The Next Santini Bride
The Next Santini Bride
Maureen Child
When Angela Santini felt the power of First Sergeant Dan Mahoney' s smoldering gaze, she dared to throw caution to the wind. It had been so long since she' d be held, kissed, touched… But how was this straitlaced single mom supposed to know that one fantasy-filled night of passion with this mesmerizing marine would never be enough?Dan Mahoney knew the pitfalls of getting too close to soft-hearted Angela Santini and her lonely son. But if the elusive bachelor was so set on a life of solitude, why couldn' t he just stay away? Was it because this Cassanova in uniform might actually be… in love?
She Just Wasn’t The One-Night-Stand Kind Of Woman.
Rounding the edge of the old brick building, she looked up and saw Dan Mahoney. Arms folded across his chest, feet crossed at the ankles, he stared at her from across the lot, and even at a distance, Angela felt the power, the hunger, in his gaze.
Parts of her body struggling back to life throbbed and hummed with an electrical pulse. As she started toward him, her heels tapped loudly against the asphalt and kept time with the pounding of her heart.
He leaned toward her. “So, Angela,” he said softly, his voice whispering along her spine. “Do we still have a date?”
One last chance to back out, she told herself. To forget about the craziness of what she’d been planning and go home alone. But she knew that he was exactly what she needed. What she wanted.
There would be no backing out.
Not tonight…
Dear Reader,
As we celebrate Silhouette’s 20
anniversary year as a romance publisher, we invite you to welcome in the fall season with our latest six powerful, passionate, provocative love stories from Silhouette Desire!
In September’s MAN OF THE MONTH, fabulous Peggy Moreland offers a Slow Waltz Across Texas. In order to win his wife back, a rugged Texas cowboy must learn to let love into his heart. Popular author Jennifer Greene delivers a special treat for you with Rock Solid, which is part of the highly sensual Desire promotion, BODY & SOUL.
Maureen Child’s exciting miniseries, BACHELOR BATTALION, continues with The Next Santini Bride, a responsible single mom who cuts loose with a handsome Marine. The next installment of the provocative Desire miniseries FORTUNE’S CHILDREN: THE GROOMS is Mail-Order Cinderella by Kathryn Jensen, in which a plain-Jane librarian seeks a husband through a matchmaking service and winds up with a Fortune! Ryanne Corey returns to Desire with a Lady with a Past, whose true love woos her with a chocolate picnic. And a nurse loses her virginity to a doctor in a night of passion, only to find out the next day that her lover is her new boss, in Doctor for Keeps by Kristi Gold.
Be sure to indulge yourself this autumn by reading all six of these tantalizing titles from Silhouette Desire!
Enjoy!
Joan Marlow Golan
Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire
The Next Santini Bride
Maureen Child
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To my cousins, Jimmy and Doris Semon, who showed us
just how beautiful Louisiana really is. Thank you for
everything, you guys. We love you.
MAUREEN CHILD
was born and raised in Southern California and is the only person she knows who longs for an occasional change of season. She is delighted to be writing for Silhouette Books and is especially excited to be a part of the Desire line.
An avid reader, Maureen looks forward to those rare rainy California days when she can curl up and sink into a good book. Or two. When she isn’t busy writing, she and her husband of twenty-five years like to travel, leaving their two grown children in charge of the neurotic golden retriever who is the real head of the household. Maureen is also an award-winning historical writer under the names Kathleen Kane and Ann Carberry.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
One
“No man has a right to be that good-looking,” Angela Santini Jackson said, nodding toward a man standing on the opposite side of the room.
Her sister Marie Garvey leaned in close and whispered, “He is a hunk, isn’t he?”
Hunk barely covered it. The man had to be six feet four inches of solid muscle. His cheekbones were sharp enough to draw blood, and his eyes were a pale, brilliant green that seemed to glitter in his deeply tanned face.
He looked, Angela thought, like the poster boy for a don’t-let-your-daughter-near-this-man campaign. She smiled to herself. He looked her way, and their gazes locked. Embarrassed to be caught staring, Angela quickly realized she had two choices here—glance away quickly and pretend to be oblivious…or meet his gaze squarely and refuse to back down.
She went with the latter. After all, it was a free world. A woman should have the right to look at anyone she wanted to. Right?
A long minute or two passed in silent observation. All around them people wandered about the private dining room of the Bayside Crab Shack. Her youngest sister’s rehearsal dinner was almost over, and now the wedding party and their guests had time to chat. She heard snatches of conversations without really registering them. She knew her sister Marie was talking to her, but her voice sounded more like an annoying background buzz than anything else.
All she saw, all she focused on, was him. His eyes. The way he stood in the middle of everything and yet separate and apart from the crowd. It was as if he was off in his own world and was drawing her in there with him.
She shifted slightly in her seat, fought down the rush of warmth that slammed through her, and still couldn’t look away.
It was as if they were in one of those old movies, where the hero and heroine exchange glances across a crowded room and the rest of the world blurred as the director homed in on his stars.
And that wild thought was enough to break the spell holding her. She smiled to herself, and as she did, one corner of his mouth quirked up in a tilted smile, and he lifted his beer bottle in a mock salute as if to call their silent staring competition a draw.
Angela swallowed hard, gave him what she hoped was a regal nod, and when he looked away, turned her attention back to the sister who had now resorted to nudging Angela’s ribs with her elbow. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Funny,” Marie said, giving a quick look across the room at the tall man now talking to Gina’s fiancé, Nick. “I was just going to ask you the same thing.”
“What are you talking about?” Angela picked up a place card and used it as a minifan in a futile attempt to cool her still-heated blood.
“What exactly were you and Mr. Wonderful over there doing?”
She dropped the card back onto the table and straightened up in her seat. “We weren’t doing anything,” Angela said, though even she didn’t completely believe that. For the few seconds their gazes had been locked, she’d felt something almost…electrical pass between them. Oh, my, she thought, and reached for her glass of wine. Taking a sip, she let the cool liquid slide down her throat and hoped the chill would ease the last of the heat still crouched inside her.
“Not what it looked like from where I’m sitting,” Marie muttered.
“Get a new seat,” Angela told her shortly. Then, in an attempt to change the conversation, she pointed to their youngest sister and said, “Look at her. She’s practically glowing.”
Gina Santini smiled up at the man who would by this time tomorrow be her husband, and Nick Paretti bent down to claim a kiss.
“She’s happy,” Marie said simply.
“I hope she stays that way,” Angela whispered more to herself than to her sister. Then louder she said, “Still, it’s hard to believe that Gina’s getting married. It all happened so fast.”
“Maybe it’s contagious,” Marie mused as she held up her left hand to study the white-gold wedding band on her ring finger. “First me, then Gina, then…” She slid a glance at the woman beside her.
“Oh no, you don’t,” Angela said and held up both hands, making a cross out of her index fingers as if trying to ward off a vampire. “The phrase ‘been there, done that’ springs to mind.”
Marie huffed out a breath. “For heaven’s sake, Ange, just because you picked a lemon in the garden of love the first time around, doesn’t mean you’ll do the same thing again.”
“Thanks so much for that very pithy piece of advice,” Angela said with a nod. “But if you don’t mind, I’m staying out of that particular garden from now on.”
It was an old argument, Angela told herself. One she had no interest in reviving tonight. If her sisters wanted to get married, she would wish them every happiness and hope to high heaven that their marriages turned out better than hers had.
Old memories rose up in her mind, and Angela quickly pushed them back into the black hole where they were usually stored. This wasn’t the time to remember the pain and misery that had been her marriage. This was a night to hope and pray that Gina would be as happy as Marie was.
“Oh,” Marie said suddenly as an old, familiar tune swelled out of the speakers tucked discreetly into the four corners of the room. “I love this song. Think I’ll go find my handsome husband and force him to dance with me.”
Abandoned, Angela leaned back in her chair and took another sip of her wine. It was times like these when she most minded being single. All around the room couples were paired off, talking or dancing or laughing together. Even her eight-year-old son, Jeremy, was busy talking to the only other child in the room, a little girl he might normally have avoided like the plague.
She smiled to herself as she watched him. The one precious thing to have come out of marrying Bill Jackson was this little boy. And for the pleasure of having Jeremy in her life, she would be willing to go through all of it again.
“Who’s that smile for, I wonder?” a deep voice asked from beside her.
Angela started and glanced up into the green eyes that now seemed somehow familiar. Okay, it was one thing to stare at him with the safe distance of a room between them. It was quite another to have him so close she could smell his cologne.
And, oh, boy, did he smell good.
She cleared her throat and sat up straight, guiltily clearing her mind as though he could look into her eyes and see just what she was thinking. “My son,” she said, motioning toward the boy who was apparently explaining the proper batting stance to a very bored little girl.
“Nice-looking kid.”
“Thank you,” she said, and stood up, wanting to be on a more even footing than having to look up at him. Well, she thought, as she tipped her head back…and back…to meet his gaze, so much for that idea.
“You’re Angela, right?” he asked, shifting his gaze back to her and giving her that lopsided smile again.
Her stomach dropped as she nodded. He knew her name. How? Who had he asked about her?
“I’m Dan. Dan Mahoney.”
“Hi,” she said, silently congratulating herself on her sparkling wit and conversational abilities.
“I work with Nick,” he continued.
“You’re a Marine.”
He smiled again, and her toes curled. “Isn’t everyone?” he asked.
“In this room,” she conceded, “just about.”
Of course, that was to be expected when the groom to be was a Gunnery Sergeant. Heck, even Nick’s brothers, Sam and John, who had flown in for the ceremony, were Marines. And Nick’s father was an ex-Marine, if there was such a thing—which she doubted, since most of these guys seemed to be Marine right down to their bones.
She slid a glance at the Paretti boys, as she’d begun to think of them. Three brothers with jet-black hair, pale-blue eyes and more muscles than any three men had a right to. And not a one of them did a thing for her.
“Angela?” Dan said, and she drew her attention back to the man standing dangerously close to her. This man, on the other hand, seemed to have some weird effect on her nerves.
“Would you like to dance?” he asked.
“Dance?”
“Yeah,” he said, that smile firmly in place. “You know, moving back and forth in tandem to a specific rhythm?”
Well, duh. God, why was she being such an idiot? Had it really been so long since she’d spoken to a man? Good heavens, had she kept herself so locked away that a conversation with a handsome man could actually paralyze her?
Apparently so. She swallowed hard, sucked in a breath and forced herself to say, “I’d love to.”
“Good,” he said, taking her hand and heading for the small patch of parquet tiles passing itself off as a dance floor.
Angela concentrated on the feel of her hand in his. Wow. It was really an amazing sensation. Flesh pressed to flesh. Warm, strong fingers folded around her own. She hadn’t even realized just how starved she’d been for a simple touch. And now that she had, other parts of her body were demanding a little attention, too.
