by Annie West
Before he could prevent her she’d clambered to her feet, insisting on walking. But Jake wasn’t fooled, he’d seen her stiff movements and insisted on a doctor.
Fortunately the doctor, checking out both nanny and child, had declared no harm done. Caro would suffer only bruising.
Yet Jake couldn’t put her from his mind.
At least he knew he could trust her with Ariane. Caro might have been severely injured or killed with that desperate dive.
Jake’s heart had been in his mouth. He wasn’t used to being on the sidelines, watching others act. Guilt gouged him. He should have been the one to save Ariane but he hadn’t been within reach.
The experience had changed him. Like varnish stripping away layers, there was nowhere now to hide the attraction he should not feel for his niece’s nanny.
He tried telling himself it was because she was so good with Ariane. Even when his niece drew into herself or, very occasionally, acted up over something that to him seemed insignificant. There were times when he thought Caro too strict and others when her refusal to respond to a display of childish temper made him want to intervene. But he knew so little about child-rearing that he held back and each time he’d been glad, as Ariane became more like the engaging child he knew.
Frankly, those small displays of temper were a relief. When he’d first seen Ariane after the accident she’d been a shadow, withdrawn and wan.
Time, and Caro Rivage, were helping.
Yet hiring her hadn’t been his best decision. Because no matter how he tried to distance himself, he couldn’t ignore her. Or the awareness thickening his blood when she was near.
He didn’t date staff.
He didn’t pursue mousy women.
Yet, despite her penchant for wearing browns and dull navy, Caro Rivage wasn’t mousy. The quiet manner couldn’t conceal the lambent fire that blazed when she smiled at Ariane. Or when she forgot to be meek and treated him to a glimpse of that proud—and, he was sure, passionate—woman behind the mask.
That hidden woman made Jake’s blood sizzle. He’d bet every million he’d made that hers sizzled too. Today her expression had made him want to forget every reason she was off limits. To break through the tension that hummed between them like electricity through a high-voltage cable.
He’d wanted to discover if she melted at his touch.
Even the way she dragged her hair into that tight bun, like a nanny a century ago, was perversely alluring. Instead of making her look frumpy, the style drew attention to the purity of her neck and jawline, and that small but exquisite mouth. Molten heat pooled in his groin at the memory of that mouth, as pink and delicate as a rosebud.
Rosebud? Delicate?
His last lover had been confident, sophisticated and gifted with a wide, mobile mouth that she used with sinful persuasiveness. That was the sort of woman he dated, clever, amusing and blatantly erotic.
Why did Caro Rivage tie him in knots? The other day he’d found himself pondering her neat collarbone, glimpsed beneath the V of another primly buttoned blouse, wondering if her skin was as soft as he imagined! He’d leaned in, drawn by the hint of sweet spice in the air as she moved, till he realised what he was doing.
Jake set his jaw, shoved his chair back and shut his laptop. It was midnight but he’d never settle to sleep. He’d work off this excess energy in the gym till he was too fatigued to think of rosebud mouths, creamy skin and that husky, feminine voice.
It was a good plan. The only trouble was, when he pushed the door open to the cellar fitness complex, there was Caro standing between the pool and the hot tub, head bent as she undid the belt of her robe.
Her hair, instead of being yanked back in a bun, fell in waves past her shoulders, making her look soft and young. The guarded, self-contained nanny was gone.
Jake’s throat dried as she shrugged the robe off.
She was tall, slender but with a sweet, streamlined curve to her hips. She wore grey lace-edged knickers and matching singlet top. The outfit had none of the conscious seductiveness of a scanty bikini but she radiated an innocent eroticism that dragged his libido into raging life.
Every muscle tightened as blood hurtled to his groin. Every masculine response he’d fought to control roared into life.
Attraction.
Desire.
Downright hunger.
