The counseling suite was eerily quiet when Amanda entered Friday morning. She was running a little late, so there should have been the usual blitz of word processors and the din of counselors chatting over coffee. When she spotted Tom Mannerly at her door, the hair on the back of her neck prickled. Shivering, she tried to calm the churning in her stomach. The other counselors were here and looked at her somberly. A secretary was wiping her eyes.
When Amanda reached the vice principal, she asked immediately, “What happened?” Mannerly put his arm out to touch her shoulder and she stiffened. “Tom, what is it? Tell me.”
“Leronne Marshall’s dead, Amanda. We just got word this morning.”
Amanda’s knees buckled and she grasped the edge of a desk. Tears welled in her eyes but she forced them back. Though she knew the answer, by God she knew it only too well, she asked, “How did he do it?”
“Amanda, look, come inside and sit down. You don’t—”
“How, Tom?”
The vice principal rubbed his jaw with his hand. “Same as last time. Razor blades.”
An image of Ron’s scarred wrists floated before her eyes. God, we just didn’t give him enough.
Numbly she allowed Tom to lead her into her office. They turned when a secretary brought in some water. “Oh, Amanda, we’re all so sorry. Is there anything any of us can do?” the woman asked.
Shaking her head, Amanda leaned against the desk. “No, there’s nothing anyone can do. It’s too late.” Just like Lisa.
“I won’t let you blame yourself, Amanda.” The vice principal’s tone was firm but gentle. “You did everything in your power to reach him. For the last six months and this past week.”
But it wasn’t enough.
Amanda took a deep breath and forced herself to abandon the self-pity. It would drag her down like an undertow and she had to stay afloat for the long day ahead of her. The other kids needed her.
She straightened and removed her coat. “There’s a lot to do.” Addressing the secretary who had remained, she gave directions. “Have Heather DiMarco, Matt Barone and Sandi Berrios met at homeroom and brought directly here.” She turned to the vice principal. “Tom, there needs to be an announcement, nothing that would glamorize the suicide, but some kind of acknowledgment of Ron’s death.” She heard her voice crack, but continued. “Let the other counselors know we should all assemble in the conference room as soon as possible. We’ll have support groups running all day for kids who need to talk.”
“Are you sure you’re up to this?” he asked.
The glimmer of admiration in Mannerly’s eyes bolstered her courage. “I have to be. It’s our procedure when a student dies, right?”
The vice principal gently squeezed her shoulder. “You’re quite a woman.”
The commotion in the outer office distracted them both. Amanda heard her name and went to investigate.
Inside the suite stood Ron Marshall’s father. Shoulders hunched, he looked smaller than he had in the dim doorway of his apartment. His eyes were red-rimmed again but not from drinking. In his shaking hands, he held a white slip of paper. When he spotted Amanda across the room, he held it out to her. “It’s...for you. I...didn’t read it. I’m...” He couldn’t finish. Silent, savage tears leaked from his eyes.
Amanda crossed to him. Taking his arm, she led him into her office. Handing Marshall some water, she spoke soft phrases to him. “No one’s fault...he was a troubled boy...he’s at peace now.”
After a grueling fifteen minutes, Ron’s father left, apologizing to Amanda for his former treatment of her.
She gripped the note, staring at it, wishing it away, wishing it would ease some of the insidious blame she felt eating away at her insides. Taking a deep breath, she opened it. The letters squirmed like snakes as she read:
This is for all the group. You ain’t to blame. You kept me alive six months longer. I gotta stop the pain.
Leronne.
The words were cold comfort. She’d read a similar message nearly two years ago, written in Lisa’s scrawl. Mandy, it’s not your fault. I would never have survived these last few years without you. Please, you’re not to blame.
Switching off her internal pain, Amanda’s mind raced to the group. They would take this hard, especially Matt, when he saw the signature. But she had no time to consider a course of action because the three teenagers had been brought and were in her doorway.
Matt braved the first words. “Somebody die around here?” He was joking. And he wasn’t.
Amanda didn’t answer then, but ushered them in and had them seated before she spoke. “Yes, someone did die.”
Sandi caught on right away. She pounded her fists on her knees. “It’s got to be Ron. He offed himself, didn’t he?”
