Second Time Around (Second Glances)

by Nancy Herkness

  “It won’t happen again.” Twain spoke with authority and a hint of apology. “You’ve made your position clear and we should honor it.”

  “Next, hell will freeze over,” Will said in an oddly conversational tone, given the fraught atmosphere. “But I appreciate your support, sir.” He returned Kyra’s hand to the crook of his elbow.

  Betsy opened her mouth, but Kyra saw Twain’s fingers tighten on his wife’s shoulder in a warning. Will’s mother looked annoyed but she clamped her lips shut.

  Kyra tried to think of an innocuous social phrase to extricate them all, but each one that came to mind—it was a pleasure, nice to meet you, thank you for your hospitality—rang with such irony she couldn’t bring herself to mouth any of them.

  Will solved the problem. “I’ll try to get home for Christmas,” he said before he pivoted to march out the door.

  Kyra heard Betsy’s strangled cry of dismay, and then Will was hurrying her to the Jaguar, handing her in, and closing her door with a snap.

  He slipped into the driver’s seat, revved the engine, and peeled out over the cobblestones, tires squealing. His knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, his chin jutting with anger.

  “Don’t worry about it,” she said, reaching over to touch his upper arm. “You warned me.” She tried to make her smile reassuring, but she could feel the tremor in her muscles.

  “My mother went beyond the pale,” he said, his voice taut with rage. “You think she’s done her worst and then . . .”

  “You’re not responsible for what your parents do,” Kyra said. Although she’d learned the hard way that wasn’t always true.

  He took his eyes off the road to glance at her. “I knew I was taking you into a pit of vipers. It was inexcusable on my part.”

  “You’re being dramatic again. I’ve dealt with far worse, believe me.”

  He swung the Jaguar off the road and bumped to a halt at the edge of the field where the helicopter stood waiting. “But I invited you to a party, not a soap opera.” He hit the button that closed the car’s ragtop over them again.

  Kyra shrugged. “Things happen. Don’t sweat it.”

  “Are you really that tough? Or do you just talk a good game?” He surveyed her with a piercing gaze.

  “A little of both.” She heard the chopper’s engine whine to life. “Wait, didn’t Schuyler want a ride with us?”

  “Oh, hell, you’re right.” He yanked his phone out of his pocket and typed a rapid message. “She has fifteen minutes.”

  Wedging his wide shoulders against the driver’s-side window, he finally smiled at her. “I planned to spend the whole ride back to New York apologizing, but it looks like we’ll have an audience. When do you have another day off?”

  Excitement burbled up inside her, even as she tried to tamp it down. He only wanted to see her again because he felt guilty. “Tomorrow night. I work at the center until six. After that I work every night until next Sunday.”

  But his smile widened with what seemed to be genuine pleasure. “Tomorrow. Is seven too early to pick you up?”

  “Depends on how dressed up I have to be.” Her blood was racing in her veins at the prospect of seeing him again so soon.

  “Personally, I’d rather you weren’t dressed at all.” Wicked delight glinted in his eyes.

  “There are laws about that.” Her insides were melting in the most delicious way.

  “Only in public. In private, your state of undress is no one’s business but mine. And I consider it very serious business.” His voice had dropped to a seductive rumble, its vibration echoing in her belly.

  “You haven’t answered my question,” she said on an exhale.

  “I got distracted with picturing you naked and lying across the leather seats in the limo.”

  “Will!” She shifted as heat and moisture pooled between her legs.

  He reached across the console to lay his palm on the bare skin just above her knee. “If I go higher, will I find you wet?”

  The hollow between her legs seemed to pulse with longing. “Schuyler is coming,” she ground out.

  “Just a quick dip so I can lick your taste from my finger,” he coaxed.

  Need overcame good sense. She nodded and he leaned over to slide his hand under her skirt, bunching it on his wrist as she spread her thighs to give him better access. He found the edge of her panties and pushed aside the lace, seeking the hot center of her and driving his finger in. Her hips bucked and he sucked in a breath. “I want to make you come so badly.”