She must have heard the door or his sharp intake of breath because she turned and he saw her eyes widen before the swell of high, perfect breasts pressed against taut fabric caught his attention. She was braless and the little jiggle of her breasts as she sucked in air drove an arrow of carnal heat straight to his groin.
Through the thickening silence came a soft sound as the robe pooled around her bare feet.
Jake’s brain told him not to move even as he covered the small distance and bent to pick it up. At the same time she did.
His fingers brushed hers and he stilled. The robe fell again and he drew in a breath scented with woman and warm spice. The perfume went to his head like a draught of fine cognac downed too fast.
She straightened and he grabbed the robe from the floor, discovering it still warm from her body. His fingers curled into the towelling, rather than reach for her.
She was Ariane’s nanny. His employee.
Yet he couldn’t move. His soles were cemented to the floor. He was so close he saw her shiver.
Watching the flush rise from her breasts to her throat and cheeks Jake knew she wasn’t cold. He forced his gaze high and kept it there.
‘You’re having a swim?’
Congratulations, Maynard. Full points for observation.
His thought processes grew sluggish and it was the best he could do in lieu of marching back the way he’d come. That was what he should do but for the first time he could recall, his body refused to obey his brain.
She shuffled back a half step and he wondered in surprise if she found him intimidating. This last week she’d proved she was well able to stand up to him. He saw no fear in her face. Caro wore that guarded expression he’d come to hate, because his curiosity about her had grown insatiable.
He wanted to find out what went on behind that mask of calm as much as he wanted to taste her.
Neither, he told himself, was a good idea. He dropped the robe onto a lounger and managed his own half step away. The effort made him feel as if he’d run a half marathon.
‘No. Not a swim.’ The husky edge to her voice was pronounced, making it burr through his belly. ‘I was going to try the hot tub, if that’s okay.’
‘Of course it’s okay. Surely Neil made it clear you could use any of the facilities.’ Jake wrestled with thoughts of Caro in the hot tub. Naked? The notion locked his knees so he hadn’t a hope of walking away yet.
‘I...thank you, he did.’ She glanced down and away as if shy. Except that didn’t ring true with the woman he’d got to know in the last week. Undaunted, courageous, fiercely determined, caring of Ariane and, when it came to herself, reserved to the point of blankness, that was Caro.
Besides, though he fought to keep his eyes on her face, he hadn’t missed the way her nipples pebbled against her top. The area was well heated. He guessed it wasn’t a reaction to cold, especially with that tell-tale blush.
Reaction to him?
The idea threatened his resolve.
He should go. He’d even managed to look past her to the door to the gym when she spoke in a rush as if needing to fill the throbbing silence.
‘I thought the warm water might help.’
Jake’s gaze wrenched back to her then down, skating over lithe curves to the expanse of pearly skin showing between her knickers and her top. A bruise marred her pale skin on one side, the sight reminding him of her bravery today and how he’d feared for her.
‘Did the doctor give you something for pain?’
&
nbsp; She tugged her top lower and she shook her head, hair spilling around her shoulders. ‘It’s not that bad. I thought warm water might help me get to sleep. I feel...unsettled.’
Jake knew the feeling.
‘I had a similar thought but I’m heading to the gym.’
Yet he didn’t move.
* * *
Pale eyes blazed down at Caro. That silvery gaze was anything but cold. Wherever it touched her temperature soared.
Tonight, while she was suffering the after-effects of nearly losing her daughter on that snowy slope, the old, dark thoughts had circled again, waiting to swallow Caro whole. When she’d lost her baby the first time there’d been no one truly close to share her grief. Tonight she realised nothing had changed. Despite the friends she’d made in the intervening years, she was still essentially alone.
Except when she was with Jake Maynard.
The realisation slammed into her, fascinating and terrible.
With him she felt different. More alive. Less alone.
It had to be because they had a common purpose, caring for Ariane. Except as the atmosphere stretched taut around them she knew this wasn’t about Ariane. It was about her as a woman and Jake as a man.
Did he feel this throb of awareness?