Heather began to cry and Matt put his arm around her. “Did he, Ms. C.?” Matt’s voice was ragged.
“Yes, he did.”
“When?”
“Last night.”
“How?” Sandi asked.
Amanda tried to hedge on the details. “Listen, maybe we should—”
“I said how?” the girl shouted.
“With razor blades.”
“Just like the last time,” Heather whispered.
Jerking away from Heather, Matt stood up and let out a string of obscenities. Then he buried his face in his hands.
Sandi hung her head and cried wrenchingly.
Amanda wanted to cry with them, but she knew in her heart that if she lost control, these kids wouldn’t be able to cope. “It’s not our fault,” she said with more conviction than she really felt. “We helped him as much as we could.”
Gulping back her tears, Sandi looked at Amanda. “He leave a note?”
Amanda unfolded the paper clutched in her hand and gave it to Sandi. They passed it around, each reading the death message. When Matt finished, he crumpled it and began to pace back and forth in the small space like a caged animal. Then he raised his hand and punched right through the drywall. Heather choked back a scream and Sandi yelped.
Amanda knew the signature had affected Matt. Crossing to the teenager, she grabbed his shoulders from behind. “Matt, listen, that name became a sign of affection after a while. He liked when you teased him with it.”
“Sure.”
“Why do you think he gave you his watch?”
Matt turned to her with too-bright eyes. “You think so?”
She willed every ounce of sincerity she felt into her voice. “You can bet on it.” After a pause, she faced the girls, too. “Listen, all of you. Ron wasn’t strong enough to survive his bad feelings. That doesn’t mean it’s our fault. Or that you can’t survive yours. It just means Ron could not. Do you understand?”
When no one spoke, she went to Heather. She tipped the girl’s chin up. “Heather, it’s him, not you. Get it?”
The girl nodded.
“Sandi?” Amanda asked, taking her hand.
“Yo. I hear ya.”
And now the toughest nut to crack. “Matt?” She walked over and grasped his upper arm again. “Matt? Tell me you believe me.”
Big, masculine shoulders slumped. Then, he whispered, “I believe you, Teach.”
After ten minutes, all three teenagers decided they would go to class and participate in their normal activities, promising to come to the library conference room if they needed to talk during the day. Amanda made a mental note to check on them in a couple of hours. They left, agreeing to return for an after-school counseling session.
Amanda started the phone calls as soon as the kids were gone. She got Sandi’s mother to agree to pick her daughter up right after the group when she explained the circumstances. No one was home at Matt’s and his brother couldn’t be reached at his auto shop. Damn, she thought as she put a call through to Nick’s office. He was on the line after only a moment.
“Amanda, what a pleasant surprise. I was thinking about you.” His voice was soft and sexy and she wanted to curl up in it and block out everything else.
“Nick—” She started to explain, but she broke down, unable to continue.
“Honey, what is it?”
“It’s...it’s...Ron Marshall committed suicide last night. He slashed his wrists.”
“Oh my God, no.”
Amanda heard real fear in his voice. She gripped the receiver tighter. “Nick, it doesn’t mean that Heather is going to do anything like this. She’s getting better, at least I think she is...”
“Yes, I know that. How did she react to the news?”
“She took it hard. All the kids in my group did.”
“I’ll bet. Should I come and get her?”
Running a shaky hand through her hair, Amanda thought for a second. “No, I don’t think so. She says she wants to stay here. We’ll be running support groups today for anyone who needs to talk.”
“All right, if you’re sure. Call me if anything changes.”
“I will.” She knew her voice was tremulous and tried to quell the quiver.
“What about you? I’m concerned about you, too, sweetheart.”
His solicitousness brought the shakiness back. “Oh, Nick, I’m not sure I can handle this.”
“Yes, Amanda, you can. You’re a strong woman.” He was confident and it came as solid support through the phone lines.
“Am I?” She watched her hand tremble in her lap.
“You are. You divorced an insensitive man because he couldn’t give you what you needed. You stood up to your father and waited thirty-six hours in the airport to follow through with your decision. And, much as I hate it, you never back down on one single thing with me.” He ended with a snort that almost made her smile.
