Jack smiled. “Because I asked?”
“Don’t smile,” she said, nearly yelling. “Don’t you dare smile that smile at me.”
“Huh?” he said, definitely no longer smiling.
Jennifer pressed one hand to her forehead for a moment. “I’m losing it. I really am. This is insane. I don’t behave this way. What on earth is the matter with me?”
“Gotcha,” Jack said, pointing at her. “See? You do want to know what that strange spell was that came over us out there in the cold, dark night. Whatever it was is what on earth is the matter with you. Get it?”
“What I’m going to get, mister,” she said, “is a blanket for you. Then you are marching yourself out of here. Get it?”
“Got it.”
“Good.”
Jennifer nodded decisively, then left the room, returning minutes later with a blanket.
Jack burst into laughter. “You’re kidding,” he said. “You’re sending me packing wrapped in a Winnie-the-Pooh blanket?”
“You’ll be cute as a button,” she said, shoving the brightly colored blanket at him. “Goodbye.”
Jack tucked the blanket under one arm. “Okay. I’m gone. Lock up behind me.”
At the door, Jack hesitated and turned. Jennifer was right behind him; their toes were nearly touching.
“I think—” he said quietly. “I truly believe…that you have the same questions and want the same answers that I do. It’s all very confusing, don’t you think?”
“I—”
“Shh.”
Jack slid his free hand to the nape of Jennifer’s neck, lowered his head and claimed her mouth with his.
Jennifer’s eyes flew wide open in shock, but in the next instant her lashes drifted down as heat suffused her. Of their own volition her arms floated upward, then her hands encircled Jack’s neck.
She savored the feel, the taste, the wondrous sensation of Jack’s lips on hers, and offered no resistance as his tongue slipped into her mouth to seek and find her tongue.
Jack dropped the bulky blanket and gathered Jennifer close to his body, deepening the kiss as desire rocketed through him. He raised his head a fraction of an inch, then slanted his mouth in the opposite direction, drinking in the tantalizingly sweet taste of Jennifer. Heat coiled low and tight within him, arousing him almost to the point of pain.
Jennifer, his mind hummed. He’d known, just somehow known that it would be far, far more than just a simple kiss. It would be ecstasy.
Jennifer was responding to him, holding nothing back, returning his kiss with total abandon. He felt ten feet tall because Jennifer was, in this moment stolen out of time, his.
Jack groaned in pure male pleasure as he pressed Jennifer even more tightly against him, relishing the feel of her lush breasts being crushed to his chest.
Oh, his mind thundered, how he wanted her, wanted to make love with Jennifer Mackane through the remaining hours of the night.
The rumbling sound of Jack’s sensual moan penetrated the mist encasing Jennifer, bringing her back to reality with a thud, jarring her from the rosy, sensuous place she’d floated to.
She broke the kiss, jerked out of Jack’s embrace, then took a shaky step backward as she drew a steadying breath.
Jack shook his head slightly. “Whew. That was—You are…Whew.”
“That was,” Jennifer said, hearing the thread of breathlessness in her voice, “a mistake, should never have happened.”
“Why not?” Jack said, frowning. “It was sensational and equally shared.”
“I…” Jennifer started, then threw up her hands. “Yes, all right, I can’t deny that I…took part in that kiss.”
Jack smiled. “Kisses. Plural.”
“Whatever,” she said, hugging herself. “The fact remains that it—they, those kisses—were a mistake. I don’t behave like this…ever. I don’t know what came over me, but I’d appreciate it if you’d forget that this incident ever took place.”
“Incident?” he said, raising his eyebrows. “Lady, it was a happening, an event, that defies description. Forget it? No way. Are you telling me that you can honestly forget how you felt, how you responded to me?”
“Yes. No. I…Jack, please, just go. I’m embarrassed and upset and—Just leave.”
“Hey,” he said gently, “don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re a young, healthy, beautiful woman, with wants and needs that are nothing to be ashamed of. We felt it—both of us. The desire—not lust, desire. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Yes, there is,” she said, her voice rising, “because I don’t want any part of feeling that heat, that need, that…No. I have no room for all that in my life—not anymore. Not now. Not ever again.”
“Why are you doing this to yourself?” Jack said, matching her volume. “So, okay, you loved your husband, but, my God, Jennifer, it’s been five years since that man died. He wouldn’t want you to grieve for a lifetime, to cease to exist as a woman. You can’t mourn him forever.”
“You don’t understand.”
“No, I sure as hell don’t,” he said, restlessly raking a hand through his hair. “What I do understand—what I know—is that you want me as much as I want you.”
“No,” she whispered, shaking her head.
Jack sighed in exasperation, then leaned down and grabbed the blanket from the floor. “I’m leaving now, Jennifer,” he said, “but this discussion isn’t over. There’s something happening between us, and I want to know what it is. I’ll be back.”
Jack turned and left the house, closing the door with a tad more force than was necessary.
Jennifer walked to the door on trembling legs, snapped the lock into place, then rested her heated forehead on the cool, smooth wood.
Dear heaven, she thought frantically, what had she done? She’d responded to Jack’s kisses like some wanton hussy, had pressed her body to his, had felt his arousal surging full and heavy against her and had inwardly rejoiced in the knowledge that such a magnificent man wanted her. Her.
Sensuous images had flitted through her passion-laden mind of clothes disappearing by magic, of tumbling naked onto her bed and reaching eagerly for Jack, bringing him to her to fill her emptiness, to awaken her sleeping femininity with glorious lovemaking.
I’ll be back.
Jack’s fiercely spoken words echoed in her head, and she spun around, her eyes darting across the room in a near-hysterical search for somewhere to hide.
“To hide from Jack?” she said aloud, as tears stung her eyes. “No, heaven help me, to hide from myself.”
This was her fault. She wasn’t who she really was when she was with Jack. She didn’t know why—just did not know why, but she did know she would be certain never to be alone with Jack MacAllister again.
Exhaustion swept over her like a heavy curtain, and she stumbled across the room, turning off the lights as she went. A short time later she slipped into bed, a weary sigh escaping from her lips as her head touched the soft, welcoming pillow.
Sleep. She needed to sleep, to escape from the turmoil in her mind, to put hours of distance between herself and