Ian got Maggie to agree to let him pick her up in his car for his 'celebration' dinner instead of driving her own car to meet them somewhere. He felt triumphant about managing this particular dicey negotiation. It meant that at six-thirty, with the kids in the backseat, he pulled into Maggie's driveway to pick her up. He couldn't have been feeling more flush.
When things started turning up roses, they really sprouted those flowers in bushels. He'd made it through a day of work. He'd corralled his kids into coming out to dinner with him. And he was now on the point of collecting the woman in his life. Indeed, she hadn't even put up a fuss about coming along.
Ian knew he was grinning as he put the car into park and turned off the motor. "You guys wait here. I'll run in and get Maggie."
"What, I don't get to pet Osiris?" Kathy peered eagerly out the car window.
"Not this time, sweetheart. Uh, we have those reservations. No time to fool around."
Thankfully, Kathy seemed to accept this explanation and kept her seat belt on. Andy just stared out the opposite car window. Other than a grunted acceptance of the dinner invitation, he hadn't said a word to Ian since he'd come home from the office.
So much for heart-to-heart talks, Ian thought fleetingly, and then he was out of the car and on the path to Maggie's front door. His mind slid onto a more pleasant track. His heart felt light in his chest, while excitement zoomed through his veins.
Oh, he knew that business about getting Maggie for a reward at the end of the day had just been pretend, but it was fun to continue the game. Besides, who knew? The lady might turn out to be willing...
The front door opened before he had a chance to knock. Maggie stood there wearing a flowered peasant skirt with a softly flowing blouse.
"I heard you drive up," she said and, if he wasn't completely deluded, then blushed. "Shall we go?" She started to walk out the door.
"Oh, but you forgot your purse," Ian hastily observed.
"What?" Maggie automatically stopped and looked down.
Ian took the opportunity to mount the steps of her front stoop and push past her into the house.
"I have my purse, Ian." Maggie turned back into the house, where Ian had gone to bend over her foyer table.
"No, no. It's in here somewhere." He rummaged a hand through the many small items on the foyer table.
"Ian." She walked up, probably to halt his ridiculous rifling.
Turning, Ian took her in his arms.
With a gasp, she flashed her eyes up at him.
Ian smiled. "I guess you're right, you do have your purse. But you don't have this." He lowered his mouth to hers.
Though she started in surprise, it didn't take her long to get into the idea. Her lips, tasting like a strong brandy, softened under his. Her palms pressed against his chest.
It was a moment of shimmering promise.
Then she was pushing against him with her palms. "Ian," she murmured. "The kids."
He hummed in disappointment, but she was right. The kids were waiting. On the other hand, that kiss... Ian drew back to look at her.
She gazed back at him, her eyes looking soft.
Wait. Did her eyes maybe even look...willing?
Then she turned, as if she didn't want him to see any more. "Come on. We have to go."
Somehow, Ian managed to follow Maggie out of the house, to wait while she locked up, then walk her to the car, all with the façade of no-big-deal. But inside he was reeling. The question loomed large within him.
What if it didn't have to be just pretend? What if the lady was, after all, willing?
~~~
Stuck in the car in Maggie's driveway, Andy raised his elbow to the ledge of the window and glared at the front of Aunt Maggie's tiny little house. "What's taking them so long?" He hadn't wanted to go on this joke of a 'celebration' to begin with.
What was to celebrate? His dad was going back to work. Whoop-de-doo. He probably wasn't healthy enough to do it, but his father didn't care. His work was more important than anything else in the world.
On the other side of the car, Kathy stretched and yawned. "Oh, they won't be too long. He's just kissing her."
Andy continued staring at the house. It was a long moment before he actually heard what Kathy had said. Then he whipped his head around. "What?"
Kathy lifted a shoulder. "They don't want us to know yet, so they'll keep it short."
"What?" Andy barked again.
"Come on, Andy." Kathy laughed. "Are you blind?"
Andy's eyes were wide on his sister. "You're making this up." She had to be. His dad...and Aunt Maggie? That was disgusting.
Kathy leaned toward him. "They've been spending every day together, even when they don't have to. And when they come home, they're laughing. I haven't seen Dad so happy since—well, since you know. And Aunt Maggie." Kathy rolled her eyes. "I've never seen her like this at all. She is, like, totally in love."
