Natural Attraction Page 13
“Not odd. Damn lucky,” Mark said in a husky rasp. He stood up and led her back to the couch. “You look tired. Curl up over here.” His manner was tender.
“Dinner was lovely.” Jessie smiled, but inwardly she was aware all at once of the deep flame in his fascinating blue eyes. He pulled her down beside him. “The dishes, Mark,” Jessie said, flustered, regretting the inanity the moment it left her tongue. It had been a long time since she was alone with a man who excited her as much as Mark. She wanted their evening to be special, but what should she do next?
“Leave them. I’ve missed you, Jess. It’s been a long five days.” He laid his arm along the back of the couch, and she cuddled against him so naturally. Mark held his breath, controlling his impulse to gather her closer still. Her hand slipped into his. He cradled it to his chest. “I’ve thought of nothing but being with you every minute.”
“I’ve missed you, too.” Jessie swallowed against the truth of that admission. It sounded so simple, but it wasn’t. The emotions she’d experienced in the days since they left the island were profound and complex.
“How could you have time to miss me? The birthday parties, your job, your mother’s news and your photographs. There couldn’t have been time for me,” he protested but sounded pleased at her avowal nonetheless.
“I did miss you,” Jessie said quellingly, sparks kindling in her eyes. “Are you doubting my word, Colonel Elliot?” She drew herself to her full height inside the circle of his arms.
Mark pulled her head down to his and brushed his lips over hers with gentle restraint. Jessie had brought so much to his empty life, including the awareness of that emptiness. He wondered if he would ever find the words to tell her so.
Jessie’s mouth blossomed under the pressure of his. Her tongue flicked out, tasting his skin, inviting him inside the moist darkness. When Mark pulled her tight against him, she relished the loving pressure of his arms. The kiss was endless yet over far too quickly for either of them.
“I still feel just like the kid in his dad’s Chevy,” Mark confessed with a nibbling string of kisses along the side of her neck. “All strung out when you’re around, never quite knowing what to do or say. It’s awful.”
Jessie shook her head, laying it on his shoulder. “I don’t want to be that young anymore.” He smelled nice, of spicy soap and some subtle cologne. “No monumental upheavals with every decision that has to be made. No terrifying changes in my mind and body from one day to the next. No fumbling in dark cars, sneaking in after curfew.” Jessie stiffened. Good Lord, what had made her say that?
“Did you do such things, Jessie, sweet?” Mark’s hands were on the top buttons of her dress. He smiled down into her wide brown eyes, acknowledging the sensual undercurrents in her statement and requesting so much more.
“Mark, where are we going?” She broke off as his palm slipped lightly inside her dress, tracing the swelling curve of her breast.
“I don’t know, Jess. Not anyplace you don’t want to go. But it’s going to be a wonderful trip.”
“I think what I feel is so much more than friendship….” She wasn’t expressing herself well at all. But suddenly she wanted very much to be far more than just his friend. Jessie’s heart hammered against her ribs.
“I wanted us to become friends, Jess, for us to be comfortable together. I want you to trust me, to be sure of me. I’d never hurt you, Jess. I couldn’t. I meant what I said back on the island, that I want to know your mother and the girls. Everything about you. But now with you here in my arms all my good intentions seem to have disintegrated.” The rest of her buttons parted under the persuasion of his fingers. His eyes blazed a trail; his hands followed, down over the pouting swell of her breasts, the lush roundness of her waist, the curve of her thigh nestled against his on the rough surface of the couch.
“Jessie, would you believe me if I tell you I think I’m falling in love with you?” The words came out without conscious thought. Mark ceased his tactile exploration of Jessie’s scented softness. Now he’d done it. God, why couldn’t he keep quiet? He hadn’t even intended to make love to her, although he wanted that as much as he’d ever wanted anything in his life.
“Maybe it’s just puppy love,” Jessie whispered, trying to keep her voice even and light but the combination of his exciting caress and the words defeated her good intentions. “Emotions that belong to the kid in the Chevy.”
