Bliss (3 page)

“Really? That’s a long way away. You must be very lonely.”

Pain lanced through her. How the hell did he do that? Here they were making perfectly good small talk and somehow he made it too . . . real.

Yes, she was lonely, but how did he know that? When her mom had moved away—even though she’d been an adult at the time—she’d felt deserted. Again.

“What about other family? Aunts and uncles? Grandparents?” he asked, his brown eyes filled with warmth.

“They all lived in different states. Everyone but my grandma’s sister—my great-aunt—she’d been a widow for as long as I remember. She and I spent a lot of time together.”

“It sounds like you were very close. But now . . . ?”

She nodded, not trusting her voice as the painful memories rose.

In fact, Auntie Dee had been like a second mother to Kara. She still remembered her loving hugs, filled with lavish affection.

“Auntie Dee took sick about a year after Mom moved to Hawaii.”

Kara had visited her every day at first, even moved in with her for a while, until Auntie Dee had gone into a nursing home.

“She died two years later.”

Kara had watched her deteriorate over those two years. For the last six months, she couldn’t even recognize Kara. The pain of losing Auntie Dee, even before she’d died, had been intensely painful. She still missed her terribly.

J.M.’s warm hand covered hers.

“You must miss her very much. I’m sure you were a special part of her life.”

Her jaw clamped together and her stomach twisted. She drew in a deep breath, squashing the tears that threatened.

Finally, she glanced at him. How did this man see so much? Her usual defenses blocked nothing from him. With just a question or two, he’d succeeded in bringing out these deep feelings in her. When other people asked her about family, she kept it light. Surface stuff. But with him . . . he got to the heart of the matter. Nothing hidden.

And because he did that, she felt herself becoming closer to him. Which was crazy, because she hardly knew him. But she realized she wanted to.

She liked his touch. Both when he’d pressed his hand to her back earlier, and now with his hand covering hers. Although he was hot and sexy, what she felt right now wasn’t sexual. His touch was soothing . . . warm . . .
caring.
Although she had barely met him, she yearned to get to know him better. To feel his arms around her.

Oh, God, what was wrong with her? A case of lust gone mad, obviously. And it shouldn’t be surprising. This guy was hot, but he was also friendly and warm. A killer combination, if ever there was one.

The pilot made a chatty announcement, welcoming them aboard and telling them various information about the altitude they were flying at and the service they’d be receiving, which Kara mostly ignored. A few moments later, one of the attendants pushed a trolley down the aisle with dinner trays.

Kara and J.M. discussed mundane things like the weather and how difficult it had been getting to the airport through the traffic and accidents on the slippery roads. Once dinner was done and the plates cleared away, she grabbed her purse, which she’d stowed under the seat, to get her sweater. She pulled out the book about Tantric sex so she could reach her sweater underneath.

“Are you interested in that kind of thing?” J.M. asked.

She glanced at the book, then quickly shoved it back in her bag.

“Not really. Someone suggested I read it. Personally, I think the whole thing is a bit over the top. The author talks about sex as being sacred.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

She barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes and saying, “Please,” as she pulled on her sweater.

“Well, it seems to me he’s saying it’s okay to enjoy sex if you elevate it to a higher level. That if you study his techniques and believe that God is part of the experience,
then
you can enjoy it.” She shrugged. “I think sex is a natural act and anyone can enjoy it, whether they study special techniques or not.”

“Tantra isn’t really one man’s technique. There are millions of interpretations and applications.”

“I know, but this guy is trying to sell books.” She zipped her bag and pushed it back under the seat. “I believe he teaches courses, too. He wants people to think it’s hard so they’ll buy into his teaching.” She pulled her sweater tighter around her. “As I said, I think anyone can enjoy sex. And without guilt. Even if they don’t choose to believe it’s a religious experience.”

The pilot began talking over the speaker system, mentioning information about connecting flights. “. . . and I’m sorry, folks. It seems Indianapolis International Airport is closed due to weather.”

