CHAPTER Eight
Without a word, Jack swept Annalise into his arms and carried her to the petal-strewn bed. He lowered her to the satin duvet, the rich ruby color a perfect complement to her hair and skin.
“Nudity becomes you, wife.”
She laughed softly, just a hint of shyness evident in the deepening color that swept across her cheekbones. “I suspect it would become you, as well.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Or were you going to make love to me with your pants on?”
Following her example, he removed his remaining clothing, lingering over the process the same way she had, despite the urgency to simply finish the job and get down to business. He wanted to go slow, to ease toward the moment when they became one. To build the memories one blistering touch at a time.
When he finished stripping, she moistened her lips and lifted up onto her elbows. “Jack … I think I should warn you that I’ve just started birth control but it’s not effective yet. I guess I should have said something sooner.”
“I’ll take care of everything.”
He made short work of the matter and then joined her on the bed. Candlelight flickered across her, gleaming on the sweet, rounded curves of her body and chasing darkness into the dips and valleys. He traced his index finger across the dusky tip of her breast, watching the nipple bead beneath the light caress.
“What should I do?” Annalise asked.
“Whatever you feel like. Nothing you do will be wrong.”
“Show me how,” she insisted. “Show me what you like.”
Jack took her hands in his and guided them to his chest, pressed them there, close to his heart. Her fingertips danced across his flesh. Where once there was ice, each lingering stroke melted the coldness, turned it to warmth. Then to heat. He sank backward and gave himself up to her. Her undisguised pleasure and curiosity were a joy to witness. Little by little her inhibitions fell away and her stroking touch grew bolder.
She cupped him, then measured his length and width with her fingers and he closed his eyes, fighting to retain some vestige of control. This was a first for her, he reminded himself—her first memory of being with a man, of having free rein to indulge the sensuous side of her nature and explore to her heart’s content—and he wanted it to be perfect. When she’d driven him as far as he could handle, he gathered her up and flipped her onto her back, caging her within his arms.
“Jack,” Annalise whispered, her voice rife with emotion. “Make love to me.”
He couldn’t help but smile. “I’m working on it.”
A soft laugh escaped. “Work faster.”
Jack didn’t listen. He took his time, not wanting to alarm her or do anything that might remind her of that long-ago event. He needn’t have worried. With each touch she loosened, opening more and more of herself, both physically and emotionally. Shards of moonlight caught in her eyes, allowing him to witness her intense pleasure.
He cupped her breasts, filling his hands with the delicious weight of them while he teased the tips into excited buds. Then he tasted, reveling in the unique flavor of her. He felt the pounding of her heart against his cheek and the swift burst of her breath ruffling his hair. Sliding lower, he delved across the tensed muscles of her abdomen to the protected delta below. Cautiously, he drifted inward. Her small gasp of pleasure was all the encouragement he needed. He pleasured her until he felt the early ripples of impending climax. Only then did he pull back and settle himself between her thighs.
Cupping her bottom, he lifted her and slowly surged inward. Her hips shifted to meet his, fighting to find the appropriate rhythm. It took her only a moment to discover it. And then instinct kicked in and she followed the beat. Moved with it. Drove it. Caught within her rapture, she was sheer radiance. She rode them toward a peak, further and higher than anything he’d thought possible. They teetered there for an endless moment before the first tiny convulsions shimmered through them. And then they shattered.
As he flew apart Jack realized that the cold had disappeared, replaced by a raging fire he didn’t think could ever be doused. Annalise had done that to him. Had done that for him. Somehow, in some strange, unfathomable way, she’d freed him from the arctic wasteland in which he’d been living and brought him into the sun’s balmy light.
“Are you all right?” Jack asked much, much later.
Annalise stirred against him. “I think so.”
Her tentative comment alarmed him and he rolled over. Cupping her chin, he lifted it just enough so that the moonlight revealed her expression. Her mouth curved in a tremulous smile and a melting softness burnished her gaze. But he could also see a vague bewilderment that tautened her muscles and gave him a worrying sense of uneasiness.
“I’m sorry if it wasn’t all you hoped it would be,” he said. “It gets better with practice, I promise.”
“I can’t believe that’s possible,” she retorted with satisfying speed. She feathered a string of kisses across his chest. “That part was amazing. Incredible. And there’s absolutely no comparison between last time and this.”
Relief crashed over him. “I would hope not.” He gathered up fistfuls of her hair so she had no choice but to look at him. “If that’s not the problem, then what is?”
“It’s not a problem, exactly.”
“But …?”
She caught her lower lip between her teeth. For some reason the small gesture threatened to send him straight over the edge again. He wanted his teeth on that lip. Wanted to give it a small nip and tug. And then he wanted to soothe it, kiss it endlessly while he sank into her honeyed mouth. Before he could act, Annalise spoke again.
