Another Love, page 13
He felt her smile all the way down to his gut and beyond. His balls tightened painfully, so painfully he wanted to leap across the table and drag her off to bed. “Sharon will do the invitations and make most of the arrangements,” he said, trying to focus on anything except Erin’s soft, infinitely kissable mouth.
“Sharon?”
“What? Oh, Sharon’s my secretary. Remember, she came to visit while you were in the hospital.”
“Oh. She won’t mind? I don’t imagine planning parties is part of her job description.” Erin’s blue eyes twinkled when she teased Blake, and that only made him want her more.
“Actually, it is. She’s always planned personal as well as business entertaining for me. She likes doing it. How long will it take you to get together a list of people you want to invite?”
“I can get with Sandy after we get back tomorrow, and give you names and addresses in a day or two. We’re going to need every bit of space we can find to accommodate such a big crowd. Do you think the weather will still be nice enough to use the patio as well as inside?”
Blake forced a smile. He and Glenna had hosted many a glittering party here, and the house was plenty big to entertain two hundred or more people in comfort. But there were too many memories. “I want to have the party at the country club.”
“Why?”
Because he wasn’t ready, didn’t know if he’d ever be ready to laugh and be happy in the home he shared with Glenna. “Because it will be easier for you.” He didn’t want that soft, pleased expression to vanish from Erin’s lovely face. He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting her. He wanted…
Abruptly, Blake stood and stepped around the table. Grasping Erin’s shoulders, he pulled her to her feet and held her at arm’s length.
“Oh, hell,” he muttered, drawing her close enough that he could feel her warm, moist breath against his chest. “This is what I want, and you’ve been telling me all evening with those sweet, soft looks that you want it, too.”
When she didn’t protest and he felt her pulse quickening against his fingers, he bent and took her soft, inviting lips. Gentle at first, Blake soon unleashed the fierce desire that had been riding him for weeks. His tongue sought and found entrance, and he drank in her sweetness like a man long starved.
It was heaven, holding her. Hell, knowing he couldn’t fuck her pussy the way he was fucking her mouth with his tongue. Still he sought more torture, tugging down the zipper of her caftan and stroking the satiny fullness of breasts barely contained by some silky scrap of a bra.
She smelled like flowers and musk and woman, he thought as he laid a path of open-mouthed kisses down her neck. When he reached her bra, he nuzzled it out of the way and closed his lips around a tight bud of a nipple he’d been dreaming of for days. With his tongue, he teased at the pebbly nub until it rewarded him with a sweet, hot taste of the milk that sustained his son.
He was so hard he thought he’d die. She wasn’t helping the matter, either, the way she pressed her hips to his and rocked back and forth against his throbbing cock. He’d die if he didn’t bury himself inside her now. His movements urgent, nearly desperate, he scooped her in his arms and headed for the bed.
“We can’t,” she said when he laid her down and stood back to get rid of his clothes. “It’s too soon. The baby…”
“I know.”
What had he been thinking of? Fuck, he knew exactly what he’d been thinking with, and it certainly wasn’t his brain! “I’m sorry.” Blake sat on the edge of the bed and reached for Erin’s hand.
“It’s all right.” Her face was flushed, her expression dreamy. She’d obviously wanted him as much as he wanted her, if that was possible.
He held her gaze and rubbed his thumbs across the palms of both her hands until he found his voice. “I know I told you before we married that I didn’t want a sexual relationship—in the foreseeable future, was the way I think I expressed it. Well, in case you haven’t already guessed, I’d better tell you I foresee wanting one damn soon.”
Her hands curled and tightened around his. “All right,” she said, her voice low and husky, and sexy as the devil.
Suddenly he pictured Glenna’s face, and he drew his hands away. “I hope that doesn’t bother you half as much as it’s tearing me up inside with guilt.” He’d whispered, barely loud enough for himself to hear, but when tears welled in her beautiful eyes, he realized she’d heard—and she hurt.
