One Night With You (5 page)

Jake, seemingly no more aware of anyone else than she was, opened the door to the hotel room and stepped back, motioning for her to enter first. The door clicked behind them, a strangely final sound.

They were alone.

Jake moved away from her as they entered the room, dropping his carryon to the seat of a chair, casually removing his jacket and tossing it over the back of another, reaching out to switch on a bedside lamp. As she stood there, watching him, Desi felt a faint twinge of uneasiness, her only one since that first embarrassed moment of their meeting on the plane. Not at being in his room and not at her reason for being there. She was not in the least uneasy or unsure about that. She had never been surer of anything in her life. But...

What now
? she wondered vaguely.
Am I supposed to just rip off my clothes and fling myself on the bed? Do I wait for him to make the first move?

She didn't know the protocol for a situation like this, and she stood a little awkwardly in the middle of the room waiting for him to give her a clue as to how they should proceed.

Jake reached out and took her satchel and carryon from her, dropping them in the chair next to his. She looked up at him, her blue eyes wide with eagerness and trust and just the tiniest bit of fear, had she but known it.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked gently. He didn't say the word "first," but it hovered there, unsaid, between them.

"No. I... No." she heard herself mumble, and thought,
maybe he wants one and that's why he asked me. Maybe a drink first is the way this sort of thing is done
. "But if you do—" her hand fluttered up distractedly to nervously touch her neck at the open collar of her shirt "—please, go ahead. I'll..." Her voice trailed off.

Wait
, was what she had been going to say, but it would have sounded so... dumb. And she couldn't think of anything else to say, not anything intelligent, with him looking at her like that, with that smoldering look in his dark eyes.

"You go ahead and have one," she said, and her hands fluttered again, moving from her neck to her hair, absently pushing at the loose tendrils as if to tuck them back into the loosely confined curls on top of her head. The upraised movement of her arms pulled her shirt, loose-fitting as it was, against the soft swell of her breasts, clearly outlining their shape and the aroused state of her nipples, like hard little buttons pushing against the confines of her shirt.

Jake made a low sound in his throat, a half-smothered groan of desire, and he reached out, gently cupping his hands around the tempting curves of her breasts, his thumbs just touching her throbbing nipples.

Desi felt herself melt at his touch and would have fallen to the floor in a trembling, molten heap, but somehow his arms were suddenly around her, holding her up, molding her shaking, eager body firmly to his.

"I don't want a drink," she heard him growl, his lips at her ear. "I want you, Desiree."

She pushed at his chest almost frantically, and his arms loosened instantly as if he thought she was trying to get away. She lifted her hands, one pale slender palm resting tenderly on either side of his strong, angular jaw. Her eyes locked with his. "I want you too, Jake," she said clearly, and offered him her parted lips.

He kissed her then—finally!—taking her offered mouth with a fevered eagerness that excited her already aroused emotions to an almost unbearable point. Her hands slipped from his face to the back of his neck, her fingers tangling in the thick brown hair that she had so longed to touch. It felt like silk against her palms just as, somehow, she had always known it would.

The feel of his hair under her hands, feeling so exactly right, made her suddenly hunger to touch him elsewhere. To run her fingers through the hair on his chest and to smooth her hands lovingly over the satin-hard muscles of his bare shoulders and back. But he was holding her too closely for that. Gently, passionately he ravaged her mouth with his teeth and tongue, while his hands burned through the barrier of her clothes, caressing her shoulders and back and, finally, cupped her small firm bottom to mold her as closely as possible to the hard arousal of his body.

Desi's fingers clenched in his hair, and she strained against him, making a small sound of unmistakable need. Jake's hands tightened on her buttocks, lifting her from the floor, and her slim legs locked themselves obligingly around his waist. He took three steps and then turned and fell backward onto the bed, taking her weight on top of his.

The short fall dislodged their lips and hands and Desi lay still for a few moments, panting lightly, her hot face hidden in the curve of his neck. She felt his hands in her hair, removing the pins, and then he smoothed it through his fingers, down her back, stroking its silken length as if she were a purring cat. Desi could feel his heart beating heavily beneath her breasts, and as she lay there with her face pressed so closely to his neck, she became aware, once more, of the faintly spicy scent of his cologne mixed, tantalizingly, with Jake's own male scent.

Her tongue snaked out experimentally to taste him, and then her lips opened to feed greedily on that vulnerable place where his neck began to curve into his broad powerful shoulders.

Jake groaned and his hand stilled on her hair. He made a movement as if to roll over, trapping her under him. But Desi sat up abruptly, her wild hair foaming over her shoulders like a coppery cloud, and he lay still, waiting to see what she would do, staring up at her with hungry passion-glazed eyes.

"Desiree," he whispered almost pleadingly after a minute when she continued to sit there silently straddling his waist.

He's so beautiful
, she was thinking, for the second time that night.
So beautiful and good and strong
. She didn't pause to wonder how she knew those things about him. She just did. He was all those things and more. And, for tonight at least, he was hers.

"What are you thinking?" he asked quietly, intrigued by the soft dreamy expression on her face.

"About how beautiful you are," she said simply.

"Good God, Desiree," he began. "Men aren't—"

"You are," she insisted, her fingers reaching out to cover his lips, "You're the most beautiful man I've ever seen." She smiled, a siren's smile of pure provocation. "And for tonight—all night—you're mine." Her hand trailed over his mouth and chin and throat to the top button of his shirt, "And I want to see more." She had the first button undone. "Much more," she said teasingly.

