Catch Me a Catch Page 11
“I’m still me.” He ran a hand over her hair. “I’m still the man you decided to spend the night with.” Tension grew between them like the moment before the curtain pulls back on opening night. He was going to kiss her. Her tongue quickly darted over tingling lips and her eyes drifted close. She heard a swift intake of breath. The hand caressing her disappeared. She opened her eyes in confusion.
“We’ll eat, and talk, and get to know each other better.” He stepped away.
“I’ve had a hell of a day.” He ran his hand through his hair. The shorter strands stood up in a familiar way. Reassuringly like the old Jack.
****
A discreet knock heralded the arrival of their dinner. Jack opened the door and a waiter quickly wheeled a trolley inside. “I’ve set the appetizers out, Sir.” He left the remainder under domed silver covers.
“Thank you.” Jack slipped him a bill, and walked him to the door. “We’ll leave the trolley outside when we’re finished.”
“Certainly, Sir.”
They were alone again. The difference in his appearance and the evidence of his wealth had shocked Annie. For some reason she was pulling away from him. It wasn’t a situation he was prepared to tolerate. He burned to kiss her, and to peel the dress off her enticing body, but battled down his urges. Everything about their first night together had to be perfect. It was worth taking the time to reassure her that although the wrapping was different, he was the same as he’d ever been.
“I ordered for us, I hope you like crab?” Jack pulled out a chair for her.
“I love it.” She eyed the cocktail of crabmeat, lettuce, watercress and glossy mayonnaise greedily. “I’m starving!”
“I had an eventful day. Today I did something I’d dreamed of for years.”
“Drove a kick-ass car?” Good. She was joking again. He rubbed the back of his neck. After the emotional overload of meeting Mary he didn’t know how much more emotion he could take.
“No, I drive a kick-ass car at home. This car is definitely a step down from my Aston Martin.” He smiled at her expression. She really looked cute with her mouth slightly open, even though she probably wouldn’t think so.
“You met your grandmother.”
“Yes.” He poked at the crabmeat, loaded a forkful and chewed. “After my parents died I grew up in a succession of foster homes.” He clenched his fist on the tabletop. She reached across and placed her smaller hand on his. “It wasn’t a happy experience. That’s why I envy you your family. For years, I hoped some relative would come and claim me. I wanted a home like my school friends had. You know, a mother, father, maybe even some siblings. Yearned for it actually.”
The crab salad was delicious, but he was too jaded to care. He forked another mouthful in, and chewed slowly. “But it wasn’t to be. When my parents were alive they never talked about the past. I found out after they died, that they’d eloped from Ireland. When I got my advertising agency off the ground, and could afford it, I employed a private investigator to trace my ancestry. That’s when I found Mary Byrne, my mother’s mother.”
“She never came for you?” Annie whispered.
“No. I thought about it constantly. I wondered what sort of a woman would leave her own blood to fend for himself, alone and orphaned, in another country. Today I found out.”
He could tell she wanted to say something. The air was charged with her unasked questions and her gaze never wavered from his. She squeezed his hand briefly and waited.
“I drove past the house my mother grew up in. You can see the sea from there. For a moment, I imagined myself there as a child looking out at the sea across a garden full of flowers.” His mouth tightened into a narrow line. “I’m long over it now, but my childhood was hard. I was always getting into fights. I can’t remember the amount of times I sneaked inside the house with a bloody lip.” As a small child he’d been vulnerable, growing up in the foster home. An easy target.
“So today when I went to meet my grandmother I was ready to hate her. I wanted to hurt her. I needed to prove her neglect and abandonment hadn’t broken me.” He poured them both another glass of champagne and swallowed his in one gulp. “Then I saw her, and she looked so like my mother…”
He swallowed. Like my mother might look if she’d lived to get old. Not the way she looks in my memory. Warm, smiling with love for me, young.
“What did she say?” Annie asked gently.
