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  “Looks so pearly and creamy,” she said.

  “Taste it,” he urged, too wild with lust to couch his words.

  “Don’t mind if I—”

  She kissed her way down his chest and when she flicked her tongue across him, he nearly came undone. He grabbed the dark sheets, scrunching them in his fists, willing his body to hang on and not surrender too soon. She kissed along the thick ridges of his sex, cupping his balls and squeezing tighter in her enthusiasm.

  “Suck me,” he asked.

  “Really?”

  It was as if he’d awarded her some spectacular trophy, until she wrapped those wonderful lips completely around him. Then, he was the one who’d won the award of a lifetime. He had a Heismann of a hard-on and she was loving every inch of it, alternating between using friction and suction and moans of delight to make him wonder if he’d died and gone to heaven. Her hands, her teeth and her tongue drove him so close to the edge that he found himself tangling his fingers into her hair and pulling her off only seconds before he exploded.

  He intended to come more than once tonight, but each and every time, he wanted to be buried deep inside her.

  He had the condom on in record time. He’d always been known for his speed on the field, but by the time he had her back underneath him, his erection pressed at the entrance to her sweet sex, he’d made the decision to take it slowly. Maybe it was the wonder in her eyes. Maybe it was the way she worried her bottom lips with her teeth. Maybe it was the insatiable need to make this last for as long as he possibly could.

  “Now what do I do?” she asked.

  The question caught him off guard. His chest tightened and he attempted to pull back, but she stopped him.

  “You’ve never—”

  “No,” she replied.

  “Then I can’t,” he started, but her watering eyes stopped him cold. He hadn’t knowingly bedded a virgin since he’d been one himself. He couldn’t imagine what circumstances had led a woman as sensual and beautiful as Ana to save herself this long, but he doubted that having sex with a virtual stranger her first time was something she’d be happy about in the morning.

  However, she grabbed him by the upper arms and dug her nails in deep. “Don’t stop.”

  “You’ll regret this,” he said.

  “Believe me, Jack, of all the things I’ll regret in my life, this will not be one.”

  She reached down between them and though she gasped at the slippery feel of the condom, she guided him toward her hot entrance, then grabbed his buttocks and pulled him to the edge of ecstasy.

  He swallowed thickly, trying—and failing—to resist.

  “Jack, feel how wet I am. How tight. I’ve waited so long. Don’t make me wait another…”

  He didn’t. Exercising more control than he knew he possessed, he pressed inside her in infinitesimal increments. She spread her legs wide, gasping softly as her snug flesh opened for him. When her fingernails burrowed into his skin, he stopped.

  “Am I hurting you?” he asked.

  “Only when you stop,” she replied.

  “Give me your hands.”

  She complied. He threaded his fingers with hers and held them high above her head.

  “Now, wrap your legs around my waist. Higher. Yeah, right there.”

  He’d slid entirely inside her and the sensation made them both groan. He paused, reveling in the feel of her taut wetness enveloping him, but then she started to writhe, lighting the fuse. He withdrew, then pressed deeper, sliding toward complete release.

  “Oh, Jack!” she said, turning her face to the side, her expression wide-eyed, as if the sensations surprised her.

  “How do I feel?”

  “Wonderful, I can’t…” she said, losing the battle for words in her war to breathe.

  “You’re so hot,” he confessed, driving deep and then pulling back, forcing himself to milk every possible sensation from her body into his.

  She tightened her legs around his waist and moved in a counter rhythm that enhanced the sensations one hundred times.

  “Ana, don’t. Ana, stop. Ana. Don’t. Stop.”

  He kissed her just before he came and in the middle of the mind-numbing experience, he realized she hadn’t fully joined him for the ride. She was still rocking beneath him, desperate for the release he’d just enjoyed. He let go of one of her hands and slipped his fingers between them, toggling her clit until she screamed in rapture and her spasms matched his throb for throb.

