Son of a Preacher Man

chapter Seven


“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Mary Ellen asked as Nadya collected her purse and car keys. “I can get my sitter to come early and watch the boys.”

“No, but thanks. I think this is something I have to do on my own.”

“Okay, but if you need me just call. I’ll be there in no time.”

“It’ll be fine. What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“I don’t know. I’m just nervous for you. Heck, I think I’m more nervous than you.”

“I feel better now that I’ve made the decision to find out what my father had to say. It won’t change anything, but it’ll be a relief to put it behind me.” She hoped.

“Well, you look like a million bucks. That’s got to count for something.”

“I’ll let you in on a secret. I buy everything on consignment. Even the car was used.”

“Get out of town. You must make good money as a lawyer.”

Nadya adjusted a stray curl and stuck it back in the French twist. Damn Georgia humidity. “When I first started interviewing, I didn’t have two nickels to rub together. Mama and I were living in a tiny apartment, and she was working two jobs so I could concentrate on law school and passing the bar. One of the girls I went to school with brought me to this second-hand shop, and I got designer clothes for dirt cheap. I’m still paying off college loans so I keep going there. It seems like I’ve worn hand-me-downs my whole life. You can take the girl out of the trash, but you can’t take the trash out of the girl.”

“You stop that talk right now. I think that shows you have good old common sense. Why waste your money if you don’t have to? And when I come up to New York to visit, you can take me to this shop so I can get me a pair of shoes like those. That’ll put Pansy’s knickers in a knot for sure.”

Mary Ellen looked like she wanted to suck the words back into her mouth, so Nadya took pity on her. “Mar, I figured the Campbells were still in town. Don’t worry. You can say their names without me flipping out. I’ve put that behind me.”

“Well, I haven’t. I still hate them like poison.”

“Let it go.”

“Humph. Easy for you to say. You don’t have to see the sanctimonious bitches every Sunday.”

“Mary Ellen!”

“It’s true. Why, just last week, Orleane had the nerve to tell me I shouldn’t have hired Rosa because she was Mexican. Rosa works twice as hard as anyone in this town. That’ll be the day that I let Orleane Campbell tell me who to hire.”

“Mama, Hunter keeps knocking over my tower!” Billy called from the den.

“You go watch the boys. I’ll call you after the meeting.” Nadya hugged Mary Ellen.

“You better. I’ll have about eaten myself alive with curiosity.”

Nadya blasted the air conditioning as she made her way to Hornblower’s office. She tried to believe what she’d said to Mary Ellen, but it wasn’t working. Her heart beat double time, and her palms were sweaty on the leather steering wheel. As ridiculous as it seemed, she was scared to death that finding out who her father was would change her life.

The center of town was a bit more active today. There were other cars on the street and parked in front of the general store. Maybe Dale wasn’t a ghost town, after all. It was early enough in the day to see children playing in the little park near the town green, and people were coming and going from the gas station and the post office.

If she didn’t have the whole father deal on her mind, she might have tried to see if there were any faces she recognized, but right now the last thing she wanted to do was run into someone else from her past.

She took a deep breath and made sure she didn’t have lipstick on her teeth and her hair was in place before she got out of the car. Her heart was in her throat as she knocked on the door to the office, but she refused to let it show. She’d approach this like she approached meeting the opposing counsel—professionally and with her cards close to her chest.

Hornblower himself answered the door. “Good morning, Miss Sarov. Come on in. I was tickled to hear your message. You’re doing the right thing.” He already had two glasses of sweet tea on his desk, right next to a thin folder.

Her stomach churned with anxiety. Damn, she wished she hadn’t had seconds on Mary Ellen’s biscuits and gravy this morning.

“I’m willing to hear what you—or my father, rather—had to say. That’s all I’m committing to at the moment.”

“Of course, of course. Why don’t you sit down and have your tea while you read the letter your daddy left you? After you’ve finished that, I’ll go over the particulars of the will. How does that grab you?”

“That’s fine.” He must be nervous himself if he was willing to skip the social chitchat. Her hands shook as she accepted the envelope from him, and she damned herself for the show of weakness.

