She moved ever so slowly, arching her back and stretching her legs, the slight tenderness in her muscles testimony to a night to remember. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t become poetic, but somewhere around midnight, she was certain she’d known how heaven sounded, and tasted, and felt.
Tony put his paper down and smiled. “Good morning, beautiful.”
Silently, Beth could admit that she’d been incredible last night, but she drew the line at the slightest possibility that she looked beautiful first thing in the morning with her hair tangled and her face lacking makeup. Since she’d learned how futile arguing with Tony Petrocelli could be, she fluffed her pillows and accepted the mug he handed to her.
They sipped their coffee in companionable silence, although Tony’s hand seemed to be inching closer and closer to her thigh. He stilled at the first squeak from Christopher’s room. They both straightened, but Tony was the first to swing his feet off the bed. “You finish your coffee and leave everything else to me.”
She’d been right about what he hadn’t been wearing. Naked, he moved with an easy grace and a maleness she’d never witnessed before, strolling from the room without a backward glance. The man really didn’t have a self-conscious cell in his body.
He must have bumped the musical mobile on Christopher’s crib, because it jingled for a few seconds. He said something to the baby, who answered with a couple of squawks, which was followed up with a series of thunks that made Beth wonder what in the world was going on in there. Minutes later, Tony was back, a freshly diapered, wide-eyed baby tucked into the crook of one arm.
“You know,” she said, watching as he strolled around to his side of the bed, “for a man who grew up in a family of women, you’re awfully uninhibited.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “It’s a gift.”
She wasn’t surprised he hadn’t said, “If you’ve got it, flaunt it.” Bragging wasn’t Tony Petrocelli’s style.
Their gazes met, their smiles hovering on their lips long after they looked away. Accepting Christopher from his outstretched arms, Beth thought it felt right, it felt good to be sharing with this man.
“By the way,” he said, handing her the bottle he’d warmed ten minutes earlier, “you’re looking at the new head of obstetrics of Vanderbilt Memorial. Noah told me about the board’s decision yesterday.”
Beth looked up from Christopher, who had clamped onto his breakfast with gusto. “Tony, that’s wonderful. Congratulations. You found a godfather for the baby and were promoted to a new position, all in one day. I’d say you had a very busy day yesterday.”
“It was nothing compared to last night.”
She closed her eyes dreamily, breathing in Christopher’s clean scent. Mmm, he smelled sweet, part talcum powder, part natural sweetness, all baby innocence. Glancing from the child in her arms to the man at her side, she smiled.
Tony returned her smile and settled back into bed, reaching for his medical journal with one hand, his coffee with the other, seeming completely and utterly comfortable with himself and their situation. Beth had tried not to plan too far into the future, but it was so easy to imagine the three of them living together, loving together, laughing together for years and years to come. She and Tony would grow closer, and Christopher would slowly grow into a happy, bright, energetic child.
Smiling down at the baby, everything felt right with the world.
* * *
“Beth? Have you seen my flowered tie?”
Bethany felt her forehead furrow slightly. His flowered tie?
“You’d better go up there,” her sister said, reaching for Christopher. “Evidently it’s ties with Tony. MacKenzie could never seem to find his favorite cuff links.”
Beth nodded before setting off in the direction of the stairs, but her brow was still furrowed when she paused in the doorway of their bedroom. Crossing her arms, she said, “I didn’t know you had a flowered tie.”
Tony stopped fumbling around in the closet and turned to face her. “I don’t.”
Beth closed her mouth, only to open it again in order to draw a breath into lungs that were suddenly in dire need of oxygen. Tony was looking at her, a vaguely sensuous light in his eyes, a smile of pure masculine intent on his mouth. Just as he had two weeks ago, he’d watched Christopher while she’d worked last night and had risen early to attend a meeting with the head of obstetrics at the hospital in Vail this morning. He’d arrived home fifteen minutes ago, saying he’d only stopped in long enough to change his clothes before making afternoon rounds at Vanderbilt Memorial. The man had every reason to be exhausted, yet he didn’t appear to be suffering from lack of sleep.
