When a Man Loves a Woman

by Kathryn Shay

  He kissed her quickly, then opened the door fast, as if he no longer trusted himself. Amanda watched his retreating back. She started the car, and still surrounded by Nick’s scent, pulled away from the curb in a fog of longing.

  She was halfway down the block before it began to clear and she realized with a jolt that he’d called her Mandy. A name only one person on this earth had ever used for her. Her sister Lisa.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Beth DiMarco kept her promise and took Amanda to dinner the following Saturday. As they pulled into Corelli’s parking lot, Amanda gripped her purse and turned to the other woman. “Oh, Beth, maybe this isn’t such a good idea. The last time I was here, my father was so rude to Nick.”

  Beth’s eyes, so like her brother’s, shone with pleasure. “I’m glad you’re worried about his feelings,” she said, her gaze direct. “But don’t be. Actually, it was Nicky’s idea that I bring you here. When I told him I was calling you to take you to dinner, he suggested it.”

  Warmth spread through Amanda. “Really? That’s great.”

  Reaching out, Beth squeezed her arm. “Nick’s had a tough few years, Amanda. He’s a lonely man and I don’t think it’s good for him. It’s time he let a woman in his life again.”

  Unspoken, Amanda heard Beth’s approval of her. And it scared her. The kiss and the caresses in the car had been wonderful but frightening. It wasn’t exactly that Amanda had accepted her lack of sexuality— somewhere in her heart she’d suspected that the fault lay partially with Porter, or at least her lack of attraction to him. But to confirm that she could indeed respond, and powerfully, was charting new waters. Would she drown in her responses to Nick DiMarco?

  You should be so lucky, Lisa would say. The thought made her smile as they walked into the restaurant and were seated at a coveted corner table.

  Amanda saw the interior of Corelli’s through a different lens tonight. She still appreciated its smart white tablecloths, black napkins and soft-focus lighting, which gave the place a subtly sophisticated ambience. But this evening, it seemed warmer, cozier than when she’d been here several weeks ago with Craig and her parents. Then it had been cold. She smiled at how things had changed for her since then.

  “And what mischief are the two lovely ladies at table six plotting?” a deep voice from beside her teased.

  Beth smiled at Nick. “Hi, bro.”

  “Hi, Bethy.” Then he turned to face Amanda. “Hello, Mandy.”

  “Hello, Nick.” Amanda’s pulse quickened as she stared up at him. She recalled where she’d been three nights ago the first time he’d used the nickname. When she looked into his eyes, she saw them glimmer with a sensuality that told her he, too, remembered those few stolen moments in the car.

  Poising his pencil over a pad, he never released her gaze. “What can I get you to drink?”

  “Chianti for me.” This from Beth.

  Amanda placed her elbows on the table, rested her chin on her folded hands and peered up at him. “I’ll have a Chardonnay, the driest you have.”

  “Right.” He winked at her and his smile made the act of breathing difficult.

  Beth’s eyes glistened after he left.

  “What is it?” Amanda asked, concerned.

  “That’s the old Nick. I haven’t seen him in years, but it’s how he was before...” Beth stopped short of her declaration.

  Taking the opening she’d unwittingly been given, Amanda addressed the issue. “Beth, I know about Nick’s ex-wife. He told me the basic facts as background for helping Heather. What I don’t understand is why all of you pretend she didn’t exist. I’m not being critical, but as Heather’s counselor, I don’t think it’s healthy.”

  Again, a gleam of admiration shone in the younger DiMarco’s eyes, and she leaned forward on her forearms. “You don’t pull any punches, do you?”

  Though she felt a tremor of insecurity, Amanda faced Beth squarely. “If you think I’m out of line, you have to know that I’ll risk anything to help Heather.”

  “No, no, you’re right to ask. And yes, we all avoid talking about Suzanne. She left the three of them devastated and Nick insists no one remind the kids of her.”

  An insidious feeling coiled through Amanda. This was going to be a problem between her and Nick. She just knew it.

  Then he appeared with their drinks and the biggest antipasto she’d ever seen, and she once again forgot her reservations. “Compliments of the chef who, incidentally, has the hots for my baby sister. But he thinks she needs fattening up.”

