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Bargaining for Baby(21)

By:Robyn Grady


Maddy's nerve endings shorted out. She couldn't get enough air. Her   heart was smashing so madly against her ribs that surely he must have   heard the wild thumping.

She'd made the decision to come tonight. She couldn't go back and yet   she didn't know if she had the strength-the courage-to go forward. She   felt small, unremarkable, like she had the day she walked into that   woolshed. Jack was a thousand times more than any man she'd known. And   despite the confident act, she was just Maddy.

And Maddy was less than perfect.

But when he drew her close and his mouth slanted possessively over hers,   the trillion stars in the sky joined with the stars in her head.   Sensations, glorious and absolute, spiraled through her, around her, and   she dissolved then surrendered.

Her acceptance and commitment was complete. There would be no turning back. Now the only question seemed to be …

Would she ever want to stop?



He and Maddy arrived at their suite twenty minutes later.

During the cab ride, he'd held her hand in the back seat while she'd   chatted on about how much she'd enjoyed the evening. Despite succumbing   to him on the balcony-assuring him with the honesty of her caress of  how  she felt-she was nervous, and he wondered …

She was a city girl, mid-twenties, and worldly with it. He'd assumed she   was practiced where men were concerned. Was it possible she was a   virgin? He did know that she looked incredible in that gown,   particularly with her pale silky hair loosely swept up off her neck.   Sensuous flowing fabric and glittering gems were her territory. She   shone so brightly, she might have stepped off a New York runway. He'd   had trouble keeping up with the conversation at the table, he'd been so   bewitched by her grace and her beauty, and he didn't give a damn who'd   known it.

Tara Anderson had appreciated glamour to a degree but she'd preferred   breeches. He could identify. He was no stranger to tuxedoes but nothing   topped the comfort of a pair of jeans and worn-in boots. Escorting  Maddy  tonight in that spectacular designer dress, however, had him  revisiting  that long held truth. He'd happily don a stiff collar if it  meant  having Maddy on his arm.

But, he had to remember, this wasn't an ongoing thing.

Inside the suite, she moved to the center of the expansive living room   and rotated to face him. With her hands clasped high at her waist, the   hem of her gown floated out and settled again around her slim ankles.

"Do you usually stay here for the gala weekend?"

"Always."

Although not in this room. He hadn't been to Clancy in three years.   Hadn't been anywhere much at all. When he wasn't at Leadeebrook, he felt   irritable. Out of sorts. Home was the only place that seemed to give   him any reprieve from the constant rumble of regret that tagged him.

Rubbing his jaw, Jack crossed to the wet bar.

Did no good to let his mind wander in that direction. He'd loved his   wife and where she was now, he was certain that she knew it. Long and   hard he'd thought over his feelings for Madison Tyler. Hell, he'd   over-analyzed them into the ground.

But he was happy with his decision. He wanted her here with him tonight.   He only regretted that their time alone would be so brief. No use   thinking about her next visit though-if there was one. Women of Maddy's   caliber didn't stay free for long.

From the overhead rack he retrieved wine glasses.

Maddy's gesture caught his attention.

"You go ahead," she said. "But I'm fine."

He slid the glasses aside. He didn't want any more to drink. What he   wanted was Maddy raveled up in his arms. He wanted to enjoy that heady,   high altitude buzz she consistently whipped up inside him.                       
       
           



       

He wanted to feel her body, naked, beneath his.

Every minute they spent on small talk was one more precious minute wasted.

Intent, he moved toward her, tugging his bow tie free. When Maddy's eyes   widened and her bodice rose on a silent breath, his step hesitated.   What the devil was she afraid of? That he'd throw her down and take what   he wanted? He didn't operate that way. If she'd only relax he'd be  more  than willing to show her.

He was an arm's length away when she spun on her heel to face the view   of the town lights visible beyond the wall-to-wall window.

"I wonder if we'll see any Min Min lights tonight," she said. "You said they bob up around these parts all the time."

Jack rubbed the back of his neck. More than instinct said she wanted to   be here. The way she'd danced with him, clung to him, wasn't   manufactured. Yet something kept touching on her brakes. He'd assured   her every way he could. With words, with affection.

Flicking back his jacket, Jack set his hands low on his hips. There were   two ways to handle this … slow and ultra steady, or cut to the chase and   let this push and pull game be decided upon once and for all.

He wound around to block her view before he folded his hands over hers.   Bringing her cool knuckles to his lips, he warmed them with a heartfelt   vow.

"Whatever you're worried about, believe me, Maddy, you don't need to be."

He meant that promise to the depths of his soul. He wouldn't hurt her   for the world. He never wanted to cause harm to anyone again,   consciously or otherwise.

She rolled her teeth over her bottom lip and Jack frowned. After coming   this far he wondered if she might tell him now that she'd been wrong.   That she didn't want to be with him as much as he wanted to be with her.

When she sucked in a breath and finally nodded, relieved, Jack smiled   and nodded, too. At the same time, his glance dropped to her lips. Lips   he'd remember forever.

His gut kicked with a familiar pleasant tug. This was right. She was right. Beyond ready, he lowered his head and claimed her.

Heat rose up his thighs, igniting a trail of flash fires over his skin.   The urge to probe deeper, savor more, was alarmingly powerful, near   impossible to resist. They were alone. His blood was booming. In his   mind she was already writhing beneath him.

Kissing her still, his hands ironed up the curves of her waist. When he   reached the bodice of her gown, his fingers encased her sides while  each  thumb stroked the underside of her breasts. As the kiss grew in   intensity, his thumbs circled higher. While she whimpered in her throat   and leaned in, he clenched every muscle to stop from satisfying the   primal urge to pry those red cups apart.

Instead his mouth reluctantly left hers.

Her eyes were closed, her breathing labored. Her fingers dug into his   biceps for support. The delectable burn smoldering below his belt   expanded. These past days-watching her, wanting her-had been a   bittersweet torture.

Angling, he scooped her off those dainty silver heels and up into the   cradle of his jacketed arms. Her lashes fluttered open and his chest   grew as she peered up at him with large, dewy eyes. Beyond a set of   opened interior double doors, the master bed was in full view. The   covers were turned down as he'd instructed. He'd find protection in the   bedside drawer. With every cord in his body wound tight, he delivered   her into the bedroom.

The room was dark, its open glass slider doors inviting in a cool   breeze. Standing in shadows, he was vaguely aware of the moon's silver   claw hanging in the sky, the night song of cicadas and a faint rustling   of leaves. He set her on her feet, released his dinner shirt's top   buttons and then stepped forward to find the zipper at her back. His hot   gaze fused with hers, he eased the zipper down.

He felt her slight tremble as he edged one gossamer light sleeve off a   slender shoulder then encouraged the next. The gown fell over her curves   and landed in an airy puddle at her feet. Hungry, but patient, he   soaked up the ethereal vision of her porcelain frame … her high full   breasts, scanty red panties, long milky legs ending with sexy spiked   heels. He inhaled to the bottom of his lungs then his gaze went to her   hair.

"Let it down."

She hesitated only a heartbeat before reaching with both hands to   release the pins. Her hair cascaded but she didn't shake out the kinks.   Rather she looked to him as if waiting for his next move … or approval.

Stepping into the space separating them, he skimmed both sets of fingers   up the column of her warm slender neck, carrying the hair high enough   to leave ample access. Then he lowered his mouth to her throat and   flicked her fast-beating pulse with the tip of his tongue.