'Tis the Season

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'Tis the Season Page 22

by Jennifer Gracen


  The unexpected words struck her like a physical blow. She drew back, still trembling. “I’m not doing that.”

  “You are; you just don’t realize it. The thing is, you’re punishing yourself too. A thousand times more.” His hands were on her upper arms now, not letting her out of his grasp. “You’ve punished yourself for trusting and believing in him. You’ve punished yourself for loving someone who turned out to be a selfish bastard. You’ve punished yourself”—his voice dropped to a whisper—“for losing the baby. I know you have. Because I know you now.”

  She felt the blood drain from her face, and a violent shiver ran over her skin.

  “Jesus, you’re shaking like a leaf,” he said. “Come here.” He pulled her against him, holding her close and rubbing her back, her arms. “Shhhh. It’s all right.”

  “N-no, it’s not,” she said. “I put everything at risk when I chose this path, and if it all blows up in my face, I have no one to blame but myself. I guess I’m just trying to steel myself for that.”

  “Christ, you’re so hard on yourself.” He kissed her temple and continued to rub her back. “Why do you have to live like a monk because some bad things happened? You put yourself in isolation; no one did that to you. It’s time to come out.”

  She couldn’t speak, her throat thick with emotion. She just shook her head.

  “Lisette. Sweetheart . . .” He kissed the top of her head and spoke to her in a velvety tone. “You’re a young, beautiful woman with a tremendous heart. So much to give. You have a man in front of you right now who’s crazy about you, who’s doing everything he can to convince you his feelings are true and his intentions are good. I know it’s scary. I’m taking a leap here too. So take the chance. You’re already halfway there. Stop blocking your own path, and be happy.” He squeezed her, a hug filled with affection. “Hopefully, be happy with me, but either way, be happy again. Find a way; let yourself. You deserve that.”

  Something inside her broke apart. She closed her eyes and buried her face in his chest, the tears sliding down her face as she clung to him. He understood her better than she’d imagined, and cared more than she’d allowed herself to acknowledge. Even now, as she trembled and cried, his hands swept up and down her back, meant to soothe and comfort. It felt so good. It felt like a lifeline. No one had held her like this since . . . God, she couldn’t remember when. She cried quietly, the tears falling as she tried to take deep breaths.

  “I’m not going to leave,” he whispered. “I don’t want to leave you. I’m in this as deep as you are.”

  “God, Charles, I’m scared; I admit it. I’ve made a safe little bubble around myself, and you’re trying to breach it.”

  “Damn right I am,” he said, running his hand over her hair. “Just take the leap. I’ll catch you; I swear.”

  Her arms tightened around him as the tears kept falling. “You’re wonderful.”

  “Thanks.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “You are too.”

  “Then why can’t I stop crying?” she sobbed.

  “Because maybe you’re finally hearing me,” he said, “and you don’t want to be numb anymore. So cry all you need to. I’m here.” He held her close as she cried; he soothed her, caressed her, kissed her. “I know we can make each other happy, Lisette.”

  “You already make me happy,” she said, sniffling.

  “And to think I’ve barely tried,” he said. She had to grin at the teasing note in his voice. “Imagine once I start really pulling out all the stops. I’ll sweep you off your feet.”

  “You’ve already swept me off my feet,” she whispered. She pulled back to look up at him. “Just by being you.”

  He wiped the tears from her cheeks, then lowered his mouth to take hers.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Tuesday morning, Charles woke slowly, feeling the heated naked body beside him and reaching to pull her closer before even opening his eyes. Lisette made the tiniest happy noise and snuggled into his side. They wrapped their arms around each other, a tight cocoon of warmth and affection in the tremendous bed.

  He let himself lie still, not fully awake yet, and just savor the moment. Their time at the ski house had been perfection, everything he’d wanted. Since they’d arrived on Saturday night, he and Lisette had spent their time making love, holding each other, and talking, eating, or sleeping. They’d ventured out each day for a walk outside, breathing in the crisp mountain air and admiring the views around them. On Monday afternoon, they’d gone downtown and done some Christmas shopping. But the rest of the time, they had been in the house, in front of one fireplace or another, exploring each other’s bodies, minds, and hearts.