That thought even surprised her.
In the midst of the other dancers, Dan pulled her into his arms and started swaying in time to the music. He held her right hand in his left and kept it tucked close to his chest. She felt his heartbeat beneath her hand, and the steady, even beat of it calmed her even as it excited her. It had been too long, she thought, as she began to relax and follow his lead. Too long since she’d danced with anyone but an exuberant Jeremy. Too long since she’d felt the hard strength of a man’s arm around her waist, the press of his body against hers.
“You’re a good dancer,” he said, and his breath brushed her ear even as his voice rumbled along her spine.
“Thanks,” she said, pulling her head back in self-defense. She was way too close to him for comfort. “You’re a good liar.”
He laughed shortly. “Okay, so neither one of us is Fred Astaire.”
Nope, this slow turn in a tight circle would hardly qualify as great dancing, but Angela didn’t care. It was way more than she’d had in years. “Doesn’t matter,” she said. “It’s nice.”
“Yeah,” he said softly, letting his right hand smooth up and down her back, “it is.”
Angela shivered, and her eyes closed as she savored the feelings he inspired in her. Oh boy. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea, living like a recluse for the past three years. She was way overreacting to this situation.
“You’re beautiful,” he said.
Her eyes opened, and she stared up into those green eyes. If this was his regular line, it was pretty good. But it wouldn’t do to let him know she was in desperate danger of falling for it. “And like I already said, you’re a good liar.”
“Not this time, lady,” he whispered.
Her stomach flip-flopped, and her mouth went dry.
There was something happening here. Something that ran in a tense, hot undercurrent. The calm, rational side of her, the side that had had her in hiding for the past three years, was telling her to run fast and run far. The other side however, urged her to get closer. Urged her to enjoy this moment in time.
“Can I steal my sister for a minute?”
They both turned toward the woman speaking, and briefly Angela considered telling her little sister to take a hike. But something in Gina’s eyes stopped her.
So instead, she reluctantly slipped out of Dan Mahoney’s grasp and said, “Thanks for the dance.”
“My pleasure, ma’am,” he said, then gave her a slow wink before drifting off toward a cluster of Marines.
Sighing for opportunities lost, Angela turned to her sister and asked, “Okay, little sister, what’s up?”
“Nothing yet, I hope,” Gina muttered, glancing over her shoulder at Dan.
“What are you talking about?” Honestly, she loved her sister, but…
“Stay away from that guy,” Gina blurted out.
“Excuse me?” She stared down at her sister in disbelief.
Muttering, “Come on,” the younger woman grabbed her arm and dragged her across the room toward the open double doors leading to a brick patio.
A cool ocean breeze wafted into the room, and in the press of people, the chill was welcome. Stepping outside, Angela sent a quick look up at a star-filled sky, took a deep breath, then looked at Gina. “This had better be good.”
“Nick says you should keep your distance from him.”
“Oh, Nick says.” Angela nodded and threw her hands wide. “Well, sure. Why didn’t you say so?”
“Angie, he says that Dan’s a nice guy, but he’s a one-night stand kind of man.” Gina shook her head. “Not really the type for you, y’know.”
Amazing. Her younger sister giving her advice on men, for heaven’s sake. Although, she had to admit that Gina probably knew what she was talking about. After all, she’d already decided that Dan Mahoney was a smooth talker. But whether she listened or not should be up to her.
“How about you guys letting me decide who my type is?”
Gina pushed her hair out of her eyes, winced as if she knew she’d stepped into something, then tried to salvage it. “Nobody’s telling you to do anything.”
“You did,” Angela reminded her. “You said to ‘stay away from that guy.”’
“Okay, I put it badly, but I just wanted you to be careful….”
Careful? She hadn’t been on a date, had in fact, hardly spoken to a man in the past three years. What could be more careful? For the first time in ages she was dancing with an attractive man, feeling those feelings she remembered so vaguely, and what happens? Her family comes so unglued you’d think she was a vestal virgin being slated for sacrifice.
Geez. If she wanted to do something daring…something out of character…something dangerous, wasn’t she old enough to make that choice for herself?
“Gina—”
“Angela,” her sister interrupted, “we’ve all been trying to get you back into the dating pool for years. I just don’t want you to drown on your first time out.”
She looked so concerned, Angela let her anger dissolve into nothingness. Reaching out, she pulled Gina into a tight hug then held her at arm’s length and said, “Okay, I swear, if I start going down for the count, I’ll give a yell, okay?”
Although right now the thought of drowning in Dan Mahoney’s pale-green eyes didn’t sound like such a bad idea at all.
Two
“We ought to get together,” Sam Paretti said. “Brother of the groom, sister of the bride…how perfect is that?”
Angela looked up at him and grinned. She couldn’t help it. After meeting Nick’s two brothers, Sam and John, she was willing to admit that the Paretti men were not only gorgeous, but charming, too. God had been on a real roll when he’d created these three.
“It’s perfect, all right,” she said, “heck, it’s practically a romance novel.”
“There you go,” Sam said, and glanced toward the bride and groom. “They look happy, don’t they?”
“Yes, they do,” she said, watching her little sister dance with her new husband. Her wedding dress swirled around her in a froth of lace and tulle, and the smile on her face was bright enough to light the room. The man guiding her proudly around the dance floor looked handsome in his Dress-Blue uniform, and together they made an almost fairy-tale picture.
A pang of something sharp and bittersweet twinged around her heart. So much hope, so much love. Angela said a quick, fervent prayer that Gina and Nick would always be as happy as they were tonight.
Old tunes poured from the stereo system set up on the auditorium’s stage. The church hall was decorated in rose and white balloons, and baskets of fresh flowers dotted every table. The caterers had served dinner, and now it was time for everyone to enjoy the party celebrating Gina and Nick’s marriage.
Everything was changing so quickly. Just a few short months ago all of the Santini women had been sharing the family house. Now, it would be just Mama, Angela and Jeremy.
Her sisters were now officially halves of couples.
Marie and Davis.
Gina and Nick.
Angela and…she took a sip of champagne and turned away from the happy couple. No point in torturing herself, was there? Besides, it wasn’t as if she wanted a husband. Not again. She just didn’t want to end up a lonely old woman talking to cats and bothering her only son about bringing the grandchildren by more often.
Oh yeah, she thought grimly. Have some more champagne, it’s really helping your attitude.
“So,” Sam said, drawing her attention back to him, “what do you say to a dance with a lonely Marine?”
Lonely? She had a feeling Sam Paretti had never had a lonely day in his life.
“Sure,” she said, “I—”
“Sorry, Marine,” a deep voice said from behind Angela, “she’s promised this one to me.”
Angela’s breath caught in her throat, and her stomach flip-flopped wildly.
“Is that right?” Sam asked, looking down at Angela.
“Uh,” she cleared her throat, swallowed hard and said, “do you mind?”
The two men stared at each other for a long moment before Sam finally nodded. “I’ll see you later, Angela.”
“Thanks,” she said as he turned and moved off into the crowd, leaving her alone with the man she’d been catching glimpses of all day.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he said in a throaty whisper that tingled along her spine.
A quick spurt of excitement sizzled through her bloodstream as she turned around to face Dan. They’d both been so busy doing wedding party things, they hadn’t spoken since last night’s interrupted dance. Well, they’d done more than just spoken, in Angela’s dreams, but since he didn’t know about that, it probably didn’t count.
“Was I that hard to find?” she asked.
“Not for me,” he said, leaning one hand on the wall above her head and bending closer. “I used to be Recon. Reconnaissance. The guys who go in, get what needs getting and get out.”
He leaned in even closer, and Angela swore she could feel the warm brush of his breath against her cheek. Or maybe that was just her own heated blood flushing her face.
“You should know, I’ve been warned about you,” Angela said as she looked up into the green eyes that had haunted her dreams all last night.
“Me?” Dan answered with that slow, crooked smile that was guaranteed to breach any defenses. “I’m harmless, lady.”
Oh yeah, she believed that. And chocolate had no calories when eaten at midnight. Ha! She took another sip of champagne and silently reminded herself that she was on a mission here. She didn’t want harmless. She wanted dangerous.
If just for tonight.
Actually, Gina’s warning the night before had been the deciding factor in this. Knowing that Dan was interested in nothing more than a one-night stand made it all so easy. She could have one night of magic after far too long a dry spell, and there wouldn’t be a single string attached. Well, except for the guilt strings she was already experiencing. Honestly, you wouldn’t think it would be so hard for a twenty-eight-year-old widow to seduce a man. Another swallow of champagne followed the last, and a part of her brain reminded her that she wanted to be loose, not unconscious. But heck, who could blame her for trying a little liquid courage? It wasn’t as if she did this every day.
“Harmless, huh?” she asked, giving him a smile she hoped was sexy. It had been so long, she couldn’t be sure. “That’s not what I hear.”
“Who’s been talking?”
Oh, brother, that smile of his should be classified as a lethal weapon. It did amazing things to a woman’s equilibrium.
“Who hasn’t?” she quipped.
“And do you always believe what you hear?” he asked, letting his gaze slide across her body with a slow, deliberately casual thoroughness.
Boy, he was better than she’d given him credit for. Her skin felt tight, and parts of her body she’d thought atrophied were galloping back to life. This was moving so fast she could hardly keep up. Taking a moment to calm down a bit, she looked around the room…actually, she looked anywhere but into those green eyes.
Angela studied the faces surrounding her, both familiar and strange. Dozens of Marines were sprinkled through the crowd, and she had to admit there was something about a man in a Dress-Blue uniform. It was an unfair advantage, really. No red-blooded woman, especially one who’d been living a celibate life for more than three years, could resist.
And the simple truth was, Angela didn’t want to resist. She’d made up her mind what she was going to do the minute her sister Gina had told her that Dan was known on base as the king of the one-night stands. And she wasn’t going to back out now.
“Want to try to finish our dance?” Dan asked, breaking into the thoughts swirling ceaselessly through her mind.
She inhaled and swiveled her head to look at him.
“For starters,” she said bravely, and watched as desire flickered in the depths of his eyes. She half turned to set her champagne glass on the closest table, then he took her hand and led her through the crowd. Angela’s gaze fixed on his broad back, narrow hips and long legs. A curl of anticipation unwound inside her, and her mouth went dry.
Ever since the night before, Angela hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. Sure, he was tall, dark and gorgeous. So were most of the other guys in the room. But there was something about First Sergeant Mahoney that made her blood boil and her usually cautious nature want to fly out the window.
And just for tonight, she was going to let it.
As they came to the middle of the dance floor, the music changed, shifting from a fast-paced, rock and roll number to an old Frank Sinatra standard. The voice of Ol’ Blue Eyes swept into the room and was welcomed like an old friend. If she hadn’t known better, she would have sworn Dan had planned it this way.
