Nothing to Hide

by Isabel Sharpe

  She liked her own century very much, thanks, with progress on women’s issues and advances in health care, but she’d love to have experienced the exuberance of the 1920s. Especially as someone with Josephine’s money, class and confidence. This woman could meet the queen of England and not have a thing to hide.

  Turning away from the mirror, Allie scooped up the ice bucket and glasses and headed for the door, her steps firm, her mind clear and directed, channeling Josephine’s quest to seduce Walter. Except Allie wasn’t after marriage. Someday she’d find a man who had worked as hard as she had to build a successful life, who understood where she’d been and why it was so important to her to get out. Together, they’d build a true partnership. On this quest, however, she was quite happy to settle for Jonas’s superb body.

  Passing the kitchen as quietly as possible, she overheard Erik and Sandra having what sounded like an earnest discussion. Out in the fading light, she walked the straight line to the cottage leisurely and purposefully. At the door, she knocked and took a step back, calm smile in place.

  Where had she gotten this much sangfroid? This much courage? She’d spent most of her adult life pretending she was more refined than she was, but never to this degree. Plus, she was about to seduce a man she barely knew—a calm, conscious decision, made in hot blood. Allie had never come close to doing something like this. Maybe the clothes had turned her into a new woman?

  Never mind. She had the courage, and she was loving every second of it. That was all she needed to know.

  “Hey, the party’s arrived.” Jonas’s surprise gave way to a thorough inspection and a slow, appreciative grin. “Wow. Look at you. You’re beautiful. It’s as if that outfit was made for you.”

  “Thank you.” She held his gaze, a cool smile in place, though her cheeks were warming with pleasure at his compliment. He must have just showered. Damp, dark hair curled around his face, his blue eyes vivid against skin warmed by the sun. Around his mouth and on his cheeks, the barest hint of beard showed he’d shaved for their after-dinner date. He wore loose, comfortable shorts and an unbuttoned blue-and-white patterned shirt through which his very nice chest showed.

  “Guess I’m underdressed.” He backed into the cottage, buttoning his shirt. She thought about stopping him, but decided it would be more fun to unbutton it herself again later. “Come on in. I was about to pull out beer for us, but for some strange reason I’m now thinking champagne...”

  “Me, too. Same strange reason I bet.” She let him take the bucket. “Can we sit out on the deck?”

  “Absolutely, Ms. McDonald. It’s a beautiful night. Though there’s not much room out there for the Charleston.” He led the way through the sliding door out onto the deck and set the bucket on the table. Perfect. They had a fabulous view of the lake, but Sandra and Erik couldn’t see them from the house unless they came down to the beach, which was unlikely.

  Jonas removed the bottle from its ice bedding and began twisting off the cage, staring at her the whole time. “Is it okay if I can’t take my eyes off you?”

  “I think it’s fine.” She made a slow turn to show off the dress. When she came around again, Jonas was still holding the bottle, having made no progress opening it.

  Oh, this was going to be fun.

  “Need help with the cork?” she asked sweetly.

  “Uh, no.” He busied himself again. “But men’s brains can only handle one thing at a time. Where are Erik and Sandra?”

  “Talking in the kitchen. Sounded pretty intense.”

  His left eyebrow rose. “I have a feeling they’ll be busy for quite a while.”

  “I have that same feeling.” She watched him for signs of emotion, but he seemed calm about Sandra pairing off with his brother.

  Good thing.

  The cork came out with a soft pop, followed by a wisp of mist that looked like smoke. Jonas expertly poured the foaming gold into the glasses and handed her one. “Here’s to a beautiful night with a beautiful woman who has apparently time-traveled to be with me.”

  “She has.” Allie sipped the cool, bubbly heaven, and sat gracefully in the chair he held out for her. “Your great-grandmother was quite the woman.”

  “That’s what Grandma Bridget always told us. What made you think so?”

  “Diaries. A pile of them.” Allie crossed her feet demurely at the ankles and sipped her champagne, which was so much better than the stuff she bought that she was retroactively embarrassed. “She kept one her whole life. Did you know?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “You and Erik should take a look. I hope it’s okay that I’ve been reading them.”

