Runaway Vegas Bride (8 page)

So he stroked her hair, her back, promised her that everything was going to be okay. That he would handle anyone who said mean things to her and make it clear that they were never to treat her badly again.

Her head popped up off his shoulder and she sat up straight on his lap again. “I can’t believe they called me that name!”

“I know,” he agreed. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s one of those awful labels people use against
women, to try to rob them of their power by taking a dig at their femininity. It’s patently unfair. Especially when it comes from another woman. Especially a woman who’s supposed to love me!”

A woman? Well, at least it wasn’t Leo. But still…

“Your grandmother?”

“No, Gladdy.”

“She loves you, Jane. You know she does. She’s just…old, and it’s like old people think that their age comes with the right to be as outrageous, as demanding and as stubborn as they please.”

“Yes! I take care of her and Gram. I try really hard to take good care of them, and be a good girl. I mean…a woman. A good, responsible, hard-working, intelligent woman.”

“You are. You’re all those things.”

“And what do they do? They insult me and try to demean me with that word!”

“They should be ashamed of themselves. Do you want me to try to make them ashamed? Because I will,” he promised. He could shame sweet, little old ladies for Jane.

“I don’t think you could. I don’t think anyone could. I don’t think they have any shame. They never have!”

He hated asking. Really, he did, but he figured he had to know, because he was still afraid Leo had something to do with this. “So…Jane…what happened, exactly? To make you so upset today.”

She looked too embarrassed to tell him.

This was going to be bad. Really bad.

“It was about…picking and choosing,” she said finally. “Or…actually…not picking and choosing. Leo not having to pick between them, because…well, first, Gram said he had chosen her and that he was going to tell Gladdy everything.
But he didn’t, and when I tried to tell Gladdy instead, she said maybe he would choose, but maybe he wouldn’t have to.”

Wyatt shook his head. “Because Gladdy doesn’t want him anymore?”

“No, because Gram and Gladdy might…share.”

Wyatt figured he must not have heard her right. Or understood.

“Share…?” And then he got it. No, surely he hadn’t gotten it. “Share…Leo?”

Jane nodded, looking truly horrified.

Yeah, this was bad.

“You mean…” Wyatt had really disturbing pictures of sharing in his mind. “Take turns with him? One gets him one night and another…the other? Like on a schedule or something?”

“I don’t know,” Jane cried, looking pitiful and sad again.

“Like they’d really put up with him going from one bed to the other?”

Jane pressed her hands over her ears. “I don’t know! I really don’t want to know!”

“God, neither do I,” Wyatt agreed. “That man’s eighty-six! Something like this could kill him.”

“I would think so!” Jane whimpered.

“Your aunt really said something about her and your Gram…sharing Leo?” Wyatt couldn’t quite take it in.

Jane nodded. “She said it wouldn’t be the first time!”

“With…they’ve already…shared Leo?” Oh, please, don’t let it be that, Wyatt thought. He couldn’t take it. It was too much.

“No. It was another man. Years ago. During the war. I’m not even sure which war. I was too horrified to ask. But apparently, there was a war on, men were scarce and they
were lonely. This man showed up and they liked him, but they didn’t love him or anything like that, and he stayed around for a while, and they…shared. It worked, Gladdy said. Got them all through a difficult time, and…I don’t know. That’s what she said.”

“Damn, the women in your family are just full of surprises,” Wyatt said.

Jane nodded, then started whimpering again. “Sharing? I mean, is this what modern women are putting up with these days, and calling it a sex life?”

“Not the ones I know,” Wyatt assured her.

“Either that or…I mean, don’t tell me that he’s not going back and forth, because they’re all…You don’t think they’re all in that bed together, do you?” she cried, tears falling once again. “Surely that’s not what they meant!”

Wyatt shook his head. “No way. Not at eighty-six—”

“Even with drugs?”

“I don’t think any drug is that good,” he tried to reassure her.

“Because I would never do that, Wyatt. No way. If that means I’m a prude, so be it. I’ll be a prude. But I just can’t do that.”

“I promise, you don’t have to do that.” He would never ask her to share, or to take part in any kind of sharing, except the one-man, one-woman kind of sharing. Jane would be plenty enough woman for him, he decided.

“I just…” She sniffed, looking thoroughly defeated. “I’m not the most…adventurous woman. I know that. I’m cautious. I’m careful. I admit that, but I’m not some kind of sexual dinosaur, either! At least, I didn’t think so. Until now.”

