She was also nervous as hell and didn’t quite know what to do with an excess of swirling energy. Looking into her heart, Shannon stayed still for quite some time as she gave herself over to the wishes she was forming and also the fears that weren’t quite ready to disappear.
Getting up, she tested her foot against the floor and was relived to find that she’d be able to start walking around on her own, if only just a bit. The ankle didn’t hurt at all when she stood; it just felt a bit funny from all the swelling that had gone down and the bruising that unfortunately was still evident.
Sometime later, she hobbled cautiously out of the bathroom, dressed in jeans and a boho-chic top with fluttery half sleeves that made her feel a little like a gypsy. With her tresses finally managed properly following a good blowout and the use of some old school combs holding back either side of her hair, she looked and felt more together and normal than she had for days. Hell, she’d even applied a quick swish of mascara on her naturally blonde lashes, giving her unusual eyes a sweet, sexy highlight that helped her self-confidence.
Nick was certainly back from his run, because she’d smelled another round of awesomeness coming her way from the kitchen for the last half hour as she got ready for the day. She was guessing bacon, coffee, and something with a hint of cinnamon that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She loved how domestic he was and wondered with an irritating flash of red-hot jealousy whether he’d ever been this casual and at home with anyone else.
Eight years was a long time and she didn’t imagine for a second that a man with Nick’s potent sexuality had been living the life of a monk. Her pragmatic side shouted that he was a man after all and what should she expect? The romantic side of her brain, though, was shaken by the thought. She’d never allowed any other man to touch her the way he had. Thinking of him with anyone else was too painful to dwell on.
She calmed a bit because she sincerely doubted that he had ever been this comfortable or as laid back with any other woman. Thinking of their easy camaraderie and the way he had always focused on her and her alone helped ease the green-eyed monster back into hiding. Worrying about things she couldn’t change would only lead to unnecessary anxiety.
Limping cautiously into the kitchen, she saw that she had been right about the bacon when she spied a huge pile of perfectly crispy strips on a platter next to an equally large bowl of sliced fruit on the kitchen island. She laughed at the sight of what the typical man would imagine was a healthy breakfast. Snatching a plump strawberry from the beautiful fruit bowl, she made her way gingerly, carefully protecting the injured ankle, to the oven where she found Nick bent over, peering into it. The heavenly aroma of cinnamon mixed with vanilla permeated the air, making Shannon’s mouth water.
“Something smells wonderful,” she cooed as she blatantly considered his fabulous rear end while thinking, and something looks wonderful, too.
Nick straightened on her approach as he pulled a hot pan out from the oven. Grinning ear to ear he showed her what he’d made, proudly proclaiming, “I make the best cinnamon coffee cakes you’d ever imagine!”
Dropping the pan onto a cooling rack, Nick immediately returned to Shannon’s side to offer her his arm as she made her way to one of the tall, upholstered bar chairs at the end of the island. “Hey, lady, looks like you’re making real progress with the ankle. How does it feel? You’re not overdoing it, are you?” he scolded before she could answer the first question. All Shannon could do was smile.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Having found an island of calm, Nick and Shannon eased through the day, making arrangements and plans for their trip east and Shannon’s family event. Because of the time change, they’d be taking off on a flight scheduled to depart at dawn. There was a lot to do before they traveled.
Shannon had spent a good deal of time on the phone and computer in her office turning over work duties to her assistant while Nick handled the endless details involved with getting them from Los Angeles to New York to Connecticut to Boston.
He laughed at her when she ransacked her closet searching for something suitable to wear to the big party. She had enough clothes to stock a showroom, if the pile of outfits flung on the bed were any indicator. It was an odd moment when she asked what color suit he’d be wearing.
“Formal or informal?” he asked before responding with decisiveness. “Black. Definitely Armani. Two button. White shirt. Silver cufflinks, and tie color of your choice.”
Shannon smiled at his answer. So, her cowboy pirate preferred black Armani. Why was she not surprised?
Choosing what to wear became much simpler after that, with Shannon taking enormous delight in knowing that she was coordinating their outfits just like any other couple. It was the simple things that affected her the most.
After putting her outfit into an old garment bag, Shannon had been surprised when Nick had interrupted by gifting her with a new set of luggage that had just been delivered. He looked…hesitant.
He’d given her a beautiful set of matching luggage that she couldn’t help but run her fingers over in appreciation. It was exactly what she would have chosen if she’d seen the gorgeous set in a store. There was a carry-all bag with a soft leather strap perched on top of two rolling suitcases, a garment bag, and a vanity case. She was astonished to realize that he had chosen all of it himself, or at least if not actually chosen, certainly described in great detail to someone tasked with getting him precisely what he wanted. That he could read her so effortlessly was oddly thrilling.
He’d selected an interesting muted brocade fabric with hand-stitched soft leather accents that she found charming. A little “old school,” which actually suited her, and also just this side of being quirky, the unexpected gift had moved her more than it should. That he’d taken such care in the choosing and the way he watched for her response warmed her enormously.