  “Sure.” He was watching her with a glint of warm amusement in his eyes. “What are you finding out about her?”

  “She was a very smart woman. Very practical. Strong.” She sent Jonas a coy look from under her hat brim. “Very sexual.”

  “Really.” He looked pained. “Do I want to know this about a relative?”

  “She was quite the se-duc-tress.” Allie enunciated carefully, forming her lips and tongue around the word, giving it sensual weight.

  The pained look dissipated; his gaze intensified. “Was she?”

  “I learned quite a bit.”

  “Tell me.” His voice turned husky.

  “For example.” She took off the cloche, shook out her hair leisurely, enjoying the cool breeze on her scalp. “It’s a good idea to make a man want you until he can’t think of anything else.”

  Jonas didn’t move. His eyes were trying to hold her prisoner.

  “After that.” Allie blinked to break his power, saying a short prayer that she could pull this off as beautifully as she’d bet Josephine had. “You offer yourself, but only so far.”

  “Because...”

  “The big prize waits until you’re sure you have him.” She slowly pulled down the zipper in the side of the dress. “Until you get what you want.”

  He swallowed, his eyes following her movements. “What did she want?”

  “Marriage.” Allie stood, took hold of the hem of the dress and pulled it up and over her head, matter-of-factly turning it back right-side out and draping it carefully over the back of her chair. Then she sat again, leaning back, crossing her legs, and picked up her champagne again. “But I’m just after tonight.”

  He was devouring her with his eyes, the swell of her breasts under the camisole, the length of her thigh emerging from the pink silk. “I can do that.”

  She suppressed a laugh at his eagerness, tipped up her face, eyes closed, and let her hair stream back in the sudden breeze, enjoying the anticipation, her power, his desire, sending a thank-you up to Josephine who she hoped was watching, cheering her on.

  Then she opened her eyes and smiled in pure happiness at the look on Jonas’s face. What woman didn’t want a crazy-hot man going brain-dead with lust over her?

  His gaze darkened suspiciously. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  “Of course.” Allie feigned surprise. “Aren’t you?”

  “Nope.” He shook his head, glancing down at his erection, clearly and impressively visible in his shorts. “I’m in agony.”

  “Good things come to those who wait.” Her slight emphasis on “come” wasn’t wasted on him.

  “You’re a good thing. I’m waiting.” He pushed his chair back from the table, and spread his arms. “Come to me.”

  Allie considered him gravely, then stood and walked to the railing, gazing out at the lake. “I’m not sure I’m ready to come yet.”

  “Cruel woman.”

  “You must be strong.” She leaned forward so her backside presented itself provocatively. He groaned. Allie had to hide a giggle. “Lovely view, don’t you think?”

  “You have no idea.”

  She peeked at him over her shoulder, shifting her hips to one side. “Poor, poor man.”

  “This is very hard, Allie.”

  “I can see that.” She straightened and strolled toward him, f
orcing her breath to stay even. Her body wasn’t any more immune to this game than his. Well, maybe a little—he was a guy, after all. “Maybe I can help you.”

  “Please. Yes, please.”

  Allie stopped between his parted knees. His hands gripped her bare waist; he looked up at her with a combination of amusement and pleading. Of course he could take control of this situation any time he wanted to, having the physical advantage. But he seemed willing to play along, at least for now.

  Slowly, she lifted one thigh outside of his, then the other, sinking down, inch by tantalizing inch, until she felt the hard bulge of his erection touch, then press, against the soft silk between her legs.

  His breath exploded out. Allie managed to control her reaction, but only barely. He felt so, so good.

  Slowly. Don’t give it all away.

  “Better?” She braced her hands against his hard chest.

  He grunted, moving his hands around to clasp her buttocks. “Depends on how you define better.”

  “Less pain?”

  “More.” He pushed his hips up. “Much more.”

