“Sure.” There was a brief pause, then he said, “I've missed you, Mandy."
“Me, too."
Chapter Nineteen
Because I'd completed a tremendous amount of work over the weekend, even spending many hours in my University office, I felt little pressure to be at the hospital early. Mondays were not days when I did any clinical work, so I was surprised to find Sarah Jamison waiting to pounce on me when I arrived a little late.
“What's this I hear about you going back to England?” she demanded, her voice shaking with outrage. “You were supposed to be here for six months."
Out of the corner of my eye I saw that she wasn't the only one waiting for me. The look on Jack's face would have been comical if he hadn't been so obviously shocked. “England?” he growled.
Sarah was startled by his appearance, and embarrassed that she might have raised a subject she shouldn't have in front of a stranger. I didn't know which of them to answer first, so I waved them both into the office with the great view out over the University campus. Jack hesitated, the frown on his forehead growing. “I have a procedure in half an hour. I just wanted to say hi."
“Sarah Jamison, Jack Hunter,” I said by way of introductions, herding them in front of me. I wasn't going to leave that door open for anyone else on the floor to hear. After all, Dr. Hager's office was only around the corner. None of us sat down. I leaned back against the door and explained, “Dr. Hager informed me Friday that Dr. Lattimore feels well enough to finish out the last three months of the project, and that he intends to do it."
“That's ridiculous,” Sarah insisted. “They can't just dismiss you like that."
Jack said nothing, but his eyes snapped with anger.
“The contract, unfortunately, doesn't prohibit it. I was so concerned that it be changed to allow me to do clinical practice that I didn't pay much attention to the possibility of not completing the six months. And, of course, Doug was terribly sick when I left. It seemed highly unlikely that he'd want to come."
Jack rubbed the bridge of his nose. He'd gotten a wonderful tan from his week outdoors and looked excessively healthy, but the gaze he leveled on me was curiously intense. “Don't you want to fight this, Ma ... Amanda?"
“I'm a great one for not wasting energy on lost causes, Jack. Life's too short.” The major lesson I'd learned was that if you were farther down in the hierarchy than the person you were fighting, you had very little chance of winning. Unless you played hardball, and I wasn't sure I was ready to play hardball.
Jack looked disappointed; Sarah continued to look outraged. “I'm still thinking about it,” I promised them, to give myself some time. “It's certainly not what I want to happen, but my options are limited."
“Maybe we can come up with something,” Jack said.
I nodded and he reluctantly left. Sarah watched him go, but didn't ask the question that was in her eyes. “Really, this is most unfair, Amanda. Would it help to rabble rouse amongst the natives?"
“I doubt it, and there's no sense forcing people to take sides.” I grinned. “Certainly not against the department chair. But thanks for offering."
“Well,” she said, moving toward the door, “you know you have my support. Let me know if there's anything I can do."
“I will."
She stopped to ask, “Is he a jerk, this Dr. Lattimore?"
“Yes, but an attractive, courtly jerk. Most women like him."
“I won't."
Probably not, but I felt quite sure that Lavinia Hager did, quite a bit.
* * * *
The first thing Jack said when I met him back at Mayfield House, sitting at the top of the stairs near my door, was, “Let's go out to dinner, Mandy. We need some privacy."
Dinner was not the main thing on my mind just then, but I agreed. “Somewhere casual,” I suggested as I unlocked my door. “I want to get out of these stupid shoes."
He followed me into the living area and pushed the door closed behind him. “Why aren't you fighting this thing?” he demanded, raking at his hair. “Have you reconsidered what happened between us?"
“Not at all.” I kicked off the heels and pulled my blouse out from my skirt. Then I began to unbutton the blouse as if he weren't there. “I talked with Nigel over the weekend."
“What did you tell him?"
“That I'd been unfaithful to him. He thought that had happened a long time ago."
Jack's brows drew down in a puzzled frown. “What do you mean?"
