Ain’t Misbehaving

by Jennifer Greene

  “Sounds to me as if you were hell on wheels. The stories you told me were tame next to the ones your mother remembers.”

  “Hey. Who are you going to believe? My mother or me?”

  “Your mother.”

  “Talk about fickle. I’m going to trade you in for a more gullible model.”

  Kay leaned back against the headrest, smiling. The heat kicked in, puffing through the vents in wonderfully warm waves. Through sleepy eyes, she regarded Mitch. His hands were firm on the wheel and he was battling icy roads, yet his tone was light and his smile relaxed. He hid things so very well.

  The evening had uncovered more secrets about him. His parents were affectionate but not possessive or clingy; Kay could see the respect Aaron had for his son. Mitch had hardly been a pampered only child if he’d had to mow lawns at eleven-yet there was the pool.

  Kay frowned slightly in the darkness. Something still bothered her about the pool. The Cochrans, for all the comfort and tasteful furnishings of their home, did not strike her as extravagant-and the lake was right there to swim in. Jane had said of course it was for Mitch, as if she’d taken for granted that Kay understood…something.

  She half turned her head, still studying Mitch. He’d worn a brown sweater and dark flannel pants tonight. Even in the shadows of the car, she could see his strong profile, the deep-set eyes, the slash of a lazy smile when he felt her eyes on him. He was really an incredibly handsome man, yet those deeply etched lines on his forehead were more than just marks of character, and as she looked at the streak of white hair she wondered suddenly how she could have been blind for so long.

  Mitch had been ill. Really ill.

  The scar, the white hair, the lines, his unwillingness to talk about his recent past, and maybe even the pool had something to do with it. As she continued to look at him, she could excuse herself for not guessing before. He seemed so vibrant, so healthy and dynamic. The Marlboro Man was a sissy compared to the special brand of virility that Mitch so naturally radiated.

  “Why so quiet?” he said softly.

  “I thought you had enough to do just driving on these icy roads.”

  “Nothing to worry about,” he assured her.

  She shook her head. “I wasn’t.” Not as long as he was at the wheel. It was Mitch who had something to worry about, she thought wryly. Because his plan to leave her at her door like a gentleman was about to go awry. She had her own plan.

  ***

  An hour later, Mitch pulled into her driveway. Tension played at the back of his shoulders and arms. The roads had turned increasingly glassy, not that he would have pointed that out to Kay. It hadn’t been the easiest of evenings as it was. After two mentions of Kay’s name, his mother had started pushing to meet her; he’d wanted his parents to meet her, but he hadn’t wanted his whole history laid out before her. And, apparently, it hadn’t been.

  Perhaps he should have been easier on that score. His mother might be gregarious, but she had respected his desire to keep his heart problems a family secret from the day she’d learned it mattered to him. Still, he was relieved that the evening was over. Shutting off the engine, he glanced at Kay.

  She was sleepily curled up on the passenger seat, his temptress. Her lashes curled on her cheeks, all delicate shadows, and her lips looked red and invitingly soft against her white face. She was buried in clothes, her collar tucked up against her chin, not even her soft angora sweater showing beneath the coat. Considering he could barely see an inch of exposed flesh, he wasn’t quite sure why just the look of her turned him on like a power switch.

  He’d done his level best to keep his physical distance in the past few weeks. His level best was a failure. Not touching her was impossible…yet the more he touched, the more he felt that barrier of inhibition at the thought of making love to her. Time wasn’t helping.

  He wanted Kay. He’d rather do without sunlight than stop seeing her; he could barely remember what his life had been like before he knew her. She warmed the wintry places, lit up the darkness, filled the big, empty spaces.

  The touch of her inflamed him; even the simplest kiss set off a driving ache that clawed at his stomach and shuddered through him like a demon. He knew if he made love to her that it wouldn’t go well. He’d lose control, because he came so damn close to losing control as it was. She’d find herself with a fumbling, inept lover who would utterly fail her… He couldn’t stand the thought of failing her.

  He leaned over, softly nudging her chin up with his curved fingers. His lips brushed hers like a whisper, and she smiled.

  “I thought you’d fallen asleep,” he teased.

