When they finally lay still, arms and legs and sheets all tangled together while they caught their breath and let their heartbeats slow, he chuckled low and deep near her ear.
“Remind me never to take you to a motel.”
“Yeah, like that’d ever happen.”
“You wouldn’t go to a motel with me?”
“Shoot, I’m not letting you out of this bed until you’re too old to do it again.”
He sighed and laughed and rolled to the side, taking her with him, pillowing her head on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”
She prayed that she wouldn’t be either, that she’d make her deadline.
15
What an incredible night. Jake meant what he’d said when he told Lilly he wasn’t going anywhere. He’d promised her breakfast in bed, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be burned, so he kept a close eye on the bacon grilling in the Foreman and thick slices of French toast browning in a large skillet.
Man, could that woman make love.
Now normally, being a guy, he wouldn’t use that term in relation to sharing a bed with a woman he’d spoken to less than twenty-one days out of his entire life. It would’ve been something more basic like screw or fuck. But it hadn’t been basic screwing to him—love did that—and he was pretty sure it hadn’t been to Lilly, either.
She seemed to have a one-track mind recently, bent on getting him in the sack for what he’d thought would be a simple quickie—for her. Being with her could never be simple for him. Once there, though, he sensed something totally different on her part, a real connection.
Not only had she been making love last night, but mad, passionate love. Missionary, on top, doggy style, positions that probably didn’t have names and variations on the ones that did. She’d been a woman possessed, insatiable—in a good way—and determined.
She’d been shy about making noise until he whispered how much it turned him on, which it did, then forget volume control. She hadn’t been shy about demanding what she needed—hell, what guy wouldn’t love that?
Her actions as much as told him he didn’t need condoms, so she was obviously in charge of birth control, which was a good thing, because he had a lot of lean years ahead, getting his business started up again. Given time, he’d pull in enough money to support her.
Well, except for her charity habit. He didn’t mind her giving her money away—it was hers—but he had plans for his, so there’d be no joint bank account.
She strolled into the kitchen then, wearing his favorites— a red thong and garter belt, a lacy bra cut so low it was probably illegal in forty states, a pair of stockings, and oh yeah, those strappy high heels.
“You have a thing for red, don’t you?”
She shot him a saucy grin. “I have a thing for you.”
“Really? I’m glad you told me, because, you know, I wasn’t sure last night. All that moaning, it could mean anything.”
He turned the toast, his hands itching to get back on her breasts again. He’d promised her breakfast, though. But then she swooped up behind him, lifted his unbuttoned shirt, and rubbed her barely covered breasts against his back.
“We’d better do it again, then,” she said. “You let me know which part you don’t understand, and I’ll explain it. In detail.”
To hell with food. With his body leaping to attention, he slammed off the burner and unsnapped his jeans. If she expected him to keep up this pace—not that that was a complaint, because it wasn’t—eventually they’d have to raid his trunk. He had a nice selection of new toys they could try out together.
“What’s that?”
He followed her curious gaze to the multimeter he’d left on the table. It was small, not much larger than a pack of cigarettes, and he’d brought it upstairs to test her charm bracelet, but later. Much later.
“That, sweetheart, is how I’m going to prove there’s nothing heavenly about your bracelet.”
“So you say.”
“So I do.”
Abruptly, she pulled a chair out from the table and sat down.
“Now?” he asked with disbelief, and she said, “So there’s nothing between us.”
On his way to another chair, he trailed his fingers along her bra strap, over her shoulder, and down to the lacy cup. “Nothing sounds great.”
“Later, I promise. Now, what do I do?”
He patted the table. “Rest your arm here, sweet cheeks.”
“Keep up that sexy talk, and more’ll be cooking in this kitchen than breakfast.”
“Countertop sounds interesting. Hold still.” He hooked leads to clips, and clips to her bracelet. His fingers were bumbling and uncooperative with a greater desire to be unhooking something else.
“Hey, I’m not the one dropping parts.”
“Watch here.” He tapped the readout. “If there’s any actual—as opposed to static, mind you—if any actual electricity runs through the bracelet, you’ll see the needle move. See? Deader’n a doornail.”
She snickered. “You call this scientific?”
“You have a better idea?”
“Yeah, watch the meter. Go on, I don’t want you to miss this. Now ask me to write you a check for three million dollars.”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter—”
“Ask me.”
“Lilly, I’m trying to tell you—”
“Afraid I’m right?”
He sighed. It’d be simpler to give in and get this over with so he could get it on with her again. “Okay, write me a check for three million dollars.”
“Demand it.”
He said it again, the roughness in his tone belied by trying very hard not to laugh at himself.
“Okay.” She sounded surprised when nothing registered. “Since I’m all connected here, you go get my checkbook and a pen. There! Oh, you weren’t looking.”
He’d seen the spike out of the corner of his eye, but it had to be a fluke, so he didn’t admit it. “Where’s your purse?”
“Oh. Hm.” She glanced around the room. “Must still be in the car.”
“Don’t move.”
