by Elle Kennedy
“I…” Unable to speak, she stumbled backwards, trying to place some distance between them.
“If it hurts to talk about it, you don’t have to. I was just surprised, that’s all. I never knew you were pregnant.”
“Well, I was,” she snapped.
He dropped his hand. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
Seeing the hurt flickering in his eyes, her face softened. “No. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” She drew a long breath. “It’s just really painful talking about it.”
“I understand.” He paused, looking hesitant. “You’ll have another child someday, Ellie. And you’ll be a wonderful mother.”
She nearly choked on her bitterness. “Luke…”
“No, let me say this.” He swallowed. “I know I can be a jerk, stubborn at times, maybe a little overbearing. But I promise you, I’m going to spend the rest of my life making you happy. I want us to make a life together. A family. I want to give you a child. I know it won’t make up for the one you lost, but…”
“Luke…stop.” She swallowed hard, trying not to look at his earnest eyes. “I don’t think we should be talking about this right now.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because I’m not ready for it. I can’t make any commitments right now.”
Again he said, “Why the hell not?”
“Because I’m too confused.”
“About me? You think I don’t mean what I’m saying?”
“I know you mean it.” She drew in a long breath. “This has nothing to do with whether or not you mean it. It has to do with me.” She shook her head, suddenly feeling frustrated. “Dancing was my entire life, and now I can’t do it anymore. And the accident…I lost more than my baby, Luke. I had a hysterectomy.”
He faltered. “You did?”
She nodded, and the sadness that creased Luke’s strong features was like a knife twisting in her heart. “I can’t have kids. I can’t dance. I can’t think about moving on with my life without reliving all that pain, Luke.”
“I can help you through it.”
“You can’t. It’s something I need to do on my own. I thought coming here, running away from everything, was the answer, but it’s not.” She sighed. “You and Josh are right. I need to go home and figure out what the hell I’m going to do now that my career is shot to hell.”
“Why do you need to figure it out alone?” he asked, looking frustrated.
“Because I don’t want to burden you with my problems. Sleeping with you is one thing, but I’m not about to drag you into the process of putting my life back together.”
“So what, you think you’re protecting me by sparing me from your problems?”
She bit her lip. “Well…yeah.”
A short silence fell over the room, and then Luke did something she wasn’t expecting, not in the least.
He burst out laughing.
A light rain began to drizzle as Josh headed for the entrance of the Dancehall. Shrugging raindrops off his jacket, he entered the club and wasn’t surprised to find it empty. It was three in the afternoon, after all. But Josh hadn’t come here for a drink. With a determined lift of his shoulders he made a beeline for the counter.
Vivian had her back turned to him and he took a second to admire the way her long blonde hair fell over her shoulder blades. He loved her hair. Loved the way it felt between his fingers. Hell, he loved everything about her.
“Can I help you?” the man behind the counter asked, cocking his head toward Josh.
Vivian turned around instantly, her eyes widening at the sight of him
“Hi, sweetheart,” he said smoothly.
Her eyes grew wider and she shot a quick glance to her bartender, who discreetly moved to the end of the bar. “What are you doing here?” she asked, sliding off her stool. “I thought you’d be—”
“Gone?” he finished. His confidence grew. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
She just stood there, looking sexy as hell in a pair of snug jeans and a pink T-shirt that stretched over her breasts. Trying to keep his gaze on her face and not that spectacular body, Josh removed his jacket and tossed it on a nearby chair. Then he moved closer, pleased to see the swell of Viv’s chest as she inhaled a sharp breath.
“Where’s the phone?” he asked.
The startled look on her face made him bite back a laugh. “The phone? Do you need to make a call?”
“Nope.” He grinned. “But you do.”
“What?”
“Your daughter is expecting your call, Vivian. I suggest you don’t keep her waiting.”
The confusion in her eyes gave way to alarm. “Tanya? Is she okay?”
“She’s pretty upset, actually.” He offered a casual shrug. “I just got off the phone with her.”
“Oh God, is this about her scholarship?” Without waiting for a reply, Vivian swiveled around and bent over the counter. She turned with a cordless phone in her hands. “Is she at home?” Vivian asked urgently.
“Yep.”
Vivian stared at Josh, wondering what the hell was going on. She wasn’t sure she liked that strange little grin on his face, and she sure as hell didn’t like his out-of-the-blue phone call with her daughter. With shaky fingers, she dialed Tanya’s number and waited.
“Hello?”
“Hi, honey, it’s me. Is everything all right?”
“No, actually it’s not.” Tanya paused. “Why didn’t you tell me about you and Josh Dawson?”
Viv stared at Josh with daggers in her eyes, then managed a steady voice as she replied, “I…didn’t want to upset you.”
“Well, guess what, Mom, I’m upset.”
A snake of guilt slithered up her chest, making it hard to take a breath. “I’m sorry, honey, I—”
“How could you possibly think you’re too old for him?”
Vivian froze. “What?”
“You heard me. Josh called and told me you’d broken things off because you think you’re too old. Because you think I’d be embarrassed to see you two together.”