  “I…nearly did,” Kay murmured.

  He kissed her again, unable to deny himself that contact, wondering exactly why he was asking for more torture yet inviting it anyway. Her head tilted back so temptingly; her lips parted under his. He couldn’t prevent his arms from tightening around her when he felt her fingers glide up into his hair, drawing him back in and closer.

  Gently, his tongue stole inside her parted lips. He made love to her mouth as he wanted to make love to her body. An infinitely gentle probing, a stroke into her soft, moist hollows, a withdrawal to taste and tease and that insistent intrusion again, less teasing this time, but a claim, a fierce, sweet possession…

  He drew back, his breathing erratic, every muscle in his body so tense with frustration that he had to suppress a groan. He traced a gentle finger on her cheek. “I intended to have you home early tonight. We’ve been up late every night for how many nights now?”

  “Four out of five,” she murmured, but she certainly didn’t sound as if she minded.

  “Tomorrow-”

  “You promised to take me skating,” she reminded him.

  As if it mattered what they did. He tried to smile, drawing back. “Nine o’clock, wasn’t that your idea?”

  She nodded.

  “We’d better get you in so you can catch a good night’s sleep.”

  “I do need,” Kay murmured, “a good night’s sleep.”

  There was a strange little inflection in her voice. Mitch’s eyes flickered swiftly on hers. Then he got out of the car, the wind whipping around him abruptly, and hurried over to her side. He tried to shield the wind from her as she stepped out. “Turning into a regular gale,” he said gruffly. “If we don’t hustle, you’ll be an icicle.”

  He had her protectively tucked into his shoulder, yet she barely took three steps before she suddenly stumbled.

  He grinned, tightening his arm around her as they moved toward the front door. “My mother’s port?” he whispered teasingly.

  Her fingertips suddenly brushed her temples. “Mitch?”

  Her voice sounded oddly weak, not at all like Kay. Alarm pulsed through him as he hurried her the rest of the way to the door. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Really, nothing.” She fumbled for the key in her purse, then suddenly leaned against the house, her face in the shadows so that he could see only her big dark eyes. “Mitch, I don’t feel well. So…dizzy all of a sudden.”

  “All right. Just take it easy.” His voice was soothing, yet he instantly took control. With one arm firmly around her, he groped for her key, unlocked the door and propelled her into the warm house.

  “I’m so hot…” She swayed in the doorway.

  Not wasting a second, Mitch shoved the door closed behind them and groped for a light switch. Rapidly, he unbuttoned her coat, trying to get a good look at her. Her face was tilted down; he couldn’t see her eyes, but her cheeks looked flushed. When he’d tossed her coat on the chair, he half carried her to the couch. “Okay, now, honey, just sit down.”

  “I keep seeing double of everything…”

  “Head down.” She resisted the ignominious position of her head between her knees, but he insisted. “I’m going to get you a drink of water, Kay. Please stay there a minute.”

  “No. I just… Stay with me, Mitch. I don’t want any water. I feel so…cold.”

>   A moment before, she’d said she was hot. Mitch frowned and hesitated a moment. Stay calm, ordered a rational voice in his head. Everyone got sick once in a while; Kay was entitled to feel ill, occasionally.

  Only she wasn’t entitled. Not Kay. He couldn’t stand the thought of anything being wrong with Kay; he’d had too much pain in his own life and wasn’t about to let her suffer any. Aware that his reactions were both emotional and irrational, he scooped her up in his arms. “We’ll just get you into bed,” he said firmly. “And I don’t want any arguments. If you don’t feel better in a few minutes, I’m going to call a doctor.”

  Her head abruptly jerked back against his shoulder. “There’s no need for that.”

  He would have smiled at the sudden anxiety in her eyes, if he hadn’t been frantically worried about her. “You’re not scared of doctors, little one?”

  “No. I just…my doctor doesn’t make house calls. In the morning, I can call him-if I still feel ill.”

  “Who said anything about your doctor? Mine will be out here in fifteen minutes flat if I call him.” Kay was badly mistaken if she thought he’d trust her welfare to a stranger’s care. Mitch led her into her bedroom and sat down on the bed with her, glancing at the pale violet walls. The room even smelled like her. Pushing her head to his chest, he pulled off one sleeve of her sweater. “Where are your nightgowns, Kay?”

