Seeing Red (27 page)

“Fine, I won’t say anything. By the way, we saw the
invite on the counter to the island. You’re going, right?”

That was another issue Jill wanted to avoid.
Everything had surfaced all at once. “I just opened it. I don’t
think I’m going.”

“Why not?” Heather asked. “It sounds like fun. I can
be your plus one.”

“My life is here now. I don’t need to relive those
years or start having to answer a million questions or give a
speech.”

“I think you should go.” Oliver said and Heather
quickly agreed.

“Nope, I’m not going. Case closed. I don’t want to
talk about it anymore.”

“Case isn’t closed. It’s been a long day. We’ll
revisit this some other time. I’m going home to deal with
Alexander, who’s already calling me, but I want you to know
something. I may not be as intense as my brother, but I hope you
know that I don’t like this thing with Paul either. You know how I
feel about you, and I’ll respect the decisions that you make, but I
had hoped you would have made a different decision, Jillian. You’re
breaking my heart.” He bent over and gave Jill a kiss on the cheek
and then one to Heather, “It was nice meeting you, Heather. You can
be my plus one if Jill decides to take the asshole.”

“Good night, sugar.” Heather waved him off.

Jill and Heather were left standing in the living
room. Heather turned to Jill. “Wow, I can actually feel the sexual
tension in the room. That was a lot of testosterone in one room.
You must have done something really good in a past life. Bless your
heart.”

“God, they are so good-looking, aren’t they?”

“And intense.”

“If Jack the Ripper had been standing at the door at
that very moment that Alexander knocked, he would have been more
welcomed.” They both laughed.

“It was intimidating, Jill.” She laughed.

“A comedy of errors is what it was.” Jill sighed,
and, suddenly, all the nervous energy turned into a fit of giggles.
They started laughing uncontrollably at the absurdity of the
situation. After a few minutes of uncontrollable laughter, Paul
came out of the room and asked with a smile, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. Just girl talk. Thanks for dinner, Paul.
It was delicious.”

“No problem. So are you up for tomorrow?”

“Yes, absolutely, I’m going to pack and get ready
for bed.”

“Okay. I’ll go so that you can get your things done.
Good night, sweetie. See you tomorrow.” He leaned and gave her a
warm kiss on the cheek and left.

“Do you need help?” Heather asked.

“Nah, I’m fine.”

“Okay, then, I’m going to bed. G’night, sugar.”

“G’night, Heather.”

“Oh, and, Jill, don’t forget to shave and get
prettied up. I think you’re going to get lucky this weekend with
the Naughty Professor.” She laughed on her way into her bedroom.
Jill contemplated that. She knew that the trip was most likely a
ruse to get her into his bed. She also knew that he had been very
patient with her and had not pushed her too far. In fact, he had
been a perfect gentleman. She wanted to sleep with him. He could be
overbearing at times, but he was also sweet and gorgeous, made her
knees weak, and, apparently, was even her boyfriend. It was
definitely time to move the relationship up a notch. Shaving was
top on her “to-do” list.

By mid-morning the next day, Jill was in the front
seat of Paul’s convertible, wearing a hat to keep her hair under
control during the two-hour drive to the cottage that he had
rented. They drove in relative silence. He held her hand most of
the ride and absentmindedly caressed the inside of her wrist. Jill
made a concerted effort to keep the twins away from her thoughts.
This romantic getaway with Paul was exactly what she needed. Or was
it sex that she needed? It had been a long time, and all the sexual
tension between the twins and Paul had her wound up—and sex with
the twins would never happen.

Ever.

Never ever.

Although, they admittedly starred in most of her
fantasies.

Jill decided that if she were going to have a real
relationship with Paul she would have to be honest with him. She
was going to tell him about Rocco and the visions and all the
skeletons that lay in her closet. He deserved to know, and she
wouldn’t want him to be caught off guard or scared if she had one
of her spells while they were alone. This was going to be a pivotal
weekend.

“You like the cabin, sweetheart?”

“It’s lovely, Paul. Very cozy.”

“I’m glad you like it. There’s only one bedroom, and
I know we haven’t slept together yet, so I can sleep on the couch
if it makes you uncomfortable to share a bed with me. I don’t want
to rush you into anything.”
God, this guy says all the right
things. He was textbook. It was . . . weird!

