by Cait London
Jessica understood the danger in the set of Alexi’s body—that firm, dangerous stare. She eased away from Howard. “Howard, you’d better leave.”
“Who is this jerk?” Howard demanded. “The handyman? You can wait for your orders in the kitchen.”
Alexi’s nod was almost polite. “My name is Alexi Stepanov, and now you will remove yourself…or I will do it for you.”
“No one talks to me that way. This is my father’s house.” But Howard was sizing up Alexi’s stance and moving past him to the door. He paused and sneered at Jessica. “So this is your lover. Some cowboy who wants my father’s money. You finally had an itch for a man, did you? So you bought this guy?”
Alexi tensed, but didn’t move. His voice was deadly quiet, the accent clipping at his words. “Perhaps your father should have taught you manners. It is not too late for a lesson.”
Jessica moved quickly to place her hand on Alexi’s arm, to stay him from hurting Howard. His arm bunched beneath her touch and she could feel the anger vibrating off him. “I’ll talk with you later, Howard.”
But Howard had to have his last shot at her, words wrapped in a sneer that never failed to wound. “You know, Stepanov, she was just a clerk in one of my father’s stores when they met. A poor little backwoods floozy with big hair and big ideas. She got what she wanted—money, social position, this house. Maybe you two suit each other.”
The door slammed behind Howard, filling the room with ominous silence until Audrey opened it and quietly slid out of the room. Jessica walked to her desk and punched an intercom button. “See that Howard is out of the house, will you, Audrey? And lock the door behind him.”
“He’s gone upstairs to his father’s old office. I think he’s waiting for Mr. Stepanov to leave.”
Jessica smiled briefly, coldly. In one way, Howard was totally predictable; he always met her low expectations. “I’ll take care of him later.”
“No, now,” Alexi said darkly. “Which way is upstairs?”
Five
“It’s not good to antagonize Howard. He can get nasty.”
Jessica prepared to tell Alexi that she did not want him protecting her. The scene in her deceased husband’s small upstairs office hadn’t been pleasant. Howard had taken one look at Alexi looming behind her and had pushed out of the room with another parting shot. “I won’t forget this.”
Now Jessica turned from the dismal day outside her downstairs office window to Alexi, who was now seated on the leather sofa. His legs were extended, work boots propped over the daily newspaper on the coffee table. He looked tired, dark circles running beneath his eyes. He leaned back and closed his eyes.
Concerned for him, Jessica came to his side. “Are you all right?”
“I’ve been working hard and this last week the nights have been long. I keep expecting a woman with a flashlight to come walking from the Amoteh.” His hand eased to smooth her thigh, pressing just enough on the loose slacks to find her body. “How long have you been dealing with the way he treats you?”
Jessica moved back just that fraction, uneasy with Alexi’s sensual, stirring touch. “Howard has never acted like that. It was worse today. What about Willow? Have you found out who is bothering her?”
Alexi’s eyes slowly opened to look at her. He took in her smooth chignon, the careful makeup, her loose silk blouse neatly tucked into her flowing slacks and the black low-heeled pumps. “He wants you badly. He wants to own you, to possess you.”
She shrugged lightly. “I know. He’s not getting me. I’m just a challenge to him.”
“You are definitely a challenge—mine.” As if testing her, Alexi moved slightly, just enough to bring him closer; he continued to slowly stroke her thigh and up to her hip, following the curve with his open hand. She eased back once more, unsettled by how much that easy touch could make her ache for more.
Alexi smiled slowly, warmth smoothing away that hard, taut look. “It will be worse now. Now that he knows you have a…‘lover.”’
She crossed her arms. “You just love to push, don’t you? We both know that isn’t true. I’ve been the object of gossip for years. I can hold my own.”
“Of course. You’re very independent. You’re afraid you’ll look weak if someone helps you, aren’t you? You try harder because you’re afraid that you might fail, and failure isn’t allowed?”
His accurate perception startled her. She’d failed with her family and she’d failed with her first marriage, and she’d battled those insecurities all of her life.