Dan pulled her into his arms and pressed her body to his. Her mouth went dry, and her head swam. She wasn’t sure if it was the four or five glasses of champagne or the heady sensation of being held by a man again that was making her feel almost dizzy. And she didn’t care. It was enough to be feeling again. To be experiencing that swift, sure punch of desire. The lick of flames at her center. The pooling warmth that threatened to collapse her knees and rob her of breath.
His right hand dropped to the curve of her behind as he eased her around the crowded dance floor. Subtly he pulled her tight against him. Hard and strong, his body pressed into hers, letting her know what she was doing to him. A rush of confidence filled her. She could still attract a man. Apparently the past three years of being a mom and a widow hadn’t robbed her of her abilities to be a woman.
On his shoulder her left hand clutched at the fabric of his uniform. She leaned her head back to look up at him and struggled to continue breathing as he kept her pressed tightly to him.
“I sure hope I’m reading you right,” Dan said, staring down at the woman he wanted more than his next breath.
She swallowed hard, then smoothed her left hand across his shoulders and down his back. “Trust me on this. If you weren’t reading me right, you’d have known by now.”
“Fair enough,” he said, nodding, “but just to be safe, I’ll say it plain. A simple no will end this. Now.”
She stared at him, and he saw his own reflection in the soft-brown of her eyes. “And what does a yes get me?”
Dan’s body tightened even further which he would have thought impossible a minute or two ago. Damn. He hadn’t been expecting this. Stand up at his friend’s wedding and end up sleeping with the friend’s new sister-in-law?
“Lady,” he said on a soft exhale of breath, “a yes will get you any darn thing you want.”
She gave him a slow smile that set a match to the dynamite stacked inside him.
“That covers a lot of territory, First Sergeant.”
“Yes ma’am,” he promised, his brain filling with images of the night to come, “it surely does.”
“Good,” she said, and moved even closer to him, taking what little of his breath was left. “Then it’s a date? After the bride and groom leave?”
“If I can wait that long,” he said.
“It’ll be worth the wait,” she assured him, and stepped out of his arms as the song ended.
“Damn straight,” he said tightly. He watched her as she moved back through the crowd, headed toward her sister. Her shoulder-length, dark-brown hair curved under at the ends and swung gently with each step she took. She wore a dark-pink bridesmaid’s dress with a high collar, long sleeves and a full skirt that fell to her feet and brushed the floor in a soft, swishing sound as she moved. And that dress looked so damn good on her, he wondered if there was any way to convince Nick and Gina to take off on their honeymoon now.
“You’re sure, honey?” Maryann Santini asked for the fiftieth time in the last ten minutes. “It just doesn’t seem fair, all of us leaving you at the same time. I mean, Nick and Gina of course deserve their honeymoon, but it doesn’t seem right for me to take off on a cruise right now.”
“You and Margaret have been planning this for weeks,” Angela reminded her mother patiently.
“I know, but now Jeremy’s going to be gone, and even Marie and Davis are leaving town for a week.”
Angela smiled at the thought of her eight-year-old son, but as much as she loved him, she was glad he’d asked to spend the weekend with his best friend. Especially now. With the plans she had for later tonight, home was no place for her son tonight.
“I’ll be fine, Mama,” she said, giving her mother a quick hug. “I’m a big girl, remember? I don’t need a baby-sitter for heaven’s sake. I’m actually looking forward to spending some time alone.” Not completely alone, of course, but her mother didn’t have to know that.
“All right, then,” the older woman said, obviously still not convinced. “I’ll only be gone ten days, and…”
The rest of her mother’s words drifted into a stream of sound as Angela watched the last of the wedding guests filter out of the hall. The past two hours had crawled by. All she’d been able to think about was being alone with Dan Mahoney. It had been so long. So long since she’d been held, kissed, touched. Her body burned with an intensity she’d never known before. Every square inch of her skin seemed alive with sensation, as if she could almost feel his hands on her already.
“Are you listening to me?” her mother asked, laying one hand on Angela’s forearm.
She jumped slightly, then tried to laugh it off. “I’m sorry, I must be tired.”
“Actually your eyes look a little feverish,” Mama said, frowning. “Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”
Oh, she was feverish all right, but it was nothing aspirin could cure.
“I’m fine, Mama,” she said, looking past her mother to the car pulling up opposite the doorway. “Look, there’s Margaret now. You’d better hurry or you’ll miss your plane.”
“All right then,” Mama said, giving into the excitement of her first cruise. “You take care and make sure you lock the house and—”
“For heaven’s sake, Mama,” she said, impatience stampeding through her, “go.”
“Okay, I’m going.” Shaking her head, she hurried to her friend’s car, opened the door and got in. Then with a wave of her hand and a honk of the horn, she was off.
Angela pulled in a deep breath and blew it out again. Alone. Finally alone. Jeremy had gone home with his friend Mike, the caterers would clean up the mess in the hall, Mama was taken care of. And that meant that for the first time in too long, Angela Santini Jackson, mother, daughter, sister, widow, could be, for tonight, anyway, simply Angela.
She headed for the parking lot on suddenly shaky legs. Her stomach spun, her mind raced as she asked herself if she was doing the right thing. This was so not her.
She just wasn’t the one-night stand kind of woman.
Rounding the edge of the old brick building, she dug in her purse for her keys, and when she looked up, she saw Dan Mahoney, spotlit in the soft yellow glow of a parking lot lamp, leaning negligently against the hood of his car. Arms folded over his chest, feet crossed at the ankles, he stared at her from across the lot, and even at a distance Angela felt the power, the hunger in his gaze.
Her heartbeat quickened, and the parts of her body struggling back to life throbbed and hummed with an electrical pulse. She paused only briefly, then started toward him. Her heels tapped loudly against the asphalt and kept time with the pounding of her heart.
Her car was parked just a few spaces away from his. She stopped at the driver’s side door, unlocked it and then looked at him.
He straightened up, moved over to her car and leaned both forearms on the roof. “So, Angela,” he said softly, his voice whispering along her spine, “do we still have a date?”
She closed her eyes briefly, then looked at him again. If she said no, he’d leave, no harm done. There it is, she told herself. One last chance. One final opportunity to back out. To forget about the craziness of what she’d been planning and go back to her house alone.
She could pack away the box of condoms she’d purchased the night before and slide into her empty bed. She could dream her dreams and do without the soft slide of this man’s hands on her skin.
Instead of feeling a man’s arms around her, she could sit in the darkness and regret not having had the courage to take what she wanted. To, for once, put her own needs ahead of everyone else’s.
The chilly, damp air swirled around her, and in the soft tendrils of fog blowing in off the ocean, he looked almost otherworldly. As if he was only the dream image of a man. But she knew he was all too real, and that’s exactly what she needed. What she wanted.
There would be no backing out.
Not tonight.
Swallowing hard, she said only, “I haven’t changed my mind.”
He nodded. “Me, neither.”
Oh, my. The flash of desire glinted in his eyes and set off sparks deep within her. Her heart galloped, and she sucked in a gulp of air before opening the car door with a shaky hand. Then she looked directly into those amazing eyes of his and said, “You can follow me to my house.”
He gave her a slow smile and nodded. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Three
Damn. He felt as keyed up as some randy teenager in the back seat of his father’s Buick. Dan kept his gaze locked on Angela’s taillights as she drove along the narrow streets toward her home. She made a left, turning onto a residential block that even in the darkness looked quiet and cozy. A Leave It to Beaver kind of neighborhood that ordinarily would have set off his internal radar and had him running in the opposite direction.
But not tonight.
Tonight there was nowhere else he’d rather be. Angela Jackson had dogged his mind and haunted his every thought since the moment he’d met her, and now he had to have her. If she’d sent him away, he would have had to crawl. His body was so eager for the joining that a no from her might have killed him.
Expectation whispered inside him and his body, already hard and ready, tensed further as she signaled a left turn into a driveway.
He glanced at the California bungalow-style house as he passed it. Then, making a U-turn in the middle of the block, he came back around and parked at the curb. Shutting off the engine, he took a moment to listen to the profound stillness. Slowly he swiveled his head to watch her climb out of her car.
Silhouetted against the backdrop of the porch light, he couldn’t see her face, but he read her tension in every line of her body. Her tall, slim figure swayed a bit, and her floor-length skirt rippled around her.
Grabbing his keys, he got out of the car, locked it and shut the door with a solid thump that seemed to echo off the silent houses staring at him with dark windowpane eyes. Walking around the back of his car, he headed toward her. She didn’t move, simply stood there, waiting for him.
His heart thundered in his chest, and when he came close enough to read her expression, even that beat accelerated. Desire, need, hunger, all shone in her eyes, feeding the emotions nearly strangling him.
He reached out and laid one hand on her forearm. She shivered. Whether from eagerness or hesitation, he couldn’t be sure. To satisfy the gentleman still crouched at the feet of the beast within, he forced himself to say softly, “Angela, if you don’t want this, just say so.”
She laughed shortly and tipped her head back to look up at him. “Want it?” she repeated, her voice thick and husky. “Dan, I want it so much it scares me.”
That’s all he needed to know. Turning her around, he led her toward the house and the brightly lit porch. They took the steps together, already moving as one, setting an unconscious rhythm. She fumbled with the keys, dropped them and Dan bent down to scoop them up.
“That one,” she said.
He nodded, jammed it home and turned it. The lock snicked open, he turned the knob and ushered her inside. He stepped in right behind her, closed and locked the door, then turned to look at her.
Their gazes locked.
A heartbeat passed, then another.
Angela dropped her purse.
He let the keys clatter to the hardwood floor.
Then she was in his arms. He didn’t know how she got there. He didn’t remember moving toward her. He didn’t know or care how they’d come together. He only knew that he couldn’t seem to hold her close enough.
Taking her mouth, he plundered her, parting her lips with his tongue, sweeping past any defenses she might have raised if she’d had time to think. He claimed her mouth fiercely, thoroughly. Again and again, his tongue mated with hers, twisting, twining, exploring and tasting. He sought her treasures, her secrets, and once he found them, searched for more. His hands moved up and down her back, over the curve of her behind where his fingers grabbed hold and squeezed, pulling her tightly to him.
Pressing her body to the straining, hard arousal that had tortured him all night brought a wave of pleasure so deep and rich it staggered him. He wanted more. He wanted it all.
Shifting his hands to the front of her dress, he slid them up, up past the swell of her breasts, to the wide collar that dipped so enticingly across her shoulders. He skimmed his fingertips across her skin and smiled to himself when she trembled in his grasp.
He tore his mouth from hers, and while she struggled to draw air into heaving lungs, he bent his head to kiss the curve of her neck. To taste the warmth of her skin, to tantalize her as she did him.
