The Golden Chance

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  “I know. The problem is you're rushing things.”

  She went still. “You don't like the way I do it? I thought you did.”

  He was exasperated by the uncertainty in her voice. “I go crazy and you know it. But as much as I like it, I think you need to give yourself more time.” He guided her fingers to the snap of her jeans.

  “More time?” She sounded confused. “But we must be doing it right. I've never felt like this with anyone else.”

  “Good.” He kissed her forehead and then the tip of her nose and his hand rested on her thigh. “Now, if you'll just take it a little more slowly, you'll feel even better. Don't worry,” he added, seeing the expression of concern on her face. “It's not going anywhere.”

  “You're laughing at me,” she said with a resigned groan.

  “Never.” He urged her fingers to undo the snap of her jeans.

  Slowly and then with increasing speed, she stripped off her jeans. Nick had to close his eyes and think of flag and country for a moment when he saw the dark triangle of hair showing through the sheer fabric of her panties. When he had control of himself again he opened his eyes and saw Phila watching him closely.

  “Are you all right?” she asked. She paused in the act of unbuttoning her shirt.

  Nick realized she was not wearing a bra. “If I were any better I'd go out of my mind.”

  She looked relieved and quickly finished undoing the last buttons of her shirt. She let the ends of the garment hang free. The soft curves of her breasts were barely visible, half-hidden in tantalizing shadow. “Then can we do it now? Please? Before this feeling goes away?”

  “The feeling isn't going away. I told you that. Just give yourself a chance to experience it.”

  “That's what I'm trying to do,” she replied impatiently. She grabbed his zipper again.

  “No, not yet. Here.” He held out his hand.

  She stared down at his palm, mystified. “What am I supposed to do with it?”

  “Use it any way you want,” he instructed softly. “Show me what you need and how you like it. Teach me how to touch you.”

  Her head came up so swiftly she nearly cracked his chin. “You want me to show you how to touch me? Don't you want to get inside me?”

  “Eventually,” he promised through his teeth. “We'll definitely get to that part eventually. But let's try a little foreplay first.”

  “Oh. Foreplay.” She leaned against him, nibbling his throat. “Okay. Do it.”

  “No, sweetheart, you're going to do it. You're the teacher, remember?”

  She was quiet for a moment, and Nick began to worry. Then she gripped his hand and pulled his fingers toward her breasts. She shivered as she moved his palm over her nipples, and Nick experienced a few shudders of his own as he felt her harden beneath his touch.

  “Look at you,” he whispered, awed by her response. “Hard as little pebbles. Just the right size for my hand.”

  Phila made a small sound of pleasure and pushed her breast more tightly into his cupped palm. Nick carefully caught the nipple between thumb and forefinger and tugged gently.

  “Nick.”

  “Feel good?”

  “It feels strange.” Eagerly she adjusted herself so that she was sitting on his lap. “Do the other one.”

  He obeyed, kissing the nape of her neck as he gently prodded her other nipple erect. She felt tight and full.

  “I'm ready,” she informed him, clutching at him. “Let's do it now.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Damn it, Nick…”

  “You haven't taught me all I want to learn.”

  “Now what?” she demanded.

  “I don't know. Show me.”

  She moved on his legs. He felt the lush curve of her bare thigh pushing against his trapped manhood and thought he'd lose it all inside his jeans. He counted stars and stripes for a minute until he'd regained a portion of his control.

  “Nick, please, I feel so hot. I want to do it.”

  He let his fingers curl invitingly in her palm. When he made no further move Phila grabbed his hand and plunged it down between her legs.

  “There. Do something,” she ordered.

  “Yes, ma'am.”

  Nick allowed his fingertips to trace light designs over the silky material of her underwear. The soft stuff quickly grew damp under his touch. He could feel her growing plump and soft.

  “You get wet so fast for me, baby. Know what that does to me?”

  “Do that again,” Phila said, moving against his hand with sudden urgency.

  “Do what again?”

