That McCloud Woman

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That McCloud Woman Page 10

by Peggy Moreland


  Alayna blinked furiously, not wanting to cry, determined to say it all. "Then he left, and I was so embarrassed. I knew I shouldn't have let things go as far as they did. And I knew that I owed him an apology."

  "You certainly did not!" Merideth cried, ready to come to her cousin's defense as quickly as she would that of her sisters. "A woman has to right to say no when she feels threatened."

  Alayna lifted her gaze. "But I didn't want to say no. That's the problem." She squeezed her fingers tighter around Mandy's. "The next morning I tried to apologize to him, but then he apologized, insisting that it was all his fault."

  Merideth smiled, pleased. "I might just grow to like this guy."

  Alayna sighed heavily. "Then last night he asked me to stay with him." She wrinkled her nose and gave her head a shake, as she recalled the conversation. "Well, he didn't really ask, not in so many words."

  "Did you?" Merideth prodded.

  "Stay with him?" At Merideth's nod, Alayna sputtered a laugh. "Heavens, no!"

  "Why?" This from Merideth again.

  "Because it would have been a disaster! Just as it was when he kissed me."

  "You don't know that for a fact."

  "Oh, yes, I do," Alayna declared emphatically, then dropped her shoulders in frustration, frowning. "I was determined to go on as if nothing had happened, since we do have to work alongside each other every day. But then this morning, out of the blue, Jack became angry with me and asked me why I wore so many clothes."

  All three McCloud sisters shared a look, having discussed the same thing themselves, though they all suspected they knew the answer.

  "Then he took out his knife and cut the sleeve off of my shirt."

  "He what!"

  Alayna flapped a hand at Merideth to calm her ruffled feathers. "It wasn't like it sounds." She sighed again, releasing her grip on Mandy's hand. She sank back in her chair, her eyes going all dreamy as she replayed every detail of the event in her mind. "In fact, it was the most sensual experience I've ever had in my life."

  Merideth and Sam looked at each other, their expressions saying, "Huh?"

  "I wanted to grab him right then and there and make love with him. Or at least try to. But all I could think to say was 'Thank you.'"

  Sam choked on a laugh and Mandy kicked her under the table. Sam kicked her back.

  "Then, later," Alayna continued, unaware of the war being waged under the table, "he took me by the shoulders and looked me right in the eye and told me that I couldn't hide my sexuality any more than I could deny it."

  Merideth shivered deliciously. "So then you made love with him. Right?"

  "No." Alayna dropped her gaze, embarrassed. "I didn't know what to say, or what to do."

  Merideth tossed her hands up in the air. "It's simple. You take him by the hand and lead him to your bedroom."

  Alayna smiled wistfully, wagging her head. "Simple for you, maybe. But not for me. I'm no good at sex."

  "Alex was an asshole, Alayna. Forget him."

  For once, Mandy and Sam didn't correct Merideth. They, too, were aware of the emotional scars Alayna's ex had left her with.

  "Our divorce was not Alex's fault," Alayna said firmly. "Not entirely, anyway," she added, frowning. "Granted, he wasn't the best husband in the world, but I can't fault him for my own inability to pleasure a man."

  Sam squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. "Listen, Alayna, I didn't think I was cut out for sex, either, not after—well, not after what happened to me. But Nash proved me wrong."

  Aware of the near rape Sam had suffered as a teenager, and the aversion to men that it had left her with, Alayna leaned to cover Sam's hand with hers. "And I'm happy for you, Sam. Nash is a wonderful man."

  And Alayna was missing the point entirely. When she attempted to withdraw her hand, Sam tightened her fingers around it. "You're a psychologist, right?"

  Alayna laughed uneasily at the intensity in Sam's gaze. "You know I am." She gave her hand a tug, but Sam refused to let her go.

  "And as a psychologist," Sam persisted, "you know all about the different kinds of phobias and how to get people over them, right?"

  "Well, yes, but—"

  Sam tightened her fingers on Alayna's. "So what do you tell a patient who has a phobia? How do you get them over it?"

