Believe in Me: A Rosewood Novel (36 page)

“It was wonderful, Owen. Thank you.”

Something flipped and then flopped inside him at her simple pronouncement.

“Thank
you
,” he returned huskily. Then, reminding himself to avoid any heavy emotions, he flashed her a grin. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Laughter burst from her. “I should say not!” With another laugh, she pushed at his chest, tipping him backward. As he fell, he grabbed her wrist so that she came, too, landing on him with a laughing
oomph
.

A quick roll reversed their positions. With a smile he settled over her. “Now I’ve got you right where I want you.”

“And what are you going to do about it?” she asked.

“Actually, I was thinking we could play a little game.”

He heard surprise mixed with a trace of wariness as she asked, “And what kind of game would this be?”

“Oh, you know it already. It’s called Twister.”

Her mouth quivered while she tried and failed to suppress a smile. “You want to play Twister?”

“Very much. But we’ll have to come up with a few modifications as we don’t have that mat thing or the spinner.”

She nodded. “I can see how that might be necessary. What kind of modifications do you think we need?”

“Well, first of all, instead of feet, I think we should substitute our mouths. Hands, of course, remain.”

“Naturally.”

“And in the place of colors, we’ll probably want to use parts of the body. So, when it’s my turn to spin, I’ll have to put either my hand or mouth over your … knee, for example.”

She was silent, as if considering. “Then when it’s my turn, I have to put my hands or mouth wherever the dial says?”

“I knew you’d be a quick study,” he said with warm approval as he dropped a kiss on her nose. “So should we try a few practice moves just to get it right?”

“Maybe we’d better. This sounds awfully complicated.”

“I bet you’ll get the hang of it—if you pay close attention.” He grinned. “Why don’t I go first—only fair as I haven’t played Twister nearly as much. Oh, one other thing. We each get to spin the dial when it’s our turn to move. Though maybe the next time through, we’ll switch it up and spin for each other. That could be fun, too.”

Jordan couldn’t help noticing that Owen’s enthusiasm for Twister was as great as Max’s.

“Okay, here goes. The dial says, ‘Right hand left breast.’ ” Their eyes locked as his hand settled over her and in that moment it felt as if he held not just her breast but her beating heart. Then his fingers closed about her soft mound, squeezing it, and the sensation was warm and delicious. Her breath caught and she tried not to squirm.

“Your turn,” he whispered.

She thought for a second. To copy his move would be a mistake. Owen, though kind and generous, wasn’t interested in letting her anywhere near his well-guarded heart.

“Left hand to right buttock,” she said instead.

And that was good, too. Owen had a very fine ass. Spreading her hand over its silk-smooth curve, his gluteus tensed beneath her. Instantly her imagination jumped ahead to her next spin of the dial, and excitement pooled inside her at the thought of that part of his anatomy hardening and lengthening beneath her touch.

The low rumble of his voice momentarily interrupted her fantasy. “Mmm, this is an interesting one. The spinner says mouth to navel.”

Her lids grew heavy in anticipation. Slowly Owen lowered his dark head to her quivering stomach muscles. At the touch of his wet mouth, she moaned helplessly.

Two spins later, Jordan acknowledged that her sisters had been absolutely right: Owen had some exceptionally good moves when it came to Twister.

But then, so did she.

O
WEN HAD INSISTED
on driving her home to Rosewood, telling her that a walk back to Hawk Hill through the woods at dawn would be an excellent way for him to start the day.

“Will I see you later?” he asked as he pulled Jordan’s minivan up alongside the Range Rover, shifted into neutral, and cut the ignition.

“Oh, yes, I forgot. Travis said to tell you that a hand with the foals would be most welcome.”

“I’d be glad to help out, though at some point in the day I have to go to Alexandria and catch up on stuff at the office. But what I really meant was, will I see
you
?”

It felt nothing short of wonderful that after all the “seeing” Owen had done last night, he still appeared interested in her. “I’d like that.”