Not that he thought she would. He was pretty sure she was as eager as he to get this behind them. Then they could get on the counter or go upstairs or do it anywhere she wanted. He ran for the car, nearly tripping over the cat as it made a beeline for the kitchen.
Upon Jake’s return, Lilly flipped open the checkbook and dated the top check.
“Watch that meter. If I get all the way through this, you’re going to win a whole lot more than a measly bet.”
“Lilly,” he said softly. “I don’t want your money. It doesn’t matter. Even if you’d asked Brady to change the policy—”
“Which I didn’t.”
“—you’re not the kind of woman who’d take—”
“Damn straight. But I feel I owe you some—”
Lilly’d barely begun writing his name when the meter spiked to the top, and the charge catapulted her right out of her chair. She would’ve sprawled on the floor if he hadn’t reached out and grabbed her, albeit awkwardly.
No way!
Jake began analyzing, hypothesizing why it had happened and why the needle still vacillated about midway. But it was hard to concentrate with Lilly straddling one thigh in next to nothing, begging him to tear up the check, and the cat clawing him above the knee in a frantic attempt to join her.
He sent Mooch flying, then tapped the multimeter, turning it this way and that, examining it. “But—”
“Now.”
“Oh.” He ripped the check in half, not because he believed in any angel crap, but because he hated the strain and irritation in Lilly’s voice, and he’d do anything to stop her from being hurt—even though this couldn’t possibly be the cause. No way.
Still, meters didn’t lie.
She sagged in relief against his chest, her head tucked up against his neck in a pose of complete trust. With each shred of the check, he discarded one
theory after another.
Mooch took a retaliatory bite out of his ankle and glared up at him. Relishing the feel of Lilly’s soft hair against his cheek, Jake muttered, “Wasn’t me who hurt her.”
Though he was at a loss to say exactly whose fault it was.
With Lilly’s heat straddling his leg and her breasts spilling out of the low-cut lace right in front of him, right below his mouth, his concentration was irrevocably broken. He groaned as he said, “Oh, this is so not fair.”
“Not convinced?” Her lips brushed softly against his neck.
“Only that something other than static’s going on, but I need time to figure out what.”
“And you want to do that now.” She wiggled on his thigh.
At the moment, rational breakthroughs were impossible. Shoving the equipment aside, Jake surged to his feet and sat Lilly on the table, missing her grip on his thigh already. “Obviously I didn’t do my job last night.”
She chuckled deliriously as he towered over her. “You mean it gets better?”
“I don’t know about better. But I remember you begging me to fuck your brains out, and it appears to me that you’re still thinking.”
“I didn’t!” Her lustful laugh was laced with invitation.
“Oh yes.” He bent her backward until she was spread on the table before him, the narrowness of her thong barely concealing her from him. “You most certainly did.”
“Well then, big guy.” She dipped her thumbs into the top band and V’d it downward, out of his way, revealing the nest of curls he hadn’t seen in oh, twenty minutes or so. “Better get to it.”
An hour later, Jake poked at the French toast in the cold skillet, wondering if it was salvageable. He turned the burner back on to give breakfast another try.
Lilly was still upstairs, singing bawdy love songs in the shower, and he was tempted to turn the stove off and go see what else she came up with, but the phone rang.
Andrew opened with a smooth, “Congratulations on taking round two.”
“Go to hell.”
“Don’t you want to know what round one was?”
“Go fuck yourself, Marquette.”
Andrew laughed. “Oops, can’t say over the phone. You probably have three million ways of bugging it. Father warned Brady not to put money into your little side business. It wasn’t right.”
Brady’d understood his family better than Jake thought, whereas he’d just underestimated them.
“Oh,” Andrew continued, “you know that three million dollar life insurance policy Lilly’s buying?”
He didn’t.
“Don’t count on it either.”
Wow was Lilly’s opinion of the passionate night she’d wanted and received. Double wow—she’d gotten a morning of it, too. If she died right now, in this shower, she couldn’t say she hadn’t had the best time of any woman ever.
She felt boneless.
She ached deliciously in all the right places.
She couldn’t stop singing.
When Jake had shared the shower with her earlier, she’d teased him with lusty, improvised lyrics like I could have spread my legs and Get me to the bed on time. When she belted out Murdoch is a girl’s best friend, he grinned mischievously and said he’d heard that vibrators were a girl’s best friend. Then he was off to salvage their breakfast.
And as sure as she was standing under the most delicious spray of pulsating hot water, her night hadn’t been just about sex. Jake was too tender, too playful, too powerful, and far too generous to be just about sex. He didn’t have to say it; she could see it in his eyes, feel it in every touch of his skin against hers, hear it in every word he murmured, every query as to what she liked and how she wanted it.
Now that she’d finally gotten him in bed and knew he’d be back for more, she needed to bone up on increasing her chances of conception. Not only did she want that baby, she wanted Jake, every night and every day, forever.
She enjoyed the shower until she ran out of hot water, thinking mostly of Jake, grateful that he was an adventurous and generous lover. Afterward, she sprinkled in a few plans for her day and the week ahead: giving money away and disposing of more personal assets, like her wedding and engagement rings. Nothing that would interfere with their nights.
