Jenny blushed again, but this time from pleasure. “You really think so?”
“I know so.”
She laughed, then hugged Cynthia close. “I hope Jonathan is right.”
“I’ll bet he is,” her sister told her.
Lucinda walked into the living room. She’d pulled on a coat over her uniform. “Mr. Jonathan, I put dinner in the refrigerator. It needs forty minutes at 350.” She winked at Cynthia. “I don’t know why I’m telling him. As if he’s going to be the one to heat up the food.” She looked at Jenny. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yes.” Jenny slipped off her high heels, then walked over to her backpack. She put on the loafers waiting there then shrugged into her jacket and tucked her pumps into a shoebox.
“Are you sure about taking Jenny home?” Cynthia asked. “I can do it.”
“No.” Lucinda dismissed her with a wave. “I’m going to an early show at the movies and your house is right on my way. Come on, little one. I’ll give you advice about boys on the way over.”
They said their goodbyes and left. When Jonathan and Cynthia were alone, they both shifted awkwardly in the suddenly quiet room.
“I’m sorry about what I said the other day,” she said quickly while avoiding his gaze. “I was judging you and that’s wrong. Despite your lack of relationship with your brother, you must still be in shock over his death. It’s going to take time to come to terms with that. You’ve also had to get used to the idea of being a father. Most men have about nine months to absorb that information, but you’ve had less than a month. It makes sense that you need more time.”
He stared at her. She seemed fascinated by the CD player, studying it with an intensity of a scientist viewing a new form of life.
“How can you make excuses for me?” he asked. “I was cruel to you.”
“You were in shock.”
“I was out of line and I’m sorry.” Like a wounded animal, he’d lashed out. For as long as he lived he would never forget her stricken expression when he’d told her he wasn’t interested in playing house. “You were right about a lot of things you said a few days ago. About Colton.” He hesitated. “I don’t know what I’m going to do about him, but I don’t want to repeat my father’s mistakes.”
She finally looked up at him and smiled. “I’m glad.”
Her hazel-green eyes glowed with adoration. It was something he didn’t want to see there because it made it too easy for him to imagine how amicable she would be to almost any suggestions. And since meeting her, he’d had several in mind.
“Dance with me,” he said before he could stop himself.
Instead of answering, she pushed a button on the CD player, then adjusted a knob. Soft music filled the room. She moved toward him and he took her in his arms.
She felt so right next to him, he thought, wishing she were older and more experienced. If she were more in his league he wouldn’t have to feel so guilty about his desire. Yet if she was different, he wasn’t sure he would want her as much.
But the scent of her intoxicated him and made him want more. He rubbed his thumb against her palm as they danced. She shuddered.
“Hell,” he muttered, then abandoned the waltz and drew her close. They were barely moving in the center of the living room. Her breasts pressed into his chest, burning him, making him ache. His arousal was as instant as it was hard. Her stomach barely touched him there and he wanted to press against her—as if that would ease his need.
“Talk about something,” he commanded, desperate for a distraction.
“What?” Her voice sounded dreamy. “Oh. Okay. Well, Colton had a doctor’s appointment today. It was just a well-baby checkup. Fortunately he’s been healthy since birth. He’s right where he should be as far as height, weight and development. The doctor agreed with me on starting him on solid food pretty soon.”
He looked down at her upraised face. “You mentioned that before.”
She nodded. “Switching over is necessary, but the baby has to be ready to make the change. If we begin too early, it will be a fight and we’re potentially setting up years of battling over food. If we start too late, he could be fussy about what kind of foods he enjoys.” She smiled. “Even if it goes well, I have to warn you that it’s a very messy proposition.”
We. She kept saying we, as if he had a part in all this. “I know I have to make some changes to include Colton in my life,” he said. “I’m not sure what they’re going to be.”
“You don’t have to decide today. He’s not going anywhere. Just don’t take too long.”
Forgiveness glowed in her eyes. Forgiveness and something he wanted to believe was desire.
“Don’t be so softhearted where I’m concerned,” he said gruffly. “You’re letting me off the hook too easily.”
“I can’t help what I feel,” she said.
He wanted to say the same thing, but couldn’t. This wasn’t right, he told himself, even as he wanted to find a way to make it, if not correct, then possible.
“I’m not worth it,” he said.
“You are to me.”
She stared up at him as if he had the power to light up the sky. Her words told him everything—that she was his for the taking. He knew he was the biggest bastard alive, but he wasn’t ready to cross that line yet. Not with someone so close to innocent.
He came to a stop in the center of the room, then cupped her face in his hands. “All I want to do is take you upstairs and make love with you,” he admitted. “You have to tell me no.”
“Why?”
The single word cut him down to his soul. He sucked in a breath. “Because you haven’t been with many men and I’m more than capable of seducing you.”
She smiled. A sweet, feminine smile that spoke of the power of surrender. “Who says you’d have to try?”
He told himself to fight her acquiescence. He told himself to be a better man than he wanted and walk away. He told himself he wouldn’t be able to face himself in the mirror if he did this. Then he realized he didn’t care about any of that. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anyone before.