Andy gagged. "No."
Kathy leaned back again with a smug smile. "You don't have to believe me. You'll see...soon enough."
"No," Andy said again. But a coldness invaded his bones. They had been spending time together, even after his dad supposedly hadn't had to be babysat. But that didn't mean—just because they'd been laughing— "You're wrong," Andy said but didn't know if he were trying to convince Kathy or himself. It couldn't be true. Aunt Maggie wouldn't have gone over to the enemy. She wouldn't do that!
Just then Aunt Maggie walked out of the house. Ian was right on her heels. She looked kind of embarrassed. He looked thoughtful.
No, Andy thought, studying them with a frown. Kathy wasn't right. There couldn't be anything going on between them. But he felt the sting of betrayal.
It seemed like everybody had somebody who cared about them—except him. He was the only one who was all alone.
Fine. But that was fine! That was just the way he wanted it. Andy set his jaw and looked forward. He didn't need anybody, no, not anybody at all.
~~~
"You warm enough?" Ian had one hand on the car's steering wheel, the other on the heater control.
Maggie smiled. "I'm fine."
He smiled back and took his hand off the control.
Excitement shimmered beneath Maggie's exterior calm as she sat in the car with Ian. They'd had a nice dinner at La Cucina, the best restaurant in downtown Palmwood. Then Ian had dropped the kids off at his house.
She could have stopped him then. Probably should have stopped him. She wasn't born yesterday. She knew why he'd left the kids at his house, with Andy babysitting, before driving her home.
She knew.
But in the car now, Ian acted casual. "Well, it's back to the grind tomorrow."
Maggie decided there was no harm in going along with casual. "Is it back to the grind?" she asked, and turned to face him. "Like you never left?"
A smile curved one side of his mouth. "Not even close. Every time I look at the so-called construction documents for this music center, I think of all the work that needs to be done and want to run in the other direction."
"But you don't."
His smile curved higher on the one side of his mouth. "Not today, anyway."
"One day is all you have to do," Maggie said. "One day at a time."
"Huh." Ian frowned thoughtfully. "I think I've heard that before, somewhere or other." He turned to shoot her a grin.
God, his smile was deadly, making her stomach go into freefall and her brain disappear altogether.
It doesn't mean anything is going to happen. Just because she'd let him drop off the kids first, just because maybe, just maybe, she was allowing the possibility, didn't mean anything was necessarily going to happen.
"I think tomorrow will be easier," she told Ian. "I mean, with work."
He snorted. "Maybe."
Maggie laughed softly. It was the strangest thing; she felt pride at his courage in returning to work. Pride!
Ian's brows flinched downward. "Now that the sheer panic has eased, I'm noticing my other problems." He glanced at her. "Namely, Andy."
"Don't look at me." Maggie shook her head. "I'm through believing I'm an expert on your children."
"Damn. Just when I was getting ready to listen to you, too. What happened?"
Maggie shifted her gaze. "I'm finding out it's a lot easier to criticize from a distance than actually deal with children day in and day out."
He glanced at her. "Interesting."
She could have added that watching Ian over the past few weeks had given her the opportunity to realize he paid close attention to his kids, he really cared about them. They didn't need her to run interference.
Ian took the corner off Broadway, turning onto the street that led to Maggie's house. They both grew silent.
Maggie was pretty sure his thoughts had turned to the same subject hers had: what would happen once they got to her house?
She'd bid him a fond farewell at her door, of course. Anything else would be sheer madness. He was still Ian. She couldn't get intimately involved with him—for a thousand reasons, though she couldn't get her mind around more than one or two of them just then.
Ian slowed the car as they approached her house. He turned the wheel and brought the vehicle into her driveway. Maggie disguised a swallow as he shifted into park and cut the motor. Clearly, he did not expect her to hop out of the car and wave him goodbye from her front stoop.
She opened her car door. But he was fast. By the time she'd exited the car, he was by her side. He walked next to her up the path to her front door. Neither of them said a word.
I'm not going to ask him in. But at the door, her hands shook as she fumbled in her purse for her keys. Her trembling was silly. Nothing was going to happen.
Then she made a big mistake. She looked up at him.
He was gazing at her intently. Not demanding, not even really asking, just...waiting.
