by Mimi Barbour
Meanwhile, the cheeky devil sat next to her in the dark and whistled. While she suffered through such turmoil, he sat relaxed and made a—a racket. Arrgghh!
“Stop that!”
“Stop what?”
“Making those silly noises.”
“You don’t like whistling? It’s usually an indication of happiness.”
“Well, I’m not happy. Please!” She pulled into the drive, shut off the engine, and laid her face over her hands where they still clutched the wheel. “Please.” This time the word was a whisper.
“Aw, sweetheart! I’m sorry. I’ll stop teasing.” His mesmerizing voice oozed regret. “It’s a bad habit I have when I’m nervous.” Darkness shrouded them, creating their own little world. The night breezes wafting through the open window carried scents of jasmine and honeysuckle, while the full moon shot rays of golden magic to enclose them.
Sweetheart! It was the last word he’d said to her ten years earlier, and it broke her. Tears gushed. She flung open the car door and ran for the shelter of her private space. The room where she’d shed a million tears, written a million words about their love, and spent the better part of the last ten years planning for when they’d meet again. Except nothing was happening according to her plans. He didn’t recognize her, and she’d always imagined he would.
He followed her. “Ellie, I don’t know what I’ve done, but if it’s any consolation, honey, I’m sorry.” He moved behind the chair she’d flung herself into, and she felt his big rough hand stroke her cheek.
Her breathing stopped as if a spell had been cast. She sat motionless. And waited. He stood behind her, continuing his gentle treatment as if sensing she needed to be touched.
Very slowly, she twisted her head and kissed his palm. He hesitated, and before he could withdraw she put up her hand, trapping his.
“Ellie, I need to tell you that I have a girl. I’m not free.”
“I’m not a girl, Troy.” She stood and faced him, only inches away. “I’m a woman.” She moved closer, slowly—very slowly—and then she stopped, her breasts against the front of his body.
He wavered.
Only seconds separated their lips. Heat ravaged her and pooled in her lower area, where heavy pulsations screamed for her to do something about them. As a candle’s flame can light another, her desire ignited his.
Her eyes begged.
His eyes smouldered.
He reached to cup her face. But instead of taking her lips, he laid his forehead against hers and groaned.
“My girl’s name is Dani. I’m in love with her, and I don’t want to want you.”
“Oh, Troy, I’m—”
“No, don’t say anything yet. Right now, I’m so close to making love to you that I’ll go crazy if we stop. Let me touch you for a few more seconds.” As he whispered, his hands continued to stroke and caress her lips, her cheeks—he smoothed her hair—an unconquerable task. Neck muscles gave way and her face fell forward into his big palms. He gently lifted her chin as if he couldn’t stand for her to be turned away. Her eyes grew heavy and closed; sensations rioted as the desire in his look grew too much for her. Under his touch, her body moved like a cat arching to its owner’s hand.
Another harsh groan—this time the sound of unmistakable pain. He thrust her away and strode to the window, hands clasping his lean hips while his head hung dejectedly.
“You are one beautiful woman, Ellie Ward. If my heart didn’t already belong to another, we’d be in a bed right now making love every way I know how.”
Unforeseen anger snuck up on her and blasted through her control. “Where is this paragon of virtue you’re so in love with? Why isn’t she here with you…” Huskiness plagued her voice, and forced her to stop spilling out her bizarre resentment. In one more second she would have told him his Dani wasn’t with him because she no longer existed. She’d grown up.
“She’s dealing with some family issues. There’s a situation she’s gotten into, and it needs to be resolved before we can be together.”
“What kind of situation?” Keep him talking so he won’t leave. The voice in her head refused to be ignored. Since she couldn’t bear to be alone just yet, she asked. “How old is this person you keep referring to as a girl?”
“That’s not important to how I feel.”
“How old?”
“Seventeen.” He answered, grumbling audibly.
“Seventeen? She’s a child.” The look on his face made her back off that issue. “What’s so important to her that she left you alone?”
