Mad About The Man

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Mad About The Man Page 19

by Stella Cameron


  From the corner of his eye he saw the shape of Gaby's face whirling back in the direction from which she'd come, and the flash of her arms and legs as she started to run—toward the car.

  The growling became a rumble.

  Rockslide!

  "Damn!" He slammed on the brakes, killed the engine and threw open his door. "Run!"

  She barreled into him the instant he cleared the Jag's swinging door. "Get out of the way, Jacques! Quick! They'll hit you!"

  Jacques clutched her to him and ran. The roar of falling rocks continued. A scatter of pebbles rose up the road in front of them like a gray-white rim of surf.

  He stumbled. "Hold on to me!" The fine rocks worked like a runaway conveyer belt beneath his feet.

  Then, as quickly as the fall had begun, it stopped. Panting, Jacques drew to a halt and, holding Gaby to him, looked back.

  "Oh, my God," he murmured. "You might have been killed."

  Around his body, beneath the shirt, he felt her hands creep over his skin until she could hug him with more strength than she should have had.

  The Jag's headlights still shone on the pile of rubble that covered the road. The main part of the slide had been farther on. The edge of the heap formed a wall in front of the car with scree broadcast many yards uphill.

  Jacques rested his chin on top of Gaby's head. "Now I know how a parent feels when a kid runs across the road and almost gets killed."

  "You do?"

  "Yeah. I'd like to shake you till your teeth rattle." Her attempt at a laugh was pathetic. She shook steadily.

  "Did you honestly think you could walk all the way home?"

  "No. I knew you'd come after me. Then you wouldn't have any choice but to drive me home."

  "Is that a fact?" He looked down into her face. "You think you know how I'll react that well?"

  "Yes," she whispered.

  "Are you going to cry on me?"

  "I never cry."

  "Why was it so important to get home, Gaby?" He remembered Mae. "Damn, why didn't you remind me about Mae?"

  "That wasn't it. She's spending the night with her new best friend, Mary-Alice Healy."

  "The pain? The kid she hates?"

  Gaby chuckled. "That was before Shortcake. Mary-Alice loves Shortcake and Mae's being magnanimous enough to share. You've made quite a conquest in my little girl."

  "And she's made quite a conquest in me. But her mother's made more of a conquest." Carefully, reluctantly, he removed Gaby's arms, took her hand and led her back to the car.

  "We'll have to wait for morning to find a way down," he told her when they were settled.

  "I'm sorry, Jacques," Gaby said. "I'll try to stay out of your way till then."

  The hurricane lamp Jacques had lighted for Gaby before going to the shower cast leaping light and shadow over the walls of the sitting room next to his bedroom.

  She took a last look at the chart he'd left with her. "Your opinion is very important to me," he'd said. "Look this over and tell me what you think."

  It was perfect. That's what she thought. The primarily final plans he'd had drawn up offered Goldstrike the best of his ideas and saved the town from the worst. He needn't think she couldn't figure out that with his outrageous gift of a Jaguar, he'd set a trap to draw her up here where he could present his plan like a boy with a perfect report card.

  Gaby rolled up the chart. She'd already showered and was dressed in the top of a pair of red satin pajamas Jacques laughingly told her had been a gift from his flamboyant French mother.

  Off the sitting room was a small, glassed-in porch. Gaby let herself out and crossed the wooden floor to stand staring at the sky. The rain had stopped and, behind bands of smoke-black cloud, a hint of blue moonlight shone.

  "There you are." Closing the door to the sitting room behind him, Jacques came to stand beside her. With one towel he rubbed his hair. A second towel draped his hips. "What do you think? Will the plans pass, or should I find a place to hide?"

  "Why didn't you just tell me what you'd done?" she asked. "I even like the idea of the rustic hotel. It'll be perfect. And the golf course. A low-key destination resort is exactly right here. People will love a chance to get an idea what life was really like in a gold rush town. I can even see the dude ranch fitting in really well. You've got such clear vision, Jacques."

  He bent over and laughed.

  "What's funny?"

  Still laughing, he staggered to drop into a chaise. "Not so long ago you called me a man of vision and managed to make it sound like an insult. Boy, how times change."

  Gaby slid open a window and shivered a little. "They sure do." She felt an air of waiting. "What will you do next, Jacques? Is it back to candy and more candy, or will you be off on another quest to improve something?"

  He was quiet for a moment. "I'm not sure… Ouch! Oh, ouch!"

  "What is it?" Gaby hurried to his side. "What's the matter?"

  "This dam cut over my eyebrow. I must have opened it up again."

  "Let me see." Bending over him, she raised his face and peered to see the wound. "It's hard to see anything. But I don't think it's bleeding."

  "Are you sure?" His hands rested on her hips.

  "Sure."

  The silence that fell seemed filled with the beating of her heart.

  "Gaby, what do you want? For the future?"

  I want you. She hesitated. "I'm not sure." A he, but she didn't dare risk telling the truth.

  Jacques was quiet for a long time. "You surprise me."

