by Diana Palmer
He took her to one of those fast-food places and they ate fish while he glanced around him with interest. He'd known of places like this, of course, but they weren't usually part of his life-style. His dark eyes lingered on the ordinary people sitting in small groups. Men in suits, women in knit pantsuits, teenagers in skimpy summer clothing. Some of the older men and women wore their life stories in the wrinkles and lines on their faces. There were laborers and farmers and seamstresses; secretaries and young executives. He stared at them and felt suddenly as if he'd missed the boat. He'd lived dangerously, and he'd lived well. But these people knew life as he never really had.
"Deep thoughts?" she asked gently.
"Very deep." He sipped his black coffee. "Do you come here often?" he asked and was genuinely curious.
"About once a week. Some days it's chili, others it's hamburgerson the weekends, I mean. I eat in the canteen or take my lunch at work. I try to be punctual," she said with a smile. "I think we need to give a day's work for a day's pay, however out of style that sounds."
He smiled. "Oh, I approve wholeheartedly," he murmured. "And I'm certain MacFaber would agree."
"Poor old thing," she said, her eyes softening. "He must be very alone. He has no family, you know, and his mother died last year."
He lowered his dark eyes to his coffee. "He's filthy rich. I imagine he can buy love."
"Not the real thing. Only an expensive imitation of it." She slid her hand to Jake's and touched it lightly, hesitantly. Her eyes met his dark ones and she shivered at the intensity in them. "I never knew what love wasbefore," she said.
He didn't hear the buzz of conversation around them. He only heard her voice, saw her face. His head spun at what she was admitting to him. His fingers slid around hers and contracted hungrily, and she smiled at him with eyes that worshiped him. He felt like getting on the table and dancing, but he only smiled back at her.
Those were words he'd never said and meant. It surprised him that he could almost have said them to her with genuine feeling. But he kept his silence. He had a foreboding about Friday. He had to find a way to tell her before then.
After they ate, they went to a matinee, walked around the shopping mall twice, and finally wound up at the bowling alley. But all the lanes were full, so they sat and drank coffee and watched.
He took her home late, pausing at her doorway to kiss her hungrily and hard.
"No, I won't come inside with you," he whispered, touching his finger to her lips. "It's too risky."
She looked at him worriedly. "Jake, I might be able"
"It would be like raping you, don't you understand?" he asked with soft fervor. "Unless you felt right about it, I might as well force you. And I could never do that. Now go to bed. I'll come for you in the morning and we'll go to church. Okay?"
She smiled. "Okay."
He touched the tip of her nose, winked, and walked away whistling.
The next few days were magic. They went everywhere together except at work, and she never seemed to see him there anymore. She asked him about it on Thursday afternoon when she got home from the office. He was in the yard, waiting, when she drove up.
"Aren't you at the plant these days?" she asked as she got out of the car.
He grinned. "I'm on vacation, didn't you know?" He kissed her softly. "And no, I'm not the culprit they caught messing around with MacFaber's jet, in case you were still wondering about me."
She shook her head. "Oh, no," she said softly. "I knew that days ago. I'm not sure how I knew, I just did." Her eyes adored him. "I don't care who you are, or what you do."
That was obvious and it made him feel ten feet tall. At the same time, it made him feel guilty as hell. He'd learned a lot about her. The most important thing he'd learned was that she didn't have a mercenary bone in her body.
He glanced at the sweat on her forehead and the glare of the sun. "Want to lie out and sunbathe with me for a few minutes?" he asked. "It's still hours until dark, but late enough so that we won't get burned."
She smiled gaily. "I'd love it. I have a bikini I've never worn." She colored. "It's a little too risqué for my taste" Her smile faded. "On second thought, maybe I shouldn't wear it?"
He cocked an eyebrow and one side of his mouth lifted up. "Go ahead. I hate to tell you, but I don't wear anything when I sunbathe. I don't like white streaks."
She knew she wasn't breathing. She just looked at him, stunned
"You don't have to look at me," he promised wickedly. "And I'll wear a towel out. Will that satisfy your outraged modesty?"
"I've never sunbathed with a naked man"
"There's a first time for everything." He chuckled at her expression as he turned to go back into his apartment. "Ten minutes."
She wasn't at all sure about this, but they'd grown very close in the time since she'd admitted how she felt about him. They'd talked and shared feelings, about the world and their own lives. He'd told her about his adventures before he'd come to MacFaber, about all the places he'd gone and the things he'd done. She'd listened, fascinated, because he'd lived as she never had. She wondered occasionally how it would be for a man with that kind of background to try to settle down, and it worried her. Wouldn't he be too restless, too used to adventure, to settle for a newspaper and the television in the evenings? Because, inevitably, the newness of marriage would wear off and it would become routine. Unless he loved her, she thought miserably, they might not make it together. Her love for him would hardly be enough in the long run.
She got into the brief black bikini that she'd bought on an impulse at a sale and stared at herself in the mirror. She had a good body, at least, even if she wasn't beautiful, and she blushed, remembering that Jake had seen almost all of it that morning. There was really no reason for her to be shy with himexcept that he was going to take all his clothes off, and she felt uncomfortable about that. But he'd talked about a family, and she had to start getting used to him.