“Apparently Doug had led Nigel to believe quite a while ago that he was my lover.” I removed my blouse and tossed it on the nearest chair. Then I unzipped my skirt and it slid silently down the half slip I wore. “Naturally Nigel didn't bring this up, because he refuses to talk with me about sex."
“Your husband is nuts,” Jack said, trying not to smile.
“Possibly. In any case, he was not easy to convince that this was the first time I'd been unfaithful.” I worked the half slip down and off, and then my pantyhose. “Interesting, isn't it? He finds my body so uninviting that he hasn't slept with me for years, but he thinks I've made a practice of sleeping with other men. Go figure."
Instead, carefully regarding my bra and underpants, Jack asked, “Are you going to take off any more?"
“That depends."
He opened his arms and I walked into them. “God, I've missed you,” he said, nuzzling against my hair. “During the days it wasn't so bad because of all those rapids and the need to keep from drowning. But at night..."
“At night you became a bed salesman without a customer,” I teased as I started to unbutton his shirt. “At night you lay there thinking that it would be more comfortable being in that roomy king size bed with a woman's naked body beside yours."
“Not a woman's,” he said. “Yours. Hey, the ground was hard. I wanted your soft body there.” He ran his hands slowly, lingeringly over my rounded shoulders and down my back to the swell of my buttocks. “Your lush body beside me.”
His hands slid inside my underpants and massaged my flesh. I had never felt so abundantly endowed and yet so richly sensual. By this time I had his shirt off, but no more. A need had begun to throb in my body. With unsteady hands I unsnapped his slacks and tugged the zipper down.
There may be no sexier sight on earth than that of a man's pubic hair peeking out through the open V of his pants, his penis urgent against the material below. It's a sight that made me shiver with anticipation and moisten my achingly dry lips. My gaze came up to Jack's. I knew my face was flushed with desire, that my eyes were sultry with yearning.
Jack reached across to slide down one strap of my bra, and then push the fabric down over just one breast. Urgency had already hardened the nipple which he bent to take in his mouth. My hand slipped inside his pants, and found his determined flesh. I wanted him in me now.
As though he understood, Jack pushed my underpants down to my knees and gently pressed my buttocks toward his straining penis. With fingers grown urgent I guided him into my body, hearing Jack's and my simultaneous moans of relief at the connection.
Jack shifted me onto the back of the sofa, where I could perch at the perfect height for his thrusting, a height that brought him again and again into contact with my clitoris, building the incredible excitement to a shattering release.
Here in broad daylight, in an amusingly ungainly position, we watched each other climax. There was such warmth, such tenderness and acceptance in Jack's eyes. I was the object of his desire and the fulfillment of it. He held me afterwards as though I were made of the most delicate porcelain, a rare and valued wonder.
And I clasped him to me with all the passion I felt for his appealingly sturdy body, to say nothing of my unacknowledged passion for other, more elusive elements of his soul.
“Damn good thing there was no one in the garden,” he said, noticing the open window.
“And a damn good thing the birth control pills should be effective by now.”
“Yes, w
e've been acting like teenagers.” He grinned at me. “Only it's a hell of a lot better, knowing what you're doing, isn't it?"
“You may know what you're doing,” I retorted. “I don't have much recent experience, except with my own body."
“Which is going to make it all the easier for you to show me what you like.” With his hands on either side, he rocked my hips in a way that stirred my renewed interest. “You may have noticed that I'm not shy about expressing my own needs."
I laughed. “Yes, I've noticed. Uh, Jack, if you keep doing that, I'm going to have a need of my own again."
“I know,” he murmured against my hair. “But you've got a lot of need stored up and it seems to me it wouldn't hurt one bit to help you express a little extra."
His mouth traveled lightly down to my breast, capturing its wanton tip with his lips. Alone, one orgasm always seemed more than sufficient; it served to rid my body of the aches, the urges, the desires that floated through it. Like slaking thirst with wholesome water, I would have my release, and consider myself restored to balance.
