Accidental Family Read online

  "I'm not talking about just the family movies." She reached up and tucked a curling tendril of her hair behind her ear. "I'm talking about pictures too…vacation snapshots, family portraits, that kind of thing."

  Robin could see she had his undivided attention now.

  "There are pictures all over every room," she said. "It's no wonder that Tony can't get his mom and dad out of his mind. Their images are hanging on every wall of this house."

  It was true. And almost as if the far wall had magnetic powers that attracted their eyes, they both turned and stared at the arrangement of family photos.

  "They are everywhere," Jonas whispered.

  "And every time Tony sees them…"

  "He's reminded of Jeff and Sara," he finished her thought.

  Robin nodded.

  There was an intensity in Jonas's green gaze when he looked at her. "Let's pack them away," he said. "The pictures, the movies, and anything else that might remind Tony of Sara and Jeff."

  For a moment, she said nothing. The doubt that flared inside her was like a scalding poker that made her reach out and grasp Jonas's forearm with both hands.

  "Wait," she said. "Are we sure this is the right thing for us to do? Let's just think a minute." Surprised by the strong emotions churning, threatening to surface, she was struck by a powerful flash of indecision. "I mean, would Jeff and Sara want us to take down all their family pictures? Would they want us to take them away from Tony?"

  Sudden anger glittered in Jonas's eyes. It seemed to come from nowhere and it startled Robin.

  "Look," he snapped, "are we going to sit around second-guessing ourselves, or are we going to do what we think is right for that little boy upstairs?"

  "Jonas…" her hands slid down his arm until she was cradling his fingers in hers "…I'm not finding fault, here. I'm not placing blame. It was my idea, remember?"

  He sighed slowly, his anger scattering like dust on stiff breeze.

  "I simply want to make sure we're doing the right thing," she said.

  After clearing his throat, he murmured, "I'm sorry. It's just that..."

  Robin shook her head. "Don't apologize. I'm sharing every bit of your frustration. We do need to help Tony get through this. We need to do whatever it takes to help him get beyond this awful mourning. We've got to help his little heart mend."

  "I completely agree." He slowly rubbed his palms together. "Okay, then. I'll finish here…and you start pulling down pictures?"

  Even though she felt she and Jonas were doing the right thing, she couldn't deny the heavy blanket of sadness that enveloped her as she slid picture after picture from the hooks on the walls of the house. There were so many of them. She traveled from room to room, scanning the walls, the bookcases, the tabletops. She found framed photos everywhere, she even came upon an unframed picture of Jeff and Sara kissing that had been pinned up on the inside door of the medicine cabinet in the master bathroom. Her hand hesitated, thinking it unlikely that Tony would ever venture into this room. But finally she pulled the picture from its resting place, feeling that if she was going to do the job, she might well do it thoroughly.

  Once her arms were full, she'd make a trip to the family room and deposit the pictures on the coffee table. And when that was full, she used the sofa. After a fourth or fifth trip back to the family room, she saw that Jonas had come up with a box from somewhere and was wrapping the picture frames in newspaper before carefully, gently packing them away. He glanced up at her, a tiny, forlorn smile on his lips. He dipped his head to continue his task, and Robin was completely overtaken by a wretched depression. She looked in at the stacks of photos, movies and family albums that were scattered across the table and sofa. She never realized it until now, but these pictures were all she had left of her brother. The black depths of the emptiness inside her yawned wide.

  Why, oh, why had she waited so long before understanding what he meant to her? Why had it taken his death to make her realize that she should have been running toward her family, not away from them?

  Feeling her bottom lip begin to tremble uncontrollably, she scurried out the doorway and into the kitchen. She leaned against the counter, her fingertips pressed tightly against her mouth. Her hand trembled.

  As Robin stood there in that quiet, empty room, she understood for the first time in her life that she was all alone. Her father, her mother and now her brother were lost to her forever. The sorrow that welled within her was too great to keep stuffed inside. She closed her eyes against the tears, but they came anyway. They coursed down her cheeks, and before Robin realized it, her shoulders were shaking, her throat swelled and ached as the sobs racked her body.

