By Private Invitation

by Stephanie Julian

  “And I want you to let go, Jared.”

  She felt him freeze, as if the very notion of what she’d said was something he’d never contemplated.

  But his next retreat and re-entry was even slower. “No, you don’t. Just feel, Belle. Let yourself get lost in the pleasure.”

  She was. But she sensed the same wasn’t true for him. Still she couldn’t seem to wrap her brain around that when the friction created by each controlled thrust made her nerves flicker and snap with electricity, causing her sex to clamp around him.

  His hand switched breasts, beginning another series of ripples straight to her womb.

  “Jared. Please.”

  “I want to, Belle. Tell me what you want.”

  “Fuck me. Now.”

  She didn’t know what it was that finally flicked his switch, whether her language or the command. His entire body tightened around her and he began to thrust hard and fast and with no mercy.

  She didn’t require any. Her body accepted everything he gave her and still craved more. Faster, harder.

  Pleasure burst like fireworks in her blood, and her fingers clenched into the cushions as her pussy clenched around Jared’s jerking shaft, milking him as he came with a shout.

  Eleven

  “Good morning, Belle. I hope you slept well.”

  Jared walked through the door of the shop just before noon Tuesday morning, dressed in jeans and a cream-colored fisherman knit sweater over a blue chamois shirt. He held two cups of coffee from the café down the street and she didn’t know which to reach for first. Him or the coffee.

  His blue eyes shone and his smile brightened an otherwise dreary January morning.

  The man was just too good to be true. Handsome, smart, successful, and freaking awesome in bed.

  What the hell was he doing here? With her?

  “Morning, Jared.”

  She damn well was not going to tell him she’d slept like the dead, sated and exhausted, after he left. Or that she’d woken up reaching for him. Disappointed that he hadn’t been there.

  “I stopped at the café down the street for coffee.” He held out a paper cup.

  Because she needed the caffeine, she reached for it and felt the tingle of anticipation shoot through her as their fingers grazed. Trying not to show how much he affected her.

  “I see you found the best coffee in town.” And why didn’t that surprise her? The man would never settle for less than the best.

  She breathed in the rich aroma of Jamaican Me Crazy with a shot of cream. The coffee smelled great but Jared…Well, Jared held an appeal that was on another plane of existence.

  Images from last night bombarded her, remembered sensations making her pussy go wet and soak her underwear.

  “The woman behind the counter very kindly told me how you take yours.”

  In the dry tone of his voice, she heard exactly what he hadn’t said.

  Tracy Tate owned the coffee shop and made a mean pot of coffee and a wicked bear claw. She also dispensed gossip as fast as she could whip up two mocha lattes and an espresso to go.

  Teddy had been busy yesterday. He’d probably hit every shop along the avenue. Hell, maybe he’d stood outside the chip factory with flyers so he didn’t miss anyone.

  She forced herself to hold his gaze. “And I’m sure Tracy attempted to pump you for information.”

  Unless Tracy fell under the Jared Golden charm and simply stood there with her mouth hanging open. Tracy’s husband was a very adorable but overweight sweetheart of a guy who thought his wife walked on water. They loved each other but no woman in her right mind would not have drooled over Jared.

  “Actually, we talked mostly about you.”

  She caught herself before she rolled her eyes. Terrific. Jared had gotten an earful about how weird Annabelle was, with her addiction to antique porn. How eccentric and strange. How much time she put into her business and how little time she spent with men, like her ex Gary, who’d had to go searching for comfort between another woman’s legs.

  She took a sip of her coffee and turned to walk to the counter, deciding she needed to recount the cash drawer.

  “I’m sure that was enlightening.” She didn’t bother to look up to see if he’d followed her. She knew he had.

  “It was more like a warning.”

  Her fingers froze for a second as a whip of pain licked through her. “Oh, really? Was she warning you away from me?”

  “Actually, she seemed more concerned about you.”

  Her head shot up. “What do you mean?”

  Jared leaned on the counter, coming close. “I got the distinct feeling I was being warned not to hurt you.”

  She snorted before she could stop herself. But since she didn’t have a snappy comeback to that one, she simply ignored it and went back to counting the money.

  “I like your little town,” Jared said, filling the silence of the store. “It’s…compact. So, you ready to get to work?”

  Work, yes. But the look in his eyes didn’t exactly say work. At least not the kind of work she needed to get done.

  She did have a business to run, a business that took a lot of time. She did her own books and currently she had twenty-three searches for customer merchandise she needed to check on. The shop was open today and although she didn’t get a lot of traffic during the week, she typically had at least one or two customers Tuesday through Thursday in the winter. Weekends were another story.

  With a sigh, she closed the cash drawer, knowing the money total was correct because she’d counted it twice before he got here.

  She leaned back against the opposite counter, farther away from him. “And where do you want to start?”

  He barely hid his grin of triumph. “Here.” He let his gaze roam the store before coming back to her. “Since you’re going to be helping me, I thought maybe you’d like some professional advice on the layout of the shop.”