Offering myself more had not really occurred to me. The rough edges that remained were acceptable for a woman in my situation. I hadn't sought more than the absolute minimum. There were other ways to disperse the sensuous urgings. Sublimation in work, in friendships, in family. That was the proper course for a middle-aged woman with a body her husband rejected.
Champagne was what Jack was offering. His lips on my nipple conjured bubbles of sheer delight. My whole body felt light as air, floated by a giddy, deep-ranging joy, a laughter that tickled every naughty, greedy nerve in my sensual network.
My hips moved with an urgency I didn't know I could feel, propelling me against Jack's hardness still there in me. His murmurs of encouragement came around the lips that drew on me, tugged me toward a new, generous need. Not the parsimonious satisfaction I'd offered myself all these years, but a big, lush, opulent all-encompassing release. A burst of glorious, magnificently superfluous fireworks.
Since afterwards I found Jack's finger against my lips, I think I must have given vocal expression to my reward, but he did no more than grin like a fool as I attempted to compose myself. “I'm not sure that's entirely fair,” I said, somewhat anxiously.
“More than fair, my sweet.” He left a trail of kisses across my face. “But my bet is that you're famished, and so am I. Let's get some clothes on and eat here after all."
Not a plan I wished to oppose. Being a seductress and a seductee was hungry-making work. I hoped the aromas drifting up the stairs meant we were having Sherri's fabulous chicken stir-fry.
“You have to at least try to throw a wrench into their plans,” Jack protested later when we were sitting under a tree looking out over Lake Mendota.
A warm breeze ruffled the collar of my blouse and lifted a wing of my hair. “I can't see why. They're going to win, so anything I do will just make me look foolish. And I'm not fond of looking foolish."
“So you intend to leave Wisconsin in three weeks’ time?"
“I didn't say that.” I swatted at one of the mosquitoes which were a constant hazard of summer living in Madison. “It would be easy enough for me to extend my stay a few weeks. No one's looking for me back in London."
Jack's expression was grim. “But you couldn't work at the University. Dr. Lattimore would be there. And he'd probably even want your place in Mayfield House."
That was an aspect of it I hadn't considered. Well, he could just find somewhere else to live. But the thought of staying there as a tourist, with no work to do, waiting for Jack to come home each evening, was very unappealing. I said as much.
Jack snorted. “You'd hate it. You could stay in Oconomowoc and have a real vacation—swim, canoe, hike, read, enjoy the peace. It would be easy for me to commute from there."
“That would be great—for about a week. Then I'd feel like some sort of concubine.” I sighed as I watched a sailboat dip past the horizon. “Ultimately I'm going to have to go back. It's just a shame this had to happen. The six months would have been perfect. By then we'd have gotten tired of each other and been ready to go our separate ways."
“How the hell do you know that?” Jack demanded, his eyes snapping with annoyance. “Who says we're going to get tired of each other?"
“That's what happens,” I insisted, feeling anything but the rational soul I was attempting to portray. “These sexual attractions flare for a while, then die a natural death. We met each other at just the right moment. You were depressed and lonely; I was temporarily free and ready for an adventure. But you live in America, I live in London. We're old enough to know what we're doing, and smart enough not to let anyone get hurt in the process."
Under stormy brows his eyes challenged me. “Are we?”
“Yes, I think we are.” Did I? Perhaps it was a matter of degree. Nigel wouldn't be hurt by it, certainly. Jack would have bittersweet memories when he looked back on it after he recovered completely from his depression. If I came out heartsore, well, I knew even now that it was well worth that pain. Life in London would feel different after this, but not worse. Even if I continued my marital facade with Nigel, I'd be richer for having had Jack in my life.
Jack twined his fingers through mine and shook his head. “What a dreamer you are, Mandy. But I don't think you're telling me the whole truth."
I didn't want to come any closer to the truth than I had. “In what way?"
