For the Love of You (9 page)

Jewel sipped her wine.

“That showing in New York was, what, five, seven years ago?”

Her eyes jumped to his face. She swallowed and reached for her glass. “Why?”

Craig angled his head. “You haven't been on the scene since.” He'd looked her up, read about her rise in the art world and her monumental fall, the scathing reviews and the follow-up stories about how she was finished and how, almost like a self-fulfilling prophesy, she'd disappeared.

“Your point?”

“Why?”

“It doesn't matter why. That was then. I've moved on. Let's leave it at that.”

“The reviews were pretty vicious,” he continued, undeterred by her stonewalling. “Was that it?”

Her expression hardened. She set down her fork and looked him in the eyes. “Let's just say it was the perfect storm of events. I made a decision, and I've lived with it. End of story.”

“I work with actors every day, some of the best. I can spot a poorly acted scene a mile away.
That
was a poorly acted scene.”

“What difference does it make?” Her voice rose. “Why do you care one way or the other?” Her eyes were wide.

He placed his palms down on the table and looked directly at her. “Because if I'm going to get myself involved with a woman that I am crazy attracted to... I want to know who she is.” That was only partially true. For the most part, a woman's backstory didn't mean much for him. He rarely cared, but in this case he did. He wanted to know the real Jewel Fontaine.

Jewel bit down on her bottom lip. She turned her head and stared off into the tranquil night. A sparrow landed on the top branch of the tree, and the first splash of stars sprinkled across the sky.

“The reviews were only a part of it,” she said quietly. “My artistic sensibilities were another,” she said, attempting to sound cavalier.

“As artists we're always going to be scrutinized and criticized for what we do. It's part of the game. Some critics live for the opportunity to tear an artist apart to satisfy their own lack of ability.”

“I know that in a cerebral sense, but here—” she tapped her chest “—here's a different story.”

Craig drew in a breath. He knew all too well what it felt like to be torn apart by the press, to have your work trampled on and dismissed. It was deeply personal, like having someone you love hurt. It was difficult enough when it was strangers, people who didn't give a damn about you as person. But when it came from those who professed to care about you, that was a whole different kind of hurt. So yeah, he understood, but he also knew that you had to dust yourself off and keep moving.

“I know me and you are totally different. Everybody deals with their stuff in their own way. All I'm saying is a true artist, a creator never lets that go, because when they do a part of them dies inside. And on that note, I'll leave it alone.” He held up his hand. “Promise.”

“Thank you,” she said softly.

Craig refilled her glass and then his own.

“So, tell me how you wound up selecting my home all the way from London.”

He chuckled. “It was actually a pretty long process. We'd been looking for a location for about six months...” While they finished off their meal, he went on to tell her about the myriad of homes and locations his team had gone through in several parts of the country until Paul Frazier finally found hers. “The minute I saw it, I knew this was the place.”

“What were you going to do if I'd stuck to my guns and said no?”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “In this business you always have a fallback plan. We had another potential location, but I was determined to convince you to change your mind.”

“You're very persuasive.”

“One of my many talents.”

“Is the list of talents long?”

“And varied.”

They laughed at the double entendre.

“I want to show you something,” Jewel said, pushing back from the table. She grabbed the bottle of wine and her glass.

“Sure.” He followed her off the veranda to the cottage behind the house.

“Hold these a sec.” She handed him the bottle and her glass then unlocked the door. She flipped on the light switch.

Craig walked in behind Jewel then stepped past her and into the studio. He reverently touched the completed works and works in progress, the sculptures and the tools of her trade. He turned toward her.

“These are some of the pieces from New York.”

“Hmm.” She folded her arms. “A testament of sorts.”

He continued to examine the works. “You were ahead of your time. It happens with all great artists.” He leaned against the wall. “And the others?”

“Some ideas I had that never materialized.”

“So you have been keeping up with your art?”

