by Linda Wisdom
Jill stepped out of the shower, toweling herself off and patting on dusting powder before slipping on a nightgown and robe. She pulled back her comforter and slid between the sheets. She had just settled in when a nasty thought occurred to her. She jumped out of bed and tore out of her apartment, running down the stairs to the office. She switched the desk lamp on and rummaged through the papers on Greg’s desk.
“Bingo,” she whispered in triumph.
Jill ascended the stairs leading to Greg’s apartment and opened the front door. She was glad to find the interior dark. She had no problem skirting the living room furniture as she silently made her way to the bedroom.
Standing in the doorway, she groped for the light switch. A flick of her hand brought the room to dazzling brilliance.
Greg shot up in bed, as if a bomb had exploded under his bed.
“Wh-what?” He stared at Jill, unable to comprehend her presence.
“Greg! I found the pages!” she exclaimed, presenting him with a bright smile as she held up the papers.
Jill spun on her heel and left the room without bothering to turn off the light.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The next morning Jill was awakened by a knock on her door. She slowly surfaced from a wonderful dream to find out that the sound wasn’t coming from the front door but her bedroom door. Greg stood in the doorway, holding a teak breakfast tray that Jill recognized as hers. An enticing aroma wafted from the dishes on the tray.
“What’s this?” She squinted, since her eyes refused to open very far.
“An apology.” Greg offered her a tentative smile. He entered the room and set the tray in her lap.
Jill sat up and looked down at the dishes holding scrambled eggs, six pieces of bacon, and three warm cinnamon rolls. The smell of hot coffee next caught her attention.
“Nothing’s burned.” She looked stunned, not only at his peace offering but that nothing sported a charcoal coating. Greg wasn’t known for his culinary talents. He was more proficient ordering a meal in a French restaurant than cooking the simplest foods.
“It took a dozen eggs before I got it right,” Greg explained sheepishly, sitting down in the chair.
“Why don’t you get some coffee for yourself?” Jill suggested, accepting not just the meal but his apology.
“Sounds good.” He jumped out of the chair, looking grateful that she wasn’t going to throw him out.
Jill nibbled on a piece of bacon, which was a trifle overdone, and sampled her scrambled eggs, somewhat runny but edible. The store-bought cinnamon rolls meant to be baked at home were a little doughy in the center but good all the same. Jill smiled at the idea of Greg slaving over a hot stove fixing her breakfast.
He soon returned with a steaming mug and settled back in the cushioned chair.
“Everything all right?” he inquired anxiously.
“Fine.” She handed him a slice of bacon. “I can’t possibly eat all this, so I hope you don’t mind helping me out.”
“Jill, I acted like a perfect ass last night.” He sat hunched forward, his palms cradling the warm mug. “I, well, I wasn’t in the best of moods. I spent the afternoon at the museum and came out to a dead battery. When I finally got back and you still weren’t home, my bad mood just intensified because I didn’t know where you had gone. It’s been so long since you attended your dance class, I forgot all about it.” He smiled wryly. “Of course you certainly found a good way to get back at me. I couldn’t get back to sleep for over an hour.”
“You made me so mad I was tempted to do much worse,” she admitted. “Actually it served you right.”
Greg sipped his coffee and set the mug to one side. “We can’t ignore what’s happened, Jill.” He caught her hand in his. “Okay, so we ended up feeling as if it had been our first time and we weren’t sure what to do, but there was still something electric between us,” he insisted fiercely, leaning forward. “You can’t deny it.”
“Oh, Greg,” she whispered, shaking her head, saddened by the fervor in his voice for something that couldn’t be. “We’ve already broken a rule we set up a long time ago because we both unconsciously knew it just wouldn’t work for us. Deep down we knew we couldn’t afford to jeopardize our working relationship and friendship for a certain number of nights in bed and eventually a fizzled love affair. We think too much of each other to make any mistakes that could come back to bite us in the butt.”
