A Puppy for Christmas Page 6

  She shook her head slowly. ‘Marrying for those reasons would be completely wrong—for both of you.’

  ‘I couldn’t agree more.’ Jackson nodded. ‘Which is why I would never consider marrying any woman who couldn’t accept and love Danny as I do.’

  Bree grimaced. ‘It’s really none of my business, is it?’

  No, it wasn’t, and if Jackson hadn’t had such a lousy day so far maybe he wouldn’t be talking about it now either.

  Jennifer had been her usual charming and beautiful self, and she’d made it obvious throughout lunch that she was expecting them to spend a couple of hours in bed together afterwards. Ordinarily Jackson would have been only too happy to oblige—as he had several times in the past.

  But not today.

  Today Jackson hadn’t been able to work up even a spark of enthusiasm for making love with Jennifer. In fact he’d felt quite the opposite; just the thought of her tall and willowy body had been a complete turn-off when compared to the softness of Bree’s body. A body that Jackson had found himself thinking about far too often during a lunch date with one of the most beautiful women in the world.

  He looked at Bree now, attentively and appraisingly. She looked adorable, despite the weariness from her shopping trip evident in her expression. Several dark wavy strands of hair had escaped their confines to curl wispily about her cheeks and throat. The blue jeans she wore moulded perfectly to the slenderness of her hips and bottom; a blue sweater clearly outlined the curve of her breasts.

  In spite of that weariness and untidiness Jackson knew he found Bree’s natural beauty infinitely more appealing than he had found Jennifer Greaves’s ultra-perfect looks!

  Bree looked pained. ‘You seemed to imply earlier that there had been more than one crisis since you got back,’ she reminded him carefully.

  ‘I did, didn’t I?’ He paced the room restlessly, his considerable height and the width of his shoulders dwarfing her cosy sitting room. And causing Bree’s heart to start pounding and her palms to dampen...

  These conversations with Jackson were...unsettling. Particularly so when she found his rakish good looks and the barely leashed power of his lean and muscled body just so—so overwhelmingly male!

  ‘Well...?’ she prompted warily as he continued to pace.

  His eyes glittered with displeasure as he turned to look at her. ‘You had a visitor earlier.’

  ‘I did?’ Bree’s wariness increased as she wondered who that visitor could possibly have been. Certainly not Roger; they had parted amicably enough on the telephone earlier. And on the rare occasions when she met with family or friends it was always in town or at one of their homes; Bree had certainly never invited anyone to visit her here at Beaumont House. She’d always preferred to keep her work and her private life completely separate. Although she and Jackson hadn’t been too successful at doing that lately!

  ‘Yes,’ Jackson bit out tersely.

  Bree bristled at the censure she heard in his tone. ‘I trust I am allowed to have visitors here?’

  ‘Of course,’ he snapped.

  ‘Well? Aren’t you going to tell me who it was?’ she demanded impatiently—really, Jackson could be one of the most infuriating of men!

  As well as one of the most dangerously attractive...

  His was a dangerous and disturbing attractiveness that Bree had found herself thinking about far too much today. She’d thought about him as she’d worked that morning. She’d thought about him as she’d eaten a light lunch before going out. And as she’d wandered around the shops, searching in vain for his Christmas present, she’d thought—of course—of nothing but him.

  The cocoon of emotional and physical numbness that Bree had wrapped herself in over the past year had, she realised, been forced wide open by the intensity of the previous night’s lovemaking with Jackson!

  So much so that her senses were running riot with physical awareness just from being in his presence again. Jackson made her pulse race, and the smell of him—clean and earthy, with the underlying musk of a male in his prime—sent shivers of sensation down her spine. Her hands—hands Bree now clasped firmly together behind her back—ached to reach out and touch him. All of him. From the impressive width of his shoulders to the hardness of his muscled chest and stomach, and lower still to his—

  Oh, dear Lord!