She looked at Josh again, torn between slapping him for going behind her back and speaking to her daughter, and applauding him for taking control of the situation. “I thought…”
“You thought wrong,” Tanya announced. She sounded seriously annoyed. “I want you to give him a chance, Mom.”
“Did he put you up to this?” She glanced at Josh, her eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he simply offered her a careless shrug.
“No, he didn’t.” Tanya’s tone was firm. “You deserve to be happy, Mom. God knows you worked hard enough all your life to earn that. And if Josh makes you happy, you should see where things go. I’ll be furious with you if you don’t.”
A smiled warmed Vivian’s lips. She’d said those same words to her daughter—I’ll be furious with you if you don’t—when Tanya had hesitated about applying for law school, and she got an odd sense of pride hearing those same words being repeated back to her. She’d underestimated her own kid. She’d thought Tanya would be horrified by the way she’d been carrying on with Josh, and Vivian had to wonder if maybe she’d been using what she believed would be her daughter’s reaction to mask her own insecurities.
God, she felt immature.
Into the phone, she said, “You really wouldn’t think I’m…”
“You’re what?” her daughter cut in. “A wonderful, beautiful woman dating a man who obviously adores her? Come on, Mom, I thought you knew me better than that. I only want the best for you.”
“You’re really an amazing young woman, you know that, Tanya Rose Kendrick?”
“I had a pretty good role model.” Tanya’s sigh rang out from the other end of the line. “Now don’t screw this up, Mother. Like I said, Josh is a hottie. Not only that, but he’s smart, kind and totally into you.”
When Vivian glanced at Josh again she found herself looking at him in a new light. “I love you, honey,” she said into the receiver.
Vivian choked back a laugh as she hung up the phone. Her twenty-four-year-old daughter calling her a child? Well, that was new.
“So?” Josh said. He crossed his arms over his rain-soaked T-shirt, looking expectant.
“She told me not to screw this up.”
“She’s right.”
He stepped closer, planted both hands on her hips and thrust his body against hers. From the end of the counter, Joey the bartender coughed and shuffled away toward the back room. Alone with Josh, Vivian searched his cobalt-blue eyes and asked, “You seriously want to pursue this?”
“Yes.”
She swallowed. “I don’t know if I’ll go back to San Francisco, Josh.”
“Then we’ll just have to do it long-distance.” He grinned. “I hear phone sex is wild.”
“And if it doesn’t work out?”
“Then it doesn’t work out. At least give us a chance.” He tightened his grip on her waist and lowered his head so that his lips were inches from hers. “Will you give us a chance, Vivian?”
Her chest ached, but this time it had nothing to do with fear or guilt or shame. It had everything to do with pure and simple joy. “My daughter will kill me if I say no.”
“Then you better say yes.”
She laughed again. “Okay.”
“Okay what?”
“I’ll give us a chance.”
“Now that’s more like it.” With the grin never leaving his handsome face he dipped his head and kissed her until her knees turned to jelly and her limbs turned to liquid.
Until she felt younger and happier than she had in her entire life.
Luke couldn’t stop the laughter booming out of his chest. He stared at Ellie, wondering how she could possibly think she was protecting him by breaking things off. He didn’t need her protection. He was the bodyguard here. He should be protecting her. Taking care of her. So why wasn’t she giving him the chance to do that?
“What exactly are you scared of, Ellie?” he asked quietly. “Why did you run off after the car accident?”
She looked caught off-guard. “I just told you why.”
“Because you had to leave the ballet company?”
She nodded.
“And because you can’t have children?”
She nodded again.
“Why is that the end of the world?”
Her nostrils flared. “It’s the end of my world, Luke. What will I do if I can’t dance?”
He shrugged. “Teach? Go back to college? You’ve got options, Ellie.”
“And I bet you’re going to tell me I have options about the child issue too, right? Adoption. Surrogacy.” She gave a bitter smile. “Yeah, I know about those options. So did Scott, yet that didn’t stop him from dumping me, or telling me that I was damaged because I couldn’t give him a family.”
“Well, Scott’s an idiot. You’re not damaged,” he said, fighting back anger that she could even believe such a thing.
“So why do I feel so inadequate?” Her voice sounded forlorn.
“Because you’ve been trying to deal with all of it on your own these past six months. If you’d actually let someone in, allowed someone to help you, they would’ve told you that you are the farthest thing from inadequate.”
She bit her lip again. “You think so?”
“I know so. You’ll never be inadequate, baby,” he said softly. He moved closer, lifted one hand to her mouth and brushed his fingers over her lips. “In fact, you’re so much woman, sometimes I don’t think I can handle you.”
She blinked. “Really?”
“Really.” He reached for her hand and squeezed it. Her fingers felt cold so he rubbed them between his.
“But you said wanted to be a father.”
He sighed. “I do. And if you want, we can have a child, Ellie.” She opened her mouth but he cut her off. “Biology is overrated, anyway.”
The tears in her eyes made his heart ache. “You’d be okay with that?”
