Dreams of Her Own (17 page)

Chapter 21

“
So much for crossing the tattoo off your list today,” Ian said as he escorted her up the sidewalk to her building. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine.” They’d spent the remainder of the afternoon and part of the evening with Ruby. Millie had finished reading
The Age of Innocence
, and Ruby had eaten to Ian’s satisfaction. “I had a really nice time. Last night”—heat crept into her face—“this morning. All day, really. And did I tell you, Ruby asked if I would come back and read to her?”

“That’s great. Thank you. It means a lot to me.” Ian’s eyes burned into hers as he stepped into her.

“I enjoyed it.” She shrugged.

Leaning in, he propped his hands on either side of the wall next to her head. Her heartbeat ratcheted up and her breathing grew shallow as her hands drifted to his chest of their own volition. “I enjoy you, Sweet Millie.” His lips brushed hers once, twice, then went in for the kill. His tongue found hers, tangled with it, sucked it into his mouth and her knees nearly gave out. Grasping her face, he changed the angle, intensifying the heat and the arousal.

Breaking the kiss, his breath came out in raspy pants. Touching his forehead to hers, he said, “I should go.”

“K.” She tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice. He leaned in, kissed her once more. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Besides spending Christmas alone? “Nothing. Darcy invited me over, but I think she and Josh should be together with her family.”

“I ordered a full Christmas dinner, complete with turkey, dressing, and cranberry sauce, for Ruby and me. Come with me.”

“Oh, but—”

“No buts. Ruby loved your company. And so did I.”

“You did?” Millie’s heart trembled as something bloomed in her chest. Hope?
He could be leaving in the spring
, her brain said.
Yes, but he’s here now
, her body countered.

“Yes.”

“What time?”

“I’ll pick you up at noon. Does that work?”

“Yes.”

Pulling her in one more time, he pressed a tender kiss to her mouth. “Goodnight, Millie.”

“Goodnight, Ian.”

“Work on that new list.”

Oh my! With that goal in mind, Millie headed up to her apartment to spend some quality time with the
Kama Sutra
.

The remains
of Christmas dinner dessert were scattered on the coffee table, holiday music playing softly in the background, as Ian handed Ruby a beautifully wrapped box.

“What’s this?” she asked, eyeing the package. “I don’t need anything.”

“Indulge me and open it, anyway,” Ian said as he sat in the chair he’d pulled up next to her recliner. After a delicious meal, they were gathered in Ruby’s living room where she was more comfortable.

Millie set aside her slice of pumpkin pie curious to see what Ian had purchased for Ruby. She gazed at his handsome face, still shocked that she was spending Christmas day with him. When he’d picked her up at noon, he’d held a piece of mistletoe over their heads, then taken her mouth with his. God, she could fall hard and fast for this man.

With shaking hands, Ruby tore open the giftwrap, and lifting the lid, sighed, as her hand reverently glided across its contents. “Oh, Ian. You really shouldn’t have.”

“You’re cold all the time, and I thought this would help. It’s cashmere.” He drew a large deep plum cashmere throw from the box and draped it over Ruby.

Millie had to look away as tears threatened. He never ceased to amaze her. His thoughtfulness and generosity filled her heart.

When her gaze returned to them, Ian was leaning over the chair while Ruby hugged him, her thin wrists visible beneath her sweater. “You’re a good boy.”

Ian straightened, his eyes suspiciously shiny, and Millie’s heart fluttered in her chest.
Danger, Will Robinson,
read the thought bubble over her head.

“I have something for you too,” Millie said, and drew her gift from her coat pocket where it lay on the end of the sofa. Not nearly as nicely wrapped as Ian’s, it was from the heart nevertheless.

“You two,” Ruby admonished, but took the gift from Millie and opened it.

“I noticed that you’re a fan of the Brontës. It’s not a first edition, but it’s still quite nice.”

This time Ruby’s eyes were the ones suspiciously shiny. “Thank you.” She opened the book, an 1869 edition of
Jane Eyre
, and regarded at it as if she held the Gutenberg Bible. “You’ll read from it later?”

“If you’d like.” Feeling Ian’s eyes on her, she lifted her gaze to his, and the look she saw there almost proved her undoing.