  Bree swayed slightly on her feet as the heat of desire rushed through her. Her whole body was feeling hot, her nipples tingling as they became engorged, that warmth seeming to burn as it ached between her thighs.

  She sat down abruptly on the sofa—it was that or risk falling down!

  Bree had always believed that going weak at the knees was just a romantic expression; now she knew it to be absolutely true. If she hadn’t sat down when she had, she would probably have collapsed in a heap at Jackson’s feet!

  What was happening to her?

  Whatever it was, it was distinctly uncomfortable! And totally, utterly stupid if she wanted to continue working for Jackson.

  Which she did.

  Just the thought of leaving—of never seeing Jackson again, of being separated from Danny—was enough to make Bree’s chest ache. And not in a pleasant way either!

  ‘What are you thinking about?’

  Bree looked up at Jackson warily, her breath catching in her throat as he focused all the intensity of his glittering blue eyes on her. She moistened her lips nervously, averting her own gaze and looking into the flames of the gas fire.

  ‘I’m still waiting for you to answer my question,’ she said softly.

  ‘But that wasn’t what you were thinking about, was it?’ There was a quiet, knowing triumph in his voice as he spoke.

  Colour warmed Bree’s cheeks even as she raised heavy dark lashes to look up at him. ‘You can’t possibly know that.’

  ‘Can’t I?’

  ‘No!’

  He raised his eyebrows, taunting her. ‘I know that whatever you were thinking about it hardened your nipples!’

  The colour deepened in Bree’s cheeks as she looked down self-consciously and saw the clear outline of her aroused nipples against the soft wool of her sweater. She closed her eyes, groaning inwardly with mortification.

  ‘Maybe you were imagining your visitor was Roger Tyler?’

  ‘Of course I wasn’t imagining that!’ Bree protested, looked up with a frown.

  ‘No?’ Jackson took a moment to savour her protest before his expression hardened again.

  Was Bree even wearing a bra? If she was, then it was worse than useless at concealing the smooth curve of those full and tempting breasts, let alone the firm outline of her aroused nipples.

  Nipples that Jackson ached to expose to the ministrations of his lips, tongue and teeth!

  ‘Who do you think it was if it wasn’t Tyler?’

  ‘I have absolutely no idea. Nor am I particularly interested—least of all in playing your childish little guessing games,’ she spat impatiently. ‘I think it’s time you left.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere until you tell me who David is.’

  ‘David?’ She was completely taken aback. ‘Are you saying that my visitor was David?’

  ‘Would it matter to you if it was?’

  Would it? Bree asked herself dazedly.

  Last week—yesterday, even—the answer to that question might have been yes. But did it matter to her today, here and now, after what had happened with Jackson last night...?

  CHAPTER NINE

  BREE’S CHEEKS PALED as she avoided answering that question—even to herself.

  ‘I’ve never asked you about any of the women you’ve been involved with, have I?’

  His jaw tightened, his mouth thinning into a hard line. ‘And is David someone you’re involved with?’

  �
�I believe I used the past tense, Jackson,’ she snapped, fuming with annoyance.

  His expression was grim. ‘Past tense as in years ago or recently?’

  Bree moved impatiently. ‘What difference does it make as long as it’s in the past?’

  ‘You tell me...’ He raised his eyebrows, looking deep into her eyes.

  She shook her head. ‘I have no idea what you want from me, Jackson.’

  ‘I believe, for the moment, a simple answer to my question will do,’ he said softly.

  Bree frowned at him and took a deep breath. ‘Look, I’m sorry if David came here earlier and...and was a nuisance. He’s obviously annoyed you somehow.’

  ‘I don’t know enough about the man to be annoyed with him, Bree,’ he assured her briskly.

  ‘Does that mean you’re annoyed with me?’ she asked incredulously.

  ‘I don’t remember saying I was annoyed with anyone!’

  ‘Well, you’re definitely in a snit about something!’

  Jackson hesitated. ‘A...snit?’

  ‘A snit, yes. That’s the only explanation I can think of for this ridiculous conversation,’ Bree snapped.