  She gasped and opened her legs wider, desire making her shameless. “If you watch for Schuyler.”

  Before her last word was spoken, he had slipped two fingers inside her and turned his hand so his thumb could tease her clit. His first stroke had her head slamming back into the headrest as pleasure shot through her. “Like that. Again,” she demanded.

  He obliged, but rotated his wrist at the same time, adding an extra angle to the press of his fingers within her. The surprise of the delicious new sensation nearly made her scream. She pushed her pelvis upward to offer more. He did it again and her arousal coiled tighter.

  “God, I want to put my mouth between your thighs,” he rasped as he worked his fingers in and out of her. “I want to lick into you and taste it when you come.”

  And she was there, her muscles clamping down hard before everything inside her exploded into hot, liquid orgasm. “Will, yes!” she gasped before a long, inarticulate cry tore from her throat as her muscles convulsed again and again around his thrusting fingers. When the orgasm faded to tiny shudders, she sagged down onto the seat and he slid out of her, lifting his fingers to his mouth and sucking on them as he hummed deep in his throat.

  “You taste like chocolate and the sea,” he said.

  “Mmm.” Kyra was lost in the afterglow, her eyes closed, her head tilted back against the soft leather of the Jag’s seat. She felt a tug on her dress and looked down to see Will smoothing it down over her thighs. “Such a gentleman,” she said.

  “No, just making sure there’s a next time. And Schuyler is about to arrive.”

  Kyra bolted upright in her seat, jerking her dress down even farther.

  Will laid a calming hand on her frantic ones. “She would applaud, not judge.”

  “That’s what you think.” Not that she had direct knowledge, since she was an only child, but in her observations, siblings were protective of each other when it came to love interests.

  There was a tap at Will’s window, and Schuyler peered through the slightly steamy glass. Will swung his door open slowly and hauled himself out of the car. Kyra took a deep breath, checked her dress again, and climbed out just as Will came around to hold her door.

  “Thanks for waiting,” Schuyler said, but she had a funny smile on her face while she eyed the two of them, as though she suspected them of doing exactly what they had been doing. “The traffic report is appalling.”

  They trooped across the field to the chopper, Will acting as escort between them, Schuyler keeping up a running commentary about the party guests.

  A wave of exhaustion swept over Kyra. She hadn’t realized how stressful it had been to smile and nod and make conversation with a whole party of total strangers. Not to mention sex with Will. It had been incredible, but the intensity and unexpectedness had drained her.

  Even the thrilling thought that he wanted to see her again so soon couldn’t boost her sagging energy.

  As they climbed into the helicopter, she found herself hoping Schuyler would talk all the way back to New York.

  Will watched Kyra stare out the helicopter’s window, while his sister babbled on about who’d done what at the party. Fury seethed in his chest as he thought of his mother’s unspeakable rudeness to Kyra—who was now so much more than just a buffer in a difficult situation. He hated that their day had nearly ended on such a sour note.

  Thank God she had let him give her an orgasm in the car, even though it had left him with a hard
-on that still pressed against his briefs. She had looked so glorious with her thighs spread and his hand buried between them. Her little pants of arousal and the wet heat inside her had made him want to drag her over to straddle his lap so he could thrust his cock into her over and over again. But first he wanted to taste her directly instead of just on his fingers.

  He yanked his imagination away from sex with Kyra. Tomorrow night wasn’t that far away. Then he could turn his fantasies into reality.

  But the next picture that rose up in his mind was the sight of Kyra and Petra sitting on the love seat, chatting. What the hell was his mother trying to accomplish? If she thought Petra would somehow eclipse Kyra, she was dead wrong. Kyra was so strong, so wise, so sexy—his mind began to wander again so he pulled it up short. Beside her, Petra seemed shallow and bland.

  He’d been fooled by Petra’s exotic beauty and her outward poise at first, just like everyone else. However, Petra was nothing but a pretty facade that covered a boundless concern for herself and her image.