“Thanks.” After a pause, she said, “I have to go, it’s almost time for the first class. The reason I called was to say you need to arrange to be with Heather tonight, as soon after school as you can.”
“Of course. I’ll pick her up at three.”
“Make it three-thirty. There’s a general counseling session at the end of the day that she should attend.”
“Fine. Do me a favor. When you see Heather, give her my love and tell her I’m thinking about her.”
In spite of her sadness, Amanda felt an arrow of admiration shoot through her. “I’ll make a point of it.”
“You go now, honey.” Nick’s voice was low and sincere. “I have all the faith in the world that you can help the kids through this.”
Those words sustained Amanda through the horror of the day. More students than they expected showed up each class period and several teachers came down to the library, too.
Amanda glanced up at the clock when there was finally a break in the flow. She hadn’t even stopped for lunch. Two-thirty. Massaging her constricted neck muscles, she thought, Just one more hour left. You can do it.
Her determination faltered when she saw Nick standing in the doorway. He looked so big and unbreakable and she wanted to fling herself into his arms. Instead, she remained composed and walked calmly toward him.
When she reached him, he touched her cheek and caressed it gently. “You all right?” When she nodded, he added, “That’s my girl.”
She smiled weakly. “You’re early.”
“No, I’m not.”
Taking her elbow again, he steered her to a corner. “How did it go?”
Closing her eyes, she rubbed the lids. “It was tough.”
“Have you seen Heather?”
“Yes, she came down at lunch. She’s sad, and confused, but she’s hanging in there.” Amanda looked up into Nick’s eyes. “She’s got a lot of you in her.”
Nick smiled and squeezed her arm.
At the bell, several students filed in. Nick watched Amanda and wondered if her slender shoulders could tolerate any more today. She looked as if she was ready to collapse. He was worried about her, though he understood her need to see this through to the end.
When she pushed herself away from the wall and began to move toward them, then halted abruptly, his concern escalated. He followed her gaze to a tall man who had just appeared and started in her direction. Jack Thornton! Nick knew how the principal had sloughed off Amanda’s comments about Ron earlier in the week. When Thornton reached Amanda, she stood erect and crossed her arms over her chest.
At close range, Nick could see the grim line of the principal’s mouth and the skin pulled tightly across his cheekbones. He was clearly suffering. Good.
Thornton lifted his hands, palms up, in a gesture indicating helplessness. “Amanda, I don’t know what to say.”
Nick watched anger, regret and finally compassion cross Amanda’s face. He knew from the way she smiled sadly that she was going to comfort the guy, but he was still stunned when she reached out and took Thornton’s hands. “We all let him down, Jack.”
Thornton’s eyes widened in surprise. “No, that’s not true. But thanks for saying it.” His voice was ragged. “I’m so sorry.”
“So am I.”
Had he once called this woman superficial? Selfish? My God, he’d never seen a deeper, more humane response.
When the counseling session started, Nick stood in the back and watched Amanda field questions and offer suggestions to help the kids cope. All the while, her eyes looked so sad, it broke his heart. And he could do nothing for her.
He could, however, help the slight blond child who catapulted herself into his arms the minute the meeting ended. “Oh, Daddy, I’m so glad you came. Isn’t it awful?”
Hugging his living, breathing child, he closed his eyes to keep back the moisture. “Yes, it’s awful, sweetie. But I’m here now.”
Amanda was a few feet away talking with an older woman and her daughter. The teenage boy from the knife fight was with them and the three left together. Then, she joined Nick and his daughter.
“Is that Sandi’s mom?” Heather asked.
“Yes. They’ve invited Matt to come home with them for the evening. You all need to be with someone.”
Heather’s forehead furrowed in concern and she reached out to touch Amanda’s sleeve. “What about you, Ms. Carson?”
Amanda linked her hands in front of her. “I’m fine, honey. You go on with your dad.”
“Come with us?” he offered. But he knew what she was going to say before she got it out.
“No, not tonight. You and Heather need to be alone.” Staring into his gray eyes with glassy blue ones, she sighed. “She needs your undivided attention, Nick. I’d interfere with that.”