“I’ll just run across the street to the store and get myself a muffin. Take all the time you need.”

“Thank you.”

She waited until he left before examining the envelope. It was standard stock paper, nothing fancy. Her name was printed in block letters on the front. Her entire name—Nadezhda Grace Sarov.

“This changes nothing,” she said aloud before tearing it open.

My darling Nadya Grace,

I’ve tried to write this letter so many times, but I never know where to begin. I don’t know what your mama told you about me. Probably very little and none of it good. She wouldn’t be wrong. I met your mother when her family came to work on my horse farm. Her father was known to have the touch with horses, and I had a new colt that showed promise if I could break him. I took one look at your mama and fell head over heels for her. I won’t try to justify my actions. I was a married man with two sons and more than twenty years older than Talaitha. I knew courting her was wrong, but it didn’t stop me. Looking back, that was the best time of my life and I wouldn’t change anything except my decision to stay with my wife. I’ve made many mistakes, but falling in love with your mother wasn’t one of them. Nor were you.

Nadya felt nauseous. How dare he say that was the best time of his life when her mother ended up shunned by her entire family and living in poverty trying to raise a child when she was still a child herself? Of course it wasn’t a mistake for him. He didn’t have to pay the price of his courting. What an ass. She forced herself to continue reading.

When your mama told me she was carrying you, I panicked. I wasn’t ready to leave my wife, and Tala was only sixteen. I could lose everything I’d worked so hard for. I set her up in my hunting cabin in Dale and promised her a monthly allowance if she’d leave my name off the birth certificate. She looked at me with the coldest eyes and said she’d take the cabin until the child she carried no longer needed it, but she wanted nothing to tie me to her. At the time I thought I’d gotten off easy. Now I know it was a curse.

Years later, I hired a private detective to find out everything I could about you and your mama. I followed your progress through school and was as proud as I could be when you graduated college. I tried to help where I could by giving endowments and grants, but I still couldn’t acknowledge you, and it broke my heart.

What right did he have to be proud of her? He hadn’t helped her study at night or work two jobs so she could have a roof over her head. The arrogance of him made her want to scream. She threw the letter on the desk and walked about the tiny office until she got her temper under control. She’d read the rest of his letter and then burn it.

I know this letter comes too late, and I’ll die with that on my soul. I just wanted you to know that even though I could never be there for you, I always loved you. I hope someday you can forgive me.

Your father,

Haywood Masterson

“Fat chance,” she nearly snarled. Her head spun with too many thoughts for words. She finally had the name of her father and knew the story of her conception, and she felt dirty. He was a selfish a*shole who took advantage of a poor gypsy teenager and now wanted her forgiveness. She wished he was still alive so she could tell him to go to hell.

The door opened, and Nadya spun on her heel to face Hornblower. Her anger must have shown on her face because he took a step back before he caught himself.

“Don’t shoot the messenger. I don’t know what was in that letter. I was just doing my job.”

Nadya took a deep breath, then another. Her temper was on a very tight leash and could snap at any second. “How old was Mr. Masterson when he died?”

“Woody had just turned seventy before he dropped dead of a massive heart attack. He’d had a few minor ones before, but this one got him before the ambulance could even get here.”

She did the math in her head. He was forty-five when he’d seduced her sixteen-year-old mother. He should have been horsewhipped.

“He says in his letter he has two sons. Do they know about their bastard half-sister?”

“There’s no need for such language, Miss Sarov.”

“It’s the truth, isn’t it? That’s what the good people of this town called me all my life. While my father and his wife and his two sons lived on their horse farm all nice and cozy, my mother had to put up with women calling her a whore and men trying to use her like one. Do you know how hard it is for a newcomer in this town, Mr. Hornblower? Do you? Not only was my mother sixteen and pregnant, she was a gypsy. People would spit at her on the street. When I went to school, mothers wouldn’t let their children play with me because I was gypsy trash. Anytime something went missing in the classroom, I always got blamed because it was in my gypsy blood to be a thief.”

