by Floyd, Jacie
“Wyatt.” Sharing the moment, relishing the freedom, she soared over the brink.
The forceful climax ripped through them at the same time. The descent was slow and sweet.
Wyatt loved the way she’d said his name right before she came. Right before he came. He could still feel her trembling around him with little orgasmic aftershocks that pulled at him, both emotionally and physically.
In this sated moment, when he felt the most free, he doubted if he’d ever be truly free again.
He had known in a very basic, elemental way that he needed this, needed Kara, needed to feel her beneath him and around him. During his pursuit of her, he had convinced himself that he had calculated the risk of taking her to bed again and was willing to pay the price.
In fact, he no longer believed he’d had any other choice.
He wanted her, needed her, more and more with every passing day. And if the feeling of destiny that drove him to her hadn’t been enough to tell him the truth, this soul-shattering encounter had done it for him. He knew now what he had suspected for some time. Sex had always been more than merely satisfying between them, even more than exceptional, because it was more than sex. It was making love.
He loved her.
He could no longer deny the special connection that linked them. The connection that would eventually lead him to the selection of china patterns and a lifelong commitment. The idea didn’t terrify him nearly as much as it used to.
But would it terrify Kara?
“Be right back.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead and got up to take care of business. When he returned, he pulled her towards him, trapping one of her hands between them. Kara opened her fingers to reveal a rose petal and placed her palm against his heart.
“All right. I’m ready,” she said.
“Again?” He tilted his lips into a grin of satisfaction. “I know you think I’m superhuman, but I’ll need a few minutes.”
She gave him a reproving glance. “I’m ready for the talk.”
“Which one? The one where I pledge my eternal devotion and state my intentions?”
“No, silly. The one where we agree this doesn’t mean anything. That it’s only physical, and we shouldn’t get carried away.”
Yep, she was definitely spooked. “Are you sure that’s the speech I was going to make?”
“Weren’t you?”
“No.” He fingered the two tiny baby rings threaded together on a chain around her neck. “I was going to say it was as good as the first time. Better than the first time.”
She smoothed her fingers through the wiry hair on his chest, rubbing it first in one direction and then the other, waiting. When he said nothing, she dropped back and pulled the sheet up to cover her. “And after you said that, you were going to say...?”
He draped a possessive arm across her chest to prevent her retreat. “I was going to ask how long you can stay.”
“Wyatt!” She punched him lightly in the shoulder. “You’re supposed to define the rules.”
“Are there supposed to be rules?”
“With you there are.”
He shook his head. “Not this time. I don’t want to play games, Kara mia. Let’s just let this happen. Let’s go wherever it takes us.”
She pushed her hair away from her face. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.” She pleated the sheet between her fingers. “You know the story. We’re just a man and a woman.” She took a frantic grip on his arm. “No regrets, no recriminations.” She rubbed non-existent sweat from her forehead. “When it’s over, it’s over.” She was almost pleading with him by the time she finished. “Jump in anytime.”
He gripped the fine bones of her wrist to halt the nervous rambling of her hand. Her pulse raced beneath his fingertips. “Is that what you want?”
“It’s what I need.” She turned her hand to clasp his fingers. “Unless this is going to be a one-shot deal.”
“Is that what you want?” he repeated.
She hesitated. “It might be for the best, but it’s unlikely.”
Relief flooded through him. “I agree.”
“So to make this work, I need to keep any relationship we might have compartmentalized.”
He smiled to himself, picturing her trying to contain him in some neat little corner of her heart. No point in warning her he had no intention of staying in his designated box this time. “Do you know what I need? Champagne.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed and reached for the phone. “Or maybe that tea we talked about.” As he waited for room service to answer, he lifted the drape and looked out the window. “Damn.”
“What?”
“It’s snowing. I’ve only lived here six weeks, and it’s snowed five times already. Hello? Yes, I’d like to order—” He noticed Kara slip out of the other side of the bed and bend down. Wyatt put his hand over the receiver and enjoyed the view. “What are you doing?”
“Getting dressed.”
“Why?”
“I have to go.”
“Never mind,” he said into the phone before hanging up. “Now? You have to go now?”
“Yes.” She wriggled into her panties. “It’s snowing.”
She seemed to think that said it all. He noticed her fingers shaking as she wrapped her dress around her.
“Kara.” He took her hands in his. “Sometimes it’s safer just to wait it out.”
“I can’t.” Her voice quivered and her eyes had taken on a wild look. “I have to get home. I have to be with Sean.”
He could see there was no reasoning with her. He reached for his boxers. “Hang on, and I’ll go with you.”
Wyatt insisted on following Kara home from the hotel. She didn’t need him to, didn’t want him to, and would have preferred it if he hadn’t, but he did anyway against all her objections.
She hated the snow. Driving through the blinding white flakes tormented her with a sense of déjà vu. Her palms sweat as she gripped the steering wheel. Even pulling safely into her garage didn’t help her relax. Nothing would calm her until she held Sean safely in her arms.
He was elbow deep in red finger-paint when she arrived, but that didn’t prevent her from scooping him up.
“Mommy, look!” Her son proudly held up his picture. “I’m making balentimes.”