He got the message. His daughter was in pain and she came first. He wanted to hold and protect Heather forever. But he also wanted to comfort this brave, hurting woman.
Before he could say any more, Heather turned and wrapped her slender arms around Amanda’s waist. “Thank you, Ms. Carson. No one could have got through today without you.”
Shutting her eyes, Amanda held on to the human warmth she obviously needed.
Damn, what can I do? Nick thought.
In the end, he had no choice but to leave Amanda standing by herself in the emptying library. She’d helped the kids all day and now she would have to confront her own demons alone. It just wasn’t fair.
Which was why, thirty minutes later, he found himself dialing an unfamiliar phone number on his cell phone.
A voice very similar to Amanda’s answered, “Hello.”
“Mrs. Carson?”
“Yes?”
“You don’t know me, but I’m a friend of your daughter’s. My name is Nick DiMarco.”
“Why, yes, Mr. DiMarco, I’ve heard your name.”
A little surprised, he said, “I’m calling to tell you that your daughter needs you right now.”
“Has something happened to her?” There was a trace of panic in Joan’s voice.
“No, no. I didn’t mean to alarm you. Amanda’s fine. Physically, anyway. But there’s been a tragedy at the school and I can’t be with her at the moment. I’m afraid she’s alone now and she shouldn’t be. She’s spoken a lot of your recent...your closeness and I thought you could go to her since I can’t.”
“Of course,” Joan answered automatically. “Tell me, though. What kind of tragedy?”
Nick blew out an exasperated breath. “A student of Amanda’s committed suicide last night.”
“Oh my God, no.”
“She’s taking it pretty hard.”
“You have no idea how hard this will be for her, Nick. I’ll hang up now and get right over there.”
The hairs on the back of his neck tingled and he felt his stomach lurch the way it used to just as he got tackled on the football field. “Mrs. Carson, what don’t I know?”
There was a slight pause on the other end. Then, Joan answered softly, “Amanda’s sister, Lisa, committed suicide two years ago next month.”
o0o
Amanda let her mother baby her as she hadn’t done in years. When Joan arrived at her doorstep at five o’clock that afternoon, Amanda finally let loose the tears that had threatened all day. After they settled into the porch, a fire burning in the corner, hot cider in their hands, Amanda poured out the entire story. Joan cried for both her daughters, and so did Amanda.
The catharsis helped them. After a while, her mother cooked a light supper of omelets and croissants with a glass of Chardonnay each. Still sad, though not as despairing now, Amanda tensed at ten o’clock when the doorbell rang.
“Oh, Mother, it must be someone from school checking on me. I don’t want to talk to anyone now. Could you tell them I’ve gone to bed?”
Joan patted her hand as she rose. “Don’t worry, dear, I’ll take care of it.”
She returned in a moment with Nick. Amanda was so surprised to see him that tears misted her eyes again. She was off the couch and in his arms in a flash. He held her tightly against him and she felt safer and warmer than she had in a very long time.
“It’s so good to see you,” she whispered into his chest.
“You, too. I’ve been worried about you all night.”
As if that reminded her of both her mother and Heather, Amanda pulled back. “Nick, you should be with your daughter. I’m okay, really.”
He smiled and brushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes. “Heather’s in bed fast asleep and Beth is staying overnight. I want to be with you now, Amanda.”
She stared at him a moment, then turned to Joan. “Mother, this is—”
Stepping forward, Joan smiled. “Yes, I know who this is. He and I had an interesting conversation earlier today.”
Amanda looked at them and realization struck. She peered into her mother’s face. “I wondered how you just happened by.”
As she pulled on her leather coat, Joan smiled. “I’ll let you two sort this out. I’m leaving now.” Facing her daughter, her expression became somber. “Remember all we talked about tonight, young lady.” Her mother kissed her and was gone.
Amanda barely had time to say goodbye before she found herself in Nick’s arms once more. Then, separating only long enough to shed his bomber jacket, he led her to the couch. He settled them on the nubby fabric, pulled her to him and held her next to his heart. Amanda cuddled into him.
“How’s Heather?” she asked. “Tell me what you’ve been doing the last few hours.”
Nick rubbed her back as he talked. “She was calm when she went to bed, but she cried a lot before that. She’s sad, and mad, too, I think.”
