CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE TRILOGY

by Patrice Wilton

  “Derek?”

  “Hmm?” He’d pushed the silk aside, and his tongue had found her opening. He didn’t seem to be as interested in talking as in tasting her.

  She groaned. “Could you stop that for a moment? I have something I want to say.”

  “Can’t it wait? I’m kinda busy.” His tongue flickered in and out until it found her clitoris, and then it stopped and stayed.

  Oh, my God! Had anything ever felt so wonderful? No, surely not.

  Her throat constricted and her breathing became ragged. She could barely drag the words out. “I don’t want to play anymore. Please, Derek. Release me.”

  He looked up at her. “Release you? What does that mean?”

  She stared down at him. “No more games. I want you. Now. Before you or I have a party on our own.”

  His laugh rang out. “Now you’re talking my language.”

  He ripped her panties off her and kicked off his shorts, then they were on the bed and he was inside her. Her hands clinging to his shoulders, she arched her back, lifting her hips to meet his.

  They met each other thrust for thrust, and Christine was taking as much as she was giving. Never before, not even in her married life, had she felt so in tune with a man. He fit her better than she had ever imagined a man could, and it didn’t matter if he was on top or if she was. They rolled around, never losing each other, a connection that seemed to spring from somewhere inside of them, a place that had been too long neglected.

  “Are you ready?” he whispered against her ear.

  “Yes, yes, yes,” she gasped, and with a last shuddering thrust they both came.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  “You okay?” Derek asked.

  Christine was flopped on top of him, half sleeping, half dead. Lifting her head from his chest, she peeked at him.

  “Uh-huh. And you?” She hoped he was comfortable because she didn’t want to move. Right now, snoozing on his massive chest with him still buried inside her, there was no place she would rather be.

  “I’ve got a kink in my arm,” he said, “but I have no desire to move a muscle. I like it exactly where I am.”

  He kissed her lips, and the sweetness of the caress melted her heart. “Having sex with you could get very addictive.” He spoke lazily, seductively, sending little thrills inside and out of her. “Think we could make this a daily habit?”

  Her spine stiffened. A daily habit? What was he thinking? Didn’t he realize they were only having recreational sex? No, of course he didn’t. She kept changing the rules. How could the poor man possibly keep up?

  “Christine?” He must have sensed something because he asked, “Why have you gone tense all of a sudden?”

  She pulled slightly away. “I’m sorry, Derek. I’m such an idiot. I should have explained, but I thought, I hoped you understood.” Tears sprang to her eyes but she blinked them away. Tears were for fools, and she was nobody’s fool. She was done with crying.

  “Explained what?” His voice was hard.

  “I thought we could be sex buddies since we both want it, need it, and we’re really good together.” She dropped a kiss on his chest, avoiding his eyes. “This was probably the best sex I’ve ever had, but that being said, I can’t see how it would be a good idea to make a habit of it. Once a week, maybe, but not a steady diet.” She patted his chest. “Anyhow, you want to fall in love, marry again, and I don’t.” She rolled off him. “I don’t know if I’m even capable of loving again, but I don’t think so. Jim killed all the love I had in me.”

  “I don’t believe that.” He touched her hair, entwining it with his finger, not allowing her to get away. “I think you have a great capacity to love, but you are just afraid to let it out.”

  She looked him in the eye. “I was hurt to the core and I’m not taking any chances of that happening again.” She didn’t want sympathy, only understanding.

  “I know how hard it is too lose someone you love,” he said, “but your husband is gone, and so is my wife. We both need to carry on. She would want me to, and I’m too young to spend the rest of my life alone.” He kissed her cheek. “And so are you.”

  She pulled away. “You need to find someone, and that someone is not me. I’m sorry to say it, but I don’t have any feelings left.” Her heart was hurting, yet she needed to be clear so he wouldn’t have any false hope. “I love my family and friends, but to give my whole heart to a man, well, I won’t let that happen.”