Several groans sounded throughout the cabin.

“For those passengers whose destination was Indianapolis this evening,” the captain continued, “we will arrange to book each of you on the first flight possible tomorrow morning. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

Oh, damn. She’d really wanted to get settled into the conference hotel and get up early tomorrow to register. Now it would be afternoon before she got in, putting her in the thick of the registration lines. She
hated
lines!

“Well, it looks like we’ll have a little more time to get to know each other.” J.M.’s lips turned upward in a devastating smile.

She stared at him, her eyes wide. Oh, God, now the flirting had come back to bite her in the butt. That, paired with her comments about enjoying sex without guilt . . . Damn, did he think she was ready to jump into the sack with him?

Chapter Three

J.M. smiled. So his perfect woman didn’t believe in Tantra. But she had read his book, which meant she’d at least given it a chance. He was sure with a little time and the opportunity to show her the benefits of Tantra, he could convince her of its merits.

He probably should have told her he was the author of the book before the conversation had gone too far, but he’d wanted to hear her honest opinion. He couldn’t tell her now. At least, not right away. There was no point in embarrassing her.

The seat belt sign flashed on and Kara buckled her seat belt. She glanced at him nervously, then gazed out the window. He was fairly sure her jitters were less from the idea of landing than from his comment about spending more time together.

Although she had flirted shamelessly in the airport, it had been clear, especially when she’d seen him in the seat next to hers, that she’d never intended it to lead anywhere.

Given the obvious attraction between them—and the fact he
knew
she was the woman he had manifested as his perfect mate—he fully intended to convince her to spend the night with him. He might know they were meant to be together, but he still had to convince her of that.

Kara’s stomach clenched as the aircraft came to a stop at the gate and people rose from their seats and filled the aisle. Once off the aircraft, she knew she could just excuse herself and slip off to the ladies’ room, or whatever, and give J.M. the slip. But did she really want to do that?

She watched him as he stood up and opened the overhead compartment. He pulled out her carry-on and placed it on the seat.

My God, not only was he a gentleman, but he was also observant—remembering exactly which bag of the several up there was hers. He was a sensitive man, too. Warm and concerned for others’ feelings. She could tell that by their conversation. And she liked being around him. That and he was extremely sexy. The attraction between them was blazing hot, and she hadn’t been with a guy for a while.

As the line of people began to move, J.M. waited for her to move in front of him, then followed her toward the front of the aircraft.

Maybe she should look at this as a golden opportunity. She could have a one-night stand—something she’d never done before—with a sensational guy. And she didn’t have to worry about the repercussions, like the awkwardness the following morning when they promised to call each other, knowing full well they never would, or the potential embarrassment of running into each other again after breaking that promise.

“Good night.” The flight attendant nodded as Kara stepped past her. “I hope you enjoyed the flight,” she said as J.M. passed her.

The more Kara thought about it, the more she realized she did not want to let this chance slip away.

They walked through the long tunnel leading from the plane to the gate, then stepped into the bustle of the terminal. J.M. slowed, then rested his hand on her arm and guided her out of the flow of traffic.

“Hold on a second,” he said.

She nodded as she watched him pull out his cell phone and tap digits on the keypad. A moment later, he turned away while he talked to someone, then he flipped the phone closed.

“I don’t really want to get caught up in that,” he said, nodding his head toward the horde of people heading to the airline desk to set up their flight for tomorrow and ask about hotels, “so I just reserved a room at Angel’s Inn, a small hotel just a few miles from the airport. I’ll book tomorrow’s flight on-line.”

Kara nodded. That made more sense than standing in a long line, and she knew with so many people arriving all at once at the hotels the airline recommended, the reception desks would be mobbed. It would probably be hours before they got a room.

Oh, damn. Was this good-bye?

She remembered the warmth of J.M.’s hand on her back, and the calm that had resonated from his touch. She had no doubt the heat of his touch could elicit far more than a calming response. An electric zing spiked through her at the thought of his arms encircling her, drawing her close to his body, of those full lips capturing hers in a smoldering kiss.

