Mysterious (19 page)

"I never thought I’d say them." His mouth moved across her fingertips, then smiled. "But one night a beautiful woman came to me through the shadows and smoke of a bar and asked me to take her to a hotel. I had to say yes."

She sighed and lay back down beside him, being very careful not to hurt him. "I hoped you would come to love me, but I just wasn’t sure."

"I never had a chance, sweetheart. You knocked me for a loop." His hand had slipped up under the waistband of her sweater and was slowly caressing the side of her breast. "But I was so afraid you’d disappear. That fear kept me from saying a lot of things to you that I should have."

She moved restively under his hand. "I wasn’t going anywhere. I loved you." She gasped as his fingers suddenly closed over her nipple and softly tugged. "And I love you."

"I know that now. And I’m so grateful. Will you marry me?"

"Do you really mean it?"

He couldn’t stop touching her, and he knew it would be that way always. He took her breast into his hand and just held it for a moment. "Of course I mean it. While you were gone I planned a whole house and a family for us." Pushing her sweater over and off her head, he bent until his mouth could close over the hardened tip he had so recently pinched.

Jennifer moaned as his mouth and tongue seared over her skin, heating it.

"You haven’t answered me," he reminded her, his tongue circling the nipple.

"Yes, of course I’ll marry you," she whispered, tightly gripping the wrist of the hand that held her breast.

"And the house and the children are okay?"

"Yes," she managed. "The house and the children are okay."

"And you won’t mind having one more name change? Mailer. I promise you it will be your last."

She had to laugh. "I’ll adore being Jennifer Mailer."

He drew away, regarding her delicate, exotic beauty with a kind of reverence. For the very first time in his life he could truly say that he was totally and completely happy. The giant-size hole inside him had been finally filled. "Jennifer, I love you so very much. Let me make love to you."

"Jerome, you’re hurt! We can’t."

"We can," he said, threading his fingers through her hair and pulling her mouth back to his, "if we do it very carefully .... and very slowly."

Another hot story from Fayrene Preston . . .
An excerpt from

Chickens! There must have been ten chickens and two geese running around in circles, squawking and clucking. More than the birds, though, the kids held Jason Nesbit’s attention. Seven of them were trying to catch the chickens; each was slipping and sliding and covered from head to toe in mud. It was a total free-for-all. Laughter and screams filled the air.

Every time the kids made a circle around the chickens, the chickens charged and the kids ended up in the mud as they tried to grab them. No one seemed to mind the mud. Everyone was having a ball. Jason couldn’t tell which were boys and which were girls, except the oldest.

Even with all that mud, he couldn’t mistake the generous fullness of her breasts or the enticing curve of her hips. He grinned as she landed on her well-shaped fanny once again. One of the little ones toddled over and calmly scooped up a handful of mud and dropped it down her back. He could hear the shrieks from where he stood, then he heard her laughter. The happy sound seemed to cascade over him, and he couldn’t tear his gaze from her. Then he pulled himself up short. He wasn’t there to ogle a young woman whom he presumed was Mrs. McCormick’s babysitter. He was there to find his daughter.

And where was she? He studied the boisterous children, but knew his daughter wasn’t among them. He’d been told Charleen had been traumatized by the accident that had killed her mother and stepfather. She wouldn’t be playing in the mud.

So where was she?

The babysitter was now crawling around on her hands and knees, pretending to be a mud monster and chasing the smallest children. One of the other kids jumped on her back, yelling “Giddy-up!” She bucked him off and pawed the air. Another kid jumped on to try his luck, but he met with the same result.

She trotted away from the children, over to a girl Jason hadn’t noticed before. She was small, perhaps only four years old, and her arms wrapped around the neck of the biggest Great Dane he had ever seen. Dressed in jeans, T-shirt, and sneakers, she was the only clean child there. Could this be . . . ?

The babysitter spoke to the girl and held out her arms. The girl shook her head and tightened her grip on the dog, then gazed across the backyard at Jason.

Lightning shot through him when he saw her eyes. His eyes. She had his silver eyes. Oh, God, this was his daughter. Charleen. Impulsively, he started forward.

Riki McCormick noticed Charlie staring at something, then caught movement out of the corner of her eye. A man was walking toward her, around the corner of the back porch. Oh, no, she thought. It couldn’t be. She shaded her eyes to get a better look and frowned. It would be him. With all the rotten luck, why now? She glanced down at the mud caked on her body. Her band of Munchkins looked just as bad. There was nowhere to hide. There wasn’t a rock big enough for her to crawl under, let alone with six children. Chin up, old girl, she told herself. What was the worst he could do? Take Charlie, and he was going to do that anyway.

There was no mistake, she thought. That had to be Jason Nesbit, Charlie’s father. The resemblance was astonishing. He had stopped walking when he saw her watching him, and she took a moment to study him. She judged him to be about six feet tall. He was wearing black trousers and a white short-sleeved shirt. In the shade of the porch his hair looked black, and it was a bit longer than a typical businessman’s. She wasn’t positive, but she’d bet he had the same silver eyes as his daughter. The major difference between the two was Jason Nesbit had a smile playing across his face and Charlie never smiled. With a glance at the girl, Riki gave a loud, high-pitched whistle that quieted everyone immediately. All seven children faced her and waited.

“Kids, I believe we have company. Up to the porch, everybody. Travis, please help Jake.” Riki reached down for Billy-Jo’s hand and they slowly made their way to the back porch.

Jason was amazed. He hadn’t seen obedience like that since his days in the Marines. She was some babysitter.

The young woman stopped in front of him. “Hello, you must be Jason Nesbit.” She stuck her hand out for a shake, glanced at it, and withdrew it. “Sorry about that. I’ll wait until I’ve washed up a bit.”

