Still The One

by Joan Reeves

  "I never got a chance to meet your sister, but I find it difficult to believe you didn’t outshine her."

  His praise warmed her. Or was it the effects of the alcohol? "Missy never comes home much. She's been in Paris going on eight years now."

  "She couldn't possibly hold a candle to you."

  "I swear it’s true. I went on a diet before school began and started jogging. I hated running though. So I decided to just cut calories until I lost the weight. By graduation I had done it, mostly by will power and starvation."

  "Isn’t that bad for the body?" He frowned.

  "It is. You lose weight, but then you tend to regain it immediately. In my case, I was so paranoid about staying thin, that I did stupid things to keep the weight off. Believe me, you don’t want to know."

  "But you’re still not doing that, are you?" He seemed worried.

  "No. Fortunately, after we split up, I came to my senses. It took a long time, but I learned to eat healthy foods and most importantly, I learned to love exercise." She looked down, embarrassed.

  "Funny. When I quit starving myself and started living a healthy lifestyle, I stopped seeing myself as a fat girl. Before that, every time I looked in the mirror, that chubby girl looked back at me." She wanted to tell him that had been the source of all her insecurities, but, she figured if he couldn't connect the dots, she wasn't going to bare her naked soul to him.

  "I just can’t picture you that way. When I saw you on the beach that day we met you just took my breath away."

  Ally wanted to tell him that was how she had felt too.

  "I guess you’re one of those diet success stories. You never gained the weight back?"

  "I tried when we first divorced," Ally confessed.

  "How?"

  "I pigged out or tried to, but I had lost my fondness for binging. Now when I'm eating my emotions, I recognize what I'm doing. I've gained a few pounds over the years, but I think that’s because I have more muscle now."

  "And it looks great on you," Burke said, warmly.

  Ally was nonplused by his compliment. "Thank you," she said. Ally could have kissed him for his compliment. It meant more to her than it should.

  Burke leaned toward her. He reached out and laid the palm of his hand on her cheek. "Beautiful Ally," he said.

  "Hey, Burke-man, get your hands off my woman," Preston said from behind them.

  Ally jumped. Burke stiffened. "Who says she’s your woman?"

  "Why she does! That’s why she called and asked me down here. She was lonesome for me." He winked. "Know what I mean?"

  Ally wanted to strangle Preston. The man’s timing was abominable. She was going to have to talk to him about his lover act of his.

  "Oh, I know exactly what you mean," Burke said. He'd like to strangle the man. He told himself he didn't care, but his heart was heavy. He couldn't stay here and watch Ally and her boyfriend. He stood and dug in his pants pocket for his keys. He tossed them down in front of Ally.

  "Why don’t you take the Jag home so Pierce can pick up his car. I’ll get Tiffany to drop me off after. . . ." His voice trailed off suggestively.

  Ally turned to Preston with a smile so brilliant it hurt her face. "Great idea. Let’s go now, Preston, so we'll have the rest of the evening together."

  "Whatever you say, Ally Cat."

  Burke ground his teeth together. He hated that man calling his wife that revolting nickname. "Fine," Burke said. He walked over and pulled Tiffany’s chair out.

  "What?" Tiffany sputtered, spilling the drink she’d been sipping when Burke had suddenly jerked her chair backwards.

  * * *

  Frederick's lover welcomed him when he arrived. He took the glass of red wine she offered, leaned back on her couch, and sighed.

  "Tired, Freddy?" she asked softly.

  He lifted her hand. "It is a bit of a drive down here."

  "But I'm worth it. Right?" she teased.

  "Absolutely." He sipped the wine. His eyes never left her dark ones. "So how do you think it's going?"

  Her brow wrinkled. "I don't know, Freddy. I'm beginning to wonder if this was a good idea."

  "Don't wonder. This was the best idea I ever had. Those two belong together. I know my grandson. I know what he went through after they split up. He needs her. This will work."

  She laughed. "If you say so."

  "Well, that and some good sex will do the trick." He grinned, his eyes brightening. He stroked her hair. "Speaking of that," he lifted his brows questioningly.

