by Kathryn Shay
“Then tell me.”
Suddenly, it all came flooding back. The shock. The horror. The unrelenting sadness. Amanda clutched a handful of Nick’s shirt. “My sister, Lisa, she...she was very unhappy at the end of her life. I don’t know how much you know about spina bifida.”
“Some. I did a lot of research on birth defects when Jason was born.”
“His condition isn’t congenital, is it?”
“No, it’s multifactorial. It had many contributing causes. But spina bifida is congenital, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Lisa was born with an opening in the spinal column. They operated immediately, but even the best doctors couldn’t stop the paralysis. Luckily, she had pretty good control over her bowel and bladder. Not all victims do.”
He tugged her closer. “Something to be thankful for.”
“Anyway, the symptoms stayed pretty much the same until she was about twenty-five. Then she developed ulcers.”
“Is that common?”
“Initially it is. It’s unusual for it to happen so late. She got progressively sicker, in more and more pain. Eventually, she just couldn’t handle it anymore. She took her own life, Nick, two years ago March fifteenth.”
Amanda began to cry softly. Nick held on to her, his own eyes moist.
She mumbled the rest into his broad, comforting chest. “I should have known what was going on. I should have seen the signs, loss of appetite, bouts of crying, giving away precious possessions. But I was so unhappy with Porter and my own life that I wasn’t there for her.”
Patiently he let her cry some more, then turned her to face him. “Amanda, hindsight is always twenty-twenty. Of course there are things you could have done. But ultimately, that doesn’t make you responsible for your sister’s suicide. She took her own life. She wasn’t strong enough to survive her pain, like you told the kids today about Ron. Hell, I don’t know if I’d have been strong enough to survive her pain. But there was certainly nothing you could do to stop her desperate actions. Not hers. Not Ron’s. You can help people, but you can’t live their lives for them. And you don’t end them, either.”
His words brought more tears, but this time they were cleansing, healing ones. On a professional level, she knew he was right. But on a personal one, it was hard to accept that there was only so much you could do for someone else.
Finally, she relaxed back into Nick’s embrace. She dozed, then felt herself being lifted, cradled in strong arms and carried to her room. She’d slipped into lounging pajamas earlier, so he laid her on the bed as she was, covering her with a huge, downy quilt. She heard his shoes hit the floor and felt him sink into the mattress. He gathered her into his arms and held her tenderly. “Sleep, sweetheart, it’s the best medicine right now.”
“Don’t leave me,” she murmured.
“Never.”
o0o
Amanda woke twice during the night, once in a sweat, crying for her sister. The second time, she called for Ron. Both times, Nick was there to hold her and soothe her fears.
At dawn, she was wide-awake as he eased from the bed. “I have to go, honey. I want to be there when Heather wakes up. Will you be okay?”
“Yes,” she assured him, though she didn’t want him to leave. What she wanted more than anything else in the world was to make love with him. In her professional mind, she knew it was a common reaction to the aftermath of death, to affirm life in so elemental a way. But she knew in her woman’s heart that it was also a deep craving for the man himself.
o0o
Nick spent the next day with his daughter and it felt good to be able to console her. But he worried about Amanda. He phoned her twice, once when Tammy called and asked Heather to stay overnight. Nick was surprised Heather wanted to go, and contacted Amanda for her opinion.
Amanda thought it was a good sign, and pretty normal, that Heather wanted to distract herself from Ron’s death. After talking to Heather herself about how she was feeling, Amanda advised Nick to let his daughter find solace with her friend.
When his father phoned at four, Nick mentioned that Heather was gone for the night. Ever astute, Ange DiMarco asked if his only son might like a free evening and Nick jumped at the chance. He showered quickly and dressed. Then he packed up Jason, dropped him off at his parents’ house and was at Amanda’s by six. He hoped to surprise her with both his presence and his freedom for the night, but he was the one in for the unexpected.