His insides twisted when Jill blithely dismissed the idea of them having an affair; he wanted so much more than a few hours in bed with her. In fact, if he cared to be brutal with himself and admit it, he was in love with the little witch. It certainly explained why he never stayed long with any of the other women; they weren’t Jill. And here she acted as if what they had shared was over before it even had a chance to begin. Wrong! He’d just have to make sure to change her mind on that score. A moment of fast thinking gave him another idea of how to handle the situation.
“Then wouldn’t we be better off staying together as lovers?” he recommended offhandedly, releasing her hand and sprawling back in the chair, bracing his ankle over one knee. “We always get along.” He grimaced at her dry expression. “Okay, we usually get along. The past few days have been due to our stars circling in the wrong orbit and your chartreuse aura clashing with my puce one. Now everything should be pretty well smoothed out.”
Why did Jill find Greg’s suggestion understandable? Easy; because she’d never felt as comfortable with any man, not even Josh, as she did with Greg.
After all, he had seen her at her best and, more important, at her worst. They had shared many meals and late-night snacks over the years and probably knew more about each other than many couples who had been married for years. She admitted their first time as lovers had lacked a vital spark, but that could happen to anyone, couldn’t it? At the same time the question nagging her was, what if Greg was wrong? What if they weren’t meant to share a physical relationship?
“Are you sure you’re not saying all this just to get me into bed and have your way with me?” she asked archly.
Greg looked smug. “I wouldn’t have far to go right now.”
Jill felt the heat start at her toes and creep slowly up her body under Greg’s searching gaze. Instead of retreating under the covers, she found herself sitting up a bit straighter before realizing that all she had accomplished was to inadvertently pull her teddy’s neckline down until it uncovered most of her breasts. If she took too deep a breath, she’d be totally lost. She picked up her fork and concentrated on finishing her eggs. She tore a corner off one of the cinnamon rolls and popped it into her mouth. The rich taste of cinnamon and butter exploded in her taste buds.
“What, no comeback?” Greg asked lightly.
“I don’t want to bring on any indigestion,” she tossed back with a smile.
Having gotten his point across, Greg lifted up his coffee mug and stood. “I’ll let you finish your breakfast in peace. Since I gave you hell last night, I figured the least I could do is surprise you with breakfast in bed.” His storm-gray eyes sparkled wickedly. “I’m only sorry I couldn’t share it with you properly.” With a jaunty wave of the hand he sauntered out.
After Jill finished her meal she carried the tray back to the kitchen. The scene that greeted her was enough to ruin any meal.
A microwave pan filled with congealed bacon grease sat on the kitchen counter next to a frying pan covered with yellow and brown bits of dried egg. The butter dish now held half-melted butter, and the coffee maker filter dripped stains into the sink over an even dozen broken eggshells. A package of refrigerated cinnamon rolls were tossed to one end of the counter. Greg hadn’t been kidding.
Jill vowed she would get even with him after she finished cleaning up the disaster area facing her.
By the time she had cleaned up the kitchen, showered and dressed, her anger over Greg leaving the mess to her had abated a bit, but not enough.
She arrived downstairs prepared to info
rm Greg that she didn’t appreciate his leaving a kitchen resembling a major war zone only to find his office door closed and the faint click of computer keys reaching her ears. She reluctantly obeyed his unspoken request for privacy and settled down to her own work.
Three long hours later Jill was positive the crick in her neck was a permanent condition, but after viewing all the work she had accomplished, she wasn’t about to complain about a little discomfort. She polished the scenes she and Greg had discussed a few days before and began to run the printer for the two copies they would need to go over it again.
“Ah, the marvels of modern science.” She dropped an affectionate pat on the purring computer terminal.
Jill stood and stretched her arms over her head and rolled her shoulders before dropping her arms toward the floor with her back kept flat. She closed her eyes, willing each tense muscle to relax.
“That won’t work and you know it.” Arms slid around her waist and lifted her before a pair of hands descended on her shoulders, kneading the tense skin expertly.