She was vibrating with the force of her anger. Her fists were clenched so hard, her nails dug into the palms of her hands. She wanted to scream, to cry, to throw something, do anything to release the tidal wave of fury burning inside her.

“I can’t say I know your pain, because obviously I couldn’t. I do understand your anger. If you want to hear the details of the will another time, I respect that.”

The will. She’d forgotten dear old Daddy had left her a little pittance. She wanted to take that and burn it too. “No, let’s get it over with now.” The sooner she was done with Hornblower, the better. She never wanted to come back here again.

“I’ll spare you the legalese. The gist of it is he left you the cabin and forty acres surrounding it as well as any rents collected on the property minus taxes and fees.”

The cabin was hers? And the place by the creek? “Does his family know about this yet?” was all she could think to ask.

“No. The property has been in a trust since you were born. After you and your mama moved out, Woody rented it out to hunters and the like. The trust has been collecting interest for twelve years. There’s a nice little nest egg for you now.”

“Is that supposed to make up for a childhood in poverty? Does that bring my mother back?” she bit out. She had to leave. If she stayed in this room another minute, she’d explode. “I’ll get back to you about the details, Mr. Hornblower. Good day.” She grabbed her purse and fled.

“Miss Sarov! Wait!” he called after her.

Heads turned, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to get away as fast as she could. She ran towards her car and smacked into a solid wall of muscle and soft cotton.

“Whoa, slow down there, killer, you’ll break an ankle running in those shoes.” J.T. held her upright when she would have fallen backwards. He took one look at her face, glanced at the door she’d come out of and took action. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Before she could protest, he swooped her up into the cab of his truck, which was parked right next to her car, and backed out of the parking spot. He didn’t try to speak to her, just held her hand and drove like a bat out of hell. Nadya didn’t mind his driving. The faster they went, the more distance she’d have between herself and Hornblower. Unfortunately, he couldn’t drive fast enough to keep the anger from rolling over her or the thoughts spinning through her brain.

He pulled in front of the cabin before she processed where she was.

“Come on, I’ll get you some tea, or a beer, or whiskey. Whatever you want.”

“I want to go to the creek. To my spot.”

“Dressed like that?”

“I don’t give a shit. I need…I just need to go.” She opened the truck door and jumped out. Her heels sank into the soft dirt, and sweat immediately dampened her blouse.

“Hold on a second! At least take a stick!” he called after her.

She ignored him and plowed through the bushes. Branches scratched her arms and pulled at her clothes, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she was moving. If she just kept moving she wouldn’t have to think about anything.

Something scurried in the leaves and the birds cawed raucously overhead. The familiar sound of trickling water broke through the storm cloud of anger surrounding her as she hurried along the path. Finally, she reached the clearing.

Her breath wheezed in and out of her chest like bellows, and she realized she’d run the last fifteen yards or so. She was lucky she hadn’t caught her heel on a root and fallen. Without wasting any time, she kicked her shoes off and rolled up her pants. She had a blister on her baby toe, and the cool water would feel heavenly on her overheated feet.

The log had been worn smooth from the weather and bugs and still made the perfect bench. She looked at her reflection in the pool and winced. Her hair had partially fallen out of the twist, sweat made rings under her armpits, her mascara had run and she looked like a raccoon.

She scooped some water in her hands and splashed it on her face. Trying to get the mascara out from under her eyes was almost impossible, but the coolness felt good. Her blouse was soaked by the time she was through, but it would dry quickly enough in the heat. Leaning back, she braced herself against the boulders behind her and let the breeze caress her face. With her feet in the water the heat was bearable so she closed her eyes and tried to absorb the peace of the place.

Thoughts of her father’s letter and will kept intruding. Even the magic of the grove couldn’t calm her down. She was so angry and sad and frustrated she felt like her skin couldn’t contain all her emotions.

“So I take it the meeting didn’t go well?” J.T. stood next to her, holding out a water bottle.

“Jesus,” she practically screeched in fright. “You scared the life out of me. I didn’t hear you coming. Wear a bell or something.” She couldn’t believe he’d crept up on her without her hearing the tell-tale snap of branches.