“Nothing to be concerned about. She’s in a bit of trouble and—”
“Trouble? She’s pregnant?” Did he truly mind? It wasn’t a question she’d ever asked him. Her heartbeats quickened. To breathe became difficult over the barrier of fear that instantly attached itself to the swallowing apparatus in her throat. Her hands felt clammy as she gripped them together. She hoped the queasy feeling in her stomach wouldn’t erupt and shame her.
“For heaven’s sake! I’m not the father. Look! In the short time I knew her; she grew to be a part of me—more than I can ever explain. And trust me; her kid will be very lucky. Dani will make a wonderful mother. Even though I’ve never thought of being anyone’s dad, with her child, it would be a privilege.” He turned away as if his emotions were too private to share.
She couldn’t help herself. She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, clinging with everything in her.
He put his hands over hers, and let his body relax. “Knowing how much I love her, I can’t understand what kind of magic web this is that you’ve spread over me. I do know that if I turned around at this moment, I couldn’t stop myself from taking you in my arms.”
“Then turn. Please!”
“No!”
“Even though it’s what you want?”
“More than my next breath!” As if the words he’d uttered in a low growling voice had been replayed to him, he stiffened, broke away, and headed for the door.
“I’ve gotta go. I’ll return tomorrow for the interview.” The door slammed behind him.
If he’d looked back and seen the brilliant smile plastered over her face, he would have had questions. A lot of questions! He’d rejected her, hadn’t he? Except for one very important thing.
He hadn’t wanted to!
She attracted him, and that fact alone restored her joy, her equanimity, and the contentment she’d clung to for ten long years. She was getting to him.
Unused energy had her swaying around the room while her hands rubbed together. Her feet, seeming to have a mind of their own, soon began swinging her in dizzying circles.
She loved the fact that letting her go hadn’t been easy for him, but he’d done it. He was a man of strong principles. If he thought it hard tonight—the double entendre made her giggle—he didn’t know what she had in store for him tomorrow. Her arms lifted as she waltzed in and out of the moonbeams reflecting in the glass of the uncovered window.
Her silhouette stopped her. She stared at her image and slowly moved towards her chair, settling inside the safe haven where she’d spent so many lonely hours fanaticizing, building characters and making them fall in love. Pondering their two meetings, her previous giddiness faded.
She’d always visualized that Troy would instinctively recognize who she was at first glance. Some kind of a mysterious pull would occur the moment he set eyes on her, and he’d just know. Not once did she imagine a scenario where things didn’t happen in that way. And the fact that he hadn’t known she was Dani threw her off kilter, messed with all her plans.
Over the years many men had pursued her, tempted her, and tried to start a relationship. They hadn’t stood a chance. She’d obsessed over Troy to the point where no other man could ever live up to him. His pedestal loomed so high that even she was afraid. On the other hand, in ten years of growing up in the modern world one thing stood out clearly: attraction counted—physical attraction. If there was no sexual pull, they didn’t stan
d a chance.
She hugged herself and rubbed her hands up and down her arms. Thoughts played ping-pong in her head. Why was I so scared to gain some experience? I’m like a child when it comes to knowing what pleases a guy. How can I carry this seduction off when the only time I’ve ever carried on with a grown man was between the pages of my books?
A sigh sounded, deep and long. Maybe I should just tell him who I am? He wanted me tonight. Then words poured out from inside her before she could stop them. They sounded loud in the quiet, moonlit room. “Sure, he wanted you, but he loves Dani.” Her voice broke on the last word.
So, why couldn’t it be enough? That he loved the girl. What was driving this overpowering need for him to be attracted to the woman? The answer came to her in a flash.
After writing so many romance stories where the hero and heroine couldn’t keep their hands off each other, she wanted the same for herself. A man to want her beyond all that was sensible and all that was ordinary. Why couldn’t it be her turn to entice a man to where he’d be so crazy for her, he wouldn’t be able to turn away? One thing was certain. Her bosoms had worked tonight. Maybe showing off a little more of her body would work some additional magic?