  Gaby stepped away from Jacques and went to stand with her arms crossed on the rim of the open window. The cold breeze felt good. She didn't hear Jacques get up. When he settled his hands on her shoulders she jumped.

  "I think you do know what you want."

  This time her heart turned. "What's that?"

  His touch shifted, ran the length of her. He stood against her, tucked his fingers beneath the pajama top and smoothed the fronts of her thighs.

  "Jacques?"

  Skimming his fingertips upward, he feathered her tummy until she jerked back against him. Then he pressed down toward the center of her—until she gasped and tossed her head.

  "You want what I want. We're going to have to be together, Gaby. Why fight it?" Swiftly he undid the top and tested the weight of her breasts. "I'll do the things I have to do. You'll do the things you have to do."

  Gaby closed her eyes. He flipped his thumbs back and forth over her nipples, and white heat blasted all the way to her sagging knees.

  "You make it sound simple." And she wanted to believe it could be. Could she be content waiting for him to come from time to time, to share the loving from time to time—until he decided not to come anymore?

  He didn't speak again for a while.

  Gaby felt his towel disappear from between them, felt his hard body against her. Slowly he eased the pajama top above her hips and pressed a thigh between hers.

  Heat washed her skin, and blood and bones.

  "Jacques." With him, the loving was always fresh and uninhibited—and exquisite.

  "I'm never going to let you go," he whispered against her neck. "You're mine, Gaby. All mine. Let me in, sweetheart."

  Jacques held her hips and she felt the slipping of his skin on hers as he dipped behind her for an instant, then he filled her and the breath rushed from her lungs.

  When the pajama top tugged at her elbows, Gaby struggled free and tossed it aside. She clutched the window rim and cried out her ecstasy. And her cries joined Jacques.

  With him, there would never be any sameness. Their bodies rode together. If he hadn't held her, she would have fallen.

  She heard her own voice, calling his name, before she gave herself up to the tide neither of them could stop.

  "Do you remember what I told you… a long time ago?" Jacques said when the rippling aftershocks faded from their bodies. He carried her to the chaise and sat, cradling Gaby between his knees.

  "You've told me a lot of thing
s," she said. "But you can say them all again."

  "It was about my grandfather. How he once told me I'd meet my nemesis."

  "I remember."

  "And I said I might explain what he meant one day."

  She ran her fingers through the hair on his chest, traced it to his belly, and on.

  Jacques trapped her finger. "Later, sweetheart. I'm only human. My grandfather was talking about my apparent reluctance to get married. I told him I wasn't interested because I hadn't met anyone I wanted to spend the rest of my life with."

  Gaby looked at his handsome face in the faint moonlight. "You've got my attention."

  "Grandfather said the choice would be taken out of my hands when I met this nemesis he was so sure existed for me somewhere."

  "Go on."

  "Gladly. I'm cold. How about you?"

  "Sort of."

  Jacques kissed her slowly, deeply, running his hands up and down her back and tangling them in her hair. "Maddening hatter," he murmured.

  "What did you say?"

  "I said, could I persuade the little nemesis I love to come to bed?"

  Epilogue

  "Well?"

  "My god!" Jacques set his teeth.

  "Does that mean you like it?"

  He concentrated. "Maybe. Too soon to tell."

  "But this has possibilities," she said.

  "I'll have to run more complete tests before committing myself. Let me have some more." He glanced at her lowered eyelids, at flickering dark lashes and moist, parted lips.

  "The cautious approach." She murmured, kneeling beside him. "I like that."

  "Mmm, I wouldn't want to ruin my reputation."

  "Really?"

  "Really. But you're definitely getting to me." Oh, yes, definitely. "Mmm-mmm. That is… quite good. Maybe too much pleasure, too soon, isn't a great idea. Maybe I ought to be made to suffer—I mean, savor this very slowly."

  She laughed. "Believe me, Jacques. I intend to take a very long time… not that I'm sure you'll hold out."

  "You, madam, are presumptuous. I… ah." Sweet heaven, it was so damn good. "Lovely lady, you are one persuasive woman. I'm never going to get enough of this."

  "Jacques, I'm going to unwrap some more goodies."

  "Do it." The air was warm. He gradually filled his lungs. "This is certainly something new."

  "Don't tell me there's anything Ledan hasn't done. You're trying to make me feel good."

  "I do want to make you feel good. But this isn't just new… it's unique."

  "There are always boundaries to be pushed." She hooked an elbow over his shoulder. "And we're going to keep right on pushing them. Tell me what you think of this."

  He watched her peel away layers of delicate, lacy white.

  "Interesting?" She lightly touched what she'd revealed.

  "Beautiful," he said quietly. "Luscious. I'm starting to lose control here."

  "Lose it. Let it go. But first I want my turn at tasting."

  She bent over.

  Jacques narrowed his eyes, crammed his jaws shut—and listened to the sounds of satisfaction. "Enough," he said at last. "Leave something for me to work with, huh?"

  "You'll manage nicely." Raising her head, she pressed close. "Luscious, you said?"

  "Yeah." He looked again at what she held, partly concealed with her fingers. "Good enough to eat."

