Breathe (15 page)

He took a step back and stared down into her face, his jaw slack with surprise. “My mother knew?”

Chapter Nine

Jace swore under his breath. He wasn't sure how much more he could take. My God. Their baby…his son or daughter…and he'd left Anna alone. She had cared, more than he'd thought possible. And he'd been wrong. So very wrong, and the pain of it nearly brought him to his knees.

“Anna…”

His breath caught at the end of her name and he struggled to keep control. He'd always been angry with her for what he thought she'd done, but he'd always tempered it with his own feelings of guilt on the matter. He'd always felt he'd driven her to it. But now, knowing the truth, he felt about as small as a man could get.

He'd failed her. Utterly and completely. And when her life had fallen apart, she'd still trusted him enough to come to him. He didn't deserve her and he'd endeavor to make it up to her in any way he could.

But to know his own mother had known about the baby…and she'd never said anything. He wasn't sure what to make of that.

“Why didn't she tell me?”

“I asked her not to.” Anna wiped her fingers under her eyes. He saw through the darkness, saw that they were red and bruised looking, and again felt the awful guilt that he'd caused it. His mother would never have broken a confidence. He knew that even if it did mean keeping a secret from her own son. They had always been so close, but now there seemed to be a chasm between them. Mom had watched him with a sharp eye that summer, but in the arrogance of youth, he'd ignored her pointed looks. And she'd tried to convince him not to go with Alex. And he'd gone anyway.

He'd failed her too.

“I don't know what to say, Anna. Mom should have said something. I would have been there.”

“She tried. She suspected what was happening and tried to keep you from leaving.”

He looked away, knowing she was right, hating it.

“Your mama was the closest thing I had to one of my own. When I was a girl becoming a woman, she was the one who talked to me. She taught me what was right. She told me about love. She showed me how to cook and clean and do all the things most women learn to do from their mothers. She made me feel a part of a family, rather than a girl with servants. I never asked her if she knew we'd become intimate, but she certainly understood the day I lost the baby. And still she did not judge me. She held my hand. And when Matteo was born several years later, she came to see me, and I knew she was missing the grandchild she never had a chance to know.”

He was shocked. “She said that?”

“She didn't have to,” Anna replied quietly. “I think your mother understood a lot of things.”

He pictured Mom and Dad with babies. How Dad would enjoy Matteo, showing him how to ride, like he had with Jace. And now Jace had turned his back on something he'd loved, the horses, because it had been more important to beat Roberto Morelli at his own game. And sweet little Aurelia. Mom would dress Aurelia in frills and ruffles and point out the flowers in the garden…

He blinked, desperately trying to clear his vision. His parents deserved more than he'd given them. Mom especially had taken care of Anna when it had been his responsibility.

“My mother,” he said in wonderment.

“She is a fine woman. And so very proud of you, Jace. She talks of how you have made life easier for her and for your father.”

“We were poor. I just wanted to provide for them. As I wanted to provide for you. When you told me you were pregnant, I knew I couldn't and I ran.”

“Your mama was so good to me, Jace. But it was you I really wanted. It was you I missed.”

The admission was plain and it was honest and the truth hovered around them. Their feelings, their mistakes, were finally all out in the open, and for the first time they saw each other clearly.

And what he saw was a woman who'd never been quite as privileged as he thought. One who was strong and loving and loyal, in spite of all of her hurts. A woman beautiful in a flowing pale dress, with the moonlight on the curve of her neck and her eyes puffy from crying.

He stepped forward, framed her face with his hands, and kissed her.

She tasted sweet, like the ice wine he'd poured to go with the strawberries for dessert. Her body hovered close to his, and he shifted until his hips grazed her belly and her scent drifted around him, pulling him in.

Gently, he started to release her lips, letting his hands skim down her face, his fingers trail down the soft flesh of her arms. But her lips followed his, asking for more, as goose bumps erupted on her flesh beneath the pads of his fingers.