Caro couldn’t afford to think so. Not with so much at stake. This masquerade. Ariane.
She couldn’t risk her position here! She should run as far and fast as she could in the opposite direction.
But how could she leave when Jake looked at her that way? As if she were Venus herself, striking mortal men with yearning. A spark ignited deep inside that grew and grew as he ate her up with his eyes.
The old longing to be wanted rose again, her fatal weakness.
In childhood she’d hoped if she was good enough her family would love her. When that never happened, she’d fallen for Mike, convinced too easily of his affection. Now here she was again, craving connection.
What would it be like to be truly wanted? And by Jake, the man who occupied too many of her thoughts both waking and sleeping.
Today she’d faced the stark reality of life and death. She’d almost lost her daughter. Was lucky to be alive herself. Recklessness rose. She wanted to live in the moment.
No. No. No! Think about Ariane. The reason you’re here.
She set her jaw, summoning the will to move.
‘Caro.’ Jake’s husky whisper carved a channel through her good intentions. His hands closed around her arms, gently enough that she could have broken his hold.
Caro told herself that was what she’d do. Soon.
His head swooped down, his lips brushing hers and she lost her train of thought.
That hard mouth wasn’t hard at all. It was soft, tender, impossibly tempting. Long ribbons of fire unfurled within her and she saw showers of sparks behind eyelids she hadn’t realised she’d closed.
Caro drew in a breath rich with citrus, bergamot and something she’d almost forgotten, that tangy, inviting scent of healthy male flesh.
The reality of Jake touching her, kissing her with infinite care sent need shuddering through her. She swayed and reached up to steady herself. Her fingers found soft cotton, taut over hot muscle. And more, his heart thundering as fast as hers. That undid her. The knowledge he was vulnerable too.
Caro splayed her fingers over his sculpted chest and felt him shiver.
She shivered too, the ripple starting at her nape and running down her arms, her spine and right through her middle.
One second. Just a second more, then I’ll be sensible.
She’d firmed her hands on his chest, ready to push away when Jake let go of her arms. Dazed, Caro registered the grinding pain of rejection and told herself it was for the best.
Except it wasn’t rejection.
Jake grasped her waist. Her top had ridden up and those hard fingers spanned bare flesh. Heat drenched her. She wanted those hands on her body. Everywhere. She no longer felt self-conscious that he’d found her in drab underwear since she didn’t have a swimsuit here.
All that mattered was the intoxicating warmth of his touch. His deep hum of approval vibrated through her as her mouth opened to his and their tongues embarked on a dance of mutual seduction.
The taste of him. The tenderness. The languorous sensuality. There was heat, demand, a sense of bridled ferocity as he leaned in and she bowed backwards, losing her balance, reliant on Jake to keep her from falling.
Caro’s hands slipped up over wide shoulders to the back of his head, fingertips slipping into thick hair that, like his mouth, was surprisingly soft.
Now there was no thought of leaving, of doing anything more than giving in to this compulsion.
Her breathing grew short and her pulse unsteady as the kiss became more than slow seduction. She needed Jake as surely as her oxygen-starved lungs needed air.
She gloried in it all. From the feel of his muscled thighs against hers to the possessive clasp of those powerful hands and the magic of his mouth moving with hers. She shuddered as Jake’s tongue swept deep in a caress that detonated explosions right through her.
When he pulled back to nip at her lower lip, then press kisses to the corner of her mouth and down to her jawline, Caro muffled a cry. He made her feel things she’d never felt before.
‘Don’t,’ he murmured, nuzzling that sensitive spot at the base of her neck. ‘I want to hear you.’
Her eyes snapped open. Eyes the colour of mercury, silvery bright, snagged hers.
‘I want to know what you like.’ His voice was different. Husky deep, like treacle over gravel, its rich abrasiveness turning everything inside her molten.
‘Everything. I like everything.’