“She has Alzheimer’s.” A nerve in the corner of his jaw twitched. He pulled in a ragged breath. “She had no idea I even existed. She’s never known. She had a mental illness, and her doctors never told her.”
“Oh!” Annie covered her mouth with her hand, visibly distressed.
“My mother eloped when she was a pregnant teenager with a boy from the village. He asked my grandparents for her hand in marriage, but they refused. They said their daughter was too young. She was only seventeen.”
“But the baby…”
“They kept the pregnancy a secret, and ran away. Mary told me her husband was waiting for his daughter to return and apologize. She thinks he’s alive, most of the time. Her doctor told me my grandfather died shortly after my parent’s ashes came back from the States. Mary’s mental illness meant she was never told about the sole survivor.”
“You,” Annie said softly.
“Me.” Jack nodded.
She slipped her hand into his, gripping it tightly. “What a day.”
“She has my mother’s pictures everywhere. If she could have given me a home she would have. I’m sure of it.”
“Did you tell her you were her grandson?”
“No. Her doctor felt it would be too confusing. She wouldn’t be able to understand. We talked for an hour before she fell asleep.”
“What are you going to do?” Her soft hair fell forwards as she leaned in closer, lying in a shining coil against her clavicle.
“I’ll visit her again before I go. Perhaps I can move her to America. Find a nursing home close by.”
The pain of recounting the story faded with Annie’s slow smile, and the tension holding his body in thrall released him.
“Are you ready for the main course?”
Annie nodded. He stood, and quickly swapped the plates from the trolley.
“Any more secrets?” she asked later when they’d finished their meal.
“Well, I’m rich.”
“You sort of let that one out of the bag,” she teased.
“And I’m not really a sailor.”
“No kidding.”
“I own my company. I’ve built it into one of the top advertising agencies in New York. I sailed to Ireland to put the yacht through its paces. I’m giving a presentation to the manufacturers, Bateau Rouge, tomorrow. My company is bidding for their global advertising campaign. In order to sell something successfully I need to have a real feel for its strengths and weaknesses. My approach is to live with the product and learn to love it. I know the yacht inside out. Apart from blue water, it was all I had to concentrate on for the weeks I spent at sea.”
“So, that’s why you sailed across the Atlantic?” Her fingers played with the napkin.
“I wanted to be alone to think about meeting my grandmother, too.” Drained by the emotional baggage he’d managed to offload, Jack strove to lighten the mood. “Enough about me. I want to hear about you.” He poured the coffee in a thin stream, and carried it to the table in front of the heavily upholstered old gold sofa.
She sank into its soft upholstery. Her dress slid up revealing more of her silky legs. “Gosh, this sofa’s eating me whole.”
He swallowed as a vivid image flashed unfettered through his mind. Annie and him. Nude.
“When will you hear about the Chocolate Oscar Competition?” They needed to talk. There would be time for touching later.
“Tonight’s the judging. Tomorrow morning they’ll make their final decision. I’ve given them my mobile number, so my future continues the moment the phone rings.”
Jack stared. Surely the competition couldn’t mean so much to her?
“I’m pretty sure your future’s going to continue whether the phone rings or not.”
He sat next to her, running a finger down her lightly tanned arm. A shiver of goosebumps signaled her response.
“Well, I mean, my future’s going to continue the way I want it to. The way I’ve planned.” She talked quickly the way she always did when she was trying to explain something. “If I win the competition I’ll have my own premises. A fantastic chocolate shop, right in the center of Dublin. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
Heaviness settled in Jack’s chest. She had her future mapped out. A future that didn’t include him. He’d planned on suggesting she join him in New York. Took a little holiday to explore their relationship further. He wanted them to be together; hadn’t reckoned on her having alternative plans.
“Why do you have to be here?”
She looked at him in astonishment.
“Not you too. You sound like my father.”
“We spent a lot of the past twenty-four hours talking,” he said. “Although, surprisingly, not all about you.”
