Action. Yes. Fresh air and exercise. Ordinarily, Jilly wasn’t all that big on physical fitness, but today, well, she had an excess of energy and clearing the driveway seemed as good a way as any to work some of it off. “You have two shovels?”
“There’s no need for you to—”
“I want to. And I’ve certainly got the time. It’s not going to take me all day to bake you a cake.”
So they piled on their outerwear and got the shovels from the shed and spent the morning shoveling—well, to be strictly truthful, Will spent the morning shoveling. Jilly shoveled, too, but she took a break now and then—a bathroom break, a cup-of-cappuccino break, a stand-in-front-of-the-heater-until-the-shivering-stops break.
Even with breaks, it was hard work. And Jilly thought she saw that animal again—it was a flash of brown and white, sliding through the trees at the edge of the clearing. She stopped shoveling to watch for another sight of it, and Will teased her that she was daydreaming on the job. She shrugged and went back to work.
When they put the shovels away at noon, she was sore and sweating beneath her heavy coat. And for all the work they’d done, there was still a lot of driveway buried in three feet of snow.
“Every little bit helps,” Will said. “Tomorrow, we’ll get farther. And maybe the plow will show up.”
Jilly’s shoulders and arms were aching. “Tomorrow, I may not be able to move. What I want right now is a long, hot bath.”
“The bathroom is at your disposal.”
When they got inside, she made him go first. She knew he’d be quick and then she could relax in there, take her time, lolling and lingering. There were few things Jilly enjoyed quite so much as a long soak in a scented tub. And today, after doing all that shoveling, she really needed it.
But somehow, once she took off her clothes and climbed into the lovely fragrant water, she couldn’t relax, couldn’t tune out the fact that Will was on the other side of the bathroom door and as soon as she got done in there, she could be with him.
“That was fast.” Will pulled the platter of sliced turkey from the fridge. “Want a sandwich?”
“I would love one.”
He sent her what he clearly intended as a quick, affectionate glance. But then he must have seen it, right there in her eyes—what she really wanted, and how powerfully she wanted it. He turned to her fully and held out his hand.
She needed no further urging. She ran to him.
Chapter Twelve
Will gathered her into his arms.
Was there ever a woman who smelled this good? He buried his face in her fragrant hair and breathed deep. She nuzzled his shoulder. He kissed the crown of her head, loving the feel of the silky strands against his lips.
“You want this, right?” He cradled her face in both hands and made her look at him. “You’ve made up your mind. Is that the message I’m getting here?”
She pressed those sweet lips together and nodded.
He couldn’t help smiling at her expression. “Scared?”
She stuck out that obstinate chin. “Are you kidding? Me?” Then she sighed. “Well, all right. Maybe a little.” She held up her thumb and forefinger, with a quarter inch of space between them. “This much. No more.”
“If you want to back out—”
“Uh-uh. I’m up for this.”
“You’re sure?”
She giggled up at him. “Are you trying to talk me out of it, now?”
“No way.”
It was probably foolish and they’d both live to regret it, but hell. She was willing. And he ached to have her. And maybe, in the end, there were just some things even a man who wasn’t in the market for a woman couldn’t turn down.
But there was a problem. One that had only occurred to him when he saw she’d decided to carry this thing between them to its natural conclusion.
He’d brought no contraceptives. He never did, not to his grandmother’s house. He always came up here on his own and no one ever dropped in for a visit. Opportunities for sexual encounters were nil. Or they had been.
Until Jilly.
And that had been fine with him—until Jilly.
He touched the bump on her forehead. “This is looking pretty good.”
“You have an inordinate interest in the bump on my head.”
“I’m just glad, every time I look at it, that it isn’t any worse.”
“It looks like hell, and you know it. But the good news is, I think I’ll still be able to lead a full and productive life.”
“It would appear so.”
“And you’re stalling.”
“Maybe.”
She kissed his chin. “Why?”
“Because right now, under any other circumstances, I’d be begging you to hold it right there while I ran down to the corner drug store.”
The light dawned in those gray-blue eyes. “Better safe than sorry, you mean?”
“That’s right.” Now he couldn’t read her expression. “What, exactly, are you thinking?”
“Well, it’s like this,” she said, and then wrinkled her nose at him in lieu of finishing her sentence.
“Jilly. Spill it.”
“Okay, okay. I’ve got them.”
He blinked. “Condoms? You’ve got—”
“Yes.” She tipped her head back and let out a groan. “Oh, I just know what you’re thinking. That I came up here to hook up with you, after all, that your original suspicions about me were true.”
“That’s not what I’m thinking.”
“Right.”
“Jillian. I swear to you I’m thinking nothing of the kind. And anyway, at this point, I don’t give a damn why you came up here. In fact, if you had come up here because you just couldn’t wait any longer to make mad, passionate love with me, you wouldn’t hear me complaining. The only thing you’d hear from me would be, ‘Hey, let me help you with that.”’
She turned her head to the side and slid him a look. “Really? You’re past caring why I came up here?”
