The Stud

by Barbara Delinsky

  She clenched her muscles again. "This?"

  He gave a tortured groan and thrust higher, and it was her turn to groan. The feeling inside her was new and intense. No man had ever excited her this way. She could barely think beyond his hardness, heat and size, and the scent she was coming to recognize as his, maybe theirs. Needing more, she strained against him. Her hands moved through the hair on his chest. She clutched his shoulders and began meeting his thrusts.

  Burying his mouth against her throat, he bowed his back and quickened his pace. Wanting to feel him deeper, then deeper still, she raised her legs to his waist. Reality was beginning to slip away from her when, with a hoarse cry, Spencer climaxed.

  Loving the triumphant sound of his cry and the feel of his pulsing inside her, Jenna held him tightly. Only with the ebbing of his orgasm did she become aware of an inner expectancy unfulfilled. Then, as though he'd read her mind and understood it, she felt his hand slide between their bodies to the place where they were still joined.

  She whispered his name in protest

  "You won't lose anything, " he whispered back. His finger found what it was seeking and began to pluck that swollen flesh. "I'll stay inside you to stopper things up. "

  "No, " she whispered, but reality started slipping again. She grabbed at his wrist, wanting to pull him away. Instead, the movement of his finger made her weak with wanting, so that she had to hold on tight or fall. The heat grew in her belly and spread through her body like a fog, dimming all thought of protest. Her breasts rose and fell. She arched mindlessly closer to Spencer, oblivious to the soft sounds of need that came from her throat until, with a choked cry, she exploded with a pleasure so total that the world went a brilliant, blinding white.

  Jenna had no idea how much later it was when Spencer finally lifted off her. She knew it had been a while. Her breathing was even; the dampness on her skin had dried. She wasn't sure whether she had actually dozed or whether she had simply floated in a stupor of satisfaction that was reinforced by the warmth of his body over hers. But she felt a loss the minute he moved.

  "Stay put, " he whispered, and groped around for her panties. After he had helped her put them on, he fixed his own pants. Then, before she had any inkling of what he planned, he scooped her into his arms.

  She didn't say a word. She felt so lethargic that she wasn't sure she could have moved on her own, and besides, being held close and carried felt good. Too soon she was being set gently down on one of the kitchen chairs.

  Spencer proceeded to reheat the dinner she had made and serve it. He claimed it was delicious and she supposed it was, though she was distracted. She was straggling to put the pleasure she had just felt into a context that had to do with the baby.

  She hadn't bargained for pleasure. She hadn't expected it, didn't want it She didn't want to enjoy something enough to miss it when it was gone. After all, Spencer had done his job and was leaving the next day.

  She knew he was aware of that, too, because what little conversation they had revolved around his manuscript, which would be ready with several more hours of work that night, and his plane, which was repaired and airworthy again. He was planning to fly to New York and drop the manuscript off, then continue south to Florida.

  Because it seemed the only polite thing to do, she told him she would drive him to the airport. "It's only an hour, " she pointed out when he frowned.

  "I can take a cab. "

  "You could have taken a cab when you arrived, but you asked me to pick you up. So I can take you back. " It was the least she could do, given how generous he'd been with his time.

  Gruffly he said, "I thought we should talk then. There's no need for it now. "

  She knew that he was anxious to regain his freedom, and felt a twinge of hurt at the thought. But the hurt was good. It put a necessary wedge between them. Spencer had helped her with something she wanted, but that was where their involvement ended. The only thing left was to wind up their time together as cleanly as possible.

  "I'm driving you, " she said firmly.

  "You have to work. "

  "I won't feel comfortable working until I know you're in the air. "

  "That eager to be rid of me, are you?"

  She shot him a look of annoyance, and felt that annoyance all the way to her toes. She didn't know the answer to his question. Even aside from the sex, being with him hadn't been bad at all. It hadn't been as intimidating or anywhere near as awkward as she had thought it would be. But life had to go on, and that would mean reclaiming her office at home, stripping his bed of the sheets he had used and watching the calendar and her body for signs that what had happened in the dark of night between Spencer and her had worked.