She pouted. “Huh,” she tossed back her hair. “I’ve spent my life trying to escape the west of Ireland, and Dublin’s my inspiration. The shop in Dublin is part of the prize, it’s a wonderful opportunity. Even if I don’t win, a big city is the ideal place for a chocolate shop; there wouldn’t be the business in Durna to sustain it. As for Dublin? It’s difficult to explain. I need to show you. What time is your presentation tomorrow?” She tilted her head sideways, gazing at him through half closed lids.
“Twelve-thirty.”
“Plenty of time.” She smiled enigmatically. “Now, Jack Miller, I think you promised me double helpings of dessert.”
Her pupils expanded as he rose slowly to his feet. She plucked at the hem of her dress, but her fingers stilled on the silvery material as he reached out a hand and pulled her up. Her lips parted slightly. Her skin looked so soft he had to touch it. Long, dark eyelashes fluttered shut at the touch of his fingers on her cheekbone. The time for talking was over. Soft lips parted under the pressure of his, and their tongues tangled in a sensuous dance. His mind went blank. Her hands slid around him in one smooth movement, holding him tight.
His lips trailed down the long length of her throat. He pushed her hair back roughly and his teeth nipped her clavicle. She shuddered, and gripped him tighter. His breathing quickened and her chest rose and fell in a frantic rhythm.
“You’re driving me totally insane, do you know that?” The admission ground out of him at the look of naked desire in her eyes. Heat blazed through him like fire through a dry forest. He picked her up with one smooth movement. Strode into the bedroom. Placed her gently on the gold silk bedspread.
She reached for her shoes.
“Let me.” His voice was so husky and deep he barely recognized it. With shaking hands he carefully undid the straps holding the sandals in place, and slipped her feet out. Her high arch quivered when he ran his finger over it.
“Jack.” She squirmed, trying to pull him to her.
“Shhh.” He stroked her foot again. The skin was like soft silk under his fingertips. “Let me unzip your dress.” He reached around and slid the zip slowly down. The material glided off her shoulders to reveal breasts barely covered by the ivory lace of her bra. She shimmied and he tugged the silver sheath off in one smooth movement. Dressed only in ivory silk and lace panties and an expression of deep desire, her obvious need of him was the most arousing thing he’d ever seen.
“Come over here,” she commanded. A long elegant arm reached for him, and his seduction plan dissolved. With eager fingers he peeled off his jacket and shirt, and then wrestled with the noose of a tie, which suddenly seemed impossible to rip off.
****
“Jack,” she breathed. God, she’d thought he was sexy when he’d picked her up without a word and carried her into the bedroom. Now she was desperate to stroke her hands over the wide expanse of golden chest dusted with a smattering of black hair his struggle with his shirt had revealed. He was perfect. And she wanted him. With an urgency bordering on obsession.
The muscles of his stomach contracted as he undid his belt buckle. At the sight, her inner muscles tightened too. He stepped out of his trousers, freeing an impressive erection barely contained by his black briefs. Stormy ocean blue eyes never left hers.
The bed compressed under his weight, and his firm lips claimed hers in a punishing kiss. Waves of sensation broke over her as the silken warmth of his body brushed against hers in a totally delicious sensuous onslaught.
“I wish we could stay here for days. I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be than here with you.” She felt his words against her mouth. There were darker flecks around his iris, like planets in his own personal solar system. Their eyelashes were scant centimeters apart. It was totally absorbing, like drowning in deep water. The sensation was more intimate than the near nakedness of their bodies.
“Me too.”
Fingers brushed her shoulders, and trailed over the top of her breasts.
“It’s a front opener.” She muttered huskily. Clever fingers undid the hidden clasp. Slipped it off.
“You’re so beautiful.”
Her nipples stood to attention, desperate for his touch. They were not disappointed. He teased one erect bud between his fingers, while his warm mouth clamped over the other. Heat blazed, liquefying her core, and she gasped out loud.