“That’s a common reaction.”
“We talked for the first hour or so, but then we managed to eat a little supper and play a bit with Jason. I stayed in her room until she fell asleep. I think that meant the most to her.”
Amanda looked up at him “It would. Trying to fall asleep after something like this is the scariest part.”
Nick smoothed a hand down her jaw. “What about you? How are you holding up?”
With those few words of compassion, Amanda began to cry again. Nick pulled her tighter and stroked her hair, crooning phrases of comfort. When the fresh bout of tears passed, he handed her his handkerchief and she pulled away to blow her nose. All defenses down now, she muttered, “Oh, great, I spend all these months making sure I look good every time I see you and now you catch me with a puffy eyes and blotches on my face.”
He reached out and ran his fingertips over her mottled skin. “You’re a beautiful woman, Amanda Carson, inside and out.”
When she shook her head, he wouldn’t allow her denial. “Yes. You helped a bunch of troubled teenagers get through the day. I heard about it, blow by blow, from Heather. You took care of the kids in your group and you didn’t even berate Jack Thornton, though I wanted to punch his lights out. I’ll bet you stayed and talked to other teachers, too, didn’t you?”
She nodded.
He reached for her. “Come here, babe, it’s my turn to take care of you.”
Amanda settled back into him, feeling the softness of his knit green shirt against her face. “What made you call my mother, Nick?”
“I was so worried about you and so frustrated I had to leave you. It goes without saying that I wanted to be with Heather tonight. I’d give my life for her.” His voice was soft as he told her of his quandary. “But it killed me to walk out of there and leave you alone to deal with this.”
His hand moved rhythmically on her arm and his voice lulled her. “You’d talked about your mother’s new interest in your job, her recent approval. So I called her.”
Burying her face in his chest, Amanda inhaled the male scent of him. “Thank you.”
“Did it help?”
Silent for several seconds, Amanda’s voice was strained when she spoke again. “Yes, it did. For a lot of reasons. Nick, there’s something you don’t know about my family.”
“Then tell me.”
Suddenly, it all came flooding back. The shock. The horror. The unrelenting sadness. Amanda clutched a handful of Nick’s shirt. “My sister, Lisa, she...she was very unhappy at the end of her life. I don’t know how much you know about spina bifida.”
“Some. I did a lot of research on birth defects when Jason was born.”
“His condition isn’t congenital, is it?”
“No, it’s multifactorial. It had many contributing causes. But spina bifida is congenital, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Lisa was born with an opening in the spinal column. They operated immediately, but even the best doctors couldn’t stop the paralysis. Luckily, she had pretty good control over her bowel and bladder. Not all victims do.”
He tugged her closer. “Something to be thankful for.”
“Anyway, the symptoms stayed pretty much the same until she was about twenty-five. Then she developed ulcers.”
“Is that common?”
“Initially it is. It’s unusual for it to happen so late. She got progressively sicker, in more and more pain. Eventually, she just couldn’t handle it anymore. She took her own life, Nick, two years ago March fifteenth.”
Amanda began to cry softly. Nick held on to her, his own eyes moist.
She mumbled the rest into his broad, comforting chest. “I should have known what was going on. I should have seen the signs, loss of appetite, bouts of crying, giving away precious possessions. But I was so unhappy with Porter and my own life that I wasn’t there for her.”
Patiently he let her cry some more, then turned her to face him. “Amanda, hindsight is always twenty-twenty. Of course there are things you could have done. But ultimately, that doesn’t make you responsible for your sister’s suicide. She took her own life. She wasn’t strong enough to survive her pain, like you told the kids today about Ron. Hell, I don’t know if I’d have been strong enough to survive her pain. But there was certainly nothing you could do to stop her desperate actions. Not hers. Not Ron’s. You can help people, but you can’t live their lives for them. And you don’t end them, either.”
His words brought more tears, but this time they were cleansing, healing ones. On a professional level, she knew he was right. But on a personal one, it was hard to accept that there was only so much you could do for someone else.