  They were in the Jaguar on their way to the airport Tuesday morning, with Jenna driving and Spencer brooding, when he asked her about that. "How soon will you know?"

  She didn't equivocate. The baby was the only interest they had in each other now. "Thirteen days. "

  "I thought there were tests to tell you sooner. "

  "I don't trust them. If one said I was pregnant and it turned out I wasn't, I'd be devastated. I'd rather wait. If I'm a day late, I'll know. Then I can do the test to confirm it. "

  He was silent, staring out the side window. When they were within five minutes of the airport, he said, "I'll give you a call in two weeks to find out. "

  "I won't be here. I'll be in Hong Kong. "

  His head came around fast. "Hong Kong?" The silver in his blue eyes was alive, though whether from envy, curiosity or irritation she didn't know. "Why are you going to Hong Kong?"

  "I'm touring the factories that make some of our things. "

  "Alone?"

  She shook her head. "With a few of my people. We like to see things firsthand once or twice a year. "

  "You shouldn't be going now. "

  She pictured the front page of the newspaper as it had been that morning, and couldn't remember seeing Hong Kong listed among the world's current trouble spots. "Why not?"

  His eyes flashed—quite definitely in irritation, she realized.

  "Because you may be pregnant. "

  "If I am, what's happening inside me is so microscopic that going to Hong Kong won't affect it one way or another. Believe me, " she said with a knowing chuckle and a protective hand on her stomach, "I would do nothing to endanger this child. "

  "I've done that trip many times. It's long and tiring. You don't call that a danger?"

  "No. Neither does my doctor. Once I knew you'd help me, I asked him about it. He said that if an egg is going to be fertilized, it'll happen before I leave, and if it happens and is good, nothing about a trip like this can harm it. "

  "What if it isn't good? What if you have a miscarriage when you're halfway around the world?"

  "A miscarriage at this stage is a period. I won't even know I was pregnant"

  "What if you are, and you start getting morning sickness?"

  "I won't. Morning sickness doesn't start until the fifth or sixth week at the earliest. If anything, this is the best time to go. If I'm here, I'll be looking at the calendar every day. If I'm there, I'll be distracted. The time will go faster. " She took her eyes from the road long enough to see the doubt on his face. "Really, Spencer. It's not like I'm going there to party. Between the length of the flight and the fact that this trip is strictly business, I'll be getting plenty of sleep. "

  "Will you sleep on the flight?" he asked in such a way that she was momentarily shaken. She hadn't thought he would put two and two together where her emotions were concerned, but his tone was knowing enough to suggest just that.

  She kept her eyes peeled for the airport turnoff. "I always sleep on airplanes. That's the only way I can make it through the flight. Actually, I've flown enough since my parents died to be over the worst of the fear. The statistics are in my favor. And Mom and Dad went down in a small, private plane, while I only fly in the largest commercial jets to be found. "

  "You'd love my plane, "
Spencer said tongue-in-cheek, and looked out the window again.

  Jenna wouldn't step foot in his plane for all the tea in China, but that didn't mean she begrudged Spencer flying it. She could understand the convenience, even the pleasure. She could also understand that a person might feel more in command with his own hands at the controls, than with a stranger in charge. Personally, she wanted size and bulk around her. It might be a delusion, but she felt safer that way. She could also, with a determined stretch of the imagination, pretend she was simply sitting in a cabin-shaped transport moving along the ground from point A to point B.

  Feeling a gnawing in the pit of her stomach that she was sure came from the dozens of small planes in sight, she pulled up at Hangar C, turned off the engine and launched into the speech she'd been preparing since dawn. "Thank you, Spencer. I can't begin to tell you how grateful I am for what you've done. You made the time to be here, when you had a pile of your own work to do, and I appreciate that. You were considerate and gentle. You made me feel less embarrassed than I might have. You were wonderful. "

  Slowly he turned to her, eyes piercing, jaw set. The look was intimidating. She wasn't sure what he was so angry about.

