Pillow Talk (20 page)

"I confess," Parker said. "I was eavesdropping. Want some help?”

"
I
don't—" She glanced at Gus. "Sure. Tuck the boys in for me, will you?"

Just like that, he found himself walking them across the hall. He watched as they climbed into the twin beds in Gus's room, then he moved over beside Gus's bed, unsure of what to do next. He had no idea how to tuck a child in.

He saw Meg had joined him on the opposite side of Teddy's bed. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Sleep tight and don't—"

"—let the bed bugs bite," Teddy finished for her. "I love you, Mom," he said, then seemed to fall asleep immediately. Meg remained beside him, stroking his hair.

Gus looked up at him, all seriousness. "Do you believe in all that make-a-wish stuff?”

Parker glanced over at Meg. In the dim glow of the bedside lamp, she shimmered between shadow and light.

"Well, do you?"

Parker smiled at Gus and nodded. "Dreams do come true. Wishes do get answered. And sometimes even the frog turns into a prince."

He looked down at Gus, who was watching him as if he wanted to believe in what Parker said. Stooping, Parker brushed his lips across his nephew's forehead. "Goodnight,” he said.

Gus smiled. "Thanks, Uncle Parker."

Meg walked over and blew a goodnight kiss to Gus. Then she moved quietly from the room Parker followed, admiring her quiet dignity.

"No wonder you've known how to deal with Gus."

She gazed back, still not saying anything.

Parker wanted to take her in his arms and beg her forgiveness. He couldn't quite figure out why, because only two nights ago he'd thought she was the one who owed him a huge apology.

But tonight was different. "Come downstairs with me?"

She started to shake her head. He sensed she was going to flee from him.

So he said the word a Ponthier rarely u
t
tered. "Please?"

Eighteen

I
f
Parker only knew what that word coming from his
lips meant to her. Almost shyly, she smiled at him, then reminded herself she had too much pride to swoon into his arms at the slightest softening of his stance towards her. But for a man who'd just had three young children foisted on him, he was asking awfully nicely.

Reason and common sense told her to say goodnight and tuck herself in.

Desire and the beckoning of temptation urged her to match his steps as he moved down the hallway and towards the staircase.

Desire and temptation won.

Halfway downstairs, he said, "Did you meet Grandfather's new chess partner?”

"You mean Mrs. Fenniston." Meg was surprised he hadn't yet asked her about the children. "She's my friend from Las Vegas who was staying with my children."

He looked at her with curiosity. They were
crossing the foyer and heading back to the library. "Did my brother know?"

"About my children?"

He nodded.

So di
d
Meg. The less said the better.

"Jules must have been a changed man." Hr said it softly, with a corresponding softening o
f
the normally solemn lines around his mouth.

He paused at the doorway to the library Meg preceded him. "They do make a rumpus, don't they?" The usually pristine room was a shambles. But with the severe order disturbed, it looked much more comfortable and welcoming.

Meg followed Parker as he crossed to one o
f
the two loveseats in front of the fire. The cushions from the one they'd shared the other evening lay on the floor inside the children's tent. She observed how naturally they moved together. They might be any couple relaxing after settling the children to sleep for the night.

A wave of emotion overcame her. Ted had worked so many late hours she'd been the one to put the kids to bed, the one who'd created their pillow talk tradition. Tonight with Parker had given her a glimpse of an impossible dream.

Meg forced herself to look across the room to the computer atop the large desk. Parker was just as much a workaholic as Ted. He couldn't have come back to the house much before nine, if that early. He'd been kind to join
i
n tonight, but she knew better than to build
a
ny castles in the clouds.

She settled on the far end of the loveseat and
tucked
her feet under her. Mrs. Fenniston, bless
her
heart, had brought some of Meg's clothes, Including her favorite purple tights and over-
s
ized
Goofy t-shirt. The look was quite at odds
with
the loveseat's silk tapestry pulled tight
against
the ornate carving, but Meg felt safe in
her
comfortable at-home wear.

Parker sat on one of the two cushions of the loveseat. Giving his cuffs another turn and not quite looking at her, he said, “I've learned a lot from you tonight."

"You have?" His comment surprised Meg. She kept waiting for him to quiz her more on
the
kids and her plans. Fie didn't strike her as
one
to leave other people's business alone, not
when
it overlapped with his. He was, after all, a Ponthier.

He turned toward her, one arm sliding against the back of the loveseat. Meg caught her breath, the intimacy of the other night crowding into her mind. She yearned to lean over and accept his embrace, but pride held her back. Rejection hurt. Badly.

Parker lay his hand behind her shoulder without touching her. He'd sensed her stiffen slightly and knew she wasn't ready for his touch. He'd been such a jerk the other night he couldn't blame her. The same way he couldn't blame Jules for falling for a woman this sweet
and innocent. So different from any other woman he'd ever known.

"I've learned why you've been so good with Gus. I should have guessed you had children. No one else would have known how to handle him."

"That's not necessarily logical," Meg said, twirling a finger around a long lock of her hair He wondered if she had any idea what tha
t
gesture did to him.

"No?"
He murmured the question, not
wanting to argue logic. He'd far rather slide his arm down th
e loveseat and around her shoul
ders. But he bided his time. "Evidently his mother doesn't know how to handle him."

"True," Parker said. "Well, I guess I should know good parenting isn't genetic and doesn't arrive along with the child." He managed to keep any residual harshness from his voice, he'd long ago given up on Teensy.

What concerned him now was the shadow that crossed Meg's face. Parker knew he'd stirred some
very deep wounds. Leaning for
ward, he caught her free hand in his. "Did I say the wrong thing?"

