Package Deal (25 page)

“Because you like blondes?”

“Right. And brunettes, too,” he murmured.

“Eugenie is a blon
de
.”

He pulled her closer.
“She’s not my type. D
oesn’t know a thing about Marguerite Henry.”

Amanda chuckled. “Does Eugenie know she’s been disqualified on that basis?”

“No, and don’t you dare tell her. I’m afraid she’ll go out and buy all
of
Henry’s
books and then I’m sunk! You and Cecelia will have to fight her off to protect my honor.”

Amanda laughed out
l
ou
d. “
Then
I think we should leave,
before she comes looking for you again.”

“Good idea.” He helped her on with her coat. “I need some coffee—and I’d prefer to watch the ball
drop
without mobs of people around.”

“You mean without Eugenie to crush you in a bear hug and kiss you within an inch of your life,” Amanda corrected
, giving him a wry smile
.

“How’d you guess?” He laughed and escorted her to his car.
“Politeness only goes so far.”

At his house,
Marcus
started the coffee while Amanda turned on the TV to watch the ball descend in Times Square.

“You’d better hurry, or you’ll miss it!”

“No, I won’t.
The coffee should be ready in a couple minutes.
” He
hand
ed
her one of
two champagne flutes
, and clinked his glass against hers before taking a sip as she did the same
. “
For now, we enjoy the bubbly.
Happy New Year, steady girlfriend. May
the new year
be as wonderful as the last part
of this one
has been.”
Then he kissed her.

She kissed him back.

He released her, shrugged out of his jacket, and pulled
off his tie
. “Now, where were we?” He
eyed her hungrily
as she sat down on the couch.
Before he could act on his thoughts,
Amanda leaned toward him, cupped his face in her hands, and kissed him passionately.
His throat tightened as he pulled her
closer
.
Is this the night?

Her hand slipped down to his waist.

“Amanda,” he whispered. “I have a very large bed where you will be extra comfortable.”

“I know.
Cece and I slept in it a while back.” Her hand briefly skimmed the front of his slacks.
She sucked in her breath and p
ulled
her hand
back
.
“I think the champagne is talking.”

“Let it chatter away,” he replied,
bring
ing her hand back to touch him more firmly.

She
moved her hand
as if burned
when her cell phone rang
. What did he see in her eyes—uncertainty, fear,
desire,
disappointment
…
or
was it
something else?

Her lashes hid her eyes as she looked away from him
and concentrated on the caller
.
“I
—I’ll be home soon, Cece.” She closed the phone.

I’m sorry,
Marcus.”
She
actually
sounded disappointed.
“I think we need to call it a night.”

“Why
?”

She sat up
and sighed
. “
Cece had a bad dream. Janet said she would try to get her calmed down, but I think I’d better go.Maybe I’m not quite ready for—whatever
we
…
”

“
Well, you could have fooled me.”
But he backed away from her, fearful he’d
said too much
.

“
That kiss
…
s
orry, I didn’t mean to
…
mislead you
.”
Amanda stoo
d up and reached for her coat. Keeping h
er voice flat, she said, “I need to go home. Cecelia’s waiting for me.”

Damn.Cecelia—ever the convenient little complication
. Maybe Troy was right—Cece
i
s an excuse
—whenever Amanda wants
to use it
.
His voice clipped in spite of himself, he said,
“I’ll take you home then, but do me a favor.”

“Anything.”

If only that.
He looked into her large brown eyes. “Don’t wear a dress like that where other men can see you. It drove me nuts the way they were looking at you.”

“
I thought you liked this dress.
”
Amanda
whirled slowly around as if showing it off, then
stopped and faced
him.
“
What about you? Eugenie was all over you. I thought she was going to wrap her legs around your middle during that one number—and—and knock you to the ground
so she could swallow you whole. A
nd you didn’t even try to stop her!”

“She has arms like an octopus. Short of
punching her lights out
, I was having trouble getting away from her.”

Amanda glared at him
as he helped her on with her coat
.

“Aha! The green monster raises its ugly head.” He waited for her to get into the car.

“What are you talking about? I’m no
t jea
l
ou
s.
I was just thinking how—how inappropriate Eugenie was
,
and
in front of the
entire
faculty
!”

“Ri
iii
ght!” He reached for her and
kissed
her, not wanting her to talk anymore. “How about we make a deal?”
h
e whispered in her ear
when she didn’t pull away
.

“What is that?” Her voice was quieter, but
her pulse thrummed
as he kissed her neck.

“I stay away from Eugenie and you tell that slimeball Carl to keep his hands off you.”

“Deal.” Amanda removed his hand from her breast where it had crept, and shook it.

He resumed his position behind th
e wheel and
they
drove toward town.
The silence was heavy with sexual tension. He wondered if she felt it. How could she not?
Minutes later, w
hen they stopped at a red light, Amanda
placed a hand on his nearest arm
.