“Past it? It’s so far behind me, I don’t even remember anymore that I ever did care.”
“And you’re not thinking that I planned to seduce you?”
He cupped her face again, and lowered his mouth to brush a kiss against those sweet, sweet lips. “No, I’m not. But please. Don’t let that stop you from going ahead and seducing me anyway.”
She smiled against his mouth—and then pulled back enough to announce, “It’s a matter of principle.”
“I understand completely.”
“Oh, you do not.”
“Yes, I do.” She started to argue further. He put a finger against her lips. “Wait. Listen.” He tried to remember, to get the wording exact. “‘Our bodies—and our health and well-being—are our own responsibility. Too many women aren’t prepared when the moment comes. Or they tell themselves they plan to say no—and then find themselves changing their minds, saying yes. The point? Say no. Say yes. As a grown-up self-sufficient woman, it’s your choice. But no matter what you plan to say, be ready to be safe.”’
Her cheeks were adorably flushed. “Will Bravo. You’ve been reading my column.”
“I remembered that one in particular. I thought it was right on the money.”
“But you…I mean, you, I…”
He grinned down at her. “Jillian Diamond at a loss for words. This has to be a first.”
She made a face at him. “Treasure the moment.”
“I am—and I’ll admit, you were never supposed to know. No one was ever supposed to know. It was my guilty secret that ‘Ask Jillian’ had become every bit as much a part of my morning routine as Froot Loops and Belgian Crème cappuccino. That’s why I made such an effort the other night, asking you those questions about what you put in your column.”
“You were hoping I’d never guess that you already knew?”
“You got it.”
“You don’t seem especially guilty about it now.”
“All that’s behind
me. Somewhere between when you blew in the door Sunday and that kiss last night, I’ve given up trying to resist you.”
She sighed. He felt her soft, small breasts rise and fall against his chest. Her eyes were gleaming. She slid her hands up over his shoulders and her fingers brushed the back of his neck, threading up into his hair. “You’re surrendering totally?”
“Yeah. I’m gone. There’s no turning back. I think it’s only fair that you kiss me now.”
She obliged, lifting that incredible mouth and parting her lips beneath his.
He loved the way she tasted. It was every bit as good as how she smelled. He slipped his tongue inside, swept it around in that wonderful wet, slick heat. He could kiss her forever. That would be fine with him. They could stand there, in the kitchen, with the warm steam from her bath all around them, kissing until the rest of the day went by and the night came, and then just kissing some more.
It would be better, though, if they were both naked. And then, eventually, he was going to have to do something about how powerfully he wanted her—so much that it hurt.
But in a good way.
She’d come out of the bathroom in a red fleecy sweater that ended just above her waist. She also wore tight jeans that rode her hips and flared at the ankles. And red socks. Big, heavy, bright-red socks.
The sweater made things easy. No problem at all to slip his hands under there, to touch her bare skin, which was warm and so incredibly smooth. She shivered—and then she sighed.
They went on kissing. Her mouth invited him. Her slim, soft body pressed close.
He caressed the silky skin at the small of her back, followed the bumps of her spine upward. He already knew that she wore no bra. No red-blooded male could miss that, pressed as close as she was. Still, it was a delight to discover the fact all over again with his hands.
The sweater was in his way. He took the bottom of it and gave an upward tug. She helped him, lifting her arms. They had to break the kiss when the sweater got to their lips. But not for long. He pulled it over her head and tossed it behind him and pressed his mouth to her mouth again, gathering her close, feeling her tremble a little, smiling to himself.
In their time here together, he’d come to understand her—maybe better than she really wanted him to. Jilly had it all figured out—except when it came to herself. She was very tender at heart. Woundable.
He cupped her face again, made her look at him. “I won’t hurt you, Jilly.” He said the words and then he wondered why he’d said them. If he really meant to be certain of not hurting her, he shouldn’t be doing what he was doing now.
Sex in the new millennium might not carry all the freight it once had. But there was still plenty of baggage around it. You got naked with someone and it could end up opening doors, setting off charges neither of you had expected. It could blow up in your face, and anybody who said they could guarantee otherwise was either a liar or a fool.
Jilly swallowed and nodded, her eyes wide. Wounded already. And sweetly dazed with desire. And right now, well, he was throwing good sense out the window and not caring in the least.
He wanted her. A lot. And her smooth, slim body was his for the taking.
He kissed her some more, daring to cup her small breasts, to play with the nipples, feel them pebble and harden. He pulled free of her mouth, only to kiss that wonderful chin of hers, to scrape his teeth on the stubborn tip of it, to slide his tongue along the satin skin of her throat.
There, he paused. He pressed his lips to the side of her neck, down low, just above the rise of her collarbone. He opened his mouth enough to draw on the thin, tender skin of her throat, sucking it against his teeth, raking it with his tongue. He would a leave a mark, and he knew it. He didn’t care.
And neither did she, it seemed. She arched her throat to him eagerly. He eased the hard, drawing kiss, made it brushing, tender…
She said his name, on a whimper. He liked that, the sound of his name from her mouth while he kissed the bruise he’d brought up on her throat.