  “Touch me like that.” She grabbed his hand, held him steady and then slid along the length of his finger. “Yes, like that. Harder. No, here.” She edged aside the elastic leg band of her panties and maneuvered his hand inside.

  Nick sucked in his breath almost painfully as the full impact of her moist, welcoming warmth nearly overwhelmed him. “Show me exactly how you want it.”

  Phila was beyond protesting the torment. She fumbled with his hand, getting him thoroughly wet in the process. Nick felt so tight and hot he had to grit his teeth to maintain any kind of control.

  He started to search out the little bud of feminine sensation but held off until she finally managed to find it for him. She cried out when he stroked her, cried out and clung to him with all her might, her face buried against his chest.

  Then she moved against his finger with a woman's instinct.

  “Oh, Nick, that feels so good.”

  “I told you it wasn't going anywhere. Just relax and enjoy.”

  Some of the frantic quality seemed to evaporate from her. A sexy, dreamy expression crossed her vivid features. She began to guide him with more certainty. Her tiny little sounds of increasing pleasure were muffled against his chest.

  Nick was rigid with his own desire but he refused to ruin everything at this point by losing control. Nothing was more important in that moment than having Phila learn her first taste of satisfaction at his hands.

  She shifted position after a few minutes, kneeling astride him and leaning over him. Then she started to move more and more aggressively against his finger. Her head tipped back as the excitement flowed through her.

  Nick allowed one finger to slip slowly inside her slick, tight channel. Phila's reaction was immediate. She went over the edge. She called out his name in a muffled shout. Her body went taut with sexual tension. Then she was convulsing gently around his fingers, clutching him fiercely.

  For a long, wondrous moment she clung to him as her climax rippled through her. Nick knew he was more thrilled than she could ever be. He had never seen anything so glorious as Philadelphia Fox in the full flower of her womanly passion.

  Slowly, slowly, she crumpled against him until she was sitting once more on his thighs. Her head rested against his chest and her whole body was filled with a gentle languor that was as sensual in its own way as her climax had been. Nick stroked her slowly, seeking the little aftershocks.

  When his fingers drifted over the small button that was the chief focus of her recent pleasure, she flinched and mumbled a soft protest.

  “Sensitive?” he asked.

  “Um hmmm.” She didn't open her eyes.

  He grinned but he did not relax. He was still iron hard with his own need. He wanted to bury himself in her but he was reluctant to break the magic spell.

  “Nick?” Her voice was drowsy.

  “Yeah?”

  “That was incredible. I've never felt anything like it. Fantastic. Thank you.”

  “You're fantastic. And don't thank me. You did it all by yourself.”

  She moved her head in a small negative gesture against his shoulder. “No, it was you.”

  “Let's not argue about it.” He opened his eyes and watched a gull soaring out over the sea. “The last thing I want to do right now is argue about anything.”

  “Okay.” She shifted into a more comfortable position.

  Chagrined, Nick rea
lized she was about to go to sleep. “Phila?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You know that package I told you about? The one I bought at the pharmacy in town?”

  Her eyes flew open. She looked up at him from under her lashes. “What about it?”

  “Check my back pocket.”

  Shock filled her eyes. “Oh, Nick, I forgot about you. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean…”

  “It's all right.” He smiled heroically. “I understand. But now that you've remembered me do you suppose we might try it your way again?”

  She giggled, reaching around behind him to withdraw the small package from his jeans pocket. She handed it to him. “Here you go.”

  He made no move to take the package from her hand. Instead, he looked at her. “You do it.”

  She blinked, a new gleam of interest in her eyes. “You want me to put it on you?”

  “Apparently I'm a sucker for an aggressive, take-charge female.”

  A long while later Phila finally roused herself sufficiently to pay attention to her surroundings again. She was sitting across Nick's thighs and he had his eyes closed. He was still wearing his jeans but they were unfastened and unzipped. He looked wicked and sexy.