Planning, and counting the hours until she’d see him next, she pictured her weapons. A lovely halter-top, one that revealed more than she normally felt comfortable showing, came to mind. Shorts—the really short ones that showed off her curves—yes! And her hair left free so he could run his hands through, as he’d tried to do earlier. The curls would be soft from the rainwater she’d use, and fragrant from the perfumed shampoo that would heighten his ardour, and…
She couldn’t wait for the night to pass. When he returned the next day, he wouldn’t know what hit him. Then, after they made beautiful love, she’d tell him her secret.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Would the night never end? Guilt had kept him awake and pacing for hours. He’d almost cheated on the love of his life, and he would never, ever, have imagined himself as a slimy, cheating bastard.
His conscience hounded him, driving him to knuckle-grinding desperation. Turning the remorse off wasn’t an option. Whenever he closed his eyes, the red-haired siren he’d craved and burned for earlier snuck into his thoughts. Naked, he lay on his bed and fretted, while the blanket, a victim of his restlessness, ended up pooled on the floor, a warm nest for a tired puppy.
There’d been no respite since he returned to his lonely room and a happy Buddy. The ramifications of recalled images of the earlier evening had him suffering like a horny teenager. He needed a woman, and the only one he wanted wasn’t available until Saturday.
Lying bastard!
He left the bed to pace again, his brain searching for some form of sanity. Nothing seemed normal to him anymore. Magic benches, time travel, spirit invasions… For heaven’s sake, he’d fallen in love with a seventeen-year-old pregnant girl he’d never laid eyes on but who had lived inside him long enough to sabotage his wits and steal his heart. Didn’t sound very normal to him.
On the other hand, he’d just spent the evening with a gorgeous woman who made his eyes go crossed from desire and hunger and… Accusations and remorse followed. There was nothing supernatural about the way his body had reacted to the woman he’d held earlier. He’d wanted her like he’d never wanted another. His brain knew she wasn’t the girl he loved, but his body couldn’t have cared less.
God, he was so screwed up! Probably not a good verb to use right then. The picture it brought to mind didn’t help with his goal to get some shuteye. He fell on the bed, snatched the pillow, folded it in half, and shoved it under his wild hair.
His mind whirled, snagged a “what if” and then switched to a “maybe.” Despair had him questioning whether Dani had been real or only his imagination. During those magical days spent with her, could he have been in a state of enchantment, like a spell or a pseudo hallucination?
Not a chance!
He lay on his bed hour after hour, wringing out his guilt and feeling as low as a snake. When his stamina finally waned, he gave in to his dreams. Dreams that took him where he couldn’t go awake—right back into the arms of the fascinating woman he’d torn himself away from earlier.
The smell of her permeated his subconscious. A sensuous, stimulating odour that drifted into his head and took hold. Lips ripe and wanting trailed over his face, and her soft hands first soothed the skin of his cheeks, then plunged through his hair, forcing his head closer. His power to refuse shattered. Like an addict whose drug has been withheld for too long, her kiss drained until his body shuddered and all but collapsed. He scooped her closer.
Dream Girl still wore the low-cut black dress he’d so admired. His lips travelled to her neck. He sucked and licked her skin, winding his way first up to her ears, under her chin, and then downward to the slopes of her breasts. His hands joined his mouth as he scraped the slinky material and her lacy bra—first down, then under, forcing her enticing mounds to protrude until her nipples stared him in the face. Suckling, biting, he made love to one side and quickly shifted, not forgetting the other.
Her moans of approval heightened his pleasure, and his voice joined hers. They hummed together—electric sparks heating to burn temperature. Trembling limbs, both his and hers, forced him to slow down. Lack of breath made him stop.
He looked his fill—past the white skin, the secretive eyes, and into the heart of the precious fantasy woman he held so gently in his arms…
And he knew.
