The Heiress (11 page)

Except for the fact that he was kind and strong and smart and decent, and not afraid to either go head to head with her or stand by her in the midst of a storm. How many men could she say that about? Daisy wondered. Not many. Aware he had mentioned his grandfather but no one else, Daisy said, “What about your parents?” Who had they been?

Jack pushed a button and ejected the CD. “My father was a merchant marine who didn’t want any part of me or my mother. He split before I was born and my mom took off when I was three.”

So, Daisy thought, making note of the veiled pain in his eyes, she and Jack had more in common than she knew. She watched as Jack shrugged and flipped open another CD case. He put the disk in the player and adjusted the volume.

“Do you have any memories of her?” Daisy asked.

“Any memories I have as a little kid start at some point after that.” Jack turned his attention to his safety belt. His manner abrupt as his mood, Jack demanded, “So where to next?”

Wondering how much more there was to Jack that she didn’t know, would never guess, Daisy lifted both hands, palm up. “I guess we should go home so I can get moved in, and get back to work tomorrow.”

J
ACK COULD SEE
Daisy was nervous about the prospect of living with him. It was apparent from the way she dallied, requesting they stop at a popular fish shack for fried clams and coleslaw on the way home, the video store and grocery. Jack didn’t mind the errands, or even
her nonstop chatter about nothing in particular, but he did worry about her increasing emotional distance. It was as if she was ill at ease about how much she had revealed of herself to him and needed to wall herself off, keep him not just from getting too close, but from getting close at all.

Jack had lived his entire life like that, with people setting out conditions, letting Jack know exactly how close he could get and no closer. And Jack had put up with it because in most situations he had no choice. But Jack was damned if he was going to begin the only marriage he would ever have that way. For the sake of their baby, he and Daisy had to do their best to make this union a real one in every way. Starting tonight.

I
T WAS NEARLY FIVE O’CLOCK
when Charlotte stopped her longtime housekeeper, Maisie, in the upstairs hall. “Did Mr. Templeton leave his tuxedo out for dry cleaning this morning?” she asked.

Maisie stopped dusting the furniture in Daisy’s old room. “No, ma’am. Do you want me to get it?”

“No, Maisie, you go ahead with this room,” Charlotte said. “I want to get several of his other suits out, anyway.” Charlotte didn’t know what was going on with her husband. Usually, Richard was meticulous about leaving his suits out for the twice-weekly 6:00 p.m. pickup by their dry cleaner. But lately, ever since Daisy had gone off to Switzerland, he had been careless in the extreme, with all sorts of things. Charlotte knew Richard was upset by the recent turn of events. They both were. But that was no excuse for him to be so wrapped up in his own activities, whatever they were, that he might as well have been on another continent himself, for all the time he spent with her.

However, there were worse things than an emotionally distant husband, Charlotte thought as she stepped into Richard’s closet, removed several suits from hangers and began routinely going through the pockets, pulling out business cards, spare cash, an
I’m a Grandpa
cigar, and a… Thong? What in heaven’s name! Charlotte stared at the scanty silver lamé undergarment. Where would Richard have gotten this? And why was it in the inner pocket of his favorite glen plaid suit?

Blood draining from her face, Charlotte dropped the crumpled material into the trash, then immediately thought better of it. She didn’t want Maisie seeing such an item. Who knew what conclusion the housekeeper might leap to? She could think Richard had been to one of the strip clubs in the seamy part of town. Or worse, had a trampy mistress.

Charlotte knew better, of course. Richard was not only quite impotent, he did not approve of extramarital affairs. And he loathed slutty women. Why, even in the early days of their marriage, he had forbidden Charlotte to wear anything with even a hint of décolletage. When other women were raising their hemlines to a disreputable degree, Richard had made sure Charlotte’s remained at the knee. She hadn’t minded, she’d liked the fact that Richard hadn’t wanted other men ogling her.

Which was why, Charlotte thought firmly as she wrapped the offending garment in tissue and took it back to her room, to hide for later disposal, she knew not to worry.

A number of their friends had had grandsons getting married. Most had had bachelor parties of some sort or another, a few of which Richard had actually attended. No doubt this, Charlotte thought grimly, was simply a remnant of one of those tawdry, gentlemen-only affairs.

