Hot Bayou Nights

Chapter 45

“Oh. I—”

He pulled her up and into his kiss, his mouth soft but demanding, claiming possession of her. His tongue pried open her lips and he swept in, exploring her warm and willing mouth. It was curiously, wonderfully like being home, back to the tingly, seductive embrace of Jackson Rivard that she was getting to know oh so well.

She groaned, melting into his kiss, the palms of her hands gently caressing his warm, muscled chest.

At first she was reluctant to rest her full weight on him because of his weakened condition from the bite, but Jackson was having none of it. He settled her more firmly on his lap by curving his hand around her back and onto her ass, pulling her against him so she could feel the bulge of his arousal pressed beneath her thigh. She moaned into his mouth.

He slipped his hands beneath her blouse and in one smooth movement released the snap on her bra so her breasts spilled free. Then his hands were everywhere, sliding his palms across her breasts, gently pinching the nipples between forefinger and thumb. Carla squirmed against him, feeling the insistent pulses between her legs as her body readied itself for him.

But she didn’t want to go on, not like this. Not until they finished their conversation. With a willpower of iron, she pulled away.

“Not yet,” she panted softly against his ear. “Why not?”

She extracted herself from his lap and sat in the chair next to him, straightening her top and refastening her bra. She couldn’t think straight sitting across from him halfway undressed.

“There are things I need to say. Important things.”

He let out a breath, bringing his desire under control. For the moment.

“As I was saying, I love you, too, Jackson. At least I think I do.”

He frowned. “You’re not sure?”

“I’ve never been in love before.” She shook her head, gave him a shrug. “This is all new to me, and it’s confusing as hell. I thought my life was all set. I had a job, I knew where I was going to live. I even, according to my parents, had someone who would marry me. In a few short weeks, my life turned upside down.”

She leaned forward, a pleading look on her face as she strove to make certain Jackson understood.

He nodded. “Even though it doesn’t look that way from where you sit, Carla, I’m sorting through the same feelings.”

“You are?”

“Yes. I have my research facility, my mission, my goals. Everything I want and need has been perfectly put in place and moving forward just as I envisioned. At least that’s what I thought. But then you came along, and suddenly things started looking different. What I thought was so well planned out didn’t appear that way anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

Jackson took a deep breath and slowly released it. “I know you know about Katherine. Amy told me.”

She nodded reluctantly. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need. That relationship taught me well.”

“About having your heart shattered?”

Jackson’s mouth set. “I decided afterward I didn’t need to spend my time looking for a woman to love. I love my sister — not in the same way, of course — but my love for Amy fuels me toward my goal of finding a cure for MS, and I figured that’s all I needed. Wasting energy on loving someone else was just distracting and unnecessary, and it screwed up my plans. But then you came along.”

“How did I interfere?” Carla’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “Even if you did fall in love with me, your life, your goals — everything — is here.”

“I’m ready to go to Paris with you, Carla.” Her heart stopped. “What?”

“I know how much you want to go, and that you’re moving there after this assignment. I want to be with you, so I decided that if you felt the same way, I’d put my part of the research on hold. I’d denote Quinn as head researcher. He takes my place until your Paris assignment is over.”

Her eyes filled and the image of Jackson before her became unfocused and watery, like looking through a windshield during a storm. She blinked back the tears, trying to stop them from tumbling down her face, but even so she could feel her throat tightening and knew she’d be losing the battle.

“You’d do that for me?”

He closed his eyes briefly and nodded. “Of course.”

“But your research. Your goals.”

“They go on. Just in a different way than I first thought.” He reached out and took her hands in his, lacing their fingers together. His focus was locked to the floor for a moment, as if collecting his thoughts. Then he looked back up, piercing her with his stare.

“Turns out getting bit was the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time. Apart from meeting you.”

“What?” She frowned, shaking her head. “What do you mean?”

“For two years I’ve spent every waking minute searching for the MS cure. I think of nothing else; I do nothing else. My entire life has been put on hold trying to make up for the accident. And my parents’ deaths.”

“But you didn’t—”

“I know what you’re going to say. I didn’t cause the accident. But it’s something I have to come to terms with on my own.”

She gave him a cautious smile. “And have you?”

“Don’t think I’m quite there yet, but almost. What I do know is I have other reasons to live.” He lifted one of her hands to his lips and pressed a kiss against the back of it, his warm breath caressing her skin. Then he said, “Those reasons include you. It’s time for me to put the past behind and move on.”

He released her hands and gave her a wry grin. “Besides, you can’t go to Paris with that horrendous French of yours. You need a translator.”

The tears she’d been battling against finally won, and she felt their warm wetness against her cheeks. But even through the tears she could see Jackson’s smile, lighting the room — and her heart — like a thousand watt bulb. She swiped at her tears, chasing them away.

“I’d planned on learning French while I was there.”