“No, damn it. It’s not, Jess.” Mark’s words were harsh, so at odds with his gentle touch. Several pins had come loose from the swirl on top of her head and long curls slipped over her shoulder. Mark reached out as though he couldn’t help himself, twisting a curl between his thumb and forefinger. “It’s not like that. I began falling in love with you in bits and pieces last week on the island. Since I dropped you off Friday night it’s been happening in big chunks. But tonight all I planned was a quiet evening alone. I won’t rush you, Jess.”
“You’re not rushing me. My mother told me I had all the symptoms of falling in love. She was right, as usual. Oh, Mark, I’m not sure how to act, what to say. There’s never been any man in my life but Carl. It’s all so new and strange. I want to please you.” Somehow the decision had been made between them without words having been spoken. “Falling in love again is—”
“We have all the time in the world and no reason to worry about anything at all.” His hands returned to shape the ripe curves of her breasts. Jessie felt her nipples respond more eloquently than any words to the glory of his touch. She didn’t think she could get enough of him. With delicious restraint Mark stood up, kissing the tip of her nose, pulling her up with him. “You’ll never be sorry, Jess.” The words were as old as lovers, but Jessie understood the sincerity behind them.
He led the way up the carpeted stair. Their clothes came off quickly between seeking kisses and lingering caresses.
Mark turned back the sheets on the big, old iron bed and followed Jessie down onto the firm mattress. Their bodies were gilded by the low gleam of the bedside lamp. Mark’s legs were long and rough against the smoothness of hers. His weight pushed her into the mattress. She liked the heaviness of him, the thrust of his ardour against her hand when she lowered it boldly to embrace him there.
Mark groaned. “I’ve wanted you so badly all these days. But I was afraid to tell you so, to show you, for fear I’d frighten you off.” His tongue tantalized a dusky nipple. His hands gentled her, circling lower to settle on the delta of her femininity.
Jessie clung to him with arms and legs that seemed possessed by a will of their own. She explored his lean, rangy strength, dazed by the return of passion and desire she’d thought buried forever under the ashes of her mourning for Carl. But her passion wasn’t dead; it had only been sleeping. Mark had awakened it for her. There wasn’t an inch of him she didn’t want to know as well as she knew her own body. When he entered her at last, Jessie ceased to think coherently at all, only to feel. Every cell of her being was alive to the joyful mastery of his body.
Mark rested within the snug heart of her. How good she felt sheathing him with gentle feminine strength. He’d needed Jessie for so long, it seemed, possibly forever. She was the woman of his dreams, all those private fantasies of five thousand lonely nights. She was a feeling, caring woman who would love him to his dying day, a woman who would be a partner and a lover and the mother of his children.
He moved within her, the warm moistness of her clutching at him, sending rippling shudders of delight all through him. Jessie, his love. She complemented each movement of his body with an answering beat of delicate passion.
Mark almost forgot to breathe. He was getting dizzy; the pulse beating in his head quickened with his physical response. Beneath him the tempo of Jessie’s sighs escalated. She seemed to splinter in a series of trilling shudders that communicated themselves to his soul. His body, his mind, his heart combined in a triumphant explosion as he was pulled into the vortex of desire with her and they came to rest beyond its swirl together.
Jessie closed her eyes against a rush of joy so strong it almost deprived her of the power of speech. He loved her. Mark loved her and wanted to marry her, to spend the rest of his life with her. “Happily ever after” could happen the second time around.
“I love you, too, Mark. I have for days and days. I can’t fight you any longer. I don’t want to. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Tears pricked behind her lashes, tears of joy and happiness. “But the girls…”
“I think they’ll accept me,” Mark stated with patently false modesty. Jessie’s reservations weren’t going to stop him now. Next thing she would be telling him that he didn’t have to marry her, that she would understand why he didn’t want to be saddled with a whole harem of females.
“Yes, I imagine they will. I’ve never seen them take to anyone as quickly as you.” Was there the tiniest hint of pique in her soft words?
“Are you worried that they’ll suspect what we’ve been doing here tonight?” Mark smoothed the frown from between her arched brows with a gentle, callused thumb.