  When the waves of pleasure subsided, he kissed her again, got up from the bed and disposed of the condom. Then, remembering her inexperience, he grabbed a soft cloth from the drawer under his sink, doused it with warm water and returned to the bed.

  She hadn’t moved. She was staring at the ceiling, still attempting to regulate her breathing. He slid onto the bed beside her and pressed the moist towel to her sex.

  “Ooh,” she moaned. “That feels amazing.”

  “You’re amazing. You’re sure this was your first time?”

  She laughed. “I’m fairly positive.”

  “How was I?”

  She turned her face and those dark blue eyes sparkled with wickedness. “Hmm. If I say there’s room for improvement, will you be too insulted to try again? And if I say you were perfect, then why attempt to improve?”

  “So I’m gathering you want to do this again?”

  “Yes, Jack. I do. And the sooner, the better.”

  10

  SINCE LOSING her powers, Tatiana had accepted her inability to fly, but she suspected that by morning, walking was going to be a challenge, as well. But she’d never felt so full, so satisfied, so sore and so beautiful in her entire existence.

  So this was what it felt like to be a woman—a real, flesh-and-blood human woman whose power came not from spells or wands, but from the exploration and release of her sexuality. After mating with a man who’d made her feel cherished when he barely knew her, she’d been tempted more than once to cry.

  Dawn approached. Jack had wrapped her in an oversized terrycloth robe and led her onto the balcony outside his bedroom. He’d brought coffee, which he’d sweetened with milk and sugar, then cuddled with her on an outdoor chaise lounge. While she watched the sun streak slashes of pink and lavender into the morning sky, he watched her.

  “You are incredibly beautiful,” he said.

  If the morning light wasn’t so uncertain, she was sure he’d have seen her blush.

  “Why haven’t you made love with anyone before now?” he asked.

  “Is knowing important to you?”

  “It shouldn’t be, but it is.”

  She couldn’t lie to him. Not after what they’d shared.

  “I never wanted to make love before. But the minute I saw you walk across the lawn, I wanted you for myself. Even if only for one night.”

  The situation forced her to give him that out clause—to ensure that he didn’t whisk her away before she’d had a chance to fulfill Harper’s wishes. As much as she wanted to relive the sensation of accepting his body into hers again, with the rising sun came the hard truth that she didn’t have forever to convince Jack to allow Harper to sing for the Broadway producers—and consequently, free her from her bonds.

  She had less than a month—from the waning full moon to the rising. And though they’d gone an entire evening without discussing his sister’s situation, she was certain that having sex with Jack would not change his mind about Harper. The man who’d made love to her all night long was not the same man who had built such constricting parameters around Harper’s life.

  “Do you want this to be a one-night deal?” he asked.

  “No,” she replied, again putting her faith in the truth.

  “I don’t want this to be one night, either,” he confessed, curling his fingers in the strands of her hair. “But I can’t risk Harper finding out about us. She’s only fourteen. I’m supposed to be her role model and she looks up to you, too. I’m not great at this parenting thing, bu
t explaining casual sex to the one person I never want to have casual sex is…problematic.”

  Tatiana understood. This world was wholly unlike Elatyria, but cherishing a young girl’s chastity was pretty universal on both sides of the bayou.

  “Do you want me to leave?”

  “What? No!” He’d sat up and she watched conflict skitter across his expression just like the birds rising off the wetlands in the distance. “I don’t want you to go.”

  She attempted to cover a satisfied smile. “Aren’t I complicating your life?”

  “Maybe my life hasn’t been complicated enough lately.”

  “I don’t think Harper would agree with you.”

  “Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe I’m so focused on her and have been for so long, I’ve forgotten to take some things for myself.”

  He relaxed against her and they remained there, dozing when they weren’t chatting, occasionally touching and kissing, until the passion stoked hot again and Jack carried her back inside, closed the patio doors and drew the curtains so it was almost like night again. They made love one more time in such slow motion, Tatiana attempted to memorize each moment as it happened. She replayed each and every sensation before the next delight occurred. From his lips on her neck to his tongue on her breasts to his sex sliding oh-so-gently into hers.

