She felt the sting of tears and blinked them away, ruefully aware that her emotions were still far too near the surface. “Thank you.” She could barely speak the words.
“Enough serious talk,” he said lightly. But in his eyes she saw a reflection of her own struggle to understand what was happening between them. He scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed. “Don’t move. I’m coming in after you.”
Laughing softly, she acknowledged something that seemed so simple and yet was so very profound. Conor was fun. With him she felt pieces of her old self coming back. The young woman who had taken Buenos Aires by storm. Studied a handful of languages. Learned about political issues. Snagged fascinating internships. Graduated at the top of her class.
She’d had six job offers on her twenty-second birthday.
All of that seemed like a dream now. She wouldn’t trade Emory for all the employment opportunities in the world. But she did want to reclaim her confidence. That—along with her ability to hope—had been decimated in the accident on Aconcagua.
She hadn’t been on the mountain that day to witness the freak storm and to see the frantic efforts at search and rescue. But she had a good imagination. Those were the scenes that replayed again and again in her nightmares.
Dragging her thoughts from the grim reality that couldn’t be changed, she gave herself up to the pleasure of watching Conor undress. Men did it so differently than women. First the jacket tossed carelessly aside. Then the shirt jerked free of the trousers and the sleeves ripped down the arms.
Conor was clearly impatient, but she wouldn’t have minded if the striptease lasted a little longer. Her fascination must have penetrated his focus, because he stopped suddenly. “What?”
She lifted her arms over her head and linked her hands behind her neck. “Nothing. Just enjoying the show.”
His hands went to his fly, unfastening it with a cocky flourish. “I’ve never been an exhibitionist, but if it turns you on, I’m sure I could drag this out for another half hour.”
Sitting straight up in bed, she held out her hand and crooked her finger. “Don’t you dare!”
Laughing, he finished the job without ceremony, never even noticing when Ellie’s cheeks turned red and her breathing quickened. Once he had dispensed with pants, shoes, socks and underwear, he joined her under the covers, grabbing her up in a bear hug and rolling onto his back with her in his arms, one of his big thighs lodged between hers.
He pulled her head down for a kiss. “I’m sorry I upset you this morning, Ellie.”
She noticed he wouldn’t say he was sorry that he was going to climb the mountain that had killed her husband and maimed her brother. It was a lie, and Conor never lied. “I’m fine,” she said. She didn’t want to ruin the mood, and if she told him how much she hated the idea of him putting himself in danger, that’s what would happen. “Have I mentioned what a fine specimen of manhood you are? I’m surprised I didn’t have to fight off hordes of eager women to make it to your bed.”
“The tales of my exploits are greatly exaggerated.” His big hands palmed her bottom, squeezing gently. “I’m pure as the driven snow.”
“Uh-huh.”
He grinned at her, and her heart stopped. Oh, God. She was so in love with him. How much more self-destructive could she be?
Conor sobered as if he could read her mind. “Relax, Ellie.” He tangled his fingers in her hair. During dinner she’d had it caught up in an antique hair clasp, but somewhere along the way, the delicate ornament had disappeared...right along with her sense of self-preservation.
“I’m relaxed,” she said. “Really, I am.”
He didn’t seem convinced, but when she wiggled against him, his eyes glazed over. He grabbed her knee. “Easy there, darlin’.”
“Sorry. Apparently, I’m eager. Or easy. I can’t decide which.”
“I’ll take either. Or both.” He palmed her nape. “Close your eyes, Ellie. Let me enjoy you.”
His syntax must be wrong, because when he eased her gently onto her back and touched her intimately, she was definitely the one enjoying the caress. Conor had gifted fingers. He stroked and petted and plucked until her back arched off the mattress and she slid into an orgasm as sweet and pure as honey.
When she caught her breath and opened her eyes, Conor had fallen onto his back, his gaze trained on the ceiling. It was a very nice ceiling, but surely he had seen it before.
She swallowed, her throat dry. “Um, that was...”
“Maybe not my best work. I should probably try again.”
* * *
Conor reeled from an extraordinary revelation. He was in love with Ellie. Not falling or on the way or any other euphemism. He was ass over heels, drowning and reaching for a life raft, crazily, wonderfully in love.
He slung an arm over his face, stunned and trying not to let on.
Ellie was still catching her breath. “You’re good at that,” she said, the words slurred.
“You inspire me.”
“Very funny.”
He’d never been more serious in his life. And never in his life had he been so afraid. He could stand at the top of a wicked European black diamond slope and feel no fear at all. The prospect of plunging into the course was nothing but exhilaration.
For years he had relished proving to himself that he was no longer the kid who had to stay inside and watch as his brothers had all the fun. Each time he accomplished some physical goal, he managed to erase more and more of his constrained childhood. Even now with a bum knee and orders not to ski like a crazy man, he was still tempted to try, just for the fun of it.
But this thing with Ellie...that was another story. He wanted all of her. Not just her body, but her sharp mind, her clever wit, her unwavering loyalty and her love. Lord help him, he wanted her love. But that was the one thing he couldn’t have, because that gift had been buried with her dead husband.