  Both women laughed, and Nick added, “I, however, think the two of you are just perfect.”

  The meal was delightful. Linguine was interspersed with more teasing from Nick, visits from Tony Corelli and the clearly enamored chef.

  After they finished the last bite of tiramisu, and pushed the dessert plates away with matching groans, Nick materialized one last time. “Are you ladies in a hurry?”

  Amanda answered first and fast. Too fast. “No, no, I’m not.”

  Beth blessedly saved her from total embarrassment. “Me, neither. Want us to wait in the bar until you’re done and give you a lift home?”

  “I’d like that, since my car’s in the shop again.”

  It all passed in a flurry of activity. One minute they were in the bar having a Bailey’s, the next, Nick had joined them. He’d changed into jeans and a light gray thermal shirt. They’d gotten into Beth’s car with Nick driving. He dropped his sister off at her apartment and, with big-brotherly presumptuousness, declared he’d return her car tomorrow before she had to go to work. Then, he zipped to Amanda’s house, walked her to the steps and asked to come in. In the foyer, he looked around with surprise. “Doing a lot of remodeling, aren’t you?”

  His glance took in the newly installed unpainted drywall and the old flooring that was sanded and waiting to be refinished. It was the same in every room but the kitchen, her bedroom and a back porch. She led him there, to the cozy space that had been converted to a year-round sun-room. Windows surrounded them, two skylights interrupted the sloped cedar ceiling above a rough-hewn stone fireplace. Large stuffed tapestry couches were accented with solid-colored chairs.

  “Have a seat here.” She indicated the sofa with a sweep of her hand and her tone was teasing. “Maybe this room won’t offend your sensibilities so much.”

  He grinned self-effacingly and plopped down. “Picked up on my penchant for tidiness, did you?”

  Amanda nodded and smiled. “Can I get you something?”

  Nick closed his eyes and groaned. Could she really be such an innocent that she’d ask that of a man who’d been devouring her with his eyes all evening?

  Forcing aside those thoughts, he agreed to coffee and scanned the room while she was gone. He could tell it was used frequently, and though cluttered, it was clean. An unwelcome thought came to the surface: would she’d tire of this unremarkable living and flee to the exclusive suburb where she’d lived before?

  He stood up to distract himself from these forebodings and wandered over to a wall unit. No adolescent tomes graced these shelves. Stuck in every nook and cranny, crushed together like lovers, were hundreds of bestsellers. He plucked one from the shelf and leafed through it.

  So, she liked romance. And love stories. At one time, he liked books containing relationships. That was when he’d believed in happy endings. Now he read law books, but when he had occasion for recreational reading, he chose Stephen King. Horror seemed to fit his life better.

  Replacing the book, he picked up a picture on the desk. It was recent, as Amanda didn’t look much different. She was with a woman about two or three years younger who had the same nose, high cheekbones and full mouth. Their hair was the exact color, though the shape of their faces was different. Amanda looked wary, but the other woman had a devilish gleam in her eyes. He’d seen that same spark in Jason, but he could be drawing the conclusion because of their most obvious comparison: the woman was in a wheelchair.

  He heard
Amanda enter and pivoted with the photo in his hand. “Your sister?”

  “Yes.” Amanda bit her bottom lip.

  Nick fingered the silver frame gently. “How old is she?”

  “In that picture, she was twenty-nine.” Her voice was tinged with a pain that Nick’s battered heart recognized. “She never made it to her thirtieth birthday.”

  “I’m sorry, Mandy.”

  Smiling sadly, Amanda asked in a seeming non sequitur, “Why do you call me that?”

  “I guess because Amanda is too formal, too sophisticated. And I don’t want to see you that way.” Carefully, Nick placed the photo back on the table.

  As she handed him a mug, she chuckled and sank onto the couch. Nick followed suit. “My sister, Lisa, had more unflattering terms for my name. She’s the only other one who ever used Mandy.”

  Sensing this had deep significance, Nick smiled. “Then I’m flattered by the similarity.” He looked back at the picture. “What was wrong with her?”

  “She had spina bifida.”

  Nick’s forehead furrowed. He stretched his free hand across the back of the couch. It hovered near her hair. “But you don’t die from that.”

