This Love Will Go On (6 page)

He leaned over her and her veins throbbed with desire.  He wore a black turtleneck jersey with his jeans and she braced her palms against the cotton-covered strength of his chest and said in a mixture of excitement and fear, “Jade listen to me.  This is impossible.  You… you’ve had too much to drink.”

He chuckled and buried his mouth in the side of her neck, nuzzling the warm cavern under her ear, his lips discovering the roundness and texture of the soft lobe. “Not to worry, sweet.  What you do to me is too damn strong to be blocked by a couple of shots of Scotch.”

“Jade, listen to me, please.  I can't let you…”

He stopped her words with his mouth, claiming the inner recesses with his tongue, his body shifting over hers, the evidence of his male arousal telling her he was absolutely right about his ability to drink and still make love to her. She burned with excitement and struggled against it. She couldn't let him kiss her into mindless submission.

He lifted his mouth and she knew this was her last chance to stop herself from surrendering completely to him. Appealing to that streak of innate chivalry she knew he had, she called on her acting ability and gasped a protest.  “Jade.”

“What is it?” His mouth wandered over her throat.

“You're too heavy.  You're hurting me.”

He lifted up at once.  “I'm sorry, honey. Where did I hurt you?  I'll kiss the ache away.” With one smooth movement, he raised her sweater and fastened his warm mouth on her bare midriff. Without any recourse to acting ability, she gasped. He laughed softly, his breath fanning her skin. He pushed her sweater away and those devastating lips ascended ever closer to the warm curve contained in the silk of her bra. When his mouth touched the soft underside of her curved flesh, she gasped again.

“What an innocent you are.”

“I'm not…” Why she was denying it, she had no idea. She had never exchanged intimacies with Marc like this. The few times he had made a fumbling pass at her, she had laughed and knocked his hand away.  She wasn't laughing now, and she wasn't pushing Jade away.

“Lift your arms,” Jade murmured in her ear.

“No.”

As if she hadn't said the word, he picked up her arm and freed it from her sweater. In one deft move, he had the sweater over her head and off her other arm. Cool air wafted over her skin. Caught in wanting him to look at her and knowing she shouldn't allow it, she twisted her head to one side, a small moaning sound of protest coming from her throat. With unerring precision he placed his lips on the soft triangle where the sound vibrated.

Against her throat he murmured, “Don't be shy, sweetheart. You're beautiful. So beautiful.”  He breathed the words against her skin huskily, his lips feathering over her. “Let me look at you.” He slid his hands under her, undid the clasp of her bra, untangled her arms from the straps and tossed it aside. She heard it hit the floor.  She shuddered and clasped his back, knowing that her resistance was weakening. His mouth teased her, played with the fullness of her rounded curve without touching that delicate, taut center. She moaned again, this time with need. Buried in her mind, those stolen moments with him in the arbor surfaced, and she shook with the anticipation. She wanted to feel his mouth on her naked skin again, his lips and his tongue moistly caressing her. He strung out the agony, exploring her breast from every direction, the side, the top, underneath, while his other hand played tantalizingly over her other breast. “You don't want me to do this to you, do you, Raine? I can almost hear that mental battle going on inside your head. And yet you can't stop me. You love the way I make you feel, so wanton, and wanting me.”

“No,” she murmured. "Jade, let me…”  She wasn't sure what she was going to ask him to do, but he stopped her words and all coherent thought by taking the dark burgundy center that ached for him into his mouth. Her instant shuddering reaction made a ripple of sexual excitement drive through his body. Her excitement fed his, and his fueled hers. They were caught in an endless spiral of pleasure given and received. She lifted her hands to his head and clasped his nape. The flicking motion of his tongue drove her into a primitive state that was sheer bliss. She was all femininity, the perfect receiver of his masculine adoration. Everything he did to her was so right, so right…for he was in her power, too. Each caress, each touch of his hand, each soft love word murmured against her skin told her how much he enjoyed touching her, stroking her, pleasuring her.  “Unzip my jeans, baby.  Touch me.  I ache to feel of your fingers around me.”

