And she was drunk with him. Drunk with the feel of his hard angles and planes pressed the length of her body. Drunk with his soul-devouring kiss.
Drunk with her need for him.
He picked her up by the waist and deposited her on the table, whispering against the corner of her mouth, "Am I getting it right?"
No! Yes!
She clung to a sanity fast slipping away beneath the sweep of his thumbs across her abdomen.
"Roman, wait," she breathed even as her legs spread to accommodate him.
He stood between her thighs and smiled down at her. "Did I start on the wrong end?"
"No," she exhaled before catching herself. "I mean--"
"Maybe you'd have preferred I start with your hungry-for-attention breasts?" He palmed her through the sateen fabric, making her ache all the more for him.
"I thought you found my breasts lacking," she countered in an attempt to cool his ardor…and hers. Anything to get him to stop so she could think things out.
"I never called your breasts lacking." He nudged aside a lapel and fit his lips around one straining peak, his breath hot against her cool skin.
She gasped, "When I told you I did your laundry, you asked if I wanted a medal or a chest to pin it on."
He chuckled against her nipple and nipped her playfully before raising his face to hers. "That was a foolish thing for me to say."
She was only vaguely aware of his hand at her waist loosening the tie that held the front of her robe together. The cool, pre-dawn air invading the house shivered across her bared skin, while his palm cupped her breast in a fiery caress.
He gazed down at her through passion-drugged eyes. "The truth is, Princess, you're a perfect fit."
He pressed her down on the table, his mouth replacing his hand on her breast, her stomach…between her legs. She should fight him off. But his artful tongue wreaked havoc with her resistance. Besides, it wasn't the sex that was the problem.
The problem was… The problem was…
Oh hell, who could think about problems with such a delicious heat rippling through her?
Warning tapped against her skull. But who could listen to silly noises in her head when an artful lover played a rhapsody between your thighs?
But the warning was persistent. It scratched at her ears almost as though it came from outside her.
Nearing the optimum moment of no return, she heard the whimper. Faint but plaintive enough to reach beyond her body and touch her soul.
Tess levered herself onto her elbows, canted her head toward the door, and listened. There it was again, scratching.
She grabbed Roman by the hair and hauled his head up.
"What?" he gasped.
"There's something at the door."
"Not into exhibitionism?" he teased, wagging his eyebrows at her.
She pushed him back, sat up, and demanded, "Listen."
"Probably just a branch," he murmured, nuzzling her throat.
"At the door on the porch?" she insisted, swatting him away and scrambling off the table.
"Tess, wait," he called after her. "It could be a skunk."
Too late. She already had the door open.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"It's a dog," she said, dropping to her knees beside the German shepherd belly down on Roman's front porch. "And he's hurt."
Roman peeked over Tess' shoulder.
"Call the animal ER," she commanded, hovering over the animal.
Roman took a stiff step toward the wall phone.
"And turn on the porch light," she commanded.
Roman turned, flicked on the light, and glanced again over Tess' shoulder. Her hands stroked the big shepherd, his sides puffing in and out with shallow breaths.
No, not stroked, examined. The woman he'd called a pampered princess knelt bare-knee on his damp porch, probing for injuries on an animal big enough to eat her face off. He opened his mouth to warn her; but the dog seemed relaxed beneath her gentle hands and soft, soothing tone. His baby brother had that kind of knack with animals. His mother had it with children. His sister had it with both. He'd never considered Tess had an ounce of empathy for either.
Though, there had been that one time a couple kids came to The Castle selling candy bars for a school project. He and each member of the crew had bought a bar from each kid. Tess had bought ten…from each kid. Twenty candy bars at a buck a pop.
He'd have bet she'd have chased them off with her broom, or invited them inside and popped them into the oven Hansel and Gretel style, not sent them skipping off with empty candy boxes and stuffed money pouches. And she'd smiled after them, amused by their excitement.
"Dog emergency room," Tess prompted over her shoulder.
Roman jerked into motion but, some of his blood having finally located his brain, he stopped halfway to the phone. "We don't have an animal emergency room."
Tess raised her head and peered blankly at him. "What do you people do if you have an animal emergency after hours?"
"Call the after-hours number for the Veterinary Clinic," he said, heading to the phone.
Since when had he stopped being the level-headed one? Since when had anyone had to order him around in an emergency he quizzed himself as he looked up the after-hours number for the animal clinic? He'd always been the decisive one, he reasoned as he dialed the number. The calm and collected big brother. The "Family Patriarch in Training" as his sister had often teased him. Yet, Tess had been as take charge and as level-headed as he'd ever been in the middle of an emergency.
The veterinarian's sleep thick voice answered on the third ring. Fifteen minutes later, dressed and the dog laid out on his truck's front seat, they pulled into the parking lot of the Pine Mountain Animal Clinic. Dr. DeBaker had already arrived and had the clinic unlocked and lights on. He met Roman at the passenger side door of the truck as he opened it.
"He reacts when I touched his hip," Tess said from the floor where she'd crouched the entire trip, soothing the dog and keeping him from sliding around. Tess, whom he'd have bet his last dollar, would have been the last person to scuff up her knees over a stray dog.