  "I don't see the relevance…" Alayna began, glancing at her other two cousins in a silent plea for help. But both Mandy and Merideth just looked at her expectantly, waiting for her answer, as well. With a sigh, Alayna turned her gaze back to Sam's. "Well, the first step in the healing process is to get the patient to admit that the phobia exists."

  Sam nodded. "Then what?"

  "Then you develop a plan, working closely with the patient. Small steps where the patient can meet with success and thus gather the courage to proceed toward their ultimate goal."

  "And your goal is to have sex with Jack, right?"

  Alayna released a long, shuddery breath. "W-well, yes, I suppose. That's my initial goal."

  "Does he want to have sex with you?"

  Alayna thought about that a moment, then nodded slowly. "Yes, I think so."

  Sam released Alayna's hand and flopped back in her chair, smiling proudly. "Problem solved. I'll send you a bill."

  Doubts swarmed in Alayna's head. "But how? I've already refused his advances twice. How do I let him know that I've changed my mind?"

  "You seduce him."

  Merideth said it so easily, that Alayna had to laugh. "Seduce him," she repeated, then laughed again. She glanced down at her dress and caught a fistful of the long skirt and lifted it. "I don't think Jack finds me particularly seductive."

  Merideth popped to her feet. "Wardrobe is my department and seduction my specialty." She held out a hand and gold bracelets clinked musically on her wrist. "Come with me, Alayna."

  "Don't do it, Alayna!" Sam cried, rising, too. "She'll have you looking like a streetwalker."

  Merideth stopped and slowly turned to face Sam, her lips pursed, her eyes narrowed dangerously. "I beg your pardon?"

  Mandy quickly stepped between her two sisters. "Just keep it simple, Merideth," she suggested helpfully, giving her sister's arm a soothing pat. "Nothing too drastic."

  * * *

  Seven

  « ^ »

  Alayna stood before her bathroom mirror, frantically trying to style her hair. She was running late, which was a rarity, but this morning it had seemed to take forever to get the kids off to school. She suspected that it was her own impatience that had made the time pass so slowly. But the children were gone now, she reminded herself, and she had the house to herself.

  Well, almost. Earlier, she'd heard Jack moving around downstairs, which meant she needed to hurry.

  Drawing in a deep breath for courage, she set aside her hairbrush and smoothed her damp palms down her thighs. She turned to peer over her shoulder at her rear view and felt a flutter of nerves … even a little bit risqué.

  Merideth had found the old pair of jeans Alayna now wore in Mandy's closet and had whacked off the legs, making them into shorts. She'd done the same to an old tank top, cropping the length to just beneath Alayna's breasts.

  All in all the results were satisfactory, if a little frightening. Alayna couldn't remember the last time she'd worn a pair of shorts. Alex had always told her that she didn't have the figure to wear shorts, that her legs were too long, her thighs too fat. And she didn't remember ever wearing such a revealing top!

  Were the shorts too short? she fretted. She gave the raveled hem a tug, trying to stretch the fabric, but quickly gave up. They'd just have to do.

  She turned and adjusted the top, making sure it covered her bra, then lifted her gaze, meeting her reflection again. Could she really wear such a skimpy outfit in front of Jack? she asked herself. Would he think she was advertising? She pressed her fingers against her lips, stifling the hysterical giggle that bubbled up in her throat.

  Oh, God, she hoped so!

  She spun and all bu
t ran for the stairs, anxious to test her new outfit—as well as the level of her nerves—on the unsuspecting Jack.

  She found him in the kitchen already at work hanging a plate rack she'd discovered in the attic on the breakfast nook's newly stained wood wall.

  At the sight of him, her heart stopped, then kicked into a frantic beat—and her bravado flew straight out the open window. She darted to the refrigerator and pulled open the door to hide behind it. "What would you like for breakfast this morning?"

  His back to her, Jack tested the shelf by pressing a wide hand against its top, making sure it was sturdy. "Whatever. I'm not particular."

  "It's so hot, how about just some fruit and muffins?"

  Jack slipped the hammer into the loop on his tool belt.

  "Sounds good to me." He turned, wiping his hands on a rag, just as Alayna pushed the refrigerator door shut with her hip. His eyebrows shot up as he got his first look at her and he blurted out the first thing that popped into his head. "You've got legs."

