Impossible to Resist

by Janice Maynard

  His head lowered, his arms bracketing her shoulders, hands braced on the car. With lips hovering over hers, he whispered, “No fooling, princess. I’m dead serious.”

  Over his shoulder, she saw a million stars begin to cartwheel drunkenly. Her senses were enhanced by the notion that she and Jacob stood not only at the apex of the island, but also at a precipice in their relationship.

  Faint music drifted from the restaurant. As she flattened her hands behind her, resting them on the cold metal of the SUV, his scent teased her nostrils, a mix of hot male flesh and expensive aftershave.

  Slowly, his mouth settled against hers. She tasted the coconut dessert they had shared. Jacob had banked his hunger in the interim since their earlier embrace, this time giving her exquisite tenderness.

  “Oh, Jacob,” she sighed. “Please don’t tease me unless you mean business.”

  His laugh was a physical caress as he abandoned her lips and nibbled his way down her neck. “I was thinking more of pleasure.”

  The way he said the word pleasure took the starch out of her knees. “Not that I’m complaining about your technique,” she muttered, “but I think a little more privacy might be in order.”

  He rested his forehead against hers. “You sure we can’t just climb in the backseat?”

  She cupped his face in her hands. “I like it when you forget to be all buttoned up.”

  His entire body tensed, and she cursed her stupidly impulsive words. When would she learn to censor her speech?

  “We need to talk,” he said quietly, pulling away, leaving her cold and bereft. “There are things you should know. Get in the car.”

  The mood changed so rapidly, she suffered mental whiplash. His chameleon-like shift from passionate lover to brooding loner scared her. “I’m all in favor of less talk and more action,” she said, slamming the door and leaning into the comfy leather seat.

  Her attempt at levity failed miserably. Jacob put the car in gear, his profile somber. “Do you mind if we take a drive?”

  “Of course not.”

  Conversation languished after that. Jacob drove the way he did everything else, with calm competence. Despite the winding road and the black of night, she felt safe with him.

  When her patience was about at an end, he turned off onto a sandy lane that led to the ocean. Much like the cove where they had done most of the shooting for the film, this section of beach was protected on both sides by arms of land that jutted out into the sea. But the area was much smaller, and there were no hotels in sight.

  Jacob steered to a halt beneath a large coconut palm and shut off the engine. Without speaking, he got out and went to the back of the car. She heard him rustling about, and when he came around to open her door, he held a heavy cotton blanket in his hand.

  “C’mon,” he said. “Let’s walk.” While she was still seated, he lifted her feet one at a time and removed her shoes, tucking them in the pocket of his jacket. Then he eased her down to stand beside him and kissed her. A restrained kiss that promised something wonderful. When they broke apart, she rested her forehead against his chest for a moment, her legs weak.

  The sand was warm beneath her bare feet, still hoarding the heat of the sun. The tide had reached its highest point and was beginning to slowly recede. Jacob steered their route with purpose, helping her clamber up and over the loose stones at one end of the cove. There in front of them lay another pristine beach, this one tiny and inaccessible by road.

  “This will do,” he said, spreading the blanket just above the damp demarcation that delineated the high water mark. “Have a seat, princess.”

  Hearing the nickname eased the tightness in her chest. Jacob Wolff was an intimidating man, not physically scary, but so hard to read that she often felt as if she were tiptoeing on eggshells in his presence.

  They sat side by side. Jacob leaned back on his hands, his long legs stretched out in front of him. Ariel pulled her knees to her chest and clasped her arms around them, shivering slightly. Jacob noticed, of course, and removed his linen jacket, wrapping it protectively around her shoulders.

  “Thank you.”

  He didn’t acknowledge her quiet words. The lines of his face were austere. How could she ever really know him?

  Timidly, she put her hand on his arm. “What do you want to talk about?”

  He half turned, his slight smile self-mocking. “Here I am, on a secluded beach in the tropics with America’s sweetheart. How did this happen?”