  "I mean all that, " she insisted.

  "I'm sure you do. "

  "With any luck, I won't have to bother you again. I've already signed papers to the effect that I won't ask you for anything when it comes to this child. My lawyer has them. I'll have him send them to you by courier if that would make you feel better. "

  Spencer pushed the door open and climbed out. "What would make me feel better, " he grumbled as he reached for his gear, "would be for you to stop thanking me as though I had just delivered a rush order of panty hose in time for your summer sale. " He was leaning into the car, his eyes level with hers and narrowed. "What you and I did was fun. It was stimulating and satisfying. It was a nice diversion from my work. " His voice sharpened. "And don't bother with a courier. I know where the papers are. When I need them, I'll get them. " He straightened and slammed the door. Then he swung his duffel over his shoulder and walked off.

  Jenna's eyes grew glassy. She blinked once, then again. She took a deep, shaky breath and let it out with a sigh, but she didn't move. She sat in the car until she saw Spencer come out of the hangar and approach one of the planes. It looked old and more battered than the rest. But his step didn't falter. He opened the door and threw his gear ahead of him before he climbed in. She saw him moving around the cockpit, then settling in behind the controls. After what seemed an eternity, the propellers started turning slowly, then faster. When they were little more than a round blur, the plane turned and headed away from the terminal. It advanced to the runway and paused. After a bit, it started forward again, gaining speed this time until, with a small bounce that made her gasp, it left the ground. She watched it gain altitude, watched it put distance between itself and her, watched until it was nothing but a speck in the sky.

  Only then, with a vow to look nowhere but forward, did she start the car and head for work.

  Chapter 7

  In fact, Jenna had grilled her doctor long and hard about the wisdom of going to Hong Kong. The trip had been planned six months earlier, when she hadn't known she'd be trying to make a baby. Knowing it now, she had been as skeptical as Spencer. But the doctor was right. If she was going to conceive that month, she would have conceived before takeoff. She would be flying first class, staying in a luxury hotel, eating in fine restaurants, taking taxis wherever she went. Anything that might happen under those conditions could just as easily happen at home, and for her peace of mind alone, she was better off busy than idle.

  So, one week after Spencer flew south, she flew west, then west again, and to some extent she succeeded in not dwelling on whether there was a baby or not. From breakfast through dinner each day, she followed a comfortably busy schedule. Before breakfast, she prepared herself for those meetings; after dinner, she analyzed them. She only thought about the baby at night, when she was in bed awaiting sleep, and for the most part she was hopeful. During those times of doubt when she wished she had stayed home, where things were less eventful, she thought of the millions of unplanned pregnancies each year, of the women who went about their lives without realizing anything was amiss, who did things that were active, rigorous, even dangerous without losing their babies, and she was encouraged. Yes, she was active, but no more so than usual, and she didn't do anything that could even remotely be considered rigorous or dangerous.

  Every morning, she took her temperature. From a low at the time of ovulation, it had risen to normal and was hovering there, which meant either that she would be getting her period or missing it.

  She got it Seven days into the trip, with three days to go before she flew home, she woke in the morning with proof that there wouldn't be a baby in April. The first thing she did was to burst into tears, but they didn't last long. She was too levelheaded to wallow in self-pity. After all, she and Spencer had only made love twice. Some couples tried for years before they succeeded. Hadn't her own doctor said it might take time? Hadn't he said she shouldn't be discouraged if she didn't immediately conceive?

  They would try again. It was as simple as that.

  Assuming Spencer was willing.

  That thought haunted her through the final days of her trip. She found herself thinking about it not only at night, but when she was with other people, at meals and meetings. Spencer had been annoyed with her when he'd left. She assumed he had been feeling antsy after being stuck at her house for three full days. Granted he'd had to work on his book and probably would have been restless wherever he was, but he was at her house with her, so she took his restlessness personally.