Don't stop
, she seemed to say, and he kept his hands right where he wanted them—touching her. Touching her like he'd wanted to since seeing her again. Touching her like he had all those summers ago. Only now he was no longer a callow youth afraid to explore.

He wanted her. He wanted to show her that what had been between them hadn't been a lie. He wanted a chance to make up for all the mistakes he had made. He wanted to be given a chance to love, not just the girl she had been, but the amazing woman she had become, and he didn't want to just say the words. He'd said the words before and then had made them meaningless. No, this time he would show her with everything nside him. And so he curved her against him and kissed her, over and over, knowing that somehow this would never be enough. Not for them.

Anna clung to his shoulders, and he let feelings crest over him, feelings that he'd held inside for too long. His mouth was on hers, and she tasted exactly the same as she had then, only darker, better. No longer an inexperienced girl but a woman, tall, soft, sexy. Yes, sexy. He wanted to touch all of her, see all of her, possess all of her. She was his and had been even when he'd been so stupid that he'd let her go. Now she was his once more and he'd never let her go again.

He released her and took her hand, saying nothing. To speak would be to break the spell and he didn't want that. He wanted to speak through his actions. There'd been enough talking tonight. Enough apologies and admissions. Now he wanted to start making up for everything.

Her footsteps hurried behind him as he tugged her through the patio doors. The dew on her feet made soft squishing noises on the ceramic tile as they headed for the stairs. They were nearly to his bedroom when he wheeled around, picked her up and carried her over the threshold, using his backside to close the door quietly behind them.

The click of the door echoed in the stillness and he put her down, knowing that finally he had to say one thing.

“Are you sure?”

And then he held his breath.

Anna looked up at him, marveling at how strong and powerful he seemed. Larger than life, and hers. When he'd lifted her in his arms she'd felt young and pretty and so very, very aroused. The anticipation was quivering through her, coming back to her like a long forgotten memory. She hadn't felt like this since the last time they'd made love. Then they'd been sneaking around. Afraid of getting caught.

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. Now she was just afraid. Her feelings were already expanding, growing, remembering. How did he see her now? She was no longer that innocent girl in the blush of first love. And yet somehow it felt like they deserved this after all they'd shared—and lost.

She remembered the anguish in his voice earlier, and how he'd held her, and she knew that tonight of all nights, she needed him. She needed him to grieve for the baby they'd lost, and she needed him to give credence to the love they'd shared. It
had
been real. One last time in each other's arms felt like the right way to honor it.

She caught the dark, smoldering look in his eyes and felt everything liquefy. “I'm sure. Oh, Jace, I'm so sure. I want you.”

He came to her and instantly put his fingers on the zipper to her dress, lowered it in the silence, with only their breathing echoing through the room. His hands, warm and soft, gently lowered the sleeves from the shoulders, the bodice gaping open at the front as he pushed it down to her waist. Once he let it go, it fell off of her slim hips, melting into a puddle around her feet, and leaving her standing in shadow, wearing only her silk panties and bra.

“You are so beautiful.” He pressed his lips to her neck and left tiny fires everywhere they touched. A sigh escaped her lips, and then she reached out and began unbuttoning his shirt, button by painstaking button, until the last one was undone and she pushed it off his shoulders.

Their eyes locked. The innocent fumbling of their youth was gone. This was changed, different. More. With a full awareness and yearning.

Before her eyes, he rid himself of the rest of his clothing, came to her naked, and lifted her in his arms.

He placed her on the bed with painstaking gentleness, then stood back to gaze at her. The planes and angles of his body were highlighted by the moonlight coming through the window, and excitement thrummed in her veins. She held out her arms to him, inviting him in. One night could not make up for past wrongs. But it could go a long way in chasing away the pain and disillusionment of the past. He belonged here, with her.