  "I thought you were tired." Her smile widened.

  "Darlin', I'm never too tired for that."

  "Men!" She said in mock disgust then threw her arms around him.

  * * *

  Tiffany was silent as she drove Burke home, and she wished Burke would follow suit. He was more like a sputtering, seething volcano.

  "I cannot believe the nerve of that teenage Romeo," Burke seethed, fiddling with the radio dial.

  "Who are you talking about?" Tiffany asked, braking for the turn into Burke’s subdivision.

  "Ally's boyfriend, that's who!" Burke snapped the radio off.

  "He's not a teenager."

  "She’s old enough to be his. . . his older sister."

  "And I'm a couple of years older than Ally," Tiffany said with a doleful sigh.

  "What’s that got to do with anything?" Burke asked. Without waiting for an answer, he ranted, "The way they were whispering and nuzzling each other at the table turned my stomach. Can’t they wait until they get behind closed doors to carry on like that?"

  "Did I misunderstand?" Tiffany asked softly. Her brow wrinkled in confusion. "I thought he felt the same thing I was feeling."

  "What does she see in that kid?" Burke asked, ignoring what Tiffany said.

  "Maybe if your wife hadn’t encouraged him, then he wouldn’t have behaved so outrageously. A woman sets the tone of a relationship. I’d say your wife plays fast and loose."

  "Tiffany, did I ever tell you that you talk to much?"

  * * *

  "Did you see the way Tiffany acted?" Ally demanded, grinding the gears of the Jag as she shifted into high.

  Preston winced. "Those things aren’t made of rubber, Ally. Take it easy on the poor car."

  Ally withered him with a glance. "And you! How do you explain yourself, mister?"

  "What do you mean?" Preston asked. "I was just playing up to you to make your old man jealous. That is what you really wanted me here for, isn’t it?"

  "I don’t mean that charade. I mean you fawning all over Tiffany. Isn’t it enough that she has Burke wound around her little finger without my best friend falling for her too?"

  Preston laughed. "Let’s put a little perspective to this picture. What has you most upset? My flirting with Tiffany or Burke flirting with her all night?"

  "To think he tried to convince me that his wedding to her was a marriage of convenience." She downshifted, and the transmission groaned in protest.

  "I don’t know who I feel sorrier for," Preston said. "You or this poor car."

  Chapter 12

  Ally watched Preston drive away in the convertible Mustang. At least he'd had the good fortune to get a decent car at the rental agency. Maybe if she'd been equally lucky, she'd have been able to get back to the airport and wouldn't be in this predicament now. She turned to go, but paused when headlights swung into the driveway.

  Oh, no. Burke. And Tiffany. She hoped they hadn't seen her. She dashed inside, not wanting to witness their goodnight kiss. Or something even worse.

  Maybe if she stayed in her room and didn't see Burke again until the night of Sakamoto's party, she'd be able to keep her dignity intact and defeat the green-eyed monster who sought possession of her. It was as if the past six years had ceased to exist. Just being around him had re-awakened all her feelings for him. The good ones and the bad ones. At least she recognized her unreasonable emotions now.

  The only thing that had saved her so far was that Burke had
n't tried to seduce her. Except for this morning when she'd surprised him by the bed, he'd seemed completely immune to whatever had once drawn them together. She, on the other hand, was like one giant, throbbing, lust bomb. Why hadn't once tried anything with her? Was she that undesirable?

  "Face it, Ally Fletcher," she muttered as she climbed the stairs to her room. "You're miserable around him and miserable away from him. In short, you're just a mess."

  Exhausted, Ally decided on a shower and bed. That was better than listening for the murmur of voices from downstairs. She didn't want to know what was going on in the great room, or worse yet, in Burke's gigantic master suite.

  Unfortunately, two hours later, Ally still found herself tossing and turning. The warm shower hadn't helped. Counting sheep wasn't effective. They all turned into randy goats! Maybe a glass of milk would do the trick. She tossed the covers back.

  * * *

  Burke lifted the jug of milk from the refrigerator just as the kitchen light flickered on.

