A Night to Remember (15 page)

“Is your hair tied up in a bun?”

“Naturally.” Eleanor giggled. The man was impossible!

“Mmmmmm. Sexy. I like your hair piled up tight on your head. It looks so prim and proper. Makes it all the more fun to try and muss you up. Let's see, first I'd take down that hair, pulling the pins out slowly, one by one. When they were finally gone, I'd massage your neck and make you shake the curls loose. Doesn't that feel better, sugar?”

The hint of Southern twang in his voice had her sliding down on the couch. What should she do? Just one icy comment would completely kill the mood. The words hovered on her lips, but she hesitated. Should she be daring and play along?

“I-it does feel better. My hair. Hanging loose.”

Eleanor covered her mouth and groaned. She sounded like a moron.

“Good. Now we need to get rid of those shoes. I must confess, I've never liked the boxy, square-toe style on you. I like to see you wearing thin, spike heels. In red. Shows off those great calf muscles.”

“I'd fall off heels that high and thin and break my ankle,” Eleanor replied dryly, then winced, thinking she had unintentionally killed the mood.

“Perfect. I'd catch you as you fell. At this point, I'll take any excuse to hold you in my arms.”

Eleanor slowly let out her breath. Nice save. Yet the silence on the other end of the line told her Joshua was waiting for her to say something. “W-what next?”

The deep growl he made was pure male excitement. “The support hose have got to go. But I'd peel them off slow and easy, letting my fingers glide over those smooth legs of yours, massaging your tired muscles until you were sighing with pleasure. Then I'd move higher, searching until I found that sweet, soft spot at the top of your inner thigh.”

“Oh my,” Eleanor whispered, as she felt the heat spread across her face. And other parts of her anatomy.

“Would you like that, darlin'? I know you would, so I'd keep at it, circling the same spot, lazily. Then your eyes would drift close. I'd start moving my fingers higher and higher, until I heard that catch in your breath, the little cry of excitement that lets me know how much you need me, how much you want me.”

Eleanor's nipples sprang to erect attention. Sensations she thought she'd never experience again with Joshua started coursing through her. She knew if she protested he would stop at once, yet she felt helpless to resist the deep, sensual timbre of his voice.

“Could I have a kiss?” she whispered in a small voice.

He groaned. “A dozen. To start. First your sweet lips. I love the taste of your soft breath, the warmth of your tongue, that rumbling noise you make deep in the back of your throat. Then I'd let my lips travel, kissing you all over, sinking my mouth into your pale flesh until your skin starts to burn, until your body starts to soften.

“My hands would wander, too, and I'd stroke you gently, lightly where you are sweet and scented and made just for me. And I'd wait, anticipating that joyous moment when you'd start to make that purring, pleasured sound that tells me you are near the peak of your climax.”

Eleanor could hear herself panting. Her knuckles brushed against her neck and she could feel the heat on her skin, could almost imagine that it was Joshua's firm lips caressing her fevered flesh.

“You're just playing with me,” she croaked out.

“Ahh, sugar, you are my favorite toy. Unique, precious, irreplaceable. The only one I refuse to share with anyone.”

His toy?
The whimper of need that was shuddering in her throat stilled. She waited for the anger and outrage to take hold, but his voice drifted over her indignation.

“I'd swing you on top of me, sprawled naked across my chest, so I could give myself the sheer pleasure of watching you move, so I could see as well as feel your body clamp down around me. Rising up a little faster and thrusting down a little harder.”

She bit her lip, tensing with expectation. He seemed to possess the power to so easily tap below the surface of her proper self and transform her into the passionate woman lurking inside. She had never tried the position he was suggesting, even though it had always intrigued her. How had he known?

Her mind formed a picture of them together. Joshua on his back, with her astride him. Their bodies joined tightly together, the heat surrounding them. Eleanor could almost feel the passion mounting, as she imagined his hands on her breasts, teasing her nipples to hard peaks, her thighs quivering tightly each time he surged up to fill her.

“If I'm on top, I'm in control,” Eleanor gulped.

“Sure you are,” he whispered seductively. “Completely in control. Of me, of us. And that's where you'll stay, as I fill your swollen flesh fully and deeply. Your back arched, your lovely face etched with passion, the climax building harder and faster until you sob my name in pure satisfaction.”

Eleanor barely managed to refrain from grinding her teeth. Her body felt alive with excitement, throbbing with need. She was drowning in a sensual onslaught brought on by his suggestive words, the mesmerizing way he spoke them, and the incredible images they produced.

She remembered reading in a woman's magazine once that satisfying lovemaking was just as much a mental fulfillment as a physical release. She believed that now.

