by Dara Girard
He tapped the side of his head. “Do I look completely daft?” He motioned to the door. “Do you think I want to repeat what just happened? I may be wrong, but I’m pretty sure there aren’t too many men out there who enjoy the sight of their girlfriend racing out of their arms in terror.”
Michelle shook her head feeling miserable. “It’s not you. I wasn’t running from you. It’s…” That place, she thought. But she didn’t know how to express it. Her fears didn’t make any sense. She’d never had such a strong reaction to a place before. That was Teresa’s territory. Teresa was the sensitive one. Nothing usually shook or scared Michelle. But she’d sensed something in that place, something that seemed to take over him. Had her heart led her wrong? Had it all been a mistake? He’d twice wondered if he frightened her. Was there another side to him she hadn’t seen? Had he kept it hidden by not being intimate with her? She had to know the truth. She grabbed the front of his shirt and kissed him. And the moment their lips touched, a delicious, warm sensation filled her body. She deepened the kiss and he groaned low in his throat arousing her more.
He drew back. “No.”
She snaked an arm around his neck then softly stroked the back of his head. “But you want this.” She pressed her body against his, feeling how much he wanted it. “You want it so bad.”
“Don’t do this to me,” he said in a raw whisper. “Don’t run—”
She flicked her tongue against his lips. “Do I look scared?”
His large hands drew her body closer. “Maybe I should be,” he said before he covered her mouth with a passionate possession.
She moaned, her knees feeling weak, her hand sweeping his back wanting to feel his naked flesh beneath her fingers.
James moved his mouth to her neck, his voice warm when he spoke. “We can’t do this here.”
“I know. Stay at my place tonight.”
He hesitated.
She toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck. “You want to.”
James captured and held her gaze. Careful Michelle, your trick won’t work so easily the second time.
I won’t run.
You better hope not, he said, softly brushing his thumb over her lips.
I won’t.
His gaze lit with satisfaction. Good because this time, I won’t let you.
Chapter 25
Michelle changed out of her clothes at a speed she never thought possible. She heard James bumping around in the tiny bathroom as she scrambled to undress. He’d asked to use the toilet then disappeared in there the moment they’d reached her flat. She didn’t know what he was up to but at least he was there. Tonight was the night. He said he wasn’t gay, and from his kiss to the feel of his arousal she believed him, which was good. So that meant he truly was attracted to her, loved her, and wanted to spend his life with her.
Success!
If only she had sexy lingerie to celebrate. Unfortunately, she hadn’t prepared that far. She slipped on a blue camisole and matching pajama bottoms, jumped into bed, and slid under the covers. She took a deep breath. Everything would be okay now.
She closed her eyes when she heard the bathroom door open. Play it cool. Play it cool. He wanted this as much as she did; there was no need to be nervous. She felt the mattress shift as it accommodated his weight and she became aware of how narrow the bed was. Drats, it would be really embarrassing if she fell out. She also realized he was naked, feeling the power of his arousal through the fabric of her clothes. She felt his arm snake around her waist, then he said in a low whisper. “Are you chilly?”
“What? No.”
“Do you think I’m a magician then?”
She turned to him. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“You’re wearing pajamas.”
“I know that.”
“Are they…uh…a special kind?” His hand slid between her legs and stopped at her center.
Michelle gasped, shocked by the feel of his hand there. She shoved it away. “What are you doing?”
“I thought they’d be crotchless.”
Michelle’s voice cracked. “Why would they be crotchless?”
“How else do you expect me to be with you?”
She frowned. “You are with me.”
“Inside you,” he corrected.
“Oh…” Michelle said, drawing out the word as she came to an understanding.
James eyes gleamed with tender amusement. “First time?”
“No,” she lied.
He nodded. “Yeah, it’s not my first time either.”
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
James started to smile and she realized he was trying to catch her in a lie. She shimmed off her pajama bottoms, her cheeks burning. “I was a little chilly.”
“That’s what I thought.”
He shifted a little and the bed squeaked in protest. “This is going to be quite the balancing act.”
“I’ll just hold on to you.”
There was laughter in his voice when he spoke, “Yes, you do that.”
“Should we turn off the lights?” she wondered, looking around her shabby flat in dismay. It was clean and serviceable but far from elegant and definitely not romantic. She wouldn’t think of where he’d been with woman before. Likely in king sized beds with fine sheets and the scent of roses not coconut lotion and barbecue crisps.
“It’s up to you.”
“Right,” she said then realized she’d taken off her pajama bottoms and tossed them out of reach. So she’d be walking half-naked to the light switch giving him a complete view of her backside. She had a great figure, but she wasn’t that comfortable yet. “I’m fine.”
“Do you want me to stay where I am?”
“Sorry?”
He chuckled. “Where do you want me? Front, back, side?”
How would I know that? Why so many questions? I honestly don’t know what I’m doing! But she didn’t want to admit that. She was someone who took control. Who assessed a situation and knew the next move. She didn’t want to appear weak. Vulnerable. Wasn’t making love supposed to be easy?”