  She finally trusted him and their feelings for each other. At least, he thought she did.

  He didn’t want to fly back home that evening. He wanted to stay there with her like this forever. Feeling her in his arms, feeling her soft warm breath against his chest as she slept peacefully . . . When they returned home, it would be back to secret trysts in his room after the kids were asleep. Now that he knew how fantastic it felt to watch her sleep and to wake up with her, he hated to have to give that up.

  It wouldn’t be forever; he knew that. As they got more solid, eventually they would get to the point when they could tell the kids—and the world—that they were truly together. It would happen, and sooner rather than later. Because if he had thought he might be falling in love with her before this trip, he now knew with total certainty that he had. It didn’t scare him to admit that. He wanted to shout it from the rooftops: I’m in love, people! I never thought I’d fall in love again, and I’m in love, dammit! And she’s amazing. He just wasn’t sure when to admit it to her.

  This weekend Lisette had finally really let him in. He’d seen her grow more comfortable with him every day, and the bond they shared had strengthened. It was powerful, and so sweet it made him ache.

  He’d even started thinking ahead. He could see Lisette at his side, in his life . . . and yes, being a real mother to his children. Hell, in a lot of ways, she already was, but once she was free to openly shower them with her love instead of holding it back to be professional? My God, they’d all thrive from that. The kids, her, and even him.

  He wanted a future with her. He wanted it all.

  But he still had three children to think about, and their welfare came first, even before his happiness. He’d have to tread with caution.

  “Mmmm . . .” Lisette groaned as she stirred.

  His hand slid along her arm as he kissed her mouth lightly. “Good morning,” he whispered.

  “Good morning,” she whispered back, snuggling even closer.

  He trailed soft kisses along her face, her jaw, her neck. Her fingers ran through his hair as he nibbled at the soft spot at her nape. “I’m going to make you breakfast.”

  She chuckled, a raspy sound. “As in, make me breakfast? Or make food for us?”

  “Both,” he said with a wicked grin. Continuing to devour her neck, his hands glided over her warm, smooth skin, stopping to cup and squeeze her breasts before traveling lower.

  “I’m not even awake yet,” she breathed as his fingers feathered along her thighs.

  “I know,” he said. “Which is why I’m waking you up properly.”

  “Mmmm, you are.” She smiled, then her breath hitched as his fingers brushed over her most sensitive spot. “Ohh . . .”

  Her ragged sigh fired his blood, heating it in his veins. He began to stroke her slowly as he kissed her mouth, then slid a finger into her wet folds, loving how she squirmed and gasped with pleasure. The little mewling sounds she made sent shimmers of electricity racing over his skin. “You like that?” he whispered in her ear, husky and low.

  “Yes,” she gasped as her hips moved with the rhythm his fingers set. “Oh, God, yes. Don’t stop . . .”

  “Not until you scream for me,” he whispered, nipping at her lobe. A low moan fluttered out of her, and her arms snaked around him, her nails biting into his sho
ulders as she crushed her mouth to his. Their tongues tangled, and her hands roamed over his back, then down in between to reach for him. When her fingers closed around his hard shaft, he groaned, grinding into her hand. “You feel how hard I am for you?”

  “Yes,” she breathed, kissing him. “I love feeling you . . .”

  He rolled to position himself at her opening, teasing along her slickness with his hard cock and drawing a long, shuddering moan out of her.

  “I need you now,” she said urgently. “Now, Charles . . . please, now.”

  He grabbed her hips and thrust into her hard, burying himself to the hilt. Her cry of ecstasy filled him with electric pleasure as her legs closed around him, and he pushed deep inside her, claiming her. He thrust again, and again, possessing her, loving her erotic gasps and sounds. “Oh, Lisette . . .” Another hard thrust, then another, another, and he was rewarded with her low moans of sweet surrender. “Tell me you’re mine,” he rasped.

  “I’m yours,” she whispered against his lips. “All yours.”