She grabbed up the old blanket she used to sunbathe on and carried it outside, taking off her glasses on the way so that she wouldn't have a white streak over her eyes.
She spread out the blanket, grateful all over again for the very secluded backyard that was fenced as well as heavily wooded. No one ever intruded here—probably because the nearest development was a retirement complex for older people, and no children were allowed there.
She lay on her stomach and, minutes later, Jake came out with a beige towel wrapped around his lean hips.
She closed her eyes tightly, hearing his soft laughter as he dropped the towel and stretched out on his stomach beside her.
"Are you planning to have therapy after your wedding night?" he asked dryly.
It disturbed her that he'd said "your" wedding night instead of "our" wedding night. He'd mentioned a baby, so didn't that mean marriage? Perhaps to him it didn't, and that raised even more disturbing questions.
She opened her eyes reluctantly, but all that wasn't blurred was his broad, dark face. "I don't know," she said in a thin voice. "I'm sorry!"
"You'll get used to me. Here. Let me help you out of that."
Before she could speak, his lean fingers were working at laces matter-of-factly, and seconds later, she was as nude as he was, her only coverings trapped under her body. She tensed, but when he stretched back out and sighed, closing his eyes, she let the tension drain out of herself and felt for the first time in her life the unblocked kiss of the sun on her body.
"My goodness," she whispered, feeling languid and oddly sensual.
"Heaven, isn't it?" he murmured. "I used to have so damned many hang-ups about this sort of thing that I couldn't enjoy it. But I spent some time on the Riviera, and you simply can't indulge in modesty on a yacht when everyone else is stripped down."
Her head turned toward him and her eyes opened, wide and curious. "What were you doing on a yacht on the Riviera?" she asked slowly.
There was a pause while he lay there cursing himself silently and wondering ho
w he was going to talk himself out of that stupid slip. There was faint suspicion in her eyes, and he could have kicked himself for what he'd said. Of all the times to let his guard down! What could he say now, without making himself out to be a liar?
Seven
» ^ «
"Oh, I get it," Maureen said with a smile. "You worked your way across the south of France as a mechanic!"
"Exactly," he said as smoothly as he could. "Nice guess."
"Have you always been interested in mechanical things?" she persisted, trying not to notice the hard, perfect lines of the masculine body next to hers. Even his legs were tanned like the rest of him, and there was no white streak across his lower spine. He looked broad and fit and extremely sexy.
"I used to take things apart when I was a boy," he murmured.
"I'll bet your parents loved that."
He frowned slightly. "I beg your pardon?"
"Well, taking alarm clocks apart, and lamps and things."
He shifted a little. "I wasn't at home. I was away at school."
Her eyes watched his face. "At a boarding school?" she asked hesitantly.
"It was a school for delinquent boys," he said shortly. "I got in trouble with the law when I was about thirteen and my parents turned me out of the house."
"Oh, Jake," she whispered softly. She reached out a gentle hand and stroked his forearm. She could almost feel the pain radiating out of him at the memory.
"My God, you open me up," he muttered. "I've never told that to another living soul."
"Is it all right if I look smug, then?" she asked with a smile.
He sighed and rolled over onto his side to study her face, enjoying the way she tried not to look at him. She lost the battle, and despite her blurred vision she got an eyeful. She jerked her gaze back up to his face and tried to pretend that her face wasn't scarlet.
"Go ahead. Look at me if you want to," he said gently. "I'm not self-consciousat least not since I've dropped about fifty pounds," he mused.
"I can't picture you being overweight," she ventured.
"I was fat, honey." He rolled over onto his back and stretched lazily, enjoying the sun on his body. He closed his eyes, giving Maureen the opportunity she was too shy to take while he was watching. He smiled, knowing how fascinating she found him.
And she did. Her eyes lingered helplessly. She'd seen men this way in a magazine that Charlene had brought to work, but never a man in the flesh. Jake was beautifully made. Thick black hair curled down his tanned body to powerful long legs and a blatant masculinity that made her feel weak all over. She'd had a taste of his lovemaking, and she imagined that in bed, he'd be every woman's secret dream. Her body began to throb in the oddest way as she gave her eyes their freedom. He was close enough that most of him didn't blur, and she learned things about him that were faintly shocking when his body began quite suddenly to react to her frank appraisal.
He was studying her, propped up on his forearm so that he could see her face. She looked into his eyes and realized only then that she was propped up, too, and he could see every inch of her.
The strange thing was that she didn't want to lie down again or cover herself, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to be like this with him.
"Come here, little one," he said softly. "Let it happen."
She trembled as his lean hands gently brought her over him. She felt her whole body clench at the feel of warm muscle and abrasive hair tickling her soft skin, but she gave in without a single protest.
He brought her mouth to his and kissed it as he never had before, with tenderness and aching warmth. His hands smoothed over her, drawing her between his hard-muscled thighs, into an embrace that was shocking and sweet and all of heaven.
"Oh, yes," he breathed huskily. His hands went to the base of her spine and held her against him in total intimacy while his hard mouth brushed with maddening leisure at hers.
