Night of the Cotillion: Georgia (The Americana Series Book 10)

by Janet Dailey

  Reluctantly she started to straighten when Jarod braked the car to a stop in front of her house and turned off the engine, but a softly spoken “no” halted her movement. Long brown fingers cupped the back of her head and bent it back to explore her mouth with his. The gold tips of her lashes were the color of the flame that encircled her heart while it pumped the throbbing fire into her blood. A blind, unending yearning had her quivering in his arms.

  “Saturday is so far away,” he murmured, his mouth moving against the side of her cheek, adding to her already feverish glow.

  “Too far,” she moaned softly. “Do you have to go?"

  His teeth bit into the lobe of her ear, evoking a sensual pain of delight. “I've been asking myself that, but I keep coming up with the same answer. Yes, I do."

  The steering column blocked her efforts to strain closer to the lean hardness of his body. His mouth moved relentlessly over her face, seeking her lips again and again with a violent urgency that left Amanda shaken and totally submissive.

  “I don't want to let you go into that house,” Jarod muttered savagely, tantalizing the curve of her lips with his. “You'd better go while I can still take my hands off you."

  “Not yet,” she pleaded, nuzzling the brown column of his throat when he raised his head from her, but his fingers dug into her shoulders and pulled her away from him.

  “Now, Amanda!” The slender thread holding his control was visible in the tight clenching of his jaw while the harsh light of desire glazed in the dark eyes that possessively swept her face.

  “All right.” But her voice was shaking and uncertain, quivering like her body from the overwhelming passion of his embrace. From somewhere she found the strength to move to her own side of the car, her gaze clinging to his face, noticing his breathing was as uneven as hers. “I'll be waiting for you Saturday—whatever time you come back."

  Jarod's fingers raked through his ebony black hair as he ripped his gaze from her face. “Don't say things like that, Amanda. Not now. Not even if you mean them. Just go. Get out of the car!"

  The stinging lash of his voice whipped out at her. “I didn't mean to make you angry, Jarod."

  “I'm not angry.” But there was a growl of displeasure in his tone as his dark gaze flamed back at her. “At least, not with you. At myself, maybe, because I know in my gut that I can make you say yes. I'm not accustomed to taking cold showers, Amanda,” he concluded dryly.

  Her head tipped forward, the red gold strands of hair that fell forward matching the color in her cheeks. The wild singing of her heart echoed the truth of his words. A few more minutes under the arousing caress of his mouth and hands, and she might have begged for the satisfaction he promised. He was still an unknown quantity. She couldn't begin to understand why Jarod, who admittedly was used to having his way, should allow her to deny him.

  “You will call if you can't be back by Saturday?” Amanda couldn't hide her aching need for his touch as she turned her gaze helplessly toward him.

  His arms spanned the distance between them, drawing her briefly to him while he pressed a fierce kiss on her mouth, then moved a breath away.

  “I told you I would, honey. I don't say what I don't mean,” he said. “Now will you please get out of this car. Don't make me touch you again."

  He reached around her and opened the door, his action forcing her to step out. Amanda paused beside the car, staring almost hungrily at the dark face and the light of desire smoldering in his eyes.

  “Hurry back,” she whispered, and turned quickly away before she lacked the strength.

  Before she reached the door of the house, he was driving away. After the comparative silence of the night, the house was alive with sounds. The muted sound of a radio came from upstairs, overshadowed by the voices coming from the television. Not quite ready to let go of the freshness of those moments of ecstasy in Jarod's arms for the mundane conversation of her family, Amanda slipped into the empty kitchen. As she absently poured a glass of milk, she heard footsteps coming toward the room. She glanced behind her to see her father appear in the doorway.

  “Well, hello.” There was surprise in his greeting. “You're home early again tonight. Anything wrong?"

  “No.” Self-consciously Amanda shook her head in a movement of negation. “Jarod has to leave early in the morning again. He'll be back Saturday."

  “Will you be seeing him again?"

