The Heiress by CATHY GILLEN THACKER Read Free Book Online Page B

and ephemerally, until something wonderful was happening to her, something beyond her control. And yet, even as he spread her thighs and prepared to enter her, she wasn’t afraid. She could feel his iron control as he entered her with aching slowness, kissing her all the while, letting her body adjust to the size and pulsing heat of him.
    He took his time possessing her, lifting her hips in his hands, adjusting the angle of penetration until it was just so, until she was kissing him back madly and rocking urgently in rhythm with him. Until he was reaching that sought-after inner place, the one guaranteed to send a woman over the edge. And he did, Daisy thought as she moaned softly and shattered and fell apart in his ever-so-capable hands.
    Seconds later, Jack followed in a blissful, overpowering rush of sensation and the two of them collapsed together, breath still coming rapidly. Unhappily, though, the physical release did little to ease the deeply lonely and conflicted way Daisy was feeling inside. Too late, she realized, even having a fling with an accomplished lover would do nothing to make her forget or feel better. Oh, Jack knew the moves, all right. He couldeven make her come, without half trying, which was something no one else had ever even come close to doing, but he couldn’t touch her heart or her soul. And without that, Daisy realized sadly, there really was no connection. Not one that meant a damn anyway. Once again, Daisy mused as she extricated her body from Jack’s and curled onto her side, facing away from him, she was adrift and alone. She knew who she was now, where she’d come from. She’d even made love with a man successfully. But sadly, nothing of importance in her life had changed.
     
    T OM SLEPT very little during the night. At 6:00 a.m., he finally got up and shaved, showered and dressed. Going down to the kitchen, he found Theresa getting a tray of lemon-blueberry muffins out of the oven. He nodded at the sugary confection. “Pack a half dozen or so of those in a paper bag for me, please.”
    Theresa did as he asked and handed it to him wordlessly. Relieved his longtime housekeeper was sensitive enough to appear not to recall what had happened the night before, Tom murmured his thanks and walked out to his Jaguar.
    Banking on the fact that Grace had been no more able to rest than he, given the tumultuous turn their lives had taken, Tom drove the short distance through the downtown Historic District of residential homes to the single house Grace had leased from their daughter-in-law, Lauren. As usual, parking in the area was limited. It took him a while to find a space. When he did, he doubled back to her place, saw a light on upstairs and what looked to be movement behind the lacy white curtains. Feeling more confident now—that his ex-wife was not only awake but up, he took his cell phone outof his pocket and dialed. Grace picked up on the second ring. Working to conceal his uneasiness, he said, “It’s me. I’m on the front stoop.”
    He stepped back so she could see him. Saw the curtains part. He lifted the bag of muffins and continued speaking quietly into the phone. “I brought breakfast. We need to talk, Grace.”
    “Tom…” Just one word. Her reluctance was evident.
    Refusing to take no for an answer, Tom said, “Come to the door, Grace,” and severed the connection before she could argue further.
    Seconds later, he saw a slender silhouette coming down the stairs through the frosted glass on either side of the portal. The lock turned and the door opened. Grace was in a satin robe and, it appeared, to Tom’s discomfort, little else. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips unusually red, almost chapped. “This isn’t a good time.”
    It was a perfect time, Tom disagreed silently, aware all over again how sexy Grace was when she had just tumbled out of bed, with her hair mussed and her eyes still soft with slumber. Their divorce had done nothing to limit his desire for her. Tom