The Thorntons Box Set

by Nic Saint

  He called his son Roland, the only one he’d decided to take into his confidence in this matter of the greatest importance.

  “Roland? Something’s come up. I need you in Alaska. Yesterday.”

  Chapter 7

  Chloe watched as the outskirts of Heartford came into view. She’d thoroughly enjoyed the last couple of days on board, getting to appreciate Jackson as a man who not only proved a surprisingly wonderful conversationalist, but also a man who could be tender and sweet once you got to know him. Beneath that gruff exterior lurked a kind and gentle giant, who had swept her off her feet in next to no time.

  The only thing that had surprised her was that he hadn’t pressed his suit after the brief kiss they’d shared that first day.

  She’d expected—nay, hoped—to get to know the man in the biblical sense as well as the social sense, but each time she’d indicated she was ready to take their budding friendship to the next level, he’d balked with a smile, and had found some way to extricate himself from her advances.

  Odd, she felt. Usually it wasn’t she who had to pursue the guy. As the only daughter of Jack Thornton, one of the best-known billionaires in the country, she’d had to fight men off with a stick all her life, and until she’d been wrongfully accused of having had an affair with her older brother, she’d never had trouble engaging any guy’s interest.

  And yet Jackson seemed oddly detached from the physical aspects of the love between a man and a woman, stating as some sort of nebulous excuse the one time she’d confronted him about this that he was an old-fashioned sort of guy.

  What being old-fashioned had to do with anything was beyond her, but she’d decided not to push the issue. If he wasn’t interested in her that way, she would have to come to terms with that. He clearly wanted to keep their relationship strictly professional and lodged firmly in the friend zone.

  He was, perhaps, not actually interested in her. Which made her feel oddly dejected before accepting the reality of the situation and deciding to simply deal with it. She wasn’t everyone’s type, she knew, and obviously she wasn’t Jackson’s.

  Still, they’d shared meals, had trod the measure at the nightly parties, and had perambulated the deck, getting to know one another so well that sometimes she felt as if she’d known the man forever.

  A small church cupola appeared in the distance, which struck her as odd. “People around here very religious?” she inquired as she lowered her head to see through the windshield.

  “Huh? Oh, that.” He laughed. “That’s not a church, in case you’re wondering. It’s the local theater.”

  She frowned. “Theater? In Alaska?”

  He laughed again. “People do have culture here, you know. We’re not all ignorant hicks.”

  She blushed. “No, I didn’t mean to imply that—I mean it’s just that I thought—”

  He threw her a pointed look. “I know what you meant to imply and it’s all right. You’ll be surprised to find Heartford quite a lively and cultured town in more than one respect. We have a cinema here—not a multiplex, but still—a library, theater, and even a bookshop where you can find all the latest bestsellers. We even have book signings from time to time.”

  Chloe perked up at this. The first houses had now appeared and she was surprised to find them nicer than she’d expected, a lot of them sturdy brick structures that appeared either new or newly restored. As they were driving down Main Street, she noticed plenty of storefronts—a barber shop, grocery shop, a couple of restaurants, convenience store and even a small hotel.

  “This town looks quite… prosperous,” she ventured, and couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice.

  “Well, that’s because it is. It wasn’t always,” he explained as she took it all in with wide-eyed interest. “A couple of years ago the town was actually on the verge of collapse, unemployment high and young people leaving in droves.”

  “What turned it around?”

  “We had an investor come in and take a long hard look at the place and determine it ideal to relocate both himself and his business here. He started putting money in some of the floundering businesses that already existed and set up a few new ones and managed to get life pumping through this town’s old veins again.”

  Chloe could detect the pride in Jackson’s voice, and she didn’t wonder. The more she saw of the town, the more she liked what she saw. They passed a small park with a bandstand at its heart, benches liberally strewn about the meandering paths. People were milling about, soaking up the rays, walking their dogs or watching their kids play and run riot in the playground.