Nick hesitated in breathless anticipation. Would she eschew the gift because of the obvious cost involved? Had he moved too far, too fast? God, indecision and trepidation were wholly unfamiliar feelings for him, Nick thought wryly as he stood there starving for oxygen, holding his breath waiting for a reaction. She was killing him.
For long seconds she stared at the luggage with the strangest expression, a cross between astonishment and something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on. She was still killing him, only this time…slowly.
When she put out one of those delightfully feminine hands with the perfect pale-pink-and-white manicure and ran her fingers along the soft leather of the nearest bag, Nick all but fell over in relief. Anytime she put those fingers to use, something positive was happening. Her feelings operated like an empathic channel, and she often used her sense of touch to heighten her awareness.
To his enormous and satisfied delight, she graced him with a luminous smile that reached straight into his chest and surrounded his heart.
“Mmmm, Mr. Barrett,” Clearly feeling mischievous and delighted at the same time, she purred in perfect imitation of a genteel Southern lady, “Are you trying to turn my head, sir, with fancy gifts and romantic shenanigans?” Her cute Southern drawl nearly brought his six-foot-four frame to its knees.”
“I don’t know,” Nick husked. “Is it working?” he added with a flirtatious wink. If she wanted to play, he was more than game. This was what he remembered, what he yearned for. He and Shannon, together. Laughing together. Working together. Exploring together. Loving together. His heart rejoiced at another baby step taken.
“I’ll take these into your bedroom and open them up so you’ll have an easy time packing,” he announced, keeping things light but not overworking what had been a spontaneous moment.
“If you want me to stay and help…” he paused, giving her a moment to decide whether she needed assistance. When he saw no immediate need to step in, he added an unexpected playful twist of his own. With an air of joking innocence he told her, “I’d be happy to go through your lingerie and chose what you’ll need,” before playful
ly nudging her shoulder with his. “I remember that pink used to be your favorite color. Is it still, I wonder?”
He is the devil, Shannon thought. Struggling to find a suitable comeback comment, she ended up standing mutely while his twinkling leonine eyes smiled into hers. She was wearing pink undies this very moment, as it really was her signature color in intimate attire. It may be a cliché, but she liked how feminine it made her feel. She’d be damned, though, if she let him know that. He was hard to resist when he was being charming, and Shannon had long since concluded that she was anything but resistant or indifferent to those charms.
Before she could take back control of the conversation, he had started moving the luggage set to her bedroom, leaving Shannon to thrust her shoulders back and shake herself mentally in an attempt to be a little less of a simpering, giggly twit.
Oh dear, who was she trying to convince? Especially since right at this moment she had a perfect view of Nick’s absolutely perfect posterior encased in a pair of well-worn and totally-molded-to-his-form jeans. The type of jeans that left little to the imagination and made her hands itch to touch. Simpering, giggly twit, indeed. The lascivious groan tap dancing in her consciousness was fighting for air. Oh boy, she was doomed.
As he hauled the bags to the massive sleigh bed that dominated her bedroom, she got an even further reminder of the fully grown man he’d become. Her attention was riveted by the sight of his impressive biceps and strong thighs as he hoisted each bag onto the high bed. The bed they’d both slept in last night, together.
Limping slowly across the room to stand at the foot of the bed, Shannon looked at him across the expanse of mattress that separated them. Since their rapprochement and especially after Jules and Ned’s timely visit, she’d stopped fighting the aching, vulnerable awareness that his presence in her life evoked with her every breath. She wouldn’t survive if he walked away from her again, and now that the other ghosts of heartbreak past had been retired or banished one by one, this was the only lingering impediment that she still couldn’t breach.
He said she needed to have faith. Faith in herself and faith in him. That was a tall order, and not entirely due to trepidation about his motivations. Shannon worried endlessly about her own part in all of this. She didn’t know if she had faith in herself to be the woman she felt he deserved. She was afraid deep, deep in her secret heart of hearts that perhaps he’d been right the first time and maybe she didn’t have a place in his world. She still couldn’t bring herself to tell him the entirety of what happened to her after their emotional breakup even though he had asked her several times in several different ways.
She’d kept her responses bland with minimal description, a fact she knew was not lost on him. She was afraid to tell him now. At first she hadn’t confessed what she’d been through because she thought he was a bastard and didn’t need to know. As time went on, she’d avoided the subject altogether since she could not find a way to say, ‘Oh, by the way. We lost a baby and I hate you.’ That particular childish scenario had become a familiar one, having been acted out in her mind every day for a year. It did not, however, have any place in the present situation.
She was trapped in a cloud of tortured indecision because part of that secret heart of hearts honestly was the added fear that, once he knew what they’d lost, and how it had nearly destroyed her, he’d feel obligated somehow. She didn’t want his pity or his obligation. The truth of what she wanted was starting to see the light of day. She wanted him to love her again, which he said he did, and she wanted to feel confident enough to love him back the way he deserved.
