Embraceable You (Irish Hearts Series) (11 page)

His kisses seduced her. Or maybe she was doing the seducing. She didn’t care. She only wanted one thing right now, one person to love her. Only Zach. She wanted him touching her, exploring her, wanting her completely. Now.

His body shifted, one leg slid between hers, pressing hard. He moved his hips in a slow, sensuous dance. She followed his lead. Then he covered her mouth with his, licking, sipping, savoring, kissing until she was breathless and he was breathing hard. Hard all over.

She swayed in the strength of his power. Their bodies stroked each other creating a sizzling heat that wouldn’t be denied.

He lifted her breasts with both hands and kissed their slopes. Then his lips teased her nipples until they ached with hard desire.

He moved his knee from between her thighs and replaced it with his hand, holding her tightly. She gasped and squeezed against him. He was hard and hot against her. If they didn’t move somewhere soon, Siena thought she might just melt like a candle right there. She had never felt such strong desire, nor wanted a man as much as she wanted Zach. Right now.

She reached for him, touched him, and caressed him intimately. With a groan, he started pulling off his sweater. "This is our time, Siena. Just us."

Siena laughed, slightly nervous, and tugged at her own sweater.

Zach eagerly helped Siena with her sweater, kissing her breasts while removing her bra. "Let’s move. Over here." He pulled her away from the doorway and picked her up in his arms. He swung her feet around and stumbled to the back of the store, away from the show window.

Siena had visions of them sweeping up the stairs, Rhett Butler style. She clung to him and as he lifted her easily, moving recklessly through the shop until her feet knocked into something that scattered all over the floor. It sounded like tiny plastic bowling pins. Ping-ping-ping.

He stopped. "Oh damn, what was that?"

She couldn’t help laughing, even though he was probably destroying her miserable merchandise. "It sounds like the sunglasses. Put me down before you destroy everything."

"I can’t let you go." He walked gingerly, trying to avoid stepping on the sunglasses, but there were a few telltale crunches.

Then they were kissing against a stack of colorful, hand-made quilts and tumbling, along with the quilts, to the floor. They laughed and flung off the rest of their clothes. His hand accidentally hit the rack of masks and the feathered, sequined ornaments rained down on them. She grabbed a mask and put it on, then did a funny naked dance for him.

He found a pair of large-lens sunglasses and leaned back, hands behind his head, watching her antics with delight. Finally, he pulled her over him. "Who is this masked lady?"

"Who is this soul man in sun glasses?" She kissed his chest.

His lips claimed hers and he stretched her along his bare body. "Ah yes, it’s Siena . . . my Siena . . . the Siena of my dreams."

She kissed him back. They would not make it up the stairs tonight, but she didn’t care. She only wanted him, wanted to please him, wanted to have him to herself.

They dissolved in a long and luscious kiss. She relaxed completely as he caressed the length of her back, then slipped his thumbs over her nipples, teasing them to aching alertness.

Siena swirled in sensual pleasures. Her skin tingled from his touch. Her lips were numb from his kisses. Her breasts ached as his hands loved them, his thumbs keeping the tips firm. She felt searing heat from the pit of her stomach down to the warm and moist juncture of her thighs. And she ached for him to be there. She struggled to speak. "Be. There. Now."

When she touched him, he filled her hand with hot strength and she stroked him, begging for him. "Now Zach . . ."

With a low groan, he rolled them. No longer was Zach gentle and sweet as caramel kisses. Now he was a man with one desire - strong, assertive, and passionate. There was no hesitation, no holding back. And Siena loved every minute. Every inch. This was her Zach, her fantasy come to life, here to take her completely.

She opened to him, wrapped her legs around his back, and arched to meet his hot power. He pushed deep inside her, thrusting hard with no hesitation.

"Come on, go with me Siena." He started to move inside her, slowly at first. Then faster and faster. She joined his ride, pushing and arching and moaning her pleasure.