  It all looked very lovely and homely, she thought. Really the kind of place to raise a family. The thought surprised her. She’d never given one hoot about traditional values before, and now suddenly she was watching a young mother reading a book on a bench, absently rocking a pram, and she felt a sudden yearning in her heart. That woman could be her, she thought.

  Then she shook off the alien sensations and decided to focus on what was real. “So did you build many of these houses?”

  Jackson had stopped at a red light and rolled down his window as an old-timer crossed the street. The old man held up his arm in salute. “Hey, there, Chief!” he shouted, and Jackson returned the gesture with a lazy twiddle of his fingers.

  “Hey, Stuart. How’s things?”

  “Just fine, Chief!” the other yelled back.

  “Say hi to Ella for me.”

  “Will do!” Shuffling into the First Bank, Stuart disappeared from view, and Chloe eyed Jackson strangely.

  “Are you…”

  Jackson chuckled amusedly. “Yep. I’m chief of police of this small hamlet.”

  “You didn’t tell me.”

  He shrugged. “Figured it wasn’t all that important.”

  She eyed him with renewed interest. The man never ceased to surprise her. “Don’t tell me. You’re the local headmaster, mayor and head of the small business association as well?”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Well…”

  She shook her head in mock desperation. “I knew it. You’re running this entire town. Next thing you’ll tell me you’re that savvy investor who saved the place.”

  He merely smiled an enigmatic smile and she shook her head, getting the distinct impression this wasn’t the last surprise the man had in store for her.

  Chapter 8

  They’d arrived at the small brick house Jackson called his own, and Chloe exited the vehicle excitedly, her eyes riveted on the charming construction. Whatever else his skills were, the man could definitely build a house. Sturdy and comprising two floors in all, with picturesque yellow-trimmed windows with grass-green shutters, it looked even better than she’d expected, her keen sense of artistry piqued.

  She let her eyes roam across the neat front yard, complete with smooth turf, a smattering of winter-hardy lilies springing up throughout and even a miniature pond, presided over by an angel with harpsichord. A cobblestoned path lead to an oak front door with brass knocker.

  “It looks like something from a fairy tale,” she gasped. She pointed to the roof. “You even have a chimney that would put a smile on Santa’s face.”

  “Can’t have a house without a chimney,” offered Jackson, visibly pleased with her enthusiastic response to the house he’d built.

  As he watched her take in the structure, he wistfully hoped she’d make this place the home it could be—should be. He’d built a house, yes, but it wasn’t a home until it contained a family, and for some reason he couldn’t see anyone else sharing it with him than this lovely woman he’d met just days before.

  “I’m glad you like it,” he finally said.

  “Like it? I love it!” she exclaimed, and practically skipped up to the white picket fence to open the fence gate.

  Slinging it wide, she stepped onto the cobblestone path like Alice on the first part of her journey to Wonderland. She carefully stepped from stone to stone to reach the small pond and stared down, then squealed
, “You actually have fish in here!”

  “Of course I do. Why else would I install a pond!”

  He slammed the car door and walked round to the back to retrieve their luggage. By the time he’d carted the suitcases up to the house, she’d already disappeared around the back along the brick pathway he’d just finished laying along the side of the house.

  He opened the front door and carried the two valises inside, then walked straight on through to the living room and opened the sliding window to step out onto the terrace.

  He watched in amusement as Chloe stood in the middle of the garden, taking in the sights with such relish on her face, he simply couldn’t stand it anymore. Joining her in three steps, he easily swept her off her feet and carried her back toward the house, ignoring her yelps of surprise.

  She curled her arms around his neck as he carried her across the threshold and into the house. It wasn’t exactly the door, but it still counted, he figured. Then he gently set her down, and lowered his lips to hers. This was what he’d been waiting for all this time, but wait he could no longer.

