“I don’t think that’s what you mean to say.” He let his jacket fall to the floor and started unbuttoning his vest. “What you mean to say is, ‘Oh, well done.’”
Anna reached up and pulled him down to her by tugging on a suspender.
“Well done,” she said against his mouth. “But I still need my cervical cap.”
He kissed her so thoroughly that she lost her train of thought. Jack reminded her by leaning over to open a drawer on the bedside stand. He brought out a familiar box.
“You are farsighted,” she said. “Very resourceful. Now, do you know what to do with it?”
? ? ?
“AND A QUICK study, too,” she said as he pulled her underneath him ten minutes later. She was already flushed, damp with perspiration, and a little embarrassed, Jack thought.
She arched against him, gasping. He leaned down to suckle the curve of her throat and tasted soap and salt and Anna. She was wriggling, undulating around him, pinned down by the simple fact of his possession, wet and hot and very tight, and Jack thought he would lose his mind if he didn’t start moving in her immediately, but he held off nonetheless.
The heel of her hand struck him above the ear and he laughed, pleased with her and himself.
“Jack,” she said, struggling, lifting against him. “Jack.”
“So impatient.” His mouth moved up her neck to her ear and the flesh underneath it, pulsing warm. He pressed the flat of his tongue there and felt her whole body tensing around him: a clenched fist, dragging at him.
“What are you waiting for?”
She was irritated with him, and he found, just now, he liked that. He kissed her mouth, soft and wet and greedy.
“You don’t like this?”
“You rotter.” Her feet slid up his legs, pressed his thighs. She dug her heels into the small of his back, arching to the exact angle he had been waiting for, the one that gave him the last inch he needed so that he could settle, finally, where he needed to be.
“Too much?” He rocked against her and she put her head back and groaned, a hoarse sound that made gooseflesh rise all along his back.
“Anna. Too much?”
“Jack. Don’t coddle me.”
She could still shock him, a kind of seduction all its own. He set out to test her resolve, and his own limits.
? ? ?
JACK’S PARENTS WERE at the dinner table, and Anna was stuck between them, caught in the web of their curiosity and ready affection. She desperately wanted to at least change her shirtwaist, but they had come in late. It would be rude to ask people to wait any longer. She just wished she could be sure she didn’t smell too much like, well, what she must smell like.
She had little appetite, but filling her plate was something to do while she talked to Mrs. Mezzanotte, who wanted to know about Weeds, which she had seen earlier in the afternoon. Anna didn’t look at Jack, but she knew he was grinning.
“It’s a fine house,” his mother said. “And it will be beautiful when it’s finished.” She had some furniture she thought would suit, and would send it to town the next time there was a greenhouse delivery. “Nothing elaborate,” she said. From her tone Anna got the idea that Celestina and Bambina had explained to their mother that Jack’s new wife had austere tastes.
She thought of linen curtains fluttering in the breeze and hoped her blush wasn’t too obvious.
“You will have to come to Greenwood before much longer,” Mrs. Mezzanotte said. “Or your new sisters-in-law will hunt you down.”
In her surprise, Anna let out an awkward laugh. “That sounds ominous.”
“Strong-minded women,” said Mr. Mezzanotte. “I married one, and so did all our sons. The noise sometimes.” He put down his fork and placed his hands over his ears to rock his head from side to side. “Incredible.” He winked at the little girls and said, “Come di cento scimmie.”
“Stop,” said Mrs. Mezzanotte. “They aren’t as bad as monkeys.”
“Yes they are,” said Jack. “But we love them anyway. All except Benedetta.”
“Jack!” his mother gasped.
“She’s so bossy,” Jack said. “Of course, so is Mariangela. I’m not sure which one would win a bossy cow contest.”
“First monkeys and now cows,” said Mrs. Mezzanotte. “Stop.” But she was smiling.
“Neither of them would win that contest,” said his father. “The prize would go to Susanna.”
Mrs. Mezzanotte’s mouth made a perfect O for three heartbeats, and then she shrugged, conceding the point. “Susanna,” she said. “No doubt about it.”
She turned to Anna. “We’ll scare you off.”
Aunt Quinlan laughed. “Not our Anna,” she said. “She’s made of sterner stuff than that. And she likes strong-minded women.”
“Because I was raised by them,” Anna agreed.
While Mrs. Mezzanotte talked at more length about her daughters-in-law—each of whom she clearly liked and loved—Anna was listening with half an ear to Lia as she told Jack a story, waving her fork in the air like a baton. Italian spilled out of her in a rush.