“Mmm,” Jill crooned in bliss, feeling the tension flow out of her body under Greg’s touch. “Such wonderful hands you have, Grandma.”
“You really should get in the hot tub,” Greg suggested, halting his massage and pushing her blond curls aside to bestow a light kiss on her nape. His mouth lingered there a fraction of a second more. “That would do you even more good.”
Jill’s eyes flew open at the soft caress. It shouldn’t have sent a fluttery feeling to her stomach, as if the bottom had dropped out. After all, how many times had he kneaded her aching muscles and dropped a kiss on her head or shoulder afterward? How many times had he recommended she use the hot tub, not to mention the times they had shared it? This kiss was most definitely not the same, though, and only her feminine instinct would agree with her illogical argument.
“Sounds good to me.” There was a hollow ring to her reply. “I got all the polishing done and ran off two copies.” She gestured blindly to her desk.
Greg hid his smile of triumph. The lady was definitely capitulating. She just didn’t know it yet. “Meet you out back in ten minutes?”
Jill nodded. Deep down, she knew there was more than a relaxing hour in the hot, swirling water coming up. She just wondered if she was truly ready for it. If she didn’t want anything to happen, she would only have to tell him she would go upstairs and take a hot shower instead. She didn’t say another word.
The spa had been bought a year and a half ago to help Greg’s bad back. Jill had also found it useful after an exhausting dance class. So that it could be used all year round, it had been installed inside a greenhouse that jutted out the back of the house, where a large kitchen used to be. Tropical plants, stereo speakers and padded chaise lounges added to an relaxing atmosphere.
When Jill arrived in the glass-enclosed room, Greg was already there checking the water temperature.
“It’s just right,” he announced, not bothering to turn around.
“How did you know I was here?” Jill queried.
He straightened and turned around, flashing her a grin. “I have eyes in the back of my head.”
She affected a theatrical pout. “And here I thought it was something exotic, such as a tiny camera hidden behind your left ear.” She grasped the hem of her oversize t-shirt and pulled it up over her head.
Greg’s mouth went dry. “Whe-when did you get that?” he croaked, gesturing to the tiny scraps of turquoise-and-black-striped cotton fabric barely covering her vital areas.
“When I went to Hawaii last year.”
Greg stepped abruptly down into the water to hide what could prove to be a threatening embarrassment.
“Want something to drink?” Jill headed for the small refrigerator hidden in a corner of the room.
Greg thought of the bottle of champagne chilling in the interior. “You choose.” Jill’s squeal told him she’d found his surprise.
“Why, Mr. Richmond, you sly devil, are you trying to seduce me?” She danced over to the edge of the spa carrying the bottle and two plastic wineglasses. Jill manipulated the cork and poured a small amount into each glass. “We both know alcohol and spas don’t mix, so I figure our one glass per person will last longer if I only pour a little bit at a time,” she explained, handing him the glass and sliding down into the heated water. She rested her head against the edge and allowed the water jets to pound into her back. A lazy smile touched her lips as she watched Greg through half-closed eyes. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll spend the rest of the year here.”
“You’re out of luck. We’ve got a book to finish.”
“I’ll work from here.” She sipped her champagne, stretching her legs out across the width of the spa until her foot grazed something. Greg gave a savage oath as he jumped back. “Greg, I’m so sorry,” she gasped, coming to attention after realizing what she had done. She waded over to him, prepared to offer comfort. “Did I hurt you?”
He thrust his hands through his hair and laughed harshly. “I’m beginning to believe you have something against me.” He looked up at the ceiling as he spoke.
“Want me to kiss it better?”
Jill’s softly spoken question caught Greg’s attention with full force. His head whipped around to face her, seeing her limpid eyes, flushed cheeks and trembling lips.
“If I recall correctly, you said we could never work if we were having an affair,” he said roughly, unwilling to believe what he had heard and what he now saw.