With another quick insight into her life, Alexi pinned a deep-rooted problem that Jessica had expressed to no one. “It’s important to make a child feel strong and secure, isn’t it? To love them?”
“I don’t know,” she lied, flashing back to her childhood where she had to scramble for attention. “I’ve never been a parent.”
With a quick movement Alexi’s hand tugged at the back of her knee and she toppled onto him. He caught her and turned her body to cradle her against him. His lips brushed the corner of hers and he whispered unevenly, “So, then, you are happy here? In this big house without me?”
“I have been. Alexi, let me up.” But even as she spoke, her hand was running beneath the heavy flannel-lined denim jacket to the collar of his shirt, seeking entrance to that warm, smooth skin. She had missed him desperately in the past week, her nights as sleepless as his.
“I want to make love to you now, so you won’t forget me,” he said roughly, his head tilting just that bit to capture her hand against his throat.
“But you won’t.”
His whisper against her throat was low and sensual. “I haven’t been invited properly. It is for you to choose.”
The brisk knock on the door signaled Audrey’s entrance with a serving tray. “I thought a man like you could use a meal. I whipped this up myself. I hope it is all right.”
She beamed at Alexi who immediately lifted Jessica and plopped her down beside him on the couch.
Jessica smoothed her hair, shaken by the steamy sensuality that had just passed between them. A man who moved quickly, Alexi’s expression had changed to that of a man eager for food. She inhaled slowly, nettled somehow by the distinct feeling that she was no longer the main course. But that was ridiculous, of course, her mind told her body. She met Alexi’s quick study of her. “You know what you’re doing every minute, don’t you?” she asked unevenly.
“No,” he returned too abruptly. “With you…no.”
Alexi stood to take the large tray from Audrey. “This looks delicious. Thank you.”
A middle-aged woman and happily married for thirty years, Audrey blushed. “My boys were always hungry, too. Mrs. Sterling’s lunch is on the table. Make sure she eats something, will you? She’s been too quiet. Something has been bothering her since she got back last week from her holiday. You’re one of the Stepanovs who make that beautiful furniture, aren’t you? And related to Mikhail Stepanov, who manages the resort where Mrs. Sterling stayed?”
Alexi acknowledged the relationship with a slow nod. “My cousin. There are lots of cousins in our family.”
Before Audrey left the spacious, elegant office, her warm smile at Jessica said she had connected her employer’s restlessness to Alexi. Jessica thought she heard Audrey whisper, “About time.”
Alexi placed the tray on the coffee table and glanced at Jessica, who had settled back to frown at him. “You heard her—eat.”
“Tell me about Willow.”
Jessica watched Alexi place the tray on the table, remove his jacket and sit beside her. As if just remembering, he picked up his jacket and removed a small foil-wrapped package. “Raspberry cookies from my aunt.”
From another pocket, he took a bar of Willow’s ginseng and lemongrass soap. “I smell like a woman. I came to Seattle to collect special hardware for Fadey’s chests and in the store, men smile at me like I am wearing perfume,” he said, the words filled with male disdain.
But Jessica was
holding his wrist and looking at the blisters running across his broad palm. “Give me your other hand.”
She placed the soap aside and held his wrist as she took his other hand. The dark red angry spots on both hands caused her to ache. She searched his expression. “These must be painful. You’re an experienced workman. What happened?”
“Are you coming back with me?” he said quietly, ignoring her question.
Are you coming back to me?
The question was so simple and yet layered with complexities. It caught her, holding her. She’d dreamed of Alexi every night and thinking of him had taken most of her days. It would be so easy to—
Jessica hurried to get the tiny first-aid kit from her desk drawer. Seated beside Alexi, she smoothed antibiotic cream over his hands and bandaged them in gauze. “It isn’t that bad,” he said, watching her. “I was only chopping a little wood.”
“This looks like you chopped a whole woodpile in one try. Tell me about Willow.”