He sucked. She couldn’t stop her frantic fingers from gripping his neck, holding him close. His clever mouth moved to her other breast; his fingers feathered over her ribs. Moved over her stomach. She arched into him, desperate have him closer.
“These are very pretty panties.” His mouth traced the lace border and his fingers stroked the damp satin between her legs. She couldn’t speak. She was drowning in a sea of sensation. When his hot mouth covered the satin, her hips pushed towards him.
“Jack.”
His fingers caught under the delicate wisp of fabric, pulling it off. He tossed it roughly aside and grinned up at her.
“Patience, Darling.” His mouth returned to its languid meanderings. Deliberate hands eased her legs apart, his tongue found her swollen nub, teasing it until she could bear no more.
His soft hair brushed her sensitive inner thigh. “I want you. I want you now.”
At the note of desperation in her voice, he stopped what he was doing. Kissed slowly up her body again. Nuzzled her neck.
“I want you too,” he whispered in her ear, taking her ear lobe into his mouth and nipping it.
His warm chest covered hers and he reached for the bedside drawer. With shaking fingers he pulled out a small foil packet, shucked off his briefs and quickly sheathed himself. His smooth hardness nudged her once, and then sank deep inside.
She sighed as her body adjusted to his length. His chest brushed against her sensitized nipples, goosebumps erupted over her entire body. It was like being on a roller coaster; emotions coming so hard and fast she could hardly breathe. Her inner muscles contracted at the sensation of his body moving slowly, deliberately inside her. Her fingers caressed the smooth flex of muscles across his back, her thumb wandering of its own volition to trace his ribs.
Mine. A possessive wave of sensation flowed into her when he gasped. You’re mine. She closed her eyes loving the feel of him inside her.
“Open your eyes,” he commanded. His eyes were deep navy pools, the expression in them so intense she could barely breathe. This was so much more than sex. I love you. The words hovered on her lips, but remained unspoken. She couldn’t speak the words aloud, it would change everything forever and she knew he wasn’t ready to hear them. An invisible, unbreakable thread bound her to him. She was in a world of trouble.
They hadn’t spoken of love, this was just a fling, a fling they’d both agreed on. She’d changed the rules by falling in love with him.
“Annie.” His deep tone reverberated through the hard tips of her nipples. Her fingers caressed his ribs, holding on for dear life. Her breath stuttered out in quick gasps, every inhalation breathing in his essence. Every cell reached out to him, the heady thrill building and building. She clenched her jaw. Her thighs trembled. His lips moved over her jaw line and her mouth instinctively turned toward his like a flower seeking the sun. Their tongues tangled frantically as the waves of orgasm flooded over her. Inner muscles contracting again and again as his big body followed hers over the edge into bliss.
Eventually, her breathing steadied, and her heart rate slowed to near normal. The weight of his body on top of her was delicious. She tilted her hips, and moved sinuously against him.
“I’m too heavy.” He tried to push himself up away from her, but she held him in place.
“Stay where you are, I like it.”
“You’re a complete masochist,” he teased. “I’m heavy, I must be squashing you.”
“You are.” She grinned. Loving the weight of him. “Nothing better.” She wrapped her arms tightly about him, nipples tingling against his hard chest. “You can’t tell me you’re not enjoying this.”
“I could try, but somehow I know you wouldn’t believe me.” He undulated slowly and she gasped as he grew within her again. “Yes,” he answered her unspoken question. “I want you again, which is pretty spectacular, even for me.”
“Sex god?”
“Apparently so. But I don’t think the condom can take it.” He carefully extricated himself. Climbed out of bed and walked toward the bathroom. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
She linked her arms behind her head shamelessly admiring every inch of his naked body until he disappeared from view. It was chilly on top of the blanket. On shaky legs, she slipped off the bed, pulled back the covers, and climbed in.