  “Excuse me.” She plunked the coffee on the counter and put her hands on her hips. “What’s wrong with my shop?”

  Holding up his hands in mock surrender, he shook his head. “Nothing’s wrong with it. I just noticed a few things that might set your shop apart from the others in the area.”

  Picking apart her business hadn’t been part of the bargain. Her first instinct was to tell him where to stuff his opinion and she opened her mouth to do just that. But at the last second, she snapped her lips shut before the words could escape.

  With a critical eye, she let her gaze roam.

  It had been years since she or her grandfather had done anything more than move and replace furniture. She kept the place as clean as she could, which was pretty damn clean, if she did say so herself. But the paint had begun to show some wear, the wood floors needed to be refinished, and—maybe she didn’t want to look at the ceiling.

  Still, it was an antiques shop in Adamstown, not a trendy boutique in downtown Philadelphia.

  She narrowed her gaze at him. “What kind of sprucing up are you talking about?”

  “Why don’t you show me around and we can talk as we go.”

  His smile nearly undid her and she clenched her thighs to try to ease the ache between them. She’d have to watch that. She refused to be one of his easy society women who fell at his feet. She’d seen them at the party on New Year’s Eve, fawning all over him whenever he hadn’t been with her.

  Not that they’d had much opportunity. He had spent pretty much all of his time at her side.

  Still, she’d traveled the world, knew four languages, and owned and operated her own business. People who knew her described her as steady, solid, and insightful. And boy, didn’t that sound boring as all hell. No wonder she didn’t have a man in her life. Not that she was looking for one…

  Oh, for heaven’s sake, she was only twenty-eight. Still plenty of time for her to find the man of her dreams and live happily ever after. And Jared was not happily-ever-after material. He was happily-right-now material. A playboy.

  A
nd she refused to fall for another playboy, even one as gorgeous as Jared.

  She plopped onto the stool behind her and picked up her coffee. “Who made you king of the world this morning?”

  The man must be made to stop smiling, she decided.

  “Just in a good mood, I guess. What about you? Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?”

  Yeah, the one without you in it. She took a sip. “No, just trying to figure you out.”

  He shook his head. “Nothing to figure out. We’ll be spending a lot of time together for the next month. Since you’re helping me with the spa, I just thought I’d give you a few observations. You want to hear what I have to say or not?”

  Of course, she wanted to hear what he had to say. Jared and his brother owned and operated a successful hotel in a major metropolitan city. The man had brains as well as good looks and didn’t that just make him too yummy for words?

  However, Gary had seemed like a decent guy at first and look how that turned out.

  But Gary was on a whole different plane of existence from Jared. Gary lived on the plane for assholes.

  Jared, on the other hand…

  “Hey, Belle. You still with me?”

  Oh, yeah. She was still here. Held in place by blue eyes that reminded her of sunny days.

  This man was nothing like Gary. He was so far from being like Gary they should have come from different planets.

  She took a deep breath and nodded. “Alright, let me have it straight.”

  After he’d left her bed last night, Jared had spent the rest of the night lying in the surprisingly comfortable bed at the inn, staring at the ceiling.

  Thinking about this woman.

  She’d fallen asleep on him, literally. He’d picked her up after that last round on the couch and she’d fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder.

  After settling her into bed, he’d almost climbed in with her before he remembered what she’d said about gossip in a small town.

  He knew how devastating gossip could be in a city like Philadelphia, but the city was big so you could always find a bolt-hole away from the snide comments and dirty looks. Or you could go to Europe to escape. His mother loved Europe.

  In a small town, there weren’t that many places to hide.

  And if he’d stayed the night, the owner of the bed and breakfast would have told the owner of the café that he hadn’t returned last night. And the owner of the café would have told the first twenty or thirty people who came through for their morning coffee. By noon, everyone in town would have known, or thought they’d known, that he’d slept in Annabelle’s bed.

  Not that he cared about his reputation. He didn’t live here. But Annabelle did.

  Even if he did find a property for the spa in the area, he wouldn’t be dealing with the locals on a regular basis. He’d hire someone to do that.

  So he’d forced himself to go back to the inn. And thought about her all night.

  That didn’t happen often. The women he dated were far from stupid, but their end goal usually involved a wedding ring and unlimited access to the Golden bank accounts. Which didn’t rank high on Jared’s list of things he admired in a woman.

  The woman now staring at him with bright green eyes had neither of those goals in mind. If she’d had her way originally, he’d have been out of here yesterday.

  Was that the appeal? Her seeming indifference to his social standing and his money? Or was she a better actress than he gave her credit for?

  “Jared?”

  He heard a question in her tone, saw it in the lift of her brows. And in the arms crossed over her beautiful breasts.

  He smiled at her but she only lifted her eyebrows higher. “Why don’t you show me around, tell me a little about this place and your goods. We can talk as we walk.”

  She didn’t immediately snap to attention, and he had to admit he really liked that. After a few seconds she sighed but didn’t come out from behind the counter. “What do you want to know?”

  He wanted to know everything about her, but he’d take what he could get for now. “Tell me about the shop. How long have you been here? Give me a little background.”

