming desire.
Her hands slid around to the back of his head and he drew her hips against his, turning her, while his mouth became more and more demanding.
He wanted her. She knew the signs now, in ways she hadn’t before. And she moaned, because he loved her and she loved him, and this time would be different than the other times. It would be the most poignant time of their lives.
“Do you want me?” he whispered against her lips. “Because I want you. Right here.”
“The first time…was right here,” she breathed, jerking a little when his hand eased between them to work at the pearly buttons down the front of her gray dress.
“It’s handy.” He chuckled, the sound rich and deep with love. “But there’s always the carpet.”
Her eyes searched his. “How kinky.”
“Not at all. It’s thick and soft…and there’s no one to see us. And just to make sure…”
He got up, still smiling, and went to close and lock the door. He took off his shirt, watching the way her eyes went to the thick curling hair that arrowed down to the belt of his jeans. He liked the way she looked at him. Her eyes grew dark and soft and faintly sensuous.
He drew her up from the sofa, putting her hands on his chest, smoothing them over the warm, pulsating muscle. “Is it dangerous for the baby?” he asked softly.
She shook her head and pressed her lips against him. “Not if you’re gentle. And when have you ever hurt me?”
“No regrets, Shelby?” he asked, hesitating.
She reached up to put her mouth against his. “Not even one.”
His hands caught her hips and pulled them into his, moving her body with his so that she felt the force of his need. Her body reacted to it in a now familiar way and she reached up to get closer, signaling her hunger in subtle ways.
She kissed him until her lips grew swollen and tender, until her body began to feel the familiar hot shakiness that he aroused so easily in her.
He eased her down onto the carpet, sliding alongside her easily. He had her dress unbuttoned and her undergarments out of the way with lazy skill, and then she felt his mouth, and all her inhibitions went out the window.
She held his mouth against her, drowning in its moist caresses, loving the way he was with her. There had never been any fear of intimacy since their first time. Her body knew what kind of pleasure lay ahead, and now it reacted with delight, not apprehension.
For long, lazy minutes, he aroused her, not satisfied until she was trembling from head to toe and completely at his mercy. Only then did he undress himself, feasting on her soft curves and creamy skin while he discarded the rest of his clothing and lay back down beside her.
She looked up with misty eyes as he arched above her, catching his weight on his powerful arms, and she felt the exquisite tracing of his skin on hers as he eased down over her.
Her breath jerked at the first touch of him, and he laughed wickedly.
“It shouldn’t shock you anymore,” he whispered at her lips as he moved even closer. “You’re an old married woman now.”
“It isn’t shock, it’s…pleasure!” She clutched at him as he began to move. She buried her mouth against his shoulder, moaning again as his body merged so gently with hers. “Justin!”
“I love you,” he whispered softly. “I’ve never really shown you how much, but now I’m going to. Lie still for me, little one. Let me take you straight into the sun.” He eased his mouth over hers, and began to speak to her in husky whispers, in fluent Spanish. Love words. Descriptive words that he punctuated with slow caresses and tender tracings that made her weep with new pleasure. There was no holding back this time, no hidden worry, no barrier. He adjusted his movements to the needs of her body, taking his time, treating her with exquisite tenderness. And somewhere in the slow fire of it, she heard her voice cry out as she followed him into the whirlwind of fulfillment.
She couldn’t stop trembling afterward. She clung to his shoulders, trying to keep her breathing steady, her heartbeat from shaking her. But he seemed just as affected, which made it less inhibiting.
“It’s all right.” He soothed her with his hands, kissing her face gently with lips that adored her. “It’s all right. It’s just the shock of coming down from such a height, sweetheart,” he breathed. “I feel it, too.”
“It’s never been like this before,” she whispered brokenly.
“But we never made love like this before,” he whispered back. He lifted his head to search her dazed eyes. “Not this completely.”
She touched his mouth with trembling fingers, lost in him, totally his. “I don’t want to stop.”
“Neither do I,” he whispered softly. “We don’t have to. We’re alone in the house, with nothing else to do. We’ll go upstairs and see if we can top what we’ve just had together.”
