Her Fifth Husband? (13 page)

Sasha watched his throat move as he finished off his iced tea. In all her experience with the opposite sex it had never even occurred to her that the throat was a major erogenous zone.

On the other hand, just thinking about the way he had flicked his tongue in the hollow at the base of her throat was enough to steal the air right out of her lungs.

Jake caught her staring and lifted one eyebrow. He looked delicious, but then, when had he ever looked any other way? The man was no clotheshorse, which suited her just fine, having been married to a couple of
GQ
types.

“About Katie and Jamison—are you sure?” she asked. “Maybe it was just an air kiss. I mean, if she's been managing his cottage all these years, chances are they're friends.”

“You want a demonstration?” Shoving his chair back from the table, Jake took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “They were standing about like this.”

He was no more than five inches away, close enough to feel the heat, to smell his soap and aftershave. Sasha breathed deeply, as if to fill herself with his essence. Her pulse was pounding, her lips parted and waited.

“She was facing me—his back was to me, but once he moved closer, like this—” Jake closed the distance until her breasts were pressed against his chest “—I couldn't see all that much, but I seriously doubt if they were discussing the weather.” His voice was starting to sound thick, almost strangled.

Sasha couldn't have spoken if her life depended on it.

“Actually, I think it was more like this,” he whispered, his breath stirring tendrils of hair against her face.

Just as it had before, his kiss began slowly with a soft, moist touch—a gentle, teasing brush of lips that quickly escalated into a major event. Was there a Richter scale for kisses?

If so, his registered at least a twelve.

Standing on her tiptoes, Sasha lifted her arms around his neck and pressed against him. Through two layers of clothing, she couldn't get close enough. While his teasing tongue explored her mouth, driving her mad with need, his hands cupped her hips, moving her back and forth against his erection until her trembling legs were barely able to support her. She could feel the moisture gathering, preparing her for what was to come.

Lifting his mouth from hers, he whispered, “Is that bed still available?”

His hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs stroking her taut nipples. She managed to nod. At this point, speech was beyond her. This is crazy, she thought. She was already in over her head. If he took her to bed one more time, she might sink without a trace.

Exactly what are your intentions, Mr. Smith?

Great sex, what else?

Exactly! Great sex and what else?

But if ever there was a time for that old T-shirt philosophy to kick in, it was now. She shut up and went with the flow.

Jake closed the bedroom door and turned to her, his eyes glittering with an intensity that was purely electric. “You're sure?”

Reading her answer in her eyes—there were some things no amount of artifice could hide—he pulled off his shirt and unbuckled his belt. Then, with his jeans unfastened, they came together for another bone-melting kiss, and any lingering uncertainty she might have harbored about the way she felt melted right along with her bones.

Using both hands, she slid his jeans and briefs down over his hips, then laughed shakily when he nearly stumbled trying to kick them off over his shoes.

“Oh, no,” he taunted, “you're not getting me naked while you're still wrapped up in that circus tent. I know all about power plays.”

“This circus tent, as you call it, just happens to be the most comfortable thing I own,” she informed him, her voice muffled as she pulled the caftan over her head. At least it was one of her newer ones. Besides, it was a little late to dash upstairs and change into something from Victoria's Secret.

The moment she was undressed, Jake lowered her to the bed and came down beside her. “You're incredibly beautiful,” he murmured.

She was so far gone she actually believed him. “So are you,” she whispered. “Your nose—”

“Broken twice.”

“Your eyes…”

“Reading glasses.”

“Me, too,” she admitted, but then all thought of minor flaws disappeared. When she trailed her fingers through the narrow pelt of flat curls that arrowed down from his chest, past his hard middle to his groin, Jake sucked his breath audibly.

He was hard
everywhere.

He kissed her eyes, her nose, and then he found her mouth again, hurling her into another dimension. The only reality was the aching, pulsating sweetness that left her helpless and needy, from the top of her Spice Tea hair to her Rhinestone Pink toenails. She shivered as his hands skimmed down her sides to cup her hips. When his fingers spanned the exquisitely sensitive skin of her groin, tracing the line and teasing her with quick forays into her moist center, her hips moved involuntarily.

She gasped, “Please—I need—”

“Hold on while I—”

“Now,” she begged.