  "Great. Have you ever considered how much influence scent has on appeal?"

  "Some."

  "Tell me how the smell of this affects you?"

  She knew what she was doing. Not a word had been spoken without careful consideration of the effect it would have on him. Jacques turned his face into softness.

  "Oh, lady," he murmured. "I don't even know what the scent is, but I like it."

  "Open your mouth." Deliberately looking straight ahead, he did as she asked. She drew in a breath. "That's the way, Jacques. More. More!"

  He tasted, tested textures with the tip of his tongue, and felt his senses slipping away.

  She withdrew, evaded his grabbing hand. "Patience." She shifted. "Now this. Don't be greedy. Ah, oh, yes, yes! You like that as much as I do?" Jacques sucked, willing his eyes to stay open. "Tell me about it," she said.

  He made a circle with his tongue and drew back to take a breath. "Smooth. But it's the hard center that really turns me on."

  "Ever the man of great taste." She waited while he worked his lips and tongue some more. "And from what I'm looking at you're never going to have any difficulty rising to this kind of occasion."

  Jacques shook his head, feeling vaguely drunk.

  "You say you're the best judge," she told him. "Prove it. Tell me how to make this one unforgettable."

  "You're not going to give me any time to think, are you?"

  "No. You don't want me to. We have great ingredients here. I'd say the results are going to be better than our wildest dreams."

  "You haven't seen my dreams. Ouch!"

  "Sorry." She giggled. "Following an impulse."

  "You'll kill both of us."

  "No way. Trust me. Give me your hand."

  He did as she asked.

  "Feel this. Tell me what this is?"

  "Silk?" Jacques's legs weakened. "And this is satin, pure satin. But I don't remember doing a test like this blind. Should I feel some more?"

  "Oh, yes. Go ahead. It's all yours."

  "The whole thing?"

  "Uh-huh. Go on. Indulge yourself."

  "This is a soft center," he said, barely able to breathe. "The best kind. Soft and sweet and just right."

  Her cry closed his eyes. "You're definitely going to kill us both," he told her.

  "What a hell of a way to go," she almost sobbed. "There's always something left to try, Jacques. And I've got an idea that's going to send you into orbit." He believed her.

  When she moved, it was so suddenly, he yelled and flailed. "You crazy female! What—?"

  White lace flew, yards and yards of white lace threaded with beige satin ribbon. Then Gaby sat astride his lap, the voluminous skirts of her wedding gown hiked up to her waist.

  "Nut," he told her, grappling for control. Long, tight sleeves still clung demurely to her arms, but the tiny pearl buttons that had closed her bodice were no longer in use. Jacques looked directly at his wife's beautiful, naked breasts and clenched his muscles against arousal.

  Gaby pulled off the white tie he'd already undone and opened his dress shirt. "I don't intend you ever to get bored." Her green, green eyes, glittered. "Are you bored?"

  "No," he managed to sputter. "Afraid of imminent death, but not bored. Never bored with you. If you'll move, just a little, we might want to change one or two things about this treat."

  "With pleasure."

  He looked past her shoulder at a landscape that seemed to dip crazily. She was frying his mind—and other parts.

  "Is this enough of a move?" Running her hands over her breasts, Gaby leaned back and looked down.

  Heat exploded in him. The pale pink roses edging creamy silk stockings matched the flowers in her hair. Her garters were pink, too… almost the color of the puckered nipples on a level with his mouth.

  "Okay, you crazy, sexy woman. Finish it!"

  "With pleasure." She showed perfect, small teeth resting together. "Oh, Jacques, my love, always with pleasure."

  Gaby had already made the necessary part of him available… and ready.

  Jacques moved his right foot. "Wait!"

  "I can't!"

  Fragile pink panties tore. Gaby filled herself with him.

  "Hell!"

  The whole world exploded. Jacques's hips rose off the seat of their own accord. At the same instant he managed to slam on the brakes.

  "Oh, hell," he heard himself shout. And he heard Gaby laugh while the Jeep shuddered to a stop.

  In the seconds that followed, all he heard were Gaby's moans and his own rasping breath.

  When the hot tide broke and rippled over them, he clasped her aga
inst him. "Most people would have waited till they got where they were going," he gasped into her wildly tossed hair.

  "No fun."

  "No," he agreed. "Not nearly as much fun. It's a good job I know this flat old road with my eyes closed."

  "They were closed for a while there."

  He gripped her arms and made enough space to allow him to see her. "Do you know how much I love you?"

  "Yes. More than your life."

  "Good. Do I know how much you love me?"

  "Yes. More than my life."

  "That's great. Glad we got it settled. Do you want to explain what made you decide to try and kill us in a Jeep on our wedding day?"

  Gaby wiggled, with predictable results. "There was never any danger." She watched his eyes, his mouth, and leaned to kiss him slowly. "Mmm. So good. But Jeeps don't count."

  "What?" Jacques struggled to sit straighter.

  "Jeeps don't count toward ultimate challenge," Gaby said, squinting thoughtfully. "But horseback will."

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