Oh, hell. He couldn't have chosen a more powerful tactic. A come-on she could easily rebuff. But this? He was leaving the outcome of the evening up to her.
With her heart beating heavily in her chest, she looked down and fit her key into the lock. "Wanta come in, have coffee or something?"
Unbelievable. What had she just said? Coffee—or something?
Beside her, Ian visibly tensed. "Sure." His voice sounded gravelly. "I could go for some coffee."
Maggie closed her eyes. Okay, coffee. That's all this had to be. She hadn't, really, offered anything more.
She opened her front door and went inside. As she switched on the light in the living room, she heard him close the front door. Her heart rate increased about a hundredfold.
"Uh, the coffee's in the kitchen." She managed to make her legs move in that direction. Coffee. If she could make some coffee, she might remain safe. "Let's see, coffee, coffee, coffee," Maggie murmured, and began opening upper kitchen cabinets at random. For the life of her, she could not remember where she kept her coffee.
Meanwhile, Ian stalked into her tiny kitchen.
Maggie opened and closed another cabinet door. Her heart was practically beating right out of her chest. Coffee. She was going to make coffee. Except that she felt a heavy cloud seem to fall over her, slowing her movements, scrambling her brain.
From behind her, Ian put his hands on her shoulders.
Every nerve ending Maggie owned vibrated, like harp strings that had been plucked.
"Maggie," he said, hoarse.
Time seemed to stop. There was nothing in Maggie's brain. It was a complete desert wasteland.
He gave her shoulders a tiny squeeze.
As a seduction, this wasn't very much—but it turned out to be more than enough. An image sprang into Maggie's mind from a documentary she'd once seen about Hawaiian volcanos. The bubbling hot lava had simply overflowed its vessel. Nothing explosive, but completely relentless. No power on earth could stop the roll of red-hot lava.
That's what was happening here. Her desire to be together with him, touching each other—there was no stopping it.
She leaned back against him with a sigh, a fluttering butterfly of a thing, the last beating of a fragile resistance that slipped under the edge of the oncoming lava.
She tilted her head.
Ian took this for the offering it was. His lips touched her neck.
Lightning flashed over the slow lava. Maggie's lips parted.
It was one bolt of electricity after another as he kissed his way up her neck to the underside of her jaw.
"Ian." Maggie barely recognized her own voice.
"Maggie." His hands loosened on her shoulders, and he smoothed them down her chest.
Maggie's whole body jerked.
Ian stopped.
"It's okay," Maggie said, in the same strange, soft voice she'd heard before. It hadn't been okay, though, it had been intense, but she wanted more. She squirmed a little when Ian didn't move.
He understood, and palmed her breasts again.
Maggie drew in a sharp breath, but accepted the pleasure this time, outrageous as it was. She let the chords of it ripple through her.
Suddenly, she needed to touch him, too. She stretched her arms backward, her fingers finding the back of his pants. Curling her hands around his buttocks, she pulled him closer.
Ian hissed in her ear. His erection was stiff against her bottom.
Maggie knew she was being afflicted with the same malady that had struck her the night before when Ian had taken her in his arms. She was utterly intoxicated. She had to be, because this couldn't be her grabbing Ian's buttocks. It couldn't be her arching her breasts into his hands.
And it couldn't be her throwing her head back with an ecstatic gasp when Ian rubbed his thumbs over her nipples. It couldn't be her. Because sex was never like this for her, so intense, even overpowering.
Ian made a rough sound and began pulling her blouse from the waistband of her skirt. His hips pressed against her. Or was that her, pushing back against his pelvis? It didn't matter. Maggie felt as if she was completely beneath the hot lava now, getting dragged along with its flow. There was no stopping, no changing direction, no escape.
Using his hands under Maggie's shirt, Ian unsnapped her bra and slipped his fingers beneath the loosened fabric, flesh on flesh with her breasts. Maggie felt an upward spike in her pleasure.
She didn't know if she was the one who moved then, or if Ian turned her, but suddenly they were facing each other and Ian's mouth came down hungrily on hers. Not that she wasn't hungry, too. She was ravenous, wrapping her arms around him, wanting to drink his essence. Ian's hands cupped her breasts and pressed their turgid centers.