He kissed his way downward, capturing one pretty, hard little nipple and sucking it into his mouth. She moaned and he sucked harder, slipping a hand down, finding the buttons at the front of her jeans and releasing them, one by one.
He slid his hand in there, under the elastic of her silky little panties. Yes. Wet. Creamy. So good….
It had been such a long time since he’d felt that. The silky curls, the soft mound, the wet readiness, growing wetter at his touch.
He cupped her, and then dared to slide a finger into that waiting wetness, to rub the tiny, swollen nub while he continued to kiss her breast, to lick circles around the nipple, to close his mouth over it, to draw long and deep…
She was moving now, pushing herself against his hand, making sweet, hungry noises low in her throat, clutching his head to her breast. That gold-streaked brown hair dragged, feather-soft, against his cheek.
She whimpered his name again. And then again and again. Her movements grew more frantic. She held him closer, urging him to drink from her, while at the same time, below, she moved, riding his stroking hand.
And then it happened. She stiffened and cried out. He felt her release, the tender pulsing against his fingers, the spill of wetness, the hard shudder that ran through her and then the low, purring moan. She curved herself around him, sighing, her hair falling in a veil over his face.
He took his mouth from her breast and, very carefully, drew a long, steadying breath.
He was right at the edge, and it was taking all he had to keep from going over. The scent of her, the silky wetness against his hand, the way she had shuddered as she came, all that had swept him dangerously close to the breaking point.
“Oh,” she said. “Oh, Will…” And she slid one soft hand down and laid it over his hardness, cupping him so lovingly.
It was too much. He lost it. He ground his teeth and held on tight as a shattering climax ripped through him.
Chapter Thirteen
After a minute or two, Will chuckled softly. Then he groaned. “You’d never guess, would you, that it’s been a while for me?”
Jilly wanted to kiss him all over. She settled for lifting his face, cradling it tenderly and kissing his lips—a long, deep, wet, very thorough kiss.
When she finally pulled her mouth from his, she whispered, “We never even made it to a prone position. But I have to tell you, I feel just great.”
“Yet,” he said low. “We haven’t made it to a prone position yet.”
She really did like the way he said yet. “Ah. I stand corrected.”
“You certainly do. And I think I need a towel.”
A few minutes later, they went upstairs to the bed they’d slept in beneath their separate afghans just two nights before. Jilly got the condoms from her suitcase and set them on the table by the lamp. Then she took off the rest of her clothes. Will took his clothes off, too, and put them on the straight chair in the corner of the room.
She gulped when he came toward her, so fine and strong, with those wonderful broad shoulders and powerful arms—and ready for her all over again.
When he reached her, he wrapped his arms around her, but not tightly, just resting them, clasped, at the small of her back. Below, she could feel him, nudging her belly, causing that giddy lightness in her chest, that wonderful weakening at the knees—and that delicious melting sensation within.
He kissed the tip of her nose. “Who would have thought it—the two of us, together like this?”
She felt a smile break across her face. “Well, Caitlin, of course.”
The corners of his mouth turned down in a frown—but a playful one. “You would have to remind me.”
“You know what I think she needs?”
“Hit me with it.”
“A new boyfriend.”
He considered, then nodded. “It’s a thought. She obviously needs more leisure-time activities. But on the other hand, I have to say…” He brushed a finger up and down her spin
e, leaving lovely goose bumps in his wake.
Jilly sighed and almost forgot what they were talking about. But then she saw the teasing gleam in his eyes. She asked, “You have to say what?”
“Well, if it hadn’t been for Caitlin, you wouldn’t be here now.”
“Too true.” She could top that. “And neither would you—in the most basic sense.”
“You have a point. It’s one I should probably try to keep in mind whenever I get that urge to do her serious bodily harm. She was, after all, the one who carried me around for nine months, the one who gave birth to me and then fed me and clothed me until I was old enough to do it for myself.”
“And loved you. You know she did—she does—in her own unusual way.”
“Yeah.” His voice was rough—and tender, too. “You’re right. I know she does.”
Jilly looked up at him, thinking that she’d never felt quite this way before—and then thinking, Omigod, what am I thinking?
She did have to watch herself. She could end up in big trouble.
I’ve never felt this way before was the kind of thing a woman tended to think before she started telling herself she’d found her one and only—otherwise known as a love for all time.
And a love for all time?
Well, that was what Jilly had told herself she’d found when Benny came along.
And let us never forget where it ended with Benny: divorce court—and having to give a perfectly good bed to the Salvation Army.
Therefore.
If perhaps it was true that she’d never felt this way before, she was not moving on to believing that this just might be a love for all time.
It wasn’t. It was a love for this moment. This magical, wonderful, tender, sweet moment. And for this moment, she was going to enjoy herself. Thoroughly.
She whispered, “Happy birthday, Will.”
And he nodded, dark lashes low and lazy over those matchless blue eyes. “It is. One of the best. Maybe the best.”
Scrooge and the Single Girl Page 13