He stared at her in disbelief for a moment, then dipped his head and crushed his mouth over hers, kissing her deeply. When he pulled back, he said, “Ellie, I love you. I want to be with you. I don’t care if we adopt ten kids or zero kids. I’m happy as long as I’m with you.” He took a breath. “And now that I know what’s gotten you so damn scared, there’s nothing stopping us from being together. Except you.” He met her eyes. “Do you love me, Elenore?”
“You know I do.”
Her entire chest filled with warmth at her earnest words. “Then say it.”
She lifted her hand and swept it over his jaw. “I love you,” she whispered.
He grinned. “Louder.”
“I love you, Lucas.”
“Good.” He dipped his head and planted a light kiss on her lips. “Now let’s go home.”
About the Author
To learn more about Elle please visit www.ellekennedy.com. Send an email to [email protected] or visit her blog, the Sizzling Pens, at http://sizzlingpens.blogspot.com.
Look for these titles by Elle Kennedy
Now Available:
Bad Moon Rising
Coming Soon:
Midnight Encounters
Heat of the Moment
On the night the Cereus blooms, temptation paints a picture impossible to resist.
Night of the Cereus
© 2008 Anya Delvay
Artist’s model Melanie Fletcher likes to keep life simple, and painter Marcus Alejandro practically oozes complications. And sex appeal.
Posing for him, surrounded by the seductive scent of the night-blooming Cereus, Melanie’s self-imposed rules of a lifetime are slowly being undermined. She begins to wonder—would it really hurt to give in to her lust, just this once?
Initially drawn to the dichotomy between Melanie’s reserved exterior and hidden passion, Marcus soon discovers the more he gets from her, the more he wants. Her delicious body isn’t enough. He needs to know her intimately, both inside and out, but getting her to trust him is harder than he ever imagined.
How much can he ask for before she walks away?
Enjoy the following excerpt for Night of the Cereus
“Stay.”
Melanie blinked, the reserve in her eyes deepening, hands sliding from his ass to rest lightly on his hips. Whether to hold on or to push him away, he couldn’t tell. It was in her voice too, mingled with surprise as she lied. “I wasn’t planning on leaving.”
Instead of challenging her, Marcus slid one hand free from her hair, reaching down to follow the line of her arm, capture her fingers and bring them to his lips. “Good,” he kissed the palm of her hand, “I don’t want you to think this will be a quickie.” Her muscles clenched fractionally and Marcus bent to rest his lips on her throat, just below her ear. A frantic pulse beat there, and he touched it with his tongue before murmuring, “I want to explore you, taste you, learn everything I can about you and your body. If that’s too much for you, now is the time to say so, before this goes any farther.”
Then he waited, absorbing her little shivers, soaking in the softness of her breasts and belly and thighs, the sweet scent of her. Cradling, and being cradled by her, suddenly afraid. Had he lost his mind? Why the hell had he given her an excuse to leave?
He wants too much, more than I can give. More than I want to give.
Yet she couldn’t seem to get her body to move, her feet to take the path back to her car. Instead there was a softening sensation deep in her belly, a heightened awareness of his strength, the solid, muscular form pressing her against the wall. Every breath he took caused his chest to rise and slide over her breasts, further inflaming nipples already sensitive to the point of pain.
He was wrong. Leaving hadn’t been on her mind…had it?
“Don’t try to complicate this, Marcus.”
She kept her voice calm, tried to make it cool, and he huffed, a cross between disbeli
ef and a chuckle. Straightening to trail his hand along her arm, then cupping the side of her neck, he searched her eyes, his face tight and amused. “You prefer simple, Melanie? Or controllable?”
“Both.”
Yet even as she said it, she felt the lie. Yes, she usually went for uncomplicated encounters, where she could enjoy the physical and not worry about tomorrow. Chose men willing to take what she was willing to give, who didn’t want or demand more. Already she was past the usual with Marcus. Her control was slipping, questions and desires swirling inside, creating a ferment of feelings she could no longer identify. It was terrifying, enlivening, stimulating beyond any other experience of her life.
Marcus was still watching her, and it took every ounce of determination not to look away, or to show the truth on her face. The corners of his mouth twitched, and he spoke slowly, letting each word sink in.
“I think sometimes complicated and uncontrolled are good.” His hand moved suddenly, pulling at the buttons until her blouse sagged open. Running his finger along the edge of her lacy bra, he continued, “Simple would mean giving in to the impulse to lift your skirt and slide into that hot, wet, pussy, right here and now. Simple would mean fucking you against this wall, then walking you back to your car after we’ve come. Somehow, I don’t think simple will work for me tonight.”
Melanie’s legs trembled as she imagined him lifting her, his hard length sliding in, hands clutching her ass. God, she wanted that so bad. His words, the look in his eyes, heightened the sensation of his body against hers, brought her closer to the edge. The world narrowed, their surroundings disappeared, leaving only the two of them. This was desire, raw and more powerful than she thought possible.
“Just do it, Marcus.” There was no pretence left in her, only desire. Bringing a leg up behind his, she signalled her need with a tilt of her hips. “Don’t think so much, just do it.”
“I can’t.” The roughness in his voice startled her, even as the instinctive forward thrust of his hips made her moan. “I want more.”
