More Than a Mistress (7 page)

Sara looked in the same direction as his gaze and turned back to him with an overly bright smile and flushed cheeks. “Not really. I was just testing my Christmas presents.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Wine and chocolate?”

“I happen to like wine and chocolate,” she said a little defensively as she stepped over the gate into the kitchen. “Not everyone in the Western Hemisphere gets up at the crack of dawn on Christmas morning and eats a huge breakfast and then eats a huge dinner.”

“I didn't say they did.”

She snatched the frozen turkey dinner off the floor, and before she could shove it into the freezer, Daniel took it from her hands and stared at her. If possible, she looked even more embarrassed than before. Bringing his libido and ego to heel, he tried to make sense of the situation.

He noticed there was only one turkey dinner, but he had to make sure. “I see one wineglass. Does that mean there was only one person drinking wine and eating chocolates when I rang your doorbell?” The image of feeding her chocolates raced through his mind and heated his blood.

Confusion clouded her wide eyes. “I—yes.”

Daniel felt a rush of relief and put the turkey dinner into the freezer. “I'm always interested in other people's holiday customs. Just out of curiosity, what time did you get up this morning?”

Sara hesitated, frowning. “Ten-thirty, but—”

Daniel shook his head, remembering that he'd been up at six. “So this is Sara's version of Christmas. Sleeping in, then Perry Como, wine and chocolates.”

Sara stiffened. Her eyes flashed with anger. “I really don't appreciate—”

Daniel covered her mouth with his hand. He'd waited too long to touch her, so he plunged his other hand through the knot of silky hair on her head. “I just want to know if I can buy a ticket for next year.”

Sara jerked her head back. “You haven't slept late a single day in your life.”

“That's not true. I had the flu four years ago and didn't get up for three days.”

Sara looked at the ceiling in mock disgust. “You wouldn't know what to do in bed past seven a.m.”

Daniel gently pressed her back against the refrigerator. “Between the chocolates, wine and you, I think I'd come up with something.”

Sara bit her lip. “Get your hand out of my hair.”

“You want me to put it somewhere else?” he murmured next to her ear. She wiggled against him, and Daniel nearly groaned. She always made him feel a raw edge of hunger. Why had he waited so long to appease his curiosity about this woman?

“Daniel—”

He gave in to one of his many cravings and kissed the chocolate smudge on her chin. “You know, Sara, I'm really hurt that you didn't invite me over for your holiday celebration.”

“I thought,” she said, swallowing and turning her head, “you'd be busy with your family.”

Daniel ran his lips over her exposed neck. “So I missed breakfast. And it's already time for lunch. If I asked very nicely,” he began, but got distracted by the taste of her skin.

Sara's hands hovered over his shoulders. Then, as if her resistance caved in, she dropped her hands to his chest. “Asked what?”

Daniel lowered his mouth to hers. The flavors of wine, chocolate and Sara mingled and went straight to his head. He pulled away and was gratified to see her shortness of breath. “If I asked very nicely, would you join me for lunch?”

“I'm not dressed.”

He lowered his mouth and suckled her lower lip. “I'll help you.”

Her throaty laugh had the same effect as a stroke from her hand on his groin. She opened her mouth and gave him a kiss that made him feel as if he'd finally gotten every Christmas present he'd ever wanted. When his hands wandered to the deep V of her robe, she pulled back. Her eyes were hazy with desire. “Sorry you missed breakfast,” she said in a husky voice.

“Does that mean yes to lunch?”

Sara's lips curved into a generous smile. “I guess you talked me into it.” She eased away from him and turned toward the hall. “Give me ten minutes.”

Daniel clasped her wrist. “I said I'd help.”

“No.” She wiggled her hand free. “Help yourself to the wine and chocolates while you wait.”

Daniel took her suggestion, and when he sampled her gifts, he learned who the senders were. The notion that other men were vying for her attention didn't sit well, especially since he'd neglected to get her anything. Even Carly's note irritated him, making him wonder where Sara would go for her vacation and if she would invite someone to go with her.

 

Forty-five minutes later Sara and Daniel walked into the Pendleton home. All conversation between six brothers, a couple of spouses, a few dates and several family friends ceased, and Sara was immediately bombarded by greetings.

“Sara!”

“Glad you could make it.”

“We wondered when you'd get here.”

Feeling a little overwhelmed, she gulped, said, “Merry Christmas!” then headed for refuge in the kitchen.

Carly was there checking the thermometer on the turkey in the oven. “Fifteen minutes,” she called out to the group.

“Did you fix all this food?” Sara asked as she looked at the array of dishes set on the counter.

“Oh, no. Erin brought a few things, but I picked up double sizes of most of the casseroles from the grocery deli.” Carly put down her oven mitts and hugged Sara. “I'm really glad you could come. I was afraid you wouldn't.”