“First I need to—”

She could feel him hot and hard and heavy, pulsing against her. When he leaned on one elbow to reach the bedside table, she knew what he was doing. She'd seen him remove the foil package from his wallet and place
it there. By her own standards, at least, she'd been safe and sensible all her life, and look where it had got her.

He covered her hand with his and began moving it toward ground zero. When her hand closed around him she forgot to breathe.

He groaned. Moving against her palm, he whispered, “No—no, wait a minute—”

As if waiting were even a faint possibility. He was like molten steel, and she wanted him desperately, wildly, far beyond the reach of common sense. She wanted him any way she could have him, but most of all she wanted him inside her where a five-alarm need was blazing out of control.

Using her thumb to caress, she squeezed and stroked, slowly at first and then faster. Curled around his naked back, her hips moved in unison with her hand until he gripped her wrist, lifting her hand away.

Moments later he moved over her again. “Now,” he whispered roughly as he plunged inside her hot, tight center. The sweetest pleasure pulsated around them as they raced toward the finish line. All too soon her climax triggered his and Jake shouted hoarsely, collapsing on top of her.

Eventually, with both their bodies slick with sweat, he rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him. Later, when she could gather enough energy to speak, Sasha said, “I'm too heavy for you.”

He barely opened his eyes. “You move and I'll…”

“Take your toys and go home?” she teased lazily.

“Yeah, something like that.” He grinned without opening his eyes. A few minutes later, when both their
pulse rates slowed to something approximating normal, he said, “What toys are we talking about, hmm?”

She chuckled. “The one I'm playing with at the moment?”

There went the old pulse rate again, like one of those test-your-strength gizmos at the county fair. “It takes two to play that game.”

“I know,” she purred. “Interested in a rematch?”

“You talked me into it.”

“Best two out of three?”

“You're on,” he drawled, and rolled over onto his side, facing her.

This time they made love at almost a leisurely pace. Sated, they took the time to explore, to discover and exploit newly sensitized areas that had been neglected in their earlier rush.

One tiny spot between her thigh and her belly. Attention there drove her wild.

The thin skin behind Jake's knees and the arches of his feet, where a single stroke could render him helpless. Sasha tickled him there, then took advantage of his helplessness to kiss every inch of his torso, lingering in places that made him close his eyes and groan. When it was her turn, he returned the favor. She twisted and whimpered under his sweet assault until neither of them could wait another second.

This time she straddled him, clasping him with her thighs. Panting, she matched him stroke for stroke, her head flung back, her eyes tightly closed. She felt herself tightening around him, heard him cry out her name, and then she collapsed, her sweat-damp body melting into his.

Eventually, Jake said, “That's it. Write me off as a casualty.”

Sliding off him onto her side, Sasha curled up in a fetal position—as if that might postpone facing reality. Either she'd forgotten everything she'd ever known about men—about sex—or she'd just entered an alternate reality.

She thought, I hardly even know this man, but I don't know if I can live without him. Oh, God, what have I done?

I'm not ready for this, Jake thought. He pretended to be asleep because he wasn't ready to answer any questions. In case she asked any questions.

In case she asked what? About his intentions?

Who had “intentions” in these days of instant gratification? You parked your brain, unleashed your libido, a good time was had by all, and that was the end of it, right?

Wrong. He knew better than that. He'd always known better than that, even in his wildest oat-sowing days. The trouble was, this woman had somehow managed to infiltrate his dull, orderly life until now she was as necessary to him as the air he breathed. He had no idea how it had happened, he only knew it had.

While she'd been watching him undress, he'd been thanking his lucky stars he'd been a swimmer all his life. He could still run five miles, although not with any great speed. There might be a few gray hairs on his head, but the hair on his body was still dark.

She stirred beside him and murmured, “Jake?”

“Hmm?” A smart man would get up, get dressed and get going before he got in any deeper. But then, he'd never been known for his intellect.

“You 'wake?”

“Umm-hmm.”

When she rolled over toward him, his hand brushed against her. The gentle swell of her belly was far sexier than anything revealed by all those rail-thin, near-naked beach bunnies that flocked to the area each season. If ever a woman was made for love…

“Who won?” she murmured. He could tell by the sound of her voice that she was smiling.

So he smiled, too. “Who's keeping score? Call it a draw.”