  They were seconds from climaxing when the intercom beside Jack’s bed buzzed.

  He rolled her atop him as he reached for the button on the bedstand. She had to use all of her self-control to keep quiet at the new explosion of sensations. His sex speared her most sensitive spot, knocking every single thought from her mind except the edict to remain quiet.

  “Yes, Mrs. Bradley?”

  “I just wanted to let you know I’ve returned. Harper got off to school just fine. I have a few loads of laundry to do and then I’m off to the market.”

  “I’m in desperate need of—” he started, plucking at Tatiana’s breasts so that she threw her head back and bit her lip trying to keep from screaming with pleasure. “…shaving cream. Can you head…to the market first?”

  “You had three cans in your bath last time I checked,” Mrs. Bradley argued.

  Tatiana slid her hands into the hair on Jack’s chest and tugged hard, adjusting her knees so that suddenly, she ruled the timing and intensity of their lovemaking. She moved her hips, lifting up high and then inching back down on him. Every single nerve ending inside her caught fire—and clearly, the same sensation burned through Jack, as well.

  “I…must…have…” Jack said, breathing hard, bracing his hands on her waist in a valiant but useless attempt to keep her still. “…used it all up. Get some more, will you?”

  “And what about Ms. Starling?”

  Jack groaned, but the sound was so low and restrained, Tatiana was certain that only she had heard. “She’s…just…fine. Please, Mrs. Bradley. I’m quite busy and I need that shaving—”

  He clicked off the intercom just in time. Neither could hold back their orgasms any longer. They pumped hard and cried out together. Tatiana fell against his heaving chest, utterly spent and completely and totally enamored.

  Which wasn’t good. But she couldn’t find the energy to care. She had a month to convince him about Harper. Couldn’t she enjoy Jack as a lover rather than an adversary just a little while longer?

  JACK COULDN’T REMEMBER the last time Harper had been angry with anyone other than himself. Yet, as he watched his sister’s stare bore into Ana from across the dinner table, he was certain that if looks could kill, his new lover would be on her way to the morgue.

  “You’re being rude,” he announced.

  Ana looked up at both of them. Concentrating on reviewing Harper’s homework as they ate, she hadn’t noticed his sister’s murderous gaze.

  “I’m sorry,” Ana said, apparently thinking his censure was meant for her. “But I wanted to make sure that—”

  “Not you,” Jack replied. “Harper. She hasn’t said a word to you since we sat down and you haven’t noticed because you’ve been helping her with her homework instead of enjoying your meal so she doesn’t have to miss her favorite television show.”

  Harper trained her hate-filled stare at him. “It’s not my fault I had to do detention after school.” Her words trailed a bit at the end when she realized how ridiculous her claim sounded.

  And still, Jack couldn’t resist.

  “Oh, then precisely whose fault was it? Because last time I checked, the school was clear on the fact that writing mathematical formulas on the bottom of your shoe so you could sneak a peek at them during a test was not acceptable behavior.”

  Harper pushed her plate away. “I’m not hungry. May I be excused?”

  Ana looked between them, utter confusion on her face.

  The honeymoon period was over.

  For two weeks following Ana’s unexpected insertion into their household, the three of them had existed in pure bliss. During the days while Harper was at school, Jack spent the mornings conducting business and the afternoons making love to his sister’s live-in tutor. Once Harper came home, Ana turned her attention completely on his sister—not only helping her with French, but checking over her history and literature studies and learning about the wonders of Google. In the evenings, the three of them enjoyed the type of rare, family-style dinners that Jack had seen only on sitcoms. Mrs. Bradley also joined them on occasion, electing to share her delicious cooking with the trio even though the older woman usually preferred to eat in her room with the television tuned to her prerecorded soap operas.

