Harlequin Superromance February 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: His Forever Girl\Moonlight in Paris\Wife by Design (20 page)

Maggie wrapped her arms around Tess, and the emotion unleashed. Just like in Graham's car, grief, hurt and anger swamped Tess, rending her control, sloughing away any power she had against the feeling. For several seconds she allowed herself to cling to her mother's strength.

Finally, Maggie eased Tess away from her. “I can't fix things for you, baby. You should have learned that long ago. Or...maybe I learned it.”

“That was before. When my life was golden.”

“Life can't be golden every day. Having dark days makes the golden ones precious. Believe me, I've learned to bask in the light and hold tight to the memories of the sun on my shoulders during times I can't see. Nothing's perfect, Tess. You just never learned to accept that sometimes good and bad must exist together.”

“I haven't had much bad in my life until recently. Now everything's turned to shit.” Tess rubbed her eyes.

Maggie sighed. “Yeah, it is kind of shitty, but we'll survive as best we can, enjoying the golden moments that crop up.”

For a moment, they stood quietly, each wrapped in their own thoughts.

“Mama?”

“Yeah?”

“I can't talk to Daddy yet. I need more time.”

Maggie turned and measured her with astute green eyes before giving a curt nod. “Okay, you think about the words we exchanged today, but...”

Tess looked up, expecting more words of wisdom.

“...don't take too long thinking about forgiveness. Imagine a world without your father. Imagine a world in which you never break through your anger at him. Your life has always been better because your father was in it.”

And then something hit Tess. A sort of understanding, heavy and dark, slammed into her. There were no words for what it was. Or maybe there were, but Tess couldn't have found them.

And it hurt like a knife stuck into her soul.

“Mom, don't say that. Don't act like he won't make it,” Tess said, her voice cracking.

Her mother shook her head, waving off the tears, waving off falling apart as she'd done for all of Tess's life. “Don't. Don't make me cry.”

Tess sank back against the cushions and fell silent while her mother reclaimed herself. Finally, Maggie tugged her tunic shirt down, breathed deeply and gave a small smile. “I have to get back to lunch. If I burn the sauce, your grandmother will tell everyone in Golden Oaks. Last time, I got recipe cards from three of the women there.”

Tess tried to smile but the effort fell flat. “I'll be up in a minute.”

Maggie nodded and walked up the stone pavers toward the grand patio sweeping across the back of the house. Well-maintained flower beds spilled beautiful blooms onto the manicured lawn. Everything was picture-perfect, the absolute best available, marred only by the cancer growing inside the walls her mother entered.

The irony soured Tess's stomach.

She closed her eyes as if doing so allowed her to close out the world she didn't want to face.

But that was the problem.

She'd stuck her head in the sand and hoped things like dealing with her father and dealing with what she felt for Graham would go away. Thing was...they hadn't.

Can't run from the world, Tess.

She'd have to face her demons, putting one foot in front of the other. The first hurdle she'd face would be her father.

The fact he'd lied to her, even by omission, still hurt. Then fresh pain tumbled in at knowing he'd tried to protect her from her own ego. He'd tried to fix her mistakes before she'd even made them, planning from his grave to take care of Tess. Something about that thought was comforting, and the other half was maddening. He hadn't had faith in her.

But maybe she'd had too much faith in herself.

She'd never considered her father might be right. So certain she could handle every situation that came up at Ullo, Tess hadn't accepted any weaknesses in her skill set. But she'd learned very quickly at the smaller Upstart, she had little experience with hammering out contracts, crunching the numbers, dealing with insurance and codes and reviewing the legalities. At Ullo, she'd always handed that stuff over to someone else. Working hard to prove herself, she'd struggled with the nuances in which Monique had expected her to be proficient...the ones Tess had never learned because she'd never had to.

Not to mention she still dealt with hostility from Cecily, blowback from the artists and delicate intrapersonal relationships with Josh and Monique. The pressure Monique placed on her to bring in new accounts pulled at her day and night.

