Harlequin Superromance November 2014 - Box Set 2 of 2: Christmas at the CoveNavy ChristmasUntil She Met Daniel

by Rachel Brimble

  Armando had scared the wits out of her last night! She put her car in Park and set the brake. Since it was Saturday, she was betting that Jonas was home, and from the looks of the truck in his driveway, he was.

  She could still back out. Start the car, throw it in Reverse and return home.

  Armando had offered to take Pepé out for brunch, where Emily was going to meet up with them and then go to the movies. Serena had canceled her plans with Emily, but since Emily had become part of her family, Pepé’s family, it was good to have Armando meet her. He’d be able to give her mother a positive report—that Serena and Pepé were happy in Washington State and that it wasn’t a temporary arrangement. Maybe Juanita would find her way out here for a visit at some point.

  She flipped down her visor and took a last look at herself. Would her eagerness appear obvious to Jonas? Why didn’t she just hang a sign around her neck with Sexually Needy emblazoned on it?

  Only after she rang Jonas’s doorbell did she wonder if maybe he wouldn’t want her at his place, uninvited.

  She’d been about to make love to the man last night and had never even seen his home. Maybe she was a little too desperate.

  Or maybe she was thinking of Jonas as more than a fling.

  Her thoughts slammed to a stop the minute the door opened and tall, sexy, sweaty Jonas looked her over from head to toe.

  She’d dressed with care but not so much that her brother would make wisecracks. She’d unbuttoned her blouse to her cleavage in the car, and she’d worn her high-heeled boots. Jonas’s hair was damp at the ends, his workout shirt stretched taut over his chest. He was breathing hard, his lips spread wide in a wicked grin. “Are you selling cookies?”

  “Something like that. May I come in?”

  Jonas glanced over at her SUV. “Where’s Pepé?”

  “With Armando and Emily.” Was he going to make her stand out here, feeling like a desperate fool?

  “For how long?”

  “The afternoon.”

  His eyes blazed with comprehension. In one movement Jonas hauled her into his foyer, shut the front door and had her up against it, his lips locked on hers.

  Serena could have asked him to shower first, or to get her a glass of water, or to see his house.

  Instead, she closed her eyes, wrapped her leg around his hip and kissed him back.

  Whether the shivers he sent down her body were from the way he stroked her waist, then moved around to her buttocks, pressing her closer to his erection, or from the thrill of finally letting go of all her reservations, she didn’t know.

  She didn’t care about anything except getting Jonas to keep kissing her, stroking her, arousing her to the heated point she hadn’t felt in forever.

  Maybe ever.

  The realization made her pull back from his kiss and look into his eyes. Jonas breathed in and out for a few heartbeats before he opened his eyes and revealed how much he wanted her.

  “It’s not always like this, Jonas.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “What we have here, it’s—”

  “Not something that has to be put into words, Serena.” He kissed her again and she yielded to the exhilarating sensation of being in his arms. He was the man she found the most attractive since her husband.

  The most exciting since she was a teenager and kisses were new.

  “Come with me.” Jonas stepped back, holding her hand. He waited until she smiled at him before he led her into his home.

  She got a glimpse of a gas insert fireplace, a kitchen done in warm cherry wood, an open laptop. A water bottle, almost empty, on the kitchen’s black granite counter.

  Stairs up to another hallway—into Jonas’s bedroom.

  Serena paused. “Wow.”

  “Did you think I slept in a twin bed?”

  She gaped at the massive king-size bed with four pillars that would fit as well in a castle as in Jonas’s very masculine room.

  “Where did you get this?”

  He shrugged out of his shirt. The view of his chest, sprinkled with blond hair the same shade as that on his head, made her forget her question about where his furniture came from.

  “Antique market, Belgium. Can we talk about it later?” He was next to her, kissing her, undressing her.

  “Sure. Oh. My.”

  His caresses kept her warm as he moved on to her blouse, her jeans.

  “I need a shower, and you’re coming in with me, Serena.”

  “Yes.”

  She stood in front of him in her laciest bra, the one she’d bought online a few weeks ago. When she’d realized her libido had awakened from its long slumber.

  When she’d admitted to herself that she wanted to go to bed with Jonas.

  “I like this.” Jonas had two fingers under the strip of lace that covered her hip, holding her thong in place. He gently tugged on the elastic band until her breasts were crushed against his chest.

  “You’re beautiful, Serena.”

  “Thank you.” Shyness tried to come up and strangle her arousal, but she fought it. Jonas made her feel beautiful, whole, sexy.

  Jonas made her feel.

  He shucked off his workout shorts and stood in his briefs in front of her.

  Serena giggled at the Christmas cartoon characters printed on the cotton fabric.

  “Hey, they’re my workout underwear! If I’d known you were stopping by I wouldn’t have worn anything but a towel to the door.”

  “Merry Christmas, indeed.” She nipped at his lower lip, her hands reaching for his erection.

  Jonas’s hands covered hers and held her still. She groaned in protest. Feeling Jonas react to her was the biggest thrill she’d had in a long time.