“Oh, my,” she said on a short sigh, and tipped her head to one side, “that feels so—”
“Good,” he finished for her.
“Beyond good,” she assured him and leaned into him, pressing her breasts against his chest.
“I want to feel you,” he said, letting his hands slide to the zipper at the back of her dress.
“Oh, yeah,” she muttered, “that’d be good.”
He smiled and tugged at the zipper, letting his fingertips trail along the line of exposed flesh as he went.
She shivered, and he groaned. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and that fact fed the fires. Nothing stood between him and the feel of her breasts in his palms. The zipper went down, down, to just above the curve of her butt. Smooth skin called out for his touch and he obliged. Running his palms up and down her back, he worked the dress off and let it drop to a pool at her feet.
Angela stepped out of the fabric and kicked it aside.
The chill air in the room crawled over her body, and she hardly felt it. Her blood was boiling, and that was enough to keep her warm. She watched him watch her, and for the first time in years, worried about the lacy pattern of stretch marks across her not-entirely flat belly.
She wasn’t exactly a cover model, after all. But when he lifted his hands and cupped her breasts, she stopped thinking. Who could care about stretch marks when his thumbs were stroking her already-pebbled nipples?
Angela rocked on her heels and closed her eyes. Sensation after sensation poured through her. From the top of her head to the tips of her toes, she was awash in the glory of feeling. It had been so long, so terribly long since her body had known the touch of a man.
She opened her eyes again and looked up into his heated gaze. Apparently, the same hunger tearing through her had a grip on him, too. Boldly, she reached up and fumbled with the brass buttons on his uniform tunic. Licking her lips, breathing hard, she worked at them until the Dress-Blue jacket was unbuttoned, unbelted, hanging open. She laid the flat of her hands against his white T-shirt-covered chest and felt the slam of his heartbeat against her palm.
Then he growled…actually growled…and yanked her to him. In seconds the rest of their clothes were gone, tossed aside, and she was held flush against his warm, naked, outrageously muscled body.
His hands swept up and down her back, then up and around to caress her breasts again. Every square inch of her body was electrified. Every nerve pushed to its breaking point. Desperate need coiled within her, building, growing, blossoming until she thought she might be consumed by it—and still she wanted more.
Dropping to the floor, he cushioned her head with his forearm and let his right hand slide down her length to the apex of her thighs. She held her breath, arched her back and lifted her hips in anticipation. His fingers dipped into her warmth, and her body exploded.
“Dan!” she cried, and clutched at him as a wild rush of tremors coursed through her. One after the other, tumbling into each other, never giving her a chance to catch her breath, the tiny explosions went on and on.
He held her tightly as the unexpectedly fierce climax claimed her. She rocked her hips against his hand, buried her face in the crook of his neck and rode the wave of sensation that carried her into a place she hardly remembered.
And when it was finally over and the last tremor shivered through her, she looked up at him. Good heavens, they’d hardly begun and she’d already finished. How mortifying was that? In a ragged voice she said, “It’s been a long time. I’m sorry that happened so quickly.”
He shook his head and smiled before leaning down to brush a kiss across her mouth. “Don’t be sorry. I’m not.”
Then he reached behind him for his trousers and fumbled one-handed for the pocket. Pulling out a foil-wrapped condom, he looked down at her. “I could use a little help with this, since I’ve only got the one free hand.”
Keeping her gaze locked with his, she reached for it, tore it open, then slowly sheathed him. His eyes closed at her touch, and he moved closer. Angela wrapped her fingers around him, caressing him with smooth determined strokes. He arched into her and in seconds, her breath was coming fast, need coiled again inside her and she shifted into him, urging him to cover her. To fill her.
“Enough!” he muttered thickly, suddenly and moved to position himself between her thighs. Angela stared up at him as his fingers toyed with her tender flesh, smoothing, touching, exploring. She twisted and writhed in his grasp, giving herself up to the amazing things happening to her. In the glow of the foyer light, she watched his eyes darken and narrow with want and need, and she planted her feet firmly on the smooth wood floor and lifted her hips to welcome his first hard thrust.
She gasped at the intrusion, and a moment later felt her body adjust to his presence. Again and again he moved within her, setting a wild, fierce rhythm that she rushed to meet. She lifted her legs to lock them around his hips, pulling him tighter against her and deeper within her. Each time he withdrew, she wanted to moan the loss of him, and each time he rejoined their bodies, she wanted to shout at the glorious rightness of it.
He leaned over her, bracing his weight on his palms. Locking his gaze with hers, he set a soul-shattering pace that ended in a climax so powerful, so incredible, all Angela could do was hold on and hope she survived long enough to enjoy the afterglow.
And when she heard him groan tightly, she wrapped her arms around him and cushioned his fall.
Minutes…or maybe hours…flew by before either of them had the strength to move. Dan finally shifted to one side of her, pulling her with him, drawing her head onto his shoulder.
“That was,” she said, and heard the hollowness in her own voice, “amazing.”
He chuckled, and the sound rumbled through his chest. “Amazing is a pretty good word for it,” he admitted, letting his hand slide up and down her arm.
“Well,” she said, still enjoying the ripples of satisfaction trembling through her body. “I guess we could get up off the floor, huh?”
“What’s the hurry?”
She tipped her head back on his shoulder and looked into hungry green eyes. “Hurry?” she whispered, then cleared her throat and tried again. “No hurry, but…well, we are finished and—”
“Finished?” he asked with a shake of his head, “We’re just getting started.”
“We are?” Oh, Lord, her heart was sure to pound right out of her chest any minute.
“Oh, yeah,” Dan said, and shifted slightly to raise up on one arm. Trailing his fingertips along her body, from breast to hip, he smiled at the row of goose bumps that danced in his wake. “This time we take it slow.”
“This time?” she repeated. Heck, she hadn’t recovered from the first time yet. Or the second mind-numbing climax. She had just spontaneously combusted all over her mother’s shining wood floor.
Oh, she would never dust in here in peace again.
“This time,” he said again, and rolled her onto her stomach before she could argue with him.
The cool wood planks beneath her lent another erotic touch to the moment. Spread-eagled on the foyer floor was not an image she’d ever had of herself. Yet here she lay, naked and eager for round two.
Then she felt his mouth at the base of her spine. His lips and tongue moved on her flesh and Angela shivered, clenching and unclenching her fists on nothingness, futilely looking for something to hold on to.
He spoke, and his breath brushed against her skin. “I’m going to start at your spine, Angel,” he said. “Because your spine is connected directly to your brain. And this time I’m going to make love to your mind as well as your body.”
Oh, my, she thought and let her eyes close.
He kissed her, running his lips and tongue along the column of her spine, tasting her, learning every curve, every line. He’d wanted her so badly right from the start and now that he’d had her, enjoyed her, felt her body cradling his, it wasn’t enough. He wanted even more of her, and this was a first for him.
Usually, when that initial rush of desire had been sated, he was content, and ready to move on. He didn’t want commitment. Relationships. Now, though, with this woman, all Dan could think of was more. More of her. More of them.
His hands drifted over her flesh, and when she stirred beneath him, he knew her body, too, was flickering back into life. Back into need. At the nape of her neck, he nibbled at her skin until rows of goose bumps dotted her back and shoulders. She writhed beneath him, but he didn’t ease her discomfort, instead, he stoked it. With touch after touch, kiss after kiss, he fed the fires engulfing them both and hoped they’d be consumed by them.
And when touching her wasn’t enough any more, he turned her over, scooped her into his arms and muttered, “Bedroom?”
“Upstairs,” she whispered, locking her arms around his neck and laying her head on his chest. “Hurry.”
“You bet,” he said, and took the stairs two at a time.
“Second door.”
“Right.” He went up to it, stepped into a cool, mint-green room with a lacy cover on the bed and more lace covering the windows, where moonlight tried to peek through the patterns of frothy fabric.
Walking directly to the bed, he reached down with one hand and swept the coverlet down to the foot of the mattress. Then he laid Angela down atop the pale-green sheets and stretched out beside her. Dipping his head to her breasts, he took first one nipple and then the next into his mouth.
Her hands fisted in his hair as she held him tightly to her. His tongue stroked the pebbly surface of her nipples, and he tasted them both until he’d had his fill. Until she was moving and moaning beneath him. And then he began again.
“Dan…” she whispered, arching into him, turning toward him. “I need you. Now.”
“Slow this time, Angel. Slow for both of us.” Though it killed him to maintain control, he wanted to make this last. To make this joining even more complete than the first.
She chuckled harshly and shook her head. “I don’t think I can stand slow.”
He smiled against her breast and let one hand slide down along her body to the warm heart of her.
She gasped as he cupped her and lifted her hips into his touch.
“Oh, now I know I can’t wait much longer.”
“It gets better,” he assured her.
“Impossible,” she murmured, twisting her hips into his touch.
“Trust me,” he said and shifted, moving down along her body, trailing damp kisses and silent promises as he went.
He glanced up at her and saw her hands pulling at the fine linen sheets, and holding them tightly. And he smiled to himself, enjoying the fact that he could bring her to this point again so soon after that mind-numbing pleasure they’d shared only moments ago.
“Dan…Dan,” his name came on a gasp of sound as her breath quickened. She licked dry lips and tossed her head from side to side on the pillow as she tried to find the release only he could give her.
He moved to take a place between her thighs and, kneeling, lifted her behind off the bed in a gentle, firm grip. His fingers kneaded the tender flesh as he lifted her higher and bent his head to taste her.
Angela gasped aloud and looked at him as his mouth took her places she hadn’t dreamed existed. No man ever had done this to her before. And she wouldn’t have believed that she would not only allow it, but luxuriate in the sensations she was feeling.
He’d been right. He’d claimed not only her body but her mind this time. Her brain spinning, her heartbeat thundering in her ears, she struggled to hold on to what was left of her sanity as another part of her raced toward the release she knew was awaiting her.
His mouth and tongue tortured her with sweet deliberation. His breath dusted across tender flesh as he pushed her higher, higher until she felt as though the air was too thin to breathe. And just when she thought she couldn’t bear the suspense any longer, his intimate kiss sent her spiraling over the edge of sanity into a soft oblivion.
And a moment later Dan’s body entered hers, and in a few quick, hard thrusts, he found a sense of completion he’d never known before.
As he collapsed atop her, he realized that here, in the quiet rooms of a well-tended home, he’d made her his and fallen into a tender trap he’d never seen coming.
