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I took a deep breath and grimaced when I got a whiff of Darling. “Please tell me that I am not here to facilitate a booty call.”
Debra clapped her hands together and took a step back. “As much as I would love to stay and watch this, I have work to do. Jillian, don’t freak out with Silva. I’ll come back and check on you in a little bit.”
“Check on me? Check on me doing what?” I asked, but she was already marching away. I did not want to be alone with Brendan.
When I turned back around, the man I wanted to avoid was right next to me. With a yelp of surprise, I stumbled away, and he quickly caught me by the arms. “You’re jumpy this morning,” he murmured. “Did you have an interesting night?”
“My nights are none of your business.” I jerked away. Just the slightest touch from him had a way of heating my blood. “Can we just focus on whatever it is that you expect me to do here?”
“All work and no play,” he whispered and didn’t move away. “You didn’t join me for breakfast.”
I shifted uncomfortably. There were hooks digging into my back. “I slept in late.”
“Why? Did you have trouble sleeping last night? I know that I sure as hell did.”
I blamed my dreams. There was no other reason why I didn’t stop him when he dipped his head to kiss me. There was no other reason why my heart was beating a mile a minute or why I was wet in all the inappropriate places. The dreams and the fact that no one had satisfied me like he had.
His lips touched mine, and I immediately opened to him. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pressed my body against his and moaned. As his tongue stroked mine, his hands roamed my body and he pulled me away from the wall. He devoured me as he lifted me up in the air. As he sat in a chair, I straddled him and immediately rubbed up against him. Even through his jeans and mine, I could feel his erection pressing up against me, and I wanted it.
A switch flipped inside me, and I was running on the fuel of desire. It was so easy to give in to him. It felt so natural to do this.
“That’s my girl,” he whispered as his lips moved down my neck. “I knew you were in there somewhere. Let me touch you, Jillian. Please.”
I didn’t fight him as he leaned me back and lowered the straps of my shirt and pulled my bra strap down with it. My nipple hit the crisp morning air, but it wasn’t long before his hot breath was warming it. “I’ve missed these.”
I’ve missed you.
The words were on the tip of my tongue, and I moaned as his lips wrapped around me. Running my fingers through his hair, I urged him closer. I wanted him. I needed him. Right here and right now.
Pulling me up again, he ran his hands down my body, and when he lifted the hem of my shirt, his knuckles brushed against the bare skin of my abdomen.
“You’re pregnant?” he whispered in wonder as he lowered himself to his knees. “Really?”
I’d been so concerned about how he would react, but as he lifted the shirt and pressed his lips to my belly, I knew that I had nothing to worry about. He was going to love this child. He was going to be the perfect father.
“No.” Stung by the painful memory, I pushed him away and stumbled off his lap. Turning to the stall door, I pulled the straps back up and righted myself. “I can’t do this. I just… I can’t.”
Before he could protest, I turned and ran, but I knew that I couldn’t run from my desire for my husband, and I couldn’t hide from the past.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Brendan
A week passed, and I saw no signs of Harry. I was grateful. Jillian and I weren’t off to a great start. After the incident in the stable, she avoided me like the plague. I never saw her at breakfast, and while she was always at the dinner table, our conversations were tense and short.
We tube-fed Silva for a few days. This was supposed to be the first day without a tube. I stopped to check on him before lunch, and to my surprise, Jillian was sitting in a chair outside his stable, talking to him.
Not talking. Reading to him from her cell phone. “Juvenile. Can you believe that? Just because I don’t want someone to need a dictionary to read my dissertation doesn’t mean my language is juvenile. I want my ideas to be relatable to everyone and not just a bunch of stuffy shirts who are more concerned about their reputation in the academic world rather than helping other people.”