“I think I le
ft something back at your house.
”

He looked over at her. “Do you want to go back for it, or should I bring it to you tomorrow?”

She turned away from the window to look at him sidelong for a long minute
, her voice barely above a whisper
. “I’d prefer
…
I think we should go back for it.”

He turned the car around. When he parked it, she opened the door and reached the porch before he turned
off the engine
. Inside the house, the lights he had left burning suddenly we
re
extinguished
.

“What the hell—” He took the steps two at a time. When he entered the house, all was quiet. He headed toward the dim light issuing from his bedroom.
He
opened the door, a candle the only illumination in the room. Amanda sat in the middle of the bed, her feet dangling over the edge
, her shoes on the floor
.
She was closing her phone.

“Is Cece al
l
right?”

She nodded.

He looked at her. “I thought you said you left something here.”

“I did.”

“Mind telling me what it was?” He pulled off his jacket.

“My desire—”

“Your desire?” He kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the bed next to her.

“For you.”
She stood up. “Don’t talk. No more talk.”

His pulse soared into the stratosphere.

Then s
he helped him out of the rest of his clothes before allowing him to unzip her dress
as
he gaze
d
at her
, unable to take his eyes off her
. He kissed her and she fell back on the pillows, pulling him with her.

“Happy New Year
,” he murmured
as
their passion overtook
them
.

Chapter 7

Marcus woke to the sounds of birds outside the window of his bedroom in the woods. Amanda lay next to him, her steady
,
slow breathing telling him she was still asleep after their lovemaking of the night before.
Six weeks of increasingly frequent time spent together.
He smiled and closed his eyes, images of
them
since
the
New Years’ Eve party
…
at the library when
they worked on plans for the summer writer’s
workshop, the walks they took—
sometimes with Cecelia who had taken to calling him her best man friend
—
and what he
now thought
of as
his
“going steady” dates
with Amanda
.

Living together. That’s what he wanted. He and Amanda and Cecelia—together all the time
.
Would she agree to that?
She was stirring. Good.
I’m going to ask her.

Marcus ran his fingers through her hair
on his way to massaging the rest of her.
While he let one of his fingers trail down her body,
slowing waking her,
heating them both, he murmured,
“Amanda,
let’s celebrate Valentine’s Day for real.M
ove in
here
with me—you and Cecelia.”

She turned her head abruptly
, eyes wide,
and stared at him.

“Did I say something wrong?
”
His pulse picked up.

After the longest minute of his life, her answer was short, unmistakable.
“No.”
The
lines on her forehead and
stiffness of her back
when she turned away from him
punctuat
ed
her
rejection.

“Just like that?
”
He struggled to ignore t
he
shaft she’d sent directly to
his heart
from that single word. “
Why not? You know you like it here.” He
reached over and
nib
b
l
ed her
earlobe
, trying not
to take her refusal personally. B
ut how could he not? Was it the living together part
,
or him
,
she was saying no to
?

He tried again.
“You said you like
d my house.” He gave her a half
hearted grin, hoping humor might soften her response. “
And
I thought you liked me.”
If not humor, pleading?

When she remained silent, unresponsive, he asked, his voice serious, “Can’t we at least discuss it?”

She lay next to him, her body tense for another long minute. Then,
her voice quietly firm
,
“
I’m sorry. It’s a lovely thought. Really
. It’
s something
that
—but I just can’t do it.” Her fingers smoothed the sheet nervously. “If I were single
…
if I didn’t have Cece—”

“But
you are single, and
she likes me.”
One hand trailed down the length of
the necklace
she always wore.

“That’s not the point. We’re not married. My mother would have a cow and—”

“You’d let your mother tell you what to do?
I thought you were a modern woman
,
a woman
who makes her own decisions
.
Like what you did after—like when you decided to keep the pregnancy …
”
He traced
circles
on her skin with one finger
, wondering again if he’d made a mistake
.
Was it his timing, or something else?

“No. Not with Cece. I can’t do it. I won’t do it.” She sat up in bed and
abruptly
moved away from him.

“Because we’re not married,” he declared.

She nodded and
padded into
the bathroom
.

He waited until she
returned
from the shower and was drying her hair.
Time to test
—
even if she hasn’t said she loves me
.
“We could fix that,” he whispered
, leaning over to kiss the nape of her neck
.

“Fix what?”
She ran her comb through her hair slo
wly
and then more vigorously.

“The
‘
not married
’
part.” He stopped
smil
ing
into the mirror at her
when she
bit
her lips and frowned
, then sat unmoving
.

Abruptly, she turned and f
aced him. “It’s not you, Marcus.” H
er eyes
were
brimming. “Really. But I—
”

It seemed forever
before she
cleared her throat and finally
spoke
, her voice low
,
pleading.
“Please. Don’t even say it.”