Finally, she relaxed back into Nick’s embrace. She dozed, then felt herself being lifted, cradled in strong arms and carried to her room. She’d slipped into lounging pajamas earlier, so he laid her on the bed as she was, covering her with a huge, downy quilt. She heard his shoes hit the floor and felt him sink into the mattress. He gathered her into his arms and held her tenderly. “Sleep, sweetheart, it’s the best medicine right now.”
“Don’t leave me,” she murmured.
“Never.”
o0o
Amanda woke twice during the night, once in a sweat, crying for her sister. The second time, she called for Ron. Both times, Nick was there to hold her and soothe her fears.
At dawn, she was wide-awake as he eased from the bed. “I have to go, honey. I want to be there when Heather wakes up. Will you be okay?”
“Yes,” she assured him, though she didn’t want him to leave. What she wanted more than anything else in the world was to make love with him. In her professional mind, she knew it was a common reaction to the aftermath of death, to affirm life in so elemental a way. But she knew in her woman’s heart that it was also a deep craving for the man himself.
o0o
Nick spent the next day with his daughter and it felt good to be able to console her. But he worried about Amanda. He phoned her twice, once when Tammy called and asked Heather to stay overnight. Nick was surprised Heather wanted to go, and contacted Amanda for her opinion.
Amanda thought it was a good sign, and pretty normal, that Heather wanted to distract herself from Ron’s death. After talking to Heather herself about how she was feeling, Amanda advised Nick to let his daughter find solace with her friend.
When his father phoned at four, Nick mentioned that Heather was gone for the night. Ever astute, Ange DiMarco asked if his only son might like a free evening and Nick jumped at the chance. He showered quickly and dressed. Then he packed up Jason, dropped him off at his parents’ house and was at Amanda’s by six. He hoped to surprise her with both his presence and his freedom for the night, but he was the one in for the unexpected.
She answered the door wearing a lightweight turquoise running suit that made her eyes the color of the sea. Her hair was tied back into a ponytail and she wore no makeup.
“You look about eighteen,” he said just before he grabbed her and kissed her soundly on the mouth. She hesitated, pulling out of his arms, something she’d never done before.
Nick held her loosely and frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“I have company. Come on in.” When he scowled, she whispered, “Don’t be cross.”
He found Tom Mannerly sprawled on her sofa drinking his beer. Jesus.
“Nick, you know Tom Mannerly from the high school. He just stopped over to see if I was all right.”
Remembering the night before, Nick was ashamed of his jealousy. He turned to Amanda and touched her cheek in a proprietary way even a monkey wouldn’t misinterpret. “Are you?”
The vice-principal didn’t miss the innuendo. He coughed uncomfortably, stood up and reached for the ski jacket he’d thrown over the chair. “I’ll be going now, Amanda. I see you’re well taken care of.”
Amanda stepped to the side of Nick. “Thanks for coming, Tom. It was sweet of you to be so concerned.”
As Mannerly walked by her, he touched her arm. “I...we all care about you. You’re a valued member of our staff.”
Nick stared at the other man’s hand, trying to keep his reaction in check. God, DiMarco, she’s had a hell of a time. The poor sap came to see if she was all right. But despite his admonition to himself, he eased his arm around her shoulders and the gesture spoke volumes.
After Tom left, Amanda looked at him quizzically. “What was that all about?”
“Territorial rights,” Nick said, only half joking, and pulled her back to his chest, his eyes glowing with sexual intensity. “And I just established mine loud and clear.”
Staring at him for a moment, she giggled and hugged him. “I shouldn’t like it, but I do.”
“Good.” He held her close for a minute. “Guess what?”
“What?”
“Heather did stay overnight at her friend’s house.”
“I think sometimes kids can help each other more than we can help them.”
Nick nodded. His gaze was darkly sensual as he added, “And my dad has Jason.”
“For the whole night?”
“Uh-huh.”
Peering into his stormy eyes with promise in hers, she whispered, “Then take me to bed, Nick.”
His arms tightened around her. “God, I thought you’d never ask.”
Gently, Nick scooped her up into his embrace and found his way to her bedroom once more. He’d been so concerned about her last night, he hadn’t noticed the interior.