He leaned over and kissed her. “All right then. We could have an early dinner and afterward—ahh, damn, I forgot. Nonie’s invited me to a cocktail party at her house. She wants me there when she shows off the cottage to her guests.”

She squelched her disappointment. “I understand.”

“You could go to the party, too.”

The suggestion surprised a laugh out of her. “Strange as it may seem, I wasn’t invited.”

“You could come with me. As my date.”

She blinked. The lack of sleep from their marathon of lovemaking was suddenly hitting her. Her brain was only following sluggishly, if at all. “You want me to crash
Nonie’s party? Because believe me, that’s how she’d see it, even if I went as your date.”

“It’s not as if she’d have the help toss you out on your ear, not when you’re with her favorite architect, not when my firm shifted into high gear to get the interior finished in time for this blasted party of hers. You deserve a chance to see the finished look since the ideas for the cottage were ninety-nine percent yours,” he said.

It
would
be fun to see how her suggestions for the color schemes and furniture had turned out, and she was curious, too, about the bathrooms and kitchen. If there was anything that didn’t quite click visually, it would be good to know so she could avoid making the same mistake at Hawk Hill.

“All right, I’ll go,” she said. “But I warn you, in bringing me along you may be forfeiting your status as Nonie’s favorite anything.”

“Somehow I think I’ll survive,” Owen said gruffly, strangely touched that she’d bothered to voice a concern about Nonie’s reaction, especially after Jordan had been treated so shabbily by Nonie. In hindsight, he wished he’d flat out refused to have anything to do with the interior work on the guest cottage. But had another design firm accepted the commission, they would never have given Jordan any of the credit for the results, which was what he planned to do at tonight’s cocktail party, with Nonie’s guests and Jordan present.

Yes, he was pretty sure that after tonight, the only list he was going to top would be Nonie’s shit list. Hell, he might even edge out Jade, and he smiled at the thought.

He climbed out of the car and came around to Jordan’s side, holding the door open for her. “So I’ll be back in a few hours,” he said and wondered whether he’d be able to last that long. Even now, he just had to have another taste of her. Lowering his head, he gave her a kiss that, like so many of the ones they’d shared during the night, triggered a rush of arousal that had everything in him tensing with need.
With an effort, he reined in his fierce urgency and, releasing her, stepped back. “I’ll let you go.” Damned if he wanted to, though, and this definitely was not a normal reaction after a long night of making love to a woman.

“Okay.” She knew she was staring, her eyes drinking him in, but she couldn’t help herself. She wanted to commit to memory how Owen looked standing there, so deliciously and sexily rumpled. And for the moment he was hers, she thought giddily.

But she knew he wouldn’t be if she gave even a hint of how much she’d already come to care for him after a single night in his arms. Given his aversion to emotional commitment, he would doubtless interpret her confession as an attempt to box him in. As if to physically suppress the unwelcome words, she bit her lower lip.

Instantly his gaze zeroed in on her mouth. With a whispered, “Jesus, Jordan,” he hauled her back against him, and brought his mouth to hers, using his teeth where hers had been just a second ago, tugging and nibbling with a greedy hunger.

Toes curling at the pleasure unfurling inside her, she clung to him, her fingers digging into his broad shoulders, returning his kiss with a matching fervor.

His hand was at her breast, fondling her nipple through the layers of dress and bra, teasing it into an aching bud, and driving her crazy with want, when the ringing of her cell had her jumping out of his arms.

She crouched to rummage through her bag, which minutes ago had slipped to the ground, and retrieved it. Choked by a sudden rush of worry at a telephone call this early, Jordan managed a hoarse, “Hello?”

“It’s me.” Richard didn’t bother to identify himself. “Your daughter wants to speak to you. Here she is, Olivia. Here’s Mommy.”

There was a pause, then Olivia was on the line, crying and saying, “Mommy, Mommy!” over and over again, and
breaking Jordan’s heart that she couldn’t reach out and comfort her baby.