  “Well, Granddad bought the building about ten years ago. He decided to settle down while I was in college and this area seemed like a good one. Small town but it attracts a huge clientele in exactly what we sell. Granddad’s specialty was furniture, French and English and a little Italian. I have a broader base in American furniture and art. I double majored in art history and business administration with a minor in American history at Gettysburg College.”

  Setting his coffee on the counter next to hers, he leaned closer to her. “Sounds like you were busy.”

  She shrugged but didn’t move away. “I loved college, though I was pretty much an outcast. Both Kate and I were. I guess it’s why we’re such good friends now. But all I really wanted to do was get out and get back here.”

  “I know how that goes. I hated college, all that studying.” He mock shuddered and was rewarded with one of her smiles. “But a college degree was included in the terms of my inheritance and we needed the inheritance to build Haven.” She opened her mouth to ask another question, but he didn’t want to talk about himself. “So you’ve been running the shop since your grandfather died?”

  She nodded. “About a year ago.”

  He saw grief etched in the downturn of her lips and in the shadows of her eyes. He wanted to walk around the counter and take her in his arms, comfort her. But that was completely out of character for him so he stayed exactly where he was.

  “And your parents?” he asked instead.

  She shook her head, no hesitation in her answer. “I don’t really remember them. They were killed in a boating accident when I was five. They were crewing a yacht in the Atlantic when a storm blew up. Witnesses say my father was blown overboard and my mother jumped in after him. Neither of them were seen again and their bodies were never recovered.”

  Jared heard something in her tone, something he couldn’t put his finger on. He’d known about her parents because of Dane’s investigation but it almost sounded rehearsed.

  Or maybe he was just reading too much into something she must find painful.

  “My grandfather raised me. He hired a tutor to educate me while we traveled around Europe. At that time, Granddad was an independent appraiser who worked for most of the major auction houses in Britain. Luckily for me, Granddad and my tutor, Isadore, fell in love and stayed together until Isadore died about four years ago.”

  “Her loss must have been tough for both of you.”

  “It was. And when Granddad died, I floundered for a little while. He was well known in the business and I was always riding his coattails.”

  “But you have the credentials?”

  Her gaze snapped back to his, bright and determined. “Yes, and not just in years of experience. Granddad always said I had the eye.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I can tell quality, whether it’s a piece of furniture or artwork. I learned from an early age how to tell a fake from an original. Granddad was a master. It would have been impossible not to pick up some of his wisdom.”

  She warmed to her subject as they meandered through the shop, telling him bits and pieces of information about each piece—where it’d been found, who’d made it, or who’d owned it. She had an incredible knowledge of each piece but lingered over the ones that had stories attached.

  “The man who sold me this chair told me George Washington once sat on it while he was in Philadelphia for the Constitutional Convention of 1787. Of course, I can’t prove it, but it is the right age and make, and I can trace its provenance back to the early 1800s in Philadelphia. I just can’t place Washington in the chair.” Her smile returned. “When I sit in it, though, I swear I feel presidential.”

  And she made him feel like a hormonally charged teenager when she smiled at him like that.

  As she showed him around the rest of shop, h
e struggled to take mental notes. It was hard with her by his side, talking, laughing, and smiling. But he did manage some general impressions and he’d already had a few ideas from yesterday.

  As they made their way back to the counter, Annabelle fell silent until she sat back down on her stool, the counter between them again.

  “So?” She propped her elbow on the counter and placed her chin in her hand. “What do you think?”

  He thought she looked damn good naked, and he wanted to spread her out on the counter and feast on her.

  Of course, that wasn’t what she wanted to hear, so he said, “Organization and presentation.”

  Tiny furrows grew between her eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you know your stuff. Now you just have to package it better.”

  He paused to see how she was taking this and was encouraged by the interest in her expression.

  “And how do you think I should do that?”

  He swallowed the smile that probably would have put her nose out of joint at his cockiness, but he knew he had her hooked.

  “Well, that’s going to cost you another dinner with me.”

  Her head tilted to the side, and she bit her bottom lip while weighing the pros and cons.

  Most women he knew would have jumped at his offer. If Belle said no…Fine. No harm, no foul.

  She looked to be seriously considering her options. And for the first time, he actually worried that he wouldn’t measure up.

  Finally she lifted her chin off her hand and sat up straight on the stool. “I can do dinner again. Here at my place, around seven tonight.”

  Her place? Not at a restaurant but here, which was more intimate. But was she worried about staying out of sight of prying eyes?

  “Absolutely. Can I bring wine?”

  “Sure. Are you okay with Italian?”

  “Love it.” And he did. Hell, she could make soup and sandwiches and he’d be there.

  She hopped off her stool, rubbed her palms on her slightly baggy jeans, then put her hands in her pockets. “Great. So I’ll see you tonight.”

  She wanted him gone. How was that for a kick in the ass?

  With a true grin now, he acknowledged her unspoken demand with a slight nod of his head. “I should get to my meeting with the Realtor. I’ll be back.”