He swore under his breath and swung her up in his arms. She gave a soft cry of surprise, then snuggled against him. As he carried her out of the room, she reached out and snagged the baby monitor resting on a table, then wrapped her arms around him.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered in his ear. “I trust you.”
“That,” he told her, “is the problem.”
Chapter 10
This was the perfect conclusion to the fairy tale that had started in her rented Cinderella gown, Cynthia thought dreamily as Jonathan carried her upstairs. The handsome prince had, if not fallen in love with her, certainly begun to care. Now, overwhelmed by passion, he wanted to make love with her.
Thousands of thoughts floated through her brain, but she couldn’t catch on to any one of them. Which was fine. She just wanted to close her eyes and get lost in the wonder of being held in Jonathan’s strong arms. He was everything she’d ever wanted in a man. Not only was he intelligent and capable, but he didn’t always insist on being right. After she’d explained the problem with Colton and how he had to start to bond with the boy, Jonathan had actually listened. While it would be difficult for him, he was going to let go of the past enough to let his nephew into his life.
“What are you thinking?” Jonathan asked as he stopped and let her slide to her feet.
She opened her eyes and looked around. They were in his bedroom. At least she assumed it was his—she’d never actually been inside this room before. But if the huge four-poster bed and slightly masculine furnishings were anything to go by, this was where Jonathan slept.
Her gaze wandered around the room, then returned to the bed. As she took in the dimensions of the mattress, a few drops of reality trickled down her spine. Bed…mattress…as in sex? She swallowed.
“Cynthia?”
“What? Oh, you wanted to know what I was thinking. Right.” Except she c
ouldn’t remember. She took a step back and clutched the baby monitor to her chest. “Colton was up all morning with the doctor’s visit. He seemed to really enjoy himself there. All the activity, I guess. Anyway, he’ll probably sleep a little longer than usual this afternoon. Maybe for another hour or so.”
She blinked several times as she stared at Jonathan and hoped she didn’t look as stupid as she felt. Were they going to do it? Not that she didn’t want to. While they’d been dancing together she’d felt all warm and melty inside. But dancing was very different from “the act.”
“You’re scared,” he said flatly.
“Scared is a little too strong. I’m nervous.” More nervous than she was willing to let on. Jonathan had hinted that he knew she was inexperienced, which was true, but she doubted he had a clue about how inexperienced. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that he’d closed the door behind them. It was very private. They were completely alone. Was that a good thing?
He smiled. “Do you remember me telling you that I was as dangerous as a wolf and that I could hurt you? You stood up to me, saying that would never happen. Have you changed your mind?”
She swallowed again. “Not exactly. It’s just this is, well, different.”
“Do you want to leave? I won’t pressure you to stay. It’s your decision.”
She hated that. Couldn’t he just seduce her? Except Jonathan was too good a man for that. He wouldn’t kiss her and touch her, making her so weak and aroused that she no longer had possession of her senses. Instead he forced her to act like an adult and accept the consequences of her actions.
Resolutely she walked over to the nightstand and put down the baby monitor. She adjusted the volume button, then turned to face him. “I want this,” she said, her voice shaking only a little.
He smiled and crossed the floor to stand in front of her. “I’m guessing you haven’t been with a man like me before,” he said. “By that I mean someone older and a lot more experienced.”
“Right on the first try.” She was trying for sophisticated but had the bad feeling that she sounded breathy and nervous instead.
“I promise to go slowly. If you don’t like something I’m doing or if you want me to do it differently, just tell me. I want this to be good for you.”
“Okay.”
What she wanted was for it to be over, she thought, but doubted he would want to hear that. Jonathan reached for her. There was a split second of hesitation on his part, as if he was giving her one last chance to change her mind. Cynthia quickly searched her heart and mind. Was this what she wanted? She’d waited twenty-six years before making love with a man. Was this the right time for her?
Then his arms were around her and he was drawing her close to him. As she moved into his embrace and the now familiar warmth of his body surrounded her, she had the sensation of coming home. As if being with this man was her one best and true destiny. She didn’t want anyone else to touch her or kiss her. Only Jonathan. Not just because he was so handsome, but because he was so good on the inside. Because all her life she’d been waiting for someone to feel as right to her as Frank had felt to her mother. And Jonathan was that man.
He brushed her mouth with his. The searing heat surprised her and forced her up onto her toes. She pressed against him so they were touching from shoulder to knee. She needed to be close. She needed to feel her breasts flatten against his chest and his lips exploring hers. She angled her head and parted her mouth, wanting him inside of her.
His hands splayed against her back. She clung to his shoulders. His tongue brushed against the inside of her lower lip, then dipped into her mouth. When he stroked her she gasped and opened wider, needing the contact.
The touch of his tongue was as magical as she remembered. The heat increased until she thought she might be on fire. She could feel flames of desire licking along her arms and legs. Warmth pooled in her breasts, and lower, in her belly.
Conscious thought seemed to flee her brain. She couldn’t think in sentences, only in pictures and impressions. He still wore his suit jacket and she suddenly needed that layer of clothing gone. She slipped her hands under the lapels and pushed it down his arms. He released her long enough to shrug out of the garment.