  Best of all, Harper had not mentioned the Broadway audition once. And her grades, after only fourteen days, had started to hit the A range with surprising regularity.

  In fact, everything had improved. Jack found himself not only smiling a lot more often, but whistling, too. Even his workouts resulted in higher endorphins and the attendant euphoria. Since he’d retired from the gridiron, he’d lifted weights and jogged through the bayou to burn off tension. Now, he was exercising to keep in shape and improve his flexibility.

  And until tonight, there had been very little tension left to burn off.

  “What’s your problem, Harper?” he asked, at the same time that Ana said, “Did something happen at school today?”

  Harper skewered him first. “My problem is you.” Then, she turned to Ana. “And no, nothing happened at school. Nothing ever happens at school. Nothing ever happens in my whole life. It’s day after day of nothing. Oh, just forget it!”

  She pushed away from the table, grabbed her plate and threw it into the sink with such force that Jack was sure it had shattered—he couldn’t see for sure since they’d taken to eating in the dining room rather than at the kitchen island.

  He moved to stand, but Ana laid her hand on his arm.

  “I don’t think this is about you,” she said gently, leaning forward and kissing him, injecting him with that special brand of calm that only she provided. “Let me talk to her.”

  She stood, giving him a chance to take her hand and sweep a kiss across her knuckles. “You don’t have to.”

  “Yeah,” she said with a wink. “I think I do.”

  She sauntered out of the room and since they were alone, gave her hips a little extra swing, making his entire body taut with need. She might have been new to lovemaking two weeks ago, but she’d caught on like a pro. Fearless and curious, Ana had inspired Jack to a whole new perspective on sex. Heck, she’d forced him to consider a whole new perspective on his life.

  He rose to clear the rest of the table, but his cell phone rang. Noting the caller on the LCD screen, he cursed, left the dishes and instead went into the study, shutting the door behind him.

  11

  “HEY, SEAN,” Jack greeted his caller. “What have you got for me?”

  “No more than I had last week,” the private investigator replied. “If there’s an Ana Starling who has ever been in any trouble in the United States, she’s not the one living in you
r house.”

  Jack slipped into the leather chair behind his desk and kicked his heels up. He’d called his friend, Sean Devlin, whom he’d met through his lawyer, to investigate Ana the day after they’d made love the first time. Guilt had niggled at him ever since, but while Harper was heiress to the vast St. Cloud fortune, he was worth even more. Since his forced retirement from the NFL, he’d parlayed his signing bonuses and first two years’ salary and endorsements into a massive portfolio. Although Ana struck him as extremely honest, he was pretty sure she was hiding something.

  Unfortunately, Sean had yet to dig up what it was.

  “Any avenues left for you to explore?” Jack asked.

  Sean clucked his tongue. “Man, I’ve done all the regular searches and then some. Unless she’s some sort of international spy with covert protections, she’s just a chick who happened on your isolated doorstep. From the picture you sent me from your cell phone, she’s smoking hot. You know what they say about gift horses, right?”

  Jack chuckled. “Can’t be too careful.”

  “This is true,” Sean replied. “But you’ve been the most careful dude I’ve known since you moved back to Louisiana. Wasn’t caution that got you onto the Giants’ roster, man. Or that built those bank accounts that allow you to pay me the big bucks. You should go for it.”

  “I thought PIs were supposed to be jaded when it came to relationships.”

  “I didn’t say shit about a relationship,” Sean clarified. “I just meant that she’s probably safe to nail.”

  “I never realized you were such a dog,” Jack said.

  “You could pay me in Milk-bones, brother, but I’ll settle for cash,” the investigator cracked with an unrepentant snicker before disconnecting the call.

  Well, there it was. He’d had Ana checked out as thoroughly as possible. Last week Sean had found a woman named Anna Sterling who held a British passport, but misspellings aside, he’d been unable to confirm that the woman in the picture Jack had sent him and the woman whose grainy photo was in the international database was the same person. No one named Ana Starling possessed a criminal record.