She answered the door wearing a lightweight turquoise running suit that made her eyes the color of the sea. Her hair was tied back into a ponytail and she wore no makeup.
“You look about eighteen,” he said just before he grabbed her and kissed her soundly on the mouth. She hesitated, pulling out of his arms, something she’d never done before.
Nick held her loosely and frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“I have company. Come on in.” When he scowled, she whispered, “Don’t be cross.”
He found Tom Mannerly sprawled on her sofa drinking his beer. Jesus.
“Nick, you know Tom Mannerly from the high school. He just stopped over to see if I was all right.”
Remembering the night before, Nick was ashamed of his jealousy. He turned to Amanda and touched her cheek in a proprietary way even a monkey wouldn’t misinterpret. “Are you?”
The vice-principal didn’t miss the innuendo. He coughed uncomfortably, stood up and reached for the ski jacket he’d thrown over the chair. “I’ll be going now, Amanda. I see you’re well taken care of.”
Amanda stepped to the side of Nick. “Thanks for coming, Tom. It was sweet of you to be so concerned.”
As Mannerly walked by her, he touched her arm. “I...we all care about you. You’re a valued member of our staff.”
Nick stared at the other man’s hand, trying to keep his reaction in check. God, DiMarco, she’s had a hell of a time. The poor sap came to see if she was all right. But despite his admonition to himself, he eased his arm around her shoulders and the gesture spoke volumes.
After Tom left, Amanda looked at him quizzically. “What was that all about?”
“Territorial rights,” Nick said, only half joking, and pulled her back to his chest, his eyes glowing with sexual intensity. “And I just established mine loud and clear.”
Staring at him for a moment, she giggled and hugged him. “I shouldn’t like it, but I do.”
“Good.” He held her close for a minute. “Guess what?”
“What?”
“Heather did stay overnight at her friend’s house.”
“I think sometimes kids can help each other more than we can help them.”
Nick nodded. His gaze was darkly sensual as he added, “And my dad has Jason.”
“For the whole night?”
“Uh-huh.”
Peering into his stormy eyes with promise in hers, she whispered, “Then take me to bed, Nick.”
His arms tightened around her. “God, I thought you’d never ask.”
Gently, Nick scooped her up into his embrace and found his way to her bedroom once more. He’d been so concerned about her last night, he hadn’t noticed the interior.
Soft. Everything in the room was soft. Pale pink walls, mauve covers, shimmery silver blinds. The space smelled the way she did, a mixture of her lotions, shampoo and perfume. It was a large room containing an oak bed with a rounded headboard of slatted spindles, two low dressers and chairs and a large vanity. The bathroom opened off it and was decorated with the same motif. One muted paper light was switched on in the corner.
“Like it?” she asked as she watched him study the decor.
He set her down on her feet and growled into her hair. “Not as much as I like you.”
He kissed her thoroughly then and she leaned into him. Feeling a slight tension in her reminded him of her past experiences with lovemaking. Slowly, he stroked her back, a sudden inspiration coming to him. He eased his hands under her sweatshirt and rubbed her warm bare skin. “Did you hear the joke about th
e madam who ran the house of ill repute?”
Eyes wide, Amanda’s jaw dropped.
“I take it that’s a no,” he said with a chuckle. “The women who serviced the brothel were all professionals during the daytime and were grouped by floors at night. After a few months, the madam noticed that every time a man returned for another visit, he’d ask for the third floor.”
Placing his hands on the hem of her top, Nick pulled it over her head. “The madam couldn’t understand it,” he continued, kissing the exposed tops of her breasts underneath the bra. It was pale peach and she filled it to capacity. His voice sounded hoarse to his own ears as he went on. “Because on the third floor were the plain, ordinary schoolteachers.”
He nuzzled her cleavage and then his mouth trailed the silk to her nipple. He bit it gently. “That night, she decided to eavesdrop on each floor to determine why these men preferred the plain, ordinary schoolteachers.” Nick deftly unclasped her bra and began to knead her breasts. “On the first floor, where all the gorgeous models were, the madam heard, ‘No, don’t do that, you’re going to mess my makeup.’”
