Anne's Courage [Le Club 3] (Siren Publishing Classic) (4 page)

“You would do that for me? I don’t know what to say. I’m overwhelmed,” she said with gratitude. Although she realized he had ulterior motives, she decided she really didn’t care. She wanted to spend time with Jamie Devereau. “Are you sure you want to commit to such early morning lessons?”

“No problem. I’m up early watching overseas markets anyway.”

That afternoon Anne took the time to shop for riding clothes. She bought several pairs of riding britches in neutral colors, high, black English riding boots, leather gloves with stitched grooves across the palms, spurs, a crop, and a riding helmet. If clothes made the woman, she was going to be prepared.

The daily riding lessons progressed well with Anne gaining confidence with each session. She bounced out of bed in the morning, eager to get to the farm, butterflies fluttering in her belly. She wasn’t sure if she was more eager to ride or to see Jamie. The man was amazing, patient but strict. She learned the correct way to sit, to hold her hands, to keep her heels down, and to mount by herself. She learned how to adjust her stirrup leathers while on the ground before mounting and from the saddle, how to check the bridle and bit for correct fit so it would not pinch the horse’s mouth. She learned how to groom and saddle her own horse, how to pick hooves, how to cool down her horse and take care of it after the lesson, in other words, to be a complete horsewoman. It was a great deal to cover in a short time, but she found she was a sponge, eager to soak up every bit of knowledge he had to impart. Slowly but surely, she was gaining confidence in Jamie as well as regaining the confidence in herself as a woman she had lost in the breakup with her fiancé, but she knew she still had a long way to go.

* * * *

On Friday morning, after Anne’s lesson, Jamie and Anne were having a cup of coffee in the tack room. “So, Anne, will you have dinner with me tonight?” he asked.

“Jamie, do you think that’s a good idea?”

“Obviously I do. I just don’t know why you wouldn’t think it was a good idea as well,” he said with some exasperation. “What exactly are your objections, cher? We have been spending a lot of time together, and I thought you were becoming comfortable with me. You seemed to be relaxing.”

“I am comfortable with you. To be honest, I find you extremely appealing. It’s me...”

“I really don’t want to hear that old ‘It’s me, not you’ bullshit,” he said with a frown. “We need to have some straight talk.”

“That is a tired line, isn’t it,” she admitted. Over the week she had found that she was becoming accustomed to his touch as he patiently positioned her body in the saddle or her hands on the reins. He was very easy to be with, and she really enjoyed his company, not to mention the sizzle that ran through her body whenever he touched her. It was disconcerting but exciting at the same time. She could also see that he was determined and not about to give up. “Okay, let’s have dinner and some honest conversation and see what comes of it.”

Jamie arranged for dinner to be served in the dining room of the Ming Suite which occupied the entire third floor of the original house and was decorated in an ornate oriental style with antique black lacquer furniture and oriental artwork. It was Anne’s favorite suite. Jamie and Anne settled on a low oriental settee on the screened veranda overlooking the spectacular English gardens.

Anne, dressed in a low-cut, black, silk shirt and elegant, black, silk wide-legged pants over the black Christian Louboutin pumps with the bright-red soles that had fueled his fantasies on two previous occasions, nervously accepted a glass of white wine from Jamie. Her pulse was racing as he brushed his fingers over her wrist.

“Okay, Anne. It’s time for some honest dialogue,” he said. “You know I want to make love with you.”

“You’re right. We need to have this conversation. It’s hard for me to talk about this, so I’ll just plunge right in,” she said as she took a sip of her wine for courage. “Six years ago, I was diagnosed with breast cancer and had a mastectomy. That was hard to go through, but my doctors were great, and I have not had a recurrence. I’m in remission. I was really very lucky in light of the alternative. The harder thing, though, was accepting the changes in my body and the loss of my fiancé. Ben was really stressed out by the whole situation, and after it was over, he couldn’t get past it. Even though I had reconstructive surgery, the ugly, red scars on my chest really bothered him. No matter how good the surgeon, they can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. I just wasn’t perfect anymore. I adored Ben, and the look in his eyes crushed me.”

