by Sandra Brown
“You don’t drink coffee? Are you an American?”
She had been mortified that she couldn’t make him coffee, but she knew it was all right because he was teasing. “I’m sorry,” she said again.
“No need to apologize,” he said simply. “I’ll have another glass of tea.”
While Leigh cleared off the table, Chad fed surreptitious spoonfuls of melted ice cream to Sarah, who was again sitting on his lap. Leigh caught him red-handed.
“Chad, are you giving her ice cream?” she demanded, her fists planted firmly against her hips.
“Sure, she loves it,” he said with an innocent, boyish grin.
“I can barely carry her now, she’s so fat. The last thing she needs is ice cream.”
Chad lifted his head and studied Leigh for a moment, raking his eyes up and down her body. “I’d say both of you could use some extra flesh.”
She licked her lips nervously and tried to make a joke out of his remark. “I worked so hard trying to trim down and firm up after Sarah was born.” What was wrong with her voice?
“You did a good job.” His eyes dropped significantly to her breasts, and as though he had actually touched them, they tingled with response. Leigh was painfully aware of her nipples tautening and straining inside the sheer cups of her brassiere. She could have kissed Sarah for choosing that moment to start crying fussily.
“She’s sleepy,” Leigh said, lifting the infant out of Chad’s arms and holding the small body in front of her like a shield. “I think I’ll put her down for the night.”
“Can I help?” He had stood when she took Sarah. Now he was bending over them both, stroking the baby’s back but looking at Leigh as though he were touching her, not Sarah.
“N… no. Make yourself at home. I’ll be back in a minute. She usually goes right to sleep.”
Leigh virtually ran from the room. It took several restorative breaths for her to calm down once she had reached the bedroom she shared with Sarah. She wasn’t quite ready to move the baby out of that room and into the smaller second bedroom. There was something comforting in hearing another’s breathing, even the infant’s, beside her as she slept.
She tried not to transmit her nervousness as she prepared Sarah for bed. Her caution turned out to be unnecessary, for as she turned Sarah over onto her stomach, the baby assumed her bottom-in-the-air sleeping position and didn’t even require the usual several minutes of back-patting. She was instantly asleep.
Chad was pacing like a sentry when Leigh came back into the living room. “It was so quiet in there, I thought something was wrong.”
“No,” Leigh said. “She’s a very cooperative baby.”
“That means she’s happy. You’re a good mother; you’ve given her a sense of security.”
“I hope so,” she said earnestly. “I worry about her growing up without a” She broke off her sentence when she realized what she had been about to say and became intent on straightening an already straight picture on the wall.
“A daddy?”
Leigh turned around. “Yes.”
Chad stepped closer to her. She wanted to back away from the indefinable threat he posed, but her feet refused to move.
“Do I take that to mean that you aren’t currently involved with someone?” he asked softly.
The tenuous protection of Sarah’s small body between them had been removed. Chad’s presence filled the room with a masculine aura that had never been there before, engulfing Leigh. She could see it, feel it, smell it.
“Yes,” she answered his question after a considerable pause.
“Yes you are involved or yes you aren’t?”
“Yes, I aren’t… I’m not.” She shook her head in confusion.
“Greg?” he questioned softly. “Is he the reason why you’re still alone?”
She avoided his probing eyes. God, they were blue and deep and… Through the deep V in his shirt, the hair on his chest shone in the soft lighting of the lamp. “No. I can’t divorce myself from living because I lost a husband.”
“Is there another reason?”
She looked up at him then and laughed. “Well, frankly, a heavily pregnant widow isn’t exactly what every man dreams of.”
He joined her laughter, tilting his head back. The skin on his throat stretched taut over the corded muscles. It looked warm, vibrant. Smiling, he looked down at her again. “Did you have any problems after I took you to the hospital?”
“No.”
“You’re fine? Everything back to normal?”
She should have been embarrassed discussing such personal things with him, but strangely she wasn’t. “Yes, I got a clean bill of health from the doctor on my last visit.”