  “Let’s take it slow, or this will be over before it starts. I’ve dreamed of this for so long.”

  He unhooked her bra and pushed her straps off, sucking in his breath when her breasts spilled out of the red lace cups.

  “I’ve always been, um, endowed.”

  “Oh, baby, you’re perfect.” He cupped both breasts reverently and bent to kiss one nipple, then the other. When he sucked on one of them Serena’s knees buckled and she leaned against him.

  “What was that about taking it slow?”

  Jonas laughed and she felt the reverberations as they shook his upper body.

  Before she knew what he’d planned, Jonas bent down and hoisted her over his shoulder, holding her steady with a strategically placed hand on her bottom.

  “Jonas!” She clung to his waist, his smooth back her view. And his ass...

  He set her down on a soft rug in a bathroom with a sleek, modern shower, then turned on the faucets.

  “Did the house come like this?”

  “No, I did it. I like to work with my hands.”

  He demonstrated his talent as he led her into the dark brown shower stall. There were at least eight or twelve—who could count when Jonas was about to make love to her—faucet heads, streaming perfectly warmed water all over her body.

  It was the most sensual shower Serena had ever experienced.

  “Come here.”

  Body against body, Jonas leaned down and kissed her, hard. Serena held the back of his neck and kissed him with all the sexual frustration he’d created in her these past few weeks. Since the day she’d walked in on his conversation with Doc Franklin at the clinic.

  His erection was against her and she had a moment of clarity.

  “Jonas, condoms, we need condoms.”

  He reached up to a shelf above her head.

  “I brought them in with us.” His smile was positively wicked, the water running down his head and over his muscled shoulders as though he was the model for a military recruiting poster.

  “Well
, you are a health professional.”

  “I am.”

  His hands were on her breasts and, with the protection issue addressed, Serena gave in to the passion Jonas lit inside her. She didn’t know if she needed his tongue or his hands on her more—both evoked a simmering sexuality whenever he was near.

  “I don’t want to wait for the bed, Serena, but I want you to be comfortable.”

  He’d stopped, caring about her comfort.

  “Take me now.”

  “Put this on me.” He handed her the condom packet and she willed her hands to stop shaking.

  “My hands are too wet.”

  Jonas laughed. “Here.”

  He gave her a washcloth and she dried her fingers quickly before tearing open the package. When she slid the condom over his erection, Serena felt a surge of possessiveness. As if she was staking her claim on him.

  He lifted her chin with his finger and looked down at her. “I’ve wanted this for a long time, Serena.”

  “Me, too. Please, Jonas. Now.”

  He moved her against the shower wall and, bending his knees, entered her in one slow, savory motion.

  Serena panted with her wanting, her desire. The initial sensations of a climax began and she couldn’t hang on. “Look at me, Serena.” He stroked in and out, the sensation obliterating her ability to think clearly.

  She stared into his sea-blue eyes and let him watch her as she started to come. Only when she reached her full climax did she close her eyes and cry out, her head against the shower wall, water running down her body. The impact of his lovemaking on her sent wave after wave of sensation through her.

  Jonas finally surrendered to his own climax, his hoarse shout echoing in the tiled stall.

  Serena luxuriated in the weight of him against her, their naked bodies connected as intimately as possible, leaning against the hard wall of the shower. This was how life was meant to be lived.

  * * *

  THEY MADE LOVE two more times before Serena had to return home to Pepé. Armando would be bringing him back from the movies and they were going to have a family dinner before Armando left for Seattle and his flight home to Texas.

  “When can I see you again?”

  She paused in the middle of pulling on her sock, bent over his bed as she dressed. “I don’t know. Can we take it as it comes?”

  “I’d prefer to take you as often as I can.” Her pupils dilated at his response and male satisfaction coursed through him. He didn’t know when, but at some point it had become very important that she was as turned on by him as he was by her.

  “That can be arranged, to a point.”

  “What are you doing for Christmas?”

  “On Christmas Day we’re having Emily over for brunch, after Pepé opens his gifts from Santa.”

  “What about Christmas Eve?”

  She didn’t answer right away, concentrating as she buttoned her blouse. He wanted to pull her back beside him in the bed and rip the blouse open again, make love to her all night long.

  “Jonas, I have Pepé. I can’t allow anything to distract me from that, and it’s not fair to let you think otherwise. He’s my priority.”

  “I’m not questioning that, Serena. I like Pepé a lot, and I don’t want him to get hurt, either.”

  “So you agree it’s best to keep this part of our friendship under wraps?” She scrutinized him with her lawyer stare. Those eyes missed nothing.

  “From Pepé, yes. But he’s a smart kid, Serena. He’ll know.”

  She zipped up her boots. “No, he won’t. Not if we don’t act like teenagers in front of him.”

  “I asked about Christmas Eve because my family has a dinner every year. It’s early enough that the little kids can be home in time to get ready for Santa.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Please do. Serena, we’re your family now. Pepé’s, too.”

  She looked at him and he realized, too late, that he’d overstepped, despite his intention to the contrary.