What would things be like if she'd stayed at Ullo?

Had her pride led her to greater hardship? Had it pointed her in a direction she was never meant to travel?

She didn't know the answers to any of her own questions, and unfortunately, her mother had been right.

Tess would have to walk the path she'd hacked out of the jungle of life on her own. Any missteps would be her own. Time to own her mistakes, suck it up and move forward. There were no do-overs.

But she could move forward with a better vision, accepting exactly what her mother had said—life isn't perfect.

To recognize the good, she had to experience the bad.

Tess rose, and like her mother moments ago, straightened her shirt, took a deep breath and gave the world a tremulous smile.

* * *

F
RANK
U
LLO
FORCED
HIMSELF
to sit up straight at the dinner table when all he really wanted to do was lie down. Some people who underwent chemotherapy didn't feel too bad. Some did. He was in the latter category, which made him angry. The least this bastard cancer could do was leave what little he had left of life alone.

His family chattered as if it were just another Sunday. He supposed it was just another Sunday to them, but to him it was the fourteenth Sunday since he found out he was dying. Thinking about the day that way caused an incessant pricking of his conscience.

How many more Sundays did he have?

Looking down the table, Frank settled his gaze on his youngest, who'd been awfully polite and quiet during the meal. He'd seen Maggie take her out for a talk. Part of him resented his wife's interference, part of him felt relief. He and Tess had gone too long without talking.

She lifted her eyes and caught his gaze. Holding it this time, rather than looking away, her eyes filled with tears. The sight ripped at his heart. Tess dropped her eyes and shoveled her food around on her plate before looking around at her brothers and their wives assembled at the table. The kids were all in the kitchen and the meal had passed without any bickering or spilled iced tea.

Clearing her throat, Tess asked, “Do you guys think I'm difficult?”

His sons stopped eating and looked at their much younger sister.

“What do you mean?” Joseph asked. This son was always calm and reasonable, repressing the dreamer he'd once been.

“I mean, do you guys think I'm hard to deal with?”

Maggie pressed her lips together and looked at him. Frank raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

Michael laughed. “What dude has told you this?”

Tess grimaced. “This isn't about a guy. I'm just wondering.”

“Hell, yeah, you're difficult,” Frank, Jr. said, jabbing a fork at her. “You always have been. Remember when she was teething, Ma? And we couldn't get her to stop biting everything? She bit the poor dog every time we turned around.”

“And when she decided she was going to be a chef and made us those terrible cookies and brownies every day?” Michael made a face. “That kick lasted for months.”

“Or when it came to her spelling?” Joseph smiled, joining in on the fun. “Or putting sunscreen on her? Or how about when she had to take medicine?”

“She's just like Granny B,” Michael concluded, lifting a finger in the classic eureka pose.

Frank watched the aggravation gather on his daughter's face. She never should have asked her brothers if she was difficult. New tears gathered in her eyes.

“I'm not like Granny B, Michael,” Tess said, not huffy like she'd usually get, but rather resigned.

“Yeah, you are,” Frank, Jr. said, with an emphatic nod. “You might be worse. You've still got a lot of years left on you.”

“Hush,” Maggie intoned. Laurie and Beth also shot looks toward their husbands.

Frank looked down at his daughter. “Tess?”

This time she didn't ignore him. “Yeah?”

“You're worth the trouble, baby. Always have been.”

His words caused Tess to burst into tears.

Michael pulled away from his sister as if she were a loathsome cockroach, shooting his dad a funny expression. “Why'd you go and do that for? We haven't even gotten to dessert yet.”

For the first time in weeks, Frank felt a lightness bloom within him. He looked at his baby girl crying into her napkin and knew her anger had abated. Something in the way she'd looked at him had told him all he needed to know. Tess had forgiven him for his transgression. She'd seen things from his side of the table and had accepted in some small way that his view was valid.

Didn't mean things were healed between them.

But he could wait.

