Tempestuous need glittered in her eyes, as clad only in a very sexy red silk bra and panties, she drew him to his feet and slowly removed his shirt. “I thought you were tired.”
Her hands divested him of the last of his clothes, then closed over his pulsing hardness. “Not that tired.”
Playfully, he drew the bra straps down over her arms, exposing her erect nipples. “So I see.”
She stretched out, facing him on the bed. Smiling as he eased his fingers beneath the elastic and found her damp, silky, waiting. Wanting. Bent to kiss the curve of her bare shoulder. Grinning lustily, she observed, “You’re not too tired, either.”
“I’m never too tired to make love with you.” He’d never stop wanting her, needing her, either.
Determined to make this lovemaking more memorable than anything they’d ever had, he eased the lingerie from her body and rolled so she was beneath him. Positioned himself between her thighs. She came up off the bed as his lips lowered, suckling gently. Her thighs fell even farther apart as he kissed and stroked. Until she shuddered and fell to pieces in his arms.
And only when she could stand it no longer did he slide inside her, in one smooth languid stroke. She clenched around him as he filled her completely, taking him and making him hers. Letting him possess her, hold her and love her, until there was no more denying how much she wanted and needed him in her life. Until the future was theirs, too, for the taking.
All he had to do, Zane thought, as their shudders ended, and they lay together, cuddling, was complete the mission he had embarked on this Christmas.
The mission that would bring both Nora and Liam into his life from here on out.
Unfortunately, there was still a lot to do to make it all happen, he thought, as he stroked a hand through her hair. “I probably should go,” he said.
“Stay,” she murmured, pressing a string of sleepy kisses across his chest. “Just a little while longer...”
He didn’t have to be asked twice. Reveling in the feel of her lissome body entwined with his, Zane shut his eyes. The next thing he knew it was midnight. He had stayed past the time he should. And the bed beside him was empty.
He rose and pulled on his pants. Went down the hall to the nursery. Liam was still sleeping peacefully in his crib. There was no sign of Nora.
He found her downstairs sitting on the sofa, her laptop in front of her. Clad in a long-sleeved, red T-shirt and matching flannel pajama bottoms, her chestnut hair falling in a loose braid over one shoulder, her lips still swollen from their kisses, she looked gorgeous, well-loved. And worried.
Tamping down the desire to draw her into his arms and make love to her all over again, he sat down next to her. “Everything okay?”
She turned a troubled glance his way. “I couldn’t sleep. I keep thinking about Mr. Pierce.”
Zane wasn’t surprised. The elderly man had been on their minds a lot lately. “Still feel like you’re missing something?”
Nora nodded. “There’s always a reason why symptoms appear. We can’t always find it or identify it, but it’s usually buried somewhere in the patient’s medical history.”
“I thought you and Dr. Wheeler had been all through this.”
Nora exhaled. “Numerous times. The signs all point to sundowning, and perhaps the very, very early signs of dementia or Alzheimer’s.”
“But you don’t agree?”
“No.” She tapped her index finger against her lips. “And I don’t know if it’s my gut instinct kicking in, the fact I knew Mr. Pierce all those years growing up, that is making me think his intermittent confusion and disorientation is caused by something else that is eminently treatable.”
She shook her head miserably. “Or if it’s because I am so fond of him that I am refusing to accept what could, in time, become a hopelessly demoralizing and discouraging diagnosis.”
Denial was tough. He had been in his own form of it for years now. He took her free hand in his and lifted it to his lips. “So what next?”
Nora reluctantly shut the lid of her computer. “I talk with Mr. Pierce tomorrow. Go over what we know and see if I can find something we might have inadvertently overlooked.”
* * *
“IS ZANE COMING in today?” Miss Isabelle asked the following day, while Nora passed out the morning medications to the residents already in the dining hall for breakfast.
“No,” she said, recalling how passionately they had made love before he left. “He had to go to Dallas for a few days.”
“So close to Christmas?” Miss Patricia frowned.
“I bet it has something to do with that Raquel person.” Betty Blair glowered.
Actually, it did. But, not about to go into that with them, Nora simply smiled. Trying not to feel defensive, even though Zane was still keeping an awful lot from her, she said, “Let’s not forget Zane did grow up there and still has a lot of friends living in that area,” she pointed out reasonably. “Second, whatever Zane’s reason, it’s his business, don’t you think?”
“As long as he comes back in plenty of time to spend Christmas with Liam and you, Nora,” Miss Sadie said with an elegant smile.
The constant matchmaking was both heartwarming and exasperating. Knowing, however, the LG residents only had her best interests in mind, Nora reminded everyone gently, “He has plans with his family, too.”
“Are you invited?” Miss Mim inquired hopefully.
“Yes.” She blushed, trying not to make too much of that. Although she could see everyone else was. “And I’m sure he will also find time to swing by here to wish everyone a merry Christmas, too.”
“What about the Ugly Sweater contest?” Betty Blair asked.
“He was reading the rules for it just last evening.”