Her own hands had moved shyly to frame his face and she kissed him back with the same hunger she could feel rippling through his large body.
He eased her onto her back and looked down into her eyes while he touched her, lingering on her small, firm breasts and flat belly. Then his breathing deepened as he began to touch her with infinite care, and she caught his wrist and gasped.
"You're going to belong to me in a very few minutes," he whispered gently. "I have to know how careful I need to be with you. Just relax." She did, shivering as he kissed her and probed gently. "I won't have to hurt you very much," he whispered.
Her eyes opened as his mouth moved down onto her breasts and made her writhe with the sweetest kind of sensual torment. She moaned and bit her lip to stifle the sound.
In the back of her mind there was a last virginal fear of what lay ahead, and a nervousness about being like this with him out in the open. But no one would come, she thought dizzily, and they were totally secluded from the view of any neighbors
He kissed her lazily as his hips began to move sinuously, his legs tangling with hers, moving against hers in a way that made her body sing with pleasure. She moaned again, because he was using not only his mouth but his whole bodyhis hands, his legs, his hipsas instruments of pleasure, playing her with consummate skill.
One big hand slid under her head, cradling it, and his eyes looked straight into hers when he moved with a slow purpose that her innocence recognized with faint fear.
"Lie still," he whispered. "I'll be very, very careful."
Her lips pressed together hard and then she gasped softly and winced.
"Just another few seconds, little one," he whispered. His hand tightened under her head. "Don't fight it Yes!"
She swallowed and breathed quickly, feeling her body absorb him with shock and wonder. Her eyes widened. Her dreams of intimacy hadn't been this staggering. He seemed to know, because his hands and his mouth were slow and tender as he drew her into the soft rhythm with him.
"I'm notprotected," she managed, as the first shock of pleasure began to lift her.
"I know," he breathed. His teeth caught her lower lip and tugged at it gently. His mouth moved against hers, parting her lips. "I want a child," he ground out.
She felt the world going wild with color behind her tightly closed eyelids. Sounds penetrated. Fierce whispers. Rough, rhythmic breathing. The faint cries torn from her throat as the new and staggering pleasure began to build in her and around her. She saw waves of red in her mind, swirling, going faster and faster. Above her, Jake's face was like stone, rigid with building passion. His hands caught hers and locked them to the ground above her head while his muscular body moved with growing fierceness, his weight forcing her deeper into the grass.
She cried out his name suddenly and then she began to sob, because the great surging waves were breaking in her body, crashing, crashing!
He bit off a word that she barely heard and stiffened even as his breath released and he sank against her with her name torn from him.
She was aware of the weight of him, of the dampness of her body and his, of beads of sweat running down her face. Of exhaustion and such exquisite pleasure, still clinging to her like her damp hair.
His mouth brushed tenderly against her ear, her throat. "We make music together," he murmured. "The sound of two souls joining in ecstasy"
Her hands touched his face and her eyes opened into his. "I love you," she whispered tiredly.
"I know," he whispered back. The wonder of it was in his eyes, in his smile. He bent and kissed her swollen lips warmly. "Now you have to marry me," he said softly. "You've compromised me. A man has to protect his reputation. I can't have women pointing fingers at me and whispering behind my back that I'm easy."
She laughed with pure delight and hugged him close, burying her face in his damp throat. "I'd marry you right now if I could."
"Monday," he suggested. "We'll have a blood test and get a license"
"I'll have to ask permission at work to get off."
"No, you won't." He kissed h
er again, hungrily. His blood began to race all over again. He lifted his head and the teasing vanished. "Let's go and bathe each other. Then I want you in a bed, slowly this time."
She shivered at the mental pictures he was painting. "Again?"
"Yes." He lifted himself away from her and got to his feet, magnificent in his masculinity. He reached down and pulled her up with him. Then, lifting her tenderly, his eyes adoring her, he carried her not into her apartment, but into his, and closed the door.
They slept finally, but it was long after midnight. She woke the next morning with a new soreness in her muscles and vivid memories of the afternoon and night before. She could hardly sit up she was so shaky. Her eyes lit on a bit of paper on the pillow and a black scrawl across it.
"It's all right if you get to work late," Jake had written. "Your boss won't mind. I'll see you after the test flight. Meet me in MacFaber's office. Jake."
She smiled, holding the bit of paper to her lips. Her eye caught something on the back and she turned it over. What was written there made her breath catch.
"If you aren't pregnant this morning, it isn't my fault."
She laughed. So he had meant it. It hadn't been a statement made in passion or to get under her guard. She stretched and went to look in the mirror, to see if she looked any different. She didn't, except for some passion marks in odd places on her creamy body. She flushed and went to borrow his dressing gown to go back to her own apartment and dress for work.
She'd always thought that her conscience would beat her to death if she slept with a man she wasn't married to. But Jake wanted to marry her. And she loved him, even if he hadn't been forthcoming about his own feelings. He couldn't have been so tender with her if he didn't love hercould he?
They were going to be married in just three days and he wanted children with her. Everything would be all right. She'd be Mrs. Jake Edwards.