It’s okay. I won’t ask any more questions.
Michelle stared at James horrified. He’d heard what she’d said? She narrowed her eyes. You said you couldn’t read thoughts.
He lifted his brows. I can’t. You told me.
I didn’t tell you anything!
You said it out loud.
I didn’t. But she might have let her guard down and told him instead of just thinking it. She’d have to learn to be extra careful with him in the future.
Let’s argue later. James threw one bare leg over her thigh, pressing the length of his body on top of hers before she felt the heat of his mouth. With his leg, he pried her legs apart, but he didn’t enter her right away. There was a teasing, playful rhythm between them—him, like waves crawling up a sandbank and withdrawing again and her, the ocean, wet, dark and willing. Then he was inside her and she felt a rush. A fiery possession as their bodies connected in exquisite harmony. Then she felt as if a gush of wind had burst through the window and threatened to sweep them away, and she held on tight trying not to be overwhelmed by the sensations swirling around her. The room disappeared and all that was left was space and sky. And him. An all encompassing force.
I won’t be able to stop. That’s what he’d warned her. And now she knew what he meant. That this unleashed power swirling around them was him—his talent was taking them beyond space and time to pure energy. Potent energy that threatened to consume her, but she wasn’t afraid because her body had been designed for it. With every fiery touch of his mouth, of his hand, of his chest, her body cooled it into submission. He was not too much for her. He was perfect. No ordinary man could incite such sweet pleasure.
To her, this was ecstasy—the feel of his large hand sweeping across her stomach, the sweet taste of his tongue inside her mouth, the hard, sleek caress of his body.
His body. James groaned deep in his throat
as Michelle’s cool fingers splayed across his back as she tightened around him, inviting him deep into the sacred space between her thighs. A healing space. With her he was a man once more not a…no he wouldn’t think about that now. That was in the past. He had a future now. He had found her. He had found his equal: The one who could keep him from going over the edge and sinking into the darkness below.
He surrendered to his need for her and she surrendered to a need she never knew she had. A bond she knew she could never break. Their souls took hold of each other, intertwined—forever.
Chapter 26
James Winfield// 08:35
She said yes.
Martha Winfield// 08:35
Have you told her everything?
James Winfield// 08:35
I’ll need your help.
Martha Winfield// 08:35
It’s a risk.
James Winfield// 08:35
I know. Will you help?
James Winfield// 08:37
I’ll live with the consequences.
James Winfield// 08:38
I’m going to marry her.
James Winfield// 08:42
Please help me.
James Winfield// 08:45
Please Gran. She’s leaving tomorrow.
Martha Winfield// 08:55
Okay.
Martha shook her head and set down her phone with a sigh. She looked out the window of her bedroom alcove.
“What’s the sigh for?” Hildie asked, picking up the breakfast tray. There was still a slice of toast and three slices of cut orange left. Martha knew they’d disappear before the tray reached the kitchen. Hildie hated to waste food.
“James wants to get married. He’s asked for my help.”
Hildie set the tray down with a clatter. “You let it go too far.”
“I’m going to help him.” She held up her hand before Hildie could argue. “He pleaded with me. He said ‘please’ twice.”
And her grandson didn’t ask for much. There had been so many—too many—times that he’d asked for her help—when he was four, six, ten, fifteen, twenty—and she’d been unable to do anything. “Please make the pain stop,” he’d cried more than once, tears streaming down his face as he lay in a hospital bed. “Please make me better Gran.” “Please make the doctors go away. I’ll be good. Please. Please. Please.”
And then there had been the times when she could have helped him but had refused. “Please let me ride with you. Please let me sail with you. Please let me live with you.”
But that had been a foolish request. A child was meant to stay with his mother. No matter how smothering at times that person could be. But now he wanted freedom. He wanted to finally be his own man and he’d found the right woman. She would give him his wish and hoped they both didn’t regret it.
Michelle found herself somewhere over the Atlantic thinking about James. She remembered the tearful goodbye she’d had with Tansy, promising to keep in touch, and the big, awkward hug from Cory, who had repeated his offer of employment. But it was James who filled her thoughts. She remembered their parting at Heathrow.
“I’ll join you in a day or two,” he said, keeping his distance from her. “I have to take care of a few things here. Then we’ll get married.”
“But your family—”
“My grandmother knows and that’s all that matters. The rest of my family won’t understand so they can’t know about us. Not until after.”
“Are you sure—?”
“It’s the only way we can be happy. Trust me. This is the best way we can be together.”
He kissed her on the forehead then briefly—wonderfully—he smiled at her and the airport fell away and they stood yards apart on a dusty road on a Caribbean island and he was in uniform and she felt as if she were sending him away.
Don’t worry. I’ll come back. I love you.
I love you too.
And the solider, who was him but not him, embraced her erasing all her fears. But now, high above the clouds, she wondered about his urgency, his secrecy and whether they would ever be together again.