Caro didn’t care that her voice betrayed her need. Not when he pressed close so his erection nudged her. She squirmed, planting her hands on his shoulders, trying to get closer.
‘Everything?’ One straight black eyebrow rose. His chest pushed her sensitised breasts as he drew a breath. Instantly her hard nipples ached and the ache drew down like an arrow, through her belly to the empty place between her legs.
She hesitated. A lifetime’s practice in self-denial and caution closed her throat.
But not for long. Despite the alarm bells clanging in the back of her mind, and the hazy thought that for reasons she couldn’t recall this was a bad idea, it felt so good. In Jake’s arms Caro felt a wonder and a yearning that was totally new.
‘Everything,’ she gasped, cupping the back of his skull and tugging his mouth back to hers.
Now there was no languor, just fire and sizzling sensation. He looped an arm around her back while his other hand strayed over skin and fragile cotton, exploring, making her gasp. His fingers slid between her thighs, over her panties. She pushed up to meet his touch, eliciting a growl of approval from the mouth welded to hers.
The sound burred over her bare arms and slid like a liquid channel, down to the place where she burned for him.
Caro was aware of movement. The wide lounger behind her legs, then she was in Jake’s arms, eyes popping open as he lowered her onto it and came down above her.
Fire was everywhere. Fire and longing. She plucked at his T shirt, drawing it up as she curled her ankles around his legs to stop him moving away. The press of his body set her alight.
‘Wait.’ It might have been an order except his voice was raw with a need that matched hers. Jake pulled back to straddle her hips, yanking his T shirt off.
Caro’s mouth dried. She’d never seen a man with a body like his. Wide shoulders, a powerful, deep chest with a light fuzz of dark hair that accentuated the contours of muscles. Below that smoother skin, taut with more muscle that tapered to a narrow waist.
Caro reached for him but he caught her hands and shook his head. ‘Soon.’ He bent low, pushing up her old camisole top. Then he to
ok her nipple in his mouth, drawing hard.
Caro didn’t mean to cry out but the shocking delight was too exquisite. Need sang in her blood and she fought to free her wrists and reach for him.
‘Patience, Caro.’ He crooned her name, turning it into a caress as he moved to her other breast, using his free hand, his lips and tongue to work magic.
She felt almost overwrought at the sensations he evoked. After years of celibacy and emotional numbness, he brought her to life with a vengeance. Delight danced through her and the need for more, more, more.
When he moved lower, his tongue slicking her navel and beyond, Caro didn’t know whether to weep or cheer. She loved what he was doing but she was teetering on an edge, where one nudge would make her fall off the precipice. She wanted to be with him when that happened.
Then his downward progress stopped. He traced a wide arc low across her belly. Then he looked up and the question in his eyes punctured the delirium of need.
‘Caro?’ For the first time since she’d known him, Jake looked hesitant. A line appeared between those dark eyebrows and his chest expanded as if on a sustaining breath. ‘Are these what I think?’
Even then her bewitched brain couldn’t make sense of his words. She levered herself up. He was looking at the pale striations across her abdomen.
Stretch marks.
Acquired during her eight and a quarter months of pregnancy.
Caro blinked, watching that tanned, capable hand stop on her belly. Jake’s touch seemed more intimate than if he’d caressed her between the legs where she was wet for him. Sex was a finite thing, its pleasure fleeting. But carrying her child—that had changed her at the most fundamental level. It was the most precious thing yet also the source of an anguish that had haunted her for years.
She swallowed, her throat raspy and tight.
‘You had a child?’
‘Yes.’ She didn’t think of lying. She couldn’t deny her daughter. Despite the masquerade she’d been forced to adopt to get close to Ariane, Caro would never do that.
It was madness to be upset now. The past was over. The future promised more than she’d dared hope for. Yet his question brought all today’s emotions to the surface and pierced the armour she’d tried to build around her memories. Suddenly the past with all its terrible pain was upon her. Her guilt that she hadn’t been able to keep her baby with her. She should have known, should have done something...