Didn't have a lot of time left in this world, but for the moment it was enough.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

T
ESS
WALKED
INTO
her loft feeling as if she'd been washed twice and hung out to dry. Limp as a noodle, her conscience cleaner, she sank onto her couch and looked around the silent room. She'd tidied the place that morning, picking up the gold dress she'd flung on the chair the night before, scooping up the sandals tossed capriciously onto her fluffy area rug. Her cleaning service had come Friday and the apartment smelled clean. Everything in its place.

But it was lonely.

Picking herself up, she opened the fridge. Maybe she'd make supper. She closed the door. Or not.

Emptiness stared back at her when she spun around.

Her fingers seemed to reach for her phone as if they weren't even attached to her brain. Scrolling through her contacts, she found him.

Graham Naquin.

Her finger hovered over his number before she sighed and tossed the phone onto the counter.

A booty call? Really, sister, it's come to that?

So she wanted him? So she'd dreamed about him all last night? So she'd regretted not finding an immediate exit so she could get busy with him in the parking lot?

Did that mean she had to call him and—

The sound of the buzzer interrupted her personal lambasting. Probably Gigi coming over to chat her up about the amazing guy she'd hooked up with the night before. She'd seen drunken pics on Facebook earlier. Or it could be food delivery or—

She pressed the button. “Yes?”

“Tess?”

“Graham?” A rush of pleasure, of anticipation.

“Hey, let me in.”

“Not by the hair on my chinny, chin, chin,” she muttered, before pressing the buzzer.

Ask and you shall receive.

Rifling through her purse, she found some breath mints. She hadn't eaten much of her mother's garlicky pasta, but she'd had a bite. After tossing a mint in her mouth, she tucked her hair behind her ears, giving her cheeks a pinch. She wished she'd had time for a shower, time to wash her face after bawling like a baby at the dinner table.

He knocked on the door.

Too late.

“Come in,” she called, turning on the faucet as if she'd been about to start the...

No dishes in the sink.

Turning off the water, she grabbed a dishtowel and dried her hands, spinning toward the door as it opened.

“Hey,” she said inanely, her eyes working over every inch of his body. “What are you doing here?”

He closed the door. “Breaching your walls.”

“Beg your pardon?”

Graham advanced, his gaze determined, his mouth set. “I'm about to breach your walls the only way I know how.”

“I'm not sure what you're talking about. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not a lady in distress, and there isn't an actual castle.”

He stopped in front of her, not touching her, but close enough for her to wish she'd popped a second mint. “You're a lady in distress if there ever was one.”

Point taken.

“Maybe a little distressed, but I'm working through it,” she said, studying his beautiful lips. How could a man have pretty lips? But Graham did. Graham had pretty everything. He was a walking dirty sex dream.

“Are you?” he asked, his eyes equally thoughtful and sinful.

“Giving it the ol' college try,” she said, sucking in some air so she didn't pitch forward and cover his body with her own. That might happen later. God, she hoped it happened later, but right now there were questions. “Seriously, what are you doing in the enemy camp?”

“Can we shelve that? I'm tired of talking about why. I'm tired of it being you against me.”

“Tired of being enemies?”

“You know we aren't enemies,” he said, hands now propped on his hips, legs akimbo. “We're far from that designation.”

“Okay, we're not enemies, but we're not playing for the same team.”

“And whose fault is that?”

Tess felt aggravation hone in on the desire that had already overtaken her. “Are you here to fight?”

“Hell, no. I'm here for the opposite,” he said, grabbing her by the hips, drawing her to him. She let him because she couldn't think of a good reason not to. Okay, she could, but she wanted Graham more than she wanted her principles at that moment. She'd think about those tomorrow. Along with all the other thoughts that had tumbled about in her head that afternoon. She didn't want to talk about why, either...or anything else, for that matter.