“Sorry, I hung back until I thought it was safe. You looked ready to chew iron and spit nails.”

“I am.” She took the water bottle and drank greedily.

J.T. tossed his boots by her ruined heels and rolled up his jeans before joining her on the log. His feet looked wide and masculine next to her smaller ones. She waited for him to press her about the meeting, but he didn’t. He didn’t speak at all, just sat next to her while she let the cool water run over her toes.

“I have a punching bag in the cabin if you’re interested in beating the snot out of something.”

Nadya laughed ruefully. “That doesn’t sound like a bad idea, actually. I’m so furious, and I don’t know what to do with it.” Sitting wasn’t going to work, so she got up and paced in the clearing. A rock cut the bottom of her foot, and she threw the offending object as hard as she could. “That selfish, arrogant bastard! I hope he’s burning in hell right now.”

“Don’t hold back—tell me how you really feel.”

“It’s not funny. Do you know that son-of-a-bitch owns the cabin? And the land. And this spot. My spot that I went to whenever I felt overwhelmed and angry because of how I was treated because of him. That’s why my mama never had to pay rent. That was his payoff. If she didn’t put his name on my birth certificate, she would have a roof over her head to raise his child.”

“Who is he? You haven’t said.”

“Haywood Masterson. You ever hear of him?”

J.T. let out a low whistle. “I sure as hell have. He owned a horse farm that has had some Derby contenders. His place is on the other side of Canton. I didn’t realize he owned land here, but that makes sense. Bill told me there used to be a lot of hunting cabins out here, back in the day. Little by little, the state has absorbed the acreage to add to the state forest.”

“Well, now I own it. Guess I’m your new landlady.”

“Good, the refrigerator is on the fritz and I want to paint the kitchen.”

Nadya laughed and felt some of the tension loosen from her shoulders. “I’ll get right on it.” She stopped her pacing and sat on the moss. “I don’t understand it. How could a forty-five-year-old man seduce a sixteen-year-old? And then abandon her when he got her pregnant? She lost everything—everything—and he lost nothing but his hunting cabin.” The sky darkened with an approaching storm, echoing her mood.

“He lost you. He lost the chance to watch you grow into the beautiful, successful woman you are today.”

“Thanks for that. Apparently, he was stirred to help there too. Some of the grants I got weren’t just because I scored well on my SATs. He created them so I would get them. They didn’t pay for everything, but they helped. He said he was proud of me when I graduated. Like he had any right to be proud. He should have felt ashamed.”

“Men like that don’t feel shame.”

“Obviously.” She threw another rock into the creek. “He had a wife and two sons and went chasing after my mama. And he had the gall, the absolute nerve to say he fell head over heels in love with her and it was the best time of his life. She was sixteen.” Tears leaked down her cheeks and she didn’t try to stop them.

Before she knew it, J.T.’s arms encircled her and she was sobbing into his chest. She cried for her mother who’d lost her family. She cried for herself and all the abuse she’d taken over the years. She cried at the unfairness of not being able to strike back at her father and hurt him as much as he’d hurt her.

Eventually, even the greatest storms blow themselves out, and her tears tapered off to sniffles and slowly stopped. The shoulder of J.T.’s white T-shirt was soaked through and had streaks of her makeup staining it. “I ruined your shirt,” she said, her voice still thick with tears.

“It’ll wash. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up and I’ll take you back to your car. Mary Ellen has probably worked herself into a frenzy by now.”

“Oh God, I told her I’d call her after the meeting.” She searched for her cell phone but realized she must have left it in her purse in J.T.’s truck.

“Don’t worry, I called her and said the meeting didn’t go well. She’s making brownies and brought home a bottle of wine.”

“Bless her.” Nadya accepted J.T.’s hand and he pulled her to her feet. They gathered their shoes and were just about to put them on when the skies opened up.

Thunder crashed in the distance, coming closer by the second. Sheets of rain poured down on them, soaking them instantly. Wind whipped the trees and leaves flew around them.

“Run!” J.T. shouted and they bolted for the path.