Her heart caught at the sincerity in Carly's voice. Sara truly was lucky to have such a friend. “I should have brought something.”

Carly pulled away, her lips twitching. “You didn't have much time to fix anything, did you?”

“No. You didn't have to do this. Daniel said you'd sent him.”

Carly arched an eyebrow. “Oh, really? I was on my way out the door when he suggested we flip a coin for the privilege of picking you up.” She made a face. “He was in charge of flipping the coin, and I think he cheated. He didn't torture you or anything, did he?”

Sara felt blood rush to her face. Did Daniel's kisses constitute torture? “Daniel's not the kind to torture.”

Carly shook her head and grinned. “You're being polite. I can tell by the tone of your voice.”

“Who's being polite?” Daniel asked as he stepped into the room. He took a celery stick and stood beside Sara.

“Sara,” Carly answered. “I asked her if you'd tortured her into coming today.”

“Oh, yeah.” Grinning, Daniel slid his hand into Sara's hair and gave one lock a little tug. “What did she say?”

Sara watched Carly open her mouth and decided to answer for herself. “I said you weren't the type to torture.” She couldn't decide if she liked the glint in his eyes or not. She did know, however, that she liked his hands in her hair entirely too much. “
Torturer
isn't the right word.”

“Then what's the right word?” Carly asked, clearly enjoying the exchange. “Make it a good one, like
arrogant.
”

Sara nodded, still meeting the challenge in Daniel's gaze. “Maybe.”

“Gorgeous?”
Daniel offered.

Sara bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Perhaps.”

“Egotistical,”
Carly suggested.

“Yes,” Sara said without hesitation.

Irritation narrowed Daniel's eyes. He gave her hair another little secret tug.
“Irresistible.”

“We'll see.” Sara watched Daniel's eyes darken, and smiled. “You've both got great suggestions, but the word I was thinking describes both you and Carly.

Two pairs of violet eyes widened in amazement. “What?” Carly and Daniel demanded.

Sara laughed.
“Pushy.”

Just as Daniel and Carly recovered enough to respond, the timer went off. Literally saved by the bell, Sara thought.

Daniel gave her a glare that managed to combine threat with sensual promise. “We'll continue this later,” he growled.

Sara made a tsking sound. “Pushy. Pushy.”

He bent low to her ear. “Honey, what you've seen from me is patient, not pushy.”

“Should I have used the term
overly assertive
instead?” she asked in a whisper. “Did you know that the first three letters in
assertive
—”

He put his thumb over her lips. “You've got a busy mouth.”

Daniel could make Sara forget too easily all her resolutions about being conservative and not flirting or teasing. Staying out of trouble didn't seem to be an option when it came to him. “You don't like it?” she challenged.

He shook his head. “I didn't say that. I can just think of better uses for it.”

So can I.
Holding Daniel's gaze for a long while, she swallowed her rejoinder. Someone cleared his throat, and Sara jerked her head around to find Troy staring in amusement. At that moment she would have traded a box of Godiva chocolates for a paper bag to put over her head.

Carly, God bless her, announced the turkey was ready, and she was nearly stampeded by her brothers. Everyone filled their plates, then took a seat at the huge dinner table. Daniel, at the head of the table, offered the blessing.

Sara, ensconced between Jarod and Troy, felt the return of underlying uneasiness about being among the Pendletons during this special holiday. They all seemed so comfortable with each other. They all seemed to belong. Sara knew she didn't.

She was an intruder, she realized, as she listened to the different conversations and watched the family. Somebody asked Luke about one of his pet chickens while Carly cut the little boy's meat into small bites. Daniel offered Russ the butter and started a discussion about the effects of the flood, and Brick, Ethan and Nathan were discussing a camping trip they'd taken last summer. Erin seemed a little withdrawn until Garth wrapped a supportive arm around her and whispered something in her ear. Her mouth lifted in a grin.

Sara looked away and tried to concentrate on her food.

“How's the pup?” Troy asked.

Sara started, then smiled. “Wet, loud and adorable.”

“Strange combination,” he said, shaking his head.

At the friendly overture, Sara relaxed a bit. Jarod asked about how she liked Beulah County, and they soon got into a discussion on the different hangouts in Chattanooga, since Jarod had lived there during his college years.

“You don't have a Southern accent,” Jarod observed. “Is your family from Chattanooga?”

Sara felt a sliver of discomfort. “My former husband was.”

“Oh, that's right,” Jarod said. “Where do your parents live?”

Everyone seemed to take a breather from talking at that particular moment, and with the exception of the sound of silverware meeting china, the room was silent.

Sara cleared her throat and glanced around to find several people looking at her expectantly. She felt horribly awkward. “They, uh, used to live in Minnesota. They're dead now,” she added more quietly.

