Page 19 of Jonathan

“Well.” She tried for brisk, tried to appear as if she was not extremely affected. She needed clothing – she need to cover herself up and get him out of her space.

She need time to think and process what had just happened. “I should get some sleep. And I am sure you have to get going.” She started to move away only to have him clamp his hand on her upper arm.

“I am not done. We’re not done.”

She did not want to look at him. His hard lean body had played complete havoc on hers and her mind was still somewhere she could not find.

“Look…” That was as far as she got. Hauling her on top of him, he crushed her lips with his. Her body was rigid at first as she tried to resist, but it took only a few minutes to have her melting against him.

*****

He was gone the next morning when she opened her eyes. At first, she had no recollection of what had happened and then it came flooding right back.

The sheets were hopelessly tangled, and she was sore all over. Her nipples were still sensitive and between her thighs – she closed her eyes as sensations rocketed her body. Three times! That was not possible. She could not comprehend her behavior either. That was not her.

So, it was good that he had left before they could have a conversation, because frankly, she had no idea what she would have said to him.

“It was nice.” Seemed like a woefully inadequate phrasing. And she had not asked him about…

“Oh, dear God!” She whispered. She had been on the pill for what seemed like forever, but she had started having an allergic reaction. Her gynecologist had suggested she gave it a rest and since she was not in a relationship, she had decided to.

That was three months ago. Was it still in her system? Scrubbing her hands over her face, she cursed lavishly. How could she have been so damn careless?

That had never happened to her before. Dragging herself out of bed, she went to hunt down a robe and headed towards the bathroom. She was going to settle down with her writing and try to get all of it out of her mind.

*****

He told himself he had to leave early. He had a ranch to run and because of the recent flooding, there were still things to be done. It was business as usual.

They had a damn tour coming by today and his mother as well as the rest of the staff at the ranch house was preparing for the ‘End of Summer Gala’. It was a few days away and the storm had not dampened the need to prepare for it.

It was an annual event – a combination of several things. McCarthy Fields was heavy into charity and sponsored several young people who wanted to attend college. It was also fruit picking as well. It was an entire day packed with activities.

Their fruit were well tended and free of fertilization, therefore, in very high demand. There was also the peeling, the ‘jam fest’ where women all over town come to participate in the preparation of apple, peach, and orange jams.

He did not have time to reflect on what happened between them last night and this morning. Or the fact that he had stood by the side of the bed, staring at her, examining her flawless skin, with the butterfly tattoo on her left buttocks.

Neither was he going to consider how that had made him feel to wonder if the tattoo artist had been male and if so, had she slept with him.

The fierce possessiveness he felt towards her was frightening the crap out of him. For the first time since he assumed responsibility of the ranch, he had been reluctant to attend to his duties. He had wanted to stay with her, wanted to wrap his arms around her and make love to her the entire day.

And he could not get the taste of her out of his mouth. There was another worry. He had always been so careful, had to be. He was Jonathan McCarthy, heir to a fortune. But that had never even entered his mind – it had never occurred to him to ask if she was protected.

With a grim look settled on his features, he went to work.

*****

She could not concentrate on work. She sat there staring at the few sentences she had written after prevaricating for what seemed like most of the morning. It was no good, certainly not up to her usual lofty standards. And the wine had not helped.

She had barely eaten a slice of toast and a boiled egg for breakfast, topped off by several cups of coffee. Maybe she was jacked up on caffeine, which could be a logical explanation, she thought, pushing away from the table.

Outside was washed with light from the sun. She had opened the window to let some air in and appreciated the cool breeze. Trying to ignore thoughts of him from circling inside her head was proving to be a futile endeavor. She was about to force herself to go back to her writing when her phone vibrated.

It was her friends calling and she remembered telling them about the storm and heavy rain and promising she would call back.

“I am so sorry,” she started as soon as she pressed the icon. Sitting back down, she reached for her glass of wine. “I completely forgot that I owed you guys a phone call.”

“And in the meantime, we have been worried,” Salome complained. “How is it there?”

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