  ‘Is it ridiculous to show an interest in your friends?’ Jackson took a slow, predatory step towards her as he continued to hold her gaze with his own.

  Wariness darkened those smoky-grey eyes. ‘It’s definitely something,’ she insisted firmly.

  Jackson shrugged his shoulders dismissively as he moved to stand behind her.

  ‘Nevertheless...’

  Standing this close to Bree, he could detect the enticing, delicate fragrance of her perfume, and somewhere deeper, beneath the artificial scent, he sensed her arousal: a hot spiciness that caused his shaft to thicken against the rough denim of his jeans as he gave in to temptation and threaded his fingers into the silky hair at Bree’s temples.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Bree breathed, her back stiff with shock, her neck tense.

  ‘What does it feel like I’m doing?’ Jackson whispered huskily.

  Whatever it was, it felt marvellous. Bree was almost purring as Jackson’s fingers moved lightly through her hair. Her eyes closed and her back arched with pleasure when she felt the full weight of her hair falling about her shoulders as Jackson removed the clip, shaking the lustrous length of curls loose before continuing that soothing caress.

  She knew she should stop him—knew that they were once again stepping over that line between employer and employee. Knew it and yet couldn’t prevent it. Didn’t want to prevent it, she amended, as Jackson’s hands moved to rest lightly on top of her shoulders. She felt the warmth of his breath against her earlobe, gasping as his lips began a slow and leisurely exploration down the length of her throat.

  The muscles in Bree’s neck loosened and she leaned her head back, dark lashes brushing her cheeks as her eyes closed, breasts thrusting forward, hands clenched at her sides. She could no longer contain a groan of ecstasy as an electric current of pleasure travelled down her spine, culminating almost unbearably between her thighs.

  Jackson’s hands slid down over the tops of her breasts, lightly skimming the sensitised tips before cupping the firm rounds beneath, gently squeezing and massaging their soft weight.

  Bree’s breath caught in her throat as the soft pads of his thumbs moved back and forth across the hardened peaks of her breasts. Her hands moved up to clasp his forearms—not to push him away, but to press him closer still.

  ‘Oh, God...’ she groaned weakly as Jackson gently squeezed those throbbing nipples between finger and thumb.

  Her breasts quickly rose and fell as Jackson increased the pressure on her nipples. Her eyelashes fluttered weakly as she tried to raise the lids and couldn’t. The pleasure of Jackson’s caresses was all she could feel or think about.

  Bree moaned protestingly when those hands left her breasts, then gasped when cool air hit her feverish skin as Jackson lifted her sweater up over her breasts, baring them to the heat of his palms as he plucked at her throbbing nipples.

  She writhed restlessly on the sofa, desperately aware of that uncomfortable throb between her legs as she felt excitement building. She needed—oh, God—she needed—

  ‘Tell me what you need, Bree,’ Jackson encouraged, moving from behind the sofa to nudge Bree’s legs apart. He knelt between them, lowering his mouth to her breast hungrily before raising his head to look down at those full rose-tipped orbs. ‘Tell me, Bree!’

  One of his hands cupped her breast, caressing, squeezing her swollen nipple, as he slowly kissed his way down her abdomen to her navel. His other hand moved purposefully to the fastening of her jeans, sliding the zip slowly downwards until he could see the white lace of her panties.

  ‘Bree...?’ His voice was a muffled rasp: the sight and scent of her arousal had only deepened the aching throb of his shaft.

  ‘Touch me, Jackson!’ she gasped achingly. ‘For pity’s sake, touch me!’

  ‘I am touching you, Bree.’ He added pressure as he squeezed her breast.

  ‘Lower, Jackson...!’ Her thighs moved restlessly, invitingly. ‘I need...!’