  “No,” Amanda answered woodenly and leaned back, almost unconsciously, as if she was seeking his touch. “You don’t. Not in the way you mean.” She sat up straight and shook off the pall. “She was a lot like Jason in other ways than being confined to a wheelchair. She loved those corny jokes he tells.”

  “Ah, so that’s why you’re so evenly matched with him.”

  “You haven’t been around to see that.”

  “No, but he told me all about it. In detail. You’ve got a kindred spirit there.” Before she could respond, he snagged a strand of her hair and rolled it between his fingers. “You’re great with him and Heather. You’ve got a real talent for listening, for helping young people.”

  Amanda’s eyes glowed. But there was a flicker of insecurity there, too. “Do I?”

  “Yes, you do.” He scowled. None of this fit with his preconceived notions of her. “You’re really dedicated to your career, aren’t you?”

  “Of course I am. I want to do something more than look good and spend money. No one thinks I can do anything worthwhile.” She narrowed her eyes and looked over at the photo on the table. “But I will, for my sake and for Lisa’s.”

  Uneasy, Nick drew back from her.

  Amanda held his gaze. “You know what I mean, don’t you?”

  “About succeeding, despite the odds or the opinions of others?” She nodded. “Yeah.” He was quiet a moment and she didn’t interfere with his reflection. “I want to be the top lawyer in the city so badly I can taste it. I’ve wanted it so long, so much that pursuing it has become a way of life.” His jaw hardened. “And I’ll get it, too.”

  “Why is that so important to you, Nick?”

  No one had ever asked him that. After a slight pause, he tried to articulate his feelings. “I didn’t always feel this way. I was happy, even though we didn’t have much growing up. But in the last ten years, Heather and Jason have had so few material possessions and life in general has been so grim that I’m determined to provide more for my family. I don’t want to have to worry about Jason’s medical bills anymore. I want Heather to have pretty things.” He looked at her intently. “And, quite honestly, my male ego could use the professional success.” Nick sat up straight, picked up his mug and smiled. “Now that I’ve bared my soul, tell me more about your sister.”

  Amanda looked at him shrewdly, but let the change of subject drop. Mischief glimmered in her eyes. “She loved lawyer jokes. Did you hear the one about the attorney who died and went to Saint Peter for judgment? The lawyer said it was too soon to die, he was only forty-six. Peter shuffled through a mound of papers, and answered dryly, ‘According to the hours you billed your clients, you’re ninety-three.’”

  Laughing at the punch line, Nick took the cue to keep the discussion light. He set his coffee down on the table and stretched his feet out in front of him. They talked easily about the house, his kids, Tony and everything else. To distract themselves from the needs and hopes and aspirations that had just been confessed in this quiet, intimate room, Nick thought. They also needed distraction from each other.

  Finally, he couldn’t take it any longer. In the middle of yet another story about his family, he stopped talking, leaned over and removed the cup from her hands. He slid a palm to her face and caressed its silky texture, rubbed her bottom lip with his thumb. “Enough. I’ve been dying to do this all night and I can’t wait another second.”

  Lowering his head to her lips, he touched them briefly, then trailed feathery kisses along her jaw to the exposed neckline of the one piece suit he’d been fantasizing about for hours. His return journey was as slow and sensuous, and by the time he reached her mouth again, he could feel the restlessness in her body. She arched to get closer to him, and he obliged her by encircling her waist with his arm.

  Once more, he was struck by how firm, how substantial she felt in his hands. Thought fled, though, when she ran her hands up his arms and threaded them through his hair. He took her mouth again, demanding entrance. When he broke away, his lips found the pulse at her throat. Gently, he tongued it while his hand slid up her arm and hovered over her breast.

  “I want to touch you intimately, Mandy. Do you want that, too?”

  He felt her swallow. “Yes, Nick, I want that, too.”

  Smiling into the silk of her skin, he raised his head to look at her. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing hard. He cupped her breast and when he kneaded it softly, she groaned with pleasure. “Look at me.” She opened her eyes. “Do you like this?” He took her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and rolled it gently. She nodded. “What does it make you feel?”

