Jeremy felt so good and Bernie needed him so much that she almost cried out with relief. He kissed her like a man who’d been deprived for a decade—rough, eager kisses so incredibly satisfying that she thought her whole body was going to liquefy and ooze right onto the floor. The almost incapacitating desire she’d felt for him for so long clashed with the sensations flooding through her—his taste, his touch, his scent—and she wanted to drown in every erotic moment. What kind of a fool had she been to tell him she didn’t want this?
After a while, he took her by the hand, and somehow they made it to her bedroom. He opened the door and pulled her inside, turning and nudging the door closed with his heel. Then he was kissing her again, and any remaining doubt she had about being with him vanished, and the place inside her that had been desperate for this kind of intimacy was suddenly filled to overflowing.
Suddenly he pulled away, breathing hard. “Hold on. Wait a minute.”
She froze. “Wait? Why are we waiting?”
“Because we have to take this slow. Slow and easy.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re pregnant,” he said, still catching his breath. “But don’t worry. I know how to do this. I’ve been reading up.”
“Reading up on what?”
“Sex during pregnancy. Now, don’t get mad about that. I wasn’t presuming anything. I just like to be prepared.”
“Uh… okay.”
“You’re in your second trimester. Did you know that’s the best time for sex? Women are generally sick during the first trimester and tired during the third. The second is the sweet spot. So our timing’s good.”
“Then we’d better get started, huh? In case the timing turns bad?”
“And I’ll be extra careful, because I know there are some things that may be uncomfortable for you when we’re doing it.”
The only thing making her uncomfortable right now was the fact that they weren’t doing it.
“So we need to think about positions,” he said. “Those are important when you’re pregnant. I learned about three of them, but they’re kinda hard to describe. Wait—one of the websites had photos. Let me get my phone.”
No. This couldn’t be happening. Surely he wasn’t reaching for his phone. Surely he wasn’t—
Good Lord. He was.
He pulled his phone from his pocket. He gave the screen a poke, then swept his thumb across it a few times.
“Bridges. Put down the phone.”
“It’ll only take a sec. I have it bookmarked.”
“Are you actually going to show me pictures of people having sex?”
“They’re wearing clothes,” Jeremy said. “The photos are just for demonstration purposes.”
She grabbed the phone from his hand and tossed it to the top of her dresser. “I want to have sex. You want to do research. What’s wrong with this picture?”
“I just want to do it right.”
“There is no wrong way to do it.”
“Oh, yeah? You should read the websites. Women change a lot when they’re pregnant. What turned them on before turns them off now. Some parts are really sensitive. Lots of conflicting messages. For the record, guys don’t like conflicting messages. It makes it hard for them to… you know. Do the job.”
She couldn’t help laughing. “Do the job?”
“And now you’re laughing,” he said, turning away. “That’s just great.”
Bernie stood there for several seconds, totally confused by this decidedly non-Jeremy behavior. Then the most amazing realization struck her.
“Are you nervous about this?” she asked.
He whipped back around. “Nervous? Me?” He laughed a little. “Do you know who you’re talking to?”
“Yeah. A man who’s made love to umpteen women, and not one of them has ever been pregnant.”
“Well, yeah, that’s true, but…” As his words faded out, he turned away, his mouth tight-lipped with irritation. Then his eyes drifted closed and he let out a sigh of resignation.
“Okay. You’re right. I told you I knew what to do, but the truth is that I don’t have a clue. This is uncharted territory for me. I’ve wanted you so badly I could taste it, and suddenly here we are, and now… now all I can think about is messing it up.”
“Messing it up?”
He let out a long breath. “I’m just afraid of doing something that makes you uncomfortable, or hurts you, or makes you want to stop.”
She couldn’t believe it. Jeremy Bridges, a man who’d left hundreds of satisfied women in his wake, was actually uptight about making love to her? Something about that made her want to start kissing him and never stop.
She inched closer and placed her hands against his chest, then leaned in and touched her lips to his. “That’s not going to happen. And just for the record, I’m nervous, too.”
“You are? Why?”
“Because you’re a man who’s made love to umpteen women, and not one of them has ever been pregnant.”
“True, but—”
“I’m not like the picture-perfect women you’re used to being with.”
He kissed her neck. “And I thank God every day for that.”
“I just don’t want you to be disappointed in what you see. So I’m thinking maybe you should turn out the lights.”
“Bernie—”
“I’m thirty-six years old, I’m pregnant, gravity and I are not on speaking terms, and I could fill the Great Lakes with the water I’m retaining.”
“I don’t care,” he whispered in her ear. “I want to see you.”