“The book you gave Ruby. That w
as yours, wasn’t it?” Ian asked.

“Yes.”

“Why would you do that?” he asked as he peeled off his coat.

“Because I knew it would bring her joy,” she said simply as she hung her coat on the peg beside her door.

She turned to look at him, nerves dancing along her spine. She really wanted to be the initiator tonight. She wanted to show Ian how he’d touched her heart today at Ruby’s. She just didn’t know how. Or maybe she just didn’t have the courage.

Inhaling, she walked up to him, slid her hands up his chest along his shoulders and around to his neck. Curling her fingers into his hair, she pulled his mouth down to hers.

The minute her lips met his, his hands found her waist, hauled her close, as his tongue swirled around hers. After a long searing kiss, Ian withdrew, gazing down into her eyes, a sparkle in his own. “What position would you like to check off tonight?”

“I was thinking maybe the reverse cowgirl.”

“Yee-haa!” He twirled an air-lasso above his head. “Ride ‘em, cowgirl.” He reached for her again, towing her toward the bed.

His eyes heated and his jeans hugged a noticeable bulge. Not even in her deepest fantasies did she ever imagine a man like Ian would want her.

“First things first.” At Millie’s questioning look, he continued. “Strip.”

“What?” The bottom dropped out of her stomach.

“Strip for me.” He sat on the bed, hands dangling between his thighs.

“I, uh, I can’t.” She shook her head.

“Millie, I’ve had my hands and my mouth over every inch of your body, and you’re still modest?”

Embarrassment spread through her veins like fire. At her continued silence, Ian held out his hand.

“Come here.” She approached the bed, where he drew her between his thighs and gazed up at her. “You trust me?”

She nodded.

“Good.” He began unbuttoning her sweater, peeled it from her shoulders, then made quick work of the camisole underneath. Next he got busy removing her shoes, followed by her pants, panties, and bra. “Take your hair down.”

She pulled the pins from her bun and set them on the shelf by the bed. When she stood naked and vulnerable in front of him he pressed a tender kiss to her navel.

“When will you realize how beautiful you are?”

She just shook her head.

Grasping her wrist, he tugged her into the bathroom, flipped on the light and had her stand in front of the mirror. “Look at yourself. No. Don’t turn away. And don’t cover yourself.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and held her there. Her face flamed.

But something about her nakedness against his fully clothed body shot heat and desire through her. The vision they made was primal. Elemental.

His hands skimmed up her cheeks, then into her hair, down her shoulders to her breasts, where he lifted them as if testing their weight. His hands continued their descent down her belly, sweeping over her hips to her backside, then back over her pubic area, dipping between her thighs. “Every single inch of you is beautiful. I should know. I’ve explored all of your beautiful inches. You’re beautiful here.” Ian pointed to her head. “You’re beautiful here.” He laid his hand over her heart. “And you’re beautiful here.” He caressed her face, kissed her shoulder.

At that moment, Millie Stephens lost her heart for the very first time. She reached her arms up, then skimmed her fingers up his neck as she gazed into his eyes in the mirror. “Make love to me, Ian.”

Ian’s hands rested on Millie’s thighs, as his
heart rate dropped out of the danger zone. Millie straddled him, her hair a dark cloud around her, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted. “Magnificent Millicent,” he said, breathing hard.

She’d rode him near to oblivion, her passion taking over, eclipsing her modesty and her self-doubt. If only she could see what he saw, she’d come to see the truth of her beauty, inside and out.

The moment he’d entered her, his inner caveman growled,
Mine!
He’d been her first, and now he wanted to be her last. He didn’t know how, but Millie had found a way into his heart. His soul felt complete in her presence.

But with a two-year job possible, he owed it to her–and to himself–to keep things light. Avoid the entanglement. Avoid the hurt.

He’d seen the way she looked at him. Like she could see her future. He closed his eyes. It might be too late to avoid the hurt, but he couldn’t bring himself to rip the Band-Aid off and end it before they were in too deep.

“You okay?”

Her mouth turned up into a sexy, satisfied smile. “More than.”

Grasping her shoulders, he pulled her down, nestled her head beneath his chin. Their hearts beat in double-time, as he stroked her back.

“Can I ask you a question?” He felt her stiffen.

“Yes,” came her tentative reply.