He came to her, bracing his weight on his hands as he covered her body with his, warm and heavy and right. Dipping his head, he sipped from her lips over and over until sensations blended together, making her arch her back as she strained against him. He'd always had a sexual power that had driven her wild, but tonight she was vitally aware Jace was no longer that youth. Now his potency was that of a man. A man who still had the power to light her body on fire. A man whose maturity and strength were even more exciting than before.

“Anna,” he whispered hoarsely, sliding to lie beside her, his weight on an elbow while his eyes and hands ravished her body. He undid the fastening at the front of her bra, and her breasts spilled out to his gaze, creamy white in the twilight of his room. His dark gaze met hers, focused, intense, driven. She trembled, realizing she could arouse such passion in him. And when his mouth followed the path of his hands, she shuddered in absolute ecstasy.

His hands were everywhere, touching, tantalizing, until one need overrode everything—the need to feel him inside her.

She nudged him on to his back and slid off her panties. Desire battled briefly with nerves. It had been so long since she'd felt like this, and it was frightening as well as exhilarating. And yet there was a sweet vulnerability that made her turn away from his hot gaze as she slid across the bed and astride him. Taking control had never been something she'd wanted with Stefano. Now, with Jace, she longed to feel the confidence, the seductive power of bringing him to his knees.

She lifted, positioned, and took him in, inch by sweet inch.

She began to move, and she heard Jace swear softly in the darkness. His eyes glittered at her, nearly black, as his hands gripped her hips, urging her on. She watched with satisfaction as his jaw clenched and unclenched and his hips pushed in countermeasure to hers, his breath coming faster as she rocked her hips. Her heart sang as she realized she still had the power to drive him wild.

But victory ceased to matter as sensations built within, insistent, begging for release. She leaned forward, bracing her hands on either side of his head as she ground against him, harder and faster. And when he lifted his head and took her nipple into his mouth, she lost all reason and shattered against him.

Her muscles were still contracting when he grabbed her hips and plunged deep, finding his own release inside her.

A sound woke him from sleep, and he rolled sluggishly to his side.

The other side of the bed was empty.

For a moment he rolled to his back and stared at the ceiling. It didn't surprise him that she was gone. Things had gotten intense with them…really intense. All the truth coming out in one go had changed things a hundred and eighty degrees. She'd been so torn up, and so had he. And they'd found comfort in each other. Together they'd found a closeness he had never expected.

Only it had been more than comfort, more than shared grief. He ran his hand over his face. Perhaps it had been all of that in the beginning, but it had changed. Right about the time he'd laid her on the coverlet of the bed and had made love to her. Or rather—she had made love to him. His body tightened simply from remembering how she'd slid atop him, shy and seductive. That had been about the here and now.

More than their bodies had been linked. Even he knew that much. And now she was running scared. He couldn't say he blamed her. The reaction was familiar to him. It was the same one he'd made several years earlier. Only he wouldn't let her make the same mistake. They'd both grown since then. There would be no more running away. Whatever needed facing, they'd face together.

There was the sound again. He sat up a little. Perhaps she hadn't gone back to her room. Or maybe she did and she was crying again. She shouldn't have to go through that alone. Not anymore. She was just going to have to get used to the idea that they were in it together.

Silently, he rose from the bed, pulled on his jeans and padded down the hall in search of her.

Matteo's door was closed. She wasn't here. Then the soft sound of her voice reached him, wordless, a soft rise and fall of tones. He tiptoed to the next door and stopped, just out of her line of vision.

Aurelia lay in her arms, her tiny curly-haired head secure in the curve of Anna's neck. Moonlight filtered through the window, highlighting the two of them in its faded beams. Anna now wore a white nightgown, as sweet and innocent as could be, a direct contrast to the red and black underwear she'd worn earlier. The silhouette of her lissome body was visible through the light cotton, her breasts hidden behind the bodice but the delicate curve of her shoulder revealed by the tiny straps. And she was humming softly, her feet and hips moving gently to some song he might have recognized.