  “Yeah, you are.” His hips rolled as he pumped inside her, over and over, and her nails dug into his skin as she cried out. Her eyes slipped closed in bliss. He sucked in a breath as he stared down at her, her beautiful face flushed from passion. “Christ, sweetheart, you feel so good.”

  “So do you . . .” Her head fell back as she lost herself to him, and he devoured the soft skin at her throat. Then his hands swept her hair back and cradled her face.

  “Look at me,” he commanded.

  She looked into his eyes as they moved together.

  “You’re mine,” he panted, straining over her. A light sheen of sweat coated their skin. “And I’m yours.”

  “Yes, Charles, oh, God, yes . . .” Her hands clutched at him, moving down his back to grab his ass and push him even deeper inside her.

  He thrust harder, faster, driven by high emotion and the powerful sensations rippling through him. The air around them felt electric. As he whispered her name like a fervent prayer, their bodies rocked together, the pace growing more urgent, frantic, until they climaxed together, moaning and gasping and shuddering as the waves of intense pleasure swept them away.

  When their breathing slowed, they lay together kissing and caressing for a long time, whispering words of affection and devotion.

  “I don’t ever want to get out of this bed,” he finally said, “but I’m starving.”

  “I’ll make breakfast,” she said.

  “We can do it together,” he said. “Faster that way.” He grinned and kissed her once more before rolling away to rise from the bed.

  She sat up, then stopped. He was already in his robe at the door when he turned back. She was still sitting in bed where he’d left her. “You coming?”

  “In a minute,” she whispered, her eyes closed.

  He realized her face was pale, and she was holding herself still. A lick of concern washed through him. “You okay, honey?”

  “I . . . I just sat up too fast,” she whispered. “I’m a little dizzy.”

  He swore under his breath and crossed back. “You probably need to eat,” he said as he sat on the bed. His weight made the mattress shift slightly.

  “Don’t move,” she gasped, and swallowed hard.

  “Sweetheart,” he said, the concern sharpening in his gut. “What’s wrong?”

  She threw the covers back, bolted from the bed, and ran to the bathroom. By the time he was on his feet, he could hear her retching. He went to her, crouching behind her to pull back her thick hair as she vomited into the toilet. It passed quickly; she was done in a minute, reaching up with a shaky hand to flush. He grabbed a tissue as she leaned back against him, and he wiped her mouth.

  “I’m so sorry,” she mumbled. “And embarrassed. Really romantic, huh?”

  “Stop it,” he reprimanded softly. “You need to eat something. Toast, some tea.”

  She nodded and moved to stand. He helped her to her feet, staring with concern as he watched her go to the sink. His jaw felt tight, and he consciously unclenched it. She rinsed her mouth before turning back to him.

  “Stop looking so worried,” she said, trying to break the tension. “I just sat up too fast. It happens sometimes in the mornings. Low blood sugar, low blood pressure . . .”

  “This happens to you?” he asked.

  “Sure. You just didn’t know because you don’t wake up with me.”

  He continued to watch her like a hawk as she brushed her teeth. When she finished, she turned to him with a smile. The color had returned to her face.

  “See?” she said cheerfully. “I’m fine now.”

  He slanted a sideways look. “You sure?”

  “Yes. You’re right; I just need to eat. Toast to start. Come on.” She went to him, slid her arms around his waist, and kissed his neck. “You really are a true gentleman. Holding my hair back while I puked, sitting naked on your bathroom floor. I’m embarrassed, but I have to admit I’m touched at the same time. Thanks for that.”

  He still stared at her. Something was off. He felt it in his gut.

  “Charles, I’m fine!” she insisted. “I sat up too fast; that’s all. It happens more often than I like to admit. I just need to eat now.” She stepped back and moved to the closet. Pulling out the plush rust-colored robe she’d used all weekend, she slipped it on and pulled the sash tight around her waist. “Stop looking at me like that!”

  “I’m concerned for you,” he said. “If you get sick like that from sitting up too fast, due to low blood pressure or whatever, have you ever seen a doctor about it?”

