Moonlight in the Morning

by Jude Deveraux

  “I got them to remove the cast while I was in Miami. I wanted to put both my arms around you.”

  “I’m still here,” Nell said.

  “I meant you too,” Tris said. “A plural you.”

  “But if your arm has healed, you won’t need Reede to take over your practice, will you? You can go right back to work.”

  Tristan gave her a half smile. “It’s still weak, and I think I need some time for rehabilitation. What do you think?”

  “Definitely,” Jecca said. “Lots of time.” She wanted to add “maybe the whole summer” but didn’t. She turned to look at Nell. “How’s your father?”

  “He hurts but he’s okay.”

  Jecca looked at Tris for verification and he nodded.

  “Did you paint my playhouse?” Nell asked.

  “On paper. I drew several color possibilities, and Lucy and I got fabric samples.”

  “Fabric?” Tris asked. “Why do you need that and what have you ladies not told me?”

  Nell giggled again.

  “We have our secrets,” Jecca said. “But I can tell you that we’re going to make up for lost time in restoring the playhouse. I haven’t heard from Bill Welsch.”

  “Addy called him and he does want to work on the building, but he has a big job to finish first. It will be weeks before he can get to it.”

  “Mom said he wants to see Miss Livie,” Nell said.

  “How interesting.” Jecca looked at Tristan, but he shrugged. He still knew nothing.

  He was pulling into the parking lot of Al’s Diner.

  Big Al, who was as greasy as his hamburgers and had a truly remarkable belly, didn’t blink an eye when three formally dressed people walked into his diner. He yelled from behind the half counter that opened into the kitchen. “Doc! You want the usual?”

  “Sure,” Tris said.

  “And you, princess?” he asked Nell. “Grilled cheese and a chocolate milk shake?”

  “And—” Tris began.

  “Yeah, yeah, pickles for the two of you.” He looked at Jecca. “And you, city lady?”

  “City?” Jecca said in an exaggerated accent. “I grew up in New Joisey. Give me what you got and don’t hold back.”

  Al gave a snort, a sound that by a serious stretch of the imagination could be taken for a laugh.

  “You got it, Jersey ot , aLil.” He disappeared into the kitchen.

  “Al gave you a nickname,” Tris said. “You are now officially a member of Edilean society.” He motioned for Jecca to sit beside him, but she didn’t trust herself to be that close to him. She slipped in beside Nell, who was already flipping through the music charts.

  “Coward,” Tristan said under his breath.

  Jecca pretended not to hear him. “What’s with the pickles?” she asked.

  “All the Tristans like them,” Nell said without looking up.

  “Tristans?” Jecca asked, looking at him across the table. No man had ever before looked so handsome in a tuxedo. The garment could have been created just for Tris. And he looked utterly comfortable in it, wearing it with the ease of jeans and a T-shirt.

  It took concentration to remember where they were and what she was saying. “Are there more than one of you?”

  “The name goes back a few generations,” he said as he reached across the table and took her hand. “There’s been a succession of us.”

  “And they all like pickles.” Nell held out her hand to her uncle for money to put in the jukebox. Reluctantly, he let go of Jecca’s hand to feel in his trouser pockets. They were empty, so he looked inside his jacket. He came up with change, but he also pulled out Jecca’s note with the hearts on it.

  He gave the money to Nell, then looked at Jecca with blue fire in his eyes.

  She had to look away as her skin grew warm.

  “Miss Livie called Uncle Tris in Miami and told him what you were going to wear,” Nell said. “So he drove us very fast to the airport. We came home with no suitcases.”

  Jecca looked at Tris, her eyes questioning.

  “I couldn’t let you go to Reede wearing one of Miss Livie’s dresses, now could I?”

  Jecca couldn’t help being pleased. She imagined him and Nell running through the big Miami airport, sans luggage, and getting on the first plane where they could find seats. She’d never before had a man make such an effort to be near her.

  Elvis came on the jukebox singing “Hound Dog,” and Nell scooted toward Jecca. She wanted out of the booth.

