One Night With You (The Heart of the City Series, Book 1)

by Schuler, Candace

  "I love you, Desiree," he said softly, slowly. "If I didn't love you I wouldn't have asked you to marry me. I would be willing to provide for Stephanie financially, but I wouldn't tie myself to a woman I didn't love. Not even for my daughter. Is that clear?"

  "Yes, Jake," Desi murmured obediently.

  "Good. Now—will you marry me?"

  "Yes, Jake." She sighed rapturously. "Oh, yes."

  His mouth took hers again, devouring all the sweetness she so eagerly offered. They began to edge blindly toward the sofa, stumbling into the coffee table in their feverish haste. Jake stopped what he was doing with his hands and mouth to lift her into his arms.

  "The bedroom?" he said, his voice low and husky with passion.

  "That way," she whispered, pointing toward the hall. "Second door on the left."

  He stopped by the bed, letting her body slide slowly down the hard length of his until her bare feet touched the floor. Without a word being spoken, she began to unbutton her shirt—one slow button at a time. The shirt dropped to the floor and she reached for the snap of her jeans, sliding them down her legs to the floor and kicking them aside.

  She held his eyes all the while, unwrapping herself like a gift until she stood there covered only by a wisp of lilac silk across her hips and the flaming copper hair that curled to her waist.

  Jake reached out with both hands and lifted her hair, pushing it back behind her shoulders. His fingers lingered on the creamy skin of her neck, then trailed lightly across her fragile collarbone and down to her breasts to cup their enticing fullness in his palms.

  "It always amazes me," he said, a note of wonder in his deep voice, "how very female you are under your boy's clothes."

  His hands left her breasts then, following the curves of her waist and hips. His fingers slid under the lilac silk and continued their slow tantalizing trek downward, caressing her slender thighs and calves and delicate, fine-boned ankles, and he knelt to push her panties down her legs. Obligingly Desi stepped out of her panties when he reached her feet, one hand reaching out to his shoulder to steady herself as she did so.

  Jake leaned back on his heels. "You're absolutely perfect," he murmured. His hot dark eyes surveyed her again from the top of her flaming head to her bright-pink toenails. "Imagine hiding all this magnificence under those boy's clothes."

  "I have one fault, remember?" she said teasingly, but her voice was shaking and her body had begun to tremble.

  "Ah, yes. The beauty mark."

  "Mole."

  "Beauty mark," he insisted, teasing her. He leaned forward suddenly, catching her off guard. His arms went around her waist, pulling her to him, and his mouth moved, moist and hot, against the little reddish mole on her left hip.

  "Jake," she gasped. Her hands clutched his shoulders to keep from falling as his mouth wandered tantalizingly from her hip to her navel and beyond, making her weak-kneed with rapturous delight.

  From the next room the baby began to cry softly. They both stilled, listening, hoping she would settle down again, but the whimper rose to a steady wail. Desi began looking around for her robe. Jake rocked back on his heels, his hands on Desi's hips, and levered himself to his feet. "You stay here," he said in a voice not quite steady. "I'll go to her."

  "Don't be silly. She'll probably need changing and, besides, she's teething. You might have to rock her back to sleep."

  "You think I can't handle one little baby?" he asked in mock indignation.

  "No," she answered him honestly, her blue eyes alight with laughter and tenderness.

  "Don't bet on it. My older sister has four kids. I'm an expert baby rocker."

  "And diaper changer?" she said dryly.

  "Anybody can change a diaper." He grinned. "It just takes a strong stomach." He put one big hand between her breasts and toppled her backward onto the bed. "Wait for me right there," he ordered. "I'll be back."

  Desi smiled up at him. He'd be calling for her help soon enough. She'd give him five minutes, at most.

  She heard the door to Stephanie's room creak open and then the baby's crying quieted abruptly, presumably as Jake picked her up. She heard the deep, muffled sound of Jake's voice as he talked to his daughter, but there was no frantic appeal for her help. Maybe he could change a diaper.