“You have to be kidding! What kind of idiot wouldn’t be grateful that the woman he loved survived a life threatening illness? What could possibly be shallower than that?”

“Some men can’t accept physical imperfections in women, even if they’re fat and bald themselves. It’s a fact of life,” she said. “I’ve had years to accept that.”

Jamie took her in his arms and just held her. When she began to relax against him, he tightened his embrace. “You had better not lump me in with ‘some men,’” he said as he turned her head toward him and took her lips in a possessive kiss that rocked her down to her toes. She trembled as he opened her mouth and took possession of it. He was not gentle as he plundering her senses, and searing pleasure exploded in her core. “I think we need to get this out of the way right now.” He nuzzled her neck as he started to unbutton her shirt.

“Please. No, Jamie. Please leave the shirt on,” she begged.
I just can’t stand to see the disgust in your eyes that I saw in Ben’s when you see the disfigurement under this shirt
.

He stroked her breasts through the black silk shirt. “Okay. For now,” he said. “We will be dealing with this problem.” He gave her a stern look. “Just not tonight.” He slowly ran his hands down her back and slid the black slacks and silky thong down her hips. He lifted her into his arms and started for the master bedroom.

* * * *

As she buried her face in his strong neck, he felt the dampness of her tears against his skin. She was a strong woman. She had survived a devastating illness and the loss of her love but had made a solid, productive life for herself.
How can she still feel unworthy?
“I’d like to get my hands on that Ben guy,” he growled into her ear.

“No. I’ve come to realize he wasn’t worth the tears I cried over him. You’re right. He was a shallow jerk. I was just in such an emotional place at the time myself that I couldn’t deal with the additional loss. I never really got over it.”

Jamie laid her on the enormous, red, silk-covered bed and came down beside her. He kissed the tears from the corners of her eyes and said, “I’m going to make love to you tonight, Anne, just straight vanilla love. We can explore other things another time.” He ran his hand down her long leg and removed first one of the black pumps and then the other. “You could do some serious damage with these.” He slid his hand slowly back up her leg to the juncture of her thighs and found her pussy wet and wanting.

* * * *

Despite her nerves, she was turned on by his nearness, his self-confident touch, and his understanding.
God, it’s been so long. I hope I haven’t forgotten how to do this.
She abandoned herself to his touch.
Nope, it’s coming back to me. No problem!
She raised her aching center to his questing fingers as she urgently reached for more contact. He parted her pink pussy lips and stroked her gently although she was desperate for a stronger touch. He circled his thumb over her pulsing clit and the center of her pleasure, plunging his strong fingers into her channel.
God, this is wonderful. It’s been so long since I felt like a complete woman.
The defection of her fiancé at such a vulnerable time had severely damaged her self-esteem, and she had been struggling with her body image problem for a long time.

“I can feel you quivering, baby,” he said. “Let it go.”

She moaned at his gentle touch, and she felt the tingling sensation begin to streak up her spine when he ran his fingers through her wet folds. Jamie took his time pleasuring her, not rushing the moment. She could feel him holding back his own response, but the heat of his gaze told her he was more than ready.

When she was close to an orgasm, he rose above her, entered her swiftly, and began a strong, sure stroking rhythm that quickly brought them both to the edge and over to oblivion with a crashing climax that rolled through them both like waves breaking on the shore.

“That was too quick, baby,” he said breathlessly. “I’ve been waiting for you all week. It’s been hard to keep my hands to myself. It’s a good thing we have all night.” He gently pulled her into his arms and settled her back against his length as their combined pulses began to settle, and they drifted into satisfied sleep.

During the night, when she was still half asleep, he entered her from behind and began the gentle, soothing, rocking strokes that brought her to climax again and again, as though in a dream.