  She shrugged. “I bludgeoned you into it. And I apologize for that, by the way. I haven’t been sick at all. You could have stayed on Wolff Mountain with your beakers and your Bunsen burners.”

  That coaxed a chuckle from him. “Did you ever actually take a science class in high school?” he asked.

  “I tried biology, but I couldn’t bring myself to touch dead animals. So I transferred into anatomy. The first day I showed up, they were studying the reproductive system. I made some wisecrack about the birds and the bees and got kicked out.”

  “What then?”

  “Rocks. Geology. And I was good at memorization, so chemistry worked, too. I can still recite the periodic table. You wanna hear it?”

  Jacob held up a hand. “I’ll pass.” He sighed, his expression troubled. “I don’t want there to be secrets between us,” he said. “If we become lovers, you deserve my honesty, at the very least.”

  “Please don’t tell me the castle has a dungeon full of dead bodies.”

  He covered her mouth with his hand. “Shh. Don’t be afraid. It’s nothing too terrible.”

  She wriggled away, turning to face him, her legs curled beneath her. “Start talking.”

  He eased down onto his back, hands tucked behind his head, eyes trained on the heavens. “I was a prisoner growing up. After my mother and my aunt died, my dad and my uncle hid us all away from the world. I had a plethora of tutors, did my first long-distance, university-level coursework before I grew facial hair. One day I looked in the mirror and realized that I was eighteen years old and had never been on a date.”

  She was silent, afraid to interrupt his monologue. It was difficult to reconcile the picture he was painting with the vital, masculine man who lay beside her.

  He went on. “The only way we could persuade our fathers to allow us to go to college was to assume aliases. Dad and Uncle Vincent were afraid, even then, that we would be kidnapping targets.”

  “Did your friends know the truth?”

  “No one knew. I mostly stayed to myself as a freshman. Even though I was a typical horny adolescent, the girls I met were so damned silly I couldn’t bring myself to overlook their giggly behavior long enough to get laid.”

  “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. I’m betting you were born serious.”

  He ignored her jibe. “Then I met Diane.”

  Her stomach plunged. “Diane?”

  “The intern I told you about. The one who died. She was my fiancée. She was at university on a full scholarship, pre-med, the same as me. We hit it off immediately. Pretty soon, we were deeply involved, but even having sex all hours of the day and night, we were focused on our goals. We decided we would do everything we could to get accepted into the same med school. And it worked. By that time we had been together long enough to know that what we felt for each other was the real deal. I proposed to her and gave her a ring. She and her mother began planning a wedding for the month after graduation.”

  Ariel didn’t want to hear any more, but the silent Jacob Wolff had opened up and now the words spilled from him in a torrent of remembered grief. She gripped her knees and dropped her head, not wanting to see the anguish on his face.

  “When she died,” he said slowly, “I lost my mind for a time. If I’d had a normal childhood and adolescence, I might have had the tools to cope. But I felt as if everything had been stolen from me. First my mother, then my best friend, and now Diane. Practicing medicine was the only thing that kept me going. Though even that was a mechanical
exercise for a long while.”

  “How long ago did she die?”

  “Five years, three months and twenty-six days. I agreed to help you, because I never want to feel that helpless again. I needed to know that I could make a difference in your life, even if I had failed Diane.”

  Her chest hurt. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Diane was my first and last love,” he said. He turned on his side abruptly, head propped on his hand. “My first and last lover.” His eyes were dark, unreadable. “I don’t have it in me to relate to a woman that way ever again. So I’ve chosen to be celibate. I took an oath to do no harm. Breaking a woman’s heart falls into that category.”

  “You think if we have sex I’ll fall in love with you?”

  “I hope not. I’m asking you not to take that chance. If I sound arrogant, I apologize. I know you have a great deal of experience, so I suppose it’s conceivable that I’ll be the one taking the risk.”

  There was a good chance that Jacob was still in love with his dead fiancée. And that would explain why he had been so vehement about not making love to Ariel. But even so, she wanted him. And she would take what little he was able to give her, even if it was only a sliver of his heart. Maybe, just maybe, she could seduce him into falling in love with her.