“You don’t have a flowered tie,” she repeated.
He shook his head, his eyes taking on a sleepy glint that didn’t necessarily mean he was tired. “It was just a ploy to lure you into our bedroom.”
“Then, you admit that your motives were less than honorable,” she whispered, doing everything in her power not to smile.
He nodded, slowly moving closer. He might have admitted to earthy intentions, but there was no remorse in his expression. His lips were parted slightly, his features as striking and strong as ever, but it was his eyes that held her spellbound. There was warmth in those dark brown eyes, and a lazy, seductive gleam that sent an answering heat all the way through her.
Tony wondered if Beth was aware of the smile that stole across her face. He wondered if she was aware of what that smile of hers was doing to him. He noticed a movement at the corner of her lips and saw the light in her eyes. Oh, she knew what she was doing, all right. And she was enjoying it very, very much. But then, so was he.
He breathed through his mouth and bent one knee in an attempt to ease the fit of his pants. It didn’t really help, but he hadn’t really expected it to. He didn’t mind the desire coursing through him, unspent though it might be, because he knew it was only a matter of time before he had Beth in bed all over again.
This was fun. Hell, it was damned invigorating, this new twist on their old pause, ponder and parley tactics. It had been this way since the night Beth had come home from the hospital two weeks ago. These past few weeks had been like a slow dance of advances and kisses, of warm, secret smiles that led to long, dreamy sessions of making love. Tony had considered himself experienced, yet he’d never experienced anything like it. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t seem to get enough.
Beth watched Tony’s advance, almost certain her eyes had a mind of their own, drifting partway closed, only to flutter open again. “My sister’s right downstairs,” she whispered.
“That’s too bad.” He angled his head toward hers and began the slow descent to her mouth.
Her eyelashes fluttered down again in anticipation of his kiss, only to open when his mouth hovered an inch away from hers. Knowing full well what he was doing, she rose up on tiptoe and took the kiss she wanted.
His hands came around her all at once, hers gliding beneath his open shirt, up his chest where his heart was beating a heavy rhythm. He pulled her hard against him, letting her know without words exactly what she was doing to him.
The kiss broke on a stifled moan from both of them. Pressing a smile along the base of his neck, she whispered, “I’m afraid you’re too much man for me, Tony Petrocelli. Half the time I don’t know what to do with you.”
He took a small step backward, lowering his chin slightly and settling his hands on his hips in that smooth, masculine way he had. He smiled, his eyes growing darker, leaving little doubt what he was thinking. “I have to say I’m partial to the way you’re figuring it all out, because whether you know it or not, what you give back is pretty damn powerful. If your sister wasn’t downstairs, I’d show you what I mean, and then you could show me that I’m right.”
“That’s what I like about you,” she said, tongue in cheek. “You’re always so willing to let me show you things.”
His advance had little forewarning, the descent of his mouth on hers swift, his ki
ss possessive and sure. She let her head fall back, her lips open, her arms twining around his neck. She let him kiss her, and hold her, and work her blood into a slow simmer. And when he made a sound deep in his throat, letting her know how much it was costing him to break the kiss, she let him go, although it was far from easy.
“If you don’t stop looking at me like that,” he said, reaching up to button his shirt, “I’m not going to be held accountable for my actions. I just think you should know that, what with your sister being right downstairs and all.”
“What’s the matter?” she asked from the doorway. “Don’t you think Janet could take it?”
“I’d rather take you.”
“Later,” she said softly. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that gracious offer then.”
“Believe me, Beth,” he said, working his way down the buttons on his shirt. “There’s no maybe about it.”
* * *
Beth took a calming breath at the bottom of the stairs. By the time she reached the kitchen, she’d smoothed her hair off her forehead and had removed the telltale smile from her face.