Trembling, she found the fly of his jeans and had the brass pull in her fingers when the torturing ecstasy of his mouth left her. He pushed up, pulling out of her arms. She lay back, stunned by his leaving…until she heard the soft tinkle of the bell on the front door.

In an instant, Jade was on his feet, his body filling the doorway as it had before, but facing the office.  His bulk shielded her from the eyes of whoever had entered the print shop.

“Jade?”  It was Harry's voice. “What are you doing here?”

Raine huddled under the covers, barely breathing.  All she could think of was that her bra and sweater were laying on the floor in plain sight of Harry if he got past Jade.

“Turning off lights the women left on,” Jade said without hesitation.

There was a silence, as if Harry was mulling that over. Then he said, “You okay?”

“Yeah, I'm okay.”

“I was closing up and I saw your car.  You'd had a few and…where’s your jacket?”

“I took it off.  I was feeling warm.  The effect of your good Scotch, I guess.”  He shrugged, sounded apologetic.  Then, a little more forcefully, “You go on home, Harry.  I’m fine.  I'll be leaving in a minute.”

Harry's voice had a reluctant note.  “I can drive you home…”

“In this storm?  Don't be a fool.  My pickup has chains.”  Another silence.  Then Jade's voice, cold and commanding.  “I'm okay, Harry. Go home.”

Harry agreed reluctantly, and the bell tinkled again.

Raine sat up, clutching the quilt around her, her blood pounding. On a nervous half-laugh, she murmured to the form in the shadows that had turned back to her, “Do you know what happens to little boys who tell lies?”

He came and sat down on the bed beside her, smiling, his hands on her shoulders pressing her back. “There goes my fine Irish nose.”  His smile deepened and his eyes sparkled.  “Should I have told Harry the truth?”

She could see him clearly in the light streaming from the other room.  He was smiling down at her, his attractive lips curved upward.  “No. Harry would have a heart attack.”

Jade chuckled.  “Maybe not. Harry's lived a long time. It would take a lot to surprise him.” He leaned over and kissed the soft skin above her breast.

“Jade, please. I…he might decide to come back in a minute to see why you're not leaving.”

His warm mouth traveled over her avidly.  “Come home with me, Raine.”

She fought the clamor in her body to say yes and said softly, “No, Jade.”

He lifted his head. “Just no?”

“Just no.”

“Do you have a reason or is teasing men a hobby of yours?”

Anger swept through her like a hurricane, but she tightened her control and said coolly, “You're a married man, Jade. And you're married to my sister.”

His eyes swept over her naked shoulders. “That didn't seem to bother you a moment ago.”

“A moment ago I wasn't thinking too clearly.  Besides, who do you have staying with Tate?”

“Sandy and Marc.”

“So I’m supposed to waltz into your house in front of them?”

“You could wait in the car until they leave.”

“Hide in the car, you mean.  Oh, that’s a jolly idea.  That would make me feel really good about going to bed with you.  Not to mention having to hide from Tate in the morning till he went to school and you could take me home.”

“Don’t.”  He cursed softly, sprang off the bed and went out into the other room.

She tried to dress quickly, but her hands were shaking and she had trouble fastening her bra.  At last, fully dressed, she left the darkness of the rear of the shop and walked into the light. He sat on the edge of the desk and stared out the window into the night storm, much as she had been doing minutes ago.

He turned, his hooded eyes telling her nothing.  “I’ll take you home.  I think I can do that much without sullying your reputation.”

“It isn't that far. I can walk.”

Through gritted teeth, he said, “Don't push me, Raine.”

He turned out the lights and, while she locked the door, he slid into the pickup and started the engine.

The air was icy cold inside the truck cab, but at least she was out of the wind. Her short ski jacket wasn't enough for the sub-zero temperatures and she shivered.

“You'd better take a hot bath when you get home.”

“So had you,” she shot back.

In a cool, mocking tone, he said, “I was thinking more in terms of a cold shower.”

