Blue Velvet

by Iris Johansen

  He shuddered but not with cold. His flesh against her own was burning hot. "Perhaps we could talk later," he said, his palm splaying over her jean-clad bottom. "I think I've lost my train of thought anyway. I think it was going to begin with something about how I realize that you don't know me all that well and how unfair it was of me. . ." He drew a deep breath as he jerked her hips forward so that his iron-hard arousal was pressed boldly against her. "Oh hell, you do know me, at least in the Biblical sense. What's one more time?"

  One more time. The phrasing made her vaguely uneasy but only for a moment. She was having trouble thinking at all through the haze of heat that was beginning to surround her. Beau's hands were working swiftly at the fastener of her jeans and she was suddenly confused about who was seducing whom. "What about my turn?"

  "Sometime when I haven't been without you for a century or so," he said thickly. "But I'll be mag­nanimous and let you help." He pushed her away. "It will be quicker if we both take off our own clothes anyway." He patted her bottom briskly. "Hurry."

  She tried, as much as fumbling fingers and curi­ous eyes could hurry. She wanted to watch him as he undressed with that swift athletic economy of movement. She hadn't gotten a chance to look her fill that morning at the pool. He was all power and lithe supple muscle, his buttocks hard and tight, the line of his thighs and calves developed to whip­cord toughness. She slipped her tennis shoes off and left them with the rest of her clothes as she stood and gazed at him admiringly.

  "You have very nice legs," she said dreamily. "Is that from skating?"

  He glanced up from slipping his own shoes off, his lips twitching. "Thank you. I suppose that exer­cise had something to do with my marvelous phy­sique. You, on the other hand, have utterly fantastic breasts and I'm quite sure you did nothing at all to deserve that boon." He shook his head with mock mournfulness. "Most unfair." He took her hand and led her to the bunk. "However, I'm sure that a little well-directed calisthenics can only improve them. Let's see, shall we?"

  "Whatever you like," she said, her lashes demurely veiling the mischief in her eyes. "I wouldn't want to be accused of being uncoop­erative. You've already convinced me I'm a nag."

  "Whatever I like," he repeated softly. "It will be what you like too, Kate. I promise." As she would have sunk down upon the bed he stopped her with his hand on her arm. "No, not that way. Some­thing different, remember?" He sat down on the edge of the bed and drew her down on his lap. "Something beautifully, excitingly different."

  It was already different. The hardness of muscle and bone against her cushioned softness, the flick­ering heat in Beau's golden eyes, the urgent arousal pressing against her thigh. Different.

  "It's always been beautifully exciting, Beau," she said laying her head confidingly on his chest. His heart was pounding erratically against her ear, but his hand was infinitely gentle as it stroked her curls. "It's as if you're giving me wonderfully pre­cious gifts every time."

  His laugh was a husky chuckle beneath her ear. "You've certainly got an original way of expressing yourself." He ruffled her hair. "It's definitely mutual, little Sheba. It would be highway robbery

  to charge you one hundred twenty talents for this." He was swinging her around to face him, posi­tioning her legs on either side of his hips on the bed. "Though I'll industriously endeavor to prove I'm worth every single talent." He drew her close, his hands rubbing up and down on her back in lazy circles. "Isn't this nice?" he whispered in her ear. "I can touch almost every part of you." He made a minute adjustment and he was suddenly pressing against the center of her womanhood. "And you can touch me."

  Her hands clutched spasmodically at his shoul­ders. "Yes, very nice," she said faintly. Nice wasn't the word for it. She had never felt more vulnerable in her life and there was a liquid burning that was becoming a throbbing ache deep within her. "Do you suppose we could get on with more in-depth touching?"

  "When this is so sweet?" His drawl was boyishly playful. "And we haven't even started your exercise regimen yet." One hand cupped her bottom, retaining the contact while the other hand moved to her shoulder and pushed her body backward so that her spine was arched and her full ripe breasts were offered temptingly. "That's better," he said. "Now just keep that position, sugar. Do you feel the tension? Maintaining the tension is very impor­tant in any exercise curriculum, you know."