Tony popped into the room a few minutes later, only staying long enough to say goodbye and give Beth a long, searing look and a promising sort of kiss. When Beth finally pulled her gaze from the back door, she found Janet watching her, an unreadable expression on her face.
Looking strangely uncertain, Janet visibly pulled herself together and returned to the task of preparing a sandwich for her youngest child. Twisting the lid on the mayonnaise, she said, “Chaz would like to know if you’d mind if he eats his sandwich outdoors. I think he’s a little bored with us and the baby.”
Glancing from Christopher, who was watching from his infant seat on the counter, to her six-year-old nephew, whose eyes were trained on the toe of his shoe, Beth said, “Of course I don’t mind, Chaz. There’s a neat old bench next to the driveway that would be a perfect place for an autumn picnic.”
Chaz accepted his diagonally sliced sandwiches and headed for the door. “Don’t go near the street,” his mother called.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Beth reached into the refrigerator for the chilled plates of chicken and pineapple salad she’d prepared earlier. Following her to the table with two glasses of ice water containing wedges of lemon, Janet asked, “Did you find Tony’s flowered tie?”
Beth shook her head and placed the first plate on the table in her sunny new kitchen.
“He doesn’t have a flowered tie, does he?”
The second plate slipped out of Beth’s hand, clanking to the table a few inches below. Staring at her sister in amazement, she asked, “How did you know?”
“Because MacKenzie never wore shirts that required cuff links, either. And you have the dreamy look of a woman who’s recently been thoroughly kissed.”
Sensing an underlying note of sadness in Janet’s statement, Bethany gazed across the room at her only sister. Janet’s appearance was as impeccable as always, her blouse feminine and soft, the scarf at her neck picking up the auburn streaks in her hair and the warm tone of her skin. Her diamond ring was large, her hands perfectly manicured. Although Janet’s features were carefully schooled, Beth was certain she saw tension in her fingers and sadness in her hazel eyes.
This was the second time Beth had seen Janet these past two weeks. The first time she’d brought all three of her children over to see Christopher. Today, she’d suggested meeting Beth for lunch. Since Bethany wasn’t comfortable leaving Christopher, she’d invited her sister here. They’d never fought, had rarely argued, even as children, but they’d never been close enough to trade secrets, either. As a result, Beth didn’t know how to broach a personal subject now.
Obviously, Janet didn’t, either, because she began to talk about her fourteen-year-old son, Mark, her twelve-year-old daughter, Danielle, and six-year-old Charles, or Chaz, as everyone called him. After relaying her children’s progress in school, violin lessons and ballet class, she said, “Mother called me a few days ago. She seemed quite taken with Tony.”
Lowering her voice to a careful, neutral tone, Beth said, “I’m a bit surprised. Money and social status have never mattered to me, but they matter to Mother. Although Tony’s a very respected doctor, he comes from a large, working-class family. I didn’t expect Mother to like him.”
“You know Mother,” Janet said matter-of-factly. “She’s a very gracious snob.”
Beth knew her mouth was gaping, but she couldn’t help it. Staring at the glint of mischief in her sister’s eyes, she burst out laughing. When Janet smiled, too, something went warm in Beth’s throat, and she realized that they were sharing a rare moment of camaraderie.
Janet checked on her younger son, who was sitting on the bench out front, and Beth carried Christopher’s infant seat to the table. Taking her chair, she found Janet looking at her.
“Janet, is something wrong?”
Janet lowered her gaze to her plate. Tracing a pattern on her linen napkin, she said, “I’m thinking about asking MacKenzie for a divorce.”
Beth’s hand flew to her throat. Of all the things she’d thought Janet might have said, she hadn’t expected this. “No wonder MacKenzie looked so tense and tired when I saw him in his office a few weeks ago.”
“MacKenzie doesn’t know,” Janet said, slowly meeting Beth’s gaze.
“Has something happened?” Beth asked.
“Do you mean an extramarital affair or abuse? No, nothing like that.”