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Maureen Child
When Angela Santini felt the power of First Sergeant Dan Mahoney' s smoldering gaze, she dared to throw caution to the wind. It had been so long since she' d be held, kissed, touched… But how was this straitlaced single mom supposed to know that one fantasy-filled night of passion with this mesmerizing marine would never be enough?Dan Mahoney knew the pitfalls of getting too close to soft-hearted Angela Santini and her lonely son. But if the elusive bachelor was so set on a life of solitude, why couldn' t he just stay away? Was it because this Cassanova in uniform might actually be… in love?
She Just Wasn’t The One-Night-Stand Kind Of Woman.
Rounding the edge of the old brick building, she looked up and saw Dan Mahoney. Arms folded across his chest, feet crossed at the ankles, he stared at her from across the lot, and even at a distance, Angela felt the power, the hunger, in his gaze.
Parts of her body struggling back to life throbbed and hummed with an electrical pulse. As she started toward him, her heels tapped loudly against the asphalt and kept time with the pounding of her heart.
He leaned toward her. “So, Angela,” he said softly, his voice whispering along her spine. “Do we still have a date?”
One last chance to back out, she told herself. To forget about the craziness of what she’d been planning and go home alone. But she knew that he was exactly what she needed. What she wanted.
There would be no backing out.
Not tonight…
Dear Reader,
As we celebrate Silhouette’s 20
anniversary year as a romance publisher, we invite you to welcome in the fall season with our latest six powerful, passionate, provocative love stories from Silhouette Desire!
In September’s MAN OF THE MONTH, fabulous Peggy Moreland offers a Slow Waltz Across Texas. In order to win his wife back, a rugged Texas cowboy must learn to let love into his heart. Popular author Jennifer Greene delivers a special treat for you with Rock Solid, which is part of the highly sensual Desire promotion, BODY & SOUL.
Maureen Child’s exciting miniseries, BACHELOR BATTALION, continues with The Next Santini Bride, a responsible single mom who cuts loose with a handsome Marine. The next installment of the provocative Desire miniseries FORTUNE’S CHILDREN: THE GROOMS is Mail-Order Cinderella by Kathryn Jensen, in which a plain-Jane librarian seeks a husband through a matchmaking service and winds up with a Fortune! Ryanne Corey returns to Desire with a Lady with a Past, whose true love woos her with a chocolate picnic. And a nurse loses her virginity to a doctor in a night of passion, only to find out the next day that her lover is her new boss, in Doctor for Keeps by Kristi Gold.
Be sure to indulge yourself this autumn by reading all six of these tantalizing titles from Silhouette Desire!
Enjoy!
Joan Marlow Golan
Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire
The Next Santini Bride
Maureen Child
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To my cousins, Jimmy and Doris Semon, who showed us
just how beautiful Louisiana really is. Thank you for
everything, you guys. We love you.
MAUREEN CHILD
was born and raised in Southern California and is the only person she knows who longs for an occasional change of season. She is delighted to be writing for Silhouette Books and is especially excited to be a part of the Desire line.
An avid reader, Maureen looks forward to those rare rainy California days when she can curl up and sink into a good book. Or two. When she isn’t busy writing, she and her husband of twenty-five years like to travel, leaving their two grown children in charge of the neurotic golden retriever who is the real head of the household. Maureen is also an award-winning historical writer under the names Kathleen Kane and Ann Carberry.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
One
“No man has a right to be that good-looking,” Angela Santini Jackson said, nodding toward a man standing on the opposite side of the room.
Her sister Marie Garvey leaned in close and whispered, “He is a hunk, isn’t he?”
Hunk barely covered it. The man had to be six feet four inches of solid muscle. His cheekbones were sharp enough to draw blood, and his eyes were a pale, brilliant green that seemed to glitter in his deeply tanned face.
He looked, Angela thought, like the poster boy for a don’t-let-your-daughter-near-this-man campaign. She smiled to herself. He looked her way, and their gazes locked. Embarrassed to be caught staring, Angela quickly realized she had two choices here—glance away quickly and pretend to be oblivious…or meet his gaze squarely and refuse to back down.
She went with the latter. After all, it was a free world. A woman should have the right to look at anyone she wanted to. Right?
A long minute or two passed in silent observation. All around them people wandered about the private dining room of the Bayside Crab Shack. Her youngest sister’s rehearsal dinner was almost over, and now the wedding party and their guests had time to chat. She heard snatches of conversations without really registering them. She knew her sister Marie was talking to her, but her voice sounded more like an annoying background buzz than anything else.
All she saw, all she focused on, was him. His eyes. The way he stood in the middle of everything and yet separate and apart from the crowd. It was as if he was off in his own world and was drawing her in there with him.
She shifted slightly in her seat, fought down the rush of warmth that slammed through her, and still couldn’t look away.
It was as if they were in one of those old movies, where the hero and heroine exchange glances across a crowded room and the rest of the world blurred as the director homed in on his stars.
And that wild thought was enough to break the spell holding her. She smiled to herself, and as she did, one corner of his mouth quirked up in a tilted smile, and he lifted his beer bottle in a mock salute as if to call their silent staring competition a draw.
Angela swallowed hard, gave him what she hoped was a regal nod, and when he looked away, turned her attention back to the sister who had now resorted to nudging Angela’s ribs with her elbow. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Funny,” Marie said, giving a quick look across the room at the tall man now talking to Gina’s fiancé, Nick. “I was just going to ask you the same thing.”
“What are you talking about?” Angela picked up a place card and used it as a minifan in a futile attempt to cool her still-heated blood.
“What exactly were you and Mr. Wonderful over there doing?”
She dropped the card back onto the table and straightened up in her seat. “We weren’t doing anything,” Angela said, though even she didn’t completely believe that. For the few seconds their gazes had been locked, she’d felt something almost…electrical pass between them. Oh, my, she thought, and reached for her glass of wine. Taking a sip, she let the cool liquid slide down her throat and hoped the chill would ease the last of the heat still crouched inside her.
“Not what it looked like from where I’m sitting,” Marie muttered.
“Get a new seat,” Angela told her shortly. Then, in an attempt to change the conversation, she pointed to their youngest sister and said, “Look at her. She’s practically glowing.”
Gina Santini smiled up at the man who would by this time tomorrow be her husband, and Nick Paretti bent down to claim a kiss.
“She’s happy,” Marie said simply.
“I hope she stays that way,” Angela whispered more to herself than to her sister. Then louder she said, “Still, it’s hard to believe that Gina’s getting married. It all happened so fast.”
“Maybe it’s contagious,” Marie mused as she held up her left hand to study the white-gold wedding band on her ring finger. “First me, then Gina, then…” She slid a glance at the woman beside her.
“Oh no, you don’t,” Angela said and held up both hands, making a cross out of her index fingers as if trying to ward off a vampire. “The phrase ‘been there, done that’ springs to mind.”
Marie huffed out a breath. “For heaven’s sake, Ange, just because you picked a lemon in the garden of love the first time around, doesn’t mean you’ll do the same thing again.”
“Thanks so much for that very pithy piece of advice,” Angela said with a nod. “But if you don’t mind, I’m staying out of that particular garden from now on.”
It was an old argument, Angela told herself. One she had no interest in reviving tonight. If her sisters wanted to get married, she would wish them every happiness and hope to high heaven that their marriages turned out better than hers had.
Old memories rose up in her mind, and Angela quickly pushed them back into the black hole where they were usually stored. This wasn’t the time to remember the pain and misery that had been her marriage. This was a night to hope and pray that Gina would be as happy as Marie was.
“Oh,” Marie said suddenly as an old, familiar tune swelled out of the speakers tucked discreetly into the four corners of the room. “I love this song. Think I’ll go find my handsome husband and force him to dance with me.”
Abandoned, Angela leaned back in her chair and took another sip of her wine. It was times like these when she most minded being single. All around the room couples were paired off, talking or dancing or laughing together. Even her eight-year-old son, Jeremy, was busy talking to the only other child in the room, a little girl he might normally have avoided like the plague.
She smiled to herself as she watched him. The one precious thing to have come out of marrying Bill Jackson was this little boy. And for the pleasure of having Jeremy in her life, she would be willing to go through all of it again.
“Who’s that smile for, I wonder?” a deep voice asked from beside her.
Angela started and glanced up into the green eyes that now seemed somehow familiar. Okay, it was one thing to stare at him with the safe distance of a room between them. It was quite another to have him so close she could smell his cologne.
And, oh, boy, did he smell good.
She cleared her throat and sat up straight, guiltily clearing her mind as though he could look into her eyes and see just what she was thinking. “My son,” she said, motioning toward the boy who was apparently explaining the proper batting stance to a very bored little girl.
“Nice-looking kid.”
“Thank you,” she said, and stood up, wanting to be on a more even footing than having to look up at him. Well, she thought, as she tipped her head back…and back…to meet his gaze, so much for that idea.
“You’re Angela, right?” he asked, shifting his gaze back to her and giving her that lopsided smile again.
Her stomach dropped as she nodded. He knew her name. How? Who had he asked about her?
“I’m Dan. Dan Mahoney.”
“Hi,” she said, silently congratulating herself on her sparkling wit and conversational abilities.
“I work with Nick,” he continued.
“You’re a Marine.”
He smiled again, and her toes curled. “Isn’t everyone?” he asked.
“In this room,” she conceded, “just about.”
Of course, that was to be expected when the groom to be was a Gunnery Sergeant. Heck, even Nick’s brothers, Sam and John, who had flown in for the ceremony, were Marines. And Nick’s father was an ex-Marine, if there was such a thing—which she doubted, since most of these guys seemed to be Marine right down to their bones.
She slid a glance at the Paretti boys, as she’d begun to think of them. Three brothers with jet-black hair, pale-blue eyes and more muscles than any three men had a right to. And not a one of them did a thing for her.
“Angela?” Dan said, and she drew her attention back to the man standing dangerously close to her. This man, on the other hand, seemed to have some weird effect on her nerves.
“Would you like to dance?” he asked.
“Dance?”
“Yeah,” he said, that smile firmly in place. “You know, moving back and forth in tandem to a specific rhythm?”
Well, duh. God, why was she being such an idiot? Had it really been so long since she’d spoken to a man? Good heavens, had she kept herself so locked away that a conversation with a handsome man could actually paralyze her?
Apparently so. She swallowed hard, sucked in a breath and forced herself to say, “I’d love to.”
“Good,” he said, taking her hand and heading for the small patch of parquet tiles passing itself off as a dance floor.
Angela concentrated on the feel of her hand in his. Wow. It was really an amazing sensation. Flesh pressed to flesh. Warm, strong fingers folded around her own. She hadn’t even realized just how starved she’d been for a simple touch. And now that she had, other parts of her body were demanding a little attention, too.
That thought even surprised her.