  “Nick? We'd better get dressed. Anyone could come down here.”

  “Not likely. I checked before I came looking for you. Dad's gone into town with Tec, Eleanor's in her greenhouse and Hilary's working. Darren's having lunch with some of his local campaign staff. Vicky and Jordan have already been here and left. Trust me, we're safe.”

  “You're so thorough,” she said, half in mockery and half in genuine respect for the care he'd taken. Leave it to Nick to orchestrate things behind the scenes so that nothing went wrong with a supposedly spontaneous sexual encounter. “You think you're so clever, don't you?”

  Nick's eyes narrowed, but still glittered with amusement. “No, I just like things to work out the way I want them to work out. Which reminds me.”

  “About what?” She reached for her shirt which had somehow been abandoned, and slipped it on.

  “We've done this twice now. That definitely takes our association out of the one-night-stand category.”

  She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, wondering what he had up his sleeve now. “So?”

  “So, I think it's time we agreed we're having an affair, don't you? Otherwise, what are we going to call this relationship of ours?”

  Phila was feeling too pleasantly relaxed to argue. “Call it whatever you want,” she said with an air of grand indifference.

  “Fine. I'm calling it an affair. A full-time, monogamous, one-on-one affair.”

  Phila frowned in warning. “Just don't get the idea you can control me with sex.”

  “I wouldn't think of it.”

  “One of these days, Nick, I'm going to wipe that smug grin off your face.”

  “Why? You're the one who put it there in the first place.”

  Reed was at the wheel of the Mercedes with Tec Sherman sitting beside him as they drove back from town, when he spotted Nick and Phila. He saw the two figures in the distance as they came up the path from the cove and started toward the Gilmarten place. He knew from the casually possessive way his son's arm rested on Phila's shoulders that the pair had probably just made love down on the beach.

  “That little gal's damn sure caught Nick's attention, hasn't she, sir?” Tec observed.

  “That she has.”

  “Think it's serious?”

  “I don't know. What do you think?” Reed knew Nick never did anything without a reason. That reason was not always fathomable to others, but it always existed. Had he truly fallen for little Miss Philadelphia Fox, or was he engineering some scheme to get back the shares?

  “I don't know either, sir. Nick can be tough to figure out at times. But I'll tell you one thing. I've never seen him act like this around a female. It's like he's not real sure what to make of her, but he damn sure knows he can't let her out of his sight.”

  What game are you playing, Nick? Reed asked himself silently. “I know what you mean, Tec.”

  “Good havin' him back, ain't it, sir?”

  Goddamn right. “About time he remembered he's got family.”

  The Mercedes came abreast of Nick and Phila a few moments later. Reed saw the faint flush in Phila's cheeks and the lazy, satiated look in his son's eyes. For a second he knew a flash of pure male envy. In the old days he and Nora had sneaked off to that cove a time or two and gone at it like a couple of mink.

  “You two been for a walk on the beach?” Reed asked, slowing the car to a halt.

  “Yeah.” Nick put one hand on the frame of the windshield and leaned down. “Tec, I want to do some shooting with Phila this week.”

  “Sure thing, sir. Got a preference?”

  “A .38, I think. Some nitwit sold her a spiffy little 9-mm automatic even though she's never used a handgun in her life. She's never even fired the damn thing.”

  “An automatic? Bad choice. Too complicated for a beginner,” Tec said. “Unless she wants to put in a lot of work gettin' used to it.”

  “I think we can safely assume she's not going to become a handgun enthusiast. But I want her to be able to use something, so I think we'll educate her with a revolver.”

  “No problem.”

  “Wait a second,” Phila interrupted. “I don't recall saying I wanted to practice shooting a gun.”

  Reed frowned at her. “Nick's right. An automatic is a poor choice for a novice. Too fancy. Takes practice to master. A revolver is simpler and easier to use in an emergency. Just point it and pull the trigger.”

  “But I…”

  Reed turned to his son. “Make it the morning after tomorrow, and I'll join you. I've got a game tomorrow or I'd say make it then.”