"The bedroom," he muttered. "I think we'd better...continue this...in the bedroom."
Oh, but she didn't want to let him go, didn't want to end this magic swirling.
"Yes, yes." Ian seemed to understand, though she hadn't uttered a word. "But I'm not going to be able to get inside you if we stay in the kitchen."
She stopped. Get inside her? The idea made her melt yet further. "You want to do that?" Her voice sounded dreamy.
His eyes widened. "Just a little."
Maggie giggled softly.
Ian used the opportunity to extricate himself from her hold, which was her hands stuck in the back waistband of his pants. He took both her hands in one of his, and led her from the kitchen.
Maggie adored the sight of his broad shoulders as they went and the line of his back, ending in a perfectly delectable rear end. Yes, Ian's rear end was something to behold.
Once inside the bedroom, he turned and saw the look on her face. The lava fire in his own eyes leapt higher.
Oh, she had to walk up to him, then. She pressed her palms to his chest and looked up. He kissed her deeply.
After that, it was something of a blur. Some of her clothes disappeared, then some of his. By the time they fell on the bed, they were both completely naked. That was good because Maggie wanted to touch him everywhere.
First she explored the texture of his chest and how her tongue there made the muscles beneath his belly shudder. Then Ian turned the tables and sent her head thrashing on the pillow with some wicked caresses of his own.
Maggie felt as though she was in some alternate plane of being, a plane where all she knew was him and a heavenly thrill of need and pleasure.
"Let's...now," Ian suggested, kissing his way up her body.
"Yes, let's," Maggie eagerly agreed, though she had no idea what he was talking about. She soon understood, though, as Ian fit himself between her thighs. Her level of anticipation, already in the clouds, climbed yet higher. She widened her legs, welcoming.
He entered her almost warily. Maggie could understand. The effects of this last intimacy promised to be overwhelming. As he began to fill her, she lifted her chin, feeling a growing pleasure. He was so different from her, hard and strong, like her other half. The physical need built until she could stand it no more. With one powerful upward thrust of her own, she sank him home.
"Maggie!" She felt a shudder run all the way through him. For one short moment, he went still. That didn't last long. Soon he was driving into her, hard and strong.
The sensation was exquisite, beyond belief. She countered his every plunge with a thrust of her own. The only sound in the room was their gasping breaths as they worked together to climb higher. Maggie's hands grasped his shoulders. His fingers clasped her hips.
"More," Maggie whispered. She was already well beyond any place she'd ever been, yet knew there was more and that she wasn't quite...there.
"Then you need to...stop," Ian gritted out and suddenly grabbed hold of her thighs. Maggie moaned a protest as he spread them further apart and then held them down. She couldn't move, to try to reach that place.
But Ian could, and he did. He rammed into her hard and heavy and fast.
Pinned down, the recipient of his full male strength and power, Maggie felt like she was sinking into the heart of the volcano, utterly losing herself to the heat and passion and earthy unity of it all. Only dimly, flickering far off, did it occur to her that Ian had completely taken over. What did that matter when she could feel him reaching something deep inside of her, when she could feel him pull that something higher and higher?
"I can't— Oh, no—" Maggie's eyes grew wide. She'd reached the center of the volcano and erupted. She exploded into a thousand beams of energy. "Ian!"
"Maggie!" His powerful body jerked above her.
Feeling like she was made of pure joy, Maggie held Ian tightly.
Slowly, he lowered to gather her into his own arms.
After several long moments in which the physical euphoria transformed to a lazy dazzlement, Ian rolled to her side. They lay together for a while, skin pressed to warm skin, listening to each other's heartbeats, luxuriating in the afterglow. Ian's heart beat steady and strong, she noticed. Just like the rest of him, steady and strong.
Her lips curved in a satisfied smile. She hadn't minded Ian's strength at the end there, hadn't minded it at all...
That's when a piece of her brain flew back into place. Why hadn't she minded it? The smile on her lips faltered.
Was there a reason she had to mind? Maggie asked herself. Ian's body felt so nice and hard against her own. Was there something wrong with that, something wrong with taking comfort and pleasure in his embrace?
There was if she were losing herself in the process.