“Olivia, it’s okay, sweetheart. Tell me what’s wrong. Don’t cry, sweetheart, it’ll be all right. Olivia, do you know what? Daddy told me he was going to make your favorite breakfast today. Well, I can’t tell you if you’re crying because you won’t be able to hear. Daddy’s going to make you, Kate, and Max blueberry pancakes. And if you’re a very good girl, I bet you he’ll let you put the blueberries in the batter. I think he has another surprise, too, with lots of animals. Oh, sweetie, you’re going to have such a good day, there’s no reason to cry. Really. Can you take a deep breath? That’s my love. Now, don’t forget to tell Daddy that you’d like to read
Maisie Goes Swimming
with him because it’s your favorite. And give Daddy the phone, okay? Bye, bye, Olivia, I love you and I’ll see you tomorrow.” As she’d instructed Olivia, she drew a deep, steadying breath, and gave a start of surprise when Owen’s hand settled on her shoulder and squeezed it in silent support. She cast him a grateful, apologetic glance, but then Richard was back on the line.

“She’s been up since quarter to five and won’t—” he began, but Jordan cut him off.

“I don’t know how much of that you got, Richard, but if you could read the
Maisie
book I packed, it will help distract her. If it doesn’t, the
Sesame Street
DVD, the one with Bert and Ernie, always makes her laugh.”

“I’ll go find them.”

“Also, I hope you bought blueberries because she loves them.”

“I think Cyn picked some up.”

“Olivia’s favorite thing is to pour the blueberries into the pancake batter. Make sure you don’t give her the whole box, though. I also told her that you all would be going to the zoo.”

“Ahh.” That was the sound Richard made when he was hedging.

Well, too bad if he didn’t particularly feel like going to the National Zoo. Their young daughter was crying and Jordan knew that seeing the elephants and the pandas would put a smile on Olivia’s face, as well as Kate’s and Max’s. “It should be a perfect day for it, and Kate and Max haven’t been to the zoo since, well, it would be a really great treat for all of them.”

“Okay.” The word was accompanied by a sigh. “We’ll go before lunch.”

Some of the tension left her. “Thanks. They’ll love it.”

“Yeah.” He paused. “I probably should have thought of taking them there myself. I remember how excited Max used to get watching the meerkats. And thanks for calming Olivia down. She’s been fine, but I guess when she woke up she was disoriented. Then the tears came. I figured we should—”

“It’s fine. I’m glad you called.”

“We didn’t wake you up?”

“No, I wasn’t asleep.”

Richard gave a little laugh. “Jordan, you worry way too much.” His voice had that condescending note he’d used so often during their counseling sessions with Abby Walsh.

She half turned, her gaze seeking Owen. He’d moved a few feet away and was staring off in the direction of the barns while he waited for her to finish her conversation. Looking at him, a warm surge of affection washed over her. Last night, he’d been kind and generous and funny. Everything Richard had stopped bothering to be with her. Moreover, Owen didn’t resort to condescension to make himself feel superior.

And Owen had more sex appeal in his left pinkie than Richard had in his whole body, she thought with a smile.

“Jordan, I can tell by your silence you’re getting all uptight.”

“Actually, no, I’m not—”

“The kids have been fine with me. And they’re warming
up to Cynthia, too. Listen, I better go and dig out that book and the
Sesame Street
DVD.”

“Of course.”

“I’ll have Kate and Max call after breakfast.”

“Okay. Good-bye.”

Owen waited a second after Jordan had rung off before turning toward her. It had been weird to watch her go from lover to mother in the space of a heartbeat. One second she’d been arching into his hand with very sweet abandon. In the next, tense and distraught as she listened to Olivia cry.

He supposed it was good to have such a pointed reminder that Jordan was a woman who came with complications. Yet even as he made himself focus on all of them—the kids, the ex-husband, the sorting out of the visiting arrangement, the whole messy shebang—he had to stifle the impulse to go and wrap his arm about her waist and offer what comfort he could.