Natural Born Daddy (18 page)

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Authors: Sherryl Woods

BOOK: Natural Born Daddy
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Kelly swallowed hard and nodded. “It changes things, complicates them.”

“Or enhances them,” he suggested quietly. “Sweet pea, we can take this slow, if that's what you want. I know I pushed hard for you to make this decision. I hardly gave you any time at all to think, probably because I was afraid you'd say no if you really thought it over. If you're not ready to make love, we'll settle into being married awhile first.”

His understanding made her want to weep. He was being so damned nice, so
reasonable.
Perversely, she wanted to smack him. Why wasn't he sweeping her off her feet, using his considerable experience to seduce her?

“Don't you want…” she began uncertainly, all of her fears crashing down on her and filling her with dread.

Shock spread across his face as he apparently realized what she was most afraid of. He reached for her then and pulled her into his arms. The gesture
alone began to dispel her doubts, but it wasn't enough. She waited, breath caught in her throat, to hear what he had to say.

“Of course, I want to make love,” he reassured her. “I've been wanting to for weeks now. Do you know how many times I've left here aching for you?” He took her hand and pressed it lightly against his arousal. “See, that's what being close to you does to me. I seem to have developed this craving for touching you.”

Stunned by the discovery that Jordan really did want her, Kelly's irrational fears fled as rapidly as they'd escalated. Panic gave way to frantic desire. She twisted to face him and cupped his face in her hands. Her thumbs skimmed over the faint stubble on his cheeks, relishing the rough texture that she'd yearned for so long to feel.

“It will be okay, won't it?” she asked, a note of pleading in her voice.

“More than okay,” he promised. “This marriage of ours is going to last forever and it's going to be filled with passion and laughter. I'm going to make you happy, Kelly.”

She smiled at the determination she heard in his voice. “You already have,” she whispered against his lips. “You already have.”

* * *

With Kelly snuggled next to him on the sofa, still wearing the wedding dress that had once been her mother's, Jordan felt more serene, more complete than he had in months, maybe even years.

He understood the doubts and uncertainties that had assailed her after everyone had left. Her lousy
marriage had robbed her of the confidence she'd once had in spades. He intended to give it back to her.

Admittedly, though, he'd had his own moment of panic earlier, when he'd seen her coming down the stairs in a swirl of silk and lace. The tomboy he'd grown up with, the best friend he'd always relied on had been transformed into a fairy-tale princess, just as Dani had confided to him seconds before her mother had appeared.

The hope and trust he'd seen shining in Kelly's eyes at that moment had frightened him. What if he couldn't be the husband she deserved? What if his impulsive decision to claim her for himself shortchanged her? He'd been thinking mostly of himself when he'd proposed marriage. He'd tired of the chase, of the unceasing test of wills with women he never seemed to understand. He'd been anxious to settle down. Most of all, he'd wanted to do that with someone he knew and understood, someone uncomplicated.

From that instant on, however, he'd discovered that Kelly was perhaps the most complicated of any of the women he'd ever known and his feelings for her were far more complex than he'd ever imagined. When she'd appeared before him in her wedding gown, a vision of unexpectedly fragile loveliness, he'd wondered for the space of a heartbeat what he'd gotten himself into, if he was up to the challenge of making her happy.

And then she had been beside him, her hand tucked trustingly in his and he had known not another second's doubt. He smiled to himself, satisfied that the gut instinct that often led him to take quick,
decisive action in business had served him well in choosing a mate.

She stirred slightly in his arms, drawing his attention to the way her breasts shifted against his chest. Her wedding dress was hiked well up her shapely calves.

He thought again of her misplaced doubts and smiled to himself. Oh, he wanted her all right! For days now he'd been able to think of little else but making her his. He'd wanted to caress and explore and inflame. He'd wanted her to come apart beneath him and he wanted to see the flare of excitement and satisfaction in her eyes. He wanted to discover all of the facets to this woman, who'd suddenly become so incredibly intriguing to him, so sweetly, unexpectedly desirable.