“Do you also want to see my white cotton underwear?” She rolled her eyes. “God. Why do I have to be so damned practical?”
He smiled. Then he laughed softly, shaking his head. “You’re really something, you know that?”
“Now you’re laughing,” she muttered. “Wonderful.”
“If you had any idea of how hot I am for you, you’d know just how fast that underwear is going to end up on the floor.”
True to his word, he had her shirt off in an instant, and with a flick of his fingers, he unhooked her bra and tossed it to the floor. He circled her breasts with his hands, squeezing them gently. She draped her arms loosely behind his neck, tilting her head backward as he kissed his way down her neck to her shoulder.
“You were so wrong,” he whispered. “You are so beautiful.”
They were words she’d never heard from a man before, and she refused to believe them. But then he was taking off the rest of her clothes, and his, and by the way he looked at her in the dim lamplight with such an adoring, appreciative gaze, she started to believe he really meant it. Any remaining mistrust she might still have been clinging to seemed to fade away, and the place in her heart that had felt so empty for years was suddenly filled with warmth. He tunneled one hand into the hair at the back of her head, tilting her head so their mouths fit together perfectly and he could kiss her deeper and harder with the kind of passion she’d lain awake nights dreaming about.
She pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, then whispered breathlessly in his ear. “I want you so much. Please make love to me.”
He eased her over to the bed, where he pulled back the covers and helped her lie down. She started to tell him that he didn’t have to be so careful, that she wouldn’t break, only to realize how special it made her feel that he thought she might.
He stretched out beside her on one elbow. Closing his hand around one of her breasts, he traced his thumb back and forth over her nipple. Her breasts were so tender that at first it hurt, but after a moment the pain was gone and there was only pleasure. And when he dipped his head to touch his tongue to it, sweeping it in slow circles, the satisfaction was so intense she thought she’d die from the feeling.
“I want you,” she said breathlessly. “Please. I’ve wanted you so much, for such a long time now. Please.”
He kissed the curve of her shoulder, then grazed his lips against her ear. “Say my name,” he whispered.
“What?”
“You never say my name. Say it.”
“Bridges.”
“You know what I mean.”
She swallowed hard. “Jeremy.”
The last syllable fell nearly silent on the single breath she took to say it. She loved the rhythm of it, the three syllables, the way it sounded as it passed through her lips.
“That’s better,” he said softly. “So much better.”
She laid her hand against his cheek, staring into those beautiful eyes, then stroked her fingertips though his hair and pulled him down for one kiss, then another, and then they all seemed to blend together in a single sea of sensation. Just as she thought she might cheerfully drown in it, he rolled away for a moment and she realized he was getting a condom.
“I don’t know if you need that,” she said. “I can’t exactly get pregnant again.”
“I’m just protecting you. I’ve been with a lot of women.”
“Yeah, I know.”
The moment the words were out of her mouth, she wished she could take them back. But all he did was stroke her arm and look down at her with an expression of total sincerity.
“It’s been months since I’ve been with another woman, Bernie. Since that day you showed up in my office and told me you were pregnant, you’re the one I’ve wanted.”
She couldn’t believe it. All this time? No other women?
But his gaze had remained strong and steady as he said the words, as if to assure her he was telling the truth. He gave her a gentle kiss, then eased her over to lie on her side with her back to him. He rested on one elbow behind her, his forearm beneath her pillow, his other hand splayed beneath her breasts.
“If you lie like this,” he said softly, “it should be comfortable for you. But if it’s not, there are other ways. We’ll find the right one, okay?”
She felt him hard against her and knew just how much he wanted her, but still he spent endless minutes kissing her neck, her shoulder, caressing her breasts at the same time, and her body seemed to melt under his mouth and his hands. Then he slid his hand down to delve gently between her legs. He had to feel how slick and hot she was and how she was dying to feel him inside her.
His lips touched her neck, his hot breath fanning her ear. “Are you ready for me, sweetheart?”
A shiver of anticipation slid right down her spine, followed by a rush of pure desire. Until all this happened, her only image of him was of a demanding, controlling, self-centered man who used women for his own pleasure.
Nothing could have been further from the truth.
“Yes,” she said. “God, yes.”
He bent her upper leg slightly at the knee, giving him access, and then he slipped inside her. He inhaled a sharp, raspy breath, and she could feel his shudder of self-restraint. She was so hot and wet that there was no resistance, but he filled her completely, and it felt so good when he began to rock inside her. But while his strokes were deep and thorough, they were also so maddeningly slow that she thought she’d go out of her mind.