  “Saturday,” Amanda nodded. The gleam of amusement in his eyes induced a wide smile to spread across her face.

  “You're not worried anymore about who he is?” he asked.

  “No.” She took a sip of milk, looking suddenly thoughtful. “Yesterday I said something about not having much in common with him. Do you know what his reply was, dad? He said a man with money isn't better than anyone else, he only lives better."

  “I've always had the impression that his feet were solidly on the ground. I guess I was right,” Her father smiled.

  “I wish my feet were,” Amanda sighed, then realized how revealing that statement was and glanced at her father.

  “Are you falling in love with him?” he asked gently.

  A wry smile lifted the corners of her mouth, “I think I already have,” she admitted.

  “You've heard all the gossip about him and all the women that have been in and out of his life, haven't you?"

  Amanda laughed lightly. “Are you warning me about him after encouraging me to see him, dad?"

  “I suppose I am.” He shrugged and smiled, an arm circling her shoulders. “If he weren't interested in you, I know he wouldn't be seeing you. I don't want you to be hurt, though."

  “I know.” Her lips brushed his cheek fondly. She knew Jarod had the power to hurt her, but she didn't want to look any farther ahead than Saturday. “Tomorrow is another working day, dad. I think I'll call it a night."

  “I imagine I'd be wasting my breath to wish you pleasant dreams,” he chuckled.

  “That's right!” Her brown eyes sparkled happily as she moved lightly from the room. “There aren't any other kind,” she called from the hallway.

  * * * *

  THE BLACK TELEPHONE stared back at her silently. Amanda readjusted the book on her knee and looked away, telling herself again that Jarod would be back on Saturday as he had promised and there would be no need for him to call. But the closer it came to Saturday, the more apprehensive she became that something would happen to detain Jarod in Pennsylvania.

  “We're going out to get a Coke, ‘Manda.” Her brother Brad slapped playfully at her leg, Cheryl Weston standing beside him. “Quit moping around beside the telephone and come with us."

  “Tobe's coming, too,” Cheryl urged, the expression in her eyes asking that Amanda make it a foursome so Cheryl wouldn't have to compete with Tobe for Brad's attention.

  At that moment Tobe walked into the living room. Brad waved him to join them. “Use your influence with Amanda,” her brother ordered.

  “I don't feel like going out tonight,” Amanda declared with a shrug, feeling the need to assert her own wishes before they snowballed her into agreeing.

  Tobe took the book from her unresisting hands and tossed it on the table beside the phone, then joined her on the couch. His arm familiarly encircled her shoulders.

  “Take big brother's advice,” he said with a wink. “You can grow old sitting around waiting for the mighty Jarod Colby—you said yourself he wouldn't call until tomorrow. It's Friday night. Who wants to stay home on a Friday?"

  “I do,” Amanda insisted with a laugh.

  “We're only going to be gone for a couple of hours,” Brad urged.

  “Maybe he'll find out you were with me,” Tobe teased. “It might make him jealous."

  “I am not interested in trying to make him jealous,” she stated, firmly but gently taking the hand that was around her shoulders and raising it over her head so Tobe's arm was back at his side.

  “We'll go somewhere and dance.” Tobe didn't give up. “You like to dance
. It'll be fun. Then maybe Cheryl will quit throwing daggers at me."

  Cheryl darted him another angry glance before looking guiltily at Brad. “I do not,” she defended herself, then added her plea to Tobe's. “Do come, Amanda. We won't be that late coming back."

  “Amanda!” Her mother's voice inserted itself in the group. “You have a visitor."

  All heads turned in unison. Amanda's heart gave a convulsive leap as her eyes encountered Jarod standing in the doorway to the living room, his features grimly taut with a cold glitter in his eyes. Despite the harsh look, she sprang eagerly to her feet, moving to him with unconcealed happiness.

  “I didn't expect you tonight,” she murmured softly, gazing into his face.

  The hardness of his eyes flicked over Tobe before returning to her upturned face. “I finished sooner than I thought I would,” he commented smoothly, that hated aloofness in his expression.