> He got up slowly, picked her up and started for the door.
“Justin, our clothes,” she whispered, glancing back at the very evident turmoil of their garments leaving a visible trail.
He balanced her on his leg and unlocked the door. He opened it and started up the long staircase with her cradled against his damp, hair-roughened chest. “They’ll still be there when we get back,” he promised.
“But we don’t have any clothes on,” she protested.
He looked down at the pretty pink body in his arms with pure pride of possession. “I noticed.”
“But Maria and Lopez…”
“…won’t be back tonight.” He put his mouth over hers. After a few seconds of it, she began to cling to him, loving the feel of him against her soft bareness. Loving, she thought while she could, was the most incredible pleasure. She kissed him back, all thought of arguing gone from her whirling mind.
It was longer the second time. He drew it out, his voice soft and slow, speaking partly in Spanish as he taught her new words and coached her in their enunciation. And all the while, he touched her, adored her with his hands and his eyes, whispered all she meant to him, how pleased he was about the baby they’d made. They reached heights they’d never scaled, and it was almost dark when they awoke in each other’s arms.
“We slept,” she murmured.
“No wonder.” He grinned down at her, laughing when she blushed.
“I’m thirsty,” she whispered.
“So am I.” He got up, stretching lazily while her eyes adored his blatant nudity. “How about something cold and icy? And something to nibble on?”
“That would be lovely.” She moved against the sheets, her eyes sultry. “Don’t be long.”
He chuckled. “I’ll be back before you miss me.”
He looked around for something to put on. His clothes were downstairs. Finally he went into the bathroom and came out with a huge colored beach towel with a giant frog on it. It was her bedroom he’d carried her to, and there was a noticeable shortage of male clothing.
“Damned flashy thing,” he muttered, glaring playfully at her as he wrapped it around his hips. “You couldn’t buy a plain one, I don’t suppose?”
“I like frogs,” she murmured.
He arched an eyebrow and, ignoring Shelby’s giggles, went downstairs.
He filled two glasses with ice and sweetened tea from the refrigerator, made ham sandwiches, and put it all on a tray. He went out of the kitchen into the hall and paused at the foot of the staircase to adjust his slipping towel when the front door suddenly opened and Calhoun walked in.
He stopped dead, staring at his taciturn, very dignified brother standing in the hall with a giant frog towel wrapped around his lean hips. Justin was carrying a tray full of food and drink and he looked…strange.
“I thought you and Shelby were coming to supper,” Calhoun began.
“Supper?” Justin echoed.
“Supper. It’s almost seven. You didn’t call and your phone seems to be off the hook. We were afraid something might have happened, so I came over to see about you.”
Justin blinked. He’d taken the phone off the hook when he’d carried Shelby upstairs. He looked down at his towel. “Nothing’s wrong. I was, uh, just taking a bath,” he improvised, a little embarrassed at being caught in such a compromising situation even in his own home.
Calhoun noticed the open door of the living room and the trail of clothing. “In the living room?” he asked. “And since when do you wear dresses?”
Justin glared at him, his lips in a thin line. “I was sorting clothes at the same time. Then I got hungry.”
“You were invited to supper.”
“I got hungry first. I was going to have a bite to eat before I started getting ready.” His complexion had gone ruddy by now.
Calhoun was grinning from ear to ear. “In the shower?”
“I was going to eat first,” Justin said stubbornly.
“Where’s Shelby?” Calhoun asked curiously.
Justin cleared his throat. “Upstairs. She was tired.”
Just then, a plaintive voice came from upstairs. “Justin, are you ever coming back?” Shelby moaned. “I’m lonely.”
Justin’s face went scarlet. “I’ll be right there!” he called tersely. He glared harder at Calhoun. “She’s taking a shower, too.”
Calhoun had to stifle laughter. He grinned knowingly at his older brother and turned on his heel. “When you finish your snack in the shower and get through sorting clothes, come on over and we’ll feed you.” He glanced at the towel. “Better put on some pants first, though, we wouldn’t want to shock Abby. Honest to God, Justin, a frog?”