“I suspect you could thwart this nefarious plot by Lavinia and Doug if you really wanted to."
I raised my head, surprised at his acuity. “You mean you think I have something on Doug? I have lots of stuff on Doug, but it's always his word against mine. He sleeps with patients, but only sophisticated patients who should know better. And, of course, he'd been having an affair with Lavinia before his heart attack."
Jack blinked at me. “You're sure of that?"
I shrugged. “Yes, but so what? Their personal morals are their own business. As, I would remind you, are mine, and I'm no longer in a position to be throwing stones, if I ever was."
“I wasn't suggesting you reveal their affair. I'm just surprised you seem so forbearing."
“It's his sleeping with patients that pisses me off,” I said, allowing the anger to wash over me for a brief moment. “Any man who takes advantage of his position as an OB/GYN is a shameless cad, so far as I'm concerned. My lack of respect for Doug has made my professional life in London a real adventure."
“A struggle, more likely,” Jack muttered. “Well, the one advantage of his coming here would be that I'd have a chance to meet this charmer and see what I could do to make his life miserable."
I laughed. “I like your style, Jack. And the other advantage is that if he's here, I'll have a chance to enjoy my job in London without his breathing down my neck."
“They aren't substantial enough advantages to make it worthwhile,” Jack said, squeezing my hand. “Have you told Nigel about the change?"
“I faxed him Saturday, but I haven't heard anything."
His gaze sharpened on my face. “Would you go back to him, Mandy?"
“I don't know. Possibly."
“But you don't have a marriage with him."
“No, but I have a partnership. In some ways, Jack, our having this affair would make it easier for me to continue with Nigel, rather than harder."
His face had become unreadable. “Until someone else came along who tempted you. It will be easier the next time.”
Easier, and harder. Stuffing my sexuality back into the narrow confines I'd defined for it wasn't likely to work so well. But I'd met a lot of men in England over the years without discovering someone I had to share it with. Somehow it seemed unlikely to me that another potential partner was sitting around waiting for me to fall into his life. “I'm kind of picky,” I said lightly.
“It was my personal magnetism that was irresistible, I suppose."
Though he was teasing, I heard his need for reassurance. “Oh, J
ack, you're the most irresistible man I've ever met. But if I'd met you in London, even with all that magnetism, I probably wouldn't have succumbed. Just because of all the reminders there, and the lack of opportunity to spend time with you. And that's how it will be when I get back."
“I don't think so,” he said thoughtfully, drawing a line along my arm with his finger. “I think you'll find you've changed. You won't be satisfied to be Nigel's roommate anymore."
Our eyes met briefly before we both looked away. After a while we climbed back on our bikes and returned to Mayfield House.
Chapter Twenty
Jack took me to his retreat at Oconomowoc that weekend. This time we shared his bedroom and generally played house. The thought that we had only three weeks left together made the time seem precious, but even then I insisted that he not spend the whole day with me on Sunday.
“You know very well you want to do something jockish where I wouldn't be able to keep up with you,” I said when he suggested a gentle hike around Fowler Lake. “Do it. I believe in only so much togetherness."
“We don't have that much time left,” he said, but he was already searching for his biking shorts.
Jack had been gone for almost two hours when the phone rang. I thought he might be calling to let me know he was on his way back, or asking if there was anything I wanted him to pick up at the store. It did occur to me that it might be one of his kids trying to get hold of him, or even someone from the University. So Nigel's voice didn't register with me immediately.
“Mandy? Is that you?” he asked.
“Yes. Nigel? Is something wrong?” A feeling of panic shot through me. Had something happened to Cass? Why would he call me here? I hadn't left the number.
“Everything's fine,” he said soothingly. Nigel knows that I'm easily roused to images of family disaster. “Cass said to send her love when I talked to her the other day."
“Good. Does she like the job?"
“Job? Oh, the holiday camp. Not much, but she says she'll survive it."
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