by Sara Orwig
“How can you expect me not to ogle you? You look luscious.”
“Can you pull the sheet a little higher. I know you’re not hot.”
“Au contraire, darlin’,” he drawled, rolling on his side and propping his head on his hand to look at her. “I’m hot as a pistol and you’re the reason. You’re wearing damn little and you’re going to be in this bed in a minute—off limits to me, I know. The temperature in this bedroom is tropical.”
“Jake, you’re making everything harder.” The minute the words were out of her mouth, she wished she could take them back.
“You couldn’t be more wrong on that one!” He paused to give his words special emphasis. “You, darlin’, are definitely the reason.”
“You turn your back to me and stay on your side of the bed. Keep your hands to yourself,” she said, thinking the night would seem a hundred hours long.
“I’ll oblige, but you sound a little desperate. Is there some problem you’re having difficulty dealing with?” he asked with innocence, his eyes dancing with mischief.
Her only problem was six feet two of masculinity, sexuality and incredible muscularity. A fantastic lover who could turn her inside out, make her lose control, envelope her in ecstasy. She wasn’t about to tell him, though. His ego was big enough and she was certain none of her thoughts on his ability as a lover would vary a degree from his own opinion.
“Are you going to turn over?” she asked.
He waved a hand, smiled at her and turned so that his back was to her.
“I hope you’re still wearing underwear,” she said.
“Disturb you too much if I sleep in the buff?”
She glared at him and tried to ignore the images conjured up of him naked beneath the sheet. “Jake, can I get you to turn off the night-light?”
“If you don’t mind, I need it in case I get up in the night and bump my shins.”
Jake could move like a cat in the dark and he wouldn’t be getting up, anyway. She glared at him and with a glance around the room and at the floor where she did not want to sleep, she lay down on top of the sheet and pulled another blanket over her.
“You’ll get hot tonight, darlin’.” His voice was a low rumble in the quiet room. “You’re bound up like a mummy. If you get hot and kick off the sheet in your sleep, don’t blame me.”
The bed jiggled and she looked over her shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“Just turning over,” he answered, holding up a bare muscled arm and waving his hand. “You’re in bed now and covered to your chin.”
“You’re only inches away,” she said between clenched teeth. “You stay on that side of the bed and keep your hands to yourself,” she repeated, looking into eyes that smoldered with desire.
“I’ll try to oblige, but until tonight, I’ve been accustomed to holding you in my arms while I sleep. Haven’t you noticed that sometimes I pull you close when I’m sound asleep?”
“If you do that, I’ll scoot away. Just don’t do it when you’re awake,” she declared, wondering why she was even talking to him. Jake would do exactly as he pleased. She could detect a faint whiff of his aftershave, the special scent that was Jake.
“Wouldn’t think of it. Too bad you’re on the outs with me. My aching muscles could use a massage badly. I’m going to be too sore to move tomorrow.”
Startled, she turned over to stare at him. “Are you telling me the truth?” she asked, recalling the bruises she’d noticed earlier.
“Darlin’, I hurt from my neck to my toes. Particularly my lower back. That Anthony is short, but he’s like a freight train. He tackled me and laid me out flat. And then they all piled on.”
She bit her lip. She wouldn’t put anything past Jake. He could be lying. Or he could be telling the truth. That gave her a twinge of guilt, since he’d been at the football practice because of her. She’d had no idea the guys would be so rough with him. Concerned, she looked at his bare shoulders and saw one dark bruise. “I never thought you’d get hurt. I’ll have a talk with them.”
Jake grinned. “Hon, you skip the talk,” he said. “I’ll deal with them.”
She was certain Jake could take care of himself, but she’d talk to all four boys, anyway.
“Do you suppose your folks have any painkillers?”
“I’m sure they do in their bathroom, which I’d have to get to by going through their bedroom.” She’d never known Jake to take any kind of pill. Nothing. She rubbed her forehead. On one hand, she thought he deserved what he got. On the other, she felt badly about his injuries. She sat up and studied him more intently.
In the soft illumination of the night-light his mouth was an invitation. She was aware of their breathing, the only sound in the room. “Are you telling me the truth, or are you lying again?”
“I hurt, I promise you. But I’ll live, so go on to sleep.”
Her gaze raked over him and she saw another bruise on his arm and a long scratch on his forearm.
“All right, Jake, but if you’re lying again, so help me! Turn over. I’ll give you a quick massage.”
“Ahh, angel of mercy,” he said with such satisfaction, she wondered again whether he hurt at all, in spite of the bruises.
She looked at his bare back and drew another deep breath. “Where do you hurt the most?”
“I don’t believe you’ll massage me there tonight,” he answered.
“Jake, that does it!” she exclaimed, starting to turn away, but his hand snaked out and caught her wrist.
“Darlin’, I’ll behave. Give me a rubdown. My muscles are burning with pain.”
She looked into eyes that told her nothing. “Show me where, Jake.”
He rolled over on his stomach and pointed low on his back. “Down there the most. Then all the way up to my neck.”