  "Oh, I didn't know you were up," Ally said, tightening the belt of her crinkle-cotton robe. Her pulse leaped at the sight of Burke, clad only in a pair of jeans that rode low on his lean hips. His feet were bare. So was his chest. His chest was, she closed her eyes a moment. Delectable. Her eyes opened and feasted on the expanse of tanned skin. When she became aware that he was taking note of her gaze, she quickly looked away.

  "I was thirsty," he said. "Thought I'd get some milk. Want some?"

  Ally swallowed. She certainly did want some. But not milk. Milk? What if he kissed her? She'd have milk breath. "Maybe some water."

  Burke returned the milk to the fridge. Ally felt a blush creeping up her face and hoped he didn't notice. They both turned and reached for the cupboard door at the same time. His arm brushed across her breasts.

  Ally jumped back.

  "Sorry," he mumbled.

  "No problem." She fumbled with her belt, untied it then retied it, pulling the sash so tight it hurt. Darn her blasted hormones!

  Burke filled two glasses with water from the fridge and handed her one along with a paper napkin.

  "Thanks." She should go back to her room, she knew. Instead, she pulled out a chair at the breakfast table and sat down, ignoring her own common sense.

  Burke noticed her hands were shaking. He joined her at the table, wiping his suddenly clammy hands on his jeans. He was afraid to open his mouth for fear he'd ask her to join him in bed. The silence was so deep he figured she could hear him swallow as he gulped his water.

  Ally watched Burke's throat as he swallowed. Her eyes slid down his throat to his shoulders. She loved his shoulders. Looking at him made her tingle in parts of her body that hadn't tingled in an awfully long time.

  She turned her glass of water around and around. She wasn't thirsty any more. At least not for water. She was parched for the feel of his mouth on hers, for his hands on her body, for the sensation of his skin beneath her hands.

  "Whew!" Ally picked up the napkin and blotted her forehead. "It's warm in here."

  "Now that you mention it, you're right." Burke grabbed his napkin and blotted his own forehead. "Why don't we step out onto the patio? It's always cool at night out by the pool."

  "Sounds good," Ally said.

  Burke led her through the great room, his brain spinning fast and furious as he schemed. When they got to the hall way that led to his bedroom, Ally halted.

  "Can't we go out through the French doors in the great room?"

  "I've got the alarm set for those, but it's bypassed for the ones in my bedroom," he explained.

  "Oh. Okay."

  She bought it. Relieved, he flipped on the lights in the hallway. He knew he couldn't impress her with his etchings, he mused. She hadn't liked the artwork a bit. Maybe his body would do the trick.

  They entered his bedroom. After one quick glance at the king-sized bed with its rumpled covers, Ally averted her eyes. She was having enough trouble with her wayward thoughts without that stimulus. She needed to fight this attraction. But she was so weak. And he was so magnetic.

  "Hey, want to go swimming?" Burke asked.

  "I don't have a suit."

  "So?" He arched one brow, giving him a decidedly rakish expression.

  Ally inhaled quickly. "I think I should go back to my own bed."

  "Why? What's the matter? Are you afraid you can't control your impulses?"

  Ally stiffened. "I don't have any trouble controlling mine," she lied. "I just don't want you thinking that we're going to engage in any hanky-panky."

  "Hanky panky?" He hooted. "That sounds like a phrase our grandparents would use."

  He didn't fool Ally. She suddenly sensed the real reason he had lured her to his room. And it wasn't to exit from the French doors in here. She shook all over. With indignation, she told herself. Not with longing. She couldn't give that power to him.

  "Burke Winslow, I have a flash for you. I am not sleeping with you."

  Burke felt his control slip a notch. She didn't seem to have a problem being overly-friendly with Pearsall. "Well, I have a flash for you, Ally Cat. I didn't ask you to."

  "Good. Because I'm not." Somehow, she didn't feel as triumphant as she should. His flat refusal bothered her. "But in case I was interested, which I'm not, why do you say no?" She walked over to the wall and flipped one of the switches. Lights came on beyond the pool, highlighting the towering trees in back.

