The Irresistible Mr. Sinclair

by Joan Elliott Pickart

  “Sweetheart...” He stared up at the ceiling for a long moment, then smiled when he met her gaze again. “Right now I’m putty in your hands. I’d rob a bank for you if you asked me to. Turn off the light.”

  “Thank you,” she said, matching his smile.

  Janice crossed the room to the bed, threw back the spread and blanket to reveal mint-green sheets, then snapped off the lamp on the nightstand. Darkness fell instantly over the room.

  The only sound was the rustle of clothes being removed and the echo of racing hearts in their ears.

  Their eyes adjusted to the darkness, making it possible to close the distance between them and reach eagerly for the one they ached for, needed, wanted beyond measure.

  A sigh of pure pleasure escaped Janice’s lips as she stepped into Taylor’s embrace, her breasts crushing with a sweet pain against the hard wall of his chest. His skin was moist and covered with crisp curls that caused her breasts to tingle. His legs were so powerful and his arousal was heavy and full.

  He wanted her, Janice’s heart and mind sang. Without seeing her, judging her appearance, this magnificent man wanted her. Her.

  Taylor sought and found Janice’s lips as his hands roamed over her dewy, velvet-soft skin. The darkness heightened his senses, creating the most erotic, sensual aura he’d ever experienced.

  He could feel Janice’s breasts pressed to his chest, the womanly bounty far more than he’d ever imagined she was hiding beneath her baggy clothes.

  He inhaled her lingering scent of delicate flowers.

  The gentle curve of her hips, the slope of her buttocks, were so feminine, making him acutely aware of his masculinity.

  He heard a little whimper of need escape Janice’s throat and rejoiced in the knowledge of how very much she wanted him. Him.

  She tasted like sweet nectar as their tongues dueled, stroked, in a rhythm that was so sensuous it threatened to push him over the edge of his control.

  Taylor tore his mouth from Janice’s and spoke close to her lips, his voice rough with desire.

  “Janice...”

  “Yes,” she whispered, then grasped one of his hands and led him to the bed.

  Taylor followed Janice onto the bed, stretching out next to her, one hand splayed on her flat stomach.

  Questions began to nudge his passion-laden mind. Why was Janice insisting on the darkness? Why wouldn’t she allow him to see her in the glow from the small lamp on the nightstand?

  What was she hiding? What was she afraid of? Did this mean that she didn’t trust him completely in some way? Why—

  Janice skimmed one hand along Taylor’s back in a feathery touch, then moved forward to his chest, then lower...lower...

  And all rational thought fled Taylor’s mind.

  He dipped his head to find Janice’s mouth, one hand sifting through her glorious hair that he could just barely see fanned out enticingly on the pillow.

  Propping his weight on his other forearm, he raised above her, giving him access to her lush breasts. He shifted his mouth to one breast, drawing it in, laving the nipple to a taut bud with his tongue.

  “Oh,” Janice said with a little puff of breath.

  Taylor paid homage to her other breast as his racing heart echoed in his ears. Janice’s hands were never still as they touched, fluttered, explored, creating a heated trail over Taylor’s body wherever they traveled.

  Incredible heat suffused them, burning hotter and hotter, heightening passions to a fever pitch.

  There was an otherworldly quality to it all, there in the darkness. It was as though they had been transported to a faraway place where just the slightest glimpse of the other was enough because the feel, the taste, the aroma was all-consuming.

  It was strange, foreign, new and...wonderful. It was a body softly feminine and one taut with masculine muscles. It was Janice. It was Taylor. It was glorious.

  And the heat burned hotter.

  “Taylor, please,” Janice said, a near-sob escaping her lips.

  “Yes,” he said hoarsely.

  He moved over her, then entered her, sheathing himself in the moist darkness, filling her, bringing to her all that he was.

  “Oh, yes,” she whispered.

  The ancient dance began in a slow, rocking rhythm, synchronized to perfection. Taylor increased the tempo and Janice matched him beat for beat, lifting her hips to welcome him.