“More. Jeremy, please. More. Faster.”
“No, sweetheart. I have to take it easy. We’ll get there, I promise you.”
She hadn’t expected this. She’d assumed he’d want it quick and hot and satisfying, and that was what she thought she wanted, too. Their first encounter had been about anger and power and control and was so hot the sofa practically caught fire, but this was the opposite. It was soft. Sweet. Tender. With every touch, every word, he was telling her just how much he cared about her and how good he wanted this to be.
He slipped his hand between her legs again, caressing her there as he rocked inside her, whispering soft words of encouragement. He read every small shift of her body, every whimper of satisfaction, stroking one way, rubbing another, until every molecule in her body was dying for release.
And then she felt it. Something deep inside, like a tiny piece of kindling catching fire. Barely burning. Then burning brighter. A soft moan of pleasure rose in her throat.
“That’s right,” he whispered. “I want to hear you. Let me know what feels good.”
“Everything feels good. Everything.”
She tightened her muscles around him, the incredible pressure and friction pushing her higher and higher until she was teetering on the edge and going insane with anticipation.
“Oh, Jeremy, oh, God…”
When the first shockwave hit, she gasped at the sheer power of it. Then came one shuddering spasm after another—hard, pulsing, endless waves of agonizing pleasure. As she clamped down on him, he began to move faster, harder, his restraint crumbling, and she heard his breath catch. He grasped her thigh, and with his next stroke, he dropped his forehead against her shoulder, every muscle going rigid, a heavy groan ripping from his throat. His hips convulsed as he moved deeper inside her, wringing out every bit of pleasure he possibly could.
Finally he slumped against her, boneless with satisfaction, his skin warm against hers, his breath hot against her neck. They lay there like that for a long time, slowly edging their way back to reality. Then Jeremy fell to his back and gathered her in his arms, pulling her against him as they settled into satisfied exhaustion. Their breathing became softer, more measured, and the heat of their lovemaking dimmed to a warm glow.
“I have to fly to Atlanta early tomorrow morning,” he said.
She felt a rush of disappointment. “How long will you be gone?”
“Three days. I don’t want to go. In fact, I think I’m going to cancel my flight and lock us up together in this room forever.”
“I like the sound of that,” she said. “Oh. Problem. Sooner or later we’ll have to eat.”
“We’ll let Mrs. Spencer in to bring us food. But that’s it.”
“What about Sybersense? How will they manage without their CEO?”
“How long do you think it’ll take them to figure out I’m gone?”
“About five minutes.”
He sighed dramatically. “Okay. So it’s not a practical plan.”
“But I do like the way you think.” She nestled closer to Jeremy, and he tightened his arms around her. Then she had a thought of her own.
“Oh, my God,” she said suddenly. “Max. He’s still downstairs.”
Jeremy grabbed his phone and called him, telling him to go home tonight and come back at six in the morning. Bernie could only imagine what was going through Max’s mind, but she didn’t want to think about that right now. All she wanted to think about was falling asleep in Jeremy’s arms.
He flipped off the lamp and came back to bed. As he settled back against his pillow, Bernie eased over to rest her head against his shoulder. She took a deep breath, and when she let it out, she felt so relaxed that just lifting a finger would be a chore.
“I made you mad when I bought this apartment complex,” Jeremy said. “But are you mad now?”
She laughed a little. “God, no. I love my apartment. The whole complex is looking beautiful. It was a good thing you did, Jeremy. I know the tenants appreciate it.”
“I know I acted like a real ass about wanting you to move. But it just reminded me so much of the place I lived when I was a kid. Nothing was as bad as that, but it sure stirred up the memories.”
She couldn’t even imagine what it must have been like. “How bad was it?”
For a moment, she thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then he went on, his voice slipping into a quiet, haunting tone.
“Just about the only paint left on the buildings was graffiti. Boards were rotted. Weeds grew through every crack in the sidewalks. There were drug deals. Gang violence. Sometimes I slept on the floor because of the gunshots I heard, because I never knew if one of the bullets was going to come through my window.”
“That’s terrible,” Bernie whispered.
“My father was worse. Most of the time all he did was drink too much and pass out, but every once in a while he’d turn mean. I had to watch my back from the time I was six years old.”
“He was abusive to you?”
“In just about every way there was.”
“I’m so sorry,” she murmured.
“I used to wish he’d come to school events. All I wanted to do was look up and see his face. Then once he did show up for a parent-teacher conference. He was dead drunk and made a pass at my teacher. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.”
Bernie felt a shiver of empathy, even though she couldn’t possibly hope to know what that had felt like.