  Jecca got up to let her out, thinking she was going to the restroom. Tris leaned back against the wall and motioned for Jecca to join him on that side of the booth. She couldn’t resist him a second time. And she told herself that she’d had enough time to calm down from the dance, so maybe she could sit by him.

  But he put out his arm and turned in the seat. It was easy for her to slide into the familiar position of snuggling together, and she sneaked a kiss on the back of his hand.

  He had time to put one kiss on her neck before he looked up.

  Nell had stopped in front of the old jukebox, and Al, with his enormous belly and grease-spattered apron, came out from the kitchen. He and Nell did an excellent rock-and-roll dance to Elvis’s song. Al hels scame out d her hand as they gyrated around, then he lifted Nell above his head, always being careful that his grease didn’t touch her.

  “They’re good dancers,” Jecca said.

  “No better than we are together,” he said softly, his lips on her ear. “Other women get scared when I try to dip them. But not you. You’re the best I’ve ever danced with.”

  “Really?”

  “Very much so. I’m beginning to think you’re the best at everything.”

  She couldn’t help smiling at his words. “I’m—”

  “I know,” he said. “Leaving.” He nibbled at her earlobe. “My dear niece is going to spend the night at my dad’s house. Want to have a sleepover with me?”

  She took a breath before answering. “Yes,” she said at last and felt a shiver of anticipation run through her.

  When the song ended, Al and Nell bowed to each other, and she returned to the booth. Jecca moved out of Tristan’s arms but she stayed on his side. Their food was served, and the talk turned to the playhouse.

  Jecca answered all Nell’s questions, but it wasn’t easy, as Tris’s hands were on her back, and twice he ran his fingers down her bare arm. By the time they’d finished, Jecca was ready to throw him across the tabletop, but Nell insisted that she had to have dessert. She told Al they wanted three pieces of cherry pie.

  While they waited, under the cover of the table Tristan put his hand on Jecca’s knee and moved upward. When he felt the stockings, which left an expanse of her thigh bare, he choked on his drink.

  “You drink too fast,” Nell said as Al handed around plates of pie.

  Tris looked at Jecca. “I like Miss Livie’s dress.”

  “Me too,” she said, smiling. “And this is just the way she wore it.”

  “Pole dancing and now this. Just when you think you know someone, you learn something new,” he said. “Nell, you think you could speed it up in eating that pie?”

  “No,” she said. “When are we going to leave for Uncle Roan’s cabin?”

  “He’s expecting us tomorrow. Is that okay with you, Jecca?”

  “Great,” she said, but she was having difficulty concentrating. Tris’s hand was moving slowly up her leg.

  “Can you bring the pictures of the playhouse?” Nell asked.

  “Uh . . . yes,” Jecca said.

  “Uncle Tris got me all the colored pencils and paints and paper you told him to.”

  “Good,” Jecca said. “We’ll . . .” She moved away from Tris before his hand drove her crazy.

  “More pie?” he asked Jecca. “Or would you like another dessert?”

  “I bet Grandpa will still be at the party,” Nell said as she turned a couple of cherries over for the fourth time. “Maybe I should stay with you tonight
.”

  “Not tonight,” Tristan said. “I have another engagement. Nell, if you finish that pie in four seconds I’ll buy you a—” He broke off.

  “Buy me a what?” Nell asked.

  “I can’t think of anything I haven’t already bought you,” he said, making Jecca laugh.

  “Okay,” Tris said, “we’re out of here.”

  “Can I—?” Nell asked.

  “No,” Tris said.

  “But maybe—”

  “Absolutely not,” Tris said. “You’re staying with Grandpa tonight, and he’ll take you to Miss Livie’s tomorrow morning, then we’ll all go to Roan’s.”

  “When?” Nell asked.

  “Whenever I get out of bed,” Tris said as he hurried her to the door.

  “You love to stay in bed,” Nell said in disgust and looked at Jecca. “Sometimes on Sundays when Mom and I get back from church he’s still in bed.”