  “Look. There’s no need for a doctor.” Kay’s voice was muffled through the angora sweater. “It’s just…shrimp.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Shrimp.”

  He paused, then realized he had the sweater stuck over her head and quickly tugged it off. “You mean my mother’s shrimp?”

  “I have…an allergy.”

  Kay’s head hung low; he was afraid she was going to lose her dinner. “An allergy? How could you be so silly as to eat shrimp if you knew-”

  “I…thought I’d outgrown it. It isn’t a stomach kind of sick-it’s just this…dizziness. And feeling so cold. Mitch, I’m freezing!”

  “It’s going to be okay, honey.” He stopped only once to run a hand through his hair, then went into action. The bottom drawer held nightgowns, or negligees, or whatever you called them. None of them looked warm enough, not when her teeth were chattering. When he finally found what looked like a cozy garment, she’d kicked her shoes off and was trying to tug off her nylons.

  “I’ll do that, dammit,” he said fiercely. “You just lie down.”

  “I’ll be fine in…a while. Really, you can go home, Mitch. I’ve managed before…”

  “Don’t be ridiculous!” He pulled off the stockings, then her skirt, then tried to put the nightgown on her.

  “I can’t sleep in my-”

  “I thought you’d be warmer,” he said flatly.

  She shook her head, very weakly, her hair hanging like a curtain in front of her face. “It…binds.”

  His fingers fumbled for the front hook, only to discover she’d opted for a back-hooked bra this time. A double back hook. Dammit. Couldn’t the woman decide which obstacle course to set in front of him?

  But then it was off and her breasts were free, white and soft, for a moment almost spilling into his hands. A little ball lodged in his throat and wouldn’t let him swallow. He tugged the nightgown over her head.“I have to take off my-”

  “All right.” He slipped his hands underneath the striped flannel nightgown to pull down her satin half-slip. Rather than hear another argument, he slipped off the black satin panties as well. “Now get under the covers!”

  Goodness. That sounded distinctly like a roar delivered between clenched teeth.

  Kay, you are a wicked, immoral woman, her conscience informed her. And you’d certainly better make this good, because he will never forgive you if he discovers you’re putting on an act.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Mitch, you’re not leaving?”

  “Of course I’m not leaving.” Tucking the comforter under her chin, he frowned furiously at her, as if she’d suggested something preposterous. “I still think I should call the doctor-how long do these attacks usually last?”

  “Not very long,” she said swiftly. “The worst is right now, really. Could you just…hold me?” When Mitch hesitated, she said softly, “I know it’s silly. It’s just that I’m never sick. When I get dizzy like that, it’s kind of…frightening.”

  Mitch moved forward instantly. “I know exactly what it feels like,” he said gently, “to be frightened when you’re ill. I’ll be here, I promise you.”

  Guilt lanced through her at the emotional tremor in his voice. So, though, did other emotions as she watched him sit down at the foot of the bed and push off his shoes. His Adam’s apple was throbbing, particularly when his eyes swiveled around and assessed the infinitely comfortable expanse of bed. Very gingerly, he stretched out next to her, leaning up on one elbow to study her with narrowed eyes. “You don’t look flushed anymore,” he said gravely.

  “The fever comes and goes. Mitch…” She raised her palm innocently to his chest. “You’re not going to be comfortable like that,” she whispered. “You’ll broil with the sweater on, and if you’re going to stay-not that you have to, just because I feel a little ill-”

  “You practically collapsed at the door,” he said flatly, and sat up to tug off his sweater. “And if I ever catch you eating shrimp again-”

  “Mitch, I’m so cold…”

  Lying down and sliding an arm around her, he hugged her to his chest and at the same time ripped the comforter away from her. Leaving it tucked around her like that was no good. Wrapping her in it would be better. Fiercely protective instincts swamped him, a purely male conviction that no one had a right to take care of her but him. The lower half of his body was clamoring about other male instincts, but he was trying to ignore that. “If you ever-” he repeated.