  Desi got up from the bed and pulled back the quilted spread and the crisp powder-blue sheets, fluffing the pillows before she crawled back in it to wait, as ordered.

  It was just as if they were already married, she thought, hugging herself happily. She snuggled down into the bed, while Jake took his turn with the baby.

  "I'll make him happy," she whispered aloud, to no one in particular.

  She made herself comfortable under the covers, listening to the muted music of father and daughter in the next room. Jake seemed to be talking to the baby, and there were pauses, as if she was answering him. Desi closed her eyes, smiling at the picture that conjured up...the internationally famous heartthrob Jake Lancing, babbling gibberish to a five-month-old baby girl. It was enough to bring foolish tears to her eyes.

  *

  "You didn't wait for me." Jake's breath tickled her ear as he snuggled down into the bed beside her.

  Desi's eyes flickered open, focusing groggily on the bare, hairy chest in front of her. "I guess I fell asleep," she said. She wrapped her arm around his waist, burying her face against his furred chest as if waking up to find him naked in her bed was the most natural thing in the world. "You took long enough," she complained sleepily.

  "Stephanie wanted to talk."

  Desi rubbed her cheek against his hair-roughened chest. "She's too young to talk."

  "She is not," he informed her, a ring of fatherly pride in his voice. "We decided that she's going up to Sonoma with us tomorrow to finish the picture."

  Desi rolled over onto her back to look up into his face. "She is, is she?"

  Jake nodded.

  "I thought you didn't like kids."

  "Who told you a lie like that?"

  "You did—indirectly, anyway."

  He looked at her quizzically, one eyebrow raised in mute question.

  "Those paternity suits," she explained, "and a couple of things you said in interviews."

  "I never said I didn't like kids. I just said those particular two weren't mine."

  "Oh," Desi uttered softly, not knowing what else to say.

  "In fact, I'm crazy about kids." His arms cradled her. "Especially little redheaded kids. I'd like to have at least as many as my sister." He peered down into her face. "Did I tell you that she has four?"

  "Ah, yes." Desi nodded against his chest. "Four." She felt his hands moving slowly on her body. "That's quite a large family, isn't it? I mean—" she squirmed as his fingers explored her navel "—for a working couple. That's a lot of... um, responsibility and, um..." She was becoming incoherent as his hands continued their tantalizing journey over the curves of her slim body.

  "Don't worry about it." He spoke against her ear, his tongue teasing the lobe. "We'll get a nanny and they can travel with us. I'm rich, unless this film flops and then—"

  "It won't flop," Desi interrupted loyally, propping herself up on one elbow. "It's a great film and it'll be a big hit. I know it will."

  "Hey," Jake said, a slow, sexy smile on his face, his dark eyes alight with love and tenderness and passion. "Do you really want to talk business? Now?"

  Desi's smile matched his. "No," she said, a little breathlessly.

  "Then kiss me," he ordered, rolling her over so that she was trapped under the welcome weight of his hard body.

  Her arms came up, pulling his head down to her searching mouth, and her slender body arched under him, inviting his most intimate possession. He shifted eagerly as her legs opened, taking what she so freely and so sweetly offered.

  "Desiree," he groaned, straining forward into the honeyed warmth of her body.

  Desi's fingers clutched convulsively at his shoulders, and she murmured his name softly, over and over,
like a chant. It was the only thing she seemed able to say as he took her beyond coherent thought with the thrusting heat of his muscled body and the sweet, exciting love words that he whispered hoarsely against the dampness of her neck. It was those words, as much as what he did to her with his body, that finally drove her over the crest. She nearly screamed as her climax washed over her in waves, burying her face in his neck to muffle the sound. She felt him stiffen in her arms as his own climax took him.

  They lay there entwined for several long minutes, wrapped in each other's arms, as they drifted back to reality. Slowly she became aware of the sheets rumpled under their sweat-sheened bodies, of the comforter that had slipped to the floor, of the distant sound of the constant city traffic, and the weight of Jake's body above her—all things that had gone completely unnoticed during the act of love.