“Why the brown?”

Silence dragged on, until he thought she wasn’t going to answer, then he felt her shrug.

“I didn’t fit in in school. I wanted to be invisible, and since the Goths had already claimed black as their color, I went with brown.”

He understood not fitting in, but he wondered why someone as smart and pretty as Millie would want to be invisible. “And now?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because it’s easy. Or maybe because I’ve become comfortable with my invisibility.”

“But, you don’t want to be invisible anymore. You said so yourself. Besides, I hate to burst your bubble, but you’re not invisible. Especially not to me.” He pressed a kiss to her hair.

He felt her shake her head, as if she didn’t believe him. Before he could set her straight, she spoke up. “Ruby said you met at the public library where she worked.”

“Nice deflection, Millicent.” Smiling, he brushed her hair back from her face to see that delectable mouth lift at the corner. “Yes. I met her at the Sunset Park Public Library.”

“Is she the one who introduced you to philosophy and music?”

“Yes. But she, and her husband Curtis, did so much more.”

“How so?”

Ian was having a hard time concentrating with Millie’s naked body nestled against his, her leg thrown across him, her hand stroking his chest. “Um, when I was seventeen, my stepfather kicked me out of the house.”

Millie rose up on her elbow. “Why?”

“For finally standing up for myself. By then I was no longer a scrawny kid. Ruby’s hearty meals had added bulk and a good three inches to my height, and working with Curtis at construction sites after school had added muscle.

“One day Hank came after me for not telling him about my job. Called me selfish and ungrateful.” And a few other choice words he didn’t want to repeat to Millie. “Told me I should have been paying my fair share of the expenses. He demanded the money I’d managed to squirrel away in the bank account Curtis had helped me open. I refused. And when Hank raised his hand to me, I stood my ground, stared him down.”

Millie’s brow creased. “What did he do?”

“He backed down. That’s when I realized bullies don’t pick on those who stand up for themselves. And that’s why I told you tell those punks to go fuck themselves.”

Millie snuggled into him again, her soft skin sliding against his. “You make it sound so easy.” She sighed, her warm breath tickling his neck.

“I never said it was easy. Nothing worth having is ever easy.”

He heard her even breathing and thought she’d gone to sleep. He wrapped both arms around her and held her close.

“Ruby really loves you,” she murmured sleepily, burrowing deeper against his neck. “Thank you for introducing me to her.”

What she’d done for Ruby touched him to the core. She’d brought so much pleasure to her these last two days.

And she’d never demanded anything more from him than this. She didn’t get all pouty when he left or if he didn’t call.

He closed his eyes, breathed her in. His sweet Millie. No. Not his. Never his.

Because she deserved . . . more.

Millie shifted, sighed, and settled again.

And there was the rub. He couldn’t give her more.

Chapter 22

After Ian left the next morning, following some pretty amazing shower sex, which in her tiny shower was no small feat, Millie took advantage of the quiet to take stock.

As she tidied up her apartment, she held Ian’s bed pillow to her face and breathed him in. His scent permeated her senses and bombarded her with memories of last night, this morning, but also yesterday at Ruby’s.

His tenderness toward Ruby. His thoughtfulness for a woman not his mother.

She had no reason to think that Ian would, or could, ever be interested in a serious relationship with her. Of course, she never thought he’d want to have sex with her either, and here she was, smoothing back sheets that should have been nothing but ash after last night’s scorching escapades.

Did she dare think now that anything was possible? That Ian might be falling for her, just as she had fallen for him?

Recalling his words as he held her naked in front of her mirror, her face heated and her heart warmed. He’d said every inch of her was beautiful. Then he’d shown her.

And while she didn’t have much experience, something happened last night. Something changed. It hadn’t been about just sex anymore. The physical act had become . . . more. It had progressed from lust to love.

All her work on the Hawkins Hall RFP–a job that would take him away from her for two years. She had complete faith in his skills, and that he’d be more than qualified for the job. With her work on the RFP, it would be polished until it shined, leaving no doubt he’d be selected. And she would lose him.

But she’d never thought of him as hers. A guy like Ian wasn’t truly anyone’s.