He came around the bed to where she stood so quickly and silently that Shannon jumped when she realized how close he was. She could feel his heat reaching out to her, drawing her in. “I can’t wait to show you my home, sweetheart,” he breathed against her skin as he stepped in for a quick kiss. “Seeing yours the way I have this past week has been a delight. If I haven’t said it enough already, I love the way you’ve redone the house. Your use of soft fabrics and the subtle undertones of color throughout the rooms is very pleasing, indeed. Just like the lovely lady who lives here.”
She all but beamed at his praise and enjoyed the swift kiss before she watched him back out of her room. At the last moment, before he disappeared through the door, he fixed her with a scorching look that held her frozen and made her cheeks flush when he growled in a very sexy voice, “Pack something pink for me, little one.” And then he was gone.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The announcement that they would be taking Barrett’s private plane back east threw Shannon for a loop. When he took charge of making their arrangements to fly to New York City, she assumed they’d be going first class but hadn’t expected the company jet. Honestly, she hadn’t known such an option existed.
Her nervous excitement about being seated next to him for a transcontinental flight blossomed into an erotic tableau of possibilities available to them on a private jet. Good heavens, when had she become so sexually rampant in her thinking? Squirming impatiently in her seat as they drove through the still dark and quiet streets, Shannon grimaced in acknowledgement that the reason for her thinking was mere inches away from her and his seductive scent wafting through her senses was starting a chain reaction of needs and wants that she could not tamp down.
Shannon tried mentally cursing as a way to distract herself from where her mind was wandering, perhaps fooling herself that such a tactic would blunt the carnality of her response. But she gave up after only a few seconds because she never had mastered the fine art of swearing. Trying to pull it off now, even just in her mind, was making her uncomfortable.
Okay, time to change to a different tack. Perhaps humming quietly would provide the distraction she so desperately needed. Before resorting to the pathetic tactic, her mind stuttered to a halt. Oh god, she thought with a slight grimace, I shouldn’t look, but I can’t help it. His leg was so close to hers, close enough to actually sense the force field of his lethal, male aura. Lifting her eyes just a scant inch or so, her gaze encountered one of Nick’s hands lying absently against his thigh.
There was something about his hands that had always fascinated her. She remembered the work-torn palms and calloused fingers of the grad student she’d known. He’d been very hands-on back then, both with his labors during the day and of course with her whenever they could be together during long nights of intense touching and endless embraces. His caress was the only aphrodisiac she needed.
The thought sent off a mini-explosion in her tummy, causing Shannon to shimmy slightly while she tried to block out memories of long, slow, tactile explorations of each other’s skin that seemed to go on for days. She desperately tried to deny the building pulse of longing that these thoughts had ignited between her thighs.
The hands she surveyed today were those of a grown-up. He was all man now, his entire demeanor and the way he carried himself. How he went about being who he was screamed with testosterone and virility. Truth be told, it scared the daylights out of her.
She wondered what those hands would feel like on an exploration of her body. Would he remember the way she liked to be touched? Would he use his hands on her breasts, his fingers kneading her sensitive skin, feathering soft rings of sensation around her enflamed nipples?
On that thought, Shannon felt an immediate flush of guilty pleasure from her toes to the top of her head and pretty much wished she could scream from confusion or die of embarrassment. At this point, either would fit the situation she found herself in. Gulping back a wayward sigh lest he realize where her thoughts had been, she decided to close her eyes for a few moments to clear her head.
Nick was sure his extremely expensive designer trousers were about to spontaneously combust either from her intense heated gaze or from the fire that that gaze had started in his pants.
The way she’d been staring, or rather drooling, over what she saw in his lap, whether it was his muscular thighs, huge capable hands, or the ever-incr
easing bulge growing under his zipper, he wasn’t sure, but whatever it was had zapped right through his brain and landed straight in his genitals.
His incredibly strong reaction to being near her again had startled him from that first second of impact. Yes, he had dreamed of her often over the years. He still burned with a need to be inside her that was shaking his core. Last night he’d almost lost his mind having her so near.
Hell, right this second he wanted to transform some of the intensity she was displaying in her stare and just throw her back on the seat of the airport limo, push up her skirt, rip off her panties, and lose himself inside her this very minute.
Only a thrusting, grinding possession could slake his need for her in the most basic and primitive way. He wanted to watch her while she fell apart in his arms, watch her eyes as he came inside her. She was all that he had ever dreamed of. Pure sex wrapped, oh so neatly, in total love. Shit, he was in trouble.
Once they’d arrived at the airport where the Barrett jet was being prepared for their journey, he quickly got Shannon on board before the manifestation of a huge private jetliner, completely at his disposal, rattled her already-frazzled nerves. He wasn’t completely stupid, after all.
Inside the luxuriously appointed airplane, Nick introduced Shannon to the pilot who had been waiting near the entry steps for their arrival. There was a flurry of back-slapping comments and doubting the other’s manhood, the kind men who knew each other well liked to toss around in jest.
She was watching the odd banter between Nick and his pilot with her head tilted off to the side, a bemused expression on her face. One hand rested on a curvaceous hip while the other leg slightly cocked to the side. He was instantly jealous of her hand as he stared at her long, lovely fingers curled into her softly rounded woman’s hips. She looked utterly adorable in the off-guarded moment.
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