“Damn it, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry. Look, I’ve got to go now.” When Blake walked out, he began preparing himself to face another hard, lonely night alone.
* * * * *
“Blake was the one who thought of our having this party for you and Greg,” Erin said when Sandy began thanking her effusively. “Don’t ask me what made him think about it in the first place, but he brought up the subject last week while we were having dinner to celebrate Jamie’s one-month birthday.”
“I wouldn’t have believed your husband had a romantic bone in his gorgeous body.” Sandy grinned.
“I don’t know that he does.” But Erin hoped the new, friendly way Blake had been treating her lately might mean he was thinking about her with more than just the physical attraction he’d reluctantly confessed feeling that night. Needing someone to talk with, she told Sandy about the dinner and what had followed.
“I worried about Blake after he stormed out of my room, but by the next morning he seemed to have shaken off whatever remorse he’d been feeling,” Erin concluded. “For the most part, he’s acted like a different man than before.” Erin lifted a deceptively plain black silk dress that looked almost like a floor-length slip from a Neiman Marcus dress box and put it onto a padded hanger in her closet.
“Different how?” Sandy asked, her eyes bright with excitement as she reviewed the list of guests who had accepted invitations to the party.
“Nothing specific. He just seems more open. I don’t know. It just seems that once he took the boys and me to his great-uncle’s last week, Blake has been easy to be with. Fun. Would you believe, he looks even better in tight jeans and cowboy boots than he does in his suits?”
“I believe that.”
“You would. I never would have thought Blake loved being outdoors the way he does. Until we went to get the horses, the only exercise I’d seen him doing was pumping iron in his gym and swimming. But he rides like a rodeo champ, and I can almost feel his excitement when he’s around the horses. I believe Blake would be as happy being a rancher as he is practicing law.”
“How many horses do you have? And how long have they been here?”
“Three. A black colt, a dappled gray pony, and the chestnut mare he picked out for me. They arrived Monday in an air-conditioned horse trailer.”
“You must be thrilled. I remember how much you used to love to ride.” Sandy set aside the guest list and curled up on the love seat in Erin’s bedroom.
“I am. I was shocked when I found out Blake loves horses as much as I do. I probably never would have if I hadn’t gotten curious and asked why he kept that big field behind the house fenced in, with nothing except grass growing in it. After he showed me the stable and told me about the horses he’d always had when he was a boy, I admitted that riding used to be one of my favorite pastimes.”
“So he just decided, like that, to go get some four-legged transportation?” Sandy shook her head.
“Basically, but he arranged to have the stable fixed up, first. That took two weeks. Then, last weekend, he loaded Timmy, Jamie and me into his plane and flew us to his great uncle’s ranch outside Lubbock. He picked out the horses there.”
Sandy sighed. “I don’t suppose he’d let my future stepdaughter ride one of them. On top of everything else I’ve got to do, Shana has decided she has to ride every day after she comes to stay with Greg and me. Guess who gets to take the princess to her riding club? It’s twenty miles, one way, so I’ll be stuck there for two hours every evening while she has her lessons.”
“You can ask him.” What few comments she’d heard him make about Greg’s daughter hadn’t given her the impression Shana was one of his favorite people.
“I will.”
Erin smiled. No one could accuse her little sister of lacking nerve. She hoped that spunk would keep Sandy going when dealing with her husband’s daughter became a fact of her daily life.
* * * * *
When she watched Sandy greeting friends and strangers at her engagement party the following weekend, Erin couldn’t help feeling an almost motherly pride. Her baby sister was all grown up, poised and sophisticated in a forest-green silk halter-top gown. She’d had chosen well. The deceptively simple gown and her upswept chestnut curls accentuated her beauty and made an elegant backdrop for Greg’s engagement gifts: a beautifully cut diamond solitaire and the modest diamond studs she wore in her ears.