“I was missing you.” He hesitated and toyed with her ear, running a fingertip into that smooth chignon. He eased free a strand to wrap it around his finger, studying the shades. “I think there is a need of you in Amoteh—yes. Are you safe here, Jessica?”
“Yes. I’ve made it quite safe for myself.”
“Your husband’s office. You have kept it the way a man would like.”
“Robert worked as long as he could. Sometimes I think that was what kept him going.”
“You loved him.” It was a statement, not a question, and Jessica slowly nodded.
She looked down at the big hand holding hers, fingers intertwined, dark against pale, male and female, the sharp contrast she always felt with Alexi. Whatever ran between them, it was more elemental than what civilization could conceal. Even now, her senses were leaping, heating, and Alexi was looking intently at her, as though he were catching those sensual waves and they churned his own.
“You’re afraid. I understand. You’ve wrapped yourself in one world, and another would tear this one apart.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But she did and amended, “I’ve never been a gambler.”
Are you coming back with me…to me? had sounded so simple, exploring herself as a woman, grasping with both hands what Alexi could give her—the feeling that she was a woman and not a machine…. The thought beckoned and enticed.
He turned from her to the meal Audrey had just prepared and delivered—a huge glass of milk, a big grilled steak with fried potatoes, a mound of green beans and two slices of buttered Texas toast. The slice of apple pie was actually two pieces that had been warmed, with a mound of ice cream over the top.
He dug into his meal, apparently forgetting Jessica and the drama that had just passed. “I love that woman,” Alexi stated almost worshipfully between bites.
Jessica carried her salad to her desk. She picked at her food and watched Alexi, who was clearly enjoying his meal. Once he had eaten, she’d…she’d invite him to stay. She’d invite him into her bed and rid herself of her need for him. Then it would all be over—that trembling hunger that had just spiked at the sight of Alexi.
While she was sorting through the right words for a proper proposal, Alexi wiped his lips with a napkin and stood. He drew on his jacket and walked to the desk. Jessica held her breath as he looked down at her.
Then he punched the intercom button that read Audrey. “Audrey, I love you. Come visit me at Amoteh. The meal was very good. Thank you. Where should I bring the tray?”
On the other end of the line, Audrey sounded as if she was beaming. “I’ll take care of the tray. You just come back, Mr. Stepanov.”
“You call me Alexi. Please take care of Mrs. Sterling.”
Before Jessica could say anything, Alexi was striding toward the door and opening it. His expression had hardened, those blue eyes cutting at her from across the room. “Thank you for the hospitality and for pointing me to Willow. She’s sweet. Without you, I might never have gotten to know how great she is.”
Jessica stood abruptly. She knew how potent he could be, how tasty, how good Alexi felt to a woman’s body—He would roll over Willow like a steamroller. Willow would be absolutely defenseless against his seduction…. “You leave her alone.”
“Ah. You want me for yourself. Then you will have to come and get me.” Alexi smiled briefly, wolfishly, then closed the door quietly behind him.
“He’s got a high opinion of himself—” In spite of her caution to ignore his taunt, Jessica rounded her desk and flew across the plush office carpet. She jerked open the door and ran straight into Alexi, who had apparently been waiting for her.
She heard her own soft explosion of breath leaving her body as he tugged her hard against his body, his arms wrapping around her, his hands open, pulling her even closer—
She saw his primitive expression before his lips came down to fuse with hers. One hand cradled her head for his kiss, fingers delving deep into her hair, spearing through the pins anchoring it.
She caught his scent—the contrast of Willow’s soap with the dark masculine layers beneath: a blend of smoke and freshly cut wood, and impatience, of sensual hunger. Her arms raised to claim him, her fingers locking on those powerful shoulders, because Alexi wasn’t leaving her, not until she’d taken what she wanted—
With a rough sound of pleasure deep in his throat, Alexi lifted his head for just a heartbeat, his eyes glittering down at her. There was no tenderness in his expression, only the hard demand, and the question—would she answer his hunger?