  Kyra was a woman of depths and passion.

  His gaze traced over the tilt of her head propped on her hand, the crescent of her eyelashes against her smooth cheeks, her generous mouth, and the curve of her breasts under the lace, before slipping down her legs to the subtle nude polish on her toenails. He’d heard his mother make a snarky comment about Kyra’s clothes coming from Macy’s, but he admired her the more for looking exquisite without having to pay exorbitant prices for clothes.

  A sudden movement drew his gaze back up to her face. She must have fallen asleep, and her chin had slipped off her hand. Now she blinked dazedly in the sunlight slanting through the window.

  He leaned forward to touch her knee. “Tilt the seat back so you can sleep,” he said. “You’ve had a rough day.”

  She gave him that slightly crooked smile he had come to enjoy. “I didn’t run into my ex-fiancée.”

  “But I knew all the guests at the party and you met them all for the first time.”

  Schuyler nodded. “You should have pushed him overboard when you had the chance on the Royal Wave. It would have been fitting punishment for dragging you into the family drama.”

  Kyra raised her hand to cover a yawn. “I think all the fresh air made me sleepy. I’m used to nice, unhealthy pollution. Keeps you alert.”

  “Fresh air?” His sister raised her eyebrows. “I thought it was all the, um, exercise.”

  “Schuyler.” Will shot her a warning look.

  She smirked at him. “If you disappear for several hours with your lovely date, people know what you’re doing. And they’re envious.”

  Kyra made a choking sound as color glowed in her cheeks. Her gaze met Will’s. “She called me lovely so I’m okay with it.”

  Schuyler laughed. “You should keep her, Will.”

  Chapter 8

  Kyra found room for the last bunch of carrots in one of the Carver’s Center’s mismatched refrigerators. The kids called Mondays “veggie day” with varying degrees of enthusiasm because in the morning, Kyra made the rounds of local grocery stores, which donated fresh produce that hadn’t sold over the weekend. She would sort through it, choosing things that would last another day and cooking the rest before it wilted. In her opinion, these were the most interesting meals of the week because they required creativity to entice the kids into eating them. And they allowed her to stretch her food budget. Thank goodness she’d helped her old boss with ordering at the restaurant back in Macungie. He’d taught her how to combine inexpensive ingredients to make food that tasted gourmet.

  Today she was making veggie pizzas. Turn anything into a pizza and the kids would fall on it like ravening wolves. She had dumped her piles of vegetables in the sink and begun to wash them when Emily Wade walked in with her habitual mug of coffee.

  “Oh, good,” Kyra said. “I have your jewelry to return. It was perfect for the party. Made me feel like a million bucks.”

  “I’m so glad.” Emily settled on a stool at the island. “Tell me about the party. Was it fun?”

  Kyra dried her hands on a dish towel as she considered how to answer that. “Not fun, but fascinating. For one thing, we flew up there in a helicopter.” She slid onto a stool opposite Emily’s. “Of course you’re probably accustomed to traveling like that.”

  “Not really. It still seems extravagant to me.”

  “The farm Will grew up on is amazing. Horses and formal gardens and a swimming pool. He has a golf cart that looks like a Ferrari from when he was a kid.”

  “It’s hard to imagine that kind of life,” Emily said. “Max didn’t grow up rich.”

  “I don’t think it was as magical as it looks. There’s a lot of family tension.” Kyra made a wry face as she thought of her own mother. “Of course, we poor families have plenty of that, too. But it kind of depresses me that all that beauty and breeding doesn’t make people behave better.”

  “What about Will? Did you enjoy his company after all these years?” Emily watched her over the rim of her mug as she took a sip.

  Kyra swallowed a laugh. She’d enjoyed him all right. “We got along so well that we’re having dinner together—alone—tonight.”

  “I’m so glad. Sometimes the second time around is better because you have a shared history.”