When they heard a familiar wail, he sat up. “I'll get her, honey, you stay here.”

Still without opening her eyes, Sasha smiled. “You don't have to do that.”

“You change her while I get a bottle ready.”

Recovering from a state of boneless lethargy, Sasha managed to sit up just as Jake scooped up his clothes and disappeared into the bathroom, his pale buttocks in stark contrast to his lightly tanned thighs and darkly tanned back. Shoving her hair from her face, she glanced around for her clothes, pulled on the minimum and hurried upstairs.

By the time she reached the bedroom, it had occurred to her that a little later on, the guestroom might make a fine nursery. She could clear out the flea market and estate-sale finds she'd been storing there, maybe roll on a water-based paint—something in pink, with a border of Disney characters dancing across the top….

Just outside the door she stopped and closed her eyes. You idiot! Won't you ever learn? Never invest what you
can't afford to lose. Her second husband, who hadn't bothered to practice what he preached, had taught her that.

Obviously, the lesson had been wasted.

J
ake left while Sasha was giving the baby a bottle. Fled the scene might be a better description. He felt like a deserter, but there was no way he was going to be able to get his mind back on track while she was tipped back in the big leather armchair, her bare feet on the coffee table, with his tiny granddaughter cradled in her arms. How any woman could manage to look sexy and maternal at the same time was a mystery to him. One he couldn't afford to dwell on, not when a single whiff of her hand lotion and he was rarin' to ride again.

He'd tried telling himself it was only sex, but there was no “only” about it. Nothing about Sasha Lasiter could ever be called “only.” That's what made it so damn scary. He had known—all right, he had sensed—that there was something special about her right from the first. Why else would he have been snapping pictures
of her even though they were evidence of nothing except that here was a beautiful woman.

And now things had gone too far to turn back, even if he'd wanted to turn back.

But before he could deal with any new beginnings, he had some old business to finish.

 

Hearing him drive off, Sasha felt like throwing something at him. “See you later,” he'd called out as soon as she'd settled down with the baby. The coward!

Oh, he'd be back, she wasn't worried about that, but for what? Her or his baby? And what about after he took his baby home to his drab white-on-white house? What then? Would she ever see him again?

Setting the bottle on the coffee table, she eased the baby onto her shoulder. “Well, you've gone and done it now, haven't you, Sally June?”

Talk about jumping out of the frying pan into the fire.

Jake wasn't like all the others. That didn't mean he was perfect, it just meant that she had a whole new set of rules to learn. Unfortunately, despite all her experience, she'd jumped headfirst into the game without knowing where the boundaries were, what the stakes were.

No point in blaming it on Fate—not unless Fate had a terrific sense of humor. If anything, she'd have to blame it on a pink, spike-heeled, ankle-strap shoe. That's what had started it all.

She sighed, inhaling the sweet baby smell, taking comfort from the tiny warm bundle that fit so perfectly in the curve of her bosom. As much as she
wanted his baby, she wanted the man even more. It was more than sex, although that had been unbelievably good. The chemistry between them was…explosive was the only word she could think of to describe it.

But it was far more than that. Right from the beginning there'd been something about the man that had fit into a hollow she didn't even know she possessed. Like two halves of a whole. Like two lovers reunited after lifetimes of being apart.

“Heaven help me,” she whispered as she headed upstairs with the sleeping infant, “I've gone and done it again—fallen in love.”

The next time the phone rang she was rinsing out a few tiny garments. Wiping her hands on her skirt, she grabbed the receiver. “Lasiter residence.”

“How come you're answering like that?” Marty asked.

“Oh, hi. Because if it's a client, I'm not in, not until I can work out a baby-sitting schedule. Are you calling to sign up for a time slot?”

“Dream on. I've got my own business to run, remember?”

Sasha sighed. “I know that, I was only joking.”

“Tired of playing mama so soon?”

“No way, but I've got an appointment at the beach tomorrow at three that I'd really like to keep. It shouldn't take but a couple of hours. How about it, can you spare Faylene that long? Tomorrow's your day, isn't it?”

“With Kell building our new addition on to the back and customers in and out the front, cleaning's hardly worth the effort, anyway, so Faye's free. Speaking of big
events, did you get Jake lined up for Monday? I called earlier, but I guess you were out.”