  Faster now. Pounding. Thundering in a cadence that caused coils of tension to tighten within them. Hotter. Higher. Reaching...reaching...

  They exploded into oblivion seconds apart, holding tightly to each other, calling the name of the one who had been flung far beyond reality with them.

  They hovered there for an eternity, savoring, then floated back slowly, slowly to now.

  Taylor collapsed against Janice, his energy spent, then he rolled quickly off of her to lie by her side, one arm encircling her waist.

  Their hearts quieted. Breathing returned to normal levels. Bodies cooled. They sighed in unison in sated contentment.

  Neither spoke. Neither could find the words to describe the wondrous union. Neither wished to break the ethereal spell.

  So they slept.

  Hours later Taylor stirred as the sound of his name being spoken in a velvety voice reached him in his deep sleep.

  “Hmm?” he said foggily.

  “It’s four in the morning,” Janice whispered. “The sun will be up in an hour. You must go, Taylor, while it’s still dark. Go now. Please.”

  “Janice...” he said as he became fully awake.

  “Please, Taylor. It will be the perfect ending to the most glorious night of my life. Please. Leave while it’s dark.”

  Why? his mind hammered. Ah, Janice, why?

  “Yes, all right,” he said.

  He kissed her deeply, then left the bed. He found his clothes by chance, pulled them on, then leaned over the bed once more.

  “Until later, Sleeping Beauty,” he said.

  “Yes. Thank you, Taylor,” she said quietly. “For everything.”

  He made his way from the room carefully. Minutes ticked by as Janice strained her ears to finally hear the rumble of Taylor’s car being started, then driven away.

  “Thank you,” she said again.

  Then she closed her eyes and gave way to blissful slumber.

  Chapter Eleven

  Janice woke later than usual and hurried through her morning routine. After a shower, she secured the thick bun at the nape of her neck, then dressed in a mustard-colored boxy suit with off-white sturdy shoes.

  And through it all, she smiled.

  She could not keep the silly grin from forming on her lips, she thought happily. She felt wonderful, so special and cherished, after the glorious lovemaking with Taylor the previous night.

  Taylor had made love with her, just her, the woman, without her beauty entering into what they had shared. What a gift that was, a treasure to keep forever. She had been accepted just for herself, not for what she looked like.

  No wonder she was smiling!

  In the kitchen, Janice glanced at her watch and frowned, realizing that she’d have to forgo her ritual of drinking her tea while sitting on the patio watching the pair of hummingbirds.

  She had time for a half a cup, she decided, pouring the hot tea into a china cup.

  She picked it up, blew on the surface to cool it, then wandered over to the door with the hope of catching at least a glimpse of the birds.

  “There you are,” she said aloud as one hummingbird appeared for breakfast.

  She took a sip of tea and waited for the other bird to flutter into sight.

  But it didn’t come.

  Janice’s eyes darted in all directions, looking for the second bird.

  Where was it? she wondered. Where was its partner, its other half, its soul mate?

  A chill coursed through her as she stared at the single bird.

  Alone, her mind echoed. There had been two. Now there was only one. Alone.<
br />
  No, no, she didn’t want the delicate little bird to be alone, to go through its day, the remainder of its life without the other one by its side. They belonged together. Together.

  They had been so perfect, a couple, flying in unison, enjoying their breakfast, then flitting off to meet what adventures the day would bring.

  Oh, dear heaven, not alone.

  She couldn’t bear the thought of a future stretching into infinity, empty, hollow, because Taylor was gone. They belonged together. They were partners, the other half of each other, soul mates.

  Yes, oh, yes, that was how it should be because she loved Taylor so very much, completely, irrevocably, with an intensity that defied description.

  She was in love with Taylor Sinclair.

  Janice blinked, then realized her hand holding the cup was shaking so badly the tea was splashing onto the floor. She gripped the cup with both hands and moved to the counter, setting the cup down carefully.