  “You would know.” Emily had met her fiancé, Max, eight years before, when he was a newly graduated PhD working as a civilian consultant with the Marine Corps. But she’d been happily married to another man then, and Max had never let on that he was in love with her—Emily had no idea. But Emily’s husband, a captain in the Marines, had been killed in action four years ago, so when she and Max reconnected last Christmas, he had wooed her into marrying him. Everyone at the center felt Emily deserved to be happy, and Max certainly did a good job of that.

  In fact, he was slated to be officially inducted as a director on the center’s board next week, and Kyra was planning a splurge buffet of special hors d’oeuvres to celebrate.

  “What do you think of Will now?” Emily asked. “Has he changed?”

  She thought Will had an incredible body and very skillful hands, but that wasn’t appropriate to share with her boss. She flattened her palms on the stainless steel countertop. “I’d guess it’s a little like your Max. I knew Will when he was a college student. Now he runs a billion-dollar company. That kind of power and responsibility has to change you, but I don’t understand in what ways yet.” She shrugged. “Being at a large party with people you’ve never met before isn’t the best venue for getting to know someone better.”

  Emily smiled. “I’m glad you’re giving him a chance.”

  “I feel like it’s more that he’s giving me a chance.” Kyra shook her head. “He’s handsome and rich and charming and smart. He could have any woman he wants.”

  And a woman he didn’t want. Petra still threw a shadow over Will, whether he acknowledged it or not.

  “But he chose you to take to a family party. That says something.”

  “It says that he wanted someone undemanding so there would be no extra stress.”

  “I don’t think that’s the only reason he asked you,” Emily said. “But I’ll let you figure that out for yourself.”

  Kyra jumped off the stool. “Let me get your jewelry. That way I won’t be nervous about losing it any longer.”

  She retrieved the velvet bag from the half-empty cereal box in the pantry where she’d stashed it, checking that all three pieces were still there.

  “I appreciate your trusting me with these,” Kyra said, as she placed the bag carefully on the counter beside Emily.

  “Feel free to borrow them any time.” Emily dropped the bag in her blazer pocket and stood. “Diego says Shaq’s new diet is a success. Thank you again for cooking for a whole new species.”

  “It wasn’t much of a challenge as far as taste buds go. That dog will eat anything. But I’m happy that it helped his digestion settle down.”

  “You’ll probably get mo
re requests for custom dog food.” Emily looked concerned. “Every kid thinks his or her dog is special.”

  “I don’t mind since the dogs don’t complain about the menu,” Kyra said. “I’m already working on how to get canned pumpkin by the case because Diego says it would help all the K-9 Angelz.”

  “Don’t feel obligated to do that. You’ve already found so many innovative ways to stretch the food budget. I don’t know how you do it.”

  “Honestly, it’s an interesting task. Many of the local merchants want to help out the center, so this is the perfect way for them to do that without having to part with cash that they can’t really afford to give up. It’s a win-win.” Kyra wrinkled her nose. “I sound like some kind of obnoxious MBA.”

  “You sound dedicated and passionate, two qualities I treasure in the folks who work here.” Emily gave her a brief hug and left Kyra to her pizza making.

  Unfortunately, the repetitive washing and chopping allowed her mind to drift, and as always it chose Will as its destination.

  There had been no opportunity to talk about what had happened between them because of Schuyler’s presence. Maybe that was for the best. Kyra needed time to absorb the sudden intimacy of their relationship and the fact that Will wanted to see her again.

  She felt out of her depth, especially now that she’d had a glimpse into Will’s personal world. It was a long way from her family’s tiny prefab ranch house in the sticks of Pennsylvania, where her father worked in the Mack Trucks factory and her mother was a part-time school secretary. Not that her childhood had been hard in the material sense, but she had no need for a fancy golf cart to tool around the family estate.

  Did growing up with Will’s kind of privilege make him a different person? He had seemed so approachable in college. It was only his extraordinary attractiveness that appeared to set him above her then. Now that she’d seen where he came from, the distance between them looked like the Grand Canyon. Not to mention the fact that he was insanely wealthy, a feat he’d accomplished by himself.

  Damn, he was intimidating.