Jarod faltered. “Well, I stepped right into that one. I'm sorry. Sounds like you have something in common with us,” he said, referring to the fact that both Pendleton parents were dead.

Sara darted a quick look at Daniel. His inscrutable expression did nothing to alleviate her anxiety. “A little bit in common,” she said lamely, in an effort to help Jarod feel better. That they were all human beings was about all she had in common with the Pendletons, she supposed. Jarod's remark only served to emphasize that fact, and Sara abruptly identified where her underlying uneasiness originated. She'd thought she was uncomfortable around the Pendletons because she wasn't a member of their family, but that was only part of it.

The truth of the matter was that among these connected, loving people, Sara Jean Kingston felt like a complete fraud.

 

One more try, Sara thought, as she stirred the simmering beef tips. She wore the same pink sweater, same winter-white slacks as last time. At five fifty-five the doorbell rang. Pavi barked from behind the laundry-room door. Sara ignored him. She refused to dodge his puddles during this meal!

She opened the front door, and Daniel's tension rolled over her like a wave. He wore a suit and a wary, careful expression on his face. He tentatively offered the bunch of violets in his hand. “These okay?”

Her heart turned a flip. Despite a jab of embarrassment over her reaction when he'd given her a rose, Sara smiled and accepted the gift. He was uncomfortable, and if there was one thing she'd learned, it was how to put a man at ease. For once she knew what to do with Daniel Pendleton. “Violets are wonderful.” She took his hand and pulled him into the room. “And you look great.”

“I'm overdressed,” he grumbled, wishing he'd worn something more casual.

“I like your tie.”

“You can have it.” He tugged it loose and followed her into the kitchen, appreciating the sight of her great rear end. He wondered how long he could watch and refrain from touching.

Sara laughed. “Relax. Take off your jacket and shoes. This is just a rain-check dinner with Sara Kingston.”

Daniel was anything but relaxed. He was wound up so tight from arousal, anticipation and tension, he felt crazed. He shook his head. “This is the beginning of my forbidden affair with a wild woman.”

Sara stopped in the midst of putting the flowers in a vase. Had he offended her? Then she smiled, an almost taunting smile.

“We'll see,” she said noncommittally. “Beer or wine?”

“Beer,” he replied. Her comment ate at him. “What do you mean, ‘we'll see'?”

Sara popped the top on the beer and handed it to him. “Just what I said. We'll see. We've got lots to do. You've got to drink this beer. Then we've got to eat dinner, and you'll have to tell me how wonderful it was. Then we eat dessert and—”

“Lady, give me a break.”
Daniel meant it. He knew he was coming across as smooth as a rough ride on a bronco, but he had to know how to gear himself. Every fiber of his male being said skip the food and take the woman.

Sara gave a sigh. She stepped closer, and Daniel felt his pulse throb in every erogenous zone in his body. She shook her head and pulled off his tie. “You really need to relax. Sit down and let me tell you what I bought today.”

“Sara—”

“Just listen.” She pulled out a chair and gave him a nudge. When he didn't move, she glared at him. Daniel sat down, resigned to be driven straight up the wall.

She pushed off his jacket. “I went to the new department store today. They have a great cosmetics section.”

She began to rub his shoulders, and the sensation of her fingers on his tight muscles made the inane conversation more bearable. “Good?” she asked.

He gave an appreciative groan.

Sara laughed, and the husky sound was another reminder of another discomfort he wished she'd take care of.

“I don't suppose you frequent the cosmetics department,” she continued.

“Not lately,” he said dryly.

“Cosmetics companies know how to go for the jugular. Women can be tempted by claims of how much all these products can do for them. For example, my new lipstick…”

She sifted her fingers through the hair on his nape until Daniel was sure every nerve ending in his body was standing at attention. Surprisingly enough, her new lipstick teased his imagination. “What about it?”

“It's called…”

He heard the hesitation in her voice and turned. “What?”

She unfastened the top button of his shirt, her hazel eyes focused on his neck. “‘Sensual.' The company promises that it will stay on my lips until I take it off. I can't drink it off. I can't eat it off. And you,” she said finally lifting her sultry, challenging gaze to his, “can't kiss it off.”

She put her thumb on his bottom lip, and Daniel felt his mouth go desert dry. Her scent wrapped around his senses. He noticed how the V-neck of the sweater she wore revealed just a hint of cleavage. Nestled on a long chain between her breasts, where he'd like to put his mouth, was a cluster of pearls.
Punch. Punch. Punch.
One more and he'd be down for the count. He cleared his throat.

Sara dampened her lips with her tongue.

Boom. That was it. He tumbled her into his lap. “I could dedicate myself to a whole night of disproving that kind of claim.”