  “Oh, dear.” Allie moved her hands to his shoulders and leaned forward to look him in the eyes. “Is it the feel of me against your cock that is causing you this pain?”

  “Yes.” He spoke tightly, eyes roaming her face, landing briefly on her mouth, and then rushing down to take in her nipples pushing out the pink silk. His hands gripped her harder.

  “Would you rather be inside me? With me hot and wet around you? Holding you tight?” Her breathless whisper was an inch from his mouth. “Is that what you want?”

  “Yes.” His eyes closed; he was fighting for control. “Yes.”

  “I don’t know, Jonas. I hardly know you.” She closed the last inch between them, brushed her mouth across his bottom lip, then back along the top. “Let’s start here.”

  His lips were soft, responsive, warm. She closed her eyes to concentrate on their shape, their taste, the change between the moist curves of his mouth and the smooth skin of his cheeks and chin, delicious contact that shot shivers through her body.

  He let her keep leading the pace and their movements. Jonas Meyer, who would recoil in horror if he saw the closet she slept in as a child, the neighborhood she grew up in. This man, who had all the power associated with his wealth, breeding and connections, was leaving little Brooklyn Allie in control.

  Very gradually, she started to rock back and forth over the thin fabric of his shorts, continuing to explore his mouth, without kissing him full-on or deeply. Always hold something back.

  Jonas inhaled through his teeth, gripped her hips and helped her along. Allie let her head drop back, riding him, eyes still closed, taking her pleasure from rubbing her clitoris against his hard length through the soft, slippery silk, bringing her close to coming in only a few minutes.

  “Allie.” He bent forward and murmured against her throat. “You’re making me crazy.”

  You’re making me crazy, too.

  She had to work harder and harder to appear calm. Her breath caught in little gasps and her thighs began to tremble. She was going to come before he did. Not the plan. Not what was supposed to—

  To hell with the plan.

  Her orgasm came on slowly, gaining intensity. She gasped openly now, caught up in the intense pleasure, no longer caring if she appeared desperate, rubbing herself back and forth over his erection until her body gathered itself powerfully and she gave in to the rush, suspended in ecstasy that made her bite back a cry, opening her eyes wide, vaginal muscles contracting over and over, pleasure still pulsing intensely.

  Jonas let out a curse, pushed against her once, twice, and then gave a low shout. She watched him coming, his eyes closed, mouth half-open in ecstasy, muscles straining.

  Then he opened those startlingly blue eyes and they stared at each other in awe for several seconds, breathing hard. Just as she was mortified to find herself about to giggle, he started laughing, too, and the atmosphere became as relaxed and innocently giddy as it had been intensely sexual seconds before.

  “Look what you did to me.” He gestured down at his stained shorts, still grinning. “I haven’t come in my pants since I was a teenager. It’s embarrassing.”

  “No, no, it’s not at all. It’s completely fine.” She lifted herself off him, her legs unsteady, and stood, unable to stop beaming. Mission accomplished. The seduction had been perfect. She’d never felt so on top of the world in her life. “No apologies.”

  “Allie.” He caught her hand, chuckled again. “That was incredible. In our culture, with all the sex around us, we’ve lost the art and sexiness of subtlety. Thank you for that.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She smiled down at him. Around them the sky was darkening, the breeze subsiding to an occasional caress. “I did, too.”

  Jonas’s wide smile faded. He stood, leaned down and touched his lips to hers, then kissed her lingeringly, putting his hand to the side of her face as if she were something precious. “I’ll be right back.”

  Allie stepped back, nodding. Her throat had gone thick; she wasn’t sure she’d be able to speak. Turning, she grasped the deck railing and stared out at the lake, deep navy in the twilight, and told herself to get a grip, not to ruin a pure sexual encounter with any silly mooning. She’d just accept the emotion for what it was—inappropriate romanticism—and quietly put it away.

  The temperature had dropped some, but not enough to explain her sudden need to cover up again. She pulled the dress back over her head, feeling warmer, yes, but also safer, once more cool and confident. When Jonas came back out in clean shorts, carrying two blankets, she was even able to smile brightly.