A
T
10:00
P.M.
, Daisy was sitting in an Adirondack chair on Jack’s deck, looking out at the ocean. It was a beautiful star-filled summer night and the air was warm and scented with the tang of saltwater. Sitting there, watching the tide roll in and listening to the sound of the waves crash against the beach, Daisy felt more content and relaxed than she had in a very long time. Until she heard the sound of the sliding door open, and soft male footsteps coming up behind her. Then it all came rushing back, the marriage she had embarked upon yesterday and the wedding night they had spent sleeping on the plane.

Jack came to a stop beside her. Daisy was still wearing the clothes she’d had on earlier in the day, but he was wearing a pair of boxers and nothing else. The shadow of evening beard on his face, he smelled like mint-flavored toothpaste and cologne. “What are you thinking about?” he asked softly.

That was easy.
Refusing to look at his impossibly broad shoulders or the bare sculpted muscles of his chest, or remember how strong and warm his body had felt when he had held her in his arms, Daisy turned her gaze to the crescent moon in the sky above. “How funny it is that I’m married.”

Jack sifted his hand through her hair, let his palm come to rest against the curve of her cheek, then hun
kered down beside her so he could look into her face. He traced the bow-shaped line of her lower lip with the pad of his thumb in a deliberately sensual manner that made her shiver in the balmy evening breeze. “Come to bed, Daisy.”

Four little words, and yet they held so much promise. Too much maybe. Daisy swallowed around the sudden tightness of her throat, and avoiding the sensual expectation in his eyes, the tingling of her body, she turned her glance back to the waves rolling onto shore. “I’m not sleepy,” she told him stubbornly.

Jack dropped his hand from her face, closed his callused palm around hers and got to his feet once again. “You don’t have to be sleepy.”

The breath hitched in her throat as she continued to play it cool. All sorts of erotic images filled her head, all of them of Jack and the one night they had spent together. A night that was already beginning to mean far too much. “Jack…” Daisy cautioned on a quiet sigh. How was she going to keep her heart intact if he insisted on behaving in such a sincere manner? She didn’t want to fall in love with him. Didn’t want to feel anything, except maybe friendship. And even that…

Suddenly he caught her wrist and tugged her to her feet. Thrown off balance by the unexpectedness of his actions, Daisy stumbled into him. “What are you doing?”

Jack’s smile spread even more enticingly as he rubbed his nose with hers. “Just living up to my end of the bargain, sweetheart.” Sliding one arm beneath her knees, the other behind her back, he lifted her up in his arms and carried her toward the open sliding glass door off the deck. “And giving us that wedding night we both so deserve.”

Doing her best to hang on to her composure as her husband carried her into the house, Daisy looped both arms around Jack’s neck. Looking into his eyes, she murmured softly, “I thought we had a deal.”

“You’re right.” Jack closed the door with his elbow and then continued through the informal living area, down the hall, to the only bedroom in the house. “We did.” Jack lowered her gently onto the turned-down covers of the king-size bed. Grinning, he summed up the gist of Daisy’s prewedding demands. “As I recall, I was to marry you and give our baby a name.”

“And you’ve done that.”

She watched, mouth dry, as Jack stepped out of his boxers and joined her, completely naked, on the bed, his body already in a state of obvious arousal. Jack undid the button at her waist. “So?”

Daisy caught his hand before he could draw the zipper down. “So you don’t need to pretend this is anything more than a marriage of convenience,” Daisy stated breathlessly, aware he hadn’t even kissed her yet and already her heart was pounding, her skin covered with goose bumps.

Turning his attention to her throat, he lifted her hair and traced a wickedly arousing pattern, from the U of her collarbone to just behind her ear, with lips and teeth and tongue. “Tell me that again in five minutes, Daze, and I’ll believe you.”

Daisy hitched in another breath as one thrill after another swept through her, leaving her shaking, confused. And traitorously—despite her decision to take this marriage her way, on her terms—wanting so much more. “Jack…” she murmured again, even more plaintively.