“Jordan?”

“Hmm?”

“This is nice.”

“What is?”

“Sitting like this, with your arms around me.”

Nice? It was killing him. “Aren't you hot with that dress on?” He'd stripped off his tuxedo jacket and tie long ago, but the room still felt stifling to him. To be honest, though, maybe the heat was emanating from him. Each time Kelly squirmed even a little, his body temperature rose another degree. Given the flush in her cheeks, she had to be feeling the same sort of heat, as well.

“I am hot,” she confirmed. “But I'm too comfortable to move.”

“What if I were to carry you upstairs?” he suggested in a choked voice.

“An interesting idea,” she replied, a teasing glint in her eyes.

“Was that a yes or a no?”

“I think a yes,” she said, then hesitated, before bestowing a tremulous smile on him. “Definitely a yes.”

Jordan's heart was suddenly beating so hard he wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly. “Now?”

“Now.”

With an eagerness that was far too telling, he scooped her into his arms. Cuddled against his chest, she looped her arms around his neck and settled her head against his shoulder. Her sweet breath fanned against his cheek. He was so stunned by the sensations spinning through him, he almost dropped her. A primitive need combined with an instinctive protectiveness swelled inside him.

Tightening his hold on her, he carried her up the stairs and headed straight for her bedroom. In the doorway, he came to a shocked and dismayed halt. The room was in chaos, filled with the scattered, feminine debris of two women and one child getting ready for a wedding.

“Whoops!” she murmured, then chuckled at the sight. “I'm sorry, Jordan. Put me down. I'll have it all cleaned up in no time.”

“Isn't there a guest room?” he asked, not even trying to hide his sense of urgency.

She grinned. “Sure there is. You know this house as well as I do, Jordan.”

“Well, then?”

“Twin beds,” she reminded him.

He groaned. “We'll manage.”

“Jordan, you're over six feet tall and I'm not exactly petite. If you think I'm sleeping in a twin bed with you, you're nuts.”

“Who's talking about sleeping?”

“Okay, doing anything with you in a twin bed. One of us is bound to topple to the floor.”

At the image she'd created, he felt a chuckle begin deep in his throat. “Exactly how energetic, are you?”

She blushed to the roots of her hair. “Jordan!”

“Okay, okay, I'll help you straighten up in here.” He reluctantly lowered her to her feet. Before she could even move, he was tossing things off the bed and onto the floor. To his sincere regret, she was trailing along behind him, picking up each item and folding it neatly before tucking it away in a drawer or closet or laundry basket.

“Do you have to do that now?” he demanded impatiently.

“Jordan, you have waited years to get me into bed. In fact, for years, you didn't appear the slightest bit interested in getting me to bed. Can't you wait a few more minutes so it will be perfect?”

He found the equation between tidiness and perfection a bit disconcerting. “As long as you don't decide to start ironing, too, I suppose I can wait.” He caught her gaze and held it. “And just so you know, I did think about getting you in bed back then. I just figured your father or mine would aim a shotgun straight at my backside if I did. I thought I was displaying admirable restraint in treating you like a lady.”

She grinned at him, obviously pleased by the discovery that she had the upper hand over him in
this. In fact, she looked downright smug all of a sudden.

“Go downstairs and find some candles,” she ordered every bit as imperiously as her daughter might have.

“It's still daylight.”

“Twilight,” she corrected. “It'll be dark soon and I want candles.”

He sighed. “Anything else?”

“Bring back the wine, too.”

“Got it,” he said, heading out the door.

“And some flowers,” she called after him. “Lots and lots of flowers.”

He poked his head back into the room. “You're enjoying this, aren't you?”

“What?” she inquired with a look somewhere between pure innocence and very feminine satisfaction.

“Tormenting me.”

“Is that what I'm doing?”

“Yes, dammit,” he shot back, but there was little venom in his voice.