  Nick stepped back from the car. “All right,” he said. “We'll make it the day after tomorrow.”

  “Don't forget Eleanor's dinner party tomorrow night,” Reed added as he put his foot down on the accelerator.

  Ten minutes later Reed walked into the house and went in search of Hilary. He found her in the study that had once been his personal domain. As he walked into the room he realized that through the wide windows a person could see a portion of the cliff road. He wondered if Hilary had been watching Nick and Phila return from the beach.

  “Hello, Reed.” Hilary looked up from the file she was examining. She leaned back in her chair and smiled politely. “Did you want something?”

  “Just wanted to let you know I've got a game at three o'clock.”

  “All right. I'll tell the housekeeper to plan dinner accordingly. Will Nick be eating with us tonight?”

  “No, I don't think so.” Reed looked at the beautiful, perfectly groomed woman who was his wife. Every hair was in place. Her makeup was flawless. She was the picture of elegant femininity.

  Then he thought about Phila looking tousled and flushed, slightly embarrassed and happy. He could not imagine Hilary ever looking that way. He was pretty sure Nick wouldn't be able to imagine her looking that way, either.

  His son had definitely missed out on something important during his disastrous marriage, something he appeared to be finding with Phila Fox.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Eleanor presided over dinner the following evening with the elegant ease of one who has spent a lifetime cultivating the fine art of formal entertaining.

  Phila eyed the array of cutlery and glassware in front of her and felt like a guerrilla heading into combat. She would not screw up, she vowed silently. She was a well-educated human being who, although she had not been raised amid upper-class surroundings, had learned somewhere along the line how to tell a seafood fork from a salad fork. She would not screw up.

  She was not about to let Eleanor intimidate her, especially since she had a sneaking suspicion that that had been the purpose of the dinner party. Eleanor sat at the far end of the impossibly long table smiling vaguely out over a sea of Wedgwood creamware, Sheffield silver pl
ate and Waterford crystal, and Phila just knew what she was thinking. Eleanor was taking the opportunity to demonstrate how out of place Crissie had been here and, by extension, how out of place Phila herself was.

  Phila was very glad that Crissie had told her about the Wedgwood and the Sheffield and the Waterford. It made it easier to act casually when the stuff was plunked down in front of her. I just pretend it's all plastic, Crissie had said.

  “I understand you're a social worker, dear,” Eleanor said as she delicately separated a slice of fish from the halibut steak on her plate. “How did you meet Crissie?”

  “I met her when I was sent to a foster home after my grandmother died.”

  “Your grandmother? Then you weren't an abandoned child?”

  “You mean like Crissie?” Phila smiled brilliantly as she saw Eleanor's eyes flicker. “No, I was far more fortunate. My parents cared about me, but they were both killed when I was very young. My father's mother took me in and raised me until I was thirteen.”

  Reed looked up from his fish, his expression curious. “How did your folks die?”

  “In a helicopter crash in South America. The 'copter was shot down.”

  “Shot down! What in blue blazes were they doing in South America?” Reed demanded, ignoring Eleanor's frown over the harsh language.

  “They were involved in helping Indians who were being systematically hunted and shot by their own government. The local government always claimed it was Communist rebels who shot down the 'copter, but everyone knew it was the government's own forces that did it. It was an open secret.”

  Nick's eyes narrowed. “Did your parents do that kind of thing routinely?”

  “You mean helping people like those Indians?” Phila picked up her water glass, aware of the diamond shapes of the cut crystal beneath her fingertips. “Oh, yes. They were devoted to doing what they could to help those less fortunate than themselves. They traveled all over the world on behalf of an organization called Freedom for the Future Foundation. Have you heard of it?”

  Reed groaned aloud, and Nick's brows rose in amusement. Darren shook his head, and Victoria sighed. Hilary winced, and Eleanor made a tut-tutting sound and quickly passed a plate of asparagus.