She glared at him, wondering again if she was falling for one of his tricks. She scooted closer and tried to give him a rub. His muscles were solid as rock and his body was warm. She was too aware of her hands on him, so close to his bottom. She looked at his thick black hair and remembered combing her fingers through it. Memories tormented her of showering kisses over his broad shoulders and down his smooth back. She tried to close her eyes and massage without thinking.
“Ahh, darlin’,” he said in a husky voice. “Your hands are always magic. You don’t know what you do to me.”
“Save the conversation, Jake,” she said. Touching him, looking at his bare back, made the erotic memories return. As she kneaded his back, the bedspread wrapped around her began to loosen. She slipped off the bed. He turned to look at her.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m coming around to the other side of the bed so I can reach you better.”
“I could make a suggestion,” he said.
“No.” She imagined he would tell her to straddle him. She wasn’t doing that and she wasn’t going to massage him much longer. He would just have to ache. She walked around the bed and he stretched back out on his stomach with his face turned toward her. Every stroke of her hands on his smooth warm skin was torment. Adding to her misery, reminding her of intimate moments, Jake closed his eyes, and made satisfied sounds—until finally she stood and went to her side of the bed. “That’s it, Jake. Massage over.”
“Thanks. I feel better,” he said. He turned to watch her as she slid under the blankets, but stayed on top of the sheet to keep that slight barrier between them. He looked amused. “Scared to get under the covers with me, even when I promised I’d stay over here?”
“You’re still only inches away. And stop talking. Good night, Jake.” She clamped her mouth closed and squeezed her eyes shut and after a few minutes, realized she wasn’t going to be able to sleep. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his presence disturbed her. She tried to breathe deeply, struggling to relax, but all she could do was listen to Jake’s breathing and think how near his almost naked body was.
In spite of her anger, she sizzled with desire. Ho
w could she touch him, massage his back, look at his body in only briefs and not be aroused? She thought about taking a shower, but she’d have to go down the hall, and it would make noise that might wake her family. She gritted her teeth and attempted to relax, but failed as woefully as before.
She knew she was in for a sleepless night, hot with wanting Jake, angry and frustrated. How long would it be before she’d succumb to him? He had teased and flirted tonight, keeping her aware of him. He knew how seductive it was for her to see him bare and touch him and yet not be able to make love with him. She wanted his arms around her, wanted his kisses with a passion that equaled her anger.
She turned on her back, and it was hours before she finally drifted to sleep.
She awoke with Jake’s arm around her and her leg thrown over him. She felt hard flat planes, sculpted muscles, crisp hairs tickling her breasts. Startled, she tried to scramble away. When his arm tightened, she looked up to meet his gaze.
“You promised…” she began.
“I woke up this way and I was afraid if I moved, I’d wake you.”
“Right, Jake,” she said, fuming, breathing hard, her skin tingling everywhere it made contact with his. Then she realized her blanket had gone and she was on top of the sheet, with only her lacy bra on, otherwise bare to her waist. She reached for a cover and yanked it up, glancing back at him. “Why don’t you turn away?”
“I will if you want me to, but this view is the best in town,” he said in a voice that strummed over her nerves like a caress.
She closed her eyes. “Turn your back.”
He did and she stood, yanking up the spread to wrap herself in it. He glanced over his shoulder.
“Jake!” she snapped, turning her back.
“Can’t blame me for sneaking a peek,” he said. “I’m just looking, not touching. Or kissing. Or fondling—”
“Will you stop!” she hissed, and grabbed her clothes to go down the hall to the bathroom to shower and dress.
All through breakfast, she had to smile and be nice to Jake, who had caught on that she didn’t want her parents to get an inkling about the true state of their marriage. Jake continually kept his arm around her, brushed feathery kisses on her temple, held her hand, as if they had just returned from an idyllic honeymoon.
She wasn’t alone with him until she was in his car to drive to church. “You keep your hands to yourself the rest of the morning,” she said.
“You said you didn’t want your folks to know we’re not happily married.”
“You’re fawning over me like we just got married and are wildly in love. You weren’t like that after our honeymoon.”
“Think back,” he said. “I believe I might have been. Anyway, I’m just trying to present a picture of a happily wedded couple.”
“Ease up a bit, please.”
“Am I irritating you, or is it something else?”
“I’m not even going to answer that question,” she replied in haughty tones. “I’ll get over you, Jake. I promise I will.”
He smiled at her and took her hand, but she shook free swiftly. “There’s no one to convince right now. You stay on your side of the car.”
“By the way, I actually had a good night’s sleep. Your massage helped. I’m not as sore as I expected to be.”
“I’m not sure I’m glad to hear that,” she said.
“Wow,” he teased. “Did someone get up on the wrong side of the bed? We could have remedied that.”
She pressed her lips together and tried to ignore him.
During the church service, they shared a hymnal. She noticed that Jake knew the hymns without using the book and she wondered about his life growing up. They really knew very little about each other. She’d met his family, his mother and younger sister, but she didn’t know them well. Jake didn’t talk about his childhood much.