  He said he liked the sex. She wasn't sure she believed him, though she desperately wanted to. Sure, he climaxed, but for all she knew he was thinking of another woman when he did. It would be just like him to try to make her feel good. On the other hand, he had snapped when she'd mentioned the papers she'd signed, which told her that regardless of who was in his mind at the time, he liked the sex part more than the baby part.

  Had the sex been good enough to bring him back for another round? It had been for her, good enough— terrific enoughs—for her to feel more than a shimmer of excitement at the thought of being with him again, but what did she know. Spencer was the most skilled man she'd ever been with. She seriously doubted the reverse was true, and if that was so, he had possibly moved on to another woman already.

  She wanted him back. She wanted that baby. He was the only one who would do.

  By the time she returned to Little Compton, she was dead tired. Ironically, that wouldn't have been so if she'd been pregnant. But between worrying about Spencer's reaction when she gave him the news, wondering about his willingness to try again and coping with her period, which took a toll on her strength in the best of times, she was washed out. Without bothering to phone either the office or her answering service, she went straight to bed. That was at five in the afternoon. By the time she got out of bed at nine the next morning, feeling far, far better than when she'd crawled in, she knew she owed Spencer an immediate call.

  He wasn't home. Her answering service told her that he had tried her the day before. Her secretary at the office said the same thing. She tried him again, every hour on the hour, and with each unanswered call, she conjured up more disturbing reasons for his absence. All involved women.

  Finally, at three that afternoon, he picked up the phone. Even before she spoke, he sounded hassled. "Yeah?"

  "Spencer?"

  There was a pause, then a tentative, "Is that you, Jenna?"

  "Uh-huh. "

  "For God's sake, where have you been?" he thundered. "I thought you were due back yesterday. Did you decide you wanted an extra day in San Francisco, when you knew I was waiting to hear from you? That was a damned inconsiderate thing to do. There are phones in San Francisco. You could have called me from there. " With barely a breath, he asked, "So are you, or aren't y
ou?"

  "I'm not, " she said immediately. Clearly he was impatient to know if she was pregnant, though she didn't know whether he wanted her to be or not.

  "You got your period?" His tone was calmer, but it gave nothing away.

  "Right on time. "

  He was still for a minute. "Were you disappointed?"

  "Very!" She thought that would be obvious. "I wanted the baby. And I didn't want to have to ask you to come up here again. I felt badly enough doing it the first time. "

  Cavalierly he said, "It wasn't any problem. I got the work done on my book, and I got my book to New York. "

  She wrapped the telephone cord around her hand. "Well, I'm glad of that, at least. " She didn't know what else to say.

  "Are you feeling okay?"

  "A little jet-lagged, but one more night will fix that. Spencer, I didn't hang around San Francisco for an extra day. I had a two-hour layover at the airport and was on the first plane back here. By the time I got home, I was so tired I couldn't keep my head up. "

  "See? You shouldn't have gone in the first place. It was an exhausting trip. "

  "I felt great until I got my period, " she said, but she didn't see the point of elaborating, so she turned the tables. "Besides, I've been trying to call you all day. If you were so anxious to hear from me, you should have stuck around. "

  He suddenly sounded tired himself. "I've been with my lawyers all day. The court is still holding us up on these exploration rights, and time's running out. We've been trying to negotiate a compromise settlement with the other party, but so far it's a no-go. "

  "He won't give in at all?"

  "Oh, he'll give in, but not as much as I need him to, to make it worth my time and effort to do the salvaging. "

  "What happens now?"

  He sighed. "We wait for the court to reach a decision. "

  "How much time do you have?"

  "Before hurricane season sets in? A few weeks. Even if the court was to hand down its decision tomorrow, we wouldn't have much time. I guess I'll be waiting until November to begin. "