In the midst of the other dancers, Dan pulled her into his arms and started swaying in time to the music. He held her right hand in his left and kept it tucked close to his chest. She felt his heartbeat beneath her hand, and the steady, even beat of it calmed her even as it excited her. It had been too long, she thought, as she began to relax and follow his lead. Too long since she’d danced with anyone but an exuberant Jeremy. Too long since she’d felt the hard strength of a man’s arm around her waist, the press of his body against hers.
“You’re a good dancer,” he said, and his breath brushed her ear even as his voice rumbled along her spine.
“Thanks,” she said, pulling her head back in self-defense. She was way too close to him for comfort. “You’re a good liar.”
He laughed shortly. “Okay, so neither one of us is Fred Astaire.”
Nope, this slow turn in a tight circle would hardly qualify as great dancing, but Angela didn’t care. It was way more than she’d had in years. “Doesn’t matter,” she said. “It’s nice.”
“Yeah,” he said softly, letting his right hand smooth up and down her back, “it is.”
Angela shivered, and her eyes closed as she savored the feelings he inspired in her. Oh boy. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea, living like a recluse for the past three years. She was way overreacting to this situation.
“You’re beautiful,” he said.
Her eyes opened, and she stared up into those green eyes. If this was his regular line, it was pretty good. But it wouldn’t do to let him know she was in desperate danger of falling for it. “And like I already said, you’re a good liar.”
“Not this time, lady,” he whispered.
Her stomach flip-flopped, and her mouth went dry.
There was something happening here. Something that ran in a tense, hot undercurrent. The calm, rational side of her, the side that had had her in hiding for the past three years, was telling her to run fast and run far. The other side however, urged her to get closer. Urged her to enjoy this moment in time.
“Can I steal my sister for a minute?”
They both turned toward the woman speaking, and briefly Angela considered telling her little sister to take a hike. But something in Gina’s eyes stopped her.
So instead, she reluctantly slipped out of Dan Mahoney’s grasp and said, “Thanks for the dance.”
“My pleasure, ma’am,” he said, then gave her a slow wink before drifting off toward a cluster of Marines.
Sighing for opportunities lost, Angela turned to her sister and asked, “Okay, little sister, what’s up?”
“Nothing yet, I hope,” Gina muttered, glancing over her shoulder at Dan.
“What are you talking about?” Honestly, she loved her sister, but…
“Stay away from that guy,” Gina blurted out.
“Excuse me?” She stared down at her sister in disbelief.
Muttering, “Come on,” the younger woman grabbed her arm and dragged her across the room toward the open double doors leading to a brick patio.
A cool ocean breeze wafted into the room, and in the press of people, the chill was welcome. Stepping outside, Angela sent a quick look up at a star-filled sky, took a deep breath, then looked at Gina. “This had better be good.”
“Nick says you should keep your distance from him.”
“Oh, Nick says.” Angela nodded and threw her hands wide. “Well, sure. Why didn’t you say so?”
“Angie, he says that Dan’s a nice guy, but he’s a one-night stand kind of man.” Gina shook her head. “Not really the type for you, y’know.”
Amazing. Her younger sister giving her advice on men, for heaven’s sake. Although, she had to admit that Gina probably knew what she was talking about. After all, she’d already decided that Dan Mahoney was a smooth talker. But whether she listened or not should be up to her.
“How about you guys letting me decide who my type is?”
Gina pushed her hair out of her eyes, winced as if she knew she’d stepped into something, then tried to salvage it. “Nobody’s telling you to do anything.”
“You did,” Angela reminded her. “You said to ‘stay away from that guy.”’
“Okay, I put it badly, but I just wanted you to be careful….”
Careful? She hadn’t been on a date, had in fact, hardly spoken to a man in the past three years. What could be more careful? For the first time in ages she was dancing with an attractive man, feeling those feelings she remembered so vaguely, and what happens? Her family comes so unglued you’d think she was a vestal virgin being slated for sacrifice.
Geez. If she wanted to do something daring…something out of character…something dangerous, wasn’t she old enough to make that choice for herself?
“Gina—”
“Angela,” her sister interrupted, “we’ve all been trying to get you back into the dating pool for years. I just don’t want you to drown on your first time out.”
She looked so concerned, Angela let her anger dissolve into nothingness. Reaching out, she pulled Gina into a tight hug then held her at arm’s length and said, “Okay, I swear, if I start going down for the count, I’ll give a yell, okay?”
Although right now the thought of drowning in Dan Mahoney’s pale-green eyes didn’t sound like such a bad idea at all.
Two
“We ought to get together,” Sam Paretti said. “Brother of the groom, sister of the bride…how perfect is that?”
Angela looked up at him and grinned. She couldn’t help it. After meeting Nick’s two brothers, Sam and John, she was willing to admit that the Paretti men were not only gorgeous, but charming, too. God had been on a real roll when he’d created these three.
“It’s perfect, all right,” she said, “heck, it’s practically a romance novel.”
“There you go,” Sam said, and glanced toward the bride and groom. “They look happy, don’t they?”
“Yes, they do,” she said, watching her little sister dance with her new husband. Her wedding dress swirled around her in a froth of lace and tulle, and the smile on her face was bright enough to light the room. The man guiding her proudly around the dance floor looked handsome in his Dress-Blue uniform, and together they made an almost fairy-tale picture.
A pang of something sharp and bittersweet twinged around her heart. So much hope, so much love. Angela said a quick, fervent prayer that Gina and Nick would always be as happy as they were tonight.
Old tunes poured from the stereo system set up on the auditorium’s stage. The church hall was decorated in rose and white balloons, and baskets of fresh flowers dotted every table. The caterers had served dinner, and now it was time for everyone to enjoy the party celebrating Gina and Nick’s marriage.
Everything was changing so quickly. Just a few short months ago all of the Santini women had been sharing the family house. Now, it would be just Mama, Angela and Jeremy.
Her sisters were now officially halves of couples.
Marie and Davis.
Gina and Nick.
Angela and…she took a sip of champagne and turned away from the happy couple. No point in torturing herself, was there? Besides, it wasn’t as if she wanted a husband. Not again. She just didn’t want to end up a lonely old woman talking to cats and bothering her only son about bringing the grandchildren by more often.
Oh yeah, she thought grimly. Have some more champagne, it’s really helping your attitude.
“So,” Sam said, drawing her attention back to him, “what do you say to a dance with a lonely Marine?”
Lonely? She had a feeling Sam Paretti had never had a lonely day in his life.
“Sure,” she said, “I—”
“Sorry, Marine,” a deep voice said from behind Angela, “she’s promised this one to me.”
Angela’s breath caught in her throat, and her stomach flip-flopped wildly.
“Is that right?” Sam asked, looking down at Angela.
“Uh,” she cleared her throat, swallowed hard and said, “do you mind?”
The two men stared at each other for a long moment before Sam finally nodded. “I’ll see you later, Angela.”
“Thanks,” she said as he turned and moved off into the crowd, leaving her alone with the man she’d been catching glimpses of all day.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he said in a throaty whisper that tingled along her spine.
A quick spurt of excitement sizzled through her bloodstream as she turned around to face Dan. They’d both been so busy doing wedding party things, they hadn’t spoken since last night’s interrupted dance. Well, they’d done more than just spoken, in Angela’s dreams, but since he didn’t know about that, it probably didn’t count.
“Was I that hard to find?” she asked.
“Not for me,” he said, leaning one hand on the wall above her head and bending closer. “I used to be Recon. Reconnaissance. The guys who go in, get what needs getting and get out.”
He leaned in even closer, and Angela swore she could feel the warm brush of his breath against her cheek. Or maybe that was just her own heated blood flushing her face.
“You should know, I’ve been warned about you,” Angela said as she looked up into the green eyes that had haunted her dreams all last night.
“Me?” Dan answered with that slow, crooked smile that was guaranteed to breach any defenses. “I’m harmless, lady.”
Oh yeah, she believed that. And chocolate had no calories when eaten at midnight. Ha! She took another sip of champagne and silently reminded herself that she was on a mission here. She didn’t want harmless. She wanted dangerous.
If just for tonight.
Actually, Gina’s warning the night before had been the deciding factor in this. Knowing that Dan was interested in nothing more than a one-night stand made it all so easy. She could have one night of magic after far too long a dry spell, and there wouldn’t be a single string attached. Well, except for the guilt strings she was already experiencing. Honestly, you wouldn’t think it would be so hard for a twenty-eight-year-old widow to seduce a man. Another swallow of champagne followed the last, and a part of her brain reminded her that she wanted to be loose, not unconscious. But heck, who could blame her for trying a little liquid courage? It wasn’t as if she did this every day.
“Harmless, huh?” she asked, giving him a smile she hoped was sexy. It had been so long, she couldn’t be sure. “That’s not what I hear.”
“Who’s been talking?”
Oh, brother, that smile of his should be classified as a lethal weapon. It did amazing things to a woman’s equilibrium.
“Who hasn’t?” she quipped.
“And do you always believe what you hear?” he asked, letting his gaze slide across her body with a slow, deliberately casual thoroughness.
Boy, he was better than she’d given him credit for. Her skin felt tight, and parts of her body she’d thought atrophied were galloping back to life. This was moving so fast she could hardly keep up. Taking a moment to calm down a bit, she looked around the room…actually, she looked anywhere but into those green eyes.
Angela studied the faces surrounding her, both familiar and strange. Dozens of Marines were sprinkled through the crowd, and she had to admit there was something about a man in a Dress-Blue uniform. It was an unfair advantage, really. No red-blooded woman, especially one who’d been living a celibate life for more than three years, could resist.
And the simple truth was, Angela didn’t want to resist. She’d made up her mind what she was going to do the minute her sister Gina had told her that Dan was known on base as the king of the one-night stands. And she wasn’t going to back out now.
“Want to try to finish our dance?” Dan asked, breaking into the thoughts swirling ceaselessly through her mind.
She inhaled and swiveled her head to look at him.
“For starters,” she said bravely, and watched as desire flickered in the depths of his eyes. She half turned to set her champagne glass on the closest table, then he took her hand and led her through the crowd. Angela’s gaze fixed on his broad back, narrow hips and long legs. A curl of anticipation unwound inside her, and her mouth went dry.
Ever since the night before, Angela hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. Sure, he was tall, dark and gorgeous. So were most of the other guys in the room. But there was something about First Sergeant Mahoney that made her blood boil and her usually cautious nature want to fly out the window.
And just for tonight, she was going to let it.
As they came to the middle of the dance floor, the music changed, shifting from a fast-paced, rock and roll number to an old Frank Sinatra standard. The voice of Ol’ Blue Eyes swept into the room and was welcomed like an old friend. If she hadn’t known better, she would have sworn Dan had planned it this way.