  “You’re my lover. Your family is our extended family because of Dottie. That won’t go away, and I don’t want to ruin it with our relationship, Jonas.”

  “You weren’t worried about that for the past couple of hours.”

  She blushed in the fading daylight that filtered through the plantation shutters that covered his windows.

  Her profile was angelic, but her expression fierce with the fire of a woman who knew her strength. And wasn’t afraid to use it.

  “Let me think about it,” she said again.

  * * *

  “HOW WAS YOUR AFTERNOON?” Armando kept an innocent expression on his handsome face, but Serena knew her brother. He was perfectly aware of what she’d been up to.

  “Lovely.”

  “What did you do, Mom?” Pepé spoke through a mouthful of pasta, his eyes starting to droop. Armando and Emily had spoiled him with the movie and bowling afterward. He’d fall asleep the minute he hit his cartoon pillowcase.

  “I relaxed, honey. Sometimes Mommy needs time to herself.”

  “That sounds boring.”

  “It won’t sound boring in about nine years, when you’re sixteen, niño.” Armando laughed at Pepé’s confused expression. “I’m teasing your mom, Pepé, ignore me.”

  “Yes, ignore Tío Armando. He’s a funny guy.”

  “I love you, Tío Armando!” Pepé defended Armando with sincerity. Serena and Armando laughed and Pepé joined in.

  “I love him, too, mi hijo. It’s how we show we love each other—we tease.”

  “Oh.”

  “It’s nice to see you laughing again, Serena. You were too sad for too long.”

  “I know. It’s good to feel alive. But...” She wasn’t sure how much to tell Armando. Everything she told him would end up getting back to Juanita, and she wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.

  “Yes?”

  She looked at her brother and sent a meaningful glance toward Pepé, as in “let’s talk about this later.” Pepé was asleep, his face practically in his plate.

  Serena smiled. “You tuckered him out.”

  “We did. Your friend Emily is very energetic.”

  “Maybe I should be asking you how your afternoon was?”

  “Oh, no. You know me. I’m a bachelor for life. Women, they complicate things.”

  Serena ignored him. She saw how his eyes lit up when she said Emily’s name.

  “Do you want to put Pepé to bed, since you’ll be leaving?”

  “Of course.”

  She walked behind him as he carried the sleeping boy into his room and laid him on his twin bed.

  “I’ll miss him. He’s a great boy, Serena.”

  “He misses you, too. You’re his favorite uncle.”

  They walked back into the kitchen and she made Armando a cup of coffee for the road. He was flying back to Texas the next day.

  “Tell Mama I’m fine, and Pepé and I will visit this summer once school’s out. I promise.”

  “I will. She’s over it, you know.”

  “Over what?”

  “You leaving, taking her grandson away from her. She understands.”

  Serena didn’t reply. Her relationship with her mother had never been easy. They loved each other, but because they were so much alike they needed time apart, too.

  Armando drained his cup.

  “Okay, sister. Take good care of yourself and don’t be a stranger. And remember, life’s short. If you find a chance at happiness again, don’t hold back.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because I know you, Serena. You think you have to work your ass off for a chance at the good life. Sometimes it gets handed to you and I’d hate to see you turn down a grea
t offer because of your screwed-up early years.” He smiled, and she laughed.

  It was an ongoing joke in their family that Serena’s four years with her mother, before the other kids came along, were Juanita’s “messed-up years.” The time after their mother got married and gave Serena brothers and sisters were the “normal” years.

  “Got it. Don’t you suppose I’ve already done that, moving out here, finding my roots?”

  “Sure, but you know I’m not talking about your biological father. I’m talking about Jonas. He’s not a man to take lightly.”

  “You met him for one night, very briefly, Armando.”

  “Men know men. Trust me.”

  He gave her a warm hug and kissed her cheek.

  “Tell Pepé I’m going to teach him how to fly a kite the next time I’m out here.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Whidbey Island

  Early November 1945

  SARAH ASTONISHED HERSELF with her patience. Or was it stupidity?

  The envelope lay unopened on the kitchen table, right where she’d placed it after Charles left.

  She coughed as the dust she was beating out of her rag rug blew into her face. Dottie played on the tire swing that hung from the lone oak tree in the front yard, from which Sarah had stretched a clothesline to the back porch post on the corner of the house. Her father had promised to put up poles for her, but steel was scarce.

  “Five more minutes, Dottie!” she yelled over to her precious little girl.

  Henry was going to make it back. She refused to let the fear creep in again—the voice that reminded her of all the diseases he might not survive while he was in a hospital. They had a daughter to raise, and Dottie needed a sibling. She was going to end up spoiled if she remained her parents’ only grandchild.

  “Nooooo, Momma!” Point proven. Dottie would settle for nothing less than twenty-four hours a day on that swing.

  The package whispered to her, as did the letter she felt in its folds. Like a child on Christmas morning, she’d let her fingers touch, then grope the letter, desperate to know what was inside.

  Afraid of it, too.

  She never thought of herself as superstitious. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to open it. If it was the last thing she ever got from Henry, she wanted to wait as long as possible, as if to prolong his life.