She had no answer to that.

In front of Julia's house, he stopped the pickup, the chained wheels crunching on the snow. She found the door handle with her cold fingers.

“Sleep well, Raine,” he said with ironic mockery.

Matching his tone exactly, she said, “You too, Jade.”

After Christmas, the whole town buzzed with the news that Marc Kincaid and Sandy Tremain were getting married on Valentine's Day. Sandy came into the print shop and ordered invitations, her attitude toward Raine a mixture of interest, defiance and wariness.  Sandy assured Raine, with much satisfaction Raine thought, that both of Raine and Julia would receive an invitation.

“Are you going?” Julia asked on the next Tuesday night. They were seated at the kitchen table drinking hot cocoa and munching on the popcorn Julia had made in a small celebration of New Year's Eve.

Raine said carefully, “Of course, why not?”

Julia stared down at her cup.  “I've never wanted to be an interfering, prying aunt, but…”

“I'm very happy for Marc and Sandy,” she said firmly. “Sandy has adored Marc for ages.” She looked into Julia's worried face and smiled, her eyes open and honest.

Julia gazed at her for a long moment, as if assessing her words. Then she looked down, stirred her chocolate and laid the spoon carefully on the table.  “You haven't been yourself since before Christmas and I wondered…”

“Winter always gets me down.” She kept her smile lifting her lips.

“Are you going out with Doug tonight?”

Raine nodded and relief relaxed the tense lines in Julia's face.  “He's coming around ten and we're going to see a midnight movie.  Something about intrigue on a Greek island. We thought all that sunshine would cheer us up.”

“Does Doug need cheering up?” Julia's eyes fastened on her face.

Caught, Raine said frankly, “Probably not as much as I do.  But it has nothing to do with Marc.”

Julia turned to a philodendron that stood on a small stand next to her chair and absently fingered a leaf.  She loved plants and had them everywhere in the kitchen, on shelves in the window, on tiered stands next to the telephone. They spilled out into the living room and decorated the end tables on either side of the couch.  “It wasn’t a very happy Christmas for any of us.  I thought Michele would call again.  Do you know if she's been in touch with Jade?”

Raine shook her head.  “No. I haven't talked to him since…in quite a while.”

Julia didn't seem to notice Raine's slip.  “Surely Michele sent Tate something for Christmas.  I wonder if Tate liked that wooden tractor and combine set you got him.”

“He called yesterday,” Raine said and smiled.  “He told me he liked it. He sounded so grown-up on the phone. He must have practiced what he was going to say.”

Julia's mouth took on that firm look Raine knew well.  “I don't want to lost contact with that boy. You shouldn't, either.”

Raine rose from the table, picked up her cup and went to the sink to rinse it.  “I don't intend to.”

“Then perhaps we should decide to have him visit us on a regular schedule.”

Raine turned around, leaning back against the counter for support.  “A regular schedule?”

“If Michele were here,” her mouth tightened momentarily, “she would probably see him on weekends.  We could take her place.  If we took turns, it would only be every other weekend for each of us.”

Raine wanted desperately to say no, it was not a good idea.  Constant, regular exposure to Jade was the last thing in the world she wanted.  But to refuse would be churlish.  It would also break Julia's heart.  “That sounds…reasonable.  I don't know if Jade will think so, though.”

“I’ll talk to him about it,” Julia said firmly, getting to her feet.  “I'll call him right now while I'm thinking about it.”

“I'm going up to get ready,” Raine said, giving in to her urge to escape.

Later that evening, sitting in the movie theater beside Doug, she regretted the impulse that had led her to accept his invitation to go out on New Year's Eve.  He was a paper salesman, born in Canton, a true South Dakotan. He was dark-haired and tanned and had a keen sense of humor, and he had made frequent visits to Julia's shop, perhaps more frequent than necessary.  He’d come into the shop the day after her disastrous evening with Jade, and he’d made Raine laugh with his crazy anecdotes. When he unexpectedly asked her to go out with him on New Year's Eve, she’d said yes.