Dan pulled her into his arms and pressed her body to his. Her mouth went dry, and her head swam. She wasn’t sure if it was the four or five glasses of champagne or the heady sensation of being held by a man again that was making her feel almost dizzy. And she didn’t care. It was enough to be feeling again. To be experiencing that swift, sure punch of desire. The lick of flames at her center. The pooling warmth that threatened to collapse her knees and rob her of breath.
His right hand dropped to the curve of her behind as he eased her around the crowded dance floor. Subtly he pulled her tight against him. Hard and strong, his body pressed into hers, letting her know what she was doing to him. A rush of confidence filled her. She could still attract a man. Apparently the past three years of being a mom and a widow hadn’t robbed her of her abilities to be a woman.
On his shoulder her left hand clutched at the fabric of his uniform. She leaned her head back to look up at him and struggled to continue breathing as he kept her pressed tightly to him.
“I sure hope I’m reading you right,” Dan said, staring down at the woman he wanted more than his next breath.
She swallowed hard, then smoothed her left hand across his shoulders and down his back. “Trust me on this. If you weren’t reading me right, you’d have known by now.”
“Fair enough,” he said, nodding, “but just to be safe, I’ll say it plain. A simple no will end this. Now.”
She stared at him, and he saw his own reflection in the soft-brown of her eyes. “And what does a yes get me?”
Dan’s body tightened even further which he would have thought impossible a minute or two ago. Damn. He hadn’t been expecting this. Stand up at his friend’s wedding and end up sleeping with the friend’s new sister-in-law?
“Lady,” he said on a soft exhale of breath, “a yes will get you any darn thing you want.”
She gave him a slow smile that set a match to the dynamite stacked inside him.
“That covers a lot of territory, First Sergeant.”
“Yes ma’am,” he promised, his brain filling with images of the night to come, “it surely does.”
“Good,” she said, and moved even closer to him, taking what little of his breath was left. “Then it’s a date? After the bride and groom leave?”
“If I can wait that long,” he said.
“It’ll be worth the wait,” she assured him, and stepped out of his arms as the song ended.
“Damn straight,” he said tightly. He watched her as she moved back through the crowd, headed toward her sister. Her shoulder-length, dark-brown hair curved under at the ends and swung gently with each step she took. She wore a dark-pink bridesmaid’s dress with a high collar, long sleeves and a full skirt that fell to her feet and brushed the floor in a soft, swishing sound as she moved. And that dress looked so damn good on her, he wondered if there was any way to convince Nick and Gina to take off on their honeymoon now.
“You’re sure, honey?” Maryann Santini asked for the fiftieth time in the last ten minutes. “It just doesn’t seem fair, all of us leaving you at the same time. I mean, Nick and Gina of course deserve their honeymoon, but it doesn’t seem right for me to take off on a cruise right now.”
“You and Margaret have been planning this for weeks,” Angela reminded her mother patiently.
“I know, but now Jeremy’s going to be gone, and even Marie and Davis are leaving town for a week.”
Angela smiled at the thought of her eight-year-old son, but as much as she loved him, she was glad he’d asked to spend the weekend with his best friend. Especially now. With the plans she had for later tonight, home was no place for her son tonight.
“I’ll be fine, Mama,” she said, giving her mother a quick hug. “I’m a big girl, remember? I don’t need a baby-sitter for heaven’s sake. I’m actually looking forward to spending some time alone.” Not completely alone, of course, but her mother didn’t have to know that.
“All right, then,” the older woman said, obviously still not convinced. “I’ll only be gone ten days, and…”
The rest of her mother’s words drifted into a stream of sound as Angela watched the last of the wedding guests filter out of the hall. The past two hours had crawled by. All she’d been able to think about was being alone with Dan Mahoney. It had been so long. So long since she’d been held, kissed, touched. Her body burned with an intensity she’d never known before. Every square inch of her skin seemed alive with sensation, as if she could almost feel his hands on her already.
“Are you listening to me?” her mother asked, laying one hand on Angela’s forearm.
She jumped slightly, then tried to laugh it off. “I’m sorry, I must be tired.”
“Actually your eyes look a little feverish,” Mama said, frowning. “Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”
Oh, she was feverish all right, but it was nothing aspirin could cure.
“I’m fine, Mama,” she said, looking past her mother to the car pulling up opposite the doorway. “Look, there’s Margaret now. You’d better hurry or you’ll miss your plane.”
“All right then,” Mama said, giving into the excitement of her first cruise. “You take care and make sure you lock the house and—”
“For heaven’s sake, Mama,” she said, impatience stampeding through her, “go.”
“Okay, I’m going.” Shaking her head, she hurried to her friend’s car, opened the door and got in. Then with a wave of her hand and a honk of the horn, she was off.
Angela pulled in a deep breath and blew it out again. Alone. Finally alone. Jeremy had gone home with his friend Mike, the caterers would clean up the mess in the hall, Mama was taken care of. And that meant that for the first time in too long, Angela Santini Jackson, mother, daughter, sister, widow, could be, for tonight, anyway, simply Angela.
She headed for the parking lot on suddenly shaky legs. Her stomach spun, her mind raced as she asked herself if she was doing the right thing. This was so not her.
She just wasn’t the one-night stand kind of woman.
Rounding the edge of the old brick building, she dug in her purse for her keys, and when she looked up, she saw Dan Mahoney, spotlit in the soft yellow glow of a parking lot lamp, leaning negligently against the hood of his car. Arms folded over his chest, feet crossed at the ankles, he stared at her from across the lot, and even at a distance Angela felt the power, the hunger in his gaze.
Her heartbeat quickened, and the parts of her body struggling back to life throbbed and hummed with an electrical pulse. She paused only briefly, then started toward him. Her heels tapped loudly against the asphalt and kept time with the pounding of her heart.
Her car was parked just a few spaces away from his. She stopped at the driver’s side door, unlocked it and then looked at him.
He straightened up, moved over to her car and leaned both forearms on the roof. “So, Angela,” he said softly, his voice whispering along her spine, “do we still have a date?”
She closed her eyes briefly, then looked at him again. If she said no, he’d leave, no harm done. There it is, she told herself. One last chance. One final opportunity to back out. To forget about the craziness of what she’d been planning and go back to her house alone.
She could pack away the box of condoms she’d purchased the night before and slide into her empty bed. She could dream her dreams and do without the soft slide of this man’s hands on her skin.
Instead of feeling a man’s arms around her, she could sit in the darkness and regret not having had the courage to take what she wanted. To, for once, put her own needs ahead of everyone else’s.
The chilly, damp air swirled around her, and in the soft tendrils of fog blowing in off the ocean, he looked almost otherworldly. As if he was only the dream image of a man. But she knew he was all too real, and that’s exactly what she needed. What she wanted.
There would be no backing out.
Not tonight.
Swallowing hard, she said only, “I haven’t changed my mind.”
He nodded. “Me, neither.”
Oh, my. The flash of desire glinted in his eyes and set off sparks deep within her. Her heart galloped, and she sucked in a gulp of air before opening the car door with a shaky hand. Then she looked directly into those amazing eyes of his and said, “You can follow me to my house.”
He gave her a slow smile and nodded. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Three
Damn. He felt as keyed up as some randy teenager in the back seat of his father’s Buick. Dan kept his gaze locked on Angela’s taillights as she drove along the narrow streets toward her home. She made a left, turning onto a residential block that even in the darkness looked quiet and cozy. A Leave It to Beaver kind of neighborhood that ordinarily would have set off his internal radar and had him running in the opposite direction.
But not tonight.
Tonight there was nowhere else he’d rather be. Angela Jackson had dogged his mind and haunted his every thought since the moment he’d met her, and now he had to have her. If she’d sent him away, he would have had to crawl. His body was so eager for the joining that a no from her might have killed him.
Expectation whispered inside him and his body, already hard and ready, tensed further as she signaled a left turn into a driveway.
He glanced at the California bungalow-style house as he passed it. Then, making a U-turn in the middle of the block, he came back around and parked at the curb. Shutting off the engine, he took a moment to listen to the profound stillness. Slowly he swiveled his head to watch her climb out of her car.
Silhouetted against the backdrop of the porch light, he couldn’t see her face, but he read her tension in every line of her body. Her tall, slim figure swayed a bit, and her floor-length skirt rippled around her.
Grabbing his keys, he got out of the car, locked it and shut the door with a solid thump that seemed to echo off the silent houses staring at him with dark windowpane eyes. Walking around the back of his car, he headed toward her. She didn’t move, simply stood there, waiting for him.
His heart thundered in his chest, and when he came close enough to read her expression, even that beat accelerated. Desire, need, hunger, all shone in her eyes, feeding the emotions nearly strangling him.
He reached out and laid one hand on her forearm. She shivered. Whether from eagerness or hesitation, he couldn’t be sure. To satisfy the gentleman still crouched at the feet of the beast within, he forced himself to say softly, “Angela, if you don’t want this, just say so.”
She laughed shortly and tipped her head back to look up at him. “Want it?” she repeated, her voice thick and husky. “Dan, I want it so much it scares me.”
That’s all he needed to know. Turning her around, he led her toward the house and the brightly lit porch. They took the steps together, already moving as one, setting an unconscious rhythm. She fumbled with the keys, dropped them and Dan bent down to scoop them up.
“That one,” she said.
He nodded, jammed it home and turned it. The lock snicked open, he turned the knob and ushered her inside. He stepped in right behind her, closed and locked the door, then turned to look at her.
Their gazes locked.
A heartbeat passed, then another.
Angela dropped her purse.
He let the keys clatter to the hardwood floor.
Then she was in his arms. He didn’t know how she got there. He didn’t remember moving toward her. He didn’t know or care how they’d come together. He only knew that he couldn’t seem to hold her close enough.
Taking her mouth, he plundered her, parting her lips with his tongue, sweeping past any defenses she might have raised if she’d had time to think. He claimed her mouth fiercely, thoroughly. Again and again, his tongue mated with hers, twisting, twining, exploring and tasting. He sought her treasures, her secrets, and once he found them, searched for more. His hands moved up and down her back, over the curve of her behind where his fingers grabbed hold and squeezed, pulling her tightly to him.
Pressing her body to the straining, hard arousal that had tortured him all night brought a wave of pleasure so deep and rich it staggered him. He wanted more. He wanted it all.
Shifting his hands to the front of her dress, he slid them up, up past the swell of her breasts, to the wide collar that dipped so enticingly across her shoulders. He skimmed his fingertips across her skin and smiled to himself when she trembled in his grasp.
He tore his mouth from hers, and while she struggled to draw air into heaving lungs, he bent his head to kiss the curve of her neck. To taste the warmth of her skin, to tantalize her as she did him.
“Oh, my,” she said on a short sigh, and tipped her head to one side, “that feels so—”
“Good,” he finished for her.
“Beyond good,” she assured him and leaned into him, pressing her breasts against his chest.