Once church and Sunday dinner were over, she and Jake left her parents’ home in separate cars. She didn’t want him to tease and flirt with her anymore today. She didn’t want him looking for her, so she called home and left a message for him that she had errands to run and would be in late. She drove to the city library, curled up with a book, but she couldn’t get past the first paragraph and finally dozed in the chair.
Her cell phone woke her and she saw the call was from Jake, but she ignored it and nodded off again. She got a cheese sandwich at a drive-through and finally went home, bracing herself for another encounter with Jake.
To her surprise, she didn’t see him. His cars were in the garage and the limousine was there, so Jake had to be somewhere in the mansion, but she went to her room without seeing him.
She had no intention of going to look for him, certain that sooner or later he would appear.
When ten o’clock came, she changed and crawled into bed, exhausted and surprised she hadn’t heard from Jake. She was worn-out emotionally and physically. She turned off the light, and rolled over and went to sleep, tormented by dreams of Jake holding her and kissing her.
Jake stood in the exercise room on the third floor and watched Emily drive into the garage. He knew she didn’t want to see him, that there had been moments yesterday and today at her folks’ when she’d been truly angry with him. But he also knew that she was angry at herself, too, because she couldn’t resist responding to him.
And last night he couldn’t resist flirting with her. She was too tempting. How he’d longed to unwrap that ridiculous bedspread she put around herself and get rid of the wisps of lace, but he’d known he couldn’t. He’d liked flirting with her and while he ached a little from football with the kids, he hadn’t been in the dire shape he’d described to Emily, though he’d never admit it to her. Her hands on him had been both delight and torment. He liked her close, needed her touching him.
He’d been awake when he’d pulled her into his arms in bed. She’d been asleep, tousled, soft, warm, all curves and silky skin. When the six months were up, he didn’t want her walking out on him.
He didn’t even want this estrangement for the next six months. He rubbed his forehead. As far as he was concerned, every issue had a solution. Their relationship might have begun as a cut-and-dried contract, a business arrangement. But he wasn’t sure that was all it was.
They were fabulous in bed, but nothing to each other otherwise. They weren’t in love and never had been. She’d been sour on men and relationships when he’d proposed. He stood mulling over possibilities. He could court her, pour attention on her, win her heart. And then maybe in six months, she wouldn’t walk out on him.
And with luck, it wouldn’t take all six months to win her heart. Most women were easy. He’d just never really courted Emily or turned his full attention on her except in bed. He hit his forehead with his palm.
Where had his brain been? Why hadn’t he courted his wife? He’d taken sex with her for granted because it was fabulous, but he’d disregarded everything else, all the attention women so dearly loved and would reciprocate tenfold.
That was the answer—he would go after Emily’s heart. He wanted to win her love. The sooner the better, because the quicker he could get her back in his bed, the greater the chances of getting a baby on the way…and Hub’s money.
Whistling, Jake went to his bedroom where he made notations and reminders on his calendar. Why hadn’t he thought of this before? He had no doubt he could win Emily’s love.
They could start by having her family here more often. She’d have to associate with him when her family was around. He sat down to think of what would really please Emily and make an impression on her. First, he’d give her his undivided attention as much as possible. He’d work with those kids. He thought about how he could win them over. He wasn’t going through another afternoon like yesterday. If he won their friendship, Emily would soften up tremendously.
Jake began to whistle again, wondering what she was doing now, planning on beginning his campaign in the morning. He intended to make his wife fall in love with him.
Seven
S omeone knocking on the door woke Emily, and she rolled over in bed, momentarily disoriented. Then she heard another soft rap.
“Come in,” she called, pulling up the sheet even though she was dressed in blue silk pajamas.
Looking handsome and ready for the business world in a charcoal suit and white shirt, Jake entered and stood near the door. Her pulse jumped and for a moment she forgot the animosity between them, but then it returned and she stared at him, wondering what he wanted.
“I thought you’d be happy to know I’m going to Chicago. I’ll return tomorrow. I’ll try to contact the boys. If there’s time we can squeeze in a practice during the week. I think it would be good for them.”
“You do?” She was shocked that he actually was going to try to help them and put himself out more than she’d required.
“Yeah. But they’re pretty busy and may not be able to, but we can get together for an hour and I can give them pointers.”
“You’re serious?” she asked, wondering what had brought this about.
He nodded. “I talked to your dad about working with them the other night, and it seemed like the thing to do.”
She was surprised—and at a total loss.
“Bye, Em.” He turned and left, closing the door behind him.
Emily felt as if she’d just had a dream, but she knew she was awake and it had all been real. That had been a man who looked like Jake, but didn’t act like Jake. Jake wouldn’t give the time of day to anyone unless they were family or friends, or he could benefit financially from the association. So what had brought about this extra time with the boys?
Remembering she had a busy day, she climbed out of bed. She was going to start spending Jake’s first payment.
Thursday, the board of the children’s shelter was meeting for her to talk to them about setting up a fund. Arranging things at her father’s church would be easy, because the church committees and her dad would decide where the money would be spent, with a large portion going for missions.