Then his hands returned to her body, but this time they weren’t still. He stroked her back, moving up and down until he cupped her rear and pulled her against him. She arched into him, her belly flat against him. Her attention focused on that most male part of him. She wanted to know if he was aroused…as he had been the last time.
Pleasure shot through her as she felt a hard ridge nestling against her stomach. He rubbed back and forth, then groaned. As if touching her excited him. Her! She was barely knowledgeable enough to know how to kiss, yet she’d managed to turn him on.
He placed his hands on her waist and urged her forward. She felt him bump into the bed, then he settled onto the mattress and pulled her into the vee of his open legs. She went willingly. His hands moved from her waist to the hem of her sweatshirt. There was a slight tug.
She opened her eyes. Jonathan sat at eye level. Even as she watched him watch her, he drew her shirt up and over her head. Her throat went dry and she had to fight to keep from raising her hands to cover herself. Although she’d had boyfriends before, things had never really progressed much past kissing. Any contact with her breasts had been made through layers of clothing. Certainly no one had been bold enough to simply start undressing her.
Still, some of her nervousness eased when Jonathan stared at her peach lace bra and swallowed. “You’ve got something against plain white cotton?” he asked.
She frowned. “Is that what you prefer?”
“Not at all, but at least then I might have a chance at controlling myself. Although with you, I have my doubts.” He leaned forward and placed a kiss on the exposed skin of her left breast. “So very pretty,” he murmured.
She’d never thought of her body as anything but functional. Did he really think she was pretty? But before she could ask, he reached behind her and expertly unfastened her bra. No tugging, no fumbling. In fact that man did it better than she did.
And then the scrap of lace and straps was gone and the cool late-afternoon air moved against her breasts. He could see her, she thought in amazement, then clamped her eyes shut. He might be able to see her, but she certainly did not want to see him.
“Kiss me,” he murmured, drawing her against him again.
She did as he requested, trying not to think about her bare breasts. But for the moment he seemed to be ignoring them in favor of her back. His strong, warm hands moved up and down her bare skin. The contact made her shiver, but in a good way. He traced her spine, then slipped around her waistband and up her ribs.
She couldn’t think about the kiss anymore. She could only focus on the feel on his hands moving higher and higher. She stopped breathing. What was it going to feel like? Would she like it when he touched her there. She froze, her lips a scant inch from his. Then his fingers found her curves and he stroked her tight nipples.
A hot, electric shiver raced through her. Every cell in her body turned its attention to her puckered, sensitive nipples that had suddenly become the center of her being. He stroked and teased so lightly, yet everything he did was wonderful.
She continued not to breathe, but now from pleasure rather than panic. She was terrified that if she moved in any way, he would stop.
“Do you like that?” he asked.
She risked opening her eyes and saw that he was looking at her. Without thinking, she glanced down and saw his tanned fingers moving against her pale breasts. Instantly a hot blush flared and she made to cover herself.
“Don’t,” he said softly. “I was wrong. You’re more than pretty, you’re beautiful. I want to look and touch and make you feel everything possible. I want you as hungry for me as I am for you.” He cupped her curves and used his thumbs to continue to tease her nipples. “Do you like it?” he asked again.
“Yes,
” she forced out, barely able to speak for all the sensations washing through her. “A lot.”
He chuckled, then ducked his head. Before she knew what he was going to do, he leaned forward and drew her nipple into his mouth. His lips closed around her and he sucked very gently.
Cynthia felt her mouth drop open. She’d read about this of course, but reading and experiencing had little in common. She always thought the idea of a man doing something like that was a little silly and…
His tongue circled her, then flicked over the tight peak. She breathed his name and decided that she really needed to expand her horizons and keep trying new things. This wasn’t silly at all. It was wonderful.
She felt as if her core temperature had increased about ten degrees. Her thighs trembled. Between her legs was a dampness she couldn’t remember having many times before, along with a persistent ache she’d noticed earlier. She felt sort of squirmy and tense, but also languid in a way that made her unconcerned when he moved to her other breast and suckled that nipple.
Slowly she brought her hands up to cup his face. She felt the faint rasp of stubble and the crisp cool ends of his dark hair. She explored the shape of his ears and the feel of the skin at the back of his neck.
When he pushed her away, her first thought was that he’d changed his mind. But before she could panic, he’d dropped to one knee and was unfastening her shoes. When she stepped out of them, he pulled off her socks, then returned to the bed.
His fingers sought the button at the waistband of her jeans. It unfastened as easily as her bra. Next he lowered her zipper. Large, masculine hands pushed down her jeans and panties in one, smooth movement. The next thing she knew, she was standing completely naked in front of him.
There wasn’t time to be nervous, though. Before the first panicky thought could form, she was back in his arms and he was kissing her. He urged her to straddle his thighs and she went willingly, settling her weight on him. The position left her feeling a little vulnerable, especially when one of his hands rested on her bare leg. But the kissing was so good and there was always the hope that he would touch her breasts again, so she really didn’t mind…even as he began to move higher and higher.
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