  With her pulse pounding, she uncurled her body and eased down beside him. “I stand forewarned. Kiss me, Jacob Wolff.”

  Their faces were mere inches apart. When he didn’t move, she closed the gap. “You’re a handsome, strong, sexy man. I’m willing to take what you have to offer. Fair enough?”

  The groan that ripped from his chest was tormented and raw. He rolled on top of her, his thigh wedging her legs apart. Her skirt bunched between them. The layers of fabric rustled against his pants legs.

  “I care about you, Ariel.”

  The words hurt. Damn him for his integrity. Doggedly, she shoved them aside. “Then show me.”

  He fumbled with one strap of her dress, long fingers tearing it loose in his impatience. “I love your breasts.” Without warning, he dragged the tight bodice down past her bosom, shoving her flesh toward his eager mouth.

  She cried out, stunned at how quickly things were moving. In her head, this beach encounter was destined to be measured and slow. The reality was far different. He rolled her to one side to reach the zipper. Cool air wafted down her spine.

  Lifting her like a doll, he dispensed with the dress, leaving her clad in nothing but a thong panty. She clasped her arms over her chest. “Stop, Jacob. I want to see you, too.”

  He froze, like a wild animal scenting danger. When she had the temerity to yank at his shirt, he shrugged out of it and sat up to drag it over his head. In a fumble of arms and legs and muttered apologies, they managed to strip him.

  The sight of her naked Wolff was at once breathtaking and terrifying. He was beautiful in the way of classic statuary, hard-chested, broad-shouldered, sleekly muscled. Ariel’s confidence waned in direct proportion to the size of Jacob’s fully aroused shaft.

  Did a man who hadn’t had sex in five years have it in him to be gentle?

  He reached out both of his hands and cupped her breasts, bouncing them lightly. The thin, watery moonlight bathed them in an ethereal glow. But Jacob was no mirage.

  They were kneeling, facing each other. The soft breeze cooled the perspiration on the back of her neck. When he pinched her nipples, ever so gently, dual jolts of fire streaked toward her pelvis. Anyone could conceivably have stumbled upon them, but the feeling of isolation calmed her nerves.

  He smoothed the hair from her face, his lips curved in a tender smile. “You look like a mermaid,” he said. “It’s hard to believe you’re real.”

  For one bleak instant, memories of the poor, doomed Diane threatened to intrude, but Ariel pushed them away. Jacob was here. With Ariel. That was all that mattered.

  Feeling both foolishly timid and shiveringly brave, she cupped his erection in both hands, stroking lightly up and down. The result was electric. Jacob’s head fell backward, his hands fisting at his hips. His entire body went rigid, as though being tortured on a rack.

  “Ariel…”

  The word was broken, aching, pleading.

  She used one hand to keep up the gentle rhythm on his shaft. With the other, she gathered his warm sac into her curled fingers. Crooning his name, she loved him with her caress.

  He cried out suddenly. She felt moisture dribble over her hands as he came violently, doubling over, his forehead on her shoulder. “Ariel. Oh, God, Ariel.” He was hoarse.

  Not knowing exactly what to do, she wrapped her arms around him and leaned into his embrace.

  To see such a powerful and masculine man shaking—at her mercy—troubled her. Would he be angry with her in the cold light of day? Would he resent her for destroying his control?

  Her body ached for his possession, but she no longer wanted to take the lead. Something had shifted between them. Something immense and immeasurable. It frightened and humbled her.

  He stroked her hair, his breathing gradually returning to normal. “Forgive me, princess. It will get better from here on out, I swear.” He managed a choked chuckle. “But in truth, that was probably for the best. I want to take my time with you.”

  One short sentence sent her stomach tumbling. “Promises, promises,” she dared to tease.

  Jacob straightened. In one quick glance she discerned that despite his release, he was primed and ready to go again. Oh my…

  His hands bracketed her face and he dragged her close for a hungry kiss. “You’ve bewitched me,” he said roughly. “I don’t even know myself anymore.”