Emboldened, Jill dropped her purse on the floor
right next to her and leaped up into Paul’s arms. He was caught off
guard and almost fell back until her lips were on his. “I don’t
want you to sleep on the couch, Paul. She spoke into his mouth as
they kissed.

“Oh, thank God! This was going to be a long,
torturous weekend otherwise.”

He walked forward onto the couch, gently laying her
under him, his hands on her face cupping her cheeks and kissing her
tenderly and with something similar to love seeping into her mouth.
She felt it. She knew how he felt about her. He didn’t try to
pretend it wasn’t there. He was a man—a real man—one that didn’t
play games or toy with her emotions, and he would love her the way
she deserved to be loved. It was because of that, that Jill felt he
was deserving of her—fully.

She felt embarrassed at her boldness because if she
knew one thing, it was that Paul was experienced and assertive.
He’d know how to make love to a woman and how to seduce a woman,
and she was putty in his arms.

“Paul, I have to tell you something.”

He kept his lips planted on her lips, moving down to
her neck. “Yes?” His hands were moving gently under her shirt,
rubbing her breast over the lace of her bra while he kissed her
lower and lower.

“It’s been a while. I, um . . . I don’t . . . I just
. . .”

He stopped and looked at her, “What is it,
Jill?”

“I’m not very experienced. I’m not sure if I’m ready
to—”

Paul interrupted her. Obviously, he could see she
was nervous. “Sweetheart, nothing you do will ever disappoint me.
Just relax. We’ll take it slow. I didn’t bring you here for sex. I
just want to spend some time with you alone and get to know you
better.”

God, did he read the book on being the perfect
man?
It was unnerving. And with that final word, he kissed her.
But the kiss was a little awkward. She put it aside in her mind’s
eye, blaming her nerves and not Paul.

Starting at the base of her neck and slowly, very
slowly, working his way down to the swells of her breasts, he took
his time kissing her gently, as if she were breakable. She felt
cherished for the first time ever, even though the actual feel of
his touch continued to feel a little uncomfortable. As he worked
his tongue around her navel, he unhooked the button of her jeans,
unzipped them, and slowly peeled them off. Then he moved back up
her body, his tongue leading the way, and removed her shirt until
she was just in a white lace bra and panties and was a ball of raw
sexual nerves.

He didn’t undress right away, which she found odd;
instead, he scooped her up and walked her to the bedroom, gently
placing her on the bed. He then took off his shirt, more hastily
than he had done with her clothes, and was on top of her again. She
was surprised to see an intricate tattoo that went from the top of
his ribs to his oblique muscle. It was out of character. She
couldn’t make out exactly what it was, but it looked like an eagle
and flag—something someone from the military would have tattooed.
He was such a puzzle: an intellectual and the epitome of chivalry
one second, a tyrant with a detailed tattoo running along the side
of his body the next. This sent smoke signals down her spine. Red
flags were everywhere. She couldn’t pinpoint what was
off
,
but something was not right. She stiffened, suddenly feeling
uncomfortable.

“You okay?” He asked. She nodded, unable to form
words. “Good because I’m just getting started.” He joined her hands
on either side of her face—very tenderly. He kissed her mouth, jaw,
neck, and, moving lower to her breast, her nipples. Meanwhile,
World War Three was playing out in her head.
He seems to know
what he’s doing; yet something feels wrong. What’s with the tattoo?
It’s so out of character. I shouldn’t do this. Oh, God, it feels so
good. So damn good. But it feels so wrong too. It’s been so long.
I’m probably just nervous. Suck it up, Jill. This man is good. He’s
what you need. Are all these thoughts because of the twins? Damn
it—these twins are interrupting my sex life now!

He let go with one of his hands and slid it down the
contour of her body—like a blind man making a memory—obviously
oblivious to the battle going on in her mind. His hands slowly
slipped into her panties. She was so turned on she felt as if she
would explode, yet she just couldn’t go any further.
No. This
wasn’t about the twins at all. This was about Paul. He was too
over-the-top. Too intense. Do I really even know him?
Jill
pushed up on her elbows and took a deep breath. His fingers had
already traveled low enough on her body that if she parted her legs
just a sliver, he’d be inside her.
Stop!
“Stop! I can’t. I’m
sorry.”