  “Another fifteen minutes,” Tobe spoke up easily, “and we would have spirited Amanda out of the house. It's a good thing you arrived now. She would have killed me if she'd found out you'd come while she was gone, and I'm too young to die."

  “Would it really have bothered you if you had missed seeing me tonight?” Jarod asked in a cynical tone.

  Her mouth opened immediately to assure him that it would, but her brother's voice broke in before she could speak.

  “Is that an understatement! She hasn't set foot out of the house since Tuesday night except to go to work. Nobody's been allowed to be on the telephone longer than five minutes in case you tried to call."

  “Bradley Bennett!” Amanda cried out in embarrassed protest, her gaze sliding self-consciously toward Jarod before it shifted to her parents who had been watching the proceedings with amusement. “Mom, dad, Jarod and I are going out on the porch."

  Jarod stepped to one side. His hand touched her shoulder as she moved past him and stayed there as he followed her down the hall to the front door. Once outside, Amanda walked quickly to the railing.

  “I hope you didn't get the wrong impression in there,” she said nervously, a hand smoothing the hair along her neck. “My brother is always teasing me about my dates."

  “Do you mean you didn't miss me?” Jarod asked.

  Amanda pivoted sharply. “Oh, yes, I did.” At his soft chuckle, she realized he had been teasing her and she colored at the quickness of her affirmation.

  “If you'd said anything else, I would have strangled you!” A humorless smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “In fact, I wanted to when I walked in the room and saw you sitting on the couch with that Peterson boy."

  “He's like another brother to me,” she murmured, her heartbeat quickening.

  “He'd better be.” There was just enough underlying roughness in his voice to let her know he meant it. In the glow of the moonlight she watched him cup a lighter to his cigarette, enjoying the sight of him after three long days of waiting for him to come back. “What does your family think about me?” Jarod asked, slowly exhaling a cloud of smoke.

  “My younger sister is a little awed by you, but my brothers aren't the least impressed,” she answered lightly, unsure why he was asking.

  “And your parents?"

  “They admire and respect you."

  There was a sardonic curl to his mouth as he studied the burning tip of his cigarette. “Even though they know I have designs on their daughter?” he challenged mockingly.

  A fingernail trailed along the edge of the porch railing. “Naturally they realize we're attracted to each other,” Amanda dodged.

  “Do you honestly believe they would condone an affair between two consenting adults if one of them is you?” he jeered.

  “No.” Her voice was tight, the muscles of her throat constricted by pain. This was not the way she had expected him to welcome her. Her forehead drew together in a confused frown.

  “And how do you feel about it?” There was an underlining of harsh demand in his velvet tone.

  “Jarod, please.” Her head moved helplessly to the side. “You're making it hard for me—"

  “Hard for you!” For all the quietness of his outcry, there was violence, too. “I've gone thirty-six hours without sleep, cramming four days’ work into a little less than three. I left my attorney to tie up the loose ends, caught a plane back to Atlanta and drove straight here because I couldn't stand being away from you another minute. And you still don't know the hell I go through every time I touch you. Hard for you!"

  The last came out with a sound of contempt and disgust as Jarod tossed the cigarette into the dark and turned away. He was halfway down the porch steps by the time Amanda had recovered from his savage outburst.

  “Jarod!” Her trembling legs carried her after him. When her fingers touched his arm, he stopped. “I'm sorry. You must believe me,” she implored, her fingers curling into the sleeve of his jacket. There was no room for pride in her heart as the love that enveloped it welled up in her eyes.

  For a full second, the hard glitter remained in his eyes. Then he sighed heavily and the harshness faded from his face.

  “I shouldn't have snapped at you,” he conceded. “I'm tired and—” a wry smile added emphasis “—frustrated. Nothing went the way I planned it tonight. First I find you sitting on the couch with that—"

  Her fingers touched his lips to silence him. “Let's not go over it again,” she whispered.

  “Let's go for a ride in the car,” Jarod suggested softly, catching her hand and holding it.