  “Um, no,” she said, fidgeting with the end of the sash.

  “Then you’re going to when we get home,” he demanded.

  She tilted her head, and her gaze sharpened. “Excuse me?”

  “Lisette,” he began.

  “No. Stop. Charles . . . when I’m the nanny, on the job, you can tell me what to do,” she said curtly. “When I’m your lover, off the clock, you can’t. Ever. You can’t pull rank. I know you’re used to people doing whatever you say. But when we’re like this, I have to be your equal, or this will never work.”

  His jaw clenched. “I wasn’t trying to tell you what to do. I didn’t mean it like a command.”

  “Did you even hear me?” Her stare held. “If this has any chance, you have to treat me like an equal when we’re together. When the kids are around, yes, you’re the boss. When we’re like this . . . you aren’t. I’m serious.”

  “I hear you.” He paused, then nodded and sighed. “You’re right, of course. I apologize. Really, I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you.” She still watched him, her posture tense.

  “I didn’t mean to be dictatorial . . . I just want to know you’re okay.” His eyes traveled over her as his mind worked. “It might just be a blood pressure thing. Or low blood sugar. Or it could even be an equilibrium issue, or—”

  “Let’s discuss it over breakfast,” she said. “Okay, Dr. Harrison? Come on.” She turned away and exited the bathroom, effectively ending the discussion.

  Frowning, he scrubbed a hand over his face before following her to the kitchen.

  * * *

  By Thursday evening, Lisette felt as if her weekend away with Charles had been a long time ago. Everything had gone back to the regular routine—she, busy with the kids; he, busy running an empire. That afternoon, he’d called to tell her something had come up and he had to fly to the Atlanta office for a quick overnight. He wouldn’t be back in the house until late Friday night. She missed him already.

  Their time together in Aspen had been so romantic and wonderful; it felt like recalling a dream when she thought of it. Their quality time alone had sealed them together in a way nothing had before.

  They still had to be discreet. They were in total agreement on that. And she had a few ideas on how to be less vulnerable should things . . . not work out. Things she needed to put in place for herself. But the possibilities for Charles and her, in
the long run . . . the thought of them made her absolutely giddy.

  “Your head’s in the clouds,” Tina teased on Thursday night as they cleaned up dinner together. “Where are you?”

  “What do you mean?” Lisette asked, unable to look her friend in the eye.

  “I know Mr. Harrison said you went upstate to visit your friend Karen,” Tina said. “But since you got back from that, you’ve been floating around with this weird little smile on your face.” Tina’s eyes narrowed. “Did you meet somebody up there?”

  “What? No!” Lisette said, even as she blushed.

  “Ha, right, that’s why you just turned red.” Tina laughed. “Okay, keep secrets from me, fiiiiine.”

  Lisette brought the last of the dishes to the wide double sink and put them in the left basin; Tina was working on a huge pot in the right basin. “I just . . . I’ll tell you as soon as I can, I promise.”

  Tina’s eyes flew wide. “You did meet someone!”

  “Kind of,” Lisette mumbled, hating having to lie to her friend. “I swear I’ll tell you everything eventually. Just please don’t ask me anymore right now.”

  Tina cursed a long streak in Spanish, making Lisette laugh. “Whatever it is,” Tina said, “I’m happy if you’re happy.”

  “I am happy,” Lisette said quietly. “It scares the hell out of me, but I am.”

  “Don’t be scared. You deserve to be happy. Enjoy it.” Tina went to put the pot in the dish rack, and a fork fell to the floor with a noisy clang.

  “I got it.” Lisette bent over to get the fork . . . and the room spun around her. She tried to grab onto the counter, but there was a roaring in her ears and her vision dimmed. She heard Tina say her name . . . then everything went black.

  “C’mon.” Tina’s voice. She sounded worried. “Open your eyes, mama.”

  Slowly Lisette opened her eyes. She was lying on the kitchen floor, her head in Tina’s lap. “What . . .”

  “Okay, good, you’re with me.” Tina stared down at her, then switched to Spanish. “Dios mio, Lisette—you scared the shit out of me!”

 

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