His jaw tightened, and he flipped onto his back next
to her. His chest moved up and down as he took ragged breaths.
“It’s fine.”

“Paul, I’m sorry.” She reached out to touch his
shoulder, but he flinched. It was almost unnoticeable, but it was
there: a flinch.
See there it is. There is something about him.
I’m glad I stopped.
It might as well have been a slap in the
face. “I’m just not ready.”

“That’s fine, Jillian. I understand. Just give me a
second to catch my breath. I’m going to take a cold shower, and
then I’ll make dinner.” He didn’t look at her as he spoke or when
he got up from the bed and headed to the shower. Jill felt
terrible. She felt like a tease, but she wouldn’t just sleep with
him out of a sense of obligation. She refused to feel guilty. She
needed to get to know him, and the intense kisses and possible
mind-blowing sex weren’t going to cloud her judgment.

Being with Paul was great. He exuded tenderness and
maybe even something akin to love. Based on the kissing, she knew
that sex with Paul would be great. Although she couldn’t help but
compare this kiss—and probably every kiss she had for the rest of
her life—to that crazed kiss Alexander had stolen that night
Thanksgiving weekend. But the emotion behind Paul’s kisses
overshadowed Alexander’s because she could see the love in Paul’s
eyes, even with all the awkwardness in this bout of kissing. She
hadn’t felt this weirdness with him before, and she was just going
to write it off as nerves—on both their parts. But with Alexander,
all she saw in his eyes was lust and a one-night stand, and that
was not something she was in the market for.

The next few days in the cabin consisted of watching
movies, talking endlessly, Paul cooking wonderful meals, and making
out. Yes, making out, just like teenagers. A few times she almost
threw caution to the wind and made the move to sleep with him, but
he didn’t press the matter, and, truthfully, the awkwardness was
still there. But being with him—just being—was what she did, and it
felt good.

The day before they were leaving, while having
dinner, Paul took Jill’s hand, kissed the inside of her palm and
said, “You don’t have to say it, sweetheart, but I feel that I have
to say it because I can’t hold it in any longer. I love you. I love
you so much. You’re perfect and beautiful and you’re mine. I hope
you know that. But you’re so closed off, Jillian. I feel like
you’re always on the brink of telling me something but are too
afraid to. I want to get to know you. All of you.”
So
perceptive!

Jill didn’t know if it was because he had just said
those three little words and she felt compelled to reciprocate it
or if it was because she actually felt love for him or if it was
the wine—and there had been a lot of wine—but at that moment, she
said, “Paul, I love you too.”
I think.
Surely, she would
love him eventually. He looked so happy that she was glad she had
said it, and even if the feeling wasn’t completely there just yet,
it would come along eventually. It had to.
It had to!
And
that awkwardness, it would surely pass. He was perfect, how could
she not fall in love with him.

“Paul, you’re right. I haven’t been completely
honest with you. I hope what I’m about to tell you doesn’t send you
running. I didn’t tell you before because it’s weird. I’m
weird.”

Paul chuckled. “Weird? I don’t think anything you
tell me will lead me to believe you’re weird. Tell me. I’m not
going to run anywhere.”

Jillian closed her eyes for a moment, and when she
opened them she told him everything. She told him about Onion
Island and about her psychic visions. She left out the journals and
Rocco because she was still nervous about what it even meant and if
it was, in fact, a dangerous situation. But she did tell him about
Helen and the others on the island and her relationship throughout
the years with the twins. She needed him to understand why they
were important to her. That was critical. That was a deal breaker.
She knew he was a jealous man, but she would never stop being
friends with her twins. Ever.

It felt great to share that with him, and he looked
pleased that she had opened herself up in this way. He asked a
million questions, all of which she answered. He was fascinated and
genuinely interested in her abilities and didn’t seem weirded out
by it. He asked about her parents again, and she told him that her
mother, Esther, died in the plane crash and that she didn’t know
her father, which was true—technically. They almost made love that
night, but something was still holding her back. She couldn’t
pinpoint it, but she just couldn’t take that last final step with
him yet.