She shook her head, unable to give him a reasonable answer. Jill only knew that she had ignored her inner feelings too long and now acted on impulse. She moved closer until she stood between his legs, feeling his rough skin caress her smooth limbs. Capturing his gaze, she reached behind her neck and untied the strings, letting them fall down over her breasts. The strings behind her back were next released. Two triangles of fabric drifted down to the swirling water, rapidly disappearing to the edge of the tub.
Greg swallowed in the hope of easing the sand coating his throat. No such luck. What he had seen that day in the dim light of his bedroom couldn’t compare with the beauty standing before him with the afternoon sun warming her bare skin. Her lightly tanned flesh seemed to grow under his ardent gaze. Without uttering a word he reached out and pulled her to him on the molded plastic bench. His mouth claimed hers with a hunger she eagerly reciprocated.
“You taste so sweet,” he muttered, bathing her lips with his moisture. “Jill, give yourself to me.”
“Kiss me,” she pleaded, kneeling in the water and clinging to him. Her lips fluttered over his chin and along his jaw.
“That and more.” His vow washed over her like a warm breeze. He curled an arm around her hips and drew her up to him. They whispered loving praise, nibbled, stroked and loved with their lips. Greg’s fingertips traced the delicate lines of her shoulders and skimmed down her sides, just barely grazing her breasts. When he reached her hips, he moved back up to the sensitive hollow of her throat.
“Greg,” Jill moaned, burying her face against his neck and nipping him none too gently in punishment.
“Oh, no.” He chuckled, now making a wide sweep of her back with his hands. “We’re not rushing our loving one bit. There’s not going to be any regrets this time. We’re going to experience something never beheld by the human race.”
She drew back slightly, searching his face for a sign that this wasn’t just an afternoon dalliance for him. She knew it wouldnât be a fleeting thing for her. She mapped out his upper chest with inquisitive fingertips, following those paths with her lips, tasting the faint tangy flavor of chlorine misting his skin.
Greg cupped her buttocks, pulling her up onto his lap. His arousal swelled under her hip. One hand slid under the elastic band of her bikini bottoms and stroked her satiny skin. He delved further, finding her moist and ready for him. With each probe of his fingers, Jill moaned against his skin.
“Does this tell you how much I want you?” he
whispered, pressing butterfly kisses over her eyes and down her nose to her mouth.
Jill parted her lips under his marauding tongue, but it wasn’t enough. She whimpered, rubbing her sensitive breasts against the crinkly hair covering his chest and pressing her mouth harder against his. The tip of her tongue dipped into his mouth to gather in his taste and warmth. Yet it still wasn’t enough. She pressed her hand against his chest, measuring the rapid beat against her own, and trailed her fingers down to his waist and below.
“Easy, sweetheart.” He caught hold of her earlobe with his teeth. “As I said, we’re taking our time if it kills us.”
“It just may destroy me,” she replied.
Greg slid his hands under the minuscule bikini briefs and pushed them downward. Once they floated free, he started to lift her up so he could see all of her.
“Greg, please.” The pained expression on her face alerted him to some sort of agony.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, wondering what could be troubling her.
She offered him a weak smile. “Iâwell, before I didn’t think about it because the room was dark, but now …” Her voice trailed off as she looked to one side.
Greg cupped her chin with one hand and gently turned her to face him. “Your face is flushed and you look ready to cry, but I’m not sure what brought it on,” he pressed.
Jill licked her lips. “My scar is so ugly,” she finally blurted. “I don’t want you to see it and become repulsed.”
Greg’s eyes softened to the misty gray of late morning fog. “And you thought that would put me off?” he chided. “Oh, Jill, your scar is part of you and certainly nothing ugly to me.” To prove his point he lifted her higher until her lower torso was level with his face and he saw the reddish scar slashing across the pearly skin. He glanced up to see her eyes closed tightly, fearing the worst. Wanting nothing more than to reassure her, he leaned forward, caressing the faint ridge with his mouth, then moved lower. He listened to her throaty moans as he loved her until her body shook with spasms of joy.â