Or would she deny her chance to feel like a woman, to hold and equal a man’s passion, to experience what other women had known?
Then she was moving into the fire, opening her lips, slanting just that bit to allow for a better fit—her hips moved at the pressure of his open hand, pressing her against him as Alexi moved their bodies back into the office.
A hard nudge of his shoulder shoved the door closed and she heard the click of a lock being turned.
Breathing hard, straining for breath and fighting to step outside this moment to reclaim herself, Jessica saw her hand lift to Alexi’s hard, warm face.
He turned to kiss her palm briefly. “This is what I know,” he whispered unevenly before she raised on tiptoe to kiss him again, to open her fingers through that thick waving hair, to hold him still for what she wanted—for what had simmered in her for days—this taste, this man.
She fed upon those dark, brooding layers, the arrogance, the tenderness, the hunger that matched her own. She pressed her lips against his jaw, felt that snap within him, the lock of his biceps moved against the sides of her breasts, and then Alexi’s big hands were smoothing her body, stroking her hips.
He pulled back and, holding her, looked down at their bodies, pressed close. He studied her face and then eased his hand over her breasts, caressing and cupping them slowly, gently.
Jessica wanted more. More.
She wanted his skin against hers, and her fingers trembled as she eased his jacket away.
Alexi held very still, watching her as she fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, opening it. His breath hissed by her cheek as she bent to nuzzle his bare chest, to kiss that smooth, hot surface, to rub her face against the wedge of hair, inhaling his scent, drawing it into her.
Between their bodies, Alexi’s hands moved, opening the buttons to her silk blouse, tugging it away from her body. She stiffened, her head back, uncertain of herself, and yet the woman within her dared, challenged Alexi to take what he wanted—what she wanted.
Holding her eyes, Alexi unfastened her bra and, uncertain now, Jessica’s hand pressed the lace close to conceal her body. He bent slowly and nuzzled her body, her breasts, as she had done for him, and his open lips moved across her skin, burning it, until they found that hard peak of her nipple.
Alexi’s mouth was warm and gentle, and waves of heat pounded at Jessica, her body trembling as she watched his dark skin, his hair, move against her pale
skin. She forced away her hand and dropped the protection of lace, allowing him more access, her body clenching with each tug of his lips, each gentle bite.
With a rough sound, Alexi tugged free the button of her slacks, impatient with a second button, tearing it away to find her zipper.
Slowly, so slowly, while his lips teased hers, he stroked the slacks from her hips. They fell to her feet and Jessica arched up against Alexi’s body as she stepped free of her clothing.
There in the shadowy, elegant office, with the rain pattering softly at the window, Alexi looked down at her body, at the champagne lace on her boy-cut briefs. Shaking with need, fearing what ran deep and wild inside her, Jessica tried to cover her breasts with her arm, but Alexi eased it away. “I want to look at you,” he whispered.
Then he added gently, “You’re embarrassed.”
“We’re in my office and it’s hardly the place—”
“That’s not it. The windows have a privacy film and there is no one but you and I here…. Have you never had a man look at you?”
She shook her head, trembling now, uncertain of herself. She leaned her forehead against his chest, unable to meet his eyes, to explain. “No.”
Alexi held her away from him and tilted her face up to his. “You have been married twice.”
She tried to laugh but it came out unsteadily. “It’s been a long time.”
It had been forever….
“Tell me.” Alexi eased her against him and Jessica wrapped her arms around his body, fearing to open herself to him, to reopen her past. He smoothed her hair, kissed her cheek and caressed her back.
“There’s too much.” Where could she start? As a hungry, untended child? As a teenager who thought marriage would take her away from her family? From her first husband, who roughly fumbled through their wedding night and bragged about it to his friends? Or to Robert, who had only touched her with tenderness and pride?
Her emotions churned within her, because this one man had touched her deep inside, to that delicate softness she’d protected for a lifetime. She wanted to feel everything all at once with Alexi—every hunger, every caress—to allow herself to open fully, to demand—