He sighed with relief. “God, the hours I agonized over what I might have done to you.”
“Chad.” She stretched her hand toward his arm, thought better of touching him, and drew it back. “Where were you afterward? I tried to look you up. You weren’t listed in the telephone directory.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you try to look me up?”
“I wanted to pay you for helping me. I—” She was stunned into silence by the scowl that quickly clouded his handsome features.
“I wouldn’t have taken any money from you, Leigh.” His breath hissed through his teeth as he looked away from her. “Damn,” he cursed softly, then impaled her again with his eyes. “Did you think I expected you to pay me?”
“I meant no offense, Chad. I only wanted you to know how much I appreciated…” Her bottom lip began to tremble. “I might have died without you. Sarah might have—”
“Shhhh,” he said, stepping forward to enfold her in his strong arms. She went into his embrace naturally. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Seems like all I’ve done since I got here is make you two women cry.” It was an attempt at humor and it worked. She laughed against his shirt front. He smelled good. Expensive and elusive.
He raised her chin with his finger until she was looking up into those captivating eyes. “Do you remember what happened in your hospital room before I left?”
She swallowed. “You brought me flowers.”
“What else?” She tried to lower her head, but he wouldn’t let her. “What else?”
“You kissed me.”
He nodded slowly. “I didn’t know if you remembered.” His hand smoothed over her jaw to frame her face. “Were you too drugged to fight me off or didn’t you mind my kissing you?”
She lowered her eyes shyly. “A combination of both, I guess.”
She felt the rumbling chuckle in his chest. “Then you wouldn’t mind if I kissed you again?” When she didn’t look at him, he said, “Leigh?”
She shook her head.
His breath was warm against her lips before she felt the gentle pressure of his mouth. His lips moved over hers in the way she remembered—slow, tender, sweet. His arms drew her tighter for a moment, then relaxed so his hands could enjoy the smooth expanse of her back.
She knew the instant his lips parted. The teeth that contributed to his gorgeous smile were against her lips, nipping them gently. Like a flower, they opened under that delightful insistence. For ponderous heartbeats their mouths remained open to each other, still, exchanging no more than breath. Waiting, waiting.
Then his tongue pressed past her lips and teeth to claim the inside of her mouth, rubbing against her own tongue with an intimacy that made her limbs go weak. Her hands went to his waist, clutching at him in hopes of maintaining a foothold on the world.
She was infused with life as her body surged toward his. Her breasts swelled and hardened against the muscular wall of his chest, and as he moved against them slightly, she heard the satisfied growl deep in his throat. His hands roamed her back, massaging, stroking, slipping around to her sides to tease along her ribs. Now one slid possessively past her waist to settle on the small of her back. With infinite care, he pressed her tightly against him.
The moment
ary shock at feeling his arousal was smothered by the instinctive need to know more of it. As she curved up against him what modicum of control had reined his passions disintegrated. His kiss became a fervent exploration. He learned her mouth thoroughly with his curious tongue, his tasting lips, his sampling teeth.
He kissed with thrusting pressure and tentative sips. He was bold. He was shy. At once avid, then tender. Demanding, then supplicant. As he probed her mouth, Leigh felt delicious, erotic sensations spread through her body, and her answering kiss was full of yearning.
Oxygen-starved, they pulled apart. He laid his fevered cheek against hers. Her arms had long since wound around his back. Their wheezing breaths echoed through the quiet room.
Slowly he stepped away from her and brushed back a strand of her hair. Leaning forward, he dropped a chaste kiss on her lips. “Good night, Leigh. I’ll be in touch.” As an afterthought at the door, he added, “Oh, and thanks for supper.”
Chapter Three
Leigh lay in bed the next morning long after the alarm had gone off. Not that she had needed it to awaken her. She hadn’t slept well and dawn was a welcome relief from the tossing and turning that had plagued her through the night.
