The Last Mrs. Parrish(48)

He took a long swallow from his glass. “Amber, if there’s something I should know, something that can help, then tell me. Please.”

“I don’t think you want to hear what I have to say.”

“Tell me.”

She let out a sigh and allowed the robe to fall open just enough to show a teasing bit of cleavage. “Daphne told me the sex is boring and routine. And that she’s thrilled every month when she gets her period and knows she’s not pregnant.” She pretended to look nervous. “But please don’t tell her I told you. She told me how much you want a boy, and she might not want you to know she doesn’t feel the same way.”

He was speechless.

“I’m sorry, Jackson. I didn’t want to tell you, but you’re right: you have a right to know how she feels. Just . . . please . . . don’t say anything to Daphne.”

He remained silent, his face red and set with a grim expression that Amber saw only rarely. He was furious.

She rose from the sofa and walked toward him. She made sure her robe opened slightly against her leg as she approached him. She stood in front of him and put her hand on his cheek. “Whatever is going on, I’m sure it will pass. How could anyone be unhappy with you, Jackson?”

He took her hand from his face and held it. Amber ran her other hand through his hair and he moaned, but then slowly pushed her away. “Forgive me, Amber. I’m not myself.”

She sat next to him. “I understand. It’s hard when you discover someone you love doesn’t want the same thing you do.”

He gazed steadily at her. “Did she really say those things? That she was happy every time she knew she wasn’t pregnant?”

“She did. I’m sorry.”

“I can’t believe it. We’ve talked about how wonderful it would be. I just can’t believe it.” He put his head in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees.

Amber caressed his back. “Please don’t tell Daphne I told you. She made me promise to keep her secret.” She thought for a moment and then decided to go all the way. “You know,” she said sadly, “she was kind of laughing about it, about how she fooled you and you never even realized.” She prayed the lie wouldn’t blow up in her face, but she needed to move this game forward.

When Jackson looked up at her, his eyes were filled with confusion and pain. “She laughed about it? How could she?”

She put her arms around his neck and pulled him close to her. “I don’t understand it either. Let me help you,” she said, kissing his cheek.

He pushed her away again. “Amber, no. This is wrong.”

“Wrong? And what she’s done is right? Betraying you? Laughing at you?” Amber rose and stood before him once again. “Let me make you feel good. It doesn’t have to change anything.”

He shook his head. “I can’t think right now.”

“I’m here for you. That’s all you have to think about.” She slowly untied the sash of her robe and let it fall from her shoulders, standing before him in only the lace panties. He looked up at her, and she pulled his head toward her until it was buried against her belly. She pushed him back so she could straddle his lap, and once she had, she put her mouth against his ear and whispered how much she wanted him as she moved her hips and ground against him.

She found his lips and thrust her tongue deep inside his mouth. She felt his resistance weaken as he pulled her closer to him and returned her kiss.

Their lovemaking was fierce and powerful. They barely let go of each other when they moved into the bedroom in the middle of the night. Finally, at dawn, they fell into a deep and satisfying slumber.

Amber awoke first. She turned on her side and looked at Jackson, sleeping next to her. He had been an expert lover, an added bonus and one she hadn’t expected. She was so used to planning every move that it now seemed impossible that their being alone together in the apartment had happened so serendipitously. She closed her eyes and lay back against the pillow. Jackson stirred beside her, and then she felt his hand gliding up her thigh.

They stayed in bed until after twelve, dozing off and on. Amber was still half asleep when Jackson got up to shower and dress. He was in the kitchen making coffee when she came out, now in a long white T-shirt of Daphne’s.

“Good morning, Superman.” She moved toward him, but he backed away.

“Listen, Amber. This can’t happen again. I’m sorry. I love Daphne. I would never want to hurt her. You understand, don’t you?”

Amber felt as if she’d been struck. She took a moment to think things through, to alter her game plan. There was no way she was going to let him cast her aside. “Of course I understand, Jackson. Daphne’s my best friend, and the last thing I would ever want is for her to be hurt. But don’t beat yourself up. You’re a man, and you have needs. There’s no reason for you to be ashamed of that. I’m here for you whenever you want. Just between us. Daphne doesn’t need to know.”

Jackson looked at her. “That’s hardly fair to you.”

“I would do anything for you, so hear me again: Whenever you want. No questions asked, no strings attached, and no spilling secrets.” She put her arms around his neck and felt his close around her.

“You’re making it impossible for me to resist you,” he whispered, his lips against her ear.