As she lay there, her body in complete physical heaven, a smoky ribbon of fear went through her. Was that true? Had she lost herself tonight? Let's see... She hadn't intended to go to bed with Ian...but she had. She hadn't intended to get drugged by the sensual pleasure of it all...but she had.
In sum, she'd completely lost control. In fact, she'd let Ian dictate everything, from the dinner venue to how fast he'd stroked her to orgasm.
Inside, Maggie went cold. If that wasn't losing her self-determination, she didn't know what was.
Against her, Ian stirred. He pulled his head back to look down at her. "Don't go away," he rumbled. "I'll be right back."
"Where are you going?"
"Just to get rid of this." Ian rolled out of the bed.
To get rid of what? Maggie watched Ian stride toward her little bathroom. Finally, she realized what he was getting rid of: a condom.
The fear lurking inside of her whirled upward. That's right. Ian had taken care of contraception. She remembered now. He'd stopped the action, rolled the thing on. She would never have thought of it, she'd been that...lost. So lost she'd depended on Ian to think of it for her!
"Um," she said, as he started back for the bed. "Thanks. For thinking about that." She certainly hadn't. God.
Ian smiled and leaned down to kiss her. "You're welcome."
Despite her fear, the touch of his lips was like a shot of the mind-altering drug: power followed by lazy comfort. Maggie closed her eyes. "I think I understand now what Sophia saw in you."
Standing over her, Ian went still. Then he gave a rumbling laugh. "If you're talking about how we just made love, I never did it like that with Sophia."
Maggie opened her eyes again, wide. Despite the smoky ribbon of fear swirling inside, this bore investigation. "You didn't?"
Shaking his head, Ian lowered onto the bed next to Maggie. "Not that I think I ought to be comparing you..."
"Of course not," Maggie quickly soothed. "But you might want to elaborate on that last statement, just this once."
Ian settled his hand on Maggie's shoulder. His eyes followed his hand as it smoothed down to her waist. "Sophia and I, well, it was just more...normal. Ordinary. With you, Maggie—" His eyes flicked to meet hers. "I went crazy." He paused and she could see him swallow. "I can go crazy. You won't— See, you can take it." His hand squeezed a little at her waist. "At least, I've been assuming you can. Are you—?"
"I'm fine." He hadn't hurt her. She couldn't let him believe that. "The fact is, I've never been better. That is...Ian—" She released a nervous laugh. "This was really out of my, uh...experience."
"Yeah." His eyes grew warm on her. "I know what you mean."
"But—you remembered a condom!" That mean he hadn't been as out of control as she had.
Ian's lips curved. "Pure reflex."
"Huh."
Ian bent closer. "Are we going to argue over who lost more control?"
"Well." Actually, Maggie wouldn't mind a lengthy discussion of the topic. She needed reassurance here. She wanted Ian to be as far out to sea as she was.
"We'll have to save that argument for another time." Ian kissed her once again, then rolled the other way. "I'd better get home."
"Oh." Maggie put a hand to her forehead. "The kids." She'd nearly forgotten them, too!
"I told Andy I wouldn't be right back," Ian admitted, and shot Maggie a sheepish glance. "Just in case. So it's not too bad."
"Huh," Maggie said.
A wide smile spread over Ian's face. He reached down for his pants. "It pays to plan ahead."
"Oh, boy."
"Speaking of which..." Ian hopped once as he got a leg into his pants. "Kathy happens to have an invitation to stay at a friend's house on Friday night." His gaze hit Maggie directly as he zipped up his fly. "I could probably convince Andy to spend the night with his bud Brandon."
Maggie felt fear and sweet anticipation entwine. Friday night, they could do this...again.
And again and again. As many times as they liked, trying as many new caresses and teases and pleasures as they wanted. Her body went liquid, just thinking about it.
Her brain went frozen, absolutely horrified. He wanted to do this again, lose himself and lose control again? She frowned up at him. He couldn't have truly gone crazy, as he claimed, not if he wanted that.
Ian paused with his hand at the top button of his pants. "You don't like the idea?"
"I like it fine." Maggie let out an exasperated breath. "Maybe too fine. I don't know, Ian. Do you think this, us getting together, is all that wise?"
He grew very still then. His eyes became twin dark blazes, pinning her to the bed. "Do I think it's wise?"
"Exactly. Do you?"