Sticks and prickers stabbed her bare feet as they ran. J.T. was ahead of her, leading the way. She had no idea how he could see anything through the rain streaming over them. Lightning flashed and the thunder nearly deafened her. He shouted something, but she couldn’t make it out over the ringing in her ears.

Soon, they broke through the bushes that hid the path, and J.T. scooped her up to carry her over the gravel driveway. He deposited her on the front porch where they were finally out of the fury of the storm. The rain beat down on the metal roof like gunfire.

Nadya took one look at J.T., soaked to the skin, leaves sticking to his neck and water running off him like spring snow-melt and burst into laughter. She didn’t just chuckle, she howled. Apparently, she didn’t look any better, because he let loose with a deep belly laugh and pointed to her hair.

She turned to look at her reflection in the window and saw her twist had come completely undone, and she had twigs and leaves caught in the curls sticking to her face and neck. Mud splattered her pants practically to her shins. This caused her to whoop even harder until she was doubled over.

“It’s…really…not…funny,” she gasped out. “These…were…Dolce and Gabbana.”

“Now they’re rags.” J.T.’s laughter trailed off to chuckles. “Wait here, I’ll get us some towels.” He stripped off his now thoroughly soaked T-shirt and dropped it with a plop onto the porch.

Nadya had bent over to squeeze some of the water out of her hair. As she straightened, she caught a full on view of J.T.’s bare chest.

His naked, muscular, tanned chest.

All laughter died instantly as her mouth watered. He’d been well built as a teenager, but as a grown man he was god-like. Light hair spiraled down from a mere dusting over his pecs to a thin line that disappeared into his jeans. Muscles rippled everywhere she looked. His abs were clearly defined, as was the scar that ran between his belly button and his hip bone. The cold had his nipples puckered, and she wanted nothing more than to lick the tiny, brown nubs.

Her brain stuttered to a halt as she drank him in. His arms bulged, and she noticed he had two tattoos. On one arm, he had a ring of barbed wire encircling his biceps. She couldn’t see the other one as well and was too stupefied to move closer for a better look. He was hard as a rock with not an inch of spare flesh on him anywhere. She knew she was staring but couldn’t seem to stop.

Tension thickened the air as the silence grew. Finally, she tore her eyes from the wide expanse of his chest to meet his gaze, and saw him just as dumbstruck as she’d been. He was staring at her with a hunger that was almost palpable.

She glanced down and was shocked to see her soaked blouse had gone completely transparent. Her lacy bra was visible, and her nipples poked through the thin satin, standing out as clearly as if she wore gauze.

Heat spread like wildfire, igniting every cell in her body until she thought she’d go up in flames from the way his eyes burned her. Time seemed to stand still as neither one of them moved. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed on its heels. Nadya jumped slightly, and that was all it took to break the spell. She was in J.T.’s arms, his mouth covering hers in a scorching kiss that incinerated every atom of her being.

She dug her fingers into the muscles of his back, clinging to him as he destroyed her with his lips and tongue. She couldn’t get close enough to him. She wanted to feel every last part of him against her. Her shirt was a nuisance, in the way of feeling skin against skin.

J.T. must have agreed because he tore the sleeveless blouse off her like it was made of tissue paper. He unhooked her bra in seconds and flung it away until they were finally bare flesh to bare flesh.

Another bolt of lightning and clap of thunder shook the earth around them. J.T. lifted her in his arms and she wrapped her legs around his waist. As he fumbled to open the door, she attacked the strong column of his throat, licking the cord that ran down to his muscular shoulders. She wanted to eat him up, to devour him.

Finally, they were through the door. J.T. kicked it shut behind him and carried her to the nearest flat surface, which happened to be the kitchen table. With one arm, he swiped off the newspaper and a coffee mug that thunked on the linoleum floor. He set her on the table and Nadya reached for the button of his jeans even as he was unhooking her slacks. In seconds, he’d yanked off her pants and underwear and was shoving his jeans to the floor.