“It was the only damned thing I could find, and what’s it to you?” Justin demanded hotly.
“Oh, I think it suits you,” Calhoun replied. “I like frogs.”
“We forgot the time,” Justin said stiffly. “We’ll be there in about thirty minutes, if it’s convenient.”
“No rush.” Calhoun grinned wickedly. “If you think the living-room carpet is a good place, you ought to try it in a whirlpool bath,” he murmured, and got out quick, because Justin looked torn between shock and homicide.
Justin carried the tray upstairs, his dignity bruised, and put it on the bedside table.
“Iced tea! I’m parched.” Shelby laughed and picked up her glass to drink thirstily. “I heard voices.”
“Calhoun came to see where we were,” Justin muttered. “We were invited to supper, remember?”
“I didn’t think about it,” Shelby confessed.
“Neither did I. We can go in a half hour. Still want a snack first?”
“Maybe we’d better wait. We can always have them for a bedtime snack. I’ll wrap them up and put them in the refrigerator when I’ve dressed.” She looked at her husband lovingly. “Calhoun and Abby are married, too,” she reminded him. “It’s not so shocking to be caught spending the afternoon in bed with your wife, is it?”
He shifted. “No. But it’s uncomfortable,” he confessed with a wry glance. “Six years of celibacy makes a man secretive, I guess.”
“Six years.” She reached up and kissed him very tenderly. “I thought I’d made you too bitter to sleep with anyone else. But it wasn’t that at all, was it, Justin?” she asked quietly.
He touched her fingers to his lips. “I didn’t want anyone else,” he said with a sigh. “I loved you too much. It was you or nobody.”
She had to bite her lip to stem the tears. “That’s how I felt. I tried so hard to protect you,” she whispered.
“I was doing the same thing for you, when we got married. I suppose both of us went overboard, though.”
“But no more.” She smiled. “Now we’ll use our protective instincts on our baby.”
“That sounds like a good idea.” He bent and kissed her. “We’d better get dressed and go see the in-laws, little mama,” he murmured. “Before they come back.”
“It was nice of Abby to invite us.”
“Yes. I hope you feel up to what’s coming,” he added. “Knowing Calhoun, it’s going to be a trying supper.”
She laughed, hiding her face against him. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, honey.” He got up, frog and all. “Shelby, would you have told me about the baby if Calhoun hadn’t gotten me to the airport on time?”
She nodded. “It was your right. I wasn’t really leaving you, Justin, I just needed a little time to think things through. I’d have come back. I’m not equipped to live without you any more.” She stared at him hungrily. “Were you coming after me?”
“Of course.” He chuckled. “I figured I’d spend several months searching the city for you, but that wouldn’t have stopped me. I felt bad about what I’d said and done.
But it was because I loved you that I’d have gone looking for you, honey, not out of guilt.”
“Yes. Now I know.” She sighed lazily, so much in love with him that she felt near to bursting with it. “I could eat a horse.”
“I’ll phone Abby to cook one. Get up and get your clothes on, woman. I’m starving.”
“Don’t look at me. Not eating was your idea.”
She got out of bed and he swung her up against him, his eyes full of tenderness. “It sure was. I take these spells from time to time.” He bent and kissed her. “Will you mind?”
She linked her arms around his neck and held him closer. “I won’t mind at all.”
Outside the night sky grew even darker, and a few miles down the road, Abby was starting to reheat the meat and vegetables in her Irish stew one last time. She’d tried to tell Calhoun that champagne didn’t really go with such a simple dish, but he was too busy chilling it to listen. So Abby just laughed, and got down her best champagne flutes. Maybe he was right at that. It did seem like a good night for a celebration.
* * * * *
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ISBN: 9781488707780
TITLE: JUSTIN
First Australian Publication 2014
Copyright © 2014 Diana Palmer
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilisation of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the permission of the publisher, Harlequin Mills & Boon®, Locked Bag 7002, Chatswood D.C. N.S.W., Australia 2067.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