“Then, what is it, Janet? I always thought you and Mac had the perfect marriage. I envied you for that.”
The surprise on Janet’s face was too stark to be anything but real. “I’ve always envied you.”
“Me?” Beth’s croak startled Christopher. Being careful to keep her voice low, she said, “But you’ve always been the perfect sister. You walk the right way, talk the right way. You’ve always been the perfect hostess, the perfect wife, the perfect mother, while I’ve struggled to get any of those things right. Why would you possibly envy me?”
Janet’s hand shook as she raised her water to her lips. Returning the glass to the table, she said, “Because you’ve never allowed Mother and Father to dictate your life, while I always followed the exact course they set for me, attending the university of their choice, marrying the kind of man they wanted me to marry. The only thing I’ve ever done to deviate from the plan was to have a third child. Chaz is my one claim to independent thinking.”
“Are you sorry?” Beth whispered, trying to understand this depth in the sister she barely knew.
“That I married Mac and had three beautiful children with him? No, I’m not sorry. But I’m sad that he doesn’t look at me the way Tony looks at you. I’m sad that he doesn’t look into my eyes when he talks to me anymore. Half the time I don’t think he knows I’m alive. And I haven’t been number one in his life in a long, long time.”
“Then, restake your claim.” Beth felt nearly as surprised as Janet looked. Who was she to give marital advice? After all, she’d gone through a painful divorce little more than a year ago. And her marriage to Tony wasn’t exactly conventional.
“What do you mean?” Janet asked.
“I’m not sure,” Beth answered truthfully. “I think too many people give up too easily these days. If you’re still committed to the marriage, and neither of you has done anything unforgivable, it seems to me there must be something worth fighting for.”
“Then, you think I should fight for my rightful place in Mac’s life?”
“I think you should fight for your rightful place in your life,” Beth answered. “Shake Mac up. Make him see you, really and truly see you.”
“How do I do that?”
“You have to find the answer to that, but tell me something, Janet. How did Mac react to your wish to have a third child?”
For the first time all day, Janet’s smile looked smug. “He was very—shall I say—excited about the prospect.”
So, Beth thought to he
rself, her demure sister had a wild side, too, a side that Mac had liked. She wondered how long it had been since Janet had been completely spontaneous with her husband. “Perhaps that’s where you should start.”
“Do you think I should try to open his eyes by suggesting a fourth child?” Janet asked incredulously.
“I was thinking more along the lines of opening his eyes with great sex.”
Janet blushed. In a voice barely above a whisper, she said, “MacKenzie is working so hard to become a full partner in the firm he spends most of his time at the office. It’s been a long time since he’s called me upstairs to help him find his favorite cuff links, if you know what I mean.”
Touching a drop of condensation on the outside of her glass, Beth nodded. “Nobody ever said you had to limit your search for those cuff links to your bedroom. If Mac has been spending most of his time at the office, you might have to search there.”
Janet’s gasp reminded Beth of their mother’s, but there was nothing motherly about the glint in her eyes. “Are you suggesting I…we…at the office?”
Beth shrugged, and Janet picked up her fork, moving a piece of lettuce around on her plate. “I once saw a segment on a daytime talk show about women who strolled into their husbands’ offices wearing a fur coat and nothing else.”
“There you go.”
Spearing a piece of grilled chicken, Janet said, “It’s much too warm for a fur coat.”
“A trench coat would work just as well.”
“I don’t own a trench coat.”
Reaching for her own fork, Beth said, “Then, it looks as if you have a little shopping to do.”
They shared a long look, then burst out laughing. For what was quite possibly the first time in their lives, they continued to talk over a companionable, sisterly lunch. Janet seemed more relaxed, and Beth was very nearly brimming with happiness and joy. She still felt the glow of Tony’s passion, Christopher’s adoption was progressing right on schedule, and she and her sister were working their way toward a closer relationship. With just a little more time, she would have everything she wanted, everything she needed, everything that made her whole.
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