The day of Dar
cy’s baby shower Millie hurried down the sidewalk through a crisp, cold day, the sun doing little to warm the air. In her arms, she carried the cake she’d ordered for the shower, her contribution to the festivities.

The cake, in the shape of a book open in the middle, revealed Pooh himself, seated on one side of the book, a honeypot in his lap, and on the opposite page, the Honey Tree with all his friends gathered round—Piglet, Eeyore, Christopher Robin, Kanga, Roo, Rabbit, Owl, and of course, Tigger–a quote from A.A Milne inscribed in the icing.

Shivering from the cold, Millie unlocked the front door and headed for the kitchen, on a mission to hide the cake before Darcy could see it. Laura should be there any minute, and the caterers shortly thereafter.

While the shower itself wasn’t a surprise, the theme was. They’d set up in the dining room, and to keep Darcy occupied until the guests arrived, Millie had enlisted Josh’s help. Darcy couldn’t resist a good holiday-themed movie, so Josh took her to a special showing of
It’s a Wonderful Life
still playing at the IFC Center. By the time the movie was over, they’d have everything set.

Glancing at her watch, Millie shucked her winter wear and grabbed the stack of Winnie the Pooh plates and napkins and set about the table arrangements.

She knew Ian would be there toward the end of the shower with Josh’s gift. Her stomach flipped over and she looked down at what she hoped was a nice dress. Brown with pale pink stripes, it fit her better than most of her others. Instead of her sensible SAS moccasins, she’d gone with a pair of ankle boots she’d found in the thrift store around the corner from her apartment. The two-inch heel made her feel tall, but they pinched her feet, and she knew by the end of the day she’d regret the decision to put fashion before comfort.

After overhearing Laura and Darcy talking about the current popularity of braids, she’d braided her hair before twisting it into her customary bun, which she thought gave her an air of sophistication. Would Ian notice?

Two nights ago, they’d stayed up until the wee hours of the morning, finishing the RFP, fine-tuning it before hitting ‘Submit.’ With a click of a mouse, she was letting him go.

An hour later, Darcy’s mom and sister arrived, arms laden with gifts wrapped in sunny yellows and cool greens. So different from the recent bright reds and greens of Christmas.

“She back yet?” Vanessa, Darcy’s mother, asked as she kissed Millie’s cheek.

“No, but I expect her any minute. Laura’s in the kitchen”—Millie heaved a sigh—“ordering the caterers around like a general at war.”

“That’s our Laura,” Vanessa replied, with a laugh.

Anne, Darcy’s sister, took the gifts to the antique breakfront buffet in the dining room. “Looks great, Millie.” She leaned over to get a better view at the cake. “I’ve always loved Winnie the Pooh,” she said, her eyes wistful as her hand slid down to her flat belly.

Millie’s eye narrowed.
Hmm.
It wasn’t that long ago when Anne and her husband, Matt, were separated, until Josh had stepped in and mediated their differences. Now, if the dreamy expression on Anne’s face was any indication, another child was on the way.

The doorbell interrupted her thoughts as more guests arrived.

A short time later, the shower was in full s
wing, and Darcy looked radiant sitting in the midst of all the baby gifts, Josh by her side, no sign of the injuries she’d sustained from her fall.

Gloria, sipping on her usual Bombay Sapphire Gin and tonic, Elise, Darcy’s editor, her brother Brandon and his partner, David, Laura, Cindy, Vanessa, Anne, and a couple of author friends sat around,
oohing
and
ahhing
over the tiny bodysuits, jumpers, and sleeper sets. Darcy’s mom had knitted a baby blanket as soft as rabbit’s fur. Josh’s mom couldn’t make the trip to New York for the shower, but she already had an open-ended airline ticket for mid-April when her first grandchild was due.

Darcy opened a huge box, pulling out a Winnie the Pooh crib set. “Oh, Anne. It’s precious, but I don’t have a crib yet,” she said as she eyed Josh, an expression of disappointment on her face.

Millie bit her lip and glanced over at Josh. His lawyer’s face gave nothing away.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang, and Millie’s heart gave a start.
Romeo and Juliet!
That’s Ian.
Millie patted her hair to make sure the braids were still in place.

“Who could that be?” Darcy asked as she scanned the room. “Everyone’s here.”

Josh jumped up. “I’ll go see. Probably someone soliciting.”