There was nothing on the other end of the line except the sound of harsh, deep, masculine breaths, telling Eleanor that Joshua was still on the phone.

“Wow. I think I need a cigarette,” she said weakly. “And I don't even smoke.”

“Hell, Eleanor, I can be at your apartment in forty-five minutes.” His voice was harsh, raspy. “Thirty-five if I disregard the speed limit.”

“I don't think that would be wise.” Eleanor blinked rapidly. What had she done? “It's getting late and I ... ah ... have to go.”

He made a noise that sounded like steam escaping a radiator. Eleanor's heart started thudding. “Good night, Joshua.”

Without waiting for a reply, she promptly hung up the phone.

 

 

Joshua heard the definitive click. It wasn't a surprise, more of a disappointment. He had pushed her as far as he dared for tonight. Gently he punched the Off button on his portable phone and placed it on his desk.

He inhaled a ragged breath. His body was singing with sexual tension, so hard and aroused it was almost painful. She was killing him!

It was no contest. There had never been another woman in his life who excited him as much, who made him feel so alive and eager. She had something totally unique to offer him and no matter what it took, he was determined to get it.

He never had to try very hard to get women, never worked very hard at keeping them once he had them. Since his teenage years, women had always seemed to be easily and conveniently in his path.

Maybe this was what had been missing from his other relationships. The courting rituals. Joshua had actually started to enjoy the novelty of it, had been enticed and intrigued by the chase. Especially since Eleanor presented such a challenge. She wouldn't be impressed by the obvious gestures, was in fact consciously resisting his advances.

And resisting, he was convinced, her own feelings. Joshua was slightly miffed that after a week of nightly phone conversations she was still refusing to see him. But he was very determined to change that—and soon.

He needed a new plan of pursuit. One that would bring him in physical contact with her. He needed the added advantage of being able to attract her attention as well as being able to witness her reactions. She wasn't very adept at hiding her true feelings, and he was counting on that honesty to guide him in his quest to win her over.

After a discrete knock, the door to his study opened.

“Dinner is ready, Mr. Barton. Would you like it served in here instead of the dining room? I can bring a tray in for you.”

Joshua glanced up in confusion at his middle-aged housekeeper. She had probably been placating his temperamental cook for the past half hour. Yet the last thing on Joshua's mind right now was food.

“I'm not very hungry this evening. Please extend my apologies to Cook. I'm sure she has gone to a great deal of trouble, as always, but I couldn't do justice to a meal. Have a plate made up that can be reheated in an hour or so. I'll ring when I want it.”

He waited until his housekeeper had left before slowly rising to his feet. He was still excited by the thought of Eleanor, as evidenced by his physical arousal. With a grim smile he headed toward his private bath, intent on doing something he hadn't done in years.

Take a long, ice-cold shower.

The tables were covered with books and puzzle pieces, scraps of paper and small pencils, piles of videotapes and stuffed animals. Two small chairs were tipped over and one of the computer screens was obviously malfunctioning, blinking a nearly blinding pattern over and over.

“It looks like a cyclone blew through here,” Rosalind commented wryly.

“The Peterson triplets.” Eleanor grinned at Rosalind, a fellow library assistant, as they surveyed the damage wrought to the children's section. “Even with their mother, an aunt, and a grandmother along those three boys managed to destroy the place in ten minutes flat. A new record.”

“Did they at least check out any books?”

“No.” Eleanor laughed. “Mrs. Peterson couldn't find her library card, and the triplets had reached their breaking point. I selected a few titles I thought the boys would enjoy and left a stack of books at the circulation desk for her. She said she'd try to come back later to check them out. Without the kids.”

“Poor woman.” Rosalind shook her head. “I only have one toddler at home and she runs me ragged.”

Eleanor smiled in sympathy, remembering the chaos that occurred the time Rosalind had brought her energetic daughter to the library. “I agree that Mrs. Peterson usually looks exhausted, but she told me once that she and her husband had tried for six years to have a family. Thanks to a successful fertility procedure the boys were born. She may be bone-tired much of the time, but she seems so thrilled to finally have children, I don't think she minds.”

“All I can say is, better her than me,” Rosalind quipped with a small shudder.

Eleanor's gut reaction was agreement, yet as she tossed a few toys into the toy box, her thoughts drifted to families and babies and the lengths some people were forced to go to in order to achieve their dreams. The Petersons' situation was all too common these days. Would she be willing to do that much to have a baby if she found herself unable to conceive?

She honestly didn't know. Yet when she tried to imagine a dream family, Joshua's handsome face popped into the role of proud papa.

Eleanor groaned softly. Those nightly calls were starting to have an effect. Try as she might, she could not keep him from invading her thoughts at odd, unexpected moments.