“Five minutes,” Jack repeated, and then both hands
were tunneling through her hair and his lips fastened over hers. Daisy meant to fight the need to be with him again, the truth was she didn’t want to need anyone, but when their mouths fused in an explosion of wet, soft heat, she could no more deny the conquering pressure of teeth and tongue than she could forget to breathe. He tasted exactly the way she remembered him, dangerous, dark, male. He commanded, he conquered, he took what they both needed, wanted. And she melted into him helplessly, into the kiss, letting the longing and the pleasure and the overwhelmingly sensual sensations overwhelm her. It felt good. It felt right. And, given the unattractively plump shape her body was about to take, she didn’t want it to stop. Still, she knew they were setting a precedent here for how things would be in this marriage of theirs. And she didn’t want him thinking he had the upper hand or could boss her around. So, reluctantly, decisively, she tore her lips from his, stared up at him, her chest heaving as she worked to catch her breath.

Jack smiled at her. “It’s going to take more than five minutes, isn’t it?” He didn’t seem to mind at all.

Daisy flattened a hand against his chest. “It’s not going to happen,” she told him sternly. Not like this. Not with him calling all the shots, setting the agenda.

“Oh, I don’t know about that, Daze.” Jack dropped his head to kiss the back of her wrist, the inside of her forearm, the heart of her palm. He smiled as Daisy, unable to help herself, felt her senses quicken. “I haven’t forgotten how beautiful you are.” He cupped her breast through the layers of cotton knit and lace bra, and ran his thumb over the crest. Smiling, he dropped his head. His lips following the path of his thumb, he suckled her through the cloth until Daisy’s thighs parted
of their own volition, and she arched against the unyielding hardness of his chest and thigh. “Or how much you enjoy being touched here,” Jack whispered, managing that zipper at long last and sliding his hand beneath her panties, settling it at the damp juncture of her legs. “And here,” he swept it through the petal-soft gateway, with such tender finesse she nearly came undone, “and here—” he slipped his fingers inside her as she opened herself to him.

Daisy caught her breath as a tiny explosion went off inside her body, shooting heat through all her limbs. Jack smiled and aligned his lips with hers. Still caressing her gently, moving his fingertips from delicate nub to deep inside and back again, he kissed her deeply, resolutely, as if branding her as his. And oh, Daisy thought, how she wanted to be his, how she wanted to take him deep inside her once again.

His golden-brown eyes glimmering with a mixture of anticipation and need, Jack gently caressed the sides of her face with his palms and feathered soft kisses along her hairline, then sat up just long enough to strip off her top and undo the front clasp of her bra. Her response every bit as elemental and inevitable as his, Daisy moaned softly as Jack bared her to the waist. His eyes raked her breasts, making her feel more beautiful and womanly than she had in her entire life. He was making her feel reckless and impetuous again, and those two things always got her in over her head.

“You’re not playing fair,” Daisy whispered, her heart beating even harder as her body continued to ache and burn with everything that had been missing from her life. Stronger still was her desire not to let something this wonderful go by unexperienced and unexplored. Maybe this wasn’t love. Maybe it would never
be. But it felt so good, so right, Daisy thought as Jack continued to kiss her.

His body pulsing with the need to take her and make her his, Jack bent and kissed the soft, freckled valley between her breasts, her nipples, every inch of the sweet plump mounds. “That’s one thing you should realize about me, Daze.” Knowing marriage had sealed their fate, he slid his hands under her, cupping her bottom possessively, holding her close, rubbing himself against her until he was certain she wanted him the way he wanted her, with every fiber of her being.

“And what’s that?” Daisy teased back between sweet, arousing kisses.

He tried—and failed—to keep the smile from his voice. “When it comes to getting what I want when I want, I don’t feel honor-bound to be anything but driven and unstoppable.”

“Well, I guess we have that in common, then.” Her deep-blue eyes gleamed with a mischievous light as she laced her hands around his neck. “Because I want what I want when I want it, too.”