“No…I mean only a little.” Jessie could feel the beginning of a blush heat her skin. “Do you think they’ll guess?”
“If you blush that hard every time someone mentions my name, they will. Do you mind?”
“It’s unsettling,” Jessie responded with innate honesty and an embarrassed little gurgle of laughter. “I believe the twins can judge between a mature commitment and casual sex. At least I hope so. I’ve tried very hard to give them values,” she added with a slight hesitation as she pondered her words. Could any teen make that complicated a moral judgment where his or her own parent was concerned?
Mark took his time answering, respecting her reservations. He tangled his fingers in the auburn waves of Jessie’s hair where it had come uncoiled and lay like a scattering of autumn leaves against the pillowcase. “I believe they can and will. You’re doing a fine job with them, Jess. You’d prefer that they not know we’ve become lovers at all, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, but not for that reason.” Jessie caught his roving hand and turned her lips into the palm. “Because of the upheaval my mother’s leaving us will cause for them.” Mark moved against her, unable to control the jolt of passion the erotic nipping caress sent arcing through his body. “And because it’s all so new and wonderful.” Jessie shot him an upward glance. She could feel him gathering himself within her. “I want to keep you my own precious secret for a little while longer. Will you do that for me?”
“You’re in control of this relationship where the girls are concerned. I trust your judgment. But for now, Jess, I can’t get enough of you. Will you love me again?” He began to move within her. Jessie felt the urgency of his desire catch her up in a cyclonic slipstream with a speed she couldn’t comprehend.
“I’ve never made love like this…twice in such a short time, not ever.” Her words were wispy with wanting and needing, her eyes aglow with a desire to give in return.
“Then we’re learning about love together,” Mark said jubilantly, “because neither have I.”
“JESS, WHAT TIME IS IT?” MARK’S voice was thick with sleep. Jessie smiled into the darkness, glancing at his bedside clock.
“Are you too tired to turn over and look for yourself?” she chided lovingly.
“No, just too lazy,” Mark confessed. “What time is it?” His hand reached out, circling her wrist. “You aren’t leaving?” Mark rolled over, curling her into the S-curve of his body, planting a kiss on the ivory slope of her shoulder, glowing pale in the moonlight from the high, uncurtained windows of the loft.
“I’ll have to leave soon.”
“When can we be together?”
“Oh, Mark, I don’t know when I can get away again.” Was he going to become possessive so quickly? “My schedule, Mom’s wedding.”
“I don’t think I worded that request very well,” Mark chuckled. His breath sent renewed shivers of longing sailing along Jessie’s nerve ends. How was it possible to desire a man so much, to have loved him so totally and still want him again as if they had yet to share the joining? “When will you marry me?”
“Marry you.” Jessie echoed his words; she liked the sound of them. “Soon,” she whispered, sealing her promise with a kiss.
“Too long.” Mark couldn’t repress the pride or arrogance in his words. She loved him. Jessie was willing to risk her heart again with him. He knew instinctively how difficult it had been for her to reveal her feelings. He admired her for it. He couldn’t love her any more deeply, but he was proud of her. “I want to keep you with me. I want to learn everything I can about you. I want you to grow sleek and fat with our child.” The words came from the most private, guarded recesses of his soul.
Jessie stiffened within the crook of his arm. Grow sleek and fat with our child. Oh, God. Jessie rolled against Mark in the darkness, praying she hadn’t heard him correctly. “What did you say?” she questioned in a small voice, her nails scoring half-moon indentations on the back of his hands where they rested below the swell of her breasts.
“I’d like to have a child with you, a boy, maybe. But you’re already so good at girls that I’d like us to have one of them just as well. I didn’t have a family for a lot of years, Jess. Part of that I couldn’t help, but part of it was my own fault. Now I see, being with my sister and brother, being with you and the girls, I see what I’ve been missing. Does that make sense?”