“Oh, Jane. I’m so sorry,” he said, tucking her head to
his chest once again. Poor thing. She was just overwhelmed by the hijinks of three sexually adventurous, eighty-something-year-olds.

Who wouldn’t be?

Wyatt let her cry a bit longer, rubbing her back, stroking her hair, trying to be a gentleman, promising that this would be okay somehow.

He really hated to see her this upset, especially about that ugly word—
prude
. He was fairly certain she wasn’t a prude. And even if she did have some…prudish tendencies, he was sure he could fix those, that they couldn’t withstand the kind of effort Wyatt Gray was willing to put forth on her behalf.

An effort he was eager to extend for Jane.

He just wasn’t sure if she’d be happy about that or call him names in return, and he was seldom so uncertain with any woman. But this was Jane, and Jane was different. He tried patience, more soothing, more gentlemanly behavior, and then, when he wasn’t sure he could stand it any longer, she finally stopped crying.

And then, finally, he kissed her.

O
ne minute, Jane was devastated, thinking she was a prude and just unable to get the image of all that sharing out of her mind, and the next, she was lying flat on her back on the couch with Wyatt stretched on top of her, kissing her.

Not grabbing her, mauling her, rushing her. Just kissing her. Lazily, luxuriously, longingly. Jane wasn’t sure she’d ever been kissed like that before.

He tasted like cinnamon and coffee. Sweet. A wicked little zing that rattled around her whole body from head to toe. His lips were the softest things she’d ever felt and he smelled glorious, and the weight of his big, hard body on top of hers, the heat, the power…

Jane did not feel like a prude at all.

She did exactly what she wanted to in that moment—something she had seldom wanted to do in her life with a
man. She opened herself to him completely, throwing herself into the moment, kissing him back, feeling her heart pound and her body go limp. He had a hand in her hair, tearing it down from what was left of her hairdo after her tangle with the bush. He freed her hair and then stroked through it, holding the side of her face in one hand, nuzzling his nose against her ear. Then his mouth found the sensitive hollow of her throat, her neck.

She arched against him, heard him groan, thought about how she could just happily dissolve into a puddle in his arms, and let him do whatever he wanted to with her. Just like that.

His mouth came back to hers, and she felt his thrusting tongue. Jane thought about taking him into her body in another way. Heat pooled between her legs. A pulse throbbed. He wanted her, too. His body told her so as he rocked gently against her.

It was as if every sexual thought Jane had ever had came roaring to life, right here in this room, on Wyatt’s couch.

“I am not a prude,” she said proudly.

He lifted his head a fraction of an inch, grinned down at her. “No, you most certainly are not.”

He started kissing her again.

It felt glorious, sweet and wicked at the same time, overwhelming.

And then Jane remembered—they were in Wyatt’s office, in the middle of the afternoon. His secretary was coming back to give Jane first aid for her skirmish with the bush at Remington Park.

The bush, Leo, Gladdy, Gram, sharing…

Jane pushed Wyatt away. “I can’t do this.”

“Why not?” he asked, holding himself up on his elbows, but still stretched out on top of her.

“Your secretary’s coming back with first aid supplies, remember?”

“No. Not until you reminded me.”

“And besides, I don’t have sex with men on the sofas in their offices,” she said, then feared she was sounding prudish again.

Did women often have sex with men in their offices? Was that a requirement of non-prudishness, too?

“Am I supposed to?” she asked.

“Supposed to what?” Wyatt questioned, carefully climbing off her and sitting on the edge of the sofa.

“Have sex with men on their sofas?”

“Not unless you want to,” he told her, running his hands through his hair, hair she thought she might have mussed up herself a moment ago.

Jane sighed. It was all so bewildering. What was normal and what was not? What was expected? In her admittedly not abundant experience, men wanted a lot these days. They expected a lot. Quickly. Very quickly.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

He frowned. “Why? You’re right. Lucy is coming back. I told her to. And I know you’re not the kind of woman who’d be comfortable having sex in my office on a sofa during business hours.”

She got worried. “But does that—”

“That doesn’t make you anything except who you are, Jane, and there’s nothing wrong with who you are. Any man who tries to tell you there is is an ass and probably just out to get whatever he can get as fast as he can.”

“But you…I know you…I suspect you…wouldn’t really have a problem with…something like this.”

He shrugged. “Maybe every now and then, for some
thing quick and different. But the thing I like best…is someplace totally quiet and private, no time constraints at all, no interruptions. And nothing to do with sharing.”