He had to pull himself together, or any minute now Ellie was going to see that there was something going on here besides a night of carnal enjoyment.
“Come here, little Ellie. You’re too far away.”
She scooted against him, curling into his embrace as if they had been doing this for months or years. He held her for long minutes, savoring the sense of peace. He wanted to make love to her. And he would, but he wanted a moment to pretend that she was his to keep.
At last, he ran a hand over her flank. “I need you,” he said, the words unvarnished. “It eats me up. I can’t stop thinking about you.” Later he might regret his blunt honesty, but he wanted her to know how much he cared.
“I need you, too, Conor. Make love to me.”
Sometimes sex was playful and sometimes it was erotic and sensuous. Tonight it was almost sacred. He moved into her, closing his eyes at the indescribable feeling of her tight passage clasping him and holding him and making wordless demands.
He would give her everything he had. But it might not be enough. Not enough to make her understand that life moved on and he wanted to move on with her. “Put your legs around my waist,” he whispered. “I want more.”
When she did as he asked, the resultant fit was perfect. He thrust again and again, as deeply as he could go, hard and fast, riding a wave he had no hope of beating. He heard Ellie cry out and knew he was free to take his own pleasure. But he held off a moment more. So he could imagine forever.
In the end, his climax caught him by surprise, ripping through his gut and demanding release.
He came forever, it seemed. And then everything was quiet.
What time was it? He had no clue. An hour might have passed. Or two. He was in heaven...floating on a cloud of bliss that would dissipate as soon as he opened his eyes.
Ellie was under him, their bodies still joined. He cleared his throat. “I can’t feel my legs,” h
e muttered. That fact might have been more alarming had he been less physically replete.
She pinched his thigh just below the buttock. Hard. “Still there,” she said.
He tried to summon the will to move, but it was a no-go. “Am I crushing you?”
“I’m tough. I can handle it.” Laughter lent wings to her words.
He smiled into her neck, inhaling her scent. “I hope you know CPR. If we do this again, I may black out from overexertion.”
“I thought you were the big, tough athlete.”
He felt her fingers comb through his hair. He was in a bad way if such a simply, nonsexual touch could turn him inside out. “We all have our weak spots,” he said. “Apparently, mine is you.”
Fourteen
Apparently, mine is you. Ellie replayed his words in her head. What did they mean? Here she went again, overthinking things.
Deliberately, she let her mind wander, concentrating on each little piece of her current situation. The sheets on Conor’s guest bed were top quality, smooth and cool even in summer. Conor’s weight was comforting. She loved the feeling of connection, both mental and physical.
For this one moment in time, the two of them were in perfect accord. She was pretty sure she could feel his heart thumping against her breasts.
His hairy legs rubbed lazily against hers as if he might accidentally restart the fire. It wouldn’t take much. Every time he gave her an orgasm, her greedy body started plotting for the next one.
“Are you sleepy?” she asked.
At last he shifted onto his back, yawning, leaving her bereft. “Give me fifteen minutes,” he said, the words rough and low. He had one arm flung over his face. “And I’ll be good to go again.”
He was as good as his word. Twice...and once more during the night. The last time was somewhere around three in the morning. They finally decided they had to sleep, given that a baby was going to wake them up in a matter of hours.
Conor didn’t bother asking her which half of the bed she wanted. He dragged her against his side, cuddling her close with one muscular arm.
She was sated and exhausted, but she didn’t want to close her eyes when she had Conor all to herself. His breathing was slow and steady. She couldn’t tell if he was actually asleep.
Was she ever going to tell him about Kevin? She knew there was no hope of anything serious unless she bared her soul. But a bared soul was so very raw and easily hurt. Conor’s reaction was something she couldn’t calculate.
He tugged a strand of her hair. “Go to sleep, Ell.” The command was gravelly, his voice rough with fatigue. “Your son is not going to care that his mother has been awake all night.”
“I know.”
After another long silence, when she thought that surely Conor was asleep, he surprised her. “I wish Emory was mine. I wish I had been the first man to love you.”
The giant boulder in her throat made it hard to speak. “Well, in a way you were,” she said, tracing the silky line of hair near his navel. “It was puppy love, maybe. But still love, according to you.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes.” He wished Kevin had never existed...had never wooed and married Ellie.
Conor tugged the light blanket over their shoulders. “Will you tell me about him...please? I want to know what he was like. He clearly had good taste in women.”
The irony choked her. “I can’t,” she said, feeling the familiar tug of despair. “I can’t, Conor. I’m sorry.” Because if she told him the truth, he would walk away from her and never come back.
* * *
Conor slept in snatches until he heard the first sounds from Emory via the baby monitor. The toddler was used to him now and gave him a happy smile as Conor picked him up. After a clean diaper, the two men went in search of milk and cereal. Emory was hungry, so the meal was quick.
Conor, on the other hand, had no appetite at all. Until the middle of the night, he’d cruised on a high of endorphins, sure that he was winning Ellie over to his camp.
But it wasn’t so. Things were the same as they had always been. Ellie couldn’t bear to talk about her dead husband, and especially not to Conor.