“Is that so?”

He kissed the corner of her mouth, just to tease her as she'd been teasing him. Her swift intake of breath was gratifying. “You know how it is with the oldest son. A hardworking overachiever type like me won't stop till the job is done.”

He wrapped his hands around her waist, lowered his head and covered her mouth with his. He settled his lips first one way then another, the better to smudge her lipstick. Or was it because he wanted intimate knowledge of every centimeter of her lips?

At her soft sigh he forgot the game and dipped his tongue past her teeth, savoring her flavor. He felt a rush of satisfaction when her hands crawled up and clung to his shoulders and her breasts rubbed enticingly against his chest. Her tongue coupled with his, thrusting, dancing, and Daniel thought he could spend the next hour just kissing her.

He probably would have if she hadn't pulled back. Swaying, Sara visibly caught her breath and ran her not-so-steady index finger around his mouth. “Not yet,” she said, looking a little stunned.

Daniel swallowed. “Not yet what?”

“You haven't kissed off my lipstick.”

Daniel looked at her stall-tinted lips. “Well, hell, give me another minute or two—”

Sara shook her head and stood on shaky legs. “Drink your beer while I serve dinner.”

Daniel thought pouring the beer over his head would be more effective. “Dinner?” He caught her hand.

She nodded slowly, her eyes still hazy. “Remember,” she said, gently prying his fingers off hers. “Getting there's half the fun.”

The meal passed in an ebb and flow of excruciating anticipation. Just when he relaxed, Sara would do something like lick her lips or fiddle with the necklace that lay between her breasts, and Daniel would start feeling crazy all over again.

“Dessert okay?” Sara asked.

Daniel didn't have to put much effort into appreciating the chocolate mousse topped with whipped cream and raspberries. “Delicious. Where'd you learn how to make it?”

Sara's gaze went shuttered. She set her spoon into her bowl. “I, uh, took cooking lessons a long time ago. Someone gave me the lessons as a present with the agreement that I prepare a meal for him when I completed the course.” She picked up her wine and took a deep drink. “I forgot most of the recipes, but I guess the chocolate mousse stuck.” She gave a wry, forced smile. “The way it sticks to the hips.”

The joke was weak, and Daniel found himself wondering about the shadows that came and went in Sara's eyes at odd moments. She'd let him know that she wasn't pure. The knowledge didn't put him off. Instead it excited him, made him feel free. But tonight, he thought, rubbing a finger over his lip, he didn't like the man who'd paid for the cooking lessons because Daniel suspected there'd been more than one meal involved. That relationship had obviously made her sad. And Daniel didn't want to make Sara sad. He wanted to make her smile. He wanted to hear her laugh. He wanted a lot.

Leaning across the table, he scooped some dessert onto her spoon and lifted it to her mouth. “I like the way it sticks to your hips.”

Sara fluttered her eyelids in disbelief. “Right.” But she opened her mouth and let him feed her.

“I do,” he insisted. “And I ought to know, since I've spent a lot of time watching your—”

Sara swallowed, shaking her head. “Daniel—”

He pushed another spoonful past her lips. “Did you know that your rear end is perfectly heart shaped? Of course I've had to conduct this study from a distance, but if I set my mind to it, I could come up with your hip measurement.”

Sara lifted her hand in alarm. “Please don't. You've already guessed my weight. That's enough.”

“For who?” He clasped her wrist and tugged, bringing her out of her chair and into his lap.

“For both of us?” Her heart hammering against her ribs, Sara watched unequivocal determination flare in Daniel's eyes.

“I drank my beer. I ate the meal, and it was wonderful. Dessert was delicious. Getting here's been half fun and half torture. I need to get back to work on smudging your lipstick. I need to figure out your hip measurement.” His lips lifted in a lazy, sexy smile that made her breath catch. “I don't plan on leaving here until I figure out exactly how your body fits together.”

He clasped her waist, then boldly worked his big hands down to her hips and lower still to her thighs. The tension inside her grew tighter and tighter, spreading to vulnerable feminine places he hadn't touched.

“And how it's gonna fit with mine.”

Sara leaned her head against his solid chest and moaned. “Oh, Daniel. I knew you'd be a horrible tease,” she whispered.

“I'm not teasing, honey. I'm promising.” He shifted her in his arms, stood and carried her down the hall. “Which way?”

No man had ever carried her, she thought, swallowing over a lump in her throat. The chivalrous gesture nearly rendered her speechless. “Right.”

He kissed her at the same time that he let her body slide down the front of his until her toes touched the floor. His tongue eased into her mouth, and her bones began to melt. One of his hands slipped under her sweater to the small of her back, while the other went to her bottom and pulled her to him. He rocked against her in a heady rhythm that sent sensation pooling into her nether regions.