They flew into a heated frenzy with suppressed squeals and muffled moans. They reached the exploding pinnacle together, both working to preserve the ecstasy as long as possible. Minutes passed and expanded. In satisfied stillness, they stayed together until exhaustion overwhelmed them and they dozed.

Later, they made love again, this time more slowly and gently and with all the sweet passion they had saved for each other over the years. 

Siena slept in Zach’s arms, dreaming of more. Caramel kisses and sugar snow and masculine strength and . . . yes Zach wrapped around her forever.

When she woke
sometime in the wee hours, he was gone. Siena grabbed her clothes and headed upstairs, wondering when she would see him again. And if she could bear to wait. 

The cats greeted her at the top of the stairs with angry glares.

"Whaaaat?" She moved past them and fell into bed.

The next morning, a loud pounding on the shop door interrupted her dreams. Siena groaned as she pushed up on her elbows. This was one distinct disadvantage to living above the shop. Too close to the business and for any kind of privacy. Harry and Sally hopped onto the foot of the bed and gave her accusing cat-stares.

She quickly pulled on a pair of sweats and a loose sweatshirt, thinking it might be the Lacy Ladies again. But today was Monday, and they weren’t due until Wednesday. The door pounding continued.

Siena bounded downstairs behind the curious cats. The place was a wreck. Sunglasses were scattered and crunched all over the floor. The feathered masks looked like they had taken flight and landed hither and yon. The stack of quilts had tumbled against the wall and one still held the shape of two hot bodies that became one last night. She grabbed a pair of black panties dangling from the beak of a carved water bird standing on one foot. She tossed them behind the counter before opening the door to a distinguished-looking white-haired man in a gray overcoat. He looked like an angry bird. A gray-crested puffabee. She smiled at that.

He elbowed inside. "Good Morning, Miss Summerfield. I am Walter Fairchild."

Siena tried to remember if she’d met him, but figured with the last name of Fairchild, she must have met at least one of his relatives. Oh yes. Claire, of the Lacy Ladies was a Fairchild. "Good morning, Mr. Fairchild."

He nodded curtly, glanced around the wreckage in the shop, then back to her. It was quite obvious he was trying not to focus on her bosom or her braless chest. She was tempted to say,
We’ve all got them, Walter, so quit staring at the nipples. It isn’t polite,
but instead she muttered, "The shop isn’t open yet sir."

"It looks like the wreck of the Hesperus in here." Walter Fairchild adjusted his collar and arched his neck. "I’m here to inform you that you must remove that
. . . that thing from the window. She’s been there all week causing havoc, especially since you weren’t even here and the shop was closed. It’s a disgrace to your blessed aunt and downright obscene."

"What thing?" Puzzled, she looked in the direction that he gestured. "Are you talking about Venus?" she asked innocently.

"That thing has a name?" he sputtered.

"Yes sir, she belonged to Aunt Addie, who named her, in honor of the beautiful Venus de Milo. I like to think it honors my aunt to showcase Venus."

He cleared his throat loudly. "I won’t have her – it, that figure - in my . . . er, in this town. I know this violates our city ordinance about prudence, and I shall pursue this to the letter of the laws of our fair city if you don’t remove her immediately. My cousin's son is a lawyer."

"Prudence?" She hadn’t heard that word in, well, forever. "What kind of havoc did she create, sir?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You said she caused havoc while I was gone, and I was wondering what kind of havoc a quiet little mannequin could possibly cause in a closed shop in a snow-bound town in Maine."

"Why, there were people clamoring every day to get inside, to see the darned thing!"

"Maybe they wanted to buy some lace. Or lighthouses."

"If you’re saying they wanted to strip her --" He sputtered to a halt.

Siena grinned. She was thrilled to learn from the least expected source that there had been potential customers while she was gone. And all because of a scantily clad piece of wood, a well-carved tease in the window. "Good. That’s the point. To bring people into the shop. To, hopefully, buy stuff. And to sell this lace. I’d gladly strip her."