She heaved a sigh. “Actually, I haven't. I stuck these in here ages ago and haven't been back here...until today. Minerva...the housekeeper, unbeknownst to me, was maintaining the space.”

“You had no idea what she was doing?”

“Not a clue.” She sputtered a laugh. “She told me today that she was going to donate some of my art supplies to the local school and that I should come here and see what I wanted to keep. This is what I found,” she added with a sweep of her hand.

“What did you decide?”

She crossed the room and sat on the cushy love seat. “I decided to keep everything.”

“Will you paint again?”

“It's been so long.”

“You never lose it, you know. It's like riding a bike. You just have to get back on and start peddling.”

“Humph, easier said.”

“Why did you bring me here, Jewel?”

She linked her fingers together and looked across at him. “I'm not sure, really.”

“I think you know.” He came to sit beside her.

“I spent so much time here,” she said thoughtfully. “Hours, days on end when I was in the middle of creating a new piece.” She smiled. “My dad finally had a bed and couch put in so that he wouldn't find me sleeping on the floor in the morning.” She looked around. “This space represents my past.”

“It can be your future if you let it.” He pursed his lips in contemplation, leaned forward and rested his arms on his thighs. “Look, I'm not in any position to tell you what to do. What I can tell you is that when you're given a gift—and you've been given a gift—it's damn near a sin to misuse it or to keep it for yourself.”

“Is that what you told yourself when you walked away from your family?”

He flinched, looked away then back at her. “Yes. It was,” he finally said, the day of that decision racing through is mind. “I had a choice to make—my happiness or live in the shadow of someone else's happiness for me.”

Jewel looked away. “Are you satisfied with your life based on what you had to give up?”

Craig exhaled and leaned against the back of the couch. “I won't BS you and say that there haven't been moments when I questioned myself. And it's not always easy for me to accept what I left behind in order to move forward. But I do know that if I hadn't done it, I would always second-guess myself. I would be miserable and I would blame...him for my misery.”

Jewel angled her body on the couch so that she could face him and then tucked one leg beneath her. She sipped her wine. “Not handing all this over to Minerva's church and the local school, I suppose, is some kind of decision, in a way.”

Craig looked at her and chuckled. “Yeah, kinda, sorta. It's a start.” He touched his glass to hers. His expression sobered. “To starting something new.”

“Something new,” she whispered.

Craig put his glass down on the table and turned toward her. He reached out and tucked a curl away from her eye. “You're not like anyone I've known,” he said as if realizing that idea for the first time.

“I hope that's a good thing,” she said. Her voice quavered ever so slightly.

“I think so.” He moved closer and plucked her glass from her hand and set it next to his. “I think that maybe this
exploration
that you mentioned is worth investigating.” He leaned closer and cupped her chin, bringing her close to him. “You still good with that?” he asked against her lips.

* * *

Jewel's pulse thundered in her veins. There was still time to back out. All she had to do was move away gracefully. “Very good with that,” she said instead and welcomed the pillow of his lips.

His strong arms slid around her and pulled her as close as their sitting positions would allow. His fingers stroked the curve of her spine, sending shock waves along her limbs.

Jewel moaned when his thumbs brushed along the undersides of her breasts then down the curve of her waist to her hips.

The burst of flavors from their meal was heightened by the wine as their tongues touched, danced and melded together.

Craig deepened the kiss before easing away to nibble along the column of her neck and in the V of her dress. Jewel's body quivered in response, and her breathing stopped and started.

This was so unlike her. She was always deliberate and thoughtful about getting involved. But Craig Lawson had her thinking and feeling all out of her comfort zone. Her head spun, and her body simmered. All she knew for sure was that she wanted Craig to keep stoking the flames.

Craig groaned deep in his throat. He eased back and stood. He took her hands and pulled her to her feet. “Are you sure you want this?” he rasped before dropping a hot kiss at the base of her throat.