“Will it be like that every time?”
“Like that … good?” he asked cautiously.
“No, not good.” His heart stopped in his chest, until she added, “That was incredible. That was amazing. That was …” She shook her head. “That was beyond belief. I had no idea. None.”
“Your previous experience isn’t a fair basis for comparison,” he explained gently. He waited for her to absorb that. Once she did, his smile turned wicked. “In my opinion, we need more practice in order to improve.”
Her eyes widened. “Improve? On that?” She lit up. “Are you serious?”
He didn’t bother to respond. There was a far more satisfying way to answer her question. He applied himself to the task with all due diligence. He was going to enjoy married life, he decided. He was going to enjoy married life a lot.
The next few weeks passed in a blissful haze, overflowing with days of constant laughter, a heartwarmingly joyous Isabella and a fat and sassy Madam. And the nights were even fuller, each moment spent in Annalise’s arms richer and more life-affirming than the one before. The changes served to solidify Jack’s certainty that he’d done the right thing, both for his niece as well as for himself. Even Mrs. Locke cooperated, delaying her final visit so that the new family had an opportunity to settle into a comfortable routine.
Though Annalise continued to fuss because her father remained out of touch and she’d been unable to tell him about their marriage, Jack’s father had given his opinion in no uncertain terms.
“Have you lost your mind?” Jonathan Mason demanded. “You married your nanny? What were you thinking?”
“Wasn’t your second wife the au pair of one of your business associates?” Jack shot back. “Or was that wife number three? To be honest, I’ve lost track.”
“I believe she was my third mistake,” his father retorted. “I paid through the nose to escape that noose. At least tell me you had that woman sign a prenuptial agreement.”
Defensiveness swept through Jack without thought or intention, an instinctive reaction to what he perceived on a gut level as an attack on one of his. His employee. His nanny. His wife. He couldn’t explain when Annalise had come to mean so much to him, or even why. It wasn’t their marriage alone, or the fact that she now shared his bed. It was more than that. Little by little she’d eased past his barriers and infiltrated every aspect of his life. Warmed it. Healed it. She wasn’t just his employee, despite what their prenup might say. She was his wife, and he would defend her against everyone and everything, including his father.
“That woman has a name. She’s Annalise Mason,” Jack replied in a hard voice. “And you will treat her with the respect my wife deserves. Are we clear?”
To his surprise, his father apologized. “Call me once the two of you are past the honeymoon period. Suze and I will have you over for dinner. And, Jack …?” He paused, his hesitation out of character for a man so decisive. “One of the few comforts I’ve had these past few months is knowing that Joanne and I were able to rebuild our relationship before she died. I made a lot of mistakes when you were young. Terrible mistakes that I’d give anything to undo. Would you be willing … Do you think we—” He broke off abruptly.
Jack forced himself to pick up the ball. “Could start over?”
There was another long pause, and then: “I know I don’t deserve it,” Jonathan said in a rough undertone. “But I want to have my son and granddaughter in my life again. Your wife, as well, if you’re willing.”
For some reason, picturing Annalise’s face stayed Jack’s cold refusal. She would want him to take the proffered olive branch, as would Joanne. If his father could humble his pride—something Jack would have once thought an impossibility—so could he. “I’d like that, Dad. We’ll call you and set a date.”
“Thanks, Jack.” Uncharacteristic emotion trembled in Jonathan’s voice. “Anytime you’re free. Anytime at all will be fine with us.”
The weeks flowed by after that, and Family Bed became a Sunday morning staple. Little by little they accumulated furnishings that would better accommodate both a five-year-old and a massive klutz of a dog. Madam, in particular, reveled in her new home, her coat gleaming with health, while the regular nutritional meals kept her nicely filled out.
Or so he thought until Isabella woke them in the early morning hours with a piercing shriek. He was out of bed a split second before Annalise and raced flat out toward his niece’s bedroom. She wasn’t there. The covers of her bed were thrown back and Isabella was nowhere to be seen. Jack’s heart began to pound in dread.
“Where is she?” Annalise said, slamming into him as she darted into the room. “What’s happened?”
Her question was answered by another scream, coming from the direction of the playroom. The two of them flew down the hallway. It took him a minute to find his niece. He finally discovered Isabella and Madam inside the giant playhouse that occupied one end of the room. The dog lay on her side, straining, while his niece frantically petted her. She raised a tear-stained face to Jack and held out her arms. He scooped her up, checking her desperately for any sign of injury.
“What’s wrong, Baby Belle?” he murmured. “Where are you hurt?”