  The sound of Robin crying had Jonas on his feet and in the kitchen in an instant. Her grief was palpable, and he sympathized, utterly and completely. Without saying a word, he wrapped his arms around her and held on.

  He could feel the anguish pour from her in the way she clutched his back and hugged him to her tightly, in the onslaught of her teardrops as they soaked the fabric of his shirt at the shoulder.

  She needed to cry, he knew that. She needed to mourn. Hell, so did he. The both of them had been so involved in helping Tony, in easing his pain, neither one of them had given themselves the opportunity to truly grieve for the loved ones they had lost.

  He and Robin had suffered, too. However, both of them had been too stubborn, too stiff-necked to give in to it fully. And they were paying for it now.

  Jonas hadn't shushed her, she realized. He hadn't said a bunch of empty, meaningless words in some attempt to console her. He'd simply held her, somehow knowing that that was what she needed, and she was so grateful for that.

  Through the haze of her agony, Robin felt Jonas's breathing become ragged. She dragged her head from his shoulder and looked into his handsome face. The moisture that filled his eyes turned them to glittering orbs. One tear spilled over and trailed down his cheek. Without thinking, she reached up and captured it on the pad of her index finger, then she pressed her palm against his jaw.

  "I'm sorry," she whispered hoarsely. "I never meant to..."

  He stopped her by placing his fingers gently against her lips. "Don't you dare apologize."

  His voice brushed against her skin like warm honey, sweet and liquescent.

  "Just know that I'm here for you."

  What he said was simple, but it started fresh tears flowing. She'd never had that. She'd never had someone there for her, someone to reach out to in times of trouble. However, she knew deep down in her soul that it was nobody's fault but her own.

  She slid her hand over the back of his and cradled her cheek against the warmth of his palm. Closing her eyes, she reveled in how alive he felt.

  At that moment, she wanted to tell him everything she was feeling. She'd never confided in anyone in her life, but right now she felt an overwhelming need to make someone understand her.

  With her tears flowing freely, she began, "Seeing Jeff there on the television... I was stunned. I felt... paralyzed. I wanted so badly to reach out and hug him to me, to tell him how much I've missed him, how much I love him."

  Jonas nodded. "I know," he said. "I felt the same way seeing Sara."

  Robin squeezed her eyes shut. "But it's been over a year since I'd seen them." The words grated painfully against her throat as she forced them out. "Why didn't I come and visit them more often? I could have. Why did I wait to know my brother until it was too late? It's too damned late."

  Jonas remained silent, realizing that what was happening here to this woman was something more complicated than grieving for the loss of her brother. She needed comfort. She needed someone to listen. But he couldn't stop the frown that creased his forehead. What did she mean when she'd said she'd waited too long to get to know Jeff? How could she have a brother and not know him? It seemed nonsensical.

  She nestled her face in the curve of his neck, and the questions running through his mind were forgotten as he slowly became cognizant of his body's r
eaction to being pressed against Robin, thigh to thigh, belly to belly. The smell of spring flowers and warm sunshine wafted around him, and he fought the impulse to bury his nose in her curly hair.

  Grinding his back teeth together, he silently railed, Control yourself, man. The woman needs sympathy. She needs solace. Keep your horndog thoughts out of this.

  A battle ensued, a skirmish between mind and body. The rational part of his brain, wielding logic and compassion, put a choke hold on his more carnal nature, but desires of the flesh were powerful, cagey and resilient.

  Robin didn't know what spurred her to act so shamelessly. She hadn't even realized she was thinking of doing it until after the deed had been done. It could have been the feel of his arousal pressed against her hip. It could have been the woodsy scent of him. It could have been the way his strong hands massaged her back. Whatever the motivating factor, a thoroughly lustful notion budded to life. She wanted to stop the questions that spun in her head, she wanted to stop the guilt, the sadness, the pain. And she wanted to feel. She wanted proof that she was alive.