  Her hands full, Alayna ducked and danced across the kitchen and to the counter, trying her best to make her shorts look longer and to hide her bare midriff. "I've always had legs. You've just never seen them." She set the fruit and muffins down, then stretched to her toes to pull plates from the cabinet. "I decided you were right. It's too hot to wear so many clothes."

  Had he said that? Yeah, he had, Jack remembered, then cursed himself for making the suggestion. He'd never considered what the effect of a lesser-garbed Alayna would have on his system—as if it wasn't already in overdrive! He let out a slow breath as he watched her slip a hand behind her to give the hem of her shorts a discreet tug … and realized she was embarrassed. And he wasn't helping her a bit with his thoughtless comments.

  And this was the very opportunity he needed to put his new plan into action. He would compliment her, build up her self-confidence and never have to lay a hand on her.

  For some reason that plan had sounded a whole lot easier to implement when he'd been alone in the barn devising it. But, of course, then Alayna hadn't been prissing around in front of him half dressed.

  He cleared his throat and had to force his gaze away from the lacy edge of panty that was peeking from beneath her shorts. "Well, you look … nice, Alayna. Real nice." Nice? He gave himself a mental thump on the head. Was that the best he could do?

  She glanced over her shoulder and smiled shyly. "Thanks, Jack."

  "You're welcome." He cleared his throat again. "What can I do to help?"

  She turned and handed him a plate. "Nothing." She smiled again, this one a little easier, and a little more sure. "Just eat."

  Jack took the plate and followed her to the table, not at all certain he could get anything past the sudden lump in his throat. "I thought I'd work on that bathroom upstairs this morning," he said, looking everywhere but at her. "You know. The one where the shower is leaking."

  She sank gracefully onto a chair, setting her plate carefully in front of her and spreading a napkin across her lap. Without the baggy pants, her legs looked to Jack to be about a mile long. And, yeah, he did lose the battle of trying not to gape.

  "That's fine," she replied.

  He sat, too, dropping his plate onto the table in front of him. With both of them sitting now, his view of her was limited to her breasts and up. It should've helped.

  But it didn't.

  "If we get done early enough," he said, trying to keep his mind focused on the work he'd planned for the day, "I thought we might tackle the fireplace."

  She bit into a strawberry, her eyes brightening as her gaze met his across the table. "Really?" Juice from the strawberry ran down her chin and she caught it with the tip of her finger, and scooped it up, then popped her finger into her mouth, sucking the juice from it. "What can I do to help?"

  You can slide that sweet face of yours over here and let me lick that strawberry juice off your chin.

  The thought formed before Jack could stop it. Thankfully, he caught himself before voicing it out loud. He tore his gaze from hers and hitched his chair closer to the table. He needed to take this slow, he reminded himself, and nonphysical. No telling what would happen if he were to touch her. All that bare skin…

  Grabbing his knife, he slathered butter over his muffin, trying not to think about all that bare skin. "I don't know," he mumbled, focusing on his bread. "But I'll think of something."

  "Hold it steady."

  Alayna tightened her grip on the pipe but couldn't quit staring at Jack's bare back. He sat inside the old-fashioned footed bathtub, his shoulders hunched over his knees while he worked on the plumbing. Alayna stood outside the tub, all but salivating.

  He'd stripped off his shirt again, and sweat beaded his skin and ran down his spine, soaking the waist of his faded jeans a darker blue. She swallowed hard as her gaze slipped to the band of white cotton at the small of his back where his jeans gapped open a bit. Boxers. He wore boxers. And, in Alayna's opinion, there was nothing sexier than a man wearing nothing but boxer shorts.

  She remembered Tom Cruise in the movie Risky Business when he'd slid across a waxed floor, strumming an imaginary guitar and wearing nothing but a pair of white socks, white boxers and an unbuttoned white tailored shirt. She sighed lustily. What she'd give to see Jack similarly dressed.

  "Hand me that wrench."

  Startled, Alayna jumped, then quickly reached behind Jack, to retrieve the requested tool from the floor of the tub behind him. Her breasts brushed his shoulder as she leaned over him, and bolts of lightning arced through her body. Gulping, she straightened, and hastily passed him the wrench. Their fingers tangled in the exchange.