“Why not? You know how I feel about y
ou,
the two of you.”
His
heart pounded. “And, I thought
…
I thought you felt the same.”

She gave him a barely perceptible nod, but then
said
,
“
Yes,
I do, but
…
” She paused again. “
No
, I’m sorry
. I
just
can’t do it.
We aren’t ready for such a big step
.” She
replied
to
him
in monosyllables all
through breakfast.
Minutes after they had finished eating, she looked at him,
with
something akin to pain in her eyes, and said, “I think I’d better go.”

“I guess you should,” he replied. He fought
not to show
how hurt he felt, puzzled at her rejection. It wasn’
t like her
to refuse to meet his eyes
, to not even discuss
things
with him, to refuse to tell him why she had said no. He glanced at his watch. “
You better go—so you aren’t late picking
up Cecelia. Isn’t she at Sam’s house—or
with
Janet
?”

“Sam’s house,” she said, her voice quiet. He detected a hint of
reluctance, or was it regret
when she said it?

He took out his frustrations on the pots and pans as he cleaned up
the kitchen
after she left
, and in the yard when he raked—too vigorously—the leaves into a garden plot he had spaded up
.
Was
this
Felicity all over again?
But he rejected the thought.
Amanda
wasn’t Felicity. She couldn’t be.

Maybe she just needed more time. He
woul
d give her more time
—even if it drove him crazy
.

Two weeks later,
Amanda saw Cecelia off with her best friend, Samantha. A President’s Day weekend in Seattle with the rest of the Girl Scouts was an adventure her daughter had been looking forward to for weeks. When she boarded the train with her friends, Cecelia waved once. Amanda
wav
ed
bac
k
and headed home, pleased that her daughter was happy.

When Cecelia
had
first mentioned the Girl Scout trip to Seattle, Amanda
text
ed Marcus
. Would
he like to come over afte
r Cecelia left for the weekend?

“For a
n adventure of our own?” he
repli
ed back.

“Maybe. And dinner, if you’d like.” She wanted to cook for him, to eat dinner with him, to enjoy some relaxed evening time with him
, to consider what life might be like with him on a daily basis
—to try out life with him, re
call
ing what he had suggested weeks earlier
.
She knew he didn’t understand
why she
had
reacted so strongly
, rejecting his offer
.
He hadn’t said, but she could tell he was upset, maybe even angry with her.
She’d apologized already
, more than once, but her heart sped up when she considered it again
. She
sighed and
decided that over
dinner, they
w
ould
discuss it. Maybe.
Not marriage,
it can’t be
that,
she kept repeating to herself.
M
aybe just a regular relationship, sort of like
marriage, but not that
, at least not now, not yet
.
If he suspected what
she
had in mind, he
gave no indication
.
And he hadn’t raised the issue again.

She
was busy working on a paper
at her desk in
the little space near the stairs
w
hen
she heard stealthy footsteps and hands
covered her eyes.

S
he turned i
n her chair, her heart clanging in her chest. Before
she could say anything, he
pulled her into his arms
and
covered her mouth with his. “
You didn’t answer the door, so I let myself in through the kitchen.
I’ve been
ach
ing
to
kiss you and hold you
—all day
. How long has it been since I saw you last?”

“Twelve
hours, or don’t you remember?” S
he chuckled.
“We w
ent to
the library,
to pull material for
the summer workshop.”

“That long?
It seemed at least twice
, maybe three times
that long.” He nibbled her lower lip in preparation for another kiss.

She chuckled before kissing him back. “You’re exaggerating.”

He kissed the hollow of her neck where her pulse beat.
“
Did Cecelia get off all right?”
He felt her hands sliding down his back, past his belt.

“Yes, and she didn’t even look like she cared that she was leaving. Who
was it who
said we give our children only two things: roots and wings? I think she’s trying her wings.”

“That’s becaus
e you’ve given her roots,
and she’s happy.” He hugged her a
gain. “I want to make you happy,
and me, too.
Will you let me do that?
” He moved her sweater off her neck
and
kiss
ed
her cleavage
.

She let him tease her with his tongue and then turned and led him upstairs, closing the blinds against the light of the late afternoon sun. “I—I’m suddenly in need of a break. Will you give me a back
rub?”
she asked.

“You
r
wish is my command. Where do you want this back
rub?”

“Follow me.” She took his hand. “How much time have you got?”

“For the back
rub?”

“I changed my mind. I think I need a full body massage.” Without missing a beat, she asked, “And, may I take off your clothes?” when they reached her bedroom.

After the
brief
est of
pause
s
, he replied,
“O
nly if I can help you out of yours.”

“D
eal.”

He slipped
down
her skirt and watched as she shimmied out of her panties and reached for the front of his jeans. They were barely on her bed before he entered her and she arched her back in ecstasy. Hours later, they continued to hold one another before their excitement in exploring one another’s bodies overtook them again.