The two men carried the dog into the clinic on the makeshift litter Roman had cut from a piece of plywood, as Tess explained how they'd found the dog on "our porch."
Our porch. They were in the middle of an emergency and he was noticing things like Tess calling his porch ours. Noticing it and liking it.
"We think he was hit by a car," Tess elaborated as the vet palpated the dog's abdomen.
"There were skid marks in front of the house," Roman added.
The dog whimpered. She stroked his head, her tone immediately soothing. Tess Abbot gone all motherly was about the last thing he expected to ever see.
She swiped a tear from her eye. "How could anyone hit this beautiful animal then just drive away?"
A man had to love a woman who wept for a dog.
Love? Did he love Tess Abbot?
#
The vet ordered them out of the exam room while he took X-rays. Tess used the time to call the phone number she'd gotten off the dog's tags and found a frantic owner who'd been searching most of the night for her dog.
"The owner's on her way," Tess informed Roman when she hung up the phone in the vet's reception area.
"You're really good in an emergency," he said.
"I told you I could take care of myself."
"This is beyond taking care of yourself."
Was he going to call what she did mothering? Her nerves were too frazzled and her mind too uncertain yet to deal with that issue. Hell, she wasn't even ready to call what was going on between them a relationship.
"It was pretty brave of you to take on an injured dog." Roman said.
Brave was a better topic to deal with…even if she was not brave enough to confess that she'd seen soul mate in his eyes the first time they'd met face-to-face. She hugged her arms across her stomach.
"You look cold," he said, draping his jacket over her
shoulders. He stood there a moment, the lapels of the jacket caught in his fingers, looking at her.
Silently, she begged him not to push for more. Not now. Not at this moment. If he pushed now, she'd crumble. She'd collapse into his arms and vow to make herself into everything he wanted. And later, when she was thinking clearly again, she would resent him for that decision. She was a woman who had no intention of putting her brain in neutral for any man. Not even a man who was a thorough lover and compassionate human being.
The vet motioned them back into the exam room where he had the X-ray already up on the lighted viewer. The dog's leg was broken, but not badly. The dog would be fine.
But would she?
Roman looped an arm around her shoulder, pulled her against his side, and smiled down at her. "You did good, Princess. I'm going to have to reward you, aren't I?"
A frisson of heat zipped through her. She knew exactly what kind of reward he had in mind…just the kind she craved now that she'd sampled the man. Damn, but she wanted him.
Then why not have him? Making love to the most glorious man on earth didn't make her dependent on him. It didn't even need to be forever.
#
Tess pulled into Roman's driveway, parked the car, and trotted up to the house. Aside from having forgotten her notebook, life was good, great even. Clean up at The Castle had moved along well in the week since she'd moved into Roman's bed. The wood floors hadn't been ruined by all the water poured on the fire and only the second floor ceilings and walls and the third floor bonus room would need new sheetrock. She could thank Roman for calling in a favor with the water extraction team and getting them working immediately. The sprayed-in insulation she'd chosen didn't absorb water and that had saved her from having to rip out a lot more sheetrock to replace insulation. Fortunately there'd been little carpeting to tear-out and all of Aunt Honey's antique furnishing on the lower floors survived. To top it all off, there was great sex no strings attached.
Somewhere deep inside her, something told her there were always strings attached. But she refused to listen. She was happy, even if she'd had to interrupt her work at The Castle because she'd left her notebook back at Roman's.
She was on the brink of the stairway to the second floor when voices coming from the back drew her to the screen door. Outside, Roman pulled a length of lumber from beneath the deck with the help of a boy who couldn't be more than three or four. Wheat hued hair poked out from beneath the yellow, child-sized hard hat. Add a toy tool belt and he was a miniature of the man. He had to be Roman's nephew.
Roman held the board up to his eye, sighting the length of it. "Good and straight," he said.
The boy held a shorter board likewise to his eye and declared, "Good and straight."
"Do you remember our measurement?" Roman asked.
The boy recited a number. Roman smiled. "Good job."
The child beamed. Tess couldn't help but smile.
With dual tape-measures, the boy's a smaller version of Roman's, they both measured the board and made pencil marks. "We'll make our cut now," Roman said, slipping on his safety glasses. "You know what to do when I cut."
The child put on a tiny pair of goggles and stepped behind Roman as Roman picked up a skill saw and braced the board across two saw horses.
This is the kind of father Roman was going to be, protecting, educating, nurturing. The wine of the saw died off as Roman finished his cut and Tess' smile faded. What was she doing rolling around between the sheets with a man who had a life plan that had no room in it for her?
Roman handed the cut board to the kid, hoisted him onto his shoulders, and headed off across the yard. She ached to have had such a father--ached to know she'd never have what that little boy had in Roman. She raised a hand to the screen as though she might be able to feel their camaraderie through the mesh--capture what she'd missed in her own youth.
"You must be Tess," a sweet female voice said behind her, making her jump.
The petite blonde held out a hand, "I'm Dixie, Roman's sister."
"Y-yes," Tess said, accepting the curvy blonde's hand. "I recognize you from the pictures Roman has around the house."