She had watched dumbstruck as Chad had picked up his navy blue blazer, shrugged into it, and left by the front door. As he had turned to deliver his farewell line, he had winked at her affectionately. For several moments she had stared at the door, not believing what had happened, not believing the very existence of Chad Dillon.
What kind of man was he? On first sight, she had pegged him dirty and possibly dangerous. His calm acceptance of her predicament and the sensitive manner in which he’d helped her through it had changed her mind. By the time he had left her in the hospital, she had regarded him as a diamond in the rough. Yet last night he had shown her still other facets of himself. His clothes bespoke elegance and sophistication, his manner breeding and education, not to mention charm. And his kiss…
He intrigued her and she admitted it. She still didn’t know exactly what he did for a living, where he lived. For all practical purposes, he was still the stranger who had spoken to her through her car window.
Yet she had returned his kiss with an ardor she hadn’t known she possessed. She had never considered herself a sensual being. She and Greg had enjoyed a healthy, if not often hurried, sex life, but she didn’t remember ever feeling quite as transported as she had last night when Chad had kissed her. Sharing Greg’s bed had been only an extension of the love she had for him. She strongly suspected that intimacy with Chad would take on a dimension she couldn’t even guess at. It would be an event unto itself.
Long after he had left, she experienced pangs of arousal that were unknown to her, a sinking weightiness in the pit of her stomach, a tingling in her breasts, a fluttering in her throat.
As she got into bed, she was aware of the softness of the sheets against her calves, her thighs. The scent of Chad’s woodsy cologne still clung faintly to her hair. Each time she moved, the friction of her nightgown against her breasts forced her to focus on their permanent agitation. She tried to still her restlessness by hugging her pillow to her breasts, but was dissatisfied by its yielding softness. Not at all like the hard impregnability of Chad’s chest.
She was acutely aware of each sound, sight, touch, and smell around her. Her tongue sought delicious reminders of Chad’s taste by frequently licking her kiss-swollen lips. It was as though her imprisoned senses had been freed to indulge themselves in an orgy of new and rare stimuli. Her mind wallowed in hedonistic fantasies.
She wanted a man.
Her face scarlet with shame and guilt, she buried it in the pillow she held to her chest. How long had it been? Well over a year. As embarrassing as it was for a new mother to be thinking of such things, Leigh knew that she wanted a man’s weight beside her, inside her.
No, not “a man.” She wanted Chad.
And even now, in the light of morning, the allure hadn’t worn off. “This is stupid, ridiculous,” Leigh chided herself as she flung back the covers and stepped out of the bed. “Especially for a femme fatale who doesn’t even own a coffee pot.” She pulled on a thick velour robe. During the night a classic Norther had blown in.
Sarah was just beginning to stir as Leigh leaned over the crib. “Good morning, sweetheart,” she said, turning the baby over onto her back. “I’ll get you a dry diaper and then you can eat breakfast,” Leigh cooed as she rid Sarah of her sodden diaper.
“We’ll probably never see him again, Sarah,” she told her baby. “He only came by to satisfy his curiosity that we were all right.” She pinned the new diaper on and carried Sarah into the kitchen.
“So what if he kissed your mother? He kissed like a professional. No telling how many women he practiced on to perfect that technique. He probably had a date broken at the last minute and had nothing better to do than to come see us. What do you think?”
Sarah sputtered her gastronomic delight over the cereal and peaches being spooned into her mouth.
“He’s really very attractive. Tall, lean, and… uh… hard. Sarah, when he held me against him, I wanted to dissolve. But he’s not brutal,” she clarified quickly, wiping the baby’s mouth with a damp paper towel. “I don’t want you to get that impression. He’s masterful but gentle. His mouth is… and his hands… I wonder what they feel like when… but then I know because he touched me when you were born. But that was different. It wasn’t like making…
“I can’t imagine why I’m thinking about… When you get older, you’ll understand, Sarah.”
Chad remained the topic of conversation over breakfast, but Sarah didn’t seem to mind. She splashed through her bath, listening to her mother’s surmises about him. But even when they were dressed and bundled and leaving the house, the subject of Chad Dillon hadn’t been completely exhausted.