  “Christine. Stop fighting so hard.”

  She longed to slip out of bed and put some needed distance between them, but she couldn’t walk away from this conversation until he understood. After that mind-blowing sex, he deserved a good explanation.

  “I’m not fighting, Derek. Oh, hell, maybe I am. I don’t know. But I do know this. I care for you very much, but that is all it will ever be. I refuse to love. I. . . refuse. I will not lose control of my heart.”

  He ran one hand up and down her leg. “Look. I’m not asking you for a commitment, and I don’t want to take up too much of your time. But I like being with you, and I love being inside you”--he dropped a kiss on her shoulder--“and I’d like to see you once in a while. You think you could handle that?”

  She lunged out of bed, grabbed her bra and snapped it on. “Once in a while? Sure. But I still think you need to date and keep your options open.”

  Derek stood up slowly, and the sight of him, all rugged, naked male, made her heart race and her throat turn to dust. Why was she pushing him away instead of grabbing on tight and giving them both what they wanted?

  Because the fear of being hurt was too strong. No matter how much pleasure she found with him, she was not willing to risk her heart. It had been broken once and she had survived—barely. Another break would devastate her.

  Too bad. Not only was he the hunkiest guy she’d ever slept with, he was also the nicest.

  “I’m sorry, Derek. It’s not likely that I’ll change my mind.” She slipped on her underwear. “But you’ll be working here for a few days. We could…consult, let’s say the day after tomorrow?”

  She started to put her arms around his waist, but he stepped away. “Forget it. I’ve changed my mind. I’m really not all that interested in servicing you just because you get the itch. If you can’t do feelings, then I can’t do you.”

  He pulled on his shorts, zipped them up, slung his shirt over his shoulder, and strode out. Her eyes swallowed up his bare back, the breadth of his shoulders, the solid muscle that came from hard work, not lifting weights at a gym. She saw the still trim waist and his tight ass, and could have kicked herself.

  What had that bastard Jim done to her?

  ***

  Anne’s trip had come to an end. Before she returned home, she would spend a few more days with Salvatore.

  She had called to let him know she would stay on in Paris with him, although she had taken her daughter’s advice and booked her own room so that she would be under no obligation. Maybe when she saw him again the spark between them would be gone. It might have been only a fleeting thing. She certainly hoped so. She didn’t want to become romantically involved with a handsome, charming man who lived on the other side of the world.

  Still, after a two day tour of Paris, her friends headed with the rest of the tour for the airport, and Anne took a cab to the Hotel Meurice. She asked the clerk at the desk to call up to Salvatore’s room and tell him she was there. Pacing the lobby, she felt excited and nervous, incredibly adventurous and foolish at the same time. It wasn’t too late, she thought, to take a cab to the airport and join her friends on the trip home. She still had a ticket. She looked at the door that led out onto the street, and felt a hand on her back.

  She spun around. “Salvatore.” Her heart skipped and she blushed like a young girl.

  “Anne. My dear Anne. Radiant as always.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheeks. “You weren’t about to leave, were you?”

  She blinked away the tears that formed in the cor
ners of her eyes. “I was thinking about my family back home, and my friends. Wondering what I am doing here, instead of getting on that flight home.”

  He smiled and took her hand. “You are only extending your vacation a few days. Is that so wrong?”

  She smiled back. “No. I guess not.”

  She raised her eyes to the ceiling of the lobby, waiting for her husband to say something. Why wasn’t he sending her any messages? Where had he gone?

  She looked back at Salvatore, this handsome, charming man who wanted to be with her. It was time, Anne realized, to let go of the past and look ahead to her future.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  The following day while Derek worked on her kitchen, Christine stayed at the office, keeping busy and trying not to think about him. Not so easy, when Jenny and Helga wanted to know all about the new cabinets and counters she had chosen, and kept telling her she really should be at her house helping Derek—or at least overseeing him—instead of at work. As if she was going anywhere near him again. She already knew the man was trouble with a capital T. Steering clear of him was her only hope. Being with Derek was like giving nicotine to a person trying to quit. Sadly, it took a stronger woman than she to resist that much temptation. Good thing she’d never taken up cigarettes. If sex with Derek was an indicator of how much she’d have enjoyed it, she’d have been a double packer a day for sure.