  Jake shifted his body then, relieving her of his weight, but keeping her close still, with his arm around her shoulders and her head on his chest. "I think you were right," he said, his voice soft and gruff from somewhere above her head.

  "About what?" She lifted her head a little to peer up at him.

  "Stephanie does have my eyes," he told her, a note of pleased conviction in his voice. He pressed her head back down to his chest with his free hand.

  "Oh, you." She punched him lightly in the ribs in retaliation and was rewarded by a soft oomph of laughter.

  His hand stroked lazily down the length of her back. "Go to sleep, my Desiree," he said. "We have a long day tomorrow." His voice sounded fuzzy and far away as if he, too, was drifting off to sleep. "Drive up to Sonoma. Get Devil's Lady in the can before Christmas. Shall we have Christmas with your family, sweetheart? We could get married then."

  He paused, in case Desi wanted to speak, but she remained silent, cuddled contentedly against his side. "It should be a small wedding, don't you think?" he went on, not really waiting for, nor expecting, an answer. "Just immediate families. Will your parents mind arranging a wedding on such short notice? Or should I have my secretary take care of it?"

  "Mmm," Desi mumbled against his chest.

  Jake jiggled her a little. "Hey, we're planning a wedding here. Pay attention, woman."

  "Mmm," Desi said again, drowsy with love and contentment. "It sounds wonderful. I'd love a Christmas wedding, and my mother will have a ball."

  They had almost dropped off to sleep when a sudden thought brought her upright. "Oh good Lord!"

  "What?" Jake heaved himself up onto his elbow, concern in his eyes. "What is it?"

  "My mother."

  "What about your mother? Don't you think she can handle the arrangements for the wedding?"

  "No, that's not it." Desi was giggling now. "Mom and dad will be overjoyed to arrange the wedding, believe me. It's just that their future son-in-law is going to come as a real shock. They have no idea that there's even a man in my life." She lay back down against the pillow and smiled up at him mischievously. "Let alone a man like you. The great Jake Lancing," she teased. "Mom will be the envy of her bridge club."

  Jake raised a skeptical eyebrow, ignoring her teasing. "Surely, they must know there's someone," he said dryly, his head cocked toward Stephanie's room.

  "But that was nearly a year ago." Her smile widened into a grin.

  She lifted her hand and touched his face softly, trailing the tips of her fingers across his eyebrows, down his nose, over the curve of his upper lip. Her grin faded.

  "That time should have been yours, too, Jake," she said seriously. "You had a right to know that you were going to be a father, and I shouldn't have let pride and hurt feelings keep me from telling you." Her other hand came up and she cupped his face between her palms. "I'm so sorry, Jake. Can you ever forgive me for being so selfish?"

  Jake turned his lips into her palm, too moved, for a moment, to speak. "We've both done some things and said some things we should be sorry for, Desiree. But that's all in the past. Tonight—" he turned his head, kissing her other palm "—tonight we start with a clean slate. Agreed?"

  "Agreed," she whispered. Her hands curved around his jaw to the back of his head, her fingers threading through his dark hair. Her lips parted softly, her lashes lowered over eyes as brilliant as sapphires.

  He resisted the pull of her arms for just a moment. "You want to seal it with a kiss?" he said, his eyes smoldering with love and passion and teasing laughter.

  "Several kisses." Desi tightened her arms around his neck, lifting her head to his. "Lots of kisses," she murmured as their mouths touched.

  Jake's arms slid under her then, hugging her body to his. He pressed her down into the pillows, tilting his head so that their kiss was deepened. Desi's lips opened wider, eagerly accepting the sweetness of his seeking tongue. She wrapped her arms more tightly around his neck, needing to hold him as close as possible. Closer. She moaned softly.

  Jake freed his mouth for just a moment. "A lifetime of kisses," he said solemnly, and bent his head to taste her lips again.