Nadya let out a low hum of pleasure as his erection sprung free. The length of him was impressive, and she couldn’t wait to explore him. J.T. didn’t give her a chance for a better look as he pulled her hips to the edge of the table and stepped between her legs.

Every sense exploded as his muscular thighs rubbed the inside of hers. He gripped her behind in his strong hands and tilted her so his shaft rubbed along her *, sending sparks dancing along her nerve endings.

“You have the sweetest ass. I’ve had dreams about this ass,” he murmured as he licked and sucked his way down her throat to her breasts.

She fell back and braced herself on her elbows, which thrust her chest out even more. It was J.T.’s turn to hum with pleasure as he feasted on the lower swell of her breast. Nadya arched her back even more as he delicately nibbled his way to her aching nipple. Instead of drawing it into his mouth like she wanted him to, he blew a stream of cool air over it, tightening the bud further.

Tension had her insides in knots. Hot, lava-covered knots. She could feel his shaft as it glided along her mound, but she was empty inside. Empty and aching and desperate to be filled.

And still, he teased. He kneaded her butt cheeks, squeezing then letting go as his fingers crept nearer to her cleft. She thrust her hips, trying to get closer to his cock, encouraging him to fill her. When she reached for his shaft, he released her butt to grab both her wrists in one hand and hold them over her head.

“I’ve waited twelve years for the chance to get my hands on this luscious body of yours. I’m not going to rush it.”

“You’re killing me,” she gasped as he tormented her nipple, licking it then blowing air across it, but never fully drawing it into his mouth.

“Then you’ll die happy. I’ve had a long time to think about all the ways I want to touch you. All the wicked, wonderful things I want to do to your body.” He whispered a suggestion in her ear before he bit the lobe, and fluid gushed between her thighs.

Her head whipped back and forth as he trailed his free hand down her torso and fluttered over her hip bone. He grazed the curls covering her mound but didn’t linger. With her hands trapped over her head and her legs hanging off the table, she no longer had any leverage to thrust herself closer to his maddeningly wandering fingers.

Lightning flashed, illuminating his face. His eyes were hot with desire, burning over her like a brand. He stroked the soft flesh of her stomach, circling out from her belly button closer and closer to the spot that wept for him. Sweat trickled down his face, and she wanted to lick the salt from his skin. His jaw was clenched and the muscles of his shoulders were rigid with tension. Waiting must be as hard on him as it was on her.

“J.T.” She moaned as the blunt tip of his finger slid into the wetness of her nether lips.

“You’re so wet for me. So ready.”

“Yes!”

“Not yet.”

He released her wrists, but before she could grasp him, he knelt between her legs, pulling her to the very edge of the table. Her thighs were dangling so he draped them over his shoulders.

“Nadya, look at me. I want to watch you unravel.” He slipped his finger inside her channel and she moaned with the pleasure of it.

Her eyes rolled back as he drew the long digit out of her and thrust it in again. A second finger joined the first, stretching her. Still, he avoided the tight bud of nerves waiting for his touch.

“Look. At. Me.”

She forced her eyes open and met his blazing green ones as he dipped his head and sucked her * into his mouth while pumping his fingers inside her.

She didn’t just unravel, she exploded. Her shoulders lifted off the table with the force of her orgasm, and she let out a wordless cry as she rode the wave of pleasure crashing over her. Spasms shook her as he continued to lick the very center of her.

“No more. I can’t take any more.”

“Yes, you can.”

J.T. withdrew his fingers and traced them along the cleft of her behind. She shivered in delight as he teased her, but she didn’t want any more foreplay. She wanted him.

“Now. I want you in me now.”

“So demanding,” he chuckled, and she felt the rumble of it along her chest as he moved over her to torment her ear with his wicked tongue.

With her hands free, she could explore the shape of him and reached to gently caress the sac that dangled heavily beneath his cock. When she ran a fingernail along his length it was his turn to gasp. He dug his fingers into her hips as she swirled the fluid along the satiny head of his shaft. Under the smooth skin, he was rock hard.

She pumped her hand up and down his cock, drawing him closer to her center.

“Protection?” he ground out between clenched teeth.

“Pill.”