  On trembling legs, she made her way to the table, sinking onto one of the chairs. She propped her elbows on the table and dropped her face into her hands.

  Dear heaven, she thought frantically, what had she done? How had this happened? When had she lost control over her emotions and fallen in love with Taylor?

  She had meant only to have some stolen time with him that would be filled with wondrous memories that she could bring from the treasure chest in her heart and relive when he was gone.

  Yes, she would miss him. And, yes, she would cry when he left. But because she hadn’t actually loved him, fallen in love with him, the pain of his leaving would soon ease, allowing her to cherish the lovely memories of what they had shared.

  But now?

  Oh, God, she’d be shattered, devastated, when Taylor walked out of her life.

  “Janice, you foolish, foolish woman,” she said, raising her head.

  She had no one to blame but herself. She had been so positive that she could have an affair with Taylor, weep when he left, then get on with her life as she’d always known it.

  She’d honestly believed that the depth of her growing feelings for Taylor didn’t matter, because she wouldn’t be able to recognize something as foreign as being in love. Therefore, that emotion couldn’t touch her should she succumb to it. Oh, such lofty, sophisticated reasonings.

  But she wasn’t a sophisticated woman after all. She was an emotional child, who didn’t have enough experience in life, in living, to keep from having lost her heart to the most magnificent man she’d ever known.

  “What am I going to do?” she said, feeling the prickle of threatening tears at the back of her eyes.

  No, she wouldn’t come apart, dissolve into a weepy mess. She was getting a grip...right now.

  Janice got to her feet and began to pace around the kitchen in jerky little steps.

  Think. She had to think. Should she end things with Taylor immediately? Tell him she didn’t wish to see him again?

  She shook her head.

  What was the point? She was in love with Taylor, and nothing could erase that fact. The only thing in her favor was that Taylor didn’t know that she loved him.

  She stopped in front of the door and stared unseeing at the yard beyond, wrapping her hands around her elbows in a protective gesture. She took a deep, steadying breath.

  All right. She was calming down, looking at this dismal situation rationally. It was a given that Taylor would end their relationship. He’d return to his world of stunningly beautiful women who operated under the code of behavior in the singles scene.

  Yes, she knew that, had known it from the beginning. She was a novelty to Taylor, a woman far different than he was accustomed to, a break in routine. That wasn’t cold or tacky on Taylor’s part, it was simply how it was. So be it.

  But until he actually said goodbye and went back to where he belonged...he was hers. Hers to drink in the sight of, see his smile, hear his laughter, be the recipient of his touch and kiss, share incredibly wondrous lovemaking with.

  Hers to love.

  Her broken heart would come in time, along with the tears in the long, lonely nights. But she would not be the one to end what they were now sharing. She would savor every precious moment left with Taylor and tuck the memories away gently.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “That’s what I’ll do.”

  She started to turn from the window when something caught her attention. A gasp escaped her lips.

  It was the second hummingbird.

  It hovered in the air near the first one that was still at the feeder, then side by side they flew away. Together.

  “Be happy,” Janice said, unable to stop the tears that filled her eyes. “Don’t leave each other. Don’t be alone, little birds. Stay—” a sob caught in her throat “—together... forever.”

  The day was a seemingly endless series of nonproductive hours for Taylor. He was edgy, restless, unable to concentrate on the complicated work spread out on his desk at the office.

  He’d lost count of how many times he’d reached for the telephone with the intention of calling Janice, only to snatch his hand back at the last second and dismiss the idea.

  What would he say to Janice? he thought, dragging both hands down his face. This was not his typical day after. Not even close. Because he’d never in his life made love with a woman he was in love with.

  Taylor leaned his head on the top of the chair and stared at the ceiling.

  What in the hell was he going to do? He felt torn, ripped into two jagged pieces.

  One part of him was in awe that he, Taylor Sinclair, had actually fallen in love, had found a woman capable of staking a claim on his heart, mind and soul. It was, quite simply, amazing.

  But the other half of his psyche?