“Yes, I’m Jason,” he said, “but you and the gang have me at a disadvantage.”

“I talked to you on the phone several times. I’m Erika McCormick, Riki to my friends.”

“You’re Mrs. McCormick?” Jason tried, but he couldn’t hide the surprise. At her stiffening, he quickly added, “I mean, you look so . . . uh, young.” He accompanied this statement with his most winning smile.

Riki’s heart stopped. Her stomach dropped to her knees, flipped over three times, and died. Her mouth went totally dry, and she slowly ran her tongue over her lips. She couldn’t help noticing that Jason Nesbit was following every movement. She also couldn’t help noticing the fire burning in his eyes, and said the first thing that came into her mind. “You’re early.”

As Jason stared at her small pink tongue, his mind turned over a dozen different possible uses for it. When it slipped back in between her soft lips, his gaze traveled downward, past a long neck that was streaked with dirt to a mud-soaked T-shirt clinging to a pair of tantalizing breasts. As a streak of desire shot across his abdomen he silently cursed his overactive hormones. For cripesake, he was here to meet his daughter. He was still amazed that he had been a father for the past six years and never knew it.

He pulled his thoughts back to the conversation. “Sorry about being early. I took an earlier flight than planned and there wasn’t any time to notify you.”

Riki felt a tug on her hand. She looked down at Billy-Jo as if she couldn’t for the life of her figure out how she got there. “Oh, I’m sorry, honey. It wasn’t nice of Mommy not to introduce you.” She turned back to Jason with a smile and a small shrug, as if to say “here goes.”

“Kids, I want you all to meet Mr. Jason Nesbit. He is going to become a very close friend of the family. Mr. Nesbit will be spending a lot of time with us for the next couple of weeks. I want you all to behave and treat him like family.” Her glance pinned her oldest sons, identical twins, and they flushed a bright red. “Right, boys?”

There was a chorus of “Yes, Mom.” She nodded and glanced at Jason. “Don’t be embarrassed if you forget a name or two. It’s a lot to handle all at once. The twins are Travis and Trevor. It’s quite impossible to tell them apart at times. They are six going on eighteen, and they have been known to strike terror into the hearts of the good citizens of Mountain View. Don’t let the angelic looks fool you for a minute, or you’re a goner.”

She rested her hand on the head of a boy with blonde hair. “This is Jake. As you probably haven’t noticed, Jake is blind. Most people don’t notice it at first. He’s been blind since birth. Please don’t feel sorry for him. Believe me, he makes it up in other areas. He can hear a whisper a mile away. Right, son?”

“Yes, ma’am.” The smile on Jake’s face showed how proud he was of that.

“Nice meeting you, Jake,” Jason said.

“Pete over there is the oldest of the tribe. As you can see, he wears a hearing aid. Lord, Pete, I hope you didn’t get any mud in it this time.”

“No, ma’am, it’s just fine. Nice meeting you, Mr. Nesbit.”

“My pleasure, Pete. You were pretty fast trying to catch those chickens.”

Pete’s face turned pink from the compliment as he smiled.

Riki glanced at the next in line, shook her head, and flashed a look skyward as if asking for help. “This is Andrew. He just turned four and has more curiosity in his little finger than every soul in the town of Mountain View put together. If you are ever alone with him, please beware. He will ask you anything at anytime. Believe me, it is usually at the worst possible time too.”

“Hello, Andrew. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Are you going to be my daddy?”

Riki choked and went white. She didn’t have the guts to look at Jason, so she stared daggers at Andrew.

After recovering from his shock, Jason chuckled. “I don’t think so. Andrew. I don’t think Mrs. McCormick’s husband would approve.” There, that ought to satisfy him, he thought smugly.

“Mom doesn’t have a husband,” Andrew said. “Just us kids.”

Riki thought she might kill him. She was just deciding which method. Boiling oil, swords at dawn? No, she’d run him over with his Tonka truck, a simple accident. She’d collect the insurance money and go to Tahiti.

“No husband?” Jason asked, staring at her. No husband and all these kids?

“I’m a widow.” He didn’t comment, and she added, “I warned you about Andrew. You’re on your own now.

“This little darlin’ is Billy-Jo, my youngest. She’s two and is just learning to go potty, so be prepared to clap a lot. She insists everyone must clap. Right, darlin’?”

Jason bent to Billy-Jo’s level and smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Billy-Jo. You’re as pretty as your mother.” He ruffled her mud-caked hair as he straightened.

Riki looked behind her at the lone figure and the dog. Swallowing hard, she said, “Charlie, please come here for a minute.”

Jason’s heart stopped as the little girl tightened her hold on the dog, but hesitantly stepped forward. She halted a few feet away from him, and he squatted down to get a better look at her.

If his ex-wife, Cynthia, hadn’t been killed in the auto accident over six months ago, he’d be tempted to wring her neck. On the other hand, if she and her current husband hadn’t died, he would never have known about his daughter. His first reaction upon receiving the summons from the Child Welfare Department a week ago had been arrogance, but curiosity had gotten the better of him. When the social worker told him about Charleen, he’d expressed his doubts about the parentage, despite his name being on her birth certificate. After he’d seen her picture, all doubts were erased. She was the spitting image of him, except with longer hair and frightened eyes.

While he had sat there staring at her picture, the social worker had explained Charleen’s problem. Since she had learned of her mother’s and, as far as she knew, her father’s deaths, she hadn’t spoken one word.

Immediately after the accident, Charleen had been placed in a foster home in Richmond, Virginia. She had become more withdrawn, though, and had then been sent to a Mrs. Erika McCormick in Mountain View, Virginia.