Soft. Everything in the room was soft. Pale pink walls, mauve covers, shimmery silver blinds. The space smelled the way she did, a mixture of her lotions, shampoo and perfume. It was a large room containing an oak bed with a rounded headboard of slatted spindles, two low dressers and chairs and a large vanity. The bathroom opened off it and was decorated with the same motif. One muted paper light was switched on in the corner.
“Like it?” she asked as she watched him study the decor.
He set her down on her feet and growled into her hair. “Not as much as I like you.”
He kissed her thoroughly then and she leaned into him. Feeling a slight tension in her reminded him of her past experiences with lovemaking. Slowly, he stroked her back, a sudden inspiration coming to him. He eased his hands under her sweatshirt and rubbed her warm bare skin. “Did you hear the joke about the madam who ran the house of ill repute?”
Eyes wide, Amanda’s jaw dropped.
“I take it that’s a no,” he said with a chuckle. “The women who serviced the brothel were all professionals during the daytime and were grouped by floors at night. After a few months, the madam noticed that every time a man returned for another visit, he’d ask for the third floor.”
Placing his hands on the hem of her top, Nick pulled it over her head. “The madam couldn’t understand it,” he continued, kissing the exposed tops of her breasts underneath the bra. It was pale peach and she filled it to capacity. His voice sounded hoarse to his own ears as he went on. “Because on the third floor were the plain, ordinary schoolteachers.”
He nuzzled her cleavage and then his mouth trailed the silk to her nipple. He bit it gently. “That night, she decided to eavesdrop on each floor to determine why these men preferred the plain, ordinary schoolteachers.” Nick deftly unclasped her bra and began to knead her breasts. “On the first floor, where all the gorgeous models were, the madam heard, ‘No, don’t do that, you’re going to mess my makeup.’”
Amanda giggled and groaned consecutively.
Sliding his hands beneath the waistband of her pants, he caressed her bottom. “On the second floor, where all the businesswomen were, she heard, ‘Okay, let’s get this over quickly so we can get on to the next thing.’”
Amanda chuckled but it soon turned into a whimper as he eased his hand around front and cupped her. “Then she listened into the third floor where the plain, ordinary schoolteachers were.”
Pushing her sweats down, he knelt to pull them off. When he rose, she stood before him gloriously naked. “And what the madam heard one of the teachers say to the customer was, ‘Okay, if we don’t get it right this time, we’ll do it over and over until we do get it right.’”
Amanda laughed as he caught her into his arms. He could feel her skin against his clothes and it made him painfully hard. Pulling back from her slightly, he brushed the mane from her face. Her eyes were dilated with arousal and her cheeks were flushed. “It’s more than a joke, babe.”
“I don’t understand.”
“That’s right, you don’t understand. If we don’t get it right this time, we just keep trying, too. There’s no pressure on you. Just enjoy what we’re going to do together.”
Amanda could have wept at his sensitivity. How had he known that humor was the perfect way to ease her reservations?
She watched him step back from her and pull his sweater over his head. It disheveled his hair appealingly and made her long to run her hands through the thick, coarse mass. When he went to unbutton his striped shirt, her eyes flew to his fingers. Noting her stare, he took her hands in his and brought them to his chest. “Do you want to do it?”
She nodded.
“Honey, do anything you want to me. Anything that feels good to you, on your body, will feel as good to me.”
Encouraged, she released each button of his shirt. Tilting her head, she kissed the exposed skin and felt the hair tickle her nose. She breathed in his cologne. “You smell so good.”
His chest jerked at her words. She smiled against his skin. Lord, she wanted this.
Continuing her delightful discovery of his body, she ran her hands down his back and felt him shiver. His response made her brave and she slid her palms to his buttocks. The muscles there went taut and she massaged them gently. He moaned, his fingers flying to his belt. She liked knowing he was in a hurry. Batting them away, she took her time removing it.
“Tease,” he mumbled.
She wanted to whoop. Me, a tease? Oh, God, thank you.
But she found herself on her back for her taunt. The full weight of him on her was exciting.
“Too heavy?”
“No, never.”
“Feel good?”
“Unbelievable.”
He thrust his hips forward and he throbbed against her belly. “Believe it.”