* * *
“I want them to look like they’re suspended in air, not as though they’re hanging from the ceiling,” Leigh said to the crew of maintenance workers clustered around her. “Understand? Santa’s reindeer are supposed to fly. So let them hang, say,” she glanced up at the reflecting ceiling of the mall, “uh… say, two and a half feet from the ceiling. Minimum. That filament is guaranteed not to break.”
“What if it does and a giant reindeer falls on an unsuspecting shopper?”
The voice that spoke dangerously close to her ear was low and deep and instantly recognizable. She whirled around to see Chad standing behind her. “Hi,” he grinned. “I’ll sue if Rudolph falls on me while I’m Christmas shopping.”
“He wouldn’t hurt you,” she quipped. “He’s papier mâché and hollow.”
“So am I. Hollow I mean. How about lunch?”
He was a cowboy again. Only this time the jeans, though as tight as before, were clean and new. The blue plaid Western-cut shirt was partially covered by a shearling vest, and he was holding a black felt Stetson in his hand. Leigh couldn’t resist looking at his feet. The dusty cracked boots had been replaced by a pair of black lizard ones in perfect condition.
“Hey, Chad, how’s things?”
Leigh looked on open-mouthed and confused when several of the workmen spoke to him.
“Fine, George, Burt. Say, Hal. You?”
“Fair to middlin’. Been on any interesting jobs lately?”
Chad cast a furtive glance at Leigh. “No. Nothing special.”
“I heard about the one in”
“George, I’m here to take my favorite lady to lunch. I don’t intend to waste her time or mine jawing with you.”
All the men laughed and eyed Leigh speculatively. Previously they had seen her only as a competent professional, but now, she realized, they were viewing her as a woman. She felt her cheeks grow warm as Chad draped an arm around her shoulders. Trying to regain control, she consulted her watch. “I… I guess now is a good time for lunch,” she said. “Meet back here in… let’s say one hour.”
“Let’s say two hours,”
Chad amended.
This brought on more laughter, knowing looks, and conspiratorial winks. Mercifully Chad turned Leigh away. “Where is your office?”
“By Sakowitz.”
“You’ll need your coat. It’s cold out there.”
“We don’t have to leave the mall. There’s a good salad bar in”
“That’s rabbit food. I’m hungrier than that. Besides, I promised Sarah I was going to fatten you up.” He didn’t permit Leigh to protest, but asked, “Where is Sarah, by the way?”
“A lady who lives near us keeps the children of working mothers in her home. Sarah stays with her on days when I have to work several hours at a stretch.”
“Oh, by the way,” he said, taking a slip of paper from his vest pocket. “Here is my telephone number. It’s unlisted because I’m out of town quite a bit. Why should I clutter up the phone book?” he asked, smiling.
“Thank you,” she said, wondering if and when she’d ever have occasion to call him.
“Feel free to use it whenever you want.” He grinned engagingly.
They wended their way among the shoppers—harried, hurried, or indifferent—to the small office the mall’s managers had provided for her use. It was located between the men’s and ladies’ restrooms and the pay telephones. When Leigh had retrieved her coat and purse, they started for one of the exits.
The truck was as cluttered and dirty as before and reluctant to start in the cold weather, but Chad pumped it to life and drove it out of the parking lot. He seemed to have already decided where they were going and didn’t consult Leigh.
“Chad, are you from Midland? How did George and the others know you?”
“I was born here and went to the Midland public schools all twelve grades before going to Tech. Most old-timers know me and my folks.”
She digested that piece of information, then asked, “Do you still live here?”
“Yes, but I travel a lot.”
“On jobs?”
He negotiated a left turn before he answered laconically, “Yes.”
She cleared her throat. “Just what do you do? George asked you about a job. Do you always work on airplanes?” She knew there were several charter services out of Midland. Many oil tycoons had their own planes.