  The End

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  THE NIGHT REMEMBERS

  The Heart of the City

  Book Two

  Excerpt from

  The Night Remembers

  The Heart of the City Series

  Book Two

  by

  Candace Schuler

  Bestselling, award-winning Author

  THE NIGHT REMEMBERS

  Reviews & Accolades

  "Ms. Schuler develops conflicting personalities with great skill... completely involves the reader"

  ~Romantic Times

  "Ms. Schuler's characters are deeply motivated, emotional people."

  ~Inside Romance

  "I didn't want to leave you that night." He reached across the table and put his hand on her arm. His fingers seemed to burn right through the sleeve of her robe. "I wanted to stay and make love to you again. Slowly, all night long. Like we used to." His fingers tightened on her arm. "I still want to," he said quietly.

  Daphne closed her eyes for a moment fighting the weakness that had invaded her body at his touch, fighting the temptation of his words. Fighting... What was it she had told herself? Oh, yes. It wouldn't work. She opened her eyes and eased her arm out from under his hand.

  "You didn't call," she accused, surprising herself. It was the last thing she had intended to say.

  Adam let her pull away. "I wanted to." He ran his hand through his hair. "But I thought it would be better—for both of us—if I didn't." He began tearing at the hapless cinnamon roll on the plate in front of him, reducing it to crumbs. "We've got separate lives now," he went on, half speaking to himself. "Successful lives," he emphasized, "on separate coasts. And it's been eleven years. We've both gotten along fine—just fine—without each other for eleven goddamn years."

  He looked up, his eyes faintly accusing, as if it were all her fault. "I actually thought I was over you. Over wanting you," he amended. "But you're like a fever. Like a..." He shook his head, looking as confused as she felt, and ran his hand through his hair again. "You're like a drug to me, Daphne. And all I have to do is see you and I start to ache for you all over again." He took a deep breath and dropped his hand to the table. "Why the hell did you have to come back here?"

  "Because I ache for you, too," she said simply.

  "You, too?" Adam's hand reached out again, tentatively touching hers where it lay on the table.

  "Me, too." She lifted her hand, palm toward him, and let him lace his fingers with hers. "After that night I couldn't get you out of my mind. Couldn't forget how good it was. How good it's always been between us."

  His fingers tightened. She squeezed back.

  "I told myself it would be best if we didn't see each other again," she continued. "That it was just a temporary aberration and it would go away if I ignored it. But then Sunny called and invited me to your birthday party and I thought…well, why not? We're both adults now, not two crazy kid
s. We could be friends. Lots of ex's are friends. Right?"

  Adam nodded slowly, his expression wary.

  Oh, hell! Who am I trying to kid, she thought, seeing it. Adam? Or myself?

  She straightened and pulled her hand from his. "No, that's not true." She laced her fingers together on the table. "The truth is," she said, staring down at her hands, "that I quite cold-bloodedly decided to come to Sunny's party to start an affair with you."

  "What?" Adam's blue eyes opened wide.

  "An affair." She glanced at him from under the sweep of her lashes. "You know, two people meeting over a period of time for illicit sexual purposes?"

  "Yes, I know what it is. What I don't know is why you'd want to have one."

  "Well, I thought... that is." She lifted her head and met his eyes straight on. "I thought having an affair with you would be the way to get you out of my system. I mean, this intense thing we seem to have for each other would have to fizzle out sooner or later and—"

  "It hasn't fizzled in eleven years."

  "No, but I think that's because of the way it ended. It was so abrupt and the... the..." She stumbled over the word, knowing love was the right one but not willing to go that far. "The passion never had a chance to die a natural death. We parted still wanting each other physically, even though the emotions were gone. And I thought, if we had an affair it might, uh, might—"

  "Get me out of your system for good," he finished for her.

  She nodded, completely forgetting that she had spent most of last night deciding that nothing was going to get Adam out of her system for good. "Yes." She smiled ruefully. "Do I sound totally crazy?"

  "Maybe. But if you're crazy, then so am I, because I agree. An affair is just what we need to get over each other for good."

  The Night Remembers

  The Heart of the City Series