  With alarm, she realized he was planning to swaddle her like a mummy. She wiggled out of the blanket and closer to him, her arm snaking around his ribs. “This is better, much better,” she murmured. “I don’t feel nearly as dizzy. But your belt is sticking me.”

  There was something in her voice… His hand abruptly stilled.

  “Is it?”

  “Very sharp,” Kay affirmed.

  Her heart was beating erratically under his palm. Her flesh was warm, terribly warm; he could feel that heat even through her nightgown. And she was trembling-actually, a violent tremble shuddered through her body when his fingers, totally by accident, made contact with the soft swell of her breasts. And suddenly her heartbeat kicked in like a motorboat.

  A very, very healthy motorboat. The thing was, Mitch was an expert in arrhythmia and galloping heartbeats. Kay’s pulse lacked even an itty-bitty symptom of stress. Further, the allegedly ill lady beside him was playing with his belt, and when he gently tried to nudge up her chin she wouldn’t meet his eyes.

  His voice came out as soft as butter. “You’ve had this allergy a long time, have you?”

  “Years.”

  “And you still feel cold?”

  “Freezing.”

  Without another word, he untangled himself from her and stood up. Stalking around to the other side of the bed, he turned off the light. In the darkness, Kay could hear him removing his clothing, first the sound of a zipper, then fabric whooshing to the floor, and then silence.

  A long silence. It seemed an eternity later that she felt the comforter being lifted, and Mitch, warm and certainly huge, slide in beside her. His long leg made contact with hers…pinning hers, actually, even as his arm seductively slid beneath her shoulders and folded her close. “Do you know something?” he murmured.

  “Hmm?” He was bare and warm and pure male, the scent of him instantly surrounding her. Primitive drum rolls announced themselves in her bloodstream. Every pore was aware of him. For some absolutely crazy reason, she couldn’t stop the vulnerable quiver that chased up her spine.

  His palm slid down her back, pushed up her nightgown and spla
yed on her bare bottom with an intimacy that she didn’t object to-it was just that Mitch had never been quite so aggressive before. “Kay?” he murmured softly. “You’re all through playing, lady. And I have this strange sudden impulse to take this big hand of mine…”

  Those fingers of his drummed on her sensitive skin.

  “Listen,” she said hastily.

  “If I were you, I would be extremely quiet right now.” He found her lips in the darkness with no trouble at all.

  She’d expected the kiss to be angry. It wasn’t. A gentle series of swift, soft kisses explored the shape of her mouth, and then faster than she could draw breath his lips crushed hers. Her lashes fluttered closed, and her fingertips climbed up to his shoulders. Over and over his mouth seared hers, clouding her ability to think.

  She tensed, involuntarily, as if her body were suddenly aware it had unleashed a sleeping giant. Mitch wasn’t a man to be led on a string, in bed or out of it, and she suddenly felt as vulnerable as a butterfly. Yes, she’d wanted him to make love to her, but it was very rapidly occurring to her that making love to Mitch was not going to be like any other experience she’d ever had.

  In one swift movement, he pulled off her nightgown. On the next stroke down, his hand traced the line from her thigh to her hip with a boldness that inflamed every inch of her flesh. “You thought you needed to trick me into wanting you?” he murmured. “I’ve wanted you from the instant I first laid eyes on you. You really didn’t know that?”

  “Mitch-”

  “I’ve dreamed of making love to you so many times, Kay. You’re so beautiful…your skin…the feel of you…”

  Even in the darkness, she could see the glowing sheen of a fierce desire in his eyes. She watched his eyes even as she felt his hand flowing over her skin, kneading it, intimately curving the shape of her breast in his palm.

  “I never held back because I didn’t want you,” he said roughly. “But be very sure this is what you want, Kay, because-”

  “I love you, Mitch,” she said simply.

  She buried her face in his shoulder, loving the crush of his hair-roughened chest and strong, tense thighs against her. His arousal pressed against her legs, and she felt in some mystical and perfectly irrational way that it belonged to her. His hands roamed over her body, arousing delicious feminine yearnings. She felt small, soft, crushable. The tiniest lick of fear was part of that, a primal emotion, an excitement in anticipation of being possessed by one stronger, larger, infinitely more powerful.