  “He sounds like a very lazy man,” Jecca said.

  “He is.” Nell obviously didn’t want her uncle to send her away for the night.

  Jecca couldn’t help feeling a bit anxious as Tris drove Nell to the rented house his father was using. This is it! she thought. While he walked Nell to the door, Jecca sent a text to Lucy saying she wouldn’t be home tonight.

  WE’D BE DISAPPOINTED IF YOU WERE Lucy wrote back.

  By the time Tris got back to the car, Jecca was as nervous as a high school girl on her first real date.

  But she needn’t have worried because Tris immediately put her at ease. On the drive back to his house, he got her to talk about her afternoon workouts. By the time they were at his front door, their shared laughter had relaxed her.

  Once they were inside, he turned to her. “I wanted to have champagne chilled and rose petals for our first time,” he said. “But when I heard about you and the dress and the party . . .” He shrugged.

  “You ran to get on a plane.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I didn’t want to drag Nell with me, but she has a way of persuading a person . . .” He broke off when Jecca took a step toward him.

  He held out his arms to her and she went to him, his mouth capturing hers in a deep kiss. In every other kiss they’d shared she’d held back. They were too newly acquainted or the time wasn’t right. There always seemed to be some hindrance. But now they were alone and had the whole night together.

  His tongue found hers as his hand on the back of her head turned her so he had better access to her lips.s te t His hands ran over her body, down the silk of her dress.

  “I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you,” he whispered against her ear. His lips nibbled the lobe.

  “And when was that?” she asked, her head back as his mouth claimed her neck.

  “Years ago, but this time it was when you arrived. I saw you get out of your car and you were as beautiful as I remembered.” He kissed the skin just below her ear. “I liked the way you stretched.” He kissed the base of her throat. “I liked that you closed your eyes and breathed the air.” He bent her head down to his shoulder and kissed the back of her neck. His hand was on her zipper and as he lowered it, his lips followed it down, inch by slow inch.

  As he reached the bottom, the dress fell away, leaving her standing there in lacy black underwear and some very high heels.

  “Beautiful,” he said as he turned her around, his eyes and hands caressing her.

  His arm was around her as they went up the stairs. There was a dimmer on his bedroom lamp so the light was soft and warm.

  Tristan led her to the bed, then stood back and looked down at her.

  Jecca was glad she’d worn the stockings, glad for all the lace and the silk.

  Tristan stepped back from her, his eyes never leaving hers as he began to undress. First the tie, then the jacket. When he came to the shirt, Jecca sat up and motioned for him to come to her. Her fingers were trembling as she unfastened the buttons of his shirt.

  Part of her wanted to leap on him, to let out all the passion she felt, but the larger part wanted their first time to be slow, languorous. Most of all, she wanted to see him, to fill her senses with the sight of him. She knew the sounds of him, the sweet fragrance of his breath, and the feel of his body against hers. The missing part was looking at him, drinking in the color of his eyes and hair and skin, seeing the way the whiskers grew on his jaw, the way his hair curled about his neck.

  She kissed his chest as she unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it out of his trousers. He started to lean forward to kiss her, but she put her hand on his chest and held him away. She wanted to look at the way his muscles played under his skin. She ran her hands over his chest, curved down over his well-developed pecs, felt the ridges of his stomach.

  “All right?” he asked.

  She thought he was joking, but when she looked back at his face she saw that he was genuinely concerned that she found him pleasing. He had to know he was beautiful, but at the same time his only concern seemed to be that she found him attractive. Not the world in general, but her, Jecca Layton.

  She smiled at him. “More than all right,” she said, and he smiled back.

  “Jecca,” he said as his arm went around the back of her and pulled her up to him. He kissed her long and hard, and when he moved away, there was such fire in his eyes, a blue fire, as though the ocean was ablaze, that Jecca almost backed away. Almost.

  “Oh yes!” she murmured as he began to remove her clothing.

