Charmed
Page 32
"You had me worried." He brushed the hair away from her cheek. "I don't think I've ever been quite so nervous." Her lips were waiting for his when he bent his head to kiss her. "You're not sorry?"
Her brow arched. "Do I look sorry?"
"No." Taking his time, he studied her face, tracing it with a fingertip. "You look kind of smug." And the fact that she did brought him a rush of deep satisfaction.
"I'm feeling very smug. And lazy." She stretched a little, so he shifted to let her head rest on his shoulder.
"Happy birthday."
She chuckled against his throat. "It was the most… unique present I've ever been given."
"The thing about it is, you can use it over and over again."
"Even better." She tipped her head back, and now her eyes were solemn. "You were very good to me, Boone. Very good for me."
"It wasn't what I'd call an act of altruism. I've wanted this since the first time I saw you."
"I know. It frightened me—and excited me, too." She smoothed her palm over his chest, wishing for a moment they could stay like this forever, cocooned together in the sunlight.
"This changes things."
Her hand stilled, tensed. "Only if you want it to."
"Then I want it to." He sat up, bringing her with him so that they were face-to-face. "I want you to be a part of my life. I want to be with you, as often as possible—and not just like this."
She felt the old, niggling fear trying to surface. Rejection. Rejection now would be devastating. "I am part of your life. I always will be now."
He saw something in her eyes, sensed it in the tension suddenly blooming in the room with them. "But?"
"No buts," she said quickly, and threw her arms around him. "No ands. No anything now. Just this." She kissed him, pouring everything she could into it, knowing she was cheating them both by holding back. Not knowing how to offer it and keep him with her. "I'm here when you want me, as long as you want me. I promise you."
Rushing her again, he berated himself as she clung to him. How could he expect her to be in love just because they had made love? He wasn't even sure what he was feeling himself. It had all happened too fast, and he was riding on the emotion of the moment. He reminded himself, as he held Ana, that he didn't have only his own needs to consider.
There was Jessie.
What happened with Ana would affect his daughter. So there could be no mistaking, no acting on impulse, and no real commitment until he was sure.
"We'll take it slow," he said, but felt a twinge of resentment when Ana immediately relaxed against him. "But if anyone else comes to your door bearing gifts or needing a cup of sugar—"
"I'll boot him out." She squeezed him hard. "There's no one but you." Turning her head, she pressed her lips to his throat. "You make me happy."
"I can make you happier."
She laughed, tilting her head back. "Really?"
"Not like that." Amused, and flattered, he nipped her lower lip. "Not quite yet, anyway. I was thinking more along the lines of going down and fixing you lunch while you lazed around in bed and waited for me. And then making love with you again. And again."
"Well…" It was tempting, but she recalled too well what one of his meals did to a kitchen. And she had too many jars and bottles around that he might use incorrectly. "Why don't we do it this way—you wait for me while I fix lunch?"
"It's your birthday."
"Exactly." She kissed him before she slid out of bed. "Which is why I get to do everything my own way. I won't be long."
It was a pretty stupid man who wouldn't take a deal like that, Boone decided as he leaned back with his arms crossed under his head. He listened to her running water in the adjoining bath, then settled down to imagine what it would be like to spend the afternoon in bed.
Ana belted her robe as she walked downstairs. Love, she thought, did marvelous things for the spirit. Better, far better, than any potion she could brew or conjure. Perhaps in time, perhaps with enough of that love, she could give him the rest.
Boone wasn't Robert, and she was ashamed to have compared them, even for a moment. But the risk was so great, and the day so marvelous.
Humming to herself, she busied herself in the kitchen. Sandwiches would be best, she decided. Not terribly elegant, but practical for eating in bed. Sandwiches, and some of her father's special wine. She all but floated to the refrigerator, which was crowded now with Jessie's artwork.
"Not even dressed yet," Morgana said through the back screen. "I suspected as much."
With a boneless turkey breast in her hand, Ana turned. Not only was Morgana at her kitchen door, but crowded around her was Nash, Sebastian and Mel, too.
"Oh." She felt the flush blooming even as she set the lunch meat aside. "I didn't hear you drive up."
"Obviously too self-involved, with your birthday and all," Sebastian commented.
They piled in, bringing hugs and kisses and pushing ribboned boxes into her hands. Nash was already opening a bottle of champagne. "Find some glasses, Mel. Let's get this party started." He winked at his wife as she collapsed in a chair. "Apple juice for you, babe."
"I'm too fat to argue." She adjusted her weight—or tried to. "So, did you hear from Ireland?"
"Yes, a chest this morning. It's gorgeous. Glasses in the next cupboard," she told Mel. "Gifts inside. I talked to them…" Right before she'd gone upstairs to make love with Boone. Another flush heated her cheeks. "I, ah, I really need to…" Mel shoved a glass into her hand with champagne brimming up to the lip.
"Have the first glass," Sebastian finished for her. He cocked his head to the side. "Anastasia, my love, you look quite radiant. Turning twenty-seven certainly appears to agree with you."
"Keep out of my head," she muttered, and took a sip to give herself a moment to figure out how to explain. "I can't thank you all enough for coming by this way. If you'd just excuse me a minute."
"No need to get dressed for us." Nash poured the rest of the glasses. "Sebastian's right. You look fabulous."
"Yes, but I really need to—"
Her brow arched. "Do I look sorry?"
"No." Taking his time, he studied her face, tracing it with a fingertip. "You look kind of smug." And the fact that she did brought him a rush of deep satisfaction.
"I'm feeling very smug. And lazy." She stretched a little, so he shifted to let her head rest on his shoulder.
"Happy birthday."
She chuckled against his throat. "It was the most… unique present I've ever been given."
"The thing about it is, you can use it over and over again."
"Even better." She tipped her head back, and now her eyes were solemn. "You were very good to me, Boone. Very good for me."
"It wasn't what I'd call an act of altruism. I've wanted this since the first time I saw you."
"I know. It frightened me—and excited me, too." She smoothed her palm over his chest, wishing for a moment they could stay like this forever, cocooned together in the sunlight.
"This changes things."
Her hand stilled, tensed. "Only if you want it to."
"Then I want it to." He sat up, bringing her with him so that they were face-to-face. "I want you to be a part of my life. I want to be with you, as often as possible—and not just like this."
She felt the old, niggling fear trying to surface. Rejection. Rejection now would be devastating. "I am part of your life. I always will be now."
He saw something in her eyes, sensed it in the tension suddenly blooming in the room with them. "But?"
"No buts," she said quickly, and threw her arms around him. "No ands. No anything now. Just this." She kissed him, pouring everything she could into it, knowing she was cheating them both by holding back. Not knowing how to offer it and keep him with her. "I'm here when you want me, as long as you want me. I promise you."
Rushing her again, he berated himself as she clung to him. How could he expect her to be in love just because they had made love? He wasn't even sure what he was feeling himself. It had all happened too fast, and he was riding on the emotion of the moment. He reminded himself, as he held Ana, that he didn't have only his own needs to consider.
There was Jessie.
What happened with Ana would affect his daughter. So there could be no mistaking, no acting on impulse, and no real commitment until he was sure.
"We'll take it slow," he said, but felt a twinge of resentment when Ana immediately relaxed against him. "But if anyone else comes to your door bearing gifts or needing a cup of sugar—"
"I'll boot him out." She squeezed him hard. "There's no one but you." Turning her head, she pressed her lips to his throat. "You make me happy."
"I can make you happier."
She laughed, tilting her head back. "Really?"
"Not like that." Amused, and flattered, he nipped her lower lip. "Not quite yet, anyway. I was thinking more along the lines of going down and fixing you lunch while you lazed around in bed and waited for me. And then making love with you again. And again."
"Well…" It was tempting, but she recalled too well what one of his meals did to a kitchen. And she had too many jars and bottles around that he might use incorrectly. "Why don't we do it this way—you wait for me while I fix lunch?"
"It's your birthday."
"Exactly." She kissed him before she slid out of bed. "Which is why I get to do everything my own way. I won't be long."
It was a pretty stupid man who wouldn't take a deal like that, Boone decided as he leaned back with his arms crossed under his head. He listened to her running water in the adjoining bath, then settled down to imagine what it would be like to spend the afternoon in bed.
Ana belted her robe as she walked downstairs. Love, she thought, did marvelous things for the spirit. Better, far better, than any potion she could brew or conjure. Perhaps in time, perhaps with enough of that love, she could give him the rest.
Boone wasn't Robert, and she was ashamed to have compared them, even for a moment. But the risk was so great, and the day so marvelous.
Humming to herself, she busied herself in the kitchen. Sandwiches would be best, she decided. Not terribly elegant, but practical for eating in bed. Sandwiches, and some of her father's special wine. She all but floated to the refrigerator, which was crowded now with Jessie's artwork.
"Not even dressed yet," Morgana said through the back screen. "I suspected as much."
With a boneless turkey breast in her hand, Ana turned. Not only was Morgana at her kitchen door, but crowded around her was Nash, Sebastian and Mel, too.
"Oh." She felt the flush blooming even as she set the lunch meat aside. "I didn't hear you drive up."
"Obviously too self-involved, with your birthday and all," Sebastian commented.
They piled in, bringing hugs and kisses and pushing ribboned boxes into her hands. Nash was already opening a bottle of champagne. "Find some glasses, Mel. Let's get this party started." He winked at his wife as she collapsed in a chair. "Apple juice for you, babe."
"I'm too fat to argue." She adjusted her weight—or tried to. "So, did you hear from Ireland?"
"Yes, a chest this morning. It's gorgeous. Glasses in the next cupboard," she told Mel. "Gifts inside. I talked to them…" Right before she'd gone upstairs to make love with Boone. Another flush heated her cheeks. "I, ah, I really need to…" Mel shoved a glass into her hand with champagne brimming up to the lip.
"Have the first glass," Sebastian finished for her. He cocked his head to the side. "Anastasia, my love, you look quite radiant. Turning twenty-seven certainly appears to agree with you."
"Keep out of my head," she muttered, and took a sip to give herself a moment to figure out how to explain. "I can't thank you all enough for coming by this way. If you'd just excuse me a minute."
"No need to get dressed for us." Nash poured the rest of the glasses. "Sebastian's right. You look fabulous."
"Yes, but I really need to—"