His eyes sparkled with a wicked gleam. “But mon ange, that’s such a boring way to learn.”

“Is it?”

“Let me show you a better one.”

Jackson rose from the chair and held out his hand toward her. She took it and stood. He brought her toward him, into his embrace, surrounding her with his warmth. She sank into him, resting her cheek against his shoulder and closing her eyes as she took in the surprising softness of his skin and the heady male scent of him. He began caressing her back, long smooth strokes that had her purring like a contended cat.

“Viens au lit,” he said, still stroking her back while planting whisper soft kisses against the nape of her neck.

“What does that mean?”

He stepped back, enough so he could bring his hand around to place a finger beneath her chin, tipping it up to look into her eyes. “Come to bed.”

He took her hand and they walked across the room, stopping when they reached the side of the bed.

Jackson looked down at her, one side of his mouth curving upward in a devilish grin. “Déshabille-toi.”

“I—”

He thrust his arms beneath her blouse and lifted it up and over her head. “Take off your clothes.”

“That’s not fair,” she protested, nonetheless unbuttoning and then stepping out of her jeans. “Just because I don’t speak the language doesn’t mean you get to decide everything.”

“Au contraire. I’m your teacher, and this is my lesson plan.”

She loved this playful side of him, something she hadn’t seen nearly enough of. But before they continued, she had to finish what she’d come here to say. “Jackson, wait.”

Her pleas were ignored as he leaned forward to begin sliding down her bra straps. Suddenly she remembered one of the few French words she did know. “Arrête!”

It worked. He paused and nodded his approval. “Très bien.”

“Merci.” She stepped back to give herself some space. “I just need to know if you’re sure.”

“I told you—”

“I know. But I didn’t get to say everything I wanted so I just…you have to hear the rest.” She stopped, getting her thoughts together. “When I said before that I was wrong about everything, I meant about the path I was on. I tried to make the corporate life work, but there was always something inside of me that didn’t feel right.”

“Stuffing a square peg in a round hole.”

“Exactly. The thing is, though, the skills I have are solid. They just need to be used in the right place.”

“Like Paris.”

“No.” She let out a breath. “Here.”

Confusion furrowed his brow. “Here? What do you mean?”

“I mean I want to work for you. Here at the lab. I don’t want to go to Paris, Jackson. At least not to live. Not now. What I want is to stay and work here. Not as a researcher of course, but maybe as your operations person.”

“Operations?”

“In charge of communications, public relations, fund raising, marketing. You don’t even have a web presence, did you know that? I couldn’t find out a thing about this company before I came. You don’t have anyone doing any of that, except yourself, and frankly you’re about as good at that as I am at French.”

He feigned insult. “Pardon?”

“Your brilliance is in your research. That’s where you need to be spending your time.”

His serious expression returned and he nodded his agreement. “It’s true. I try to put focus on it, but…”

“What I’m trying to say is, I want you to hire me.”

He closed the space between them, taking her in his arms. With gentle pressure he pushed her down on the bed and sat beside her. He returned his attention to the bra straps he’d been in the middle of pushing away when she’d interrupted him.

“I’d love to hire you,” he said between soft kisses along her shoulder. “But I couldn’t afford you.”

“You’ll pay me through the grant money I raise. I promise it’ll be more than you’ve ever had before. Besides, I’d work for cheap,” she responded, a small gasp escaping her as Jackson removed the bra and her breasts tumbled free, instantly stroked by his insatiable fingers. “And you could throw in some sex on the side,” she added. “As extra compensation.”

“Mmm.” He leaned forward to flick his tongue across her nipple. “That could work.”

“You’ll also continue with my French lessons.” She hissed as he took the hardened nub into his mouth. “For free.”

He pressed her back against the bed and settled himself alongside of her. With the tips of his fingers he skated them across her breasts, her stomach, and then lower still, pushing down her panties.

“Bon. You’re hired. I’ll continue your French lessons, and we will go to Paris. Don’t give up on your dream, Carla. We’ll make it happen together.”

“Okay. But still, I…ohh.” She groaned as he slid his hands between her legs, softly caressing the smooth skin on her inner thighs.

“Tu es si belle.”

“I know what that means! It’s—”

He silenced her with a kiss, whispering something else to her when they finally broke for air.

“I know that one, too,” she said, her eyes dark and hazy with desire.

“Then say it back to me.” “Je t’aime.”

“Nice,” Jackson praised her. “Très bien.” “Merci. I like these French lessons.”

“Then let’s continue with the most important one.” He swirled the tip of his tongue around her ear. “It takes constant practice and repetition to master the skill. But the French are famous for it.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“Making love.”

She sighed as he continued caressing her and slipped her hands down the curve of his back, stroking the lean, corded muscles. She turned her face toward his so she could whisper in his ear. “Then get ready, teacher. I’m going to ace this class.”