When Emory’s belly was full, Conor took him back to the bedroom and slid into bed beside Ellie. She stirred and lifted up on one elbow, swiping her hair from her face. She looked young and beautiful and confused.
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
He shrugged. “I thought you could use the sleep. I’m always up early no matter how late I go to bed.”
His oblique reference to their lovemaking was deliberate. He wanted to remind her they were good together. Incredibly incendiary, to be exact.
Ellie didn’t appear to notice. She took Emory in her arms and nuzzled his neck. Suddenly, she must have realized that she was naked. “Ohmigosh, Conor. Bring me my robe.”
“I’m sure he’s seen you au naturel.”
“Yes. But he was too young to understand. I don’t want to scar him for life.”
Conor rolled his eyes. “Do you worry about everything?”
“It’s what mothers do. Comes with the territory.”
He touched her arm. “My mother adores babies. And she knows you’ve had a difficult week. When I spoke to her yesterday, she offered to keep Emory for the morning so you and I can get away. Go for a drive. Walk in the mountains. Swim at Blackwoods Lake.”
Ellie’s mouth curved. “I’d forgotten about that. You and Kirby went skinny-dipping and left me on the shore. I was so mad at both of you.”
“Well, it wasn’t exactly appropriate as a group activity. But nothing’s stopping us now.”
“True. Does your mother really have time to babysit? Isn’t Silver Beeches super busy this time of year?”
“It is. But Liam has insisted that Mom start taking some time off. She ran this family and the family business solo for a great many years. She deserves to have some fun.”
Ellie lifted an eyebrow. “Changing diapers is fun?”
Conor bumped noses with Emory, making him chortle with glee. “I think your mama’s insulting you, little man.”
Ellie hugged her son close. “I am not. But babies aren’t easy.”
“Trust me. Mom suggested a visit to Gavin and Cassidy’s house so he can play with the twins. It will be an epic playdate. If you don’t object, we’ll let Mom take your car so we won’t have to move the seat.”
“It’s lovely of her to offer, and I accept.”
He cocked his head, studying her face in silence.
“What?” she asked. “What’s the big deal?”
“I expected to get the Silver Glen version of the Spanish Inquisition. I had my answers all ready.”
“Are you disappointed that I’m being amenable?”
He leaned over her and kissed the shell of her ear. “I love it when you’re amenable.” His lips found hers, and despite the squirmy bundle in her arms, they managed a breath-stealing kiss.
“Can you juggle him while I take a shower?”
Conor sighed inwardly. What he wanted was to climb back into bed with a naked delicious Ellie. “Sure. Hand him over.”
* * *
An hour later, they headed out. With a list of instructions and a bulging diaper bag, Maeve Kavanagh drove away in Ellie’s car, leaving her own at Conor’s house. She was tickled pink to have the social and outgoing Emory in her care.
Conor pointed his vehicle in the opposite direction from town, soon accessing a narrow road he hadn’t followed since he was a teenager. Ellie glanced around the leafy lane with a smile. “It’s just like I remember it,” she said. Two deep tire tracks in the dirt required all of his concentration to keep his low-slung car from getting hung up in the weeds.
When they rounded a curve, the tiny la
ke came into view, more of a pond really. A long-ago property owner had damned up the creek to create a swimming hole. The water was smooth, the mirrored surface reflecting a cloudless sky. Weeping willows fringed the entire oval except for a small area where someone had dumped a truckload of white sand to make a beach.
Conor hadn’t kept up with who owned the acreage currently. But high school kids had come up here for years, making out and taking midnight swims. With an absence of No Trespassing signs, it was a harmless enough pursuit.
On the other hand, when two full-grown adults decided to ignore the fact that they had no right to be here, the law might be fuzzy. Conor parked in the shade of the largest willow and rolled down the windows. Though it wasn’t yet noon, the temperature was merciless. The mountains of North Carolina were normally cool and pleasant even in summer, but a record heat wave had moved in with no relief in sight.
He and Ellie got out of the car and stood side by side, staring at the beckoning water.
Ellie wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like the idea of wading in not knowing what I’m going to find underfoot.”
“Then leave your sneakers on.” He already wore his swim trunks. All he had to take off was his shirt.
Ellie, on the other hand, had donned a simple cotton sundress with an elastic waist. Presumably, her swimsuit was underneath. “I will.”
He ruffled the ends of her ponytail. “I don’t suppose I could get you to try the skinny-dipping thing...” He brushed the nape of her neck deliberately.
Ellie took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Um, no. I have a healthy aversion to being arrested.”
“Spoilsport.” He opened the trunk of the car to take out their beach towels and a small cooler. When he turned back around, Ellie was standing there in a black bikini.
He dropped the cooler on his toe.
While he danced around and cursed under his breath, Ellie laughed at him, her face lit up from within. It struck him then, just how much this past year and a half had taken away her glow. Though he hadn’t seen her in years, he knew that the adult Ellie would have possessed the same joie de vivre that had made young Ellie so irresistible.
Second Chance with the Billionaire Page 13
