“Do you want a drink?” he asked.
She asked for a glass of wine and stood by herself as he went to get it. She longed for her camera as she glanced around the room. She wished she had the barrier that only having the camera to her eye could provide?though in her mind she knew there wasn’t enough light for any natural shots.
As she glanced around the room and saw the high-society people filling it, she started to run through different light settings in her mind, rejecting them until she came up with the right one.
“Here you go,” Jared said, handing her a glass.
She took it from him, realizing her nerves had nothing to do with the room full of strangers and everything to do with the man standing next to her.
She lifted her glass toward his and her hand shook, a little bit of wine sloshing onto the back of her hand. Jared raised one eyebrow.
“Everything okay?”
“Sure,” she said, taking a fortifying sip of wine before any more spilled.
“Thank you for coming with me tonight.”
“You’re welcome.”
Silence grew between them as all she could think about was the king-sized bed in Jared’s bedroom, that lushly decorated room where he’d stowed her suitcase when she’d arrived this afternoon.
She didn’t know why she was having a panic attack about it now, why she was thinking about the fact that the last man she’d slept with had made her feel like… she was less than a woman.
Jared never had. And his embraces had left her with the fire of desire coursing through her veins. But at this moment, none of that mattered. At the end of the evening she was going to go home with him and go to bed with him.
And the last thing she wanted was to have him look at her with disdain or disappointment. She took another swallow of her wine.
Jared’s hand came to the small of her back. He led her to a quiet alcove tucked off the ballroom, where they were alone. He took the wineglass from her and bent to set it on the floor alongside his squat whiskey glass.
“What’s up?”
She shrugged her shoulders thinking of the all the ways she didn’t want to go there. But then he put one hand on her waist and one hand so gently in her hair. He blocked her from the view of anyone who’d pass by, and made her feel safe.
“I’m not sure,” she said at last. “I think I’m nervous.”
“Don’t be. This is a charity event. After the dinner we’re going to be entertained by Elton John.”
She loved Elton John’s music. Who didn’t? But tonight not even the thought of listening to him live was enough to distract her from Jared?the press of his large body against hers, the awareness she had of the space between their bodies. When she tipped her head back and met his eyes, she saw knowledge blooming there.
“Annie, honey, nothing has to happen that you don’t want to,” he said in that deep, sure voice of his, the one that was all confidence and caring.
She felt tears sting the backs of her eyes, and wished she was the woman she’d been before her marriage. The woman who would have enjoyed the heck out of this night and been quivering with anticipation when they returned to his place.
But she wasn’t.
“I want…”
He waited.
“…you,” she said. And in a rush, before she lost her nerve, she allowed words to spill out of her mouth. She explained about Malcolm and how she’d never been responsive enough for him. How he’d said she left him cold. Lastly she said, “He used to look at me with such disdain in his eyes. I don’t want you to ever look at me like that. But I don’t know what to do to keep a man happy in bed.”
He pulled her fully into his arms, bending to capture her mouth with his. His hands swept down her back and she felt her blood begin to flow a little heavier in her veins. She felt her skin tighten and every nerve ending tingle as he caressed the expanse of skin left bare by the back of her dress.
Then he swiveled his hips, his body brushing against the center of hers, letting her feel the proof of his desire. “You don’t have to try to make me happy,” he said as he lifted his mouth from hers. “You already do.”
CHAPTER NINE
CARS HAD LONG BEEN a passion for Jared and he kept a different one in each of the houses he owned. In Daytona he’d been driving his new Aston Martin, but in Atlanta he kept his classic ’67 Jaguar. Tucker had helped him restore the car three years ago.
His house was set back from the road with a winding driveway that led up to the huge mansion. The home had belonged to his maternal grandparents and he always felt like it was still theirs, though they’d been gone for more than twenty years.
His grandfather had let him drive up this circular driveway when he’d been only fourteen. Jared chuckled remembering the experience.