“I see that.” She covered his face with noisy kisses. “You’re my valentine.”
He struggled to get down when he spotted Wyatt bearing an armful of flowers and balloons.
“I’m making balentimes,” he repeated.
“And I’ve brought valentines for you.” Wyatt gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek. “Are you finished painting?” From the back, Wyatt put his arms around the child’s waist and carried him over to the sink.
“I’m glad you’re here.” Angela went to wash her hands, too. “I wasn’t sure what time to expect you, and I have plans.”
“You aren’t going out tonight, are you? The weather’s terrible.” Kara held back a curtain to show Angela the accumulating snow. “Maybe you should sleepover since you have to be here early tomorrow.”
“Kara, it’s Valentine’s Day. I have a date. I can come back later to spend the night if you’re worried about me being late in the morning.”
“You know I’m not concerned about that. I’m just worried about the condition of the streets.”
“The weather station said it would dwindle to flurries within the hour.” Angela headed for the back door, pulling on her coat and gloves. “If it keeps up, will they cancel your appointment in the morning?”
“I’ll call you if they do. Be careful tonight.”
“Yes, Mother,” Angela sassed, making a bug-eyed face.
“I’m sorry to be such a worrywart, but be—”
“—careful,” Angela finished for her. “Yeah, yeah, I know. ‘Night, Sean. ‘Night, Wyatt,” she called out then said to Kara, “Marco and I’ll be here at eight sharp.”
“Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you guys
.” Kara closed the door behind her.
Wyatt and Sean were still cleaning up finger paints when she returned to the kitchen. She didn’t know if the afternoon with Wyatt or the weather or her upcoming dental surgery was making her so jumpy, but having Wyatt study her over Sean’s head added to her edginess.
“This for Mommy.” Sean held up a picture that only doting eyes would recognize as a heart.
“Thank you, dumplin’,” Kara said. “It’s beautiful. Let’s hang it on the refrigerator. Oh, doesn’t that look pretty?”
He held up another painting. “This Daddy’s.”
“I love it,” Wyatt said. “Should we put it here next to Mommy’s until time for me to go?”
“Which will be soon, won’t it?” she prompted. “I mean, I’m getting hungry, and Sean probably is, too.”
“Great. What’s for dinner?”
“Wyatt,” she began, “you can’t—”
“Kara.” He tapped a fingertip against her lips. “I would have fed you if you hadn’t rushed to leave.”
Just because they’d shared incredible intimacies that day didn’t mean she was going to let him insinuate himself into her life on a regular basis. She would have to spell out the rules for him. Right after supper.
“We aren’t having anything fancy.” She opened the refrigerator to scan the contents.“How do you feel about leftover chili?”
If he objected to the plain fare, he kept it to himself. She tried to rush him through the meal, but he asked for seconds. Then the bath he insisted on giving Sean included a water fight. She suspected him of being willing to read every one of the Just So stories if she hadn’t put a stop to it.
Throughout the evening, he didn’t make a single flirtation move or suggestion, but she knew from the light in his eyes as he looked at her that in his head he was remembering her naked. And panting. And recently.
If she expected their afternoon activities to lessen the electricity that arced between them from a blazing inferno to a pleasant glow, she discovered the inaccuracy of those expectations. If anything, the opposite held true. Every glance, every comment, every brush of her skin against his took on nuances of unprecedented meaning. The overtone of sensuality couldn’t have been more obvious if Kara’s flesh had changed into transparent cellophane and neon rampaged through her veins.
By the time they put Sean down for the night, Kara knew she had to get Wyatt out of her house before she undressed him and threw herself at his body again. The idea caused her too much confusion. She wanted their physical intimacy to be a fling she could control like a sweet tooth. A craving that could be satisfied. One she could indulge in, now and again, like Godiva chocolates. Not a consuming hunger she must surrender to with the escalating frequency of an addict’s need for drugs.
After Sean lay sleeping, Wyatt and Kara returned to the first floor. Without pausing to chat, she handed him his coat at the bottom of the stairs.
“You’re kicking me out?” he asked, more amused than angry. “You won’t reconsider?”
“No.” She crossed her arms in front of her.
“What about the weather? The roads are treacherous.”
“Oh! You’re right.” She chewed her bottom lip, wondering if she could keep her hands off him if he spent the night. “I guess you could sleepover. In the guest room.”
“Nah. It’s not far. I’ll be fine in the SUV.” He ran his fingers across her cheek. “Thanks for dinner. And the afternoon.”
“No problem. Thanks for—” Well, hell. Just what was the polite thing to thank him for under these circumstances? “—the flowers.”
“I enjoyed the time we spent together.” As usual, he expressed himself more eloquently than she did. “Every scrumptious bit of it. Maybe we can do it again.”
She focused her attention on the precise placement of the hardwood planks beneath her feet. Until she could control her heartbeat, there was no way she could meet his eyes and ignore the invitation she would find there. “Maybe.”
He lifted her chin. “I’ll call you in the morning.”
“No.” She wouldn’t let herself be pleased by the casual suggestion.
“Yes.” His tone contained a promise.
