Men Made in America Mega-Bundle

by Gayle Wilson, Marie Ferrarella, Jennifer Greene, Annette Broadrick, Judith Arnold, Rita Herron, Anne Stuart, Diana Palmer, Elizabeth Bevarly, Patricia Rosemoor, Emilie Richards

  With that, she yanked both sides of his shirt apart, sending more buttons flying after the first. The remaining slid from their holes on contact. Breathing hard, she pulled the material down his shoulders.

  “Good thing,” he murmured.

  Curtailing eagerness at every turn, he worked his way along her chin, grazing it with his teeth. When she moaned, he thought his own knees would buckle. How could something so delicate reduce him to such a mass of wants and desires so quickly? How could it take a strong, strapping man in his prime and turn him into something that bore a startling resemblance to a bowl of hot oatmeal?

  It didn’t matter how. What mattered was that she had. Easily.

  Because he wanted to give her every opportunity to pull back, even if the price would be his own self-destruction, Luc forced himself to slow down. And thus to tantalize and tease them both beyond endurance by doing so.

  With his forefinger, he caught the inside of her jeans, slowly passing the tip of his finger along the sensitive skin of her quivering belly. He could feel his own breathing growing shallow, speeding up until the sound of it matched the tempo he heard coming from her. Slowly, his eyes on hers, he flipped the metallic button out of the hole and then, even more slowly, slid the zipper down to its source. The look in her eyes excited him, urged him on.

  She tightened her fingers on his triceps as he slipped both hands inside her jeans, coaxing them from her hips, inch by torturous inch.

  A flare went up, searing through the hot passion that was enveloping her. A sliver of icy panic she fought to beat back.

  He could feel it, feel the alarm she was struggling to overcome. Concern took precedence over desire. “Alison? What is it?”

  “Nothing.” She pressed her lips to his. “Nothing.” She would outrace it, she would. This one time she wouldn’t allow it to ruin things.

  The kiss deepened. The wild spinning in her head returned and she clung to it, concentrating on it, focusing on Luc, and not on the specter of fear that stood just outside the perimeter of her consciousness, searching for a crack to wedge through.

  She was like a woman possessed, he thought. His realm of experience was not nearly as broad as his cousin’s and he had never had a woman do these kinds of things to him, create such sensations within him. He hardly knew himself. There was tenderness, but it was framed in passion the likes of which he could barely control.

  Kicking away his own jeans, Luc took her to his bed, laying her down and enveloping her in his arms. In his world.

  Wildly she struggled to draw this bit of happiness to her before all her castles in the sky came crashing down. Before the fear she had lived with all these years, fanned by a dark memory, rose up to destroy everything and freeze her.

  “Make love with me, Luc,” she breathed, her chest brushing against his, enflaming him.

  He paused, gathering what was left of his senses. Brushing aside the damp hair that had plastered itself against her forehead, he looked down at her face. Very lightly his fingers ran along her cheek. He didn’t see fear in her eyes, but was it still hovering somewhere, waiting for her, waiting for a weak moment? He wanted this to be as wondrous for her as it was for him. Otherwise it wasn’t any good.

  A smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “I thought that’s what I was doing.”

  She wasn’t saying it right again, but this was no time to search for the right words. “I mean, take me, now.”

  He wanted to. Needed to, but there was pleasure in prolonging the journey, in making her feel desirable, precious, and he meant to give her that.

  His mouth beside her temple, he whispered, “Slowly, Alison, slowly,” and drove her utterly insane.

  Demands drummed through her, shrieking for release. Wanting, just this once, to reach their peak and burst. She arched against him, her body pleading her case more urgently, more eloquently, than her words ever could.

  Still he held to his silent promise to give her more, making love to her with every fiber of his being. Touching gently, caressing not fondling, and all the while, worshiping her and this heretofore undiscovered sensation that he’d now laid claim to.

  Until he couldn’t resist the siren song any longer.

  He’d reduced her to a mindless puddle of quivering needs and responses. There was nothing but haze around her. Haze and his wondrous face. She saw it above her now as she felt his body draw slowly over hers. Her heart quickened, feeling the edginess of fear approaching. Without a word, she opened for him, arched toward him. Ready, wanting. Hopeful.

  She bit her lip when he came to her, struggled against the pressure she felt as he filled her. Her nails dug into his shoulders and her muffled cry was swallowed up within his mouth. And then, the fear that had been encroaching vanished as she began to move with him. Move urgently toward the final pleasure.

  When it came, she bit her lip to keep from crying out her exhalation. She’d never reached this peak before, never felt a climax shudder through her body, bringing with it a taste of paradise. Euphoria blanketed her.

  Heart slamming against her ribs, breath depleted, she fell back, exhausted. Alison didn’t even realize that her eyes were squeezed shut until she opened them again. And looked up at his face.

  She had no idea what she expected to see there. Pity? Triumph? Annoyance? She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she couldn’t read his expression, but his eyes were kind.

  Luc stroked back her hair again, then lightly kissed her lips. “Does that qualify?”

  She didn’t understand. “Qualify?”

  “As making love.” Maybe she didn’t remember. “In the middle of it, you asked me to make love with you and I just wanted to make sure everything met with your satisfaction.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. And felt her withdraw. “Did it?”

  She turned her face into the pillow. “Don’t make fun of me.”

  Very gently he coaxed her back to look at him. “Oh, lady, after what just happened, there’s no way I have the strength to make fun of you.”

  A flicker of hope, of pride, came. It was silly, and yet it wouldn’t leave her. “Then it was all right?”

  Didn’t she know? Couldn’t she feel what had just happened? “It was ‘all right’ only if you have a very, very limited vocabulary.” He kissed her cheek, but she didn’t turn toward him. Whatever it was that held her in its grip was still there. And vying for possession of her again. The debate was short-lived. “I make it a practice never to pry, Alison, but if you want to talk to me…” He let his voice trail off, letting her fill in whatever needed to be filled.

  Caution and suspicion were in her eyes. “About?”

  He wished he had Ike’s gift for phrasing things. But he hadn’t, and he did the best he could, armed only with good intentions and his own desire to make her feel better. “About whatever it is that makes you so afraid every time I touch you.”

  Why did he have to ruin things by asking questions? She’d tried her very best to be what he wanted her to be. “I wasn’t afraid just then.”

  That wasn’t entirely true, but he let her have the lie. And even so, she’d needed a crutch to be with him like this. “Only because you’d had a drink or two.” The look in her eyes told him that he’d struck a nerve. “It let you put aside whatever it is that’s bothering you, but that’s not a permanent solution.”

  She wished he’d stop. “There is no permanent solution.”

  He moved off her and gathered her to him. He could feel her stiffening. Resisting what he was saying. “Talking it out is a start. My mother used to say that if something was bothering you and you didn’t let it out, it only got bigger and bigger—until it was bigger than you.” Her silence echoed between them. “Is that what happened, Alison? Did it get bigger than you?”

  She sighed, feeling tears gathering in her throat. “Maybe.”

  “Derek?” he guessed.

  She looked at him in surprise. “How did you know about Derek?”

  “Kevin told me.” He saw the lo
ok that came into her eyes. “Don’t blame him. That last night we were there, I asked if you were leaving anyone behind. He told me about your divorce.”

  Alison shook her head. “No, it’s not Derek. Derek just got caught in the cross fire.”

  Luc heard more than she was saying. “But he didn’t help.”

  Alison pressed her lips together, not wanting to say any more. Feeling she owed him at least something of an explanation. “No, he didn’t help. To be fair, I never told him, either. I thought that I could get over it on my own. Outgrow it.”

  He rose on his elbow, his eyes intent on her face. “What ‘it’? Alison?” He saw the resistance grow. “I’m not prying, I want to help.”

  She wanted to tell him, really wanted to. But the words refused to come out. They’d been locked inside for so long. The memory had been locked inside and if she opened it, the shame would return. The shame she swore she would never allow to take possession of her.

  “You can help by not asking me.” Gathering the comforter to her, she wrapped it around her body and got up. “I’m going to get ready for bed.”

  Frustrated, he watched her disappear into the bathroom. He couldn’t force her to tell him, so for now he’d let her retreat. But he meant to get to the bottom of whatever it was that was haunting her.

  And soon.

  Chapter Fourteen

  When he woke up the next morning, Alison was just coming out of the bathroom. Freshly showered with the smell of herbal soap about her, she was dressed and ready to leave.

  She was going to go without saying a single word to him. The thought saddened and angered him at the same time. He didn’t usually get angry.

  “Alison?” He heard her sharp intake of breath, as if he’d caught her off guard.

  She’d hoped to leave before Luc was awake, wanting to avoid him and any possible scene. It was the way she and Derek had lived out the last weeks of their marriage—avoiding one another.

  Without turning in his direction, she indicated the door. “I was just on my way out.”

  “I kind of figured that out on my own.” He paused, waiting for her to say something, to turn around. When she didn’t, he got out of bed and crossed to her. Tension took up three quarters of the bedroom. “We can’t go outside this room like this.”

  Forced to look at him, she raised her head and met his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll still go on pretending that I’m your wife.”

  It took a great deal of self-control for him not to grab her arms and shake sense into her head. He had no idea what had come over him. He wasn’t a physical man, not in that way. But last night had broken all the rules.

  “Damn it, I don’t care about what you’re pretending. I care about what’s going on inside your head.” He raked his hand through his hair, struggling to maintain control, searching for an anchor. “Look, Alison, if I took advantage of you last night in any way…”

  She stared at him, her voice deadly calm. He hadn’t a clue what was in her mind. “You think you took advantage of me?”

  He shrugged, helpless. Damning himself for his own weakness. “Well, you did have a few Smiles in you by the time we came home.”

  A jagged sigh escaped her lips. “If you thought that I was drunk, why didn’t you stop?”

  “Not drunk, just light-headed.” And so damn tempting, a saint couldn’t have turned away. “And I didn’t stop because I couldn’t. I tried, but you were so beautiful and so passionate—”

  You were just so pretty, Alison. The memory stabbed at her, she felt as if she’d received a physical wound. “So it’s my fault.”

  He stared at her. “Nobody used the word fault.”

  Her eyes were accusing as she raised them to his. “But that’s what you meant.”

  He’d always had infinite patience; why didn’t he have any now? “Damn it, stop putting words into my mouth, Alison.”

  She could hear the anger, reined in, but there nonetheless. Like Derek right after the beginning. Derek, who’d demanded his connubial rights. An urgency to flee came over her. She moved around Luc to the door. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to get to work.”

  He caught her wrist, turning her around. There was accusation in her eyes. Angry with himself for what he was doing, and with her for bringing out emotion he’d never known existed, he let her hand go. But he still stood blocking the door.

  He had no idea what to say, how to begin. So he didn’t. “We have a picnic to go to this afternoon.”

  She nodded curtly. “You know where to find me.”

  “That’s just it,” he said to the door after it closed. “I don’t.”

  The day passed in a fog, holding her brain hostage and refusing to release it, even for a moment. It took concentrated effort to get through the simplest of things. She felt as if she were sleepwalking through Shayne’s clinic. Alison didn’t know what to do about the feelings that were all knotted up inside. She wanted to be with Luc in every sense of the word, but at the same time she was afraid to be with him. Afraid of freezing. Worse, afraid of being afraid of freezing.

  It was best not to get involved with him in the first place.

  Too late, the phrase mocked her. She was there already, in the middle, or close to it. What she needed was a road map to show her how to get back outside again. Back to where things were just what they seemed and fun meant listening to hours worth of CDs.

  “You look a little preoccupied.”

  Her eyes jerked up from what she was writing. Without thinking, she flipped the folder closed. Jacob was standing in front of the reception desk, not more than six inches away from her. She hadn’t heard him come in. The clinic was supposed to be closed for lunch.

  “Jacob, hi. I missed you both at breakfast today.”

  Sitting on the corner of her desk, he took the excuse in stride. “Luc said something about you needing to get an early start. I hope we’re not driving you out.”

  The smile on his face was easygoing, genial. “No, of course not.” She took a breath, collecting herself. Trying not to sound like a scatter-brained idiot. “I just didn’t expect you here.” And Shayne was out on a call. Nerves drummed through her.

  She looked up at Jacob’s face. He looked a little pale, but she’d assumed that was his normal color. “You’re not sick, are you?”

  “No, I’m actually feeling a lot healthier than I have in quite some time. I’m strictly playing errand boy.” She flashed a grin. “Luc sent me to get you.”

  So, he didn’t even want to come to pick her up. Could she blame him? She’d almost taken off his head this morning. And as for last night…

  She pushed the file into the overflowing To Be Filed box. Maybe she’d come by later to catch up on that. Hearing about the picnic from Luc, Shayne had insisted on giving her the afternoon off. She owed him time. “It’ll only take me a few minutes to get ready.”

  “No rush.” Jacob got off the desk, stepping back and out of her way. “Gives me a chance to say a few words to you.”

  She slanted a look in his direction. Had Luc said something to him about her crazy behavior? “About?”

  “Jean-Luc.”

  She released the breath she’d been holding. “What about him?”

  “Just that I came back expecting to find…” How did he put this without making it sound insulting? “Well, whatever I expected to find, I didn’t find it. Instead, I see that Luc’s really happy. A large part of that’s due to you.”

  She waved away his words. They had nothing to do with the truth. “I think you’re giving me too much credit.”

  “No, I’m not.” Jacob came around so that he could face her. “He was always an easygoing guy, happy with whatever he had. But when—” He stopped, flushing. “I guess you know the circumstances surrounding the three of us.” She merely nodded in reply, allowing him to continue. “When Janice left him and then married me, well, I was afraid that was the end of our friendship. Worse, I was afraid that Luc would never come around again as far as rel
ationships went. For the first time in my life, I’m really glad to be wrong.”

  Taking her hand in his, Jacob looked at her for a long moment, then added, “If the road gets bumpy up ahead, give him a little slack. He’s a really great guy.”

  “Yes,” she answered quietly, drawing her hands away. “I know.”

  “All set?”

  She nodded, taking her purse. “All set.”

  But that was far from true.

  The sky, framing a pristine mountain range that picturesquely still retained some of its snow, seemed endless. Endless and crystal-blue.

  “I forgot how beautiful it was out here,” Jacob said. His head cradled in his wife’s lap, he lay in the grass just staring at the sky. “How peaceful.” By the sound of his voice, a laziness was beginning to slip through him. “I’m really going to miss this place when I go back.”

  “Right.” Sitting on one side of the red-checkered tablecloth he’d purloined for the afternoon from the Salty, Luc laughed. “You can’t take more than three days of peace and quiet in a row without looking as if you’re about to go crazy.”

  “Maybe,” Jacob conceded, “but it’s still nice having someplace to go to unwind.”

  “We could look into that cabin the Andersons are selling. It’s close to home,” Janice reminded him, home being Los Angeles.

  “Yes, but there’re roots here.” Jacob sounded wistful. Then, as if hearing himself, he squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll sell the old homestead.” He knew that was what she was worried about. That he’d find an excuse to hang on to it.

  “Why?”

  It was Alison who posed the question, and they all turned to look at her.

  Janice frowned at her. “Because that’s why we came. To sell his parents’ property.”

  “But why sell it?” Alison prodded. She rose on her knees, enthusiasm getting the better of her. The idea she was toying with seemed like a nice way around everything. “Why not turn it into something? Some kind of business?” She turned to Luc, looking for backup. “You’re good at that sort of thing. Can’t the house be turned into something? A sort of bed-and-breakfast-type hotel, maybe?” Work on the hotel that already existed, Sydney had told her, had been at a standstill for almost two years now. The money and interest on the owner’s part had long since run out and it remained now like an incomplete thought, standing in the shadows of the town. “People do come through in the summer, Shayne told me so.” She’d even had a tourist or two pointed out to her. “Maybe they’d stay a while if there was somewhere to stay.”