Then, he rained kisses all over her neck and chest, stopping to caress one beaded nipple with his tongue. “You like that, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
He continued this for a moment, then went lower and licked her abdomen. He felt her start.
“What is it?”
She whimpered as he kissed the tiny indentation there. When his mouth went lower to nuzzle her curls, she all but arched off the bed. He stopped, as if trying to decide how far to go. She was entranced at the strange sensations caused by his mouth and was disappointed when he drew himself up. Peering into her eyes, he asked, “Too new? Too much?”
“New, but not too much. I just feel so innocent with you.”
Bending over her, braced on his forearms, he stared at her. “Yeah, well, you don’t look innocent.”
She grinned. “How do I look?”
“Absolutely beautiful.” He nuzzled her neck. “And sexy as hell.”
“So are you. I’ve wanted to do this, too, for a long time.” Her hands glided up his chest again.
He closed his eyes at the feel of her caress. “Do what?”
She drew designs in his chest hair. “Tell you how attractive you are. How I love looking at you. I’ve never told a man that before.”
Opening his eyes, he smiled. “Feel free to say anything you want to me, especially that.”
Slowly she eased up on her elbows. “In that case, you’re gorgeous and sexy. Too sexy.”
His laugh was low and he nudged her down with his nose. “There’s no such thing as too sexy. Just like there’s no such thing as too rich.”
Before she could react to his reminder of their differences, he took her mouth. His tongue explored every crevice, then went back for more. Sinking onto the mattress, he pulled her over him. He caressed her bottom with long, smooth strokes.
On top of him now, she took advantage of the position, bent her head and kissed his chest again. He tensed when her tongue flicked a male peak. She traveled down and kissed his stomach, as he had kissed hers. He moaned and clutched the sheets. When her mouth neared his groin, he reached up and grabbed the headboard. Her fingers closed around his penis and he arched his back. She ran her palm up and down twice and agonized sounds escaped from his clenched teeth.
“Hurt?”
“I’m in pain.”
“Too much?”
“Never.”
“Want me to stop?”
“Don’t you dare.”
She didn’t. Until his moans strung together into one long groan. Suddenly, she was flipped on her back and he hovered over her. “Don’t you ever, ever tell me again that you can’t arouse a man. I’m near to dying from your touch.”
Her smile was as old as Eve’s. He kissed it off her face and ground his body into hers. She knew he was near the end of his restraint and she gloried in it.
Reaching for his jeans, he fumbled with his wallet. He yanked out a foil packet, tore it open and had the condom on in seconds. He kneed her legs apart and spoke softly. “Look at me, love.” When she did, he entered her slowly. She was slippery and very, very wet. He inched his way in and she wanted to raise her hips to hurry him, but he held them firmly to the bed. “You’re mine,” he whispered just as the length of him reached her womb. She felt full and feminine and she was moved to tears. But when he began to thrust, she lost all conscious thought. Soon—too soon—the exquisite oneness gave way to shattering pleasure that kept coming and coming. The world continued to explode around her as he pushed in longer and harder strokes. She cried out several times, his name, endearments, prayers, dimly aware of similar cries from him when his climax finally broke through. It lasted almost as long as hers before he settled down on her sated body and buried his face in her neck.
When he could finally move again, Nick eased off her. He’d never felt pleasure like this before, and it was more than satisfying to know he’d given her what no man had. But the connection he felt with Amanda was his dominant emotion.
And it scared him to death. How had he risked his heart on this woman? No, how had he lost it to her?
“What is it?” She propped herself up on her elbows.
He forced himself to shake off his reservations and opted for teasing. “You wrung me out, lady. And I’m not sure I like my loss of control.”
“I did?”
“Yeah. And I have the skid marks to prove it.”
She blushed prettily.
“Don’t you dare go coy on me. Not after what you just did to me. After what I just did to you. After what I’m going to do to you again.” Turning her over to her stomach, he straddled her. “I’ve got lots more to teach you tonight,” he whispered in her ear before he began tracing her spine with his tongue. “And no doubt, lots more to learn from my little Lolita-in-disguise.”
The flattery was real, but the teasing was meant to distract her. And him. He’d deal with the reality of how hard and fast he’d fallen for her tomorrow.