“So he is going to enter!” Miss Patricia swallowed her meds.
He was going to have to, since he had also roped Liam and Nora into it. “Absolutely,” Nora promised. Then headed down the hall to check on Mr. Pierce.
He was still in his pajamas and wearing slippers. His robe was hanging over the back of the chair next to his bed. Not particularly good signs. “Are you cold?” Nora asked, wondering why he had his winter coat on, too.
“No.” Russell Pierce patted his empty pockets. “Just looking for my car keys.”
Oh, dear, he was confused again. In the morning, too! Usually he was fine in the morning. Nora gently touched his arm. “You don’t drive anymore, Mr. Pierce. Remember?”
“Sure I do. Our minivan is in the...” He stopped. Looked at his clothing and sat down on the edge of the bed. He picked up the leather-bound edition of Great Expectations and idly fingered the clasp. Muttered something heartfelt that Nora was just as glad not to be able to decipher.
She poured him a glass of water from the pitcher at his bedside table and handed him the plastic cup holding his morning medications.
He took them.
“Is this a good time for us to talk?”
Mr. Pierce nodded.
Nora pulled up a chair. “First, I want you to know that the occupational therapist who is going to be working with you on memory exercises is coming at four this afternoon. The physical therapist will be here tomorrow. And we hope to have your more structured daily routine in place by the end of the week.”
Looking oriented again, Mr. Pierce nodded. “Thank you, Nora. I appreciate all you’re doing.”
“You’re welcome. Do you mind if we discuss your medical history for a moment? I was going over your pharmacy records last night, and I had a few questions.”
“I’ll answer anything I can.”
“I appreciate that.” She referred to the notes on her clipboard. “The last time you had any changes in your medication was last summer, when you started a new daily antihistamine. Do you remember why you made the
switch from the one you had been taking? You were in New York City at the time.”
“I had a couple of sinus infections earlier in the year, related to my pollen allergies. So the doc there thought the newest latest greatest thing might be the ticket to get rid of them.”
“How did you react to it?”
“Fine.”
“Have you had any sinus infections since?”
“Not a one.”
Nora made another note. “And nothing else has been prescribed for you?”
“No. The doctors figure with my cholesterol, blood pressure and allergy medications, I’ve got enough going on.”
“And when did your memory issues start?”
He grinned. “I can’t recall.”
Nora paused. “Are you joking, or...?”
Russell Pierce sobered. “Actually, I don’t really know. Esther always said I only remembered the things I wanted to remember, and she was right. I only half listened most of the time.” He looked sad again.
“And your move to New York last summer? What prompted that exactly?”
“I had locked myself out of my house a couple of times and misplaced my wallet and lost all my ID, and my daughter didn’t want me living alone anymore.”
Nora paused. Aware this wasn’t in her records. “So you were having memory issues before the move?”
“Yes, but—” briefly his expression became prickly “—no more than I had always had. I tended to do that a couple of times a year anyway. But Lynn was concerned and wanted to spend more time with me, so I let her talk me into it.”
Nodding, Nora wrapped up with a few more questions.
Satisfied Mr. Pierce was alert and aware again, she left him to dress unassisted and went back to her office.
The rest of the day was very busy. By the time she finished up for the day and collected Liam, the excitement over the Ugly Sweater competition was at full pitch.
“You better have something really wild to show everyone,” Nora said when Zane called her from Dallas that evening.
“I don’t know about wild. How about simply memorable?” he teased.
Nora groaned, still wishing he were here with her, instead of over one hundred and fifty miles away. “I hope your sense of humor matches the Laramie Gardens residents’, soldier.”
He chuckled. “How was Liam this evening?”
“Good.”
“I missed seeing him.”
“He missed seeing you.” Her son had gotten used to having two adults around at bedtime, to help with the bathing and feeding, rocking and cuddling and story time.
Zane exhaled. The sound seemed to carry all the loneliness she was feeling. “I missed seeing you, too,” he said.
Same here, was on the tip of Nora’s tongue. But something, some inner vulnerability, wouldn’t let her say it. If she got all emotional, she could start crying and really feeling sorry for herself.
And that would not be good.
For either of them.
“When will you be home? I mean,” she corrected hastily, “back in Laramie County?”
He let her remark go unchallenged. “Thursday morning,” he said cheerfully.
“The day after tomorrow.”
Which meant another day and night, and maybe day alone.
How was she going to survive without seeing him, being with him, making love to him every day?
“What you’re doing must be complicated,” she said, opening the door for him to tell her more.
To her frustration, he chose not to elaborate about that. Instead, said with his usual cheerfulness, “As long as I am in Dallas, however, I was wondering. Nora, what did you ask Santa for this year?”
Zane. With a big red bow on him. And a lifetime guarantee. Glad he wasn’t there to see her blush, Nora fibbed, “Mmm. I don’t know.”
He chuckled, deep and low.
Her entire body tingled in response. And missed him all the more.
“Everyone should have something to open on Christmas morning,” he said.