A woman after his own heart, Jack thought. The difference being he was steady and reliable. And Daisy was, well…Daisy. Reckless and headstrong, daring and passionate, and yet still secretly the innocent in so many ways. And for that he had to be careful, Jack knew. Not to push her too hard or too fast. Or scare her with talk that was too serious. No, Jack thought as he brought her back into his arms and kissed her soundly. That would come later, after their baby was born, when they would be able to hold their child in their arms and realize what a lifelong commitment this was. Then she would know in her heart what he already did, that their feelings, their happiness, didn’t matter so much as their
child’s. And that they could and would make any and all sacrifices necessary to ensure the security and happiness of the baby they shared.

In the meantime, Jack thought, reveling in the hunger of her kisses and the more urgent demand in him, they had this to forge new bonds and bring them together. Determined to make the most of the chemistry flowing between them, he hooked his hands inside the elastic of her panties and pushed them down, along with her capri pants. She stirred as he kissed his way down her body then kissed her way down his. Savoring the sweetness of her unexpected acquiescence to him, he turned her so she was beneath him and wrapped his arms around her, groaning at the softness of her body, the sense of rightness, the instinctive knowledge he belonged inside her. Sliding a pillow beneath her, he parted her thighs, kissing the hollow of her stomach, stroking the soft insides of her thighs. Then dropped lower still to deliver the most intimate of kisses, until her body took on a primitive rhythm all its own, until there was no doubting how much she needed him. Jack parted her gently and eased into her. Deepening his penetration even more, he kissed her slowly and thoroughly. Until she groaned, soft and low in the back of her throat and looked up at him with eyes that were glazed with need.

“Like this?” Jack asked softly, his body trembling with the effort it took to contain his own pressing desire.

“Yes,” Daisy whispered, meeting him with abandonment. “Oh yes.”

He couldn’t get enough of her as she rose to meet him, and wanting to draw out every ounce of pleasure for both of them, he filled her with slow, sensual
strokes. Going deeper, then easier, hotter, wilder until they were clinging together, overwhelmed, in a fierce storm of passion, tenderness and need. For a long blissful moment they hung there, shuddering and reaching for the inevitable in that perfect weightless world. And then it was nothing but a blazing explosion of heat. Free fall. And down-soft contentment.

A few moments afterward, Daisy moved to the edge of the mattress, but Jack caught her by the waist and pulled her back into his arms. Daisy scowled at him. “I’m not going to be a conventional wife, Jack. So I don’t want you acting all territorial.”

Jack gave her the grin of a very sexually satisfied male. “I don’t want us to act the way everyone else thinks we should act, either, just because that’s what is expected,” he said, the sense of purpose back in his eyes as he tangled his legs intimately with hers.

“Then what do you want?” Daisy asked breathlessly.
Aside from the baby I’m carrying, and maybe just maybe, my birth father’s approval, entrée into the Deveraux family and family holdings I might someday inherit.

But to her surprise, he didn’t seem interested in any of that. “I want us to be lovers,” Jack replied, looking down at her as if all of this that was happening was somehow ordained. He paused to kiss her again, greedily, insatiably, then smiled even more broadly. “Think you can handle that?”

T
OM HAD JUST SAT DOWN
to breakfast in the dining room, when the doorbell rang. Seconds later, Theresa appeared in the portal. Her expression tentative but hopeful, she said, “Grace is here. Shall I show her in?”

His attitude as cautious as his longtime house
keeper’s, Tom nodded. Wondering what would prompt his ex to come by at this early hour—they hadn’t exactly parted on friendly terms the last time they had seen each other—he pushed his chair back. After a few moments, Grace breezed in looking fresh and lovely, every bit the career woman, in a deep-rose silk shantung pantsuit. She waved off his attempt to help her with her chair. “I only have a few minutes,” she said briskly as she took the chair closest to him. “I have to be at the studio to begin taping a show at ten.”

“May I get you some breakfast?” Theresa asked from the doorway.

Grace shook her head. “Just coffee will be fine, thank you, Theresa.”

Theresa poured, then said, “If it’s all right with you, I’ll be heading on over to the market to do my shopping for the day before it gets any warmer.”

“That’s fine,” Tom said. He welcomed the privacy. As soon as they were alone, Grace removed a folded section of newspaper from her purse and put it in front of him. “I’m guessing by your perplexed look, you haven’t seen this.”

Tom focused on the section of Bucky Jerome’s “Around the City” column circled in red marker and began to read: