Tempt Me, Taste Me, Touch Me
Page 36
She knew better than to believe that Jack truly cared for her.
Whatever he was feeling was nothing more than great sex.
It would have been so easy, so wonderful to go along with him, but it wouldn't have been fair. Not to Jack. And not to herself. Because once the lust wore off and he woke up next to her thinking "What is she doing here?" the hurt would be unbearable. She needed to get away from Jack, go back to the hotel, convince her friends to take her home.
Too bad she already knew that San Francisco wasn't her home anymore. Jack's linoleum floors, soft cotton sheets, and wide front porch were home.
She ran through the vines, her tears blinding her as she pushed on to his front door, through his kitchen, wanting to get her dress and heels and leave.
But she'd forgotten about the bread.
The unmade loaf sat in the window, illuminated by the sun.
While they'd been making love in his pool, the honey bread had been rising.
She couldn't leave. She wasn't strong enough to fight against
the one thing she'd been searching for her whole life.
Love.
She heard his footsteps behind her. She knew what he'd say. "You're special, Rose." Her heart flip-flopped within her chest.
''I'll keep telling you until you believe me."
Still looking at the risen dough, she didn't turn around.
His voice was closer now. "I'll keep showing you until you can't deny it anymore. Ever again." His words were rough, full of emotion.
She didn't go to him. She couldn't, not with her fear so plain on her face. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she walked to the windowsill and picked up the bowl of dough.
"I believe you;' she said quietly, even though she didn't. Even though she couldn't.
Why would this man, Jack Gerard, ever think a woman like her was special? She wasn't exciting. She wasn't famous. She wasn't glamorous. She wasn't a size four sexpot with Barbie doll br**sts and legs up to her armpits.
But since she wasn't strong enough to leave, there was no other option but to grab this time with Jack with both hands, to let herself keep falling, no matter how much it would hurt when she went back to her empty life on Sunday evening.
Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile to her lips. It was a small one, but it was all she could manage. She turned around, grateful for the heavy weight of the bowl, because it kept her shaking hands from betraying her shaky heart.
"Let's bake bread' was her peace offering. Thankfully, he took it. In silence, they gently deflated the dough and turned it out onto a floured board. Dividing it into two equal portions, Tack showed her how to form the dough into round loaves, which they placed on parchment-lined baking sheets.
"The dough will rise again for thirty minutes, and then we bake it:'
Rose nodded, and because his face looked so serious, too serious, she leaned over and kissed him. "How about a quick shower?"
His grin put the sunlight to shame as it effortlessly lit up the room. Grabbing his hand, Rose got ready to make the most of her remaining time in heaven.
JACK DIDN'T REGRET WHAT HE'D SAID. He didn't regret anything he'd done. But still, he wondered what was going on behind Rose's deep blue eyes. He'd seen the shock, the disbelief, and something else he hadn't been able to name in the pool. She'd run from him and he'd wanted to chase after her, to hold her tightly against him. But he'd understood that at that moment, flight had been her only option. And then again in the kitchen, when she'd been standing in front of the window, he'd felt her loneliness and he'd wanted to knead it out of her. But it hadn't been what she'd needed, so he'd reined in his need to try and make everything better.
Finally she'd turned to him, smiling, and he'd wanted nothing more than to tell her all the reasons why she was the woman he'd been looking for his whole life.
Instead he'd let her take him into the shower, let her mouth tease and taste him everywhere, let her soap him up, until he'd been gripping the walls, coming into her mouth. Then he'd shown her that he was as good a student as she, drinking in her passionate responses to his touching, his kisses, his fingers as they'd stroked inside her.
After he dried her off with a fluffy, sage green towel, she wrapped it tightly around her and stood in the middle of his bedroom.
"I really don't want to put that dress back on:'
"It's fine with me if you want to do the rest of your lessons in the nude' he said, deliberately misunderstanding her.
She let go of the towel with one hand to playfully smack his chest. "You know that's not what I mean. I've got to go back to the hotel to change." The towel slipped down just enough that he could almost see the tip of her nipple.
"Smack me again' he said, pressing a gentle kiss to her mouth, hoping she'd drop the towel. But she was a woman on a mission, and she pulled it up higher. "Clothes;' she said, breathlessly. "I need clothes."
"No, you don't. I like you naked best' he said, but he knew when he was beat, so he headed for the dresser in the guest room and pulled out another sundress.
Rose looked at the brown-and-purple frock and groaned.
"This is the best you can do?"
"I never said my sister had good taste in fashion, did I?"
"No;' she muttered as she dropped the towel, "you certainly didn't. Although I can't help but wonder if you're using this horrible dress to try to convince me to stay nude."
Before he could shout "Please' she slipped the ugly dress over her shoulders, hiding her luscious curves from view.
She turned and looked at herself in the mirror. And grimaced.
"Oh, God, I look hideous. There isn't an underground tunnel I can take to get back to the hotel, is there?" Jack still thought she looked amazing, unflattering sack of a dress or not.
"Clothing aside;' she continued, "I've got to head back to the hotel to change and find my friends to let them know that I haven't been killed by an axe murderer. Should I meet you later?"
"I'll go with you' he offered quickly, hating the idea of letting Rose out of his sight for even an hour.
ROSE PRACTICALLY RAN THE FOUR BLOCKS back to the spa. Or she would have, if everybody and their dog hadn't approached Jack to say hello, or tell him how great his food was, or how they couldn't wait for his cooking show to debut, or was he going to be signing his new cookbook at the farmer's market on Sunday?
On the one hand, she felt incredibly proud to be the woman next to Jack. On the other hand, she knew everyone was thinking, What is Jack Gerard doing with that oversized fashion victim?
To Jack's credit, he proudly introduced her to everyone and didn't seem the least bit embarrassed to be seen with her. It was too bad loving Jack could only lead to heartbreak. Because he was the most incredibly lovable man she'd ever met.
Whatever he was feeling was nothing more than great sex.
It would have been so easy, so wonderful to go along with him, but it wouldn't have been fair. Not to Jack. And not to herself. Because once the lust wore off and he woke up next to her thinking "What is she doing here?" the hurt would be unbearable. She needed to get away from Jack, go back to the hotel, convince her friends to take her home.
Too bad she already knew that San Francisco wasn't her home anymore. Jack's linoleum floors, soft cotton sheets, and wide front porch were home.
She ran through the vines, her tears blinding her as she pushed on to his front door, through his kitchen, wanting to get her dress and heels and leave.
But she'd forgotten about the bread.
The unmade loaf sat in the window, illuminated by the sun.
While they'd been making love in his pool, the honey bread had been rising.
She couldn't leave. She wasn't strong enough to fight against
the one thing she'd been searching for her whole life.
Love.
She heard his footsteps behind her. She knew what he'd say. "You're special, Rose." Her heart flip-flopped within her chest.
''I'll keep telling you until you believe me."
Still looking at the risen dough, she didn't turn around.
His voice was closer now. "I'll keep showing you until you can't deny it anymore. Ever again." His words were rough, full of emotion.
She didn't go to him. She couldn't, not with her fear so plain on her face. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she walked to the windowsill and picked up the bowl of dough.
"I believe you;' she said quietly, even though she didn't. Even though she couldn't.
Why would this man, Jack Gerard, ever think a woman like her was special? She wasn't exciting. She wasn't famous. She wasn't glamorous. She wasn't a size four sexpot with Barbie doll br**sts and legs up to her armpits.
But since she wasn't strong enough to leave, there was no other option but to grab this time with Jack with both hands, to let herself keep falling, no matter how much it would hurt when she went back to her empty life on Sunday evening.
Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile to her lips. It was a small one, but it was all she could manage. She turned around, grateful for the heavy weight of the bowl, because it kept her shaking hands from betraying her shaky heart.
"Let's bake bread' was her peace offering. Thankfully, he took it. In silence, they gently deflated the dough and turned it out onto a floured board. Dividing it into two equal portions, Tack showed her how to form the dough into round loaves, which they placed on parchment-lined baking sheets.
"The dough will rise again for thirty minutes, and then we bake it:'
Rose nodded, and because his face looked so serious, too serious, she leaned over and kissed him. "How about a quick shower?"
His grin put the sunlight to shame as it effortlessly lit up the room. Grabbing his hand, Rose got ready to make the most of her remaining time in heaven.
JACK DIDN'T REGRET WHAT HE'D SAID. He didn't regret anything he'd done. But still, he wondered what was going on behind Rose's deep blue eyes. He'd seen the shock, the disbelief, and something else he hadn't been able to name in the pool. She'd run from him and he'd wanted to chase after her, to hold her tightly against him. But he'd understood that at that moment, flight had been her only option. And then again in the kitchen, when she'd been standing in front of the window, he'd felt her loneliness and he'd wanted to knead it out of her. But it hadn't been what she'd needed, so he'd reined in his need to try and make everything better.
Finally she'd turned to him, smiling, and he'd wanted nothing more than to tell her all the reasons why she was the woman he'd been looking for his whole life.
Instead he'd let her take him into the shower, let her mouth tease and taste him everywhere, let her soap him up, until he'd been gripping the walls, coming into her mouth. Then he'd shown her that he was as good a student as she, drinking in her passionate responses to his touching, his kisses, his fingers as they'd stroked inside her.
After he dried her off with a fluffy, sage green towel, she wrapped it tightly around her and stood in the middle of his bedroom.
"I really don't want to put that dress back on:'
"It's fine with me if you want to do the rest of your lessons in the nude' he said, deliberately misunderstanding her.
She let go of the towel with one hand to playfully smack his chest. "You know that's not what I mean. I've got to go back to the hotel to change." The towel slipped down just enough that he could almost see the tip of her nipple.
"Smack me again' he said, pressing a gentle kiss to her mouth, hoping she'd drop the towel. But she was a woman on a mission, and she pulled it up higher. "Clothes;' she said, breathlessly. "I need clothes."
"No, you don't. I like you naked best' he said, but he knew when he was beat, so he headed for the dresser in the guest room and pulled out another sundress.
Rose looked at the brown-and-purple frock and groaned.
"This is the best you can do?"
"I never said my sister had good taste in fashion, did I?"
"No;' she muttered as she dropped the towel, "you certainly didn't. Although I can't help but wonder if you're using this horrible dress to try to convince me to stay nude."
Before he could shout "Please' she slipped the ugly dress over her shoulders, hiding her luscious curves from view.
She turned and looked at herself in the mirror. And grimaced.
"Oh, God, I look hideous. There isn't an underground tunnel I can take to get back to the hotel, is there?" Jack still thought she looked amazing, unflattering sack of a dress or not.
"Clothing aside;' she continued, "I've got to head back to the hotel to change and find my friends to let them know that I haven't been killed by an axe murderer. Should I meet you later?"
"I'll go with you' he offered quickly, hating the idea of letting Rose out of his sight for even an hour.
ROSE PRACTICALLY RAN THE FOUR BLOCKS back to the spa. Or she would have, if everybody and their dog hadn't approached Jack to say hello, or tell him how great his food was, or how they couldn't wait for his cooking show to debut, or was he going to be signing his new cookbook at the farmer's market on Sunday?
On the one hand, she felt incredibly proud to be the woman next to Jack. On the other hand, she knew everyone was thinking, What is Jack Gerard doing with that oversized fashion victim?
To Jack's credit, he proudly introduced her to everyone and didn't seem the least bit embarrassed to be seen with her. It was too bad loving Jack could only lead to heartbreak. Because he was the most incredibly lovable man she'd ever met.