“Jack, it’s not Isabella. It’s Madam. Look.” A wet bundle of fur was tucked close to the dog. Madam licked the pup clean and nosed it toward her belly where it latched onto a nipple. Annalise stooped beside Jack and Isabella. “Don’t cry, Isabella. Madam isn’t hurt. She’s having babies.”
The change in his niece was instantaneous. Her eyes grew huge and a brilliant smile lit her face. She gave a little bounce that Jack swiftly stilled. “We need to be quiet. It’s a lot of hard work to have puppies.”
“I guess this explains why she was putting on so much weight,” Annalise murmured, as Madam whelped another pup.
“It never occurred to me to ask the vet if she’d been spayed,” Jack replied. “We’ll get that taken care of as soon as the pups are weaned.”
Over the next several hours, six puppies made their way into the world while Isabella looked on, wide-eyed and trembling with happiness.
“What are we going to do with all these dogs?” Annalise asked in dismay. “One Madam is wonderful. But six more …”
“Six more Madam-sized dogs are impossible, especially if these little guys are as klutzy as their mother.” He released a gusty sigh. “I’ll put the word out. We’ll find good homes for them.”
Isabella yanked on his arm, shaking her head.
“You want to keep them all, don’t you, sweetie?”
She nodded emphatically.
He hesitated, wondering how he could explain it in terms she’d understand. “Do you remember your mommy and daddy telling you about the day they adopted you?” He could tell from her expression that she did. “They adopted you because the lady who gave birth to you … like Madam gave birth to all these puppies … couldn’t take care of you, even though I’m sure she wanted to. Your birth mommy did a wonderful thing. She found someone who would love you and give you a safe home because she wasn’t able to. In a few weeks, when these puppies are ready to be out on their own, Madam won’t be able to take care of so many. It’s our job to find good mommies and daddies for all of Madam’s puppies, people who will love them and keep them safe. Families with children like you who need their own Madam. Do you understand?”
He could tell Isabella wasn’t happy about it, but she nodded reluctantly. He tossed a relieved smile over his shoulder in Annalise’s direction, shocked to see the tears streaking down her cheeks.
Fortunately, Isabella was so preoccupied with the puppies, she didn’t notice. With an inarticulate murmur, Annalise escaped the intimate circle and distanced herself from them. Jack followed. Some instinct warned that his wife was hanging on by a mere thread, and, without a word, he pulled her into his arms.
“Honey, what’s wrong?”
She simply shook her head without responding.
To his relief, Sara and Brett chose that moment to show up. They took in the situation in one glance. “Got a mite worried when no one appeared for breakfast.” Sara spoke in an undertone. “Brett had a strong suspicion about what was going on. Mentioned just last night that Madam looked a bit plumper than a few weeks of decent meals could explain.”
“I was going to give you the heads-up today,” Brett added. “But I see Madam decided to break the news to you herself.”
“That she did. Maybe if I’d had more experience with dogs I’d have caught on sooner.” Jack spared his wife a swift glance. She continued to cling to him, her face buried in his shoulder. “Would the two of you mind keeping an eye on Isabella? Annalise isn’t feeling well and I’d like to take her back to bed.”
“Oh, dear,” Sara said in concern. “Would it help if I fixed a pot of tea or a bite of toast?”
“I’ll let you know,” Jack assured. “I suspect Isabella will stay glued to Madam’s side for the next few hours, so I don’t think she’ll be any trouble. Call on the house phone if you need me.”
With that, he wrapped an arm around Annalise’s waist and ushered her from the room. The second they entered the master suite, she turned and curled into him. His arms closed around her, holding her tight. He felt the shudders ripping through her and caught the small gasping sounds. He waited out the storm, trying to pinpoint what had set her off. Something about the birth of the dogs was all he could come up with.
At long last, she pulled free of his hold. “You can let me go now,” she insisted. “I’m sorry to cause such a ridiculous scene.”
He tipped up her chin and regarded her in naked concern. “Tell me what’s wrong. Is it the puppies? Did they stir old memories of some kind?”
She waved that aside. “Not exactly. I don’t know why I reacted in such a silly way. What you told Isabella …” She gave an embarrassed shrug. “I’m sorry. For some reason, it made me cry.”
Aw, hell. “You do understand that we can’t keep the puppies?” Just the thought of six more dogs as large as Madam rampaging through the house left him weak at the knees. “We can’t give that many dogs the time and attention they deserve. We’d be doing them a disservice.”
She lifted her tear-streaked face to his. “No, no. I understand that part.”
“I’ll find good homes for them. The best. I have a lot of contacts in both the local community and the business world. We’ll find people whose homes and lifestyles are well suited for a large dog.”
“I know you will. It’s not that.”