Jewel's body shuddered. A million reasons why she shouldn't zipped through her head, but the one reason why she should beat them all to the finish line: she wanted to be reminded what it felt like to make love to a virile sexy, hot man that she couldn't stop thinking about. She wanted to feel his bare skin. She wanted his hands on her body, his body in hers. She wanted to reclaim her woman power.

“Yes,” she whispered.

He looked into her eyes one last time before he possessed her mouth. He gathered her and held her tightly against him.

Jewel gasped at the erotic feel of his erection pressing against her belly a moment before Craig dipped lower and melded them together, pelvis to pelvis, rocking his hips against her in prelude of what was to come. He palmed her derriere and worked her to meet his undulations.

“Baby,” he groaned against her mouth. “I want you...now.” He eased the straps of her sundress off her shoulders and slid it down her body until the soft fabric pooled at her feet. “Let me look at you.” He took a step back, and his dark eyes raked over her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. He reached out with a single finger and outlined the curve of her breasts that flowed over the lilac lace that held them.

Jewel shivered. Her eyes momentarily fluttered as waves of heat flowed through her. Her inner thighs trembled when he stroked her there.

Craig lowered his head and stroked the valley of her breasts with his tongue. Jewel moaned and gripped his arms to keep on her feet. He reached behind her and unfastened the clasp, stripped her of her bra and tossed it aside. “Hmm,” he murmured and took a turgid nipple into his mouth. His mouth suckled, and his tongue laved and teased, sending shock waves through her limbs.

Jewel grabbed the back of his head and held him in place, tossing her head back in ecstasy.

Craig turned them around slowly and backed her up toward the overstuffed full-size bed, nibbling and licking her exposed flesh in the process.

Jewel tumbled back onto the bed and looked up at him. The fierce heat and unrelenting determination in his gaze terrified as much as it thrilled her. There was no turning back now.

Craig tugged his black V-neck sweater over his head and tossed it aside. His soft, faded jeans were next. Jewel swallowed and ran her tongue hungrily across her bottom lip when her gaze landed on the imprint of his erection bulging against his black-and-white-striped shorts. He crossed the short space that separated them and made his way to her lips, beginning with hot kisses on the inside of her ankles, up her legs and behind her knees. He nuzzled her sex, and she squirmed before he dipped his tongue into the indentation in her belly.

His hands, his mouth, his tongue seemed to be everywhere at once. Jewel's thoughts scattered like windblown leaves. All that she was capable of understanding was the incredible sensations that scored her body and ignited the blood in her veins.

Craig eased her panties over her hips and down her legs. His fingers gently stroked and primed her there, and her arousal dampened his fingers. He inched his way up the curves and valleys of her body until he was pillowed between the rise of her breasts. He covered one with his palm, the other he taunted with his tongue until Jewel writhed and moaned beneath him.

She didn't know when or how, but Craig had sheathed himself and positioned his weight above her. He tenderly brushed the riot of curls away from her face and caressed her cheek. He pushed her thighs apart with a sweep of his knee and rose up on his own. The heat of his eyes moved over her face. She'd never wanted anything as much as she wanted him in that moment.

Jewel looped her hands behind his head and bent her knees. Craig pushed forward, finding her wet, open and ready. She sucked in a lungful of air as the pressure of his entry began to fill her. Her heart pounded, and she bit down on her lip to keep from crying out. It didn't work. The symphony of desire sang from the center of her being as he buried himself deep within her, hovering there to allow them both to savor that first moment.

Jewel whimpered. Her body shook as he began to move, slow and deep and steady. Bright lights flashed behind her closed lids. Waves of need raced through her. She found his rhythm and met him stroke for stroke, raising and lowering her hips in time with his thrusts.

Craig was lost on a ride of pure pleasure. Part of him wanted to pound away, take it all now, fast, and satisfy the raging need that fueled his every movement. The other part of him wanted this feeling to last forever. He could stay there forever, cocooned in her wet heat that suckled and milked him every time he moved. But as much as he wanted this to be eternity, he felt the steady building in the heaviness of his sac, the pulsing and thickening of his cock.