Eleanor lifted a stack of picture books and headed for the shelves. She glanced at the title on the top of the pile and shivered.
All Different Kinds of Daddies.

The fantasy swirling in her head took flight. What sort of parent would Joshua be? Would he be involved in his children's lives or would he be too busy with business to spend much time with them?

And what of her? Would she take to motherhood with the patience of Mrs. Peterson, or would she be flustered, nervous, unsure? Eleanor liked children, that was one reason she had decided to work with them, but she had little experience with or knowledge of newborns. They were mysterious and rather terrifying entities.

But there would be extended family to help. Her own mother would be joyous over the prospect of becoming first a mother-in-law and then a grandmother. And what child wouldn't adore having as a grandparent the talented author Rosemary Phillips, whose wonderful stories celebrated the joys and trials of childhood?

Even the gruff Warren Barton seemed enthusiastic over the idea of having a grandchild or two to spoil. Eleanor remembered he had made several references to the lack of them during her visit.

She could envision the children playing on the beautiful grounds of the Barton estate, swimming in the pool, the ocean, riding horses, building sandcastles on the beach. Surrounded by love and laughter.

But the fantasy turned dark as Eleanor tried to imagine herself raising a child in an environment of great wealth and privilege, where she felt uncomfortable and out of place, self-conscious and insecure. What sort of mother would she be then?

“What's next?”

Rosalind's cheerful voice brought reality crashing back. Eleanor almost felt relieved to escape those disturbing daydreams.

“The community day camp is bringing over three groups of campers for a video program,” Eleanor replied, consulting her watch. “They should be here in an hour. I've already brought the projector and films into the program room. Would you check and make sure the electronic equipment is connected correctly? This is the first time I've done it on my own and I want to make sure it works properly.”

“No problem.” Rosalind picked up the remaining puzzle pieces and fitted them neatly into place. “The Play button on the video machine has a tendency to stick, so I'll be sure it's not jamming. There's nothing more horrifying than being trapped in a roomful of kids all psyched up to see movies and having the projector break.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“It can be.”

With a laugh and a wave, Rosalind left. Eleanor retreated to the office she now shared with two other librarians, who were currently at lunch. She was just starting to make a dent in the stack of professional journals on her desk when she heard a familiar voice.

Eleanor peeked around the corner of the opened office door and saw the library director headed toward her.

Good,
Eleanor thought. The director had mentioned earlier in the morning that a new volunteer would be starting today. It looked like she would now be able to get that person started on a few basic projects before the campers arrived.

“I was hoping I'd find you here,” a no-nonsense female voice declared. “I've brought someone down for you to meet.”

Eleanor turned away from the material she had been sorting with a ready smile on her lips for the woman who had been so kind and supportive when she'd needed it most.

“This is our newest volunteer, who specifically requested work in the children's department,” the director continued. “Joshua Barton, meet Eleanor Graham.”

The director stepped aside and the smile on Eleanor's face instantly disappeared.
It couldn't be!
But of course it was. Looking tall, commanding, and impossibly handsome. For a brief instant she fought the impulse to break into nervous giggles.

When it became obvious Eleanor wasn't going to be speaking anytime soon, Joshua broke the awkward silence.

“How are you, Eleanor?”

“I've been better, Joshua.”

The director's eyebrows rose. “Do you two already know each other?”

Eleanor could feel her face burning. “Did Mr. Barton fail to mention that I used to work for his company? For nearly six years. Then one day I was rather unexpectedly fired.”

“No, he did not mention it,” the director replied. She glanced suspiciously at Joshua. “Is that going to present a problem for you, Eleanor?”

“Not at all.” She straightened her spine and cinched the belt on her dress a little tighter. “It will be a refreshing role reversal, having Mr. Barton under my supervision. Unless he has a problem with the arrangement?”

She looked him directly in the eyes. He was smiling, but she could see a small muscle dancing in the corner of his mouth. Good. It was about time someone let him know he couldn't command everything in his path like some demented dictator.

The library director regarded them thoughtfully. “If you're sure this is acceptable, then I'll leave you to get started. Call me if you need anything, Eleanor. Anything at all.”

Eleanor managed to hold onto her pleasant facial expression until the director left. Then she turned to Joshua.

“What kind of joke are you playing now?” Eleanor asked, leveling an accusing finger at his broad chest.

“Please, give me a minute,” Joshua replied, with a lazy, half-formed grin that was so sexy and intimate it made Eleanor's knees weaken. “I'm still trying to shake off the mental image of being under you.”

“My God, is that all you ever think about?” Eleanor asked tersely.

“Not at all. Other positions intrigue me, too.”

Thankfully he didn't elaborate, but his smoldering grin filled with sexual promise had Eleanor squirming with embarrassment.