  Fear. Icy, terrifying fear.

  To love was to lose, eventually, somehow, that love.

  The evidence of that realization was everywhere around him, shouting that truth in a cruel, taunting voice.

  He could not, would not, see Janice again. He had to get out of this relationship before it went one step further. Before he—

  “Hell,” Taylor said, lunging to his feet.

  It was too damn late!

  He’d already given his heart to Janice Jennings. If he walked out of her life now, he would be the cause of losing her, the one to create his own heartache and loneliness.

  Should he leave the ending to fate? Stay with Janice for as long as it lasted? Wait for the blow that would cut him off at the knees, smash him to smithereens?

  Or should he control the situation, gear up for the pain and tell Janice he was once again nothing more than her accountant?

  “Take your pick, Sinclair,” he said as he stared out the window. “Hurt like hell now? Or later? Which one suits your fancy?”

  Taylor squeezed the bridge of his nose.

  Enough of this, he fumed. He was chasing his own muddled thoughts in circles, adding further tangles to the maddening web of confusion.

  He’d go visit his father. That would take his mind off his own turmoil. Yes, that was the ticket. He’d pay a call on his dad, give him another pep talk on how great retirement was, focus on someone other than himself. Good plan.

  Once again Taylor left the office in a rush with a mumbled explanation for his hasty exit, and once again his secretary shook her head in total bewilderment at her boss’s strange behavior.

  Clem Sinclair opened the door and stepped back so his son could enter the living room. Clem was holding two hangers in one hand, each hanger displaying a crisp dress shirt.

  “Glad you’re here,” Clem said, closing the door. “You can help me decide.”

  “Decide what?” Taylor said, yanking the knot of his tie down a couple of inches.

  “Which shirt to wear,” his father said. “Plain blue? Or white with blue stripes?”

  “Depends on where you’re going, I guess,” Taylor said absently as he slouched onto the sofa.

  Clem crossed the room to stand in fr
ont of Taylor.

  “I’m taking a lovely lady named Mary Alice out for a seafood dinner,” Clem said.

  Taylor sat bolt upward, his father having his full attention.

  “You’re what?” Taylor said, his eyes widening.

  “You heard me. Which shirt?”

  “Forget the damn shirts,” Taylor said, getting to his feet. “Are you nuts? Dad, what are thinking? When I said you should concentrate on ideas for filling your idle hours, that didn’t include women, for crying out loud.”

  “Not women, plural. A woman,” Clem said calmly. “Mary Alice, to be precise. I met her at the shuffleboard court here in the complex. She’s my age, a widow, very pretty, intelligent, has a dandy sense of humor. We’re going out for fish and chips.”

  “No, you are not,” Taylor said, slicing one hand through the air.

  “Would you stop shouting?” Clem said. “Land’s sake, Taylor, what is the matter with you? I thought you’d be tickled about this. You were the one who made it clear I should quit feeling sorry for myself and get on with my life.”

  “I didn’t mean you should hook up with a woman!”

  “You’re still yelling,” Clem said, frowning.

  “Damn straight I am,” Taylor said. “Dad, please, listen to me. Don’t do this to yourself. What if you fall in love with this Mary Whoever?”

  “Mary Alice. Her name is Mary Alice Winters.” Clem chuckled. “Isn’t that fitting? I met her in the winter of my years and her name is Winters. Ah, fate is so fascinating.”

  “Did you hear what I said?” Taylor went on. ”What if you fall in love with her? Do you really want to go through it again when it happens? Haven’t you had enough pain and heartache in your life?”

  Clem hooked the hangers over the back of a chair, then sat down.

  “Put your butt on that sofa, boy,” he said, pointing to the piece of furniture. “Right now.”

  Taylor mumbled an earthy expletive, but did as he was told.

  “Now, then,” Clem said, lacing his fingers over his chest as he propped his elbows on the arms of the chair. “Let’s take this from the top. Quietly.” He paused. “Do I want to go through it again when it happens? What exactly is this mysterious it?”