  Burke walked over to where she stood and flipped another switch. Suddenly lights inside the pool glowed, turning it into a sparkling jewel.

  "Beautiful," Ally said.

  "As I recall," Burke said, "when we were married, we didn't exactly burn up the sheets so what makes you think I want to revisit that particular stretch of memory lane?" There was more than one way to skin a cat, as Granddad said, Burke decided, slyly.

  His words troubled Ally. She flipped another switch. Soft music poured from hidden speakers. Soft, haunting, music swirled through the room. Great. This was just what she needed, she thought, a soundtrack for seduction. Suddenly, she realized how precarious her emotions were. She started to flip that switch off, but Burke's hand covered hers.

  "Leave it," he said softly.

  Ally's heart pounded so hard, she was certain he could hear it. Her breathing became ragged. She felt the heat rising from his body.

  "Funny," she said, unable to resist his challenge. She dashed foolhardily into trouble. "I remember our time in bed differently. You couldn't keep your hands off me."

  Burke reached out and touched the curve of her cheek with his index finger. He stroked down the smooth skin. "Poor Ally. You must have amnesia. You and I just didn't click when it came to sex." His finger continued down her throat and stopped at the barrier of her robe

  Ally imitated his gesture except she didn't stop the movement of her finger at his throat. Her finger slid slowly down his chest, every nerve cell in the tip of it screaming in desire as she traced a line from his cheek to his chest, over a hard nub of a nipple and down, dipping in his navel, and sliding to a stop at the low-slung waist of his jeans.

  She knew she was playing with fire, but she couldn't stop herself. "Perhaps you're the one with the selective memory."

  Burke groaned and gasped, "In your dreams, sweetheart." He sucked in his breath, his jeans loosened and Ally's finger slid obligingly into the slight space, slid another inch and stopped when her fingertip met his hot, damp erection.

  He wasn't wearing any underwear. Her heart slammed against her ribs, and the pulse pounded low in her belly. She spoke with great effort. The words came out low, husky with want. "Not my dreams, babe," she teased.

  She could hardly stand, her knees trembled so. Her body felt as if she were going up in flames. She trembled and couldn't stop if her life depended on it. "I don't lose any sleep dreaming about you and me in bed," she whispered.

  "Your bed or mine?" Burke gasped.

  "Yours. It's closer." She untied her robe and flung it aside.

/>   "Oh, Ally!" Burke gathered her into his arms and kissed her like she'd never been kissed before. He lifted her and carried her over to the huge bed, laying her carefully in the center as if she were a porcelain doll who would break.

  Then his control shattered. Ally felt as if she were caught in a whirlwind. Her gown vanished as quickly as his jeans, and then, finally, she had what she wanted. His weight crushing her into the mattress. His skin next to hers.

  His touch was all that she remembered. All that she'd missed so many lonely nights. His kisses took her breath away. Her hands were as frantic as his. The only thing she could think of was having him inside her.

  Ally rolled over and assumed the superior position. She wasn't shy about telling him what she wanted. Demanding what she wanted. Pressing her hot, wet sex against his hard-on. Telling him where she wanted to be touched.

  "Your wish is my command," Burke whispered, delighting in how self-assured she was. Though he had lied when he'd said they hadn't had great sex when they'd been married, it had never been like this. So hot. Explosive. Suddenly, he realized that Ally had never wanted the lights on. She'd always been hesitant except in the darkness.

  With the outside lights illuminating the bedroom, it was like having the lights on. "Do you want the lights off?" he whispered.

  "No," Ally gasped. "I like seeing you."

  "And I like seeing you too." His hands cupped her breasts and teased her hardened nipples. "You're beautiful," he whispered, knowing now that she'd been insecure about her body then. Now she was an equal partner. He wanted only to be inside her yet at the same time, he wanted to cherish her, wrap her in his arms and apologize for being so ignorant before. But he couldn't go slow any more than she could. They were frantic with each other.

  Ally raised up on her knees and guided him into her. She gasped and paused. Burke groaned and gripped her hips. He pulled her down to him and kissed her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. Then he moved, reversing their positions until she was on the bottom. He came more fully into her.