“I want to feel you,” he said, letting his hands slide to the zipper at the back of her dress.
“Oh, yeah,” she muttered, “that’d be good.”
He smiled and tugged at the zipper, letting his fingertips trail along the line of exposed flesh as he went.
She shivered, and he groaned. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and that fact fed the fires. Nothing stood between him and the feel of her breasts in his palms. The zipper went down, down, to just above the curve of her butt. Smooth skin called out for his touch and he obliged. Running his palms up and down her back, he worked the dress off and let it drop to a pool at her feet.
Angela stepped out of the fabric and kicked it aside.
The chill air in the room crawled over her body, and she hardly felt it. Her blood was boiling, and that was enough to keep her warm. She watched him watch her, and for the first time in years, worried about the lacy pattern of stretch marks across her not-entirely flat belly.
She wasn’t exactly a cover model, after all. But when he lifted his hands and cupped her breasts, she stopped thinking. Who could care about stretch marks when his thumbs were stroking her already-pebbled nipples?
Angela rocked on her heels and closed her eyes. Sensation after sensation poured through her. From the top of her head to the tips of her toes, she was awash in the glory of feeling. It had been so long, so terribly long since her body had known the touch of a man.
She opened her eyes again and looked up into his heated gaze. Apparently, the same hunger tearing through her had a grip on him, too. Boldly, she reached up and fumbled with the brass buttons on his uniform tunic. Licking her lips, breathing hard, she worked at them until the Dress-Blue jacket was unbuttoned, unbelted, hanging open. She laid the flat of her hands against his white T-shirt-covered chest and felt the slam of his heartbeat against her palm.
Then he growled…actually growled…and yanked her to him. In seconds the rest of their clothes were gone, tossed aside, and she was held flush against his warm, naked, outrageously muscled body.
His hands swept up and down her back, then up and around to caress her breasts again. Every square inch of her body was electrified. Every nerve pushed to its breaking point. Desperate need coiled within her, building, growing, blossoming until she thought she might be consumed by it—and still she wanted more.
Dropping to the floor, he cushioned her head with his forearm and let his right hand slide down her length to the apex of her thighs. She held her breath, arched her back and lifted her hips in anticipation. His fingers dipped into her warmth, and her body exploded.
“Dan!” she cried, and clutched at him as a wild rush of tremors coursed through her. One after the other, tumbling into each other, never giving her a chance to catch her breath, the tiny explosions went on and on.
He held her tightly as the unexpectedly fierce climax claimed her. She rocked her hips against his hand, buried her face in the crook of his neck and rode the wave of sensation that carried her into a place she hardly remembered.
And when it was finally over and the last tremor shivered through her, she looked up at him. Good heavens, they’d hardly begun and she’d already finished. How mortifying was that? In a ragged voice she said, “It’s been a long time. I’m sorry that happened so quickly.”
He shook his head and smiled before leaning down to brush a kiss across her mouth. “Don’t be sorry. I’m not.”
Then he reached behind him for his trousers and fumbled one-handed for the pocket. Pulling out a foil-wrapped condom, he looked down at her. “I could use a little help with this, since I’ve only got the one free hand.”
Keeping her gaze locked with his, she reached for it, tore it open, then slowly sheathed him. His eyes closed at her touch, and he moved closer. Angela wrapped her fingers around him, caressing him with smooth determined strokes. He arched into her and in seconds, her breath was coming fast, need coiled again inside her and she shifted into him, urging him to cover her. To fill her.
“Enough!” he muttered thickly, suddenly and moved to position himself between her thighs. Angela stared up at him as his fingers toyed with her tender flesh, smoothing, touching, exploring. She twisted and writhed in his grasp, giving herself up to the amazing things happening to her. In the glow of the foyer light, she watched his eyes darken and narrow with want and need, and she planted her feet firmly on the smooth wood floor and lifted her hips to welcome his first hard thrust.
She gasped at the intrusion, and a moment later felt her body adjust to his presence. Again and again he moved within her, setting a wild, fierce rhythm that she rushed to meet. She lifted her legs to lock them around his hips, pulling him tighter against her and deeper within her. Each time he withdrew, she wanted to moan the loss of him, and each time he rejoined their bodies, she wanted to shout at the glorious rightness of it.
He leaned over her, bracing his weight on his palms. Locking his gaze with hers, he set a soul-shattering pace that ended in a climax so powerful, so incredible, all Angela could do was hold on and hope she survived long enough to enjoy the afterglow.
And when she heard him groan tightly, she wrapped her arms around him and cushioned his fall.
Minutes…or maybe hours…flew by before either of them had the strength to move. Dan finally shifted to one side of her, pulling her with him, drawing her head onto his shoulder.
“That was,” she said, and heard the hollowness in her own voice, “amazing.”
He chuckled, and the sound rumbled through his chest. “Amazing is a pretty good word for it,” he admitted, letting his hand slide up and down her arm.
“Well,” she said, still enjoying the ripples of satisfaction trembling through her body. “I guess we could get up off the floor, huh?”
“What’s the hurry?”
She tipped her head back on his shoulder and looked into hungry green eyes. “Hurry?” she whispered, then cleared her throat and tried again. “No hurry, but…well, we are finished and—”
“Finished?” he asked with a shake of his head, “We’re just getting started.”
“We are?” Oh, Lord, her heart was sure to pound right out of her chest any minute.
“Oh, yeah,” Dan said, and shifted slightly to raise up on one arm. Trailing his fingertips along her body, from breast to hip, he smiled at the row of goose bumps that danced in his wake. “This time we take it slow.”
“This time?” she repeated. Heck, she hadn’t recovered from the first time yet. Or the second mind-numbing climax. She had just spontaneously combusted all over her mother’s shining wood floor.
Oh, she would never dust in here in peace again.
“This time,” he said again, and rolled her onto her stomach before she could argue with him.
The cool wood planks beneath her lent another erotic touch to the moment. Spread-eagled on the foyer floor was not an image she’d ever had of herself. Yet here she lay, naked and eager for round two.
Then she felt his mouth at the base of her spine. His lips and tongue moved on her flesh and Angela shivered, clenching and unclenching her fists on nothingness, futilely looking for something to hold on to.
He spoke, and his breath brushed against her skin. “I’m going to start at your spine, Angel,” he said. “Because your spine is connected directly to your brain. And this time I’m going to make love to your mind as well as your body.”
Oh, my, she thought and let her eyes close.
He kissed her, running his lips and tongue along the column of her spine, tasting her, learning every curve, every line. He’d wanted her so badly right from the start and now that he’d had her, enjoyed her, felt her body cradling his, it wasn’t enough. He wanted even more of her, and this was a first for him.
Usually, when that initial rush of desire had been sated, he was content, and ready to move on. He didn’t want commitment. Relationships. Now, though, with this woman, all Dan could think of was more. More of her. More of them.
His hands drifted over her flesh, and when she stirred beneath him, he knew her body, too, was flickering back into life. Back into need. At the nape of her neck, he nibbled at her skin until rows of goose bumps dotted her back and shoulders. She writhed beneath him, but he didn’t ease her discomfort, instead, he stoked it. With touch after touch, kiss after kiss, he fed the fires engulfing them both and hoped they’d be consumed by them.
And when touching her wasn’t enough any more, he turned her over, scooped her into his arms and muttered, “Bedroom?”
“Upstairs,” she whispered, locking her arms around his neck and laying her head on his chest. “Hurry.”
“You bet,” he said, and took the stairs two at a time.
“Second door.”
“Right.” He went up to it, stepped into a cool, mint-green room with a lacy cover on the bed and more lace covering the windows, where moonlight tried to peek through the patterns of frothy fabric.
Walking directly to the bed, he reached down with one hand and swept the coverlet down to the foot of the mattress. Then he laid Angela down atop the pale-green sheets and stretched out beside her. Dipping his head to her breasts, he took first one nipple and then the next into his mouth.
Her hands fisted in his hair as she held him tightly to her. His tongue stroked the pebbly surface of her nipples, and he tasted them both until he’d had his fill. Until she was moving and moaning beneath him. And then he began again.
“Dan…” she whispered, arching into him, turning toward him. “I need you. Now.”
“Slow this time, Angel. Slow for both of us.” Though it killed him to maintain control, he wanted to make this last. To make this joining even more complete than the first.
She chuckled harshly and shook her head. “I don’t think I can stand slow.”
He smiled against her breast and let one hand slide down along her body to the warm heart of her.
She gasped as he cupped her and lifted her hips into his touch.
“Oh, now I know I can’t wait much longer.”
“It gets better,” he assured her.
“Impossible,” she murmured, twisting her hips into his touch.
“Trust me,” he said and shifted, moving down along her body, trailing damp kisses and silent promises as he went.
He glanced up at her and saw her hands pulling at the fine linen sheets, and holding them tightly. And he smiled to himself, enjoying the fact that he could bring her to this point again so soon after that mind-numbing pleasure they’d shared only moments ago.
“Dan…Dan,” his name came on a gasp of sound as her breath quickened. She licked dry lips and tossed her head from side to side on the pillow as she tried to find the release only he could give her.
He moved to take a place between her thighs and, kneeling, lifted her behind off the bed in a gentle, firm grip. His fingers kneaded the tender flesh as he lifted her higher and bent his head to taste her.
Angela gasped aloud and looked at him as his mouth took her places she hadn’t dreamed existed. No man ever had done this to her before. And she wouldn’t have believed that she would not only allow it, but luxuriate in the sensations she was feeling.
He’d been right. He’d claimed not only her body but her mind this time. Her brain spinning, her heartbeat thundering in her ears, she struggled to hold on to what was left of her sanity as another part of her raced toward the release she knew was awaiting her.
His mouth and tongue tortured her with sweet deliberation. His breath dusted across tender flesh as he pushed her higher, higher until she felt as though the air was too thin to breathe. And just when she thought she couldn’t bear the suspense any longer, his intimate kiss sent her spiraling over the edge of sanity into a soft oblivion.
And a moment later Dan’s body entered hers, and in a few quick, hard thrusts, he found a sense of completion he’d never known before.
As he collapsed atop her, he realized that here, in the quiet rooms of a well-tended home, he’d made her his and fallen into a tender trap he’d never seen coming.
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Maureen Child
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: When Angela Santini felt the power of First Sergeant Dan Mahoney′ s smoldering gaze, she dared to throw caution to the wind. It had been so long since she′ d be held, kissed, touched… But how was this straitlaced single mom supposed to know that one fantasy-filled night of passion with this mesmerizing marine would never be enough?Dan Mahoney knew the pitfalls of getting too close to soft-hearted Angela Santini and her lonely son. But if the elusive bachelor was so set on a life of solitude, why couldn′ t he just stay away? Was it because this Cassanova in uniform might actually be… in love?