"Young lady, you’ll have to draw customers another way than with that nude woman in the window."

"She’s not nude. She has on lace – "

He waved one hand to quiet Siena, but she kept talking.

"You know, lace and lingerie go together naturally. The lace that the local women make is exquisite. Delicate and intricate. Not at all like –"

"Please!" Walt was so angry he was shivering. "Shut up, woman! I noticed that you have those mermaids above the door. I told Addie long ago to get rid of them. And she – " He stopped long enough to sputter. "And now I’m telling you – get rid of them! They’re vulgar. And bad luck for fishermen. They’re downright destructive to our society."

Siena leaned forward as if she couldn’t hear properly. "Destructive? They’re mythological, not even real. That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever hear of."

Walt straightened and pointed a finger at her. "We’ll see who’s crazy, young lady! You’d better do something about that offensive object you call Venus or the sheriff will see you about indecency! And while you’re at it, get rid of those damned mermaids above the door. They’re not welcome here."

Siena stood up and propped both hands on her hips. "What are you talking about, Walt? Venus is not indecent! Nothing’s showing. And these mermaids are a work of art." Siena realized that she was defending art objects to an idiotic old man. But it was more than that. It was the principle of freedom. And what’s right. "Furthermore, they have seaweed hiding their nipples! You can’t see a blinkin’ thing!"

"I will see you again, young lady. In court, if I have to. You will not come into this town and destroy everything decent with your high falutin' ideas." Walt slammed the door and the old-fashioned bell clanged one last time and fell to the floor. 

Siena balled up her fists with the sudden urge to pound the old guy to the ground. She took several intentional deep breaths and looked around the shop. In the show window, Venus glowed, her proud bust lifted high. She was discrete but sensuous, in her lacy, sexy gown. So what the hell was wrong with that?

Siena started picking up the broken sunglasses. Then she smiled to herself. "What did I get out of this? Passion, for sure. Maybe incentive and a new purpose."

Siena turned to Venus and straightened a lace strip across the bosom. "How lovely you look, Venus darling. And where did you acquire your beautiful lace gown? Oh, at
that fabulous shop,
Amazing Lace
?" She moved around, animated and still burning with anger at all that Walt had thrown at her.

"I hope you’ll send all of your friends here when they need . . . a lift of lace
. . . to keep things in place. . . a nice little something made of satin and lace . . . for the girls. . . " She looked up at the mermaid stained glass above the door and started giggling. "Something for the girls, the mermaids of the lingerie salon."

She adjusted the frilly bodice on Venus. "No offense dear, but you’re no lightweight. It’s all that heavy wood. In fact, I don’t think I could move you by myself even if I wanted to, which I don’t. I think you look just lovely here in the showcase window."

She patted the wood. "Remember, full-figured girls like you – and me - need complete support . . . special lingerie. Intimate apparel designed specifically for us . . . in satin and lace." Something clicked in Siena’s brain – right then - and she knew . . . or she thought she knew. . . that just
maybe
. . . this was it, or close to it. She’d stumbled onto something that just might work to save the shop. And if not, what the hell would she lose? She had nothing else going.

Siena had no intention of moving Venus, dressed in her see-through, come-hither lace, from the front show window. And she certainly wasn’t removing the stain-glass mermaids above the door just because Walt thought they were bad luck.

She would have a face-to-face-meeting the mayor, Hizhonor Zach Cassidy, who’d left his DNA traces on a quilt in her shop last night. She'd see who had clout around here. She would demand that ole’ Walt to cease and desist from harassing her. A court order, if necessary. Who the hell did he think he was, anyway, this Walter Fairchild?

She started back upstairs, then sprinted to catch her ringing phone. "Yes? Oh, hi Dana."

"Baby, guess what!"

Siena vacillated between 'what' and 'what now?'

In the quiet space, Dana answered. "I've got a BLOG!"