Amanda giggled and groaned consecutively.
Sliding his hands beneath the waistband of her pants, he caressed her bottom. “On the second floor, where all the businesswomen were, she heard, ‘Okay, let’s get this over quickly so we can get on to the next thing.’”
Amanda chuckled but it soon turned into a whimper as he eased his hand around front and cupped her. “Then she listened into the third floor where the plain, ordinary schoolteachers were.”
Pushing her sweats down, he knelt to pull them off. When he rose, she stood before him gloriously naked. “And what the madam heard one of the teachers say to the customer was, ‘Okay, if we don’t get it right this time, we’ll do it over and over until we do get it right.’”
Amanda laughed as he caught her into his arms. He could feel her skin against his clothes and it made him painfully hard. Pulling back from her slightly, he brushed the mane from her face. Her eyes were dilated with arousal and her cheeks were flushed. “It’s more than a joke, babe.”
“I don’t understand.”
“That’s right, you don’t understand. If we don’t get it right this time, we just keep trying, too. There’s no pressure on you. Just enjoy what we’re going to do together.”
Amanda could have wept at his sensitivity. How had he known that humor was the perfect way to ease her reservations?
She watched him step back from her and pull his sweater over his head. It disheveled his hair appealingly and made her long to run her hands through the thick, coarse mass. When he went to unbutton his striped shirt, her eyes flew to his fingers. Noting her stare, he took her hands in his and brought them to his chest. “Do you want to do it?”
She nodded.
“Honey, do anything you want to me. Anything that feels good to you, on your body, will feel as good to me.”
Encouraged, she released each button of his shirt. Tilting her head, she kissed the exposed skin and felt the hair tickle her nose. She breathed in his cologne. “You smell so good.”
His chest jerked at her words. She smiled against his skin. Lord, she wanted this.
Continuing her delightful discovery of his body, she ran her hands down his back and felt him shiver. His response made her brave and she slid her palms to his buttocks. The muscles there went taut and she massaged them gently. He moaned, his fingers flying to his belt. She liked knowing he was in a hurry. Batting them away, she took her time removing it.
“Tease,” he mumbled.
She wanted to whoop. Me, a tease? Oh, God, thank you.
But she found herself on her back for her taunt. The full weight of him on her was exciting.
“Too heavy?”
“No, never.”
“Feel good?”
“Unbelievable.”
He thrust his hips forward and he throbbed against her belly. “Believe it.”
Then, he rained kisses all over her neck and chest, stopping to caress one beaded nipple with his tongue. “You like that, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
He continued this for a moment, then went lower and licked her abdomen. He felt her start.
“What is it?”
She whimpered as he kissed the tiny indentation there. When his mouth went lower to nuzzle her curls, she all but arched off the bed. He stopped, as if trying to decide how far to go. She was entranced at the strange sensations caused by his mouth and was disappointed when he drew himself up. Peering into her eyes, he asked, “Too new? Too much?”
“New, but not too much. I just feel so innocent with you.”
Bending over her, braced on his forearms, he stared at her. “Yeah, well, you don’t look innocent.”
She grinned. “How do I look?”
“Absolutely beautiful.” He nuzzled her neck. “And sexy as hell.”
“So are you. I’ve wanted to do this, too, for a long time.” Her hands glided up his chest again.
He closed his eyes at the feel of her caress. “Do what?”
She drew designs in his chest hair. “Tell you how attractive you are. How I love looking at you. I’ve never told a man that before.”
Opening his eyes, he smiled. “Feel free to say anything you want to me, especially that.”
Slowly she eased up on her elbows. “In that case, you’re gorgeous and sexy. Too sexy.”
His laugh was low and he nudged her down with his nose. “There’s no such thing as too sexy. Just like there’s no such thing as too rich.”