“I want to see you, Eleanor. You keep refusing my invitations to dinner. To lunch. For coffee.” Joshua crinkled his nose. “And as much as I look forward to and enjoy our nightly phone conversations, they just aren't enough.”

Eleanor flushed scarlet, remembering the sexual nature of their phone call last night. She tried to hold herself rigid, but the memories made that impossible. With just the power of his words and the timbre of his voice he had created visual images that made her feel passion and excitement.

She had spent a sleepless night, restless, unsettled, her mind and heart filled with an unbearable sense of longing.

“Becoming a volunteer for the library is hardly a viable solution,” she insisted.

He folded his arms across his chest, regarding her with a look that she swore was amusement. “You aren't giving me many options. Volunteering at the library for a few hours a week will at least give me an opportunity to see you. It sure beats the heck out of becoming a stalker, which was my second choice.”

Eleanor stared at him. “It's hard to be inconspicuous stalking someone while you're being squired around in a chauffeur-driven Bentley,” she said dryly.

“Give me some credit.” He gave her such a long, exaggerated look of despair, she knew he was teasing. “I would never involve my staff in an illegal activity. I drove myself to the library today.”

Eleanor bit her lip to keep the smile from forming on her lips. She would not be amused, nor charmed by him. With determination she walked toward the windows that faced the parking lot and looked out, scanning the neat rows of cars. “Red Ferrari, right? I stand corrected. You'd make an excellent stalker, completely inconspicuous in that sports car.”

“You're not listening. Stalking was my second choice. I haven't done it yet.” His expression turned hopeful. “If you want, I can give it a try.”

She almost gasped as another slow, sexy smile of delight crossed his face. The rat. There was nothing worse than a handsome, virile man who knew how potent his sex appeal could be.

“No thanks.” She returned to her desk and started busying herself with a stack of papers. He was right on her heels, like an annoying car salesman.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Go home,” Eleanor answered automatically.

“I can't do that. I've agreed to work and I intend to honor my commitment.”

“Stop being ridiculous,” Eleanor said scornfully. “Our volunteers are usually teenagers who need to do community service for their church or school, or retired seniors who want something useful to occupy some of their free time.”

Joshua bristled. “I can have just as much civic pride as anyone else.”

“Oh, please.” Eleanor rolled her eyes. “You don't live in this community. You don't even live in this state. How much civic pride can you possibly have? Why don't you write out a big fat check instead? I'm sure the library could put the funds to good use.”

“I'd be pleased to make a donation,” Joshua replied smoothly. “But that won't change my mind about the volunteer work. I'm staying.”

Eleanor nearly screamed and stomped her foot, all the while itching to hurl something big and heavy directly at his head. She felt completely frustrated. Flattered more than she would ever admit by this attention, this persistence, yet totally confused by it, too. But worst of all, she was feeling utterly powerless.

“You're breaking the rules,” she hissed at him.

A frown creased his brow. “I didn't know there were any.”

She gave him her best cut-out-the-crap stare, then started shifting from foot to foot when he didn't even flinch. It took her aback for a moment. There was something vaguely disturbing about his even-tempered manner in the face of her anger. It made her want to push and prod him until he reacted as she expected. But nothing she said or did seemed to set him off.

“There is no relationship between us,” Eleanor said firmly. Joshua's calm persistence was fraying her already taut nerves. “I've already explained my feelings and reasons. They haven't changed.”

His chiseled features clouded. “Your reasons are a bunch of bull and I'm not buying it. I plan on using any means necessary to change your mind. Haven't you ever heard the expression, ‘All's fair in love and war'?”

“This is neither,” she huffed, crossing her arms defensively.

“It sure feels like a war from this side.” Joshua stiffened, his set expression emphasizing his determination. “You refuse to go out with me, and if this is the only way I can spend time with you, then this is what I'll do.”

Eleanor threw up her hands in disgust. There would be no changing his mind. Fine. If he wanted to work there, then so be it. Her eyes seethed with the frustration of all the emotions she couldn't put into words, but she commanded herself to let them go.

Compressing her lips, she glanced at his clothes. He wasn't wearing a suit or a tie, but the neatly pressed slacks and cotton shirt were equally inappropriate for this environment.

So he thinks he wants to work here?
She smiled grimly, wondering how enthusiastic he would be when some child accidentally dropped glue on those expensive leather shoes.

“If you won't listen to reason, there's nothing else I can say or do,” Eleanor retorted ungraciously, barely managing to stop short of glowering.

She normally wasn't such a surly loser, but she was getting sick and tired of Joshua always getting his way. This was precisely the sort of problem, she contended, that made a relationship between them impossible.