As she stood with Greg and his mother, Sadie, greeting their guests, Sandy radiated confidence Erin was trying hard to emulate. From looking at the three of them, no one would guess Sadie’s approval had come grudgingly, or that Shana’s absence from the receiving line had been a subject of much dissension. The picture of unity belied the ripples of one-upmanship the three women played in the game of jockeying for first place in poor Greg’s life.
Erin shuddered. She’d hate having to tiptoe around Sadie Halpern. Never mind that the woman was currently beaming and chattering her approval of her son’s coming marriage to everyone she greeted. Beneath Sadie’s disarming smile lurked a mother whose major function in life apparently was trying to manipulate her only son.
“Where’s Shana?” Blake whispered during a lull in the stream of arriving guests.
Erin smiled up at him. “Over there. She decided to skip the receiving line.”
He looked toward the sullen preteen whose expression of studied boredom would have done justice to a jaded thirty-year-old. Erin thought of Sandy at that age, when she had come to live with her and Bill, sweet and eager to please despite having just lost her parents, and the comparison made her furious. Shana was doing her level best to make Sandy’s life, and Greg’s, hell on earth, for no reason Erin could see except perhaps that doing it amused the kid.
“I don’t envy Sandy or Greg, either, having to deal with the little monster Kay has created,” Blake muttered under his breath, sliding his hand up a little on Erin’s back and massaging the bare skin above her waist with a circular motion of his thumb. “Judge Adkins. You’ve already met Erin,” he said heartily to the elderly man who’d performed their wedding. “Erin, this is the judge’s granddaughter, Julie.”
“She’s a lawyer with the district attorney’s office. Tried that mass murderer last year.” The voice of the ghost came out of nowhere into Erin’s ear.
“I’m glad to meet you, Julie. I followed the Harvey case on TV. It must have been exciting, working to convict him.”
Julie smiled, apparently pleased Erin had connected her with the case.
Suddenly Blake bent his head and whispered in Erin’s ear. “Oh, God! I didn’t realize we’d invited them.”
“Whatever you do, don’t compliment this one on her dress. You’ll never get rid of her. She’ll tell you who designed it, why she wore it tonight. If you let her she’ll even tell you who designed and why she didn’t wear everything else in her closet.”
Glenna’s ghost was driving Erin nuts with her helpful asides, but as the evening went on, she noticed Blake smiling when she used Glenna’s information to set another guest at ease. Finally they disbanded the receiving line and adjourned to a big, round table at a corner of the dance floor.
The volume of the music from a small band increased almost imperceptibly. Waiters scurried around to keep the buffet tables filled and drink orders flowing from three bars.
This was a cocktail buffet? Erin stood at the serving table, her plate poised in one hand while she tried to choose from the cold roast beef, turkey, cheeses, raw vegetables and dips she’d suggested, along with a selection of hot dishes that came as a complete surprise. There were meatballs, croquettes, and several savory-smelling casseroles. Erin counted at least five different shapes and varieties of rolls in huge silver baskets. She selected some food and went back to the table.
“My mom has a diamond three times as big as this,” Shana was saying after lifting Sandy’s hand to inspect her ring. “The ring Dad gave Mom was even bigger and better than yours. She had it made into a pendant, you know.”
Greg had gone to fill Sadie’s plate, and Shana was on the attack. Glancing at Sandy with sympathy, Erin suppressed an urge to shake Greg’s daughter until her bright, silvery braces popped out of her head.
“Shana. That’s enough,” Sadie said sharply before turning to Sandy, whose mouth was trembling. “Sandy, dear, don’t mind her. Every little girl is jealous of the women who attract her dad’s attention.”
“Here you go, Mother.” Greg set a plate down in front of Sadie and took his seat between her and Sandy. “What’s the matter, princess?” he asked Shana, whose pout let everyone know she wasn’t happy.
“None of my friends are here.”
Erin could have reached over and kissed Blake when he spoke up. “Whose fault is that, young lady? Sandy and Erin both asked you who you’d like to invite. And my secretary spoke to you again before the invitations went out. Come on, relax and be happy for your dad.”