“Thank you, Jesus,” he groaned before he drove into her waiting warmth.

Nadya saw stars as he filled her. His cock stretched her and rubbed every nerve ending perfectly. Heat built and tension coiled all over again as he slowly withdrew and then hammered home again. She arched her hips and the angle sent off another storm of sensations, causing her to cry out in pleasure.

Looking up at J.T., she saw the muscle in his jaw vibrate as he clenched his teeth. Sweat ran off him, and the muscles of his shoulder and arms bulged. His head was thrown back and he was breathing heavily.

“I have wanted this so damn much, for so damn long.” His eyes blazed into hers.

He gripped her ass, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Me too.”

Their bodies slapped together and the table shook as he drove into her over and over again. Nadya clung to his forearms, digging her nails into his skin as the storm within her raged more fiercely than the one outside the cabin.

Her body coiled tighter and tighter until something finally snapped and she exploded in a starburst of pleasure. Wave after wave rolled over her as J.T. continued to plunge into her spasming body. It didn’t take long before he reached his own release.

He collapsed on top of her, pressing her into the table. She could barely breathe and didn’t much care. Every bone in her body had melted. She felt liquid and weightless and more satisfied than she ever recalled being in her entire life.

J.T. eased onto his arms, lifting the weight of his body off her. His thumb caressed her cheek and he just stared at her. She couldn’t read what was going on in his head by the expression on his face. He looked sated and something…more.

“It was worth the wait.”

Nadya laughed, which pushed him out of her body, and she mourned the loss. “I agree.”

He leaned down and kissed her tenderly. Something more than lust stirred in her gut, but she pushed it away. Right now she wanted to live in the moment. “I need to wash up before I ruin your table.”

“I’ll never look at it the same way again.” He effortlessly lifted her and set her on her feet.

Her knees buckled and he let out a low laugh that sounded way too prideful. She was about to make a comment to put him in his place when his cell phone rang. They both looked at his jeans on the floor where the annoying tone continued to trill.

“Damn. I’d better get that.” He retrieved the phone. “McBride.”

Nadya took the opportunity to scurry to the bathroom to regroup. She could hear him answering questions and hoped he didn’t have to go out in the storm.

As she cleaned up, she looked around her old home. Had it always been this stark? And with this much paneling? In her mind, she remembered colorful rugs and wall hangings filling the rooms. Multi-colored pillows had been scattered about, on the floors, beds and the beat-up old couch they’d gotten from the side of the road when they came back from a rare trip to Canton.

Now the wood floors lay bare except for a couple of tiny braided rugs, and the walls were empty of decoration. How did he stand this much knotty pine without any color? The bathroom had the same worn linoleum from her youth. Her heart thudded heavily as she remembered sitting on the floor counting the squares as her mama washed her face before bed.

Thoughts of Hornblower and her father tried to push their way into her consciousness but she thrust them aside with an act of will. She’d just had mind-altering sex. She wanted to enjoy the afterglow without thinking about…anything.

“Yup. Okay. Thanks.”

She heard J.T. end his call from the other room. Wrapping a towel around herself, she met him in the hall between the two bedrooms.

“That was Bill. He’s going to come by and pick up your keys, then he and Mary Ellen will bring your car back to their place.”

“That’s nice of him. What did you, ah, tell him?”

“I didn’t tell him that I had just nailed you on the kitchen table, if that’s why you’re blushing.”

“Jerk.” She poked his stomach.

“I told him you’d had a rough day and needed some peace and quiet, and I’d take you back to their place in the morning on my way to work.”

“Lord. What is Mary Ellen going to think?”

“I have no idea. All I know is that Bill told me if I didn’t do right by you he’d have to beat the tar out of me.”

“Do right by me? What’s that supposed to mean? Never mind, I don’t want to know.”

“I think we can leave it up to our own interpretation.” He tugged at the towel until it fell to the floor. “And my interpretation involves a steamy shower and lots of slippery skin.” His mouth grazed her lips and then trailed to her ear where he whispered in great detail what he planned to do with said slippery skin.

“I like how you think.”