“Sorry, it didn't come up again after y'all left.”

There was a long silence, and then Marty said softly, “Aw, honey…. You want him for yourself, don't you?”

Avoiding a direct answer, Sasha said, “You know what? I don't think Lily's all that interested in meeting anyone new. You know those letters Faye says she gets every week? Maybe she's already involved.”

“And maybe they're from her maiden aunt. Anyway, it won't hurt to expose her to a few candidates.”

“Go ahead and expose all you want to, just—”

Marty, whose intuition had a way of clicking on just when it was most inconvenient, finished the sentence. “Just not your guy, huh? Gotcha, hon. But at this rate we might as well give up matchmaking. We're running out of bachelors.”

“There's still Gus and Egbert.”

“You jest. Lily and Gus don't even speak the same language, and she's taller and smarter than Egbert.”

“Well, what about that guy at the license bureau, the one with the dimples? I heard he's single.”

“Ever seen him out from behind that desk? Major spare tire.”

“So? Bob Ed's spare tire doesn't seem to bother Faylene,” Sasha reminded her friend.

“Look, Kell's calling—l gotta go, but you just concentrate on reeling Jake in, y'hear? This time you've got yourself a keeper.”

“I have?” Sasha murmured softly after replacing the
phone. Then why did she feel like she'd just jumped off a high building without so much as an umbrella to slow the fall?

 

To say Jake was frustrated was an understatement. Sasha's landline was busy, she wasn't answering her cell phone; he had those two installations to do before the weekend, and he finally had a solid lead in the Jamison case. Now all he had to do was prove it.

The trouble was, he couldn't seem to focus on anything but racing back to Muddy Landing. Back to Sasha and his grandbaby.

Probably a good thing he couldn't reach her by phone. If he told her he was on the way and she said not to bother, then what? When it came to this crazy business of falling in love, he was years out of practice. Some things got easier the second time around. Some things didn't.

In the meantime, he had a job to do. Pulling in at Southern Dunes Property Management, he looked around for a white Durango with a personalized license plate. Now that most rentals, including Driftwinds, were booked solid for the season, Jamison and his playmate would have to make other arrangements. Rather than risk his vehicle being spotted where he had no business being, a smart man would park elsewhere and hitch a ride with someone else.

In this case, his lover—who might have a legitimate reason for parking outside an empty cottage.

McIver's car was missing from her designated parking place. He spotted Jamison's Durango half hidden by
a giant oleander bush. Unless the gentleman was inside the office, three guesses where he could be found.

Make that with whom he could be found. Jake didn't have to catch them in bed together; all he had to do was catch the two of them together in a place where Jamison had no business being. A smart lawyer should be able to use circumstantial evidence and a guilty conscience as leverage.

When he walked inside he was carrying a conspicuous envelope that happened to contain his truck registration and maintenance record. The reception area was empty except for a middle-aged woman behind a small desk.

“May I help you, sir?”

“I'm looking for Katie—Katie McIver?”

“I'm sorry, you just missed her.” She looked at the envelope. “If you'd like to leave that here, I could give it to her when she comes in.”

“You wouldn't know where I could find her, would you? I won't take up but a minute of her time, but it's important.”

 

It was midafternoon when Sasha heard the slam of a car door out in the driveway. Her heart skipped a beat and began to pound as she glanced through the window. She was furious with Jake for staying away so long. He could have called to see how Peaches was doing, if nothing else.

She touched her hair. Determined not to take extra pains, she'd shoved it up and anchored it with a clip, trusting nature and gravity to do the rest. Wearing layered tank tops in pink and orange and a sheer flow
ered skirt—casual, but flattering—she took her time going down the stairs. No shoes, but a toe ring on each foot.

By the time he rang the doorbell, she was cool and composed. As for the flush on her face, she had no control over that. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she arranged a polite smile. “Well, hi, Jake.”

Polite. Friendly. Palpitations don't count.

“I thought I'd stop by to see if you needed anything,” he said.

She stepped back, affecting an offhand manner. “Since you just happened to be in the neighborhood?”

They both knew he had no real business in Muddy Landing. He'd already admitted as much. “Should I have made an appointment?”