  He sat down beHe s cheside her and put her leg across his lap. He still wore his trousers, and she could feel the wool against the bare part of her thigh. He unclipped her stocking and rolled it down, his lips following his hands.

  First one silk then the other until her legs were bare. He ran his hand from her foot to her thigh, his thumb moving just inside her panties.

  Jecca put her head back, her eyes closed, as she gave herself over to his touch.

  He lay her back against the bed, and when he stretched out beside her he was nude. She could feel the soft cotton of the sheet, the silk of her underwear, and the delicious warmth of his skin.

  He was kissing her body, her stomach, then back up to her neck.

  She buried her hands in his thick hair and brought his mouth to hers.

  Somehow, her bra fell away. Her senses were so taken up with the feel of him that she was no longer aware of what was going on. Tristan surrounded her, overwhelmed her. It was as though she could only feel, hear, smell, taste him. Nothing else mattered outside this man.

  His mouth on her breast made her arch her back, and when she did, he slipped her panties down her legs, his hands caressing as he moved.

  When he entered her she gasped and he put his mouth over hers.

  His strokes were long and slow, and Jecca felt the sweet buildup in her. Her hands were on the back of him, feeling the way his muscles played under his skin, how they moved as he entered her deeply, rhythmically.

  He put his leg around hers, then flipped onto his back, taking Jecca with him.

  She straddled his hips and looked down at his beautiful face, at his wide expanse of chest with the golden skin stretched over lean muscle, and she knew she’d never before felt such desire.

  She began to move on top of him, up and down, harder and harder. His hands held her hips, his arms helping her. She bent forward, her hands on the headboard, going faster and faster.

  Tristan tossed her onto her back and thrust into her so that she cried out with the pleasure of it.

  They came together in fireworks, holding on to each other, their bodies going through wave after wave of passion.

  Tristan rolled off of her, sweat gleaming on his skin. “That was . . .” He didn’t seem to know what to say.

  Jecca moved onto her side to face him, her hand on his chest. “That was the beginning,” she said.

  He smiled at her. “You’ll have to give me a minute before we can start again.”

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m an artist. To create is my cre
ed in life. When I get through with you, you’ll be more than ready to go again.”

  “If that’s a challenge, I accept,” he said. “Gladly.”

  Jecca wanted to touch him, to slide her skin against his, to feel the curves of her body move against the planes of his. She lay on top of him, her back to his front, and liked touching only him, no sheet, no clothes, just flesh on flesh. She moved he. Sbody move r feet on his, ran her hands on his forearms, feeling the hair on them. When she moved her posterior over the center of him, he groaned.

  Turning over, she faced him and put her face in his neck, breathing the familiar scent of him. His hands stroked the back of her, down her shoulders, her arms, to her waist, curving over her buttocks.

  Rolling off of him, she nudged him to turn over, and she repeated her exploration of his delicious body. Again, she touched only him, bare skin against bare.

  Her movements went from sensual until she began to feel the urgency of wanting him, needing him, her body filling with desire.

  Tristan moved out from under her and this time he took her with a white-hot passion.

  As Jecca had imagined when she first saw Tristan’s bed, they rolled off of it. He hit the floor first, holding Jecca to him and never breaking contact, her on top. His long fingers gripped her hips as she dropped down on him with a very satisfying thud.

  Minutes later, he pulled her to a big chair and pulled her ankles up to his neck. A long while afterward, they were out of the chair and Jecca’s knees felt the burn of the carpet.

  When they at last came together, the sun was beginning to glow in the sky.

  Tristan picked Jecca up with his arm about her waist, dropped her onto the bed, then fell down beside her. They were asleep instantly.

  Thirteen

  Jecca awoke to the delicious sight of Tristan, showered and shaved, wearing only a pair of Levi’s, his upper half and feet bare.

  He smiled at her. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  She stretched deliciously, the sheet barely covering her breasts. “What time is it?”

  “Eleven.”

  “You’re kidding! I slept the morning away?”

  He sat on the side of the bed beside her and put a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I had a good time last night.”