She crooked her head and smiled. “The opposite of fighting is—”

“Loving,” he said, his head dipping toward hers. “After last night, I figured there's nothing else I can do to make things up to you, nothing else I can do to make you feel better....but be your sex slave for one night.”

Tess caught him by the jaw just before his lips covered hers. “Who said it was your responsibility to make anything up to me?” she whispered.

“Maybe it's not. Maybe I just want to see you smile,” he said, his blue eyes nearly violet as he studied her.

Tess smiled. “Sex slave? I think that's the best offer I've received in a while.”

“Good,” he said, one arm going around her. “Now stop talking.”

“But what about tomorrow? What about when life closes in and we're back to the real stuff?”

“To hell with tomorrow. I want this moment, Tess. I want you,” he breathed as he covered her mouth with his.

A beautiful sweet hunger swept through her. Holding his head in both her hands she took from him as much as he took from her. The kiss went from sweet to hot in seconds.

Tess moved backward, tugging Graham toward her bedroom, but she ran into the counter.

“Oh, let's go—” She tried to get the words out, but she couldn't seem to stop kissing him, to stop running her hands up and down his back.

He cupped her ass and lifted her onto the cold granite. Pulling back slightly, he tugged the shoulder of her blouse to the side but met resistance.

“Here,” she said, grabbing the elastic bottom and jerking the shirt over her head. She'd worn a plain white bra that day, nothing dazzling or sexy, but Graham didn't seem to mind. His hands made short work of the clasp.

“Ah,” he breathed as she shimmied out of the stretchy cotton, her breasts jiggling with the effort. “I've dreamed about these.”

Tess smiled and her eyes widened...and then shut as his mouth moved down her body, capturing one breast and sucking it into the heat of his mouth. “Graham.”

“Mmm” was all he said.

Boneless, Tess fell back to her elbows, knocking some papers to the floor and hitting the empty fruit bowl. Graham ignored the clatter, choosing instead to shift his attention to her other breast and tugging her pelvis tight against his, unapologetically grinding his erection against her sensitive flesh.

“The bedroom,” she gasped as he continued the delicious torture. At that moment there was nothing else but Graham, his magical hands and hot mouth.

He lifted her into his arms and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Raising his head, he kissed his way up her throat to her mouth and walked to her bedroom.

Graham set her on the bed and she reached back to catch herself, unwittingly thrusting her chest forward. Legs sprawled, back arched and breasts unbound, she likely looked like a calendar girl. He stepped back and caressed her with his gaze as he slowly raised his soft T-shirt, revealing a sculpted torso. Graham wasn't freakishly muscular, but he was hot. He'd gotten some sun since she'd last seen him, and the golden flesh made Tess's mouth water.

Unbuttoning his shorts, he allowed them to slide down his legs, leaving only his tented boxers in place. It was a delightful striptease, made even humorous when he stood absolutely naked in front of her wearing only his running shoes.

“I like your look,” she said with a wicked smile. “Are you jogging off somewhere as soon as we finish?”

His teeth flashed in the dimness of her room. “Ah, baby, it's going to be a long time before I leave.”

Tess shimmied out of her shorts and tossed them across the room, leaving only a tiny pair of bikinis covering the area Graham's eyes zoomed to. Thankfully, she'd waxed a few days ago in anticipation of hitting the pool with Gigi. Finally, something she'd done right.

Lifting her arms, she reached for him. “Please.”

He toed off his shoes, pulled off his socks and lowered himself to his knees, inching forward across the area rug toward her. “All in good time. You see, I've had these dreams, these memories of the way you feel beneath my hand. Memories of the way you smell, the way you taste, and the sound you make when you come. You can have your fun, Tess, but only after I've had mine.”

With that, he gently pushed her onto her back, tugging her knees so her legs dangled off the side of the bed on either side of his body. Then he leaned forward and blew on the exact spot that throbbed for him.

“Ohhh,” she said, her hips tilting toward him.