  The moment Chloe came face to face with the back yard, her heart was lost to the place. A terrace neatly hugged the house and then morphed into a patch of green, exquisitely lined with flower beds, splashes of vivid color, a copse of spruce trees residing over the back fence, dwarfing a swing. Beyond it, she could see green stretch out as far a mountain range in the distance, and she thought for a moment she’d arrived in paradise.

  The Thornton estate on Long Island was impressive enough, but its gardens were regal, not homely, and she’d never felt quite at ease enough to go out and play in them, the gardener giving her and her siblings the evil eye lest they destroyed his immaculate turf or his meticulously maintained flower beds.

  It was a place to boast and to impress, not one to entertain children, and she’d always lamented the lack of a ‘normal’ garden like other kids had, to play and cavort.

  As she stared out across Jackson’s small piece of land, she realized this was exactly the kind of garden she’d envisioned as a child. And when Jackson unexpectedly strode up to her and lifted her clear from the springy lawn, she felt her heart sing and her spirits soar. So far away from home, she’d found home, and in the most unlikeliest place.

  He romantically carried her across the threshold into his house, and when he returned her feet to earth, his lips were on hers and she welcomed the gesture with a ferocity that surprised even herself.

  At fist his kiss was warm and gentle, a mere touch, but then something shifted, and she felt his gentleness give way to an urgency she felt mirrored in herself. He was strong and firm and clinging to him she felt like a wildflower hugging a rock, and as she pressed her soft breasts against the hardness of his chest, she felt his desire build in equal measure with her own.

  Lifting her off the floor once again, she clung her legs around his waist, as their tongues explored, giving way to the passion they’d both been feeling for days now, this time brooking no argument from either.

  His tongue sought the depths, exploring her mouth, as her own tongue meshed with his, and as she pressed herself firmly against him, they were moving again as he carried her up a flight of stairs. Arriving on the landing, he carried her inside the bedroom, and gently laid her down on the quilt. Breathing heavily, she spread her arms, bunching the soft material under her fingers. She watched as he quickly pulled his sweater over his head and made short shrift of his shirt and then he was naked from the waist up, his torso finely chiseled in stone, a living statue, and she gasped at his corded arms, all finely rippling muscles, his chest and shoulders broad and wide, his belly taut and hard.

  The man was a god. And he was going to make love to her, a mere mortal.

  She wriggled out of her own sweater, and then he was all over her again. Bending over her, his mouth took hers again, plundering her deeply as his hands freely moved across her chest, cupping her small breasts through the filmy material of her blouse. And then he was freeing her from the garments and she was down to her slip and bra, writhing beneath him on the bed, and as his roving eyes sought her form, she unclasped her bra and ever so slowly revealed herself to him.

  A gasp escaped his throat as her pert tits sprang from the confines of the lacy bra, and then she pulled down her panties and was naked before him, his eyes dark now with lust and desire as his hands cupped and kneaded, his calloused fingers gentle on her silky porcelain skin, probing her tender flesh.

  We’re going to make love, she thought in a flash, and heat spread through her loins as she caught sight of his towering cock, hard and erect like a sculpted thing of raw power. And extreme girth, she discovered with giddiness. God, the man was hung like a frickin’ horse!

  The surprises just kept on coming, didn’t they?

  Chapter 9

  There is a tide in the affairs of men, which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune, Jackson thought as he watched Chloe spread out before him on his bed, naked and ready. This was that tide, and instead of fortune, he knew this moment would lead to love instead. And as he took her mouth, he felt his heart beating in his chest so loudly, he thought Chloe must surely be hearing it, for it was beating for her, and for this moment.

  He’d loved her from the first moment he laid eyes on her on the ship. He’d seen that hauntingly beautiful look in her eyes, that sweet sadness, and the day she’d been ready to jump into the icy Gulf of Alaska he’d come to the rescue not merely to save a stranger, but to save himself, for he would never have been able to forgive himself if he’d allowed any harm to come to her, even by her own hand.