  “You sleeping under the stars tonight?”

  “Want to join me?”

  Sleeping in his arms all night out on the beach? She’d wake up stiff, cold and even more infatuated. “I don’t think so, but thanks.”

  He nodded as if he’d been expecting her refusal. “Don’t want to give away the farm?”

  She laughed, relieved and touched by his easy acceptance. “That’s what Josephine would say.”

  “Would you like to lie on the beach for just a while to watch the stars that we won’t be sleeping under?”

  “I’d love that.”

  “Good.” He handed her a T-shirt and a pair of shorts. “I brought these if you’d like to rejoin our not-so-stylish but machine-washable century.”

  “I think that’s a good idea.” She took the clothes from him. “I’ll change in the house.”

  Immediately, she felt like an idiot. They’d just gone crazy on each other, and she was modest now?

  “No, no, stay here. I’ll take the blankets down to the beach. I promise, no peeking.” He hoisted the blankets and stepped off the deck. “Maybe.”

  Allie laughed. “I’ll bring the champagne with me.”

  “Excellent idea.” He walked down toward the water, then whipped his head around as if hoping to catch her undressed.

  “Hey! Eyes forward, soldier!”

  She undressed and dressed quickly, watching him not because she was worried he’d peek again, but because his broad shoulders and most stunning butt were so appealing, and the way his tall body moved gracefully across the sand was a real pleasure.

  When she arrived at the water’s edge with the champagne and glasses, naked under the T-shirt and drawstring shorts, which were threatening to fall at any second, Jonas had already spread the blanket and was lying comfortably on it, hands clasped behind his head.

  “Champagne service! This hotel has everything.”

  “Yes sir.” She nodded somberly, thinking these roles were more suited to who they really were. “I hope you have been pleased with my service and will remember my twelve children and unemployed drunk husband.”

  “Tough break. You poor thing.” He patted the blanket next to him. “Maybe I can make it all better.”

  “Thank you, sir.” She nestled the bucket in the sand and poured them
each a new glass, then crawled onto the blanket next to him.

  “Here’s to tonight’s most wonderful activities.” In the last rays of evening light, his eyes were tender and warm. After a few seconds, Allie looked away as if the lake were a preferable view, afraid he’d see too much.

  She couldn’t imagine a preferable view.

  “So, I have a manipulative great-grandmother, huh?” He leaned back on one hand, glass in the other, a perfect combination of virility and elegance. The guy had it all.

  “Josephine knew what she wanted, and how to get it. Apparently there was a guy named Walter she’d decided to marry.”

  “She did.”

  “Really!” Allie was delighted. “I didn’t get that far. Good for her.”

  “They had the five children.”

  “How did this property come down to you and Erik if there are that many relatives running around?”

  “It’s sad, actually. Two of mom’s great-aunts and -uncles—Josephine’s children—died, one in childhood, the other before marriage, so no kids there. One moved abroad and settled, and I think the other just wasn’t interested. So it was just Grandma Bridget who hung on to Morningside. Mom was her only child.”

  “Wow. There’s a lot of family history here. I don’t see how you can chuck it.”

  “It won’t be easy.” He drained his glass, lay down and put a hand on her back. “Join me?”

  “Sure.” She dug her glass into the sand and lay down next to him, their hips, thighs and shoulders touching. He covered them with the second blanket.

  “Not many stars out yet. We’ll have to stay a while.”

  Allie grinned in the gathering darkness. “I guess so.”

  “Good, because there’s a lot I want to know about you.”

  She stiffened. “Such as...”

  “Erik said you grew up in Brooklyn.”

  “Yes.” She felt the usual shame creep into her body. Talking about her childhood was an exercise in revisiting pain. So many people stuffed into such a small place, filthy and roach-ridden. The yelling. The drinking. Her father leaving for his rich girlfriend. Her brothers’ subsequent anger and wild rebellion. Her mother’s decline. The enormous responsibility Allie felt for keeping the family peaceful and afloat. The enormous determination she had to escape that life and never look back.