“Yeah, just like that,” he said, his hands sliding down her equally smooth legs, lifting them so they draped over his shoulders. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her panties and peeled them off her. The smile he flashed when she lifted her head to look down at him made her shiver with anticipation.

And then Graham Naquin, the man who'd stolen her job, the man she'd tried to outwit in business, the man she'd fallen half in love with months ago made Tess scream his name.

* * *

G
RAHAM
RUBBED
THE
sweet melon-scented soap over Tess's breasts, enjoying the way the flickering candles played over her wet skin. “If we don't get out, we're going to get all wrinkly.”

“Who cares?” Tess sighed, lifting her leg and using her big toe to shut off the hot water she'd turned on to warm the tepid. “I've never had a better bath. You're like a soft easy chair I can snuggle into.” She wiggled against him, allowing her bottom to brush against his genitals.

When he laughed, the water sloshed over the hills and valleys of Tess's body which he liked. Clutching the soap tightly, he continued washing, lifting her arm and soaping the length of it.

She sighed again.

Best sound ever. No, second best. First was when she'd called his name and shuddered against him. He could go to his grave happy after hearing that one.

“So that's why you lured me over to your place,” he teased.

Tess turned the head she had resting on his chest. “I did not lure you over. This wasn't my idea.”

He made a face.

“So why did you come?” she asked, her voice suddenly serious. “Or maybe the better question is why did I let you in?”

“I'm a sure thing?” He didn't want to talk about whys. He wanted to live in the moment. He couldn't handle serious talk right now because serious talk set something between them.

“So confident,” she said.

“I thought that's what you liked about me,” he said, lifting her other arm and washing that one, too. Dropping it back into the soapy water, he wrapped his arms around her, locking her to him. She felt good against him. He could hold her this way forever.

“I like a lot of things about you,” Tess said, laying her arms over his. “I like your confidence, I like the father you are to Emily and I like the way you fill out your running shorts.”

He laughed. More water moving over her body. Beautiful. “Actually, I joked about confidence. I'm surprised that's a characteristic you like about me.”

“Everyone has doubts, right?” she said.

At that moment he could see the doubts Tess carried and knew he could put at least one of those to bed. “Yeah, but my lack of confidence is what kept me from you in the first place.”

Her head tilted and a piece of the honey-streaked hair she'd piled atop her head fell loose. “What do you mean?”

“Last year was tough. I lost my job and couldn't find another one. I was either too experienced or not experienced enough. My financial situation got pretty grim. Actually, when the headhunter repping your father called me, I was on the cusp of taking a job at a local electronics store.”

Tess stiffened slightly—was she shocked or disappointed? “Things are tough out there.”

He wanted to say “you wouldn't know that” but bit his tongue. At the very least, he had to give Tess credit for refusing to bend to her father's will and striking out on her own. She'd done pretty damn well, taking a fair chunk of Ullo's business with her. “Yeah, it is tough which is why when I landed this job—the perfect job—I was not as much ecstatic as relieved. I didn't really want to have to hawk big-screen TVs and routers.”

“Hmmm,” was all she said. He didn't know what to make of her response. Was she angry? Or did she pity him?

“And that's the real reason I didn't return your call. I had every intention of calling you when I got to New Orleans, but I wanted to get set up here, get caught up on my bills. I didn't want to come to you half a man. I was too embarrassed to tell you the real reason, so I let you think it was no big deal.”

Tess sat up, water sluicing off her back as she twisted to face him. In the low light, he couldn't read her eyes. Her mouth drew into an outraged line. “You think having a hard time financially makes you half a man?”

Didn't it? He didn't know one man who would blurt out “I'm over-extended and I don't have a job. Wanna go on a date?” Hell, no. Dudes wanted to show they could afford a good bottle of wine and a filet. “I wanted to be stable, able to take you out for that night on the town I'd promised you without having to calculate the cost. Frankly, my pride stood in my way. I didn't want to be the loser I'd felt like for the last six months,” he shrugged and shifted his gaze away. “I wanted to be good enough for you.”