  “Yes,” she murmured—as if she needed to voice her agreement when she was already moving toward the car.

  Chapter Eight

  THE MOON WAS a silver crescent suspended above the pine trees. A smattering of stars winked in the purpling blue sky. Amanda had no idea where they were going, but she didn't care as her head rested comfortably in the hollow made by his shoulder and arm. For a minute this evening she had been certain Jarod was going to walk out of her life, and she realized what a crippling blow that would be. She couldn't suppress a shudder at the thought.

  “Are you cold?” His head bent toward her as he slowed the car.

  “No. I was remembering how close I came to letting you walk away tonight,” she answered shamelessly.

  He gradually edged the car onto the wide shoulder of the graveled road, stopping it beneath the overhanging branches of some tall pines, their heavy scent drifting into the car.

  “You probably should have.” He made a cynical sound in his throat as he reached out to turn off the motor. “Your instincts about me are correct."

  “What instincts?” she teased, her hand sliding under his jacket across the thin material of his shirt.

  The intimate movement forced a groan from Jarod's throat as his hand closed over her arm to halt the searching caress. A second of hesitation followed before he pushed her roughly against the back of the car seat, half turning to pin her there while the blazing light in his eyes raked her face and neck. But the trusting brown eyes that shone back at him exhibited no fear at his suppressed violence.

  Her mouth throbbed to feel his kiss, her lips parting in anticipation of his touch. His hands held her arms at her side as he ignored the invitation of her lips to bury his face in the fiery locks curling around her neck. Jarod continued to hold her still, plundering the softness of her throat and shoulders and tantalizing her face with rough kisses on her eyes, cheeks, and ears until Amanda was turning and twisting her head to find his wandering mouth.

  The kindled fire he had sparked burst into the searing flames of demanding passion when he finally allowed her lips to find his. The need for his possession of her screamed in every nerve end and she whimpered softly against his bruising lips whose touch instantly changed from frustrated ardor to deliberate, total mastery of the senses. He drew back against his seat, pulling her with him, allowing her hands to touch him in trembling caresses while his own moved intimately over her body.

  Resistance was impossible. It never even crossed her mind
to protest when his fingers undid the top button of her blouse and she felt his fiery touch against her naked skin. She was clay to be molded in his hands, totally submissive to every movement, willing to become whatever he wanted.

  Slowly Jarod arched her backward until she was lying prone on the car seat, the exquisite pressure of his lean body on top holding her there. As his legs slid intimately between hers, a shudder of mindless ecstasy quivered through her.

  His mouth moved across her cheek, the warmth of his breath, uneven like hers, fanning her lashes. “I'll try not to hurt you, darling,” he murmured against her skin.

  The sound of his husky voice opened the last gate and released the torrent of love behind it. Her hands lovingly cupped his face to allow her lips to move over his.

  “I love you, Jarod,” she whispered, aching certainty in the shaking depths of her voice. “Shamelessly, completely, without end. I love you. I love you."

  It took a full minute before Amanda felt the stiffness with which he held himself. Then her caressing fingers and lips felt the tight muscles of his jaw. In the next instant he was pushing himself away from her, unmindful of the hands that tried to hold him. Blank confusion reigned as Jarod opened the car door and stepped outside, his hands on his hips as he breathed deeply of the night air. Hurt and stumbling, she followed him, her fingers tentatively touching his shoulder while she tried to recover her wits.

  “Jarod?” Her voice was questioning and puzzled.

  The arm nearest her left his hip and encircled her waist, drawing her against the comfort of his side. But Amanda could feel the tenseness, the rigidity of his touch that made the hardness of his body unconsoling.

  “What did I do?” She turned her troubled and pain-filled eyes to his face, unable to believe that the desire that had been carved in every line could disappear so quickly or be replaced by such unrelenting coldness.

  “I want you.” The skin of her throat burned where his fingers touched it even as his harsh voice struck coldly at her heart. “I want you, but I'm not going to lie, Amanda. I don't love you."