“It’s just so sudden, Mark,” Jessie hedged. “I can’t quite take it all in yet.” She wasn’t good at communicating her inner feelings. How could she tell him she loved him and wanted to marry him in one breath, and then deny him a child with the next? Who would have thought a man forty-six years old would want a child? She should have guessed any man as good at parenting as Mark would have a nesting instinct equally as strong. Jessie felt a tide of panicky torment rise within her. She didn’t want any more babies. Not even Mark’s. “I’ll have to think about that, Mark.” She tried to sound nonchalant, unalarmed.
“Yes, I suppose you will. I sprang it on you pretty quickly, didn’t I? I’m sorry. But I never thought I’d find you out there in this big lonely world, let alone make you love me. I just blurted out one dream too many. We’ll talk about it later, all right?”
“Yes, we’ll talk about it later,” Jessie agreed cowardly. She was glad of the reprieve. One dream too many. Only he’d told her that one a little too late to save her heart from breaking.
How could she tell him she didn’t want any more children? Even in her own ears it sounded cold and callous, so unnatural. She loved her daughters to distraction, but she was so much more comfortable with them now—despite the problems inherent with three teens—than she’d ever been when they were small. It sounded so infemi-nine, so unmaternal, to voice those convictions aloud. It was unthinkable to say them to the man who had just asked her to bear his child out of love.
“Will you stay with me a little longer, Jess? Then I’ll take you home.” Mark’s voice was a sleepy rasp in her ear. He kissed her hair lightly.
Jessie nodded silently. Yes, home, with her mother, her daughters, where everything was familiar and safe. There the pain of her heart cracking in her breast couldn’t be heard over the beat of rock music and the bickering of sibling rivalry. Home—that’s where she belonged. There she could lick her wounds in solitude and think of some believable explanation for refusing to marry the man she loved.
Chapter Seven
“JESSIE! OPEN THAT DOOR THIS instant!” Marta kept her voice deliberately low, although she wasn’t sure why she bothered. The twins were sealed in their room listening to someone, or something, called Motley Crüe; Nell was in front of the family-room TV rooting for
her favorite batch of superheroes. Jessie was incommunicado. She hadn’t spoken an unnecessary word in the past two days. It was enough to try the patience of a saint. And heaven knew, Marta didn’t consider herself even remotely eligible for that honor. “Jessie!”
Thirty-five years of conditioning paid off. “Just a second, Mom. I’m coming. You know as well as I do that I can’t develop these prints of the trip with the door open.”
“I’m tired of standing out here” came the unyielding staccato reply. “We’ll talk through the door.”
The subtle threat brought results. “All right, all right.” Jessie’s head appeared around the edge of the door to her darkroom. In actuality, the room was a converted pantry off the kitchen with a twelve-foot marble counter that had evolved from a weighty, unsightly white elephant into a valuable work space five years ago when Jessie took up photography seriously. “I wanted to get this first batch of prints drying before—”
She stopped abruptly, noticing the mulish look on her mother’s cherub face. Jessie opened the door revealing her jeans and sweatshirt-clad figure. Dark hollows shadowed her great brown eyes, fine lines bracketed her usually smiling mouth. Marta frowned harder. “What’s on your mind, Mom?” Jessie’s clouded gaze slid away from her mother’s appraising, sympathetic eyes.
“You’re on my mind. You’ve been since the night before last when you dragged me away from the Carson show to pick you up at Mark’s magazine. Sneaking out of the building in your stocking feet, in the middle of the night—”
“It wasn’t even twelve-thirty,” Jessie corrected with an attempt at a smile. She couldn’t defend the charge of not wearing her shoes. She had been barefoot. And she’d been running away.
“Why didn’t Mark bring you home? It was too late for a woman my age to be traipsing all over Manchester. You scared me half to death.”
“Mom, we’ve been all through this. Mark and I…we had a…a disagreement.”
“It had to have been more than a disagreement to bring on an attack of the vapors like you had. Jessie, you’re the world’s worst liar; you always have been. That’s why you never got away with anything as a kid. Now ‘fess up. Did you two have some kind of fight?” Marta’s voice was loving but acerbic, a habit of hers when dealing with a sticky problem.