Shit! The little weasel had slipped through his fingers and now Joanna would give him hell. Graham stared at James’s bed that hadn’t been slept in. He opened the closet and expected to see empty hangers, instead it looked the same as always. The same as James’s private London flat when he’d visited. Graham hadn’t suspected a thing. But he should have paid more attention. James’s behavior had become too routine. His time with the Clifton girl had appeared to be a banal diversion. Graham had followed them four times (without James knowing) until he realized there was nothing really interesting between them. Boring actually. They didn’t even look like a couple. No pub-hopping, no club visits. He actually felt sorry for the plain girl. Seemed she was so desperate for attention that she’d take anything.
Even a weakling like James. A man who only kissed her on the cheek, maybe once on the forehead. Briefly, Graham wondered if James had ever been intimate with a woman before. But he knew he had since he’d provided him with an escort when James was nineteen. Every guy needed to get his experience somehow, right? And James was curious.
And this was how the kid repaid him? By lying. James had come back at the regular time, but clearly hadn’t been staying there. For the past couple of weeks James had been feeding him false intel and he’d fallen for it. James hadn’t trusted him as much as he’d thought. Smart kid.
Damn.
Graham turned when he heard the buzz of the front door. He half hoped it would be the police—what the hell were they called over here, bobbies or something?—telling them that James had been in an accident. It had happened before. But when he left James’s room he didn’t hear any unfamiliar voices or sense anything was wrong.
“Where is he?” Joanna demanded, when Graham returned to the dining room where he’d been eating breakfast before they noticed James was missing. He entered the room and saw that Martha and her companion Hildie had joined her; all three were sitting at the table, which was rare for a weekday morning. Martha preferred breakfast alone. “Is he sick?”
Graham pulled out his chair and sat. “He’s not sick.”
“But he’s always on time for breakfast.”
Graham sighed. He was going to need a big whiskey tonight. “He’s not here.”
Joanna pushed back her chair, alarmed. “What do you mean?”
“There’s no need to be upset,” Martha said. “He’s the reason why I’m here. He needed some time away and I gave it to him.”
“Time away from what?”
“You mean who,” Hildie said.
Martha sent her a significant look then quietly said to Joanna, “He needs space.”
“From me?”
“From a lot of things.”
“And you let him leave without telling me?”
“He’s a grown man.”
“He’s my son and I have a right to know what he’s up to. Anything could happen!”
“Nothing will happen.”
Joanna turned to Graham. “Who was that girl he was seeing? You must find her and—”
“She’s already returned home,” he said. “Alone. I saw them at the airport. He kissed her on the forehead like she was his sister. He didn’t get on the plane.”
“James is not the type to run off with a woman,” Martha said.
“But the ring she wore…”
Martha slowly blinked. “She wore a special ring?”
“Yes,” Joanna said, rubbing the back of her hand. “She had an emerald…and James pretended to know her—” She paused. “I’m probably making too much of it.”
“There was a young girl he’d once corresponded with. They’d both been in the hospital at the same time, don’t you remember?”
“No.”
“Well,” Martha said. “He told me they were good friends and he will miss her. He liked her but she didn’t return his feelings. The breakup was painful.”
Joanna l
ooked relieved then fixed her expression to look sad. “My poor baby. I shouldn’t have let him get serious about anyone.”
“He’s young. He’ll recover, but he needs space right now. I loaned him to one of your brothers—”
“Which one?”
“For a couple of months,” Martha continued, making it clear she didn’t plan on being specific. “I think work will keep him properly occupied.”
“I hope he doesn’t overwork himself.”
Martha nodded. “I’m sure when you see him again, he’ll be a new man.”
Chapter 27
Off the radar. James knew that wouldn’t last forever, but it didn’t matter. He’d won. She was his. No one could stop them now.
“Smile for the camera!”
James turned to his new father-in-law, who was motioning to them as he stood at the bottom of the Randall County courthouse steps. The day was bright and humid, as could be the case for Maryland in the summer, people rushed from the building to their cars to escape the heat.
Michelle sighed. “Dad, you’ve taken enough pictures.”
Her youngest sister, Jessie, tugged on her dress and frowned. “This itches.”
“Stay still,” her mother scolded before she turned to Michelle and said, “You decide to rush this wedding. Let your father try to catch the moment.”
“It’s my fault,” James said with regret.
Her mother smiled at him as if he’d offered her a trip around the world. “No, we are happy to welcome you to the family.”
Michelle’s middle sister Teresa beamed. “I knew this day would happen. I knew it. I knew it. I knew it.” While Jessie continued to tug on her dress and mumbled, “Did you really have to invite the Prestons to the reception?”
“Say cheese!” her father said.
Michelle turned to James looking a little embarrassed. “I’m sorry about all this.”
James looked at Teresa, Jessie, and Mr. and Mrs. Clifton with affection. He’d only known them a few days but already felt like family. “Don’t be. This is everything I’d ever hoped for.” He turned to the camera and smiled.