“Really?” she asked in wonder.

He nodded.

“Oh.” She was thinking about pulling him back down on top of her on the couch. He knew it, too. She could tell by that flare of heat in his eyes as he watched her watching him.

She sighed, took his tie in her hand and gave it a tug. Grinning like the no-doubt wicked man he was, he happily lowered his mouth to hers once again. If she was going to be wicked herself, she might as well start right now with the time they had until his secretary did get back.

“You’re just trying to mess with me now,” he said stopping with his lips a breath away from hers.

“Yes,” she admitted.

“You know Lucy’s coming back, and you know I know, so you think you’re perfectly safe here with me. That I’m not going to really do anything.”

“Yes,” she agreed.

“That is so bad of you, Jane,” he said, still not kissing her. “And you’re supposed to be such a good girl.”

She’d been watching his eyes, his mouth, waiting for it to descend that last inch and kiss her again, and she hadn’t been paying attention to anything else. It wasn’t until she felt cool air on her chest that she realized he’d unbuttoned her blouse.

He took the tip of his nose and skimmed it along the line of her bra as it rose and fell over her breasts, nudging it aside here and there. Then he started playing with her skin with his tongue, his warm breath heating her nipples as he got closer and closer to them.

She gasped, ran a hand into his hair and grabbed on, trying to pull him away, but in the end, not having the will.

He nibbled on her collarbone, on the side of her neck. She just melted when he did that to her neck and was starting to rethink the whole sex-in-the-office thing.

Who would ever really know? Jane could be quiet. At least, she always had been, before Wyatt. She didn’t think Wyatt would be particularly quiet, though, and honestly, she wasn’t sure she could be.

She was whimpering already.

“Can you be quiet?” she asked him. “Really quiet?”

He jerked back, just enough to stare down at her, as if he couldn’t believe she had just said that. “No, but I can throw you over my shoulder and haul you out of here. I live right down the street. We can be in my bed in ten minutes flat.”

She got a little scared then.

He laughed. “Didn’t think so.”

Oh, she’d ruined it!
“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. I don’t think you’re quite ready for this, Jane. And I can wait.”

“Really?”

“Well, I don’t want to, but I’m capable of it. I’m actually looking forward to talking you into it.”

“Talking?” she asked, not feeling so bad after all.

He grinned. “Whatever it takes.”

He nearly had her blouse off by the time Lucy got back, because Jane did feel safe, she was truly enjoying herself and they couldn’t seem to keep their hands off each other and honestly, why should they?

Lucy just waltzed right in, saying, “I got antibiotic cream and…Oh, sorry. I—”

Jane gave a little yelp, face flaming. She really had forgotten, there at the end, exactly where they were.

“It’s okay, Lucy,” Wyatt said, sitting up and keeping his broad back to her.

Jane couldn’t see her, and she figured that meant Lucy couldn’t see Jane as she buttoned up her blouse, wondering just how many times Lucy had walked in on a scene like this between her boss and some woman.

No, she wasn’t going to think like that. She would just think about Wyatt and that wonderful mouth of his, those talented hands, the way he smelled, the wicked things he made her want to do.

“I’ll just leave this stuff right here and leave you two alone,” Lucy said, then whispered to Wyatt. “You know, your door has a lock on it.”

“Sorry, Luce.”

But he didn’t look sorry. He looked like a man who was very happy with himself. Of course, why wouldn’t he be?

“I bet you get every woman you want,” Jane said, not upset, not mad, just…marveling that she could ever actually think about getting involved with a man like him. Even if it was nothing but sex. Great sex.

Surely a woman was allowed to have one highly satisfying, purely sexual relationship in her life. She’d decided Wyatt would be hers.

“You really want to talk about me and other women, Jane?”

“No, actually, I don’t.”

He nodded. “Good. I’d rather talk about you and me. Have dinner with me tomorrow night. I’ve been dying to see you in something other than one of those little power suits.”

“You don’t like my suits?”

“I do. I think they’re adorable, which I know isn’t the image you’re going for. But I can’t help it. You’re just so cute.”

“You’re sounding less desirable to me with every word that comes out of your mouth,” she warned.

“Because I like the way you dress?”

“Because I am not cute. Kittens are cute. Puppies are cute. Little girls are cute—”

“So I guess you wouldn’t consider dressing up as a Catholic schoolgirl for me? Or maybe in a cheerleader outfit?”