Ian took two vigorous strides. He reached the bed and bent over Maggie.
She rolled onto her back, retreating—or perhaps submitting. Looking up at him, at the leashed male power in his eyes, his jaw, his whole, fantastic body, she wasn't sure if she were more afraid of him, or lusting after him.
"Maggie," he said in a low growl. "I don't think it's wise. I think it's imperative."
He leaned down and kissed her. This wasn't an affectionate peck. It was a claim, a takeover, a clear and thorough vanquishing of all Maggie's senses. It was a potent reminder of what had just been. For a moment she was taken back into the world of pleasure and need.
Ian's eyes were closed as he came up from the kiss. "I'll call you tomorrow," he said and turned. He grabbed his shirt off the floor and walked out of the room.
~~~
Nice kiss.
Ian was still humming inside as he walked out Maggie's front door and vaulted over her front stoop. There was a chill in the air and the streetlights cast cold fluorescent circles on the street. The streetlights, the concrete curb, the scrubby native plants in Maggie's front yard—it all looked beautiful to Ian, heavenly.
He whistled the opening bars of "Isn't She Lovely," as he opened his car door. Making love to Maggie had been all, and more, than he'd ever dreamed. Ian did an exuberant push-up against the side of the car, then climbed in.
It occurred to him, fleetingly, that he'd just made love to Sophia's sister, but any guilt this might have inspired simply wouldn't take hold. He'd been faithful to Sophia while she'd been alive, in both body and heart. But she had no need for that kind of faith any more. And Ian, finally, had no more need to give it to her. He felt utterly free, liberated...turned on.
Grinning and whistling again, Ian stuck his key in the ignition. He turned over the motor and listened to its power with satisfaction. It reminded him of Maggie, the thoroughly responsive, confident purr of power. Ian rested his hands on the steering wheel and closed his eyes. He allowed himself to relive the whole thing, the way she'd melted and then charged to life. Was there a woman on earth who was such a compelling mixture of strength and femininity?
Not a chance.
Ian felt his smile fade. Maggie was special to him, yes, he wasn't going to deny it. Nor would he deny exactly how special. It went a long way beyond mere sexual attraction at this point. He was...really into her. Infatuated. The car motor continued to growl as Ian stared out the windshield. His smile turned into a sober line.
Okay, okay, he was in love with her.
Ian shifted the car into reverse. He checked behind him as he backed out of Maggie's driveway. Was it so bad to be in love with Maggie? he asked himself. She was intelligent, strong, and already loved his kids. She was emotionally and intellectually challenging, and he'd just found out she was hell on wheels in bed.
So why was he feeling this cold rain of fear drizzle onto his euphoria?
Ian shifted into forward and started driving. Is it wise? she'd asked. Is it wise? He shook his head at the road. How could she ask that? Hadn't she felt what he had? Hadn't she felt...the connection, the symbiosis, the give-and-take strength of it all?
Apparently not.
But then again— He remembered the flustered expression on her face when he'd come back from the bathroom. She'd felt some of that emotion. She'd felt a lot of it. Hey, hadn't she even said so?
Ian blinked when the light he'd stopped at turned green. What was the cross street here? Was he at Broadway yet? Lord, he was distracted.
Or was that worried?
But Maggie was feeling everything he was, Ian told himself as he turned left onto Broadway. He was sure of it. It's just that she was scared. She'd never been this affected by sex. She'd probably never been this affected by a man, period. She probably figured being this into one would affect her precious independence.
Ian sucked in his lips and plowed down Broadway. She probably figured right. Being in a relationship, a real relationship, meant losing a certain degree of independence and trading it in for something stronger. He suspected Maggie wouldn't like that idea.
Fear was a quick thrust in his gut. Ian tightened his hands on the steering wheel and made a concentrated effort to keep his car on the road. He told himself not to panic. Maggie wasn't going to like the idea of losing independence—at first. But she'd get used to it. As he kept after her, kept showing her how good things could be, she'd lose her fear. She'd start to see the other side of the equation.
All he had to do was remain persistent. Maggie loved him. She just...hadn't figured it out yet. She was probably afraid to figure it out. But she loved him.
Ian felt another thrust of fear in his gut. Yeah, sure she loved him. Or was he, as he'd done at work earlier, just pretending again?