  She only had to turn her head the merest fraction and her softly pursed lips were pressing against the hot skin of his neck. She raised her mouth a little higher, loving the roughness of his whiskers against her sensitive lips. Blood thudded through his carotid artery and she closed her eyes, touching the tip of her tongue to the racing pulse.

  Inhaling his scent deeply into her lungs, she rose up on her tiptoes and took his earlobe between her teeth. She suckled it gently before kissing her way down his jaw. He inhaled sharply, and her heart leapt with joy.

  She was alive. Vividly so. Death and grief were banished, at least for this one moment.

  Stopping at his chin long enough to nip the skin, she soothed the spot with her tongue and then moved along his jaw, planting kisses that were both tender and erotic.

  Robin relished the effect her kisses and tiny, laving tastes had on him. His heart pounded beneath her palm, his skin became feverish, his breathing grew more rapid and ragged. She could see it, feel it, hear it…and that caused salacious reactions in her own body.

  "Robin."

  Her slightly open mouth was pressed against his throat when he said her name and the sexy vibration did something to her. The passion that had been languidly building inside her now accelerated with alarming speed.

  The startled gasp she uttered when he pulled her from him exposed her utter disappointment. A silent question danced in his gaze.

  "Please, Jonas," she murmured, caring not one wit that her voice sounded like that of someone starved and in desperate need of sustenance.

  He searched her eyes. But then he buried his fingers in her hair and covered her mouth with his.

  His kiss was sweet and blazing hot, and she lost herself in the scarcely bridled onslaught. His tongue played lightly on her lips, patiently waiting for an invitation to enter. She gave him more than just an invitation; she parted her lips for him and met him with a passionate need that startled even herself.

  He groaned, and her body offered a sultry answer to the deep, rich sound as if it were a request. Her breasts grew full and heavy, her stomach churned with giddy anticipation, her skin screamed for his touch. The wild urgency that roused her to her very being was both frightening and exhilarating at the same time. Never had she experienced this magnitude of… need.

  She wanted to get closer to him, though pressed against him as she was, she thought the urge impossible to fulfill. But Jonas proved her wrong.

  Even as he kissed her, he lifted her so that she sat perched on the edge of the marble counter. Her knees slid apart as if the rules of this game were already imbedded in some deep recess of her brain. He pushed himself against the fire at her core. She sighed, and as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do, she wrapped her legs around his middle, drawing him in even closer.

  The taste of him, the feel of him, the smell of him… all these things made her feel more vibrant and full of life than she had in... in... Than she had in her whole entire life.

  She weaved her fingers through his dark, silky hair and realized just how badly she'd been wanting to feel its silky texture.

  She felt the fierce pounding of his heart, or was that thumping from her own? It must be hers, because the blood coursed through her veins at a rate that made her light-headed and wonderfully dizzy. Sliding her hand down his back, she grinned against his mouth when she learned that his heart, too, was hammering a furious rhythm.

  "What?" he whispered, his voice hoarse and barely audible.

  She pushed her hair out of her face and smiled into his eyes. "Let's go upstairs."

  He didn't hesitate. He pulled her off the counter, locked his hands around her waist and turned toward the hallway.

  Squeezing her thighs against his middle, she held on for dear life. She kissed the tip of his nose, his temple, his lips, his chin.

  His strong hands cupped her rear as he climbed the stairs. She felt safe in his arms, and the security he lent only seemed to heighten the passion that danced like dervishes, throbbing and febrile, to some wickedly carnal melody.

  He pushed open the door of his bedroom with his foot and Robin was relieved that he didn't take the few extra seconds it would have taken to move farther along the hallway to her room. She couldn't wait for him to slip out of his clothes so she could see him, all of him, and feel his bare skin against hers.

  With him supporting her, she loosened her grasp around his middle and set her feet onto the rug. The floor seemed to dip and sway as she unbuttoned his shirt with quick and nimble fingers. She shoved the fabric from his shoulders and let it fall, and she inhaled deeply the warm male scent of his smooth skin.