  She glanced up when she heard Jenny give a half sexy, half snortle kind of laugh. Jenny was on the phone with hunky Joe. After bribing Helga with her favorite bagels every morning, Jenny had wormed his number out of her, and now the two women were the best of buddies.

  Jenny was going on her first date with Joe that night.

  “What are we going to talk about?” she asked Christine nervously. “I mean, he’s a personal trainer and I’ve never exercised in my life.”

  “Well, ask him how he got into the business, where he works, about his other interests. Whatever. You’ll wing it. Has he always lived in the States, do you know?”

  “He was born in Vienna, he told me, and moved around Europe a lot. Then he moved to America some years ago.”

  “Hmm. Well, that should give you a lot to talk about.” She smiled fondly at Jenny, as she would her own daughter. “Don’t worry. You’re a doll, and Joe’s going to be crazy about you.” Christine scrunched up her nose. “Or maybe after one date, you won’t even like him.”

  “Maybe, but I don’t think so.” Jenny tossed her head, and her long curly hair went flying. “We’re going to a movie and dinner. Think he’ll try to kiss me during the movie?”

  “I’d be surprised if he didn’t.”

  Helga popped her head around the corner, and both Christine and Jenny spoke together in a sing-song manner, “I can hear you.”

  All three women laughed, and Helga came and sat down with them. She started telling stories about the old country and about Joe when he was a young boy. According to Helga, Joe had been asthmatic as a child, quite sickly, and unable to do any sports at all. She said as he grew older, he grew out of it, and trained as a body builder.

  Christine and Jenny had no idea if the stories were true or not, but it kept them entertained for half an hour.

  Right after lunch, Christine had a call from Allen Forbes. He was out of the hospital and was meeting Nora on Saturday at the Norton Museum. Afterwards they would have dinner at the Palm Beach Grill.

  She was delighted that the two of them were going to meet, and hoped for everyone’s sake that they were moderately attracted to each other. If not, she would do her best to find Nora someone more to her liking. She’d promised satisfaction guaranteed, and she would stand by it.

  She hung up the phone, the word “satisfaction” lingering in her brain. After yesterday with Derek, she was thoroughly satisfied. She couldn’t imagine wanting or needing sex again for another year or two. Derek had more than fulfilled all the burgeoning needs in her, and it would be a long time before she’d have those overpowering urges again.

  Or so she hoped. After living as a divorced woman for three years and behaving with admirable restraint, in the past few weeks she had indulged in the most spontaneous, wild and wonderful sex that she’d ever known.

  It could be extremely addictive, but. . . she couldn’t allow it to be. For one—she didn’t do feelings, and so, as Derek said, he couldn’t do her. And two—she had to be a good role model for her daughter, and being a hedonist was not going to cut it. Unless she could do it secretly, of course.

  What were the odds she could change Derek’s mind? Why couldn’t they simply have fun?

  She wondered if Derek was still at home working on her kitchen. Maybe he did need an extra pair of hands. Closing her eyes for a moment, she allowed her mind to wander, imagining the many places those hands could be.

  After another long, mostly useless hour at the office, she decided to leave the other women in charge and go home to sneak a peek at Derek.

  Disappointment slugged her in the gut when she found that he’d already left. He’d taken away the cabinet doors that had been damaged, and now gaping holes displayed her mismatched sets of plates from her twenty year marriage. It was an ugly reminder of how a broken marriage turned out.

  Sometimes one thing does not complement the other and they don’t belong side by side, or even in the same room together. She wasn’t sure if she was meaning the dishes or her and Jim, but neither worked.