Her mouth fell open, and she was just about to get really mad when he burst out laughing at her.

“You rat!”

“I like grown women, Jane. I have no doubt that you are one. And now that I think about it, wear one of your little suits. I always see you that way in my head, anyway. I think they’re really sexy.”

“Well, in that case, I wouldn’t dream of dressing in any way other than to please you, the man.”

“Hey, it was a compliment.”

She’d gotten her blouse buttoned up and tucked back into her skirt. “I have to go. I have to get some work done, especially if I’m not working late tomorrow night, because I’m having dinner with you.”

He handed her the bag of first-aid supplies Lucy had brought back from the store and said, “You’re really not going to let me play doctor?”

“I don’t think that would be wise,” she said, heading for the door, not quite able to believe what she’d already done today with him or what he might expect after the obligatory dinner date tomorrow night.

He watched her go, stopping her just as she reached for
the door handle, his body wrapping itself around hers, trapping her between him and the door.

“Maybe one of those suits without any underwear? What do you say, Jane?”

“That you’re crazy.”

He dropped a little kiss on her cheek and then backed up and let her go.

Lainie stared at Jane when she walked into the office an uncharacteristic hour and fifteen minutes later than expected.

“What?” Jane asked. “Was I humming?”

Or grinning like a woman who’d nearly had sex with Wyatt in his office, or one who was contemplating all the sinful behavior she might partake with him the very next evening?

“Did you get mugged?” Lainie asked.

“Oh!” Jane touched the scratches on her face and grinned. “I forgot. I hid in a bush.”

Lainie looked skeptical. “Why?”

“Because there was no other place to hide,” Jane explained.

“Does this have something to do with that man? The amazingly reasonable one?”

“Oh, I don’t think he’s all that reasonable, really. He’s actually…”

Outrageous. Wicked. Gorgeous
. Jane sighed happily, then remembered where she was. “I can’t talk about him now. I’m so far behind, and I need to get out of here early tomorrow. I have a date.”

“A date? With him?”

Jane nodded.

“Has he…done something to you?” Lainie prodded, looking worried.

“Done something?”

“Drugged you, maybe? You’re really not acting like yourself, Jane. You haven’t been since you met him. And there are all sorts of things men can put into drinks these days to get women to do anything they want. This is serious.”

“Wyatt Gray’s never had to drug a woman in his life. They probably line up for the chance to give him what he wants.”

“And that doesn’t…infuriate you?”

Jane thought about it. At one point, it would have. She knew that. But it seemed she’d discounted the whole bit about what the women might want in this situation. Women could be taken advantage of, certainly, and they often were. Jane knew from experience with the women who came to her seminars. But she didn’t think Wyatt took advantage of women. She thought he just enjoyed them, and they enjoyed him.

She wanted to enjoy him and very much wanted him to enjoy her.

“I think I may have been a little harsh in my judgments about men,” she admitted.

Lainie started dropping things, everything she was carrying, actually. A coffee mug, some papers, little pink message slips for Jane. Flustered, she hurried to pick them up, then looked at Jane as if she’d grown three heads in the last five seconds.

“What has that man done to you?” she asked.

“I know most men are jerks. Believe me, I do. It’s just that, not all of them are. There must be some decent men out there. Some who can be trusted in…certain…limited…situations.”

“You want to go to bed with him,” Lainie guessed.

Jane felt heat coming into her cheeks. “I’m allowed to have a sex life—”

“I know. You just never have before. Not in all the time I’ve known you, I bet.”

Jane clamped her mouth shut, thinking back to exactly when she’d hired Lainie. Had it been that long? She wasn’t going to answer that.

“Just be careful, okay? I don’t want to see you get hurt,” Lainie said.

“I won’t. I know exactly what I’m getting into. I certainly know that nothing lasting will ever come out of this, and that I’m not his usual type, which has made him more interested than he’d normally be. But I know that in the end, we’ll just go our separate ways, and that’ll be it.”

“And you’re fine with that?”

She sighed. “I wouldn’t say fine with that, but I’m an adult, and like you said, I get lonely at times. Wyatt’s here, and I’m here, and he’s…he’s…he’s the sexiest man I’ve ever met in my life, Lainie. I’m thinking about going to dinner with him in one of my power suits with no underwear. Does that sound…normal?”

“Not for you,” Lainie yelped.

“No, I mean for a woman not like me. A woman who likes men. Really likes them. And really likes sex. For that kind of woman. Would that kind of woman do that?”