  She rested her hands on his, tilting her face to the moonlight so he could read her sincerity. “I need you to make love to me, Jacob, more than I need my next breath. No post mortems. No regrets. Only pleasure. You promised.”

  Fifteen

  You promised. Jacob struggled to round up remnants of his usual self, but it was no easy task. Ariel Dane, virtually naked, her skin luminous in the glow of the moon, shivered in his arms. Soothing her automatically, he nuzzled her hair, his eyes damp.

  His chest ached with emotion. She was temptation personified. The answer to all his unspoken pleas, the reward for a life he had done his best to make count for something.

  All he wanted to do was please her, but he didn’t know how. She was generous and open and loving. Jacob was shut off, emotionally sterile.

  But at least he could give her this. Pleasure.

  He lowered his hands to her curvy ass, pulling her against his hips.

  “Put your arms around my neck,” he commanded. Carefully, he stood, staggering slightly as Ariel’s slim legs wrapped around his waist.

  She rested her cheek on his shoulder, silent. Unusually silent.

  Jacob walked toward the water. The waves in the tiny sheltered cay were nothing more than ripples on the surface. He strode out into the ocean, wincing at the chill on his warm skin. In moments, as he adjusted, the sea felt like bathwater.

  Ariel, still mute, clung to him like seaweed.

  When he stopped, waist deep, she finally spoke. “Are you going to drown me?” she asked in a pleasantly conversational tone.

  Her weight was barely a strain, though keeping his footing in the shifting sand was a challenge. “Should I?” he asked.

  Her breasts pressed warmly at his chest. “I wouldn’t advise it. Rod would be pissed.”

  Jacob stroked the crease of her buttocks, barely concealed by wet silk. “Do you trust me?”

  “Always.”

  A simple, heartfelt word. Trust he perhaps did not deserve. With one hand, he reached up and began pulling the pins from her elaborate chignon, tossing them one at a time out into the dark water. Ariel’s hair spilled like liquid gold, glimmering as it covered her shoulders.

  Her familiar mischievous grin flashed in the dark. “Are you adding hairdresser to your resume?”

  “I want you to float,” he said. “I’
ll keep a hand beneath you, but you’ll have to let me hold you.” Easing her into a horizontal position, he supported her hips as she aligned her body, arms outstretched overhead. “Close your eyes,” he murmured.

  She obeyed, her compliance arousing. “Now what?” A smile still lingered at her lips.

  “Nothing. Just feel.”

  With his spare hand, he combed through her hair, separating each strand until the undulating tresses floated freely. Now she really did look like a mermaid.

  He stroked her forehead, her nose, her cheeks and her collarbones. Ariel’s posture was lax, her breathing barely perceptible. White breasts, tipped in dark raspberry, broke the surface of the water. Playing with each responsive crest aroused him even more.

  Skating down toward her flat belly, he found the only item of clothing she wore. Wet black silk that outlined the shape of her sex. Jacob probed gently with a finger, his muscles clenching in hunger when Ariel gasped and lifted her hips into his touch.

  As she did, she began to sink. He put both hands beneath her. “Stop,” he commanded. “No matter what I do to you, I need you to relax. Do you understand?”

  Her floating hair swirled as she nodded her head. “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Are you cold?”

  “No.”

  He touched her again. This time, a choked groan was her only response. Pushing aside the panties, he bared her femininity. A tiny fluff of pale blond hair, neatly trimmed, led the way to plump, slick folds of flesh. He shivered at the sight, though his skin was hot.

  Finding the little nub that was her pleasure center, he ran the tip of his finger across it, barely making contact. The keening sound from Ariel’s throat made the hair stand up on his arms. He inserted a finger into her passage, just barely, and used his thumb on her sweet spot.

  She was tight and slick. Imagining his sex delving into that warm welcome hardened his shaft to stone. “I want more access,” he said quietly, moving her gently. “Lock your ankles behind my back. Keep your hands over your head.”

  Now she was fully open to him. So beautiful. So trusting. A slender sea nymph, begging to be loved.