Another possibility occurred to him. “Was it what I said about Isabella’s adoption?” he asked uneasily. “Joanne and Paul were very open with her about the subject, very matter-of-fact about it. They wanted her to understand the truth from an early age so there wouldn’t be any unpleasant shocks later on in life. Not that they were cold-blooded about it,” he hastened to add. “They were two of the most loving individuals I’ve ever known, and their daughter was at the center of that love.”
“Everything that’s happened to her just seems so unfair.”
He hadn’t quite gotten to the root of the problem and found himself floundering a bit in his attempt to pin it down. “That won’t be an issue for her anymore,” he reassured. “Not now that she has the two of us.”
“But what about Mrs. Locke and CPS?”
Jack lifted Annalise’s face and thumbed the remaining traces of tears from her cheeks. “They don’t stand a chance against us.”
A smile splashed across her face like sunshine following a cloudburst. It brightened her eyes, banishing the darkness. “How could I forget? You’re Jack Mason. No one can stop a Mason once he makes up his mind to accomplish something.”
He leaned in until they were almost nose to nose. “In case you’ve forgotten, you’re a Mason now, too.”
Her smile faded. “A temporary Mason,” she corrected softly.
That did it. He caught hold of the lapels of her robe and reeled her in. Her warmth collided with his, her soft curves locking with stunning perfection against his hard-cut angles. He released her robe and sank his fingers into the mass of inky ringlets spilling down her back. They wrapped around him in joyous abandon, allowing him to anchor her close.
“Did it feel temporary last night when we made love?” he demanded. “Does it feel temporary when you’re in my arms like this?”
He could read her uncertainty. “You know that’s not what we agreed—” she began.
His mouth tightened. “I’m changing the terms of our agreement.”
He didn’t give her an opportunity to reply, stopping the incipient argument with a kiss. He kissed her with a passion that had little to do with Isabella and everything to do with his own selfish desires. Her reaction was instantaneous. She returned his embrace with an urgency that stole every thought but one. To lose himself in her. To join them in a way that would defy any and all attempts to force them apart. To bind and blend and mate one unto the other until two became one.
She must have felt something similar because she looked up at him and the longing in her eyes nearly unmanned him. “Please, Jack. Make love to me.”
A final rational thought kept him from doing just that. “You’re exhausted.”
She shook her head. “Not that exhausted. Never that exhausted.”
He couldn’t resist. In all honesty, he didn’t want to. He tugged at the belt anchoring her robe. It parted, revealing the paper-thin nightgown beneath. A brush of his hands sent the robe fluttering around their feet in a pool of vibrant aqua silk. Next he captured the two straps of her nightgown and drew them down her shoulders, baring her desire as he bared her. His clothing followed until all that remained between them was pure desire, a white-hot blaze that drove them toward the bed.
She sank into the mattress and lifted her arms to him, offering herself like some pagan goddess. He didn’t hesitate. He claimed what she gave so willingly, branding her with his weight and desperate urgency. He found her breasts and claimed those as well, teasing them to rigidness with his teeth and tongue. Her arms enfolded him, pulling him closer still. And he sank into her heat, feeling the lap of it surround him, hearing the roar of it burning in his ears.
“I need this. I don’t think I can survive without it. Not anymore.”
“I’m here,” she whispered in her siren’s song. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“No, you’re not.” Somehow it didn’t come out as an agreement, but more as a warning. “You’re mine now, and I protect and hold what’s mine.”
Amusement glittered in her witch gold eyes. “We’re not possessive, are we?”
“Only with some things.” He swept a hand from breast to thigh. Mine, his touch seemed to say. He couldn’t seem to help it, his need to cleave to her had grown beyond his capacity to control. He tried to explain how he felt, fumbling over the unfamiliar words. “Now that I’ve found you, I don’t want to lose you. Now that I’ve had you, I don’t think I can go back to how it was before you were part of my life.”
“Then don’t.”
There was so much more he longed to say. To explain. But he no longer possessed the ability. So he told her without words. He knew what she liked, what brought her the most pleasure. And he gave it to her. Each caress built, one on the other, and she clung to him as though she’d never let him go.
She trembled beneath his questing hand—the elegant line of her spine, the velveteen swell of her breast, the sweet curve of her thigh. He cupped the downy center of her passion, feeling the gathering tension and delicate quaking of a woman teetering on the verge. He drew her legs around his waist and drove slowly into her, losing himself in the delicious warmth. Her sigh of pleasure slid over him, sank deep inside to the very core of him, to that final place of coldness. With each ebb and flow, they moved ever closer. The eruption came, more powerful and overwhelming than any before.
He took her. Made her his. Let go of the final fragments of his control. When he did, the last sliver of ice melted. And in its place came love, a love he’d never anticipated or asked for. Never even thought possible.
But come it did.