Before she could react to his reminder of their differences, he took her mouth. His tongue explored every crevice, then went back for more. Sinking onto the mattress, he pulled her over him. He caressed her bottom with long, smooth strokes.
On top of him now, she took advantage of the position, bent her head and kissed his chest again. He tensed when her tongue flicked a male peak. She traveled down and kissed his stomach, as he had kissed hers. He moaned and clutched the sheets. When her mouth neared his groin, he reached up and grabbed the headboard. Her fingers closed around his penis and he arched his back. She ran her palm up and down twice and agonized sounds escaped from his clenched teeth.
“Hurt?”
“I’m in pain.”
“Too much?”
“Never.”
“Want me to stop?”
“Don’t you dare.”
She didn’t. Until his moans strung together into one long groan. Suddenly, she was flipped on her back and he hovered over her. “Don’t you ever, ever tell me again that you can’t arouse a man. I’m near to dying from your touch.”
Her smile was as old as Eve’s. He kissed it off her face and ground his body into hers. She knew he was near the end of his restraint and she gloried in it.
Reaching for his jeans, he fumbled with his wallet. He yanked out a foil packet, tore it open and had the condom on in seconds. He kneed her legs apart and spoke softly. “Look at me, love.” When she did, he entered her slowly. She was slippery and very, very wet. He inched his way in and she wanted to raise her hips to hurry him, but he held them firmly to the bed. “You’re mine,” he whispered just as the length of him reached her womb. She felt full and feminine and she was moved to tears. But when he began to thrust, she lost all conscious thought. Soon—too soon—the exquisite oneness gave way to shattering pleasure that kept coming and coming. The world continued to explode around her as he pushed in longer and harder strokes. She cried out several times, his name, endearments, prayers, dimly aware of similar cries from him when his climax finally broke through. It lasted almost as long as hers before he settled down on her sated body and buried his face in her neck.
When he could finally move again, Nick eased off her. He’d never felt pleasure like this before, and it was more than satisfying to know he’d given her what no man had. But the connection he felt with Amanda was his dominant emotion.
And it scared him to death. How had he risk
ed his heart on this woman? No, how had he lost it to her?
“What is it?” She propped herself up on her elbows.
He forced himself to shake off his reservations and opted for teasing. “You wrung me out, lady. And I’m not sure I like my loss of control.”
“I did?”
“Yeah. And I have the skid marks to prove it.”
She blushed prettily.
“Don’t you dare go coy on me. Not after what you just did to me. After what I just did to you. After what I’m going to do to you again.” Turning her over to her stomach, he straddled her. “I’ve got lots more to teach you tonight,” he whispered in her ear before he began tracing her spine with his tongue. “And no doubt, lots more to learn from my little Lolita-in-disguise.”
The flattery was real, but the teasing was meant to distract her. And him. He’d deal with the reality of how hard and fast he’d fallen for her tomorrow.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ron’s death spurred Amanda to renew the resolutions she’d made when Lisa died. She vowed again to live each day to the fullest and make the most of the time she had with the people she loved.
It was Nick’s thirty-fifth birthday two weeks after the teenager’s funeral and she’d persuaded him to allow her to treat the family, including Beth, to dinner as her present to him. It had taken all her negotiation skills on several fronts to pull this off.
First she’d had to convince her very stubborn man.
“Absolutely not!” he’d said firmly when she’d brought it up.
Instinctively, she’d known when to time her request. She’d picked a night after their lovemaking had been particularly satisfying…
“Why not?” She lay sprawled across him, her hair tumbling around her naked shoulders.
“I don’t need charity.” He tried to sound stern, but she knew it was difficult when she was drawing patterns in his chest hair and his whole body still hummed from their union.
“It can be your gift.”
He cupped her bare bottom. “That’s not what I want for my birthday.” His voice was husky and he looked rakish with his hair falling onto his forehead and the sheet tangled around his legs.