“He used to taunt me all the time about the fact that I was going to a fancy school, as if getting a decent education was a bad thing. He just felt so crappy about himself that he had to tear into me.”
“At least you had the opportunity to go to a nice school.”
“No. Not nice. It was a good school, but it sure as hell wasn’t a nice one. I rode the bus to school. The other kids got there in their Lexuses and Mercedes. The guys treated me like shit. The girls acted like I had some kind of disease just because I didn’t have a rich daddy paying my tuition. For four years, they never let me forget I was the poor scholarship kid.”
“That’s terrible. How did you ever survive that?”
“I survived it,” he said, his voice low and harsh, “because I was driven to be such a success and make so damned much money that I could call my own shots and never be at anyone’s mercy again. I pushed through. Graduated. Went to college. Got my degree.”
“And built an amazing business.”
“I knew I wasn’t going to be able to make it big working for somebody else. But when I asked for loans, bankers told me to go to hell. Venture capitalists wanted to own every profitable idea I ever had. It seemed like the whole damned world was against me. But I finally made it. I’ve finally gotten my life to the point where nobody can touch me.”
She’d been so wrong before. The things from his past she thought he’d gotten over still haunted him to this day. She knew now why he struggled for control of just about any situation he was in. When a child was raised at the mercy of a terrible environment, he learned very quickly to protect himself from the pain and confusion and chaos any way he could.
“Sometimes when I was a kid,” Jeremy said, his voice agonizingly quiet, “I used to fantasize that a man would come to the door one day and tell me he was my real father. He’d take me away to live with him, and he’d be there all the time, doing all the father stuff with me. That’s who I want to be. That father. The one a kid dreams of having.”
She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe this was the man she had wanted out of her children’s lives forever. She turned her face up and kissed his neck, then settled her cheek against his chest again.
“I just couldn’t bear the thought of my kids being raised anywhere that reminded me of my father or the place I came from,” Jeremy said. “I want their home to be perfect.”
“It is now. It’s beautiful.”
She put her hand against the side of his neck, gently stroking her thumb along his jaw. A tiny bit of moonlight skirted through the blinds, and by the faint light, she saw his eyes slowly drift closed. After a moment, his steady breathing told her he’d fallen asleep.
Bernie lay awake for a long time, trying to get a grip on the way she felt, trying to tell herself that this meant nothing even when it felt like everything. She just hadn’t expected it to be like this. She hadn’t expected that he would be so warm and kind and sweet, making her feel more cherished than any woman on earth. Being with him tonight had knocked one more brick out of that wall she’d been so desperate to maintain between them, and if she kept this up, sooner or later it would be gone altogether. And when that happened, either something wonderful would be waiting for her on the other side, or she’d be facing the biggest heartbreak of her life.
Either way, there was no going back now.
When Bernie woke the next morning, she rolled over and reached out for Jeremy, only to find the bed empty beside her. It was a few seconds before she remembered that he’d taken an early flight to Atlanta that morning. He’d gotten up and left without her even waking up.
Three days. God, she was going to miss him. Last night had been beyond amazing, and she couldn’t wait for him to come home again.
She got up and took a shower, grabbed a bagel for breakfast, and headed to her office at Creekwood. A tenant was already outside the door, waiting for her to arrive so he could report that his refrigerator was on the fritz. Bernie couldn’t wait until all the units had new appliances. When that happened, tenant repair requests would plummet. Not that she minded taking care of things that needed to be done. Charmin had virtually ignored these people for the past several years, and she was thrilled to be in a position to help them.
After she’d noted the tenant’s complaint and he’d left her office, the door opened and Max walked in. He was carrying a manila envelope.
“Max? What are you doing here? I thought you guys were on a flight to Atlanta this morning.”
“Bridges had something come up at the office, so we’re flying out this afternoon.” He handed her the manila envelope.
“What’s this?”
“Haven’t got a clue.”
She opened it and pulled out an ivory envelope. It was addressed to Jeremy, but he’d written her name across it. She opened it to find an invitation from Texas Southwestern University to attend a formal event to honor their major contributors. Apparently Jeremy was one of those. But what just about made her heart stop was the three words he’d written across it: Come with me?
It took Bernie a few minutes to realize that he was actually inviting her to this event. As his date. And the very thought of it terrified her.
Well, there was no question what she had to do. She had to tell him no. Even though she’d been to several of these events with him, it had been in an entirely different capacity. She didn’t have anything to wear. She didn’t know how to act around the rich folks. And she would likely embarrass him in some way by the time the evening was out, making him wish he’d never asked her in the first place. Texas Southwestern was her alma mater—hers, and that of about a gazillion other people in the state of Texas—but she wasn’t sure if that made things better or worse.