“Hungry?” Jake asked when she strolled into his room, wrapped in one navy towel, blotting her hair with another.
He was lounging on the bed, his dark blue robe belted so loosely that it didn’t even cover his smooth chest, and he was halfway through a heap of French toast, smothered in syrup and heavily dusted with powdered sugar.
“It’s not as good as the first or second time I cooked it”—he winked—”but it’s passable.”
“Couldn’t wait for me, huh?”
“Are you kidding? You’re insatiable. Eating while you’re in the shower’s the only chance I get to fortify myself. I have to keep up my energy, you know. Here, sit down, have some.”
She crawled onto the bed and opened her mouth as he aimed a forkful her way.
“Oh my gosh, you think that’s not good?” She caught a dribble of syrup running down her chin and sucked it off her finger. “No wonder you’re such a great lover. Are you a perfectionist at everything?”
“I’m great, huh?”
The light in his eyes danced, and she hoped he wasn’t going to demand a list of his many ways. “Shut up, you know you are. I told you so often enough.”
“Ninety times, at least.”
“Maybe if you count by tens.”
“Here, have another bite. Not to spoil the mood or anything, but Andrew called while you were in the shower.”
She couldn’t talk with her mouth full, so she squeaked something that sounded like What’d he want?
“He says you’re buying life insurance.”
She threw her hands up in the air. “That does it. I need a new agent, too.”
“I’ll take that as a yes. This doesn’t have anything to do with paying me back, does it?”
“Jake, I meant it when I said I’d find a way. And if something happens to me before I do, then that base is covered.” She grabbed his hand, steering more food her way.
“Boy, you really worked up an appetite, didn’t you?”
“Mm-hm.”
He set the plate aside and kissed away her pretty pout. “Listen, before we get sidetracked… After talking to Andrew, I know who—not how or when, but who—changed the beneficiary. If anybody owes me anything, it’s the Marquettes.”
“Can we prove it?”
He snorted. “Frank Marquette has never been caught at anything yet.” He took her hands in his. “While we’re on the topic of money, there’s something I know Brady’d want me to pass on to you, about investing money back into the family business.”
“As if.”
“I know, but I can’t stop thinking about it, just in case. The reason he and I went into business together was because he eventually wanted to distance himself from the rest of his family. I’m sure he wanted to protect you.”
“We both knew they’re manipulative.”
“Now there’s an understatement.” He cocked his head and studied her intently. “He really loved you, you know. And for good reason.” His thumb absently traced circles on the back of her hand, holding the connection between them even as Lilly felt the topic shift. “Can I tell you something?”
“Maybe.” If it was anything like we need to slow down— maybe caring for her was scaring him—she’d better be ovulating, like now.
“I don’t want to scare you…”
Too late.
“I know we met years ago, but we’ve really only known each other a few weeks.”
Just under, by her count. She held her breath, hoping this wasn’t We’re moving too fast or We should take a break. She wanted a baby, yes, but more than that, she wanted the whole package. She wanted Jake, marriage, happily ever after; her limited window of opportunity made her impatient.
“And
I don’t expect you to feel the same way yet,” he said, “but it’s all the time I need. Lilly, I love you.” He caressed her hand between both of his, squeezed it, drew it to his lips. He nuzzled her knuckles, keeping a little space between them while he pinned her with his gaze and finished what he’d begun. “It’s fast, I know—a real whirlwind—but there’s not a single doubt in my heart.”
She couldn’t believe her ears. Oh, she’d felt it last night; she knew he was in love with her. She just didn’t know he knew it.
“That’s great! Jake, I lo—”
He pressed his fingers against her lips, cutting off her reply. “No, don’t. You don’t have to say it just because I did. This is a long-standing tradition in my family, love at first sight. I expected it. Damn, I probably should’ve been more romantic and sprinkled camellia petals on the sheets and lit candles, right?” He grinned crookedly, then. “But as much as you enjoy food, French toast and powdered sugar was probably better.”
She mumbled, “But, Jake,” against his fingertips.
“Wait, there’s more. You should know I’ve loved you since the day we met.”
She tugged his hand away from her mouth. “But I want to— Oh.”
“Yeah. Your wedding day.” He shook his head ruefully. “Don’t think that didn’t make me feel like a heel, falling for my best friend’s bride.”
So many things made sense now; the anger, the running away, the guilt. “That’s why you left town so fast.”
“Yes.”
“And stayed away.” She groaned, not sure he hadn’t delivered the bomb yet. “You’re not going to tell me we can’t do this anymore, are you? I couldn’t stand it if you do.”
“No.” The teasing light she was so used to returned to his eyes. “I held out as long as I could, though. And even if you don’t love me yet, you’ll catch up.”
“You’re not going to believe me, are you? I love you, you think it’s too fast, and therefore you’re not going to believe me.” He, who had so much trouble with beliefs.
“It hasn’t been as long for you.”
“Ah. And you’re a ‘hard data’ kind of guy.”
A Date on Cloud Nine Page 19