The conversation warmed, and Erin could see Sandy relaxing again, basking in Greg’s obvious adoration. She was watching Sandy float gracefully around the dance floor in Greg’s arms when her ghostly friend appeared in a haze of pale gold dust on the other side of the room.
“Ask him to dance,” she mouthed, inclining her head toward Blake before her image faded away.
Blake looked surprised when Erin tapped his shoulder and gestured toward the dance floor, but he rose politely and held her chair. Taking her hand, he led her onto the highly polished dance floor and took her in his arms.
“You look beautiful tonight,” he murmured as they swayed in time to a sweet, romantic tune.
“You, too.” Blake looked good enough to eat in stark black formal attire. When he came to her room, ready to take her to this party, Erin had nearly drooled. She hadn’t wanted to stop looking at him, had barely managed to keep from wrestling him to the bed.
“Sandy and Greg make a good couple.”
Erin sighed. “I hope they can survive adjusting to Shana.” When Blake tightened his arm around her, she leaned closer, and her nipples tingled at the contact with his warm, hard chest.
“And Mom Sadie. She may be a help with Shana, though, because she won’t put up with the kid being outright rude.”
“I noticed.” Erin glanced over at the table where it seemed Shana was getting a talking to from her grandmother.
“Do all kids get obnoxious when they get to be her age?” Blake pulled Erin closer, nudged her belly with his hardened cock.
Erin tilted her head so she could look up at him. “I hope not,” she replied, smiling.
“Me, too. Come on. It’s time to make some toasts.” He squeezed her waist. “Time for me to show off my wife.”
Blake’s arm felt good around her as he made the formal announcement of Sandy’s engagement. She felt herself flush with pleasure when he ad-libbed, “And for those of you who haven’t met her yet, this is Sandy’s sister—my beautiful bride, Erin.”
The next time they danced, Blake did the asking. He held her a little closer. She felt the rush of his warm breath against her hair and the insistent pressure of his erection against her aching body. A sweet hope began inside her that he might feel more for her than friendship, more than the lust he seemed to be fighting with all the weapons at his command.
“Do you know what you do to me?” he growled when they danced the night’s last dance together. He held her close—both his arms wrapped like tender tentacles around her waist. His fingers played havoc with her senses as he rubbed them softly over her bare back, and his arousal scorched her belly.
“I think so.” Erin knew exactly what she was doing to him, because he was doing the same thing to her. She was warm and wet and needy, longing to take his hard, hot cock into her body and end the long nights of wanting…dreaming.
Would he act tonight on the desire he couldn’t hide? Her heart beat faster as they rocked slowly to the rhythm of a slow, sensual love song.
Chapter Thirteen
“I’ll see you in the morning,” Blake told Erin brusquely after they’d checked on Jamie. He practically ran from the nursery into the room where he slept, because he knew that if he didn’t, nothing in the world would keep him from betraying his wife and making love to the woman who had him so hard and aching he could hardly stand up.
Erin wanted him to stay. He knew from the look in her beautiful dark eyes that his abrupt departure hurt her. God, he didn’t want that, any more than he wanted to indulge his body while subjecting his mind to the worst kind of guilt he could imagine.
For a long time, he sat on the edge of the bed in his study, staring into the darkened hallway. He tried to picture Glenna, but Erin filled his mind.
“Damn it to hell!” Frustrated, he got up and started to undress. He could take care of the throbbing ache in his balls the way he’d done several times this last month and a half. Why didn’t jerking off appeal one tenth as much as tossing away his misgivings and fucking the night away with the enticing woman across the hall?
His wife. The mother of his son. No, sons. But Erin wasn’t really his wife. Glenna was. And Glenna was dead. When the nursery door closed, he glanced into the hall and looked toward the pale, yellowish light from Erin’s room that cast its shadow on the wall.
Her hair was loose, wild, and windblown now, when at the party it had rippled against her shoulders in soft, ordered curls. In slow, tantalizing motion she raised her arms and lifted off that clinging, satin gown that left the supple skin of her back bare.