He actually found her playfulness another delicious surprise. The delay was tantalizing. As if he didn't already want her badly enough, his body was practically throbbing with need now. There was no way she could possibly have any doubts at all, after this, about how hungry he was for her. Torment was a small price to pay for reassuring her on that point.

To even the score just a little, though, he took his own sweet time to gather up the candles, flowers and wine she'd requested. Let her stew a little, too, he thought as he finally made his way back upstairs. If
the sexual tension mounted another notch or two, they would probably burst into flames on contact.

Back upstairs, at the doorway to the room, he came to a screeching halt for the second time that evening, stunned by the sight in front of him.

She had used the time very efficiently. Not only was the mess cleared away, but she had somehow managed to shed her wedding gown and exchange it for a filmy white negligee that skimmed over her curves, revealing details about her body he'd only imagined before. Her back was to him, the fading light from outside just enough to enhance the intriguing vision before him.

“Dear heaven,” he murmured, stunned into immobility. His throat went dry.

Turning to look at him over her shoulder, she gave him the kind of soft, knowing smile women had been bestowing on infatuated men for eons. It sent a shudder of pure desire sweeping through him.

“I thought you were beautiful before, but I was wrong,” he said in a strangled voice. “You are magnificent.”

Surprisingly, the comment drew a look of uncertainty. “You don't have to say that.”

“I do,” he insisted, hastily setting flowers, wine and candles on the nightstand beside the bed and reaching for her. “You are magnificent.”

She came into his arms without hesitation, fitting her body to his with an eagerness that turned his breathing ragged. Her anxious fingers worked at the studs on his shirt. As it came open, she pressed hot, quick kisses against his bared chest. The touch of velvet soft lips and warm breath sent his pulse spinning wildly.

“Whoa,” he murmured. “Slow down, sweetheart. We have all night.”

He glanced into her eyes then and read more than desire there. He detected once again that uncertainty and realized that until he claimed her in a rush of uncensored passion, she would be filled with doubts. About him. About whatever seeds of uncertainty Paul had planted in her brain with his shabby treatment of her.

There would be time enough later for long, slow, deliberately sensual seduction, for discovery. There were years ahead of them for lazy caresses and deep, passionate kisses. Thousands of nights lay before them, nights of sultry breezes and whispered exchanges as they learned intimate secrets about each other's body.

When her trembling fingers reached for the button on his pants, he helped her, shucking them off along with his briefs, after kicking aside his shoes.

Pulling her tightly against his hard, anxious body, he tumbled carefully onto the bed with her. He rolled her on top of him as they fell, exulting in the natural fit of soft curves and hard angles.

He never took his eyes from hers, not when his hands skimmed over her full, sensitive breasts, not when her hands reached for his aroused manhood. He saw the moment when her eyes darkened with passion, saw the instant of surprise when he fit his body to hers, entering her with a hard, fast stroke that had her gasping and her hips lifting to meet each thrust.

And he witnessed in the depths of her eyes the precise second when her body shattered in a climax that rocked them both. The satisfaction that streaked
through him then, the wonder of giving her pleasure, was like a miracle. He'd had no idea that making love could be like this.

She was still panting, still exhilarated when he took her on another, slower climb that had her eyes widening with astonishment and then pure delight as they reached the pinnacle together and dove off into yet another whirlwind of sensation more magnificent than anything Jordan had ever experienced before.

He wasn't sure which was more heady, watching Kelly reach the heights of joy or sharing it with her. Together, they brought him immense gratification.

Eventually, exhausted and satiated, he settled Kelly more tightly against his body, his arms around her waist, her head resting on his chest.

She was certainly full of surprises, this woman he'd married. Once again, he indulged in a moment of smug satisfaction with his decision making. Obviously it was possible to use cool logic when choosing a bride. The passion they'd just shared reinforced his confidence.

Kelly propped herself up on her elbow and stared down at him. Her fingers tangled in the hair on his chest, then skimmed over bare, still damp skin.

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

“About us,” he replied without hesitation.

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