When she awoke in the morning, the sunlight was streaming in through the tall windows, falling across the bed and her naked breasts. The buttons had come undone during the night, or perhaps they’d had some help! She started to jump out of bed, but Jamie threw his muscled leg across her lower body, pinning her in place. “It’s too late for that, cher. That horse has left the barn,” he said matter-of-factly. “Did you honestly think I would make love to only half of you?” He kissed first one breast and then the other tenderly. “Do you think these puny little scars make you less of a woman? That I can’t see beyond them to the beautiful, strong, loving, responsive woman you are? If you do, I’m going to paddle your butt.” His expression was menacing, and she thought he just might do it.

“Oh, Jamie, they’re so ugly,” she cried, taking his threat only half seriously.

“Not to me,” he replied. He slowly ran his tongue along the slightly puckered, pink scars under her breasts where the surgeries had been. They made her feel like a mangled mess.

“I don’t even look at them myself.” She had avoided her bathroom mirrors for years. She felt she looked good in her clothes, but clothes made the woman, and she just wasn’t sure of herself without them. They were her barrier against the world.

“Well, it’s time you did look.” He threw the blankets back and dragged her from the bed into the opulent bathroom until they were standing in front of the mirrored wall opposite the shower. He stripped the black silk shirt off the rest of the way. “Take a good look. Is this all you think you are? Yeah, your breasts are not completely symmetrical. There are a few scars. I can see the nipples are a little off. But I’m an ass man anyway, so it’s really not a problem,” he said with a devilish grin.

“I had a nipple sharing procedure where half of the one remaining nipple was transplanted to the reconstructed breast,” she explained, blushing as he forced her to look into the mirror.

“And you have the nerve to be ashamed of the beautiful work your doctors did? You should be ashamed of that!” he said with conviction as he pulled her into the shower and turned the multidirectional jets on full blast, soaking them both.

He began soaping her body, paying particular attention to her much maligned breasts and running his hands over her ass and between her legs, over her pretty pussy. “You’re a gorgeous woman, and you’re going to get over this. Or else. I wouldn’t mind seeing the cheeks of your very fine ass blushing bright-pink from a good spanking if you don’t straighten up.”

For the first time, she thought he might really be serious about the spanking.
Oh no! That would be awful
, but her pussy began to tingle at the thought of his big strong hand on her bare bottom. “The scars really don’t bother you?” she asked.

“Not in the way you think they should. It bothers me that you had to go through that illness, the surgeries, the uncertainty and fear and didn’t have the support you should have had from your fiancé. The physical reminders of all that don’t bother me at all.” He boosted her up and impaled her on his straining shaft as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He braced her back against the wall and began pumping into her willing pussy, slow and deep, as heat built between them. He bent his head down and took her nipple in his mouth, nipping and sucking, first one and then the other. Finally, she screamed and bucked as her release took her, rolling through her like a freight train, and he followed her over, losing himself in her orgasm. And then her tears came as she sobbed, and six years of need and denial were wiped away. Slowly, she felt as though the cracks in her heart were mending, that she might eventually be whole again.

Later, as they had coffee and sweet rolls on the veranda, she said, “Jamie, why exactly are you interested in me, baggage and all? I’m a few years older, not going to say how many, than you, and I’m not interested in having a family at this stage of life. You’re certainly young enough to want a family someday.”

“You just have to accept that I find you beautiful. Tall, cool, sophisticated, a lady through and through. But you’re also very sensuous and sexy, hot and responsive. You have many great qualities. As to a family, I’m not interested in populating the planet. I’ll leave it to Justin and Kelly to carry on the family name. You’re not the only one with some baggage. One of these days, I’ll clue you in on the Devereau family history. Believe me, it’s not pretty. But enough of that for now. Just lay back, relax, and enjoy the ride,” he advised with a grin. Despite his notorious ‘bad boy’ image, Jamie had some insecurities of his own. “I have some work to do in the office this morning, and I have to make a short trip out to the farm. What are your plans for the day? I’d like to spend the rest of the weekend together if you would like to.”