  She waited so long, he thought she might not answer. Finally, she whispered, “It makes me feel connected, part of you. I’ve never experienced that before.”

  “Good.” He continued his sensuous ministration on the other breast. As he did so, she tensed slightly.

  “Amanda? What is it?”

  She drew in a deep, exasperated breath and hid her face in the cotton of his shirt. “I’m scared, Nick.”

  Shock was too mild a word to describe his reaction. He raised a hand to her chin and tenderly forced her to look at him. “Are you afraid of me?”

  Twin scarlet slashes burned her cheeks. “Not in the way you’re thinking. It’s just that, like I told you before, I haven’t been very good at this. And Porter didn’t mind so much. But you’re so...so masculine, so virile. I’m afraid I won’t be enough for you, Nick.”

  He experienced two conflicting emotions simultaneously. He was furious with her jackass of a husband who’d made her feel inferior, who’d made her think this shit was true. And he was thrilled that he was the only man she responded to. He pulled her to him and wrapped her in the security of his arms. Holding her close, he whispered in her ear, “If you were any more enough, Amanda Carson, I’d be bursting out of my jeans right now.”

  She buried her face in his shoulder again, and he knew she was embarrassed. He eased back from her and met her eyes. “Don’t be shy with me. You’ve got me so hot, I’m about to combust. How can anyone who does that not be woman enough, sexy enough for me? God, I’d like to pummel the jerk who made you think that about yourself.”

  Her eyes darkened with the need to believe him. To convince her further, Nick took her hand in his, and brought it to his mouth for a gentle kiss. Then he trailed it down the front of his body and felt his muscles leap into the curve of its caress.

  “Do you feel that? It’s just from your light touch.” He kept going, each muscle responding in kind. She smiled in surprise until he got below his belt. “Here too, honey. Feel what you do to me here. I’ve been hard for you all night. God, it feels like heaven when you touch me now.”

  He let go of her hand but she didn’t draw it away. Instead, she pressed it against the swe
lling of his zipper. He was throbbing and he worried that, like a teenage boy in the back seat of his father’s car, he’d embarrass himself.

  He groaned, loudly, reveling in her touch. After a moment of the exquisite torture, he yanked her hand away and found her mouth again.

  This time the union was totally carnal. Amanda was more involved and less hesitant. She met his tongue with hers, dug her nails into his shoulders and pressed her breasts to his chest. He wished he’d opened the buttons of her silky top so he could feel her against him, but he was so intent on her mouth and on exploring the lovely curve of her spine and then her bottom that he didn’t want to backtrack.

  The caresses went on as long as Nick could stand them. He stopped when he knew any more touching would lead them down a path he was certain Amanda wasn’t ready for. She needed to explore her sexuality a little more slowly and he’d be damned if he’d blow it like the other man in her life.

  Besides, buddy, there’s still some doubt there. Some distrust. Isn’t there?

  Of all the mistakes he’d made in his life, and there were some beauties, Nick DiMarco had never lied to himself. And, as he pulled away from Amanda and began to wind down their passionate interlude, he admitted the truth, at least to himself. He was still wary of this beautiful and sensuous woman who trembled in his arms.

  And not only for Heather’s sake.

  o0o

  “Why didn’t the husband report it when his MasterCard was stolen?” Matt Barone straddled his chair, propped his hands and chin on the back of it and grinned devilishly.

  “Is this a sexist joke, Matthew?”

  He rocked in his seat. “Aw, come on, Teach, you can take it.”

  “Okay. Why didn’t he report it?”

  “Because the thief was charging less per week than his wife.” Matt laughed boisterously.

  “Oh, man, Ms. C., you gonna let him get away with that?” Sandi asked.

  Amanda drew a bead on the offender. “I’ll get him back, next time. I’ll resurrect my worst adolescent-boy joke.”

  Again, everyone laughed at the implied threat, even Heather. It was mid-November and this was her sixth session with the group. Although she’d said very little about her own state of mind, she listened intently and had even made a few comments when the others had talked about their problems. They, in turn, had taken her under their wing, as Amanda had expected. There was something about Heather’s lack of worldliness and her vulnerability that reached out to them like an open invitation to protect her.