"It's okay," she said, but to his relief, she didn't withdraw her hand. "Being an orphan, I guess I can't help but react to that statement. I've dealt with the issue but still sometimes I wonder why my parents gave me up. But there are many, many men and women who should
never
be parents. So, no, it's not something that
comes
along with the baby."

He stroked her hand. "I'm sorry for that
pain,
but you are a wonderful mother."

"Thank you," she said, tugging gently at her
hand.

"Do you want me to let go?"

She
raised her eyes to his. In her frank way,
he
watched him as she obviously considered
the
question. Then, a gentle smile curving her
mouth,
she said, "No, not really."

He
turned her hand over and traced the long
line
curving from her wrist towards her index
finger.
"You also taught me about make-
believe
tonight."

"I did?"

Parker lifted her hand and brushed his lips across the tips of her fingers. She quivered in response. He dropped his other arm around
her
shoulders
and eased her closer. She was s
kittish and unpredictable and the last thing he
wanted
to do was scare her off tonight.

"Am I imagining that you're about to kiss
me?"
She whispered the words and turned her
face
upwards as she spoke.

"That part"—Parker said as he lowered his
face
to hers—"would not be make-believe."

Her kiss
was sweeter than any he could i
magine. Sweet but with that innocent hesita
tion
he found so appealing. But as he traced
the
line of her lips with his tongue and pulled
her more tight
ly to him, her hesitation disap
peared.

Her lips
parted and he forced himself to
claim her mouth oh-so-slowly. Their tongue;. danced and he heard her sigh. Parker cupped the back of her head with one hand and
rode
the kiss until th
e strength of his passionate re
action to her forced him to stop. If he didn'
t
pull away he'd take her right there on the love seat with the door wide open.

When he released her mouth, she gazed up at him, eyes dark and wondering. "Oh, my," she said. "Are you sure that wasn't make believe?"

He shook his head. Taking her hand again, he said i
n a low voice, "Do you mind if I
close that door one more time?"

She licke
d her lips. Obviously she under
stood what he was really asking. Would she take this chance to excuse herself? Remind him that he was the one who'd pushed her aside when they'd been this close once before? Hell, he ought to be the one reminding himself of all the reasons he should flee the room, but right now, watching her eyes glowing with passion and her lips rosy and moist from his kiss, reason was the last thing on his mind.

And reason sure wasn't ruling his body. He shifted, knowing full well his arousal had to be more than evident, as he awaited her response
.

Instead of answering with a yes or no, she got up from the loveseat, moving almost in
s
low motion. Without a word, she crossed to
the
door.

Parker could have kicked himself.

Then she shut it and turned the key.

Meg faced Parker, her back to the door, hands by her side
. She didn't think of herself as
impulsive. But when she wanted something,
s
he wasn't one to hide from the desire. Not too
many
people she knew would have taken Jules
up on
his offer.

Of course, she couldn't imagine any woman turning Parker down.

He walked toward her now, his eyes fixed
on
hers. He needed, Meg realized with a sud
den
insight, reassurance. Parker wanted her to
want
him.

That thought made her almost dizzy. She opened her arms and he pulled her into his embrace.

"There's just something about you," he said between kisses, "that is special."

Meg kissed him, savoring the feel of his arms around hers, the hint of a beard but nothing close to icky stubble on his face, the faintest hint of that same cologne she'd liked so much the other night.

"Forgive me if this isn't right," he went on, "but I want you."

She nodded, her head moving against his chest. He was waltzing them slowly toward the middle of the large room. Beside the children's
tent
of blankets and chairs, he paused.

"I could use another lesson in make believe
,"
he said.

A gust of wind and rain hit the windows lining the far side of the room. Meg savored how protected she felt within Parker's arms. Maybe she'd addled her brain because she should be feeling anxious and nervous and worrying about what he'd think of her in the morning.

He kissed her neck, trailing his lips to the point where the skin was blocked by the cotton of her t-shirt. Reaching down, he worked her shirt up over her legs, past her hips, to her waist. Meg caught her
breath. "The way make-
believe works,
" she said, "is you use parts of
reality and blend them with what you want to happen in your mind."

"I see," Parker said as he lifted her shirt from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Then he knelt in front of her.

Meg's tummy fluttered as he kissed her belly button. Then,
as he shimmied her tights from
her legs, more than her tummy danced. She hadn't been naked with a man in so long. And she hadn't been naked with a man other than Ted ever.

She clutched his head and eased her shoes off as his hands skimmed her ankles.

Parker leaned back and gazed up and down at her body.
All she had on was her bra and
panties. Thankful she hadn't worn her old
s
crubbies, Meg watched nervously as he studied her.

“You are so beautiful,” he said, a look almost of awe on his face.

Meg laughed a half-laugh. “Now I know you're already into make-believe. I'm far from beautiful."

“Oh, no," Parker said. “I don't think you give yourself nearly enough credit." He traced
a
finger up the insi
de of one leg, starting at the a
nkle and w
inding his way slowly past her s
trong calf, circl
ing the back of her knee until s
he gasped, then moving up her inner thigh. “Beautiful."

“I've had three children and with each one my hips grew about a mile."

Parker leaned towards her and kissed the side of each hip. “Perfect."

She sig
hed. “Maybe I should play make-
believe more often."

Parker rose. He held out his hand and she took it.

"Come with me," he said, and led her to a massive mirror that dominated the wa
ll behind Pa
rker's desk.

“When Tee
nsy put this up," Parker said, s
topping behind her so that her back was to him, her body facing the mirror, "I objected."

"But now," he said as he tipped her face up to meet her reflec
tion in the mirror, "I'm very, v
ery thankful."

Meg barely recognized the woman in the
mirror. She wore only a bra and panties and leaned back against the most handsome man she'd ever met. Parker's expression was serious as he watched her study herself.