  Her fingers trailed over the muscular curves of his shoulders and chest. His dark, springy hair tickled her palms, and she circled the hard nubs of his nipples with her thumbs. His breath caught, and she chuckled deep in the back of her throat.

  Looking directly into his eyes, she reached down and released the button of his pants and ever so slowly tugged down his zipper. Although she didn't linger there, she knew his arousal strained against the fabric of his trousers. Purposefully steering her touch away from that part of his body, she slid her fingers around his waistband.

  His eyes went heavy-lidded, and this time her low laughter was seductive, knowing.

  "Enjoying my discomfort, are you?" he whispered.

  She was helpless against the grin that tugged at one corner of her mouth. "Actually…I'm enjoying it very much."

  One of his dark brows arched. "Then I think it's my turn for a little enjoyment."

  Before she realized what he intended to do, she felt his palms slip under her T-shirt. His hands grazed the sides of her breasts, releasing inside her a heady, tingling sensation. He gently tugged the shirt over her head and tossed it aside.

  His eyes were no longer on her face, and her breathing quickened as she realized that she was the cause of that rapt look in his green gaze.

  Leisurely, he dipped his index finger beneath the lacy edging of her bra, and as he moved up, up, up at a tortoise-like pace over the swell of her breast, the smoothness of his nail sliding flat against her tender flesh nearly brought tears of joy to her eyes. He continued the motion until the strap of her bra was curled in his finger. With a gentle tug, he pulled it over her shoulder, then bent and kissed the spot where the strap had been.

  The moment his lips touched her skin, she felt her nipples tighten into taut buds within their lacy confines.

  He saw. He knew. And when he gazed into her face there was a teasing glint of sweet success in his eyes that made her blush.

  "Now this," he said. "This is good."

  He leaned toward her to kiss the delicate curve of her neck, and she closed her eyes and tilted her head to give him full access.

  It was then that it happened. The shadows of doubt crept into her mind: What on earth was she doing? Both of them would regret the hell out of this tomorrow.

/>   Along with the doubt came the sorrow and grief, anguish and pain that had closed in on her downstairs in the kitchen. When she reached up to touch Jonas's shoulder, she saw that her hand trembled.

  No! her mind screamed. She wanted to flee from those horrible feelings. She wanted to run away from the realization of being all alone in the world. She didn't want to think about her brother's death, or her sister-in-law's death, or that Tony grieved so badly he couldn't fall asleep at night.

  Jonas was alive. He was here. Right now. He was living, breathing. And his kisses, his touch, his passion made her feel energetic and vivacious. She wanted to lose herself in him. In this. She didn't give a damn what tomorrow brought.

  Taking him by the hand, she went to the bed and lay down, pulling him on top of her. His weight felt good. It felt right.

  "Kiss me, Jonas," she said, ignoring the complete and utter desperation she heard in her voice. He did kiss her, crushing his mouth to his. And Robin gratefully let herself be swept away.

  ~ ~ ~

  It was after midnight. Bright moonlight filtered through the window, stroking the shadowy walls of the bedroom with an almost mystical radiance.

  Jonas smoothed his index finger over the creamy skin of Robin's shoulder. He couldn't believe what had happened between them. Couldn't believe that the woman beside him, the woman who, just a couple of weeks ago, he would have described as distant and cool, that very same woman had nearly scorched him with her passion.

  He'd been blown away by the depth of her desire. The intensity of their lovemaking had been... mind-boggling... as nothing else he'd ever experienced.

  When he'd heard her crying in the kitchen, he had known she was grieving for her brother and he'd gone to her with the sole purpose of consoling her. He hadn't for a second thought that the tenderness he'd meant to offer would turn into an awesome, wondrous, totally unexpected sexual encounter.

  But she had needed him, and he had realized that from the way she'd clung to him, from the words she'd murmured into his ear.