  In a week or two the new cabinets would come in, and perhaps now would be a good time to get rid of the few remaining pieces of her past and start fresh. New dishes, new kitchen, new life. She liked the sound of that.

  Derek had laid the new tiles this morning and they looked so nice. The old tiles had been a speckled white, but this new tile was a warm natural shade and looked like a marble floor.

  The old white appliances could be replaced right away, but it might be better to wait until the rest of the work was done. A pretty new backdrop and touch up paint would complete the new upgraded kitchen. It would be lovely when it was completed, and for a second, she was actually grateful for the small fire.

  She wondered how many days of work it would involve. Would Derek be around her house for a while, and did she want him to be?

  Feeling the need to relax she went out to the range to hit some balls, then quickly discovered she was all in knots. A poor night’s sleep, a thousand things on her mind—none of which were good for golf. How could she focus on keeping the club on plane when she couldn’t get thoughts of Derek out of her head?

  Swoosh! The club swung through the air, never making contact with the ball. She took a couple of deep breaths and tried again.

  Why did sex have to complicate everything? Like with Derek. The sex between them had been sensational, and once again she’d managed to make him feel like crap afterwards. He deserved so much better.

  She hadn’t realized how cold and bitter she’d become. Hell, she couldn’t even give a man as worthy as Derek the love he so richly deserved.

  The knots in her shoulders tightened and she put down her club, trying to flex out a kink or two. It wasn’t working, so she gave up trying to de-stress and decided simply to whack away at balls. It felt good just to hit something.

  Yes, Jim had hurt her. But so what? She couldn’t wallow in the pain forever and take refuge behind a broken heart. Maybe Nicole and her mother were right. She needed to let go, and learn to trust again.

  She put another ball on a tee and smacked away.

  She did trust Derek. What was not to trust? He was pretty much an open book. Honest, hard working, kind, considerate, intelligent, sexy. Had she forgotten anything? Oh, yes. He made her laugh and feel good. Better than good. He made her feel young, attractive, appreciated, and she knew that they were compatible in a variety of ways. It might be fun to explore exactly how many, both in the bedroom and out of it. But she’d blown that for sure. It was highly unlikely she’d get another chance at him.

  She bent over and teed up another b
all.

  What the hell was her problem anyway? Was she such a martyr that she didn’t want to be happy? Was it better just to be a caregiver and ensure everyone else’s happiness, ignoring her own?

  She smacked another ball, and then another.

  Derek wanted a woman to love. She had agreed to find him one. But her guts twisted at the thought. She wanted to save him--for her. All the women who joined Champagne could have any guy they wanted, except one.

  She didn’t want them falling in love with Derek, sleeping with Derek, marrying Derek. Even more importantly, she didn’t want Derek finding a love interest elsewhere.

  So, what was she to do?

  Her resolve not to love was weakening, and that could only mean trouble—for her. She had always prided herself in being the sort of person who knew what they wanted in life and fought hard to get it. But she wasn’t sure of anything any more.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Paris was a great walking city, and Anne and Salvatore did sections of the city every day. They would cover one area in the morning, enjoy a fine lunch, and move to another quarter for the afternoon. They strolled along the Seine and over bridges, enjoyed the enthralling views, the local artists and street vendors, and of course frequently stopped at cafes for a cappuccino or delicious pastry.

  It had been many years since Anne had enjoyed herself so much. She was very fond of Salvatore, too fond in fact. She had no desire to fall in love with him and leave her family behind. Her family was the most important thing in her life. More important than romance and companionship, and certainly sex. Although she must admit, Salvatore was an Adonis in the bedroom. She wondered if it was his Italian blood that made him the consummate lover.

  She had expected it to be a difficult decision for her to sleep with him, but in fact, it had not. The first evening he had wined and dined her, and she had gone back to his room and he had kissed her softly, never pressuring her. She had enjoyed his kisses and the feel of his arms holding her tight. It had been a long, long time since she’d been held, and she’d missed it more than she knew.