The knowing wasn’t an explosion of wisdom, but a soft smile of acceptance. How could he have been fooled for even a millisecond? She was his feminine side, everything beautiful in his life, his very own Dani. No one but Dani could make his heart sing this way or twist his senses into loops of happiness.
His eyes opened. The dream drifted away. He was left with a memory—and a body so aroused that he endured carnal discomfort once again.
From the first moment in Ellie’s company he’d felt a strange link existing between them. He’d been attracted to her more than to any other female he’d ever met. Obviously his physical side connected even when his common sense hadn’t recognized her.
Her way of laughing about things had seemed familiar, and his instinctive understanding of why she found something humorous made being in her company so easy. Thinking back, he recognized that even the inflections of sadness in Ellie’s voice were the exact replica of Dani’s. When she’d discussed the old folks’ future after the fire, he’d known exactly how she felt. He remembered quaint phrases she’d used at their last meeting and shook his head at his blindness.
The more he thought on it, the more it made sense. Only she wasn’t seventeen. How much older was she? After the bank robbery, he remembered that he’d done a bit of research, and her bio had listed her as twenty-six. He calculated quickly. Holy hell! It meant that, for her, their days together must have happened some ten years ago.
Heck, even her daughter, Amy, looked the right age and fit into that picture perfectly. Seems Dani’s intuition had been correct after all. She had been pregnant.
Fury surpassed sexual dissatisfaction. Why the hell hadn’t she told him? He sat on the side of the bed, head in his hands. Why hadn’t she approached him honestly, explained the truth about the time travel, about the difference of ten years? What possessed her to play games—to fool with him and his emotions? The only ideas that made any sense at all disturbed and saddened.
She mustn’t trust him. If he’d done the deed with Ellie, she’d have had proof he was a womanizing jerk who couldn’t wait even a week to claim his girl.
Anger simmered, boiled, and ran over at her treachery. The muscles in his arms tightened as fists formed and clenched. How could a man put his faith in a deceiver? How could she have done this to him after what they’d been through? The smile he wore wasn’t pretty—diabolical would describe it more accurately. He’d repay her for her lies and secrecy.
What if I turn the tables on her? Pa
yback might be wrong, but it’ll be damn satisfying. After all, making love to Ellie would really be making love with a grown-up Dani. It wouldn’t be cheating—not really; only she won’t know I’ve figured out her secret.
His girl—no, his woman—needed to be taught a lesson about manipulating people. And he was just the man to teach her.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Dani looked into the mirror for the umpteenth time, checking to be sure her shorts weren’t too short. That her halter-top fit exactly right, and that her crazy hair, which normally gave her conniptions, didn’t ruin the image she wanted to portray.
With gardening gloves and her pretty shade hat ready as props, he’d think she’d been gardening when he arrived. In actual fact, her everyday gardening gear looked more like ragged jeans cut off at the knee, worn with an old T-shirt tatty from too many washes, and a squished and ancient sunhat that fit tightly enough to control her flyaway curls. Not the look she wanted for today. She had in mind something quite different.
Mouth-wateringly sexy, yes—but not easy.
Interested and willing. Good.
An equal—a woman of today who had the poise and pizzazz to choose whichever man she wanted.
If his resistance still couldn’t be overcome, she’d have to accept it, but knowing that Dani the woman attracted him as much as Dani the girl would go a long way to putting her mind at ease.
The hands on the clock moved too slowly. Changing her mind about her outfit wasn’t an option; she’d already tried on half her closet. She knew, having lived with him, not to expect him for at least a couple of hours. He used the mornings to write the work he’d gathered the day before. Therefore, she wouldn’t be seeing him any time before lunch. What to do? She’d go crazy without something to occupy her. Forget starting her new book. She hadn’t made any sense on paper since he’d arrived in Bury.
Updating the beautifully tooled leather scrapbook she had lovingly kept on his work and successes all these years pleasured her immensely, but she had nothing more to add. She’d already put in the latest fire-victim articles.