  When she would have released her grip on the wrench, his hand closed over hers, holding hers in place. She glanced down and found him looking up at her. His eyes burned a hole straight through to her soul. She stood there staring, unable to move, unable to breathe while his thumb stroked across her knuckles. Once. Twice. On the third stroke, her knees buckled and she sank to the edge of the tub.

  To his credit, Jack had tried to keep a safe distance and so busy that he wouldn't have a chance to think about how Alayna was dressed. But that one touch of her fingers against his skin had burned away all his good intentions. And when she'd sank to the edge of the tub … well, he was just plain lost.

  Slowly he pried the wrench from her paralyzed fingers and tossed it to the floor before capturing her hand completely with his. One tug and he had her stretched across his lap, her legs dangling over the side of the footed tub.

  With a groan, he covered her mouth with his.

  Somehow, Alayna found the strength to lift her arms and wind them around his neck.

  "Strawberries," he murmured, nipping at her lips. "I love strawberries."

  Alayna mentally made a note to purchase more on her next visit to town.

  He sipped her lips, then traced their shape with his tongue, as if savoring the flavor. "Damn, but I've been wanting to do that all morning," he said with a sigh, nuzzling her nose.

  Wide-eyed, Alayna leaned back to stare. "Really?"

  At the disbelief he saw in her eyes, Jack nodded his head. "Yeah, really."

  He shifted his gaze to her chest and, unable to resist, smoothed a hand over her breast. He watched as her nipple budded beneath the thin knit fabric. He swallowed hard, digging deep for a control that was quickly slipping away from him. Compliments, he reminded himself. He needed to offer her compliments. "Did I tell you I like your shirt?"

  Alayna shook her head, her breast aching for more of his touch. "No," she whispered. "You didn't."

  He lifted his gaze to hers and saw the wonder in her eyes, as well as the heat. "Well, I do." He skimmed a hand around to her back and down to her hips, cupping a denim covered cheek in his palm. "I like your shorts, too."

  "You do?"

  He let a finger slide beneath the ragged hem and along the elastic edge of her panties. "Yeah, I do." He watched her eyes smolder, felt the tremble of nerves be
neath her skin. "I like a lot about you."

  "What?" she asked, seemingly mesmerized as much by his words as by his touch.

  "I like the way you smile, the way your eyes light up when you're excited about something. And I like the way you walk, your hips sort of rolling from side to side, your hair swishing across your shoulder blades." He let his hand trail down the back of her thigh. "And I like the peeks I used to get every once in a long while of this soft skin here behind your knees." He stroked her there and her breath shuddered out of her. He stroked lower, moving his wide palm over her calf and around her ankle until it came to rest on her foot. "And I like your feet. They're so dainty and small, just like the rest of you." He slipped off one sandal, then the other, and let them drop to the floor. Cupping his palm around her arch, he drew her leg up, bending her knee and tipping her foot toward his face. He nipped her toe with his teeth then soothed the spot with his lips.

  A shiver chased down Alayna's spine. "Oh, my heavens," she whispered breathlessly.

  "Ticklish?" he asked, glancing her way.

  "Yes. No." She closed her eyes in frustration. "I don't know."

  He chuckled, guiding her leg back to the edge of the tub. "But you know what I like best?"

  Her eyes flipped open to meet his. "What?"

  "Your mouth." He dipped his head over hers and pressed a kiss to first her upper lip, then her lower one. "And your eyes," he added softly, lifting his head and looking deeply into them. "They are so blue. I remember thinking the first time I saw you that a man could drown in them."

  "The afternoon in the café," she remembered.

  "Yeah." He shifted, settling his back on the tub's sloped end and her more comfortably across his lap. "I thought you were an angel. You looked so beautiful, so innocent." His brow gathered in a frown as he rubbed the ball of his thumb across her lower lip. "Yet, so damn sexy."

  It's simple. You take him by the hand and lead him to your bedroom.

  Alayna heard Merideth's directive as clearly as if her cousin was standing over them, giving stage instructions.

 

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