Slowly, then, and in a tense, tingling silence, she finished unbuttoning his shirt, running her fingers lightly over his broad furred chest as she went, and tugged it free from the waistband of his slacks. Her slim fingers hovered uncertainly over the buckle of his belt.

She could see the smooth muscles of his stomach tense in anticipation, waiting for her next move and, perversely, instead of doing what he expected her to, her hands went to the buckle of her own belt. She unbuckled it, tossing it carelessly to the floor and, in one swift movement—quickly before her courage failed her—she grasped the hem of her tunic in both hands and pulled it off over her head.

The peach-colored, lace-trimmed camisole she wore beneath her tunic, with tiny bows at the shoulders and between her breasts, was an intriguing contrast to the almost boyish appearance of her outer clothes. It served to emphasize the pale fragility of her shoulders and arms and, at the same time, to enhance the fullness of her breasts. It was as if she had been saving the real Desi, the feminine, inner Desi just for him.

Her hands went to the first bow between her breasts and pulled it loose. The look in Jake's eyes began to burn hotter. Not melting, now, or even smoldering, but a raging inferno of desire as he lay there, very still, watching her undress for him.

The look in his eyes scorched her, making her clever fingers suddenly clumsy with nervousness and trembling excitement. The second bow snarled, refusing to come undone, and Desi's hands dropped as she briefly considered pulling the garment off over her head.

"Don't stop, Desiree," he breathed raggedly. "You're driving me crazy."

"You do it," she invited him, leaning forward so that he could more easily see the tiny bows. One hand held her hair back out of the way and the other touched the middle of his broad chest lightly, balancing herself as she leaned over him.

It took several seconds—an eternity—to untangle the second bow, and she realized that his chest was heaving under her hand, as if he had run a long way, his heart thudding. A faint sheen of perspiration glistened across his powerful shoulders as he worked impatiently at the bow. Suddenly it came free under his fingers. Then there was only the third and last bow on the front of her camisole and the tiny ties on either shoulder. The silky garment slid slowly down her body as the last tie was released, revealing to his avid, hungry gaze the creamy perfection of her pale breasts with their small reddish-brown nipples puckered and straining for his touch, inviting him to explore their softness.

Jake needed no second invitation. He levered his torso up from the pillows, fastening his mouth greedily to one hardened nipple, and twisted his body so that Desi was turned onto her back beneath him. He seemed frantic, suddenly, to have her completely bare. As his lips and teeth tenderly ravaged her breasts, his hands were busy peeling her, and himself, out of the rest of their clothes.

Desi helped him as best she could; kicking off her sneakers, lifting her hips as he tugged her slacks, and then her tiny bikini panties, off her hips and down the long slender length of her legs to toss them onto the floor on top of his own clothes. She reached for him as she lay back on, grasping his forearm to bring him down on top of her.

He resisted her pull. "The condoms are in my carryon."

Her hand tightened on his arm. "We don't need condoms," she said, tugging him down to her. "I'm on the pill."

He hesitated for just a second and then slid back up her body, parting her thighs with his knees, and Desi received him into her as impatiently and eagerly and as passionately as he took her. There was no holding back for her with him. No coyness, no shyness, just an aching hunger and a desperate need to love and be loved by this man even if it was only for one night.

I love you
, she wanted to whisper to him as he moved above her.
I love you, Jake
.

The words ran like a chant through her head, remaining unsaid because she knew that it was not what he wanted to hear from her. He wanted her passion and her heat, not her love, and she did her best to turn off the words running through her mind, giving him what he wanted.

Her thoughts, her desire, her very being were all focused completely on him at that moment—and for all the moments for the rest of that long lovely night. For all the moments of what turned out to be the almost forty-eight glorious hours that followed it.

She had nearly two full days with him. Two days of heart-stopping, head-spinning passion with the man who had invaded her deepest dreams ever since the first time she had seen him, nearly six years ago.

And it was enough, she told herself sternly, determined not to cry when she woke up on that Sunday morning—alone—and found only a scrawled note and the scent of him still lingering on the empty pillow next to her to reassure her that she had not merely dreamed it all.

It had to be enough, she insisted, because it was all she was ever likely to have.

Chapter 3

"Teddie," Desi hollered, banging awkwardly on the front door with her elbow, trying to make herself heard over the music that was playing—loudly—inside. Pavarotti this morning, she noted with amusement. Nothing but the best for Teddie's plants. "Teddie, help!"

The music stopped abruptly and there was a pause, as if whoever was inside was listening to determine whether or not he had actually heard anything.

"Teddie, hurry up," she repeated into the silence. "It's me, Desi, and everything's starting to fall!"

The door swung open to reveal a slim young man in tight white jeans and a pale-yellow cashmere sweater. His white-blond hair was cut short and carefully styled, and his feet were encased in well-worn Gucci loafers. A heavy gold chain lay against his tanned neck, and he wore a chunky diamond ring on the pinkie finger of his left hand.

Only the best for Teddie, too, Desi thought, suppressing a smile at the look of annoyance on his handsome narrow face.

"You could have made two trips," Teddie said, reaching out to take one of her grocery sacks from her.

"I
am
making two trips. There's more in the car," she informed him, nodding toward the practical four-door that had recently replaced the sporty Spitfire. "Be a darling and bring it up for me, will you please? While I get Stephanie unpacked."

Teddie's free hand reached out and touched the top of the tiny head nestled against Desi's breast—all that was visible of the sleeping baby in the navy kangaroo pouch strapped to Desi's front. "How is my little princess today?" he cooed, a foolish infatuated look on his face. "Did she enjoy her little outing?"