Millie could make out Ian’s voice, and her hand glided down the front of her dress as her mouth went dry.

“Looks like we have another guest,” Josh said as he rounded the corner into the living room. “And another gift.”

Darcy glanced up in confusion, then Ian followed closely on Josh’s heels, manhandling the beautiful crib he’d built, an expectant look on his face.

“Oh!” Darcy stood, her hands at her mouth, her eyes brimming with tears.

Josh took her hands, and kissed each one. “You were saying about the crib?”

“Oh, Josh!” She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck and sobbed.

“Hey. This was supposed to make you happy.”

“It does,” she blubbered. “So happy. Thank you.”

“Ian designed it and built it.”

This made her cry harder and Josh looked up at Darcy’s mother, helpless.

“Baby hormones. She’ll be fine in a minute,” Vanessa said, her hands waving away his concern.

Ian set the crib down and his gaze found Millie’s. Her insides quivered when she remembered last weekend and all that glorious, adventurous sex.

He gave her a quiet smile.

Darcy stopped sobbing long enough to inspect the crib. The headboard had been carved with the Honey Tree, and beneath sat Pooh, and just like the cake, he had the honeypot in his lap. The footboard depicted all his friends. It had been the inspiration for the cake Millie had ordered.

Darcy ran her hands lovingly over the varnished wood, tears filling her eyes again. “Oh Ian, it’s . . . it’s beautiful.”

Startling both Millie and Ian, Darcy threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. Looking uncomfortable, Ian shot a glance at Josh before wrapping his arms around Darcy and awkwardly patting her on the back. When she finally withdrew, Ian appeared relieved.

“Have some cake,” Darcy said.

“I, uh, thank you, but I have to run. I’m due at Ruby’s.”

Darcy placed a hand on his arm, her voice warm. “How is she?”

“Holding her own.” His voice was quiet, and his face pained.

“Let me know if I can do anything.”

He nodded and caught Millie’s attention over Darcy’s head.

Feeling Gloria’s eyes on her, Millie rose. “I’ll cut some for you to take. Your friend Ruby might like it. You can tell me how much you want.”

“Right.” He nodded to the guests and followed her to the dining room.

Ian watched as Millie picked up a plate and the knife and cut into the
cake. She looked different. For one thing, her dress fit her better than the others he’d seen. For another, she’d done something different with her hair. He liked it. He preferred it down, swirling around her, but he liked what she’d done with it.

His hands ached to touch her. To strip off that dress and bury his face in her neck. God, what was he doing? She deserved so much more than what he could offer. She deserved what Darcy had. A nice home. A husband, children. A family.

“Is this enough?” Millie asked, not looking back at him.

He stepped closer and her fresh scent assaulted him. “Mmm-hmm.” Glancing over his shoulder toward the living room to see if the coast was clear, he turned back and gave in, pressing his lips to her nape just below her hairline.

She gasped, then leaning back against him, tilted her head forward, giving him easy access.

He’d missed her. It had only been a few days, but it felt like a lifetime. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he held her against him, her sweet ass against his growing erection.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just getting another piece of cake,” Gloria said, her voice like P30 grit sandpaper on fresh-hewn wood.

Ian stepped back from Millie as if he’d just touched a live wire.

Millie spun around, two spots of color riding high on her cheeks.

“I, uh,” Millie stammered, hands fluttering with nerves.

“Oh give it a rest, Millie,” Gloria admonished, narrowing her eyes at Ian. Leaning in, a gleam in her eye, she whispered in Millie’s ear, “Teaching you anything . . . interesting?”

Gasping, Millie stepped back, then fled in the direction of the kitchen.

Ian stood stock still, feeling a little like the time Ruby had caught him sneaking in at two in the morning.

Gloria calmly considered which slice of cake she wanted, put it on a paper plate, and grabbing a fork, shoveled a bite into her mouth. Around her mouthful of cake, she said, “Don’t hurt her,” poking her finger into his chest with each word, the fork coming dangerously close to skewering him.

Wincing, he rubbed his sternum. Woman had some sharp bony fingers.

She smacked him on the cheek. “
Capeesh
?”

God, what was she, mafia? At her glittering eyes, he nodded. “
Capeesh.
”