Dixie's curls shuddered with the shake of her head. "What? He hasn't talked about me?"
"Ah. Some. It sounds like he's talked about me, though."
Dixie's curled lips lifted further. "Some."
It was clear he'd told his sister a whole lot more than some, not that his sister was hiding the fact. She struck her as a very open person and one with wicked sense of humor that went right along with those happy face pajamas she'd given Roman.
"It was nice meeting you," Tess said, shifting away from the screen door. "I just stopped by to pick up something I forgot here."
"Don't leave."
Tess paused. "I don't want to intrude on your family time."
"Nonsense," Dixie said, looping her arm through Tess' and turning them both toward the screen door. "You're not intruding at all."
The back door squeaked open and Roman glanced up from the board he was nailing to the frame bolted into place in the lowest crux of an oak. Arm in arm, Dixie and Tess approached, Dixie grinning, Tess looking apprehensive. He sighed. Good or bad, the two had to meet sometime.
"Look who I found watching you from the back door," Dixie said.
Tess blanched as though she'd been caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar. "I heard talking and came to check…"
He gave Tess a reassuring smile and nodded her closer. "Come. We could use an architect's input on this job."
"Yeah," the child said, pausing with toy hammer in hand. "We could use an archt'ict on this job."
Roman placed a hand on the child's shoulder. "This is my number one man on the job, my nephew Benjamin. Ben, this is my friend Tess."
The kid held his free hand up to Tess. "Hello, Miss Tess."
Tess released herself from Dixie, squatted in front of the boy, and took his hand. "Nice to meet you, Benjamin."
"Ev'rybody calls me Ben. They used to call me Benj. But-but I'm too big for that now."
"Okay, Ben. So, what do you and your uncle want this architect to do about your job?"
Ben peered up at Roman, his big, round eyes questioning.
"We can always use an architect to check our construction, make sure it's done properly," Roman said. "Can never be too safe when building a tree house."
"Never be too safe," Ben mimicked.
Tess nodded
"I'll leave you three to the construction work," Dixie said. "I've got groceries to put away."
Tess was under the platform inspecting struts before Dixie was halfway to the house.
"You're taking this job seriously," Roman said.
"Like you said, said, "can't be too careful with a structure built off the ground, especially for a little tyke."
"That's why it's so low," Roman said.
"What a tyke?" Ben asked.
Tess raised a questioning eyebrow at Roman, clearly uncertain how to answer without wounding Ben's pride. Roman smiled at her and held the flat of his hand half a foot above Ben's head. "A tyke is anyone whose head doesn't touch my hand."
Ben jumped, trying to touch his head to Roman's hand.
"I not a tyke," Ben said.
"No, you're not," Tess said, squatting and lifting Ben until his head touched Roman's hand.
Ben giggled and Tess lifted eyes full of devilment at Roman. He liked when she teased him. But, he liked even more how naturally she interacted with Ben, letting him take her hand once he was back on the ground and leading her around to where the ladder attached to the tree house.
"I like that you angled it and made the treads flat," she said. "Even if I was wearing my heels, I could climb a ladder like this."
Ben's grin widened and Roman's heart swelled.
"You goin' ta help us?" Ben asked.
"If you'll let me."
Ben's expression turned serious. "You gotta wear a hard hat on a job site."
Tess looked like she was fighting to keep from laughing but managed a sober," Got it covered," then trotted off around the corner of the house. A car door opened and closed and she reappeared, hard hat atop her head.
Ben's mouth popped open and he looked at his uncle with huge eyes. "She has her own hard hat! I gotta tell mama."
Roman laughed.
"Where's Ben going in such a hurry?" Tess asked as she approached.
"Suffice it to say, you having your own hard hat raised you to a very elite status with the kid."
"I'm honored."
"You should be. So far, only his uncles have made that club."
She blinked. "Wow. Am I going to have to top a hard hat to stay in that club?"
"Nah," Roman said, slinging an arm around her shoulders and drawing her close. "Once you're in you're in forever."
"Forever, huh?"
There was an odd note in her voice. But, before he could decide whether it was wistful or apprehensive, Ben came running back, all little boy hoots and hollers. Back to nailing up boards with Ben, Roman tried to make eye contact with Tess. But she seemed off in her own world, studying the wall of the tree house facing his house. He was just about to send Ben for more nails so he could talk to Tess when she asked him the last question he'd have expected from her.
"Can I borrow your truck?"
"Sure. Keys are in the ignition."
"Be back in a few minutes," she said and sprinted off toward the driveway.
Dixie appeared at his elbow, a plate of sandwiches and pitcher of lemonade in hand. "Where's Tess going?"
"I don't know."
"She's coming back, isn't she?"
"She better. She took my truck."
Roman, Dixie, and Ben were finishing their sandwiches in the tree house when Tess returned, dragging a curved, yellow, semi-tubular fiberglass object behind her. Roman was the first the rise from the low platform.
"What's that?" he asked.
"What that?" mimicked Ben from the platform.
Grinning, Tess braced the tubular end up against the tree house wall and turned it so everyone could see the open end nearest the ground.
"A slide," hooted Ben.
Taming Tess (The St. John Sibling Series) Page 16