  She tasted so damned good, and her skin was like silk to the touch as Jackson’s mouth moved lower still, almost tasting Bree’s arousal as he kissed her through those white lace panties. He heard her gasp as his tongue found and gently stroked the crux of the heat raging through her. His hands once again moved up to cup and caress her breasts, tugging at the swollen nipples as Bree stretched against him in a silent plea, and he took the throb of her against his tongue as evidence that Bree was fast approaching her climax.

  ‘Harder, Jackson!’ Bree sobbed in desperation, her fingers entangled in the thickness of Jackson’s hair as she held him against her and arched into the rhythmic caress of his tongue. ‘Please!’

  She cried out in protest as his mouth left her to latch on to her breast, sucking hard as he shifted to the side, pushing her jeans and panties down and throwing them aside before pulling her further down the sofa and parting her legs. Bree was completely open to him as his lips claimed hers and his tongue plunged into the heat of her mouth, as he thrust first one finger inside her and then another, thrusting again and again, whilst caressing her swollen nipple with his other hand, taking her higher and higher towards release.

  Bree wrenched her mouth from Jackson’s, whipping her head from side to side as her first ever orgasm hit her with a force that completely took her breath away. Pleasure unlike anything Bree had ever experienced claimed her in wave after earth-shattering wave.

  * * *

  ‘YOU HAVEN’T—DIDN’T—’

  ‘Does that bother you?’ Jackson lay on the sofa beside Bree and held her in his arms, the hardness of his arousal warm against her thigh as she continued to tremble and quake from the aftershocks of her release.

  ‘Of course it bothers me,’ she breathed.

  Jackson smiled. ‘It doesn’t bother me.’

  ‘Really?’ She stared up at him, eyes wide with disbelief.

  ‘Really.’

  Giving Bree such pleasure, and then watching her plunge over the edge of that pleasure into orgasm and beyond, had been the most satisfying physical experience of Jackson’s life. He could only imagine, only anticipate, how much more satisfying actually being inside Bree would be...

  ‘Oh.’

  Jackson chuckled. ‘You sound surprised.’

  ‘A little, yes.’

  Bree could say nothing more at that moment, when she was so full of embarrassment over what had just happened. Inwardly she groaned with mortification every time she remembered the way she had completely unravelled as Jackson pleasured her with his mouth and hands!

  Jackson.

  The man Bree had worked with so harmoniously over the past year.

  The same man who had an
unwritten rule about never becoming personally involved with the women he employed.

  Bree had a feeling, lying there half-naked in Jackson’s arms, wearing only her sweater now pulled down over her sensitive breasts and the lace panties she had put back on moments ago, that this went way beyond personal involvement!

  ‘Who’s David, Bree?’ Jackson murmured softly. ‘And why did he come here to see you?’

  ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake—!’

  ‘For mine, actually,’ Jackson amended drily.

  Bree drew in a deep breath. ‘I have absolutely no idea why David should have come here to see me.’

  Jackson raised his brows. ‘You could always try asking him...?’

  She smiled contentedly. ‘I’m quite happy where I am for the moment, thank you.’

  ‘That’s good to know.’ Jackson’s arms tightened around her. ‘Although I doubt that David is going to leave until you tell him to do so.’

  Bree frowned. ‘What?’

  He nodded. ‘He’s upstairs in the sitting room, with Danny and Mrs Holmes.’

  ‘What?’ Bree raised herself up on her elbows and stared down at him incredulously.

  ‘He didn’t seem to mind waiting until you came home,’ Jackson explained evenly.

  Bree paled visibly, all the colour draining from her face. At the same time, Jackson observed, she looked not just anxious but actually hunted. She wrenched herself out of his arms and rose agitatedly to her feet before pulling on her jeans.

  ‘You mean that while we—while I—all this time David has been sitting upstairs waiting to see me?’ She could manage little more than a whisper.

  Jackson inclined his head. ‘He was still there when I came downstairs earlier, yes.’

  ‘You—’ Bree’s hands clenched into fists at her sides, her grey eyes glittering darkly as she stared down at him in complete disbelief, two angry spots of colour blooming in her cheeks.