The Cinderella Deal - Jennifer Crusie [67]
“Poor baby.” Daisy flicked her tongue over his lips. She stretched lazily on top of him and then looked up and froze. “Oh, no.”
“What’s wrong?” He spilled her off him as he rolled to see what she was looking at, but he kept his arms around her to hold her close.
Jupiter was sitting in the doorway to the hall, staring at them with his one good eye, his tongue lolling out of the toothless side of his mouth. While they watched, his bad hip gave out, and he slid over onto one side on the polished wood floor and lay there like a drunken odalisque.
“He watched.” Daisy put her head on Linc’s shoulder, overcome. “We’ve probably scarred him for life. He’ll never have a normal sex life now. Other dogs will be interested in him, attractive dogs, sweet, kind, caring dogs, dogs that could fill his life with intense physical pleasure, but no. No, Jupiter will never be able to accept the love of any other dog because of this traumatic Christmas morning.”
I am the luckiest man on the face of the earth, Linc thought, but all he said was “Jupiter’s been neutered.”
“You have no imagination,” Daisy said.
He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Want to bet? Get the chocolate syrup and the vacuum cleaner and meet me upstairs.” Daisy laughed, and he pulled her close to feel her body shudder with her laughter. “I love you, but you’re corrupting me. I told a story last night to get Julia into Evan’s bed.”
Daisy’s mouth dropped open, and then she grinned. “Julia slept with Evan?”
Linc snorted. “How should I know? Julia went home with Evan. I’d say it’s a fifty-fifty chance.”
She tightened her grip on him as her smile widened. “What kind of story? Tell me. Nobody ever tells me stories.”
“Big rats at the inn. It sounded better with eggnog.” Linc fell into her smile again and suddenly wanted her again. And he could have her. This was such an amazing thought that he kissed her until she was breathless and then pulled her to her feet. “Come with me, Magnolia. There are condoms upstairs I want you to meet.”
“Your present’s up there too.” Daisy smiled at him over her shoulder as she headed for the stairs.
“Good. Get the syrup.”
“No, a real present. Making love isn’t a present.”
“It is if you do it right. We do it right.”
“Yes, we do, but that’s not it.”
She took him into the studio. “I finished it yesterday morning,” she said, and he stood, amazed.
The Linc in the portrait was solid, and strong, and successful, massive in bluish tones of black, white, and gray. He was turning, his right shoulder a mass of charcoal gray, his left a block of black, broken only by the slashes of grayed white that suggested strong hands holding an open book. But it was his face, rising out of the monolith that Daisy had painted as his body, that was riveting. She’d sculpted the planes of his face so they were strong and brooding, and his eyes were lit with intelligence. It was the portrait of a statesman, the portrait of a man of learning, the portrait of a man of substance and worth and intelligence and power. “Is this how you see me?” he asked, flattered beyond words.
“Well, it’s part of you.” Daisy glanced toward a canvas that was turned to the wall. “I’m sorry it’s so cold.”
He cupped her face in his hands and said, “It’s magnificent,” and then he kissed her.
I’ll tell him about the other one later, Daisy thought, and then she just thought about Linc.
Julia came over in the afternoon for leftovers, and Daisy lured her into the kitchen with a request for her to carry things to the table.
“So you stayed at Evan’s last night.” Daisy pulled the plate of cold turkey from the refrigerator.
“Yes.” Julia grinned, remembering. “There are giant rats at the inn. I had to.”
Linc came in and picked up the platter of cold turkey. “Hi, Julia,” he said, and then he kissed Daisy full and hard on the mouth before