She was sure he was as interested as she was, but she hadn’t given him any hints. With her luck, he’d walk out of her life any second if she didn’t do something. Now.

She stepped toward him and, before she could change her mind, settled her hands on his shoulders, pushed herself onto her toes, and pressed her lips to that sensuous mouth of his. An electric tingle shimmered through her and her hormones danced in delight. Their mouths parted and she stared at him, allowing the heat she felt to shine in her eyes.

At the sight of his brown eyes, dark with desire, her breath caught. Oh, God, she wanted to feel this man’s arms around her. To feel his lips plundering hers. To touch that magnificent body of his.

His arms slid around her and he pulled her against him, his mouth finding hers again. His lips moved on hers and she glided her arms around his shoulders. She’d been right about the muscles under his shirt. She felt the solid contours of his arms embracing her and her breasts pressed against a hard, sculpted chest. His tongue brushed against her lips and she parted. As he swept inside her mouth and stroked, she melted against him.

He released her lips and brushed the hair over her temple. She could feel his warm breath against her ear. “I was going to invite you to share my room. Does this mean yes?”

Butterflies danced inside her stomach. She could still back out. A kiss wasn’t a commitment to all-out sex.

Ah, damn, Kara, don’t second-guess everything.

Why not allow herself to experience what could only be a magnificent adventure? Sure, she’d never had a one-night stand before, but hadn’t she been the one saying that people could enjoy sex without guilt? That’s what she was always telling readers, anyway. Of course, her columnist persona was very different from real-life Kara. Real-life Kara had always been the shy, bookish type, which is why she’d chosen to become a writer. Of course, writers needed to pay the bills, so when she heard about the job opening for the sex columnist gig, she’d ditched her glasses, given her wardrobe a makeover, and landed herself the job. Little did her boss—or her readers—know that most of the advice she doled out was culled from relationship books rather than from personal experience.

He kissed her again, his lips moving on hers in a sinfully sexy caress.

“What do you say, Kara?”

She simply nodded, unable to find her voice.

He smiled, then wrapped his hand around her elbow and led her into the cold, snowy night. Somehow, he flagged down a cab within minutes and they were on their way to Angel’s Inn.

Kara stepped into the room as J.M. held the door for her. Her eyes widened at the large, luxurious suite.

“Pretty fancy,” she said.

He followed her into the room and closed the door. She kicked off her boots, then slid her coat from her shoulders. He took it and hung it in the closet.

“I thought you might prefer a little space.” He hung his own coat beside hers.

She stepped farther into the large room, glancing around at the soft beige couch and chair across from a cherry cabinet that probably held a TV inside. Plants and artwork gave the sitting area a homey feel. There was a doorway straight ahead that probably led to the bedroom.

She smiled. “You mean, I can sleep on the couch if I like?”

He carried their suitcases across the room and set them by the bedroom door.

“If you don’t want to share the bed,
I’ll
sleep on the couch.”

She quirked her head. “Really?”

He stepped toward her and anticipation fluttered through her. His brown eyes darkened as he stroked his hand over her cheek. Heat shimmered through her and her heart thundered in her chest. He cupped her face and gazed into her eyes.

“I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything just because you agreed to stay the night.” He stroked her cheek. “As for protection, I’ve been tested recently so there are no worries about that, but I can get some condoms if you’d like.”

She shook her head. “I’ve been tested, too. And I’m on the Pill.”

Her gaze dropped to his lips . . . full and sensuous. Her whole body tingled, wanting to feel his mouth on hers. Her lips parted as she tilted her head and pressed her lips to his.

Warm. And firm.

The moment their lips met, she could sense his control—as if he had to stop himself from dragging her against him and ravaging her. His mouth moved on hers with a sweet tenderness. His tongue trailed along the seam of her lips, then pressed inside. She met him, gliding her tongue over his, then dove into the heat of his mouth. He tasted minty and male . . . and very sexy.