Sasha shook her head. Maybe she needed a dose of that allergy medication they advertised so much. Not only palpitations, but hoarseness and watery eyes. “You want to see her?” she asked when she could trust her voice not to give her away. “She's upstairs. I just put her down. She stayed awake a long time after her last bottle.”

Jake cleared his throat. If she didn't know better she'd think he was as self-conscious as she was. “I, uh—could we talk first?”

Oh, God, he had something to say that she wasn't going to like hearing. He was taking his baby and leaving for good. “You know, she's much better off here. Changes can't be good for her—she's already had too many.”

“Yeah, I'm with you there.” Jake swallowed hard. She could see his throat working, see the tension in his eyes. “Look, I'm about as far out in left field as I've ever
been in my life, but Sasha—have I been taking too much for granted? I mean, this is crazy, right? We've known each other less than a week.”

Closing her eyes Sasha held her breath and uttered a silent prayer. This was not about the baby, this was about—

“Would you like to come in?” she asked.

Leading the way into the living room, she lowered herself carefully at one end of the sofa. Jake took the other end. Her face still felt hot. His was about as pale as someone with a perennial tan could be.

She waited for him to get to the point.

“Look, you don't have to take it if you don't like it. I mean, you've already got so many. Or we can exchange it. It might not even fit, I wasn't sure of what size you wore.”

“You bought me a pair of
shoes?
”

Wordlessly, he shook his head. He turned toward her, one knee hitched up onto the cushion so that the other one was practically on the floor. A shaft of late-morning sunshine slanted through the window to highlight the salt-and-pepper gray at his temples.

He looked gorgeous and sexy and totally out of his depth.

Her heart kicked into overdrive. “Jake, what are you trying to say?” She didn't dare try to guess. If she guessed wrong, she'd be devastated.

He opened his left hand, and there on his palm was a small jeweler's box. “I'm doing this all wrong, aren't I? I should have said something first.”

“Say something
now,
” she exclaimed.

“Hoo-boy, this is kind of hard to put into words, but
here it goes.” He took a deep breath. “You know about me—about Rosemary, I mean. We were young, but I loved her with all my heart. There hasn't been anyone—not serious, I mean—since then.”

His self-deprecating smile hurt her heart. She closed her eyes until he whispered, “Until now.”

Only then did she dare allow herself to hope, having learned caution in a hard school.

“Sasha, ever since we got together, things have been screwed up. Normally, these things—I mean, you and me—well, it usually takes longer. You know what I mean.”

Slowly, she shook her head. “I haven't a clue.”

“Okay, let me say this. For the past dozen years or so since I lost Rosemary, I've managed pretty well. We'd just started the business, so I could concentrate on that, but mostly I concentrated on Timmy. He was too young to understand why his mother wasn't there, but as he got older, things got better. You lost a brother, so you know how it is. You don't forget, but after a while you move on. You know what I'm saying?”

She hadn't a clue. Yes, she knew what grief felt like. So did he. But that was years ago, and this was now. He was still clutching the ring box. She didn't even glance at it. Instead she stared him in the eye through her turquoise contacts. If he thought he could just pay her off for services rendered—baby-sitting and otherwise—with a piece of jewelry, she would kill him. Flat-out kill him!

His shoulders fell. He closed his eyes briefly and then said, “I think maybe I'm all alone out here, so how
about knocking me in the head and calling Hack to come pick up the body.”

“Jake, what is it you're trying to say?”

Ignoring her, he continued speaking, as if he had to get it all out before he ran out of breath. “But if you happen to feel anything like the same way I do, then maybe you could wear my ring and we could sort of explore this thing as we go along. Please?”

Oh, yes, oh, yes, oh, yes!

Some men were glib, others needed help. Sasha was nothing if not helpful. “Jake, if you're trying to ask if I want to have an—an affair, then—”

He shook his head. Her hopes took a sharp dip, then recovered.

“Or I guess we could start out that way if you want to. Sort of take things gradually, get to know each other better. Then maybe in a few days—that is, a few weeks…”

To heck with caution. She reached for his hand. Ignoring the ring box, she pulled him into her arms, knowing she was taking the chance of a lifetime. “I thought you'd never ask,” she whispered.

 

A few hours later, barefoot and shirtless with his jeans unsnapped at the waist, Jake brought her coffee in bed. “Two sugars and a dash of diet cream, right?”