She knew that. And yet... Nora looked at her beautifully lit and decorated tree, struggling to contain her emotions. “We’ve never been really big on presents in my family.”
His voice took on a more determined edge. “Maybe it’s time that changed.”
Nora couldn’t contain a self-effacing laugh. “Good luck convincing Davina and The General of that.” She paused as the silence drew out, wishing Zane were there with her and could take her in his strong arms and offer all the comfort and joy she needed right then.
Nora dragged in a calming breath. “Did I tell you that I heard from my mom, via text message, and Davina was right? Our mom wanted me to buy and wrap something for Liam from her, too.”
“She’s not planning to come down for Christmas at all?” Zane did not sound happy.
Nora shrugged and tried not to feel bitter. “Maybe in the spring, she said.”
Zane was silent. They weren’t FaceTiming, so she couldn’t see his expression. And for once she was glad of that. She didn’t want to view his pity. It was enough to hear it in the awkward silence still stretching between them.
“Jewelry?”
“What?” she said, her mind still on the gregarious warmth of his family. He was so lucky to have the Lockharts in his corner. She wondered if he knew it.
“I need you to give me a category,” he said.
A frisson of fear trickled through her. Presents would make everything seem traditional, and they both knew their relationship was anything but the norm. “You really don’t have to do that,” she returned.
“I really want to do that.” His voice dropped a sexy, affectionate notch. “So...jewelry? Don’t all women love jewelry?”
They loved wedding and engagement and eternity rings.
But she couldn’t say that, either. Not without boxing him into a corner. And they both knew how much he hated that.
No, if Zane ever wanted to be with her and Liam, he would have to decide to do so on his own. Not be regimented into it. In the meantime, she needed to work on changing her own attitude. Becoming all that she could be in the mom and not-quite-a-girlfriend, not-quite-a-wife, but-a-heck-of-a-lot-more-than-a-simple-friend-or-lover category. “Maybe something Mom-ish,” she said finally.
“Like a locket?”
Or a wedding ring.
She really had to stop this. Wishing for the impossible. Even if it was Christmastime! “Or a broach with birthstones,” Nora said, “like my grandmother used to wear.”
She could almost hear him smile. With pleasure. Or was that relief? “Liam would probably like that,” Zane said.
He’d like us married even more, Nora thought.
But that wasn’t likely to happen. Not with Zane leaving again. And even if he did ask, she wasn’t entirely sure she could say yes. Even if it was what she wanted, deep down. Not when she knew he was just going to walk out the door. Not when she knew being married to him was only likely to leave her feeling even more lonely and disappointed when he did the inevitable and reenlisted.
“Nora...?” Zane prodded.
“Liam probably would like that. Very much. The question is, soldier, what do you want?”
“You, Nora,” he said in that husky, sexy way of his that made her catch her breath. “Just you.”
Chapter Thirteen
“What’s all the noise?” Zane asked over the phone the next afternoon.
“I’m chaperoning a field trip to the fabric and craft stores,” Nora explained.
“Ah. The Ugly Sweater contest.”
She could hear voices on his end, too. Low and businesslike, unlike the ones on her end, which were high-pitched and peppered with eager laughter. “Everyone is getting pretty excited.�
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“Sounds like it.”
Nora sifted through the stacks on the table, picking out a sweater her size, then Liam’s. Putting both into a basket. “Anyway, I called to see if you want me to pick up one of the green or red cotton sweaters the craft store just got in.”
“No.” The smile remained in his voice. “I’m good.”
He was in Dallas, where shopping options abounded. Figuring she might as well ask, as long as she was there, she said, “Did you need anything else? Fabric glue? Felt? Glitter? Jingle bells? Extra mistletoe?”
He chuckled. “Maybe the latter...”
Nora flushed at the veiled suggestiveness in his low tone.
The noises in the background faded. “So how are things with you?” Zane asked.
I miss you, Nora thought. Even though it had only been thirty-eight hours, five minutes and a few seconds since they had last seen each other. And less than twelve since they had last spoken on the phone. She rummaged through several spools of satin ribbon. “I’m good,” she said. Or as good as she could get without Zane.
“Liam?”
He misses you, too. “Also good.” She pretended a chipper attitude she couldn’t quite feel.
“How is Mr. Pierce doing?”
“Another rough evening.” Russell had wanted to see his late wife and had gotten agitated when she told him why that was not possible. Later, when he had finally understood, he’d become unbearably sad again.
As sad as Nora knew she would be if something happened to Zane, and their earthly connection ended.
“But he’s better this morning,” she forced herself to continue. And had been up and surfing the web on his computer tablet before breakfast, one of his beloved leather-bound classics sitting on the desk beside him.
The background noise on Zane’s end faded even more. She could imagine him slipping away from whatever was going on to get a little more privacy. “Did you hear back yet on the antihistamine you were researching?” he asked.
“No,” she admitted regretfully, doing the same thing and heading for a more deserted part of the store. She sighed. “But I’ve made queries at a dozen different places, so hopefully, something soon.”
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