  He’d vowed not only to save her life, but to offer her a glimpse of what she might cherish, a different life than the one so obviously crushing her.

  He hadn’t high hopes, or even a high opinion of himself, but he did know he had to try—had to bring her out here where life was simple and beautiful. To see if she might not take to this life the same way he had in a distant past, and if she might share this life with him—his dreams with him—and his bed.

  And now here she lay, beautiful beyond words, and his for the taking, and he let his hands roam across her lithe body, light as a feather and pale as the moon, her nubile tits yielding to the pressure of his fingers and then his mouth as he put his lips to her nipples, stirring them to erectness with the merest touch and then suckling, licking his way across her chest as his fingers curved lower, gently fingering her tender lips and caressing her shivering flower.

  Kissing his way down, he licked inside her belly button, then across her mound to the gently sloping crevasse that hid her inner blossom, and as he arched his tongue between her silky labia, a droplet of nectar was his reward and he eagerly drank it and then went back for more, and when she spread her thighs, he quaffed deeply from the honey between them and slid his way inside the tunnel that hid her sex.

  “Oh, Jackson,” she murmured, fisting her hands in his hair as his traced along her body until they reached her breasts and he cupped them lovingly, splaying his fingers to gently squeeze her pink nipples. She placed her own hands atop his and as she writhed beneath him, she willed him on with moan and gesture and when he flicked his tongue along her swollen bud, and then again and sucked her in, she rewarded him with her first climax and flooded his tongue with her hot lubrication and he drank it with relish.

  “Fuck me, Jackson,” she urged as she came down from the heights, her eyes imploring him to take her then.

  She felt the ripples of her orgasm crest inside her small frame, and when Jackson reared up and directed his burgeoning rod at the entrance to her core, she arched up to welcome him inside the seething cauldron of her sex. She was so hot for him she was afraid his cock might be singed the moment he entered her. Ever so carefully, he splayed her lips with the thick glans topping his majestic shaft, and when he finally disappeared between her folds and entered the slick confines of her vagina, she felt as if she was going to come again, so intense was the pleasure of feeling him
moving inside her.

  “Oh, yes,” she cried, her hands pawing her tits and tugging at her nipples as he rolled all the way inside, straight to the hilt, and she felt his cockhead kiss her cervix, so big was he, and still he fit all the way inside. She’d never felt so filled and so fulfilled as she was now, with Jackson pressing the throbbing heat of his manhood up against the walls of her vagina.

  And then they were really fucking, for the very first time, as he rocked and rolled inside her, sliding all the way out only to move in deeper again, the tempo increasing as their pleasure mounted, the ridges at the edge of his glans stimulating the outer walls of her cunt each time he drew out and again as he plunged into her again.

  “Oh, God, Chloe,” he breathed against her lips. “You’re so beautiful, honey. So fucking beautiful.”

  As he pummeled her soaking wet cunt, her juices coating his veiny cock, the sloppy sounds reverberating around the master bedroom, she was thrown into another climax as she felt his cock swell even more, her cunt lips squeezing around him, pulsating and sucking him in deeper each time. And then she cried out in the ecstasy of orgasm and as she did, she sensed that he, too, was on the verge. And then he did come, and they kissed voraciously, sweat and saliva providing an intoxicating mix as they lay in union, breathing hard and laughing in the aftermath.

  “Finally,” she murmured as she snuggled against his chest. “To tell you the truth I thought you weren’t really interested in me, Jackson.”

  “I had my reasons to wait,” he whispered, kissing her temple and circling a protective arm around her shoulders as he pulled her close.

  Whatever his reasons were, Chloe decided lazily as her eyes drifted closed, she was glad he’d finally taken the plunge. “Any longer and I would have self-combusted,” she confessed.

  “Same thing here,” he chuckled. “You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met, Chloe.” He paused and swung an arm to encompass the room. “Welcome to your home for the next days—weeks—months…”