She had to move away from his touch or be lost. She stepped back, but for each step she took, he followed until he cornered her between the hall tree and the wall. “I won’t be here,” she blurted as she remembered her date with the oral surgeon.
He placed a hand on either side of her. “Then I’ll call back until you are.”
Lowering his mouth to hers, he imprinted her with a kiss that lingered on her lips until morning.
Chapter Sixteen
The next morning, Wyatt tucked his shirt into his jeans while he talked to Angela on speakerphone. “How’s Sean today?”
“He’s watching Shining Time Station right now, but we’re going to make a snowman in a little while.”
“I’ll come over and help.” He looped his belt around his waist. “And how’s Kara?”
“I’m glad you asked. It’s time for the surgery to be over, but I just heard from Marco and the bonehead slid his car into a ditch. He’s all right, but he’s waiting for the tow truck and won’t be able to pick Kara up. I was just going to call Mamma and see if she’ll go get Kara.”
Wyatt’s heart lodged in his throat as he imagined every possible scenario from angioplasty to rhinoplasty. What kind of surgery? Why hadn’t she told him about it? And once he found out for himself what was wrong, saw that she was all right, and got her safely home, he’d strangle her. He’d have to, or else she’d end up driving him crazy. Damn her and her stubborn independence.
“I’ll go.” As he started to cut the connection, he realized he didn’t know where he needed to go. “Where is she?”
Remembering Marco’s bad luck, Wyatt refused to rush and risk an accident on the way from his house to the oral surgeon’s. Maintaining the speed limit was quite a feat considering his head still reeled from the idea that something terrible might have been wrong. And once again, Kara had chosen not to tell him about it.
When he arrived at the clinic, the nurse said Kara was still asleep. Angela had called and explained the situation to the office staff. Wyatt received detailed instructions for the care of a patient following wisdom-teeth extraction.
Lying in a bed, pale and unconscious wasn’t anyone’s best look, but Wyatt’s heart melted. Kara looked fragile and sweet, and so much like Sean. It stripped her of the control she wore like armor, erasing the barrier she maintained between herself and others except in the most unguarded, intimate moments. Like they’d shared the day before.
“Ms. Enderley.” The nurse shook Kara’s shoulder. “Time to wake up.”
Kara moved her head back and forth and groaned as she swam back to consciousness from the anesthetic.
The dental tech helped Kara to a sitting position and then removed the hospital gown draped around her. She reached for a denim shirt on a hook. “Would you hand that to me?”
“I’ll help her.” He slipped the garment over the T-shirt Kara wore and knelt in front of her before buttoning it. She sat slumped over like a boneless ragdoll while he dressed her.
“Wyatt?” Kara said in a voice filled with uncertainty. Hand raised, she traced her fingers along his jaw line. “My Wyatt.” She patted his cheek. “You’re my Wyatt, aren’t you?”
“That’s right, love. How do you feel?”
“Sleepy. Ow.” Her fingers moved to her own jaw, and she frowned. “Sore.”
“I’m taking you home now.”
She allowed him to assist her in getting out to the car and into the house without complaint. Stepping inside her bedroom for the first time, his only gratification came from seeing the enormous Thayer painting hanging above her bed. He’d purchased and sent it to her after she returned to New York. The unexpected reminder of their first meeting slammed into him with all its memories until a small groan escaped from Kara. He turned to lift her up and place her in
the center of the bed. She made a remarkably docile patient for most of the day, only waking up long enough to take medication and plenty of liquids and replace the ice packs Wyatt kept on her jaws.
He remained close-at-hand in case she needed him, but of course, she didn’t. His concern for her faded to annoyance and then to anger as the hours passed. Just once he’d like for her to ask him for something, to include him in her life.
He was not going to be satisfied with bits and pieces.
A week after her oral surgery, Kara came home from an appointment to find Wyatt teaching Sean a game on the learning tablet. On some vague, unconscious level, she knew he’d brought her home from the clinic and stayed with her for as long as she needed him. Angela said he’d insisted on taking care of her himself. But just about the time she’d slept off the anesthetic, he disappeared.
Before they caught her watching them from the door of Sean’s room, she withdrew and tiptoed away. At the top of the stairs, she encountered Maria.
“You’re home early.” Today’s Tagliatti carried a basket of folded clothes. “I was just going to take these things to Sean’s room, and then feed him his supper. Do you want to do it?”
“No.” Kara could see Maria’s surprise. “I’ll be down soon. I have something I need to take care of first.”
Maria turned toward the nursery but said over her shoulder, “Mama sent over some ravioli. There’s more than enough, even if Wyatt wants to stay, too.”
“Sounds good.” Kara went inside her office and closed the door.
She covered her flaming cheeks with her hands, ashamed of herself for hiding out rather than risk running into Wyatt. But a lot of unfinished business stood between them with no satisfactory resolution on the horizon. And she didn’t want to deal with it.
Sitting down at her desk, she tapped her fingers. It would be foolish and dishonest for her to deny the desire she felt for him. She even acknowledged to herself that her feelings for him went beyond lust. But how could she separate her physical longings from her affection for him without putting herself, her heart, at risk?