Then she realized there was a small arrow in the lower right corner of the invitation with the word “over” to the left of it. She flipped the card over. It was blank, except for Jeremy’s handwriting again.
Don’t make me beg.
And when she saw what he’d drawn beside those words, all she could do was stare at it with total disbelief.
A happy face?
She couldn’t believe it. Jeremy Bridges, of all the people on this planet, had drawn a happy face?
Talk about playing dirty.
She’d never been a sucker for sappiness, but Jeremy’s doing something as silly as that to persuade her made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside. How was she supposed to say no now?
She grabbed a pen and wrote a single word on the face of the invitation. Yes. And she drew her own happy face beside it. She returned the invitation to the manila envelope and handed it back to Max.
“Can you take this back to him for me?” she said with a smile.
Max took the envelope, then looked back at Bernie. “I hope you’re being careful.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re sleeping with him.”
She paused. “You figured that out, huh?”
“Yeah. I’m smart like that.”
For a long time, neither one of them said anything, but she could tell what he was thinking.
“I’m afraid he’s going to hurt you one of these days,” Max said finally.
Bernie hadn’t expected such a direct hit. “You thought it was a good idea that I go to work for him.”
“That was for your own mental health. If you didn’t get out of that job at the museum, you were going to go nuts and take hostages.” He paused. “It isn’t business I’m talking about. You can’t expect a guy like him to change overnight, Bernie. If he ever changes at all.”
Bernie swallowed hard. “I don’t expect anything from him.”
“I hope not.”
“He’s not what I thought he was.”
“He’s not what I thought he was, either. But he still has the capacity to cause you a world of hurt.”
“You don’t have to worry about me, Max. I don’t believe in fairy tales.”
Max stared at her a long time, his eyes like a pair of lie detectors, and it was all she could do not to blink. Finally he nodded. “Just be careful, will you?”
She nodded, and Max slipped out the door.
Bernie sat down in the chair at her desk, Max’s words still haunting her. And that was because she’d thought them herself more than once in the past few weeks. But she’d told him the truth. She didn’t believe in fairy tales, and she was perfectly well aware of Jeremy’s shortcomings. But even if they ended up having no future together, she wanted as much of the present as she could possibly get.
Okay. If she was going to that event, she had three days to transform herself from a dumpy, fashion-challenged pregnant woman to a… well, she didn’t exactly know what, but definitely something more attractive than the woman she was now.
And when she got there, she was going to smile. She was going to have a good time. She was going to do her best to forget who she was and be a woman who looked as if she belonged with a man like Jeremy. She didn’t have a clue how she was going to accomplish that, but if he wanted her to come with him, she was going to stop whining and make it happen.
Later, when she got to work, she grabbed her phone and called Teresa to tell her she needed some help—clothes, makeup, whatever. Unfortunately, Bill answered and told him that Teresa had taken the kids and driven to Wichita Falls for a week to visit her mother. As Bernie hung up, she realized she had only one other friend she could impose on to get the extensive help she needed. The thought of it was just a little bit scary, but what other choice did she have?
She picked up her phone again, called Lawanda, and told her she needed her help.
“With what?” Lawanda asked.
“I have to go to a formal event. I don’t have anything to wear. I was hoping maybe you could help me find something.”
She could practically feel Lawanda grinning right through the phone. “Shopping? You want me to go shopping? As you well know, I am the queen of shopping.”
“Now, listen to me,” Bernie said. “It has to be something understated. I’d feel silly in anything else. I know you like to dress a little… extravagantly.”
“That is because I dress to match my naturally flamboyant personality,” she explained. “The clothes have to fit the woman. But no, you will not be wearing army green no matter how much you beg.”
“And there’s the small problem with me being pregnant and fat and—”
“You’re forgetting that I am a plus-sized woman. Does that stop me from having an outstanding sense of style? No, it does not.”
“Can I just go with something black?”
“You got any clothes that aren’t black?”
“Uh… I’m sure I do.” She paused. “Somewhere.”
“If he sees you in black all the time, you gotta wear something else. Shake him up a little.”
“And I need a little help with makeup, too. Understated.”
“Ah,” Lawanda said with a sly smile. “So you want the full Lawanda treatment. You’re a very smart woman. I like that about you.”
Bernie thought about Lawanda’s false eyelashes and started praying.
“Don’t worry, girl,” Lawanda said. “By the time I get through with you, you’re gonna be a knockout.”