  "No, I didn't know," she said faintly. "And yes, I do feel the tension." The position was almost unbearably erotic. The slight strain of the muscles in the small of the back and hips, the vulnerability of her open thighs and Beau's almost blinding sen­sual gaze on her breasts. "Beau?"

  "You want more?" His bronze head was bending with maddening slowness until his lips were only a breath away from the pink crest of her breast. "So do I." His lips enveloped her nipple with teasing delicacy while his hand dropped from her shoulder to her other breast and began a rhythmic massage that caused a shudder to ripple through her. "Keep the tension, love," he muttered, his tongue licking the pink aureole teasingly. "It will make it better for you. I want it to be so good for you, Kate."

  She was trying but it was becoming increasingly difficult when each muscle and bone in her body felt as if it were melting away like molten lava. Her breath was coming in little gasps and she instinc­tively tried to clench, hold, but there was nothing.

  "Not yet." Then as her back arched in the tension he was demanding, his lips and hands accelerated their rhythmic pressure. "That's the way." His voice was a low velvet croon. "Sweet, soft Kate." His hands dropped away from her breasts to slide around her, one cupping her buttocks, the other at the small of her back, arching her even more. "Now, we'll do a little of that in-depth touching you were talking about. But slowly, very slowly." His lips enveloped her breast with strong suction while his hand on her bottom began to push her slowly forward. His hand arching her back prevented her from thrusting forward and wresting control from him. A little, then a little more, hotness, fullness, but never enough. Her breasts were heavy and swollen, his tongue and teeth an aching torment. He was moving so damn slowly! She felt herself clench around him trying to hold him, invite him, entice him. She heard him gasp and give a low shaky laugh. "Oh, that was sweet. But don't do it again, love. I don't think I could take it."

  "What do you think about me?" she said, closing her eyes as his hand lazily caressed her back before resuming the pressure against her bottom. "I can't stand this!"

  "Yes, you can." His lips switched to her other breast to give it equal homage. "We're almost home, Kate." He suddenly pushed hard and strong and was filling her completely. She gave a low guttural moan of infinite satisfaction. "What a lovely sound." His breathing was becoming labored. "Let's hear it again." He jerked her up and forward and this time her gasp was a keening cry of need.

  He lifted his head from her breasts and wrapped his arms around her. His lips were buried in the curls at her temple. "Oh, Lord, this is wonderful. I never knew anything could be so fantastic. And it couldn't with anyone else." His hands were caress­ing her naked back with loving gentleness. His lips covered hers and his tongue thrust deep and probing. He raised his head and drew in a deep breath as if his lungs were starved of oxygen. "Only you, Kate. Only with you."

  He didn't wait for her to answer, his hands were on her hips, moving her, thrusting, penetrating so deeply it made her gasp. It was so wild and sweet and hot that she moved from peak to peak with scarcely a breath in between. It was unbelievable that any sensation this exquisite could be sus­tained for so long but somehow Beau accom­plished the impossible. It seemed an eon later that the final peak was reached and they collapsed back on the bed in a state of euphorically languid exhaustion.

  Sleep followed as inevitably as a rainbow after a sunlit storm. Gentle sleep, held securely within strong possessive arms. So wonderful to be held so lovingly with her ear pressed to Beau's heart, hear­ing the steady vital cadence and knowing she could make that metronome erupt into rapid explosive-ness at a single touch. B
ut not now. Now it was enough to know they had all the time in the world to enjoy that magical intimacy. Beau had looked so tired and strained up on deck. He needed to rest. Her arms unconsciously tightened around him. Rest, love, while I guard you from the world. Lay down your arms. Sleep, and I will shelter you from all loneliness and ...

  * * *

  "Kate, wake up."

  She was awake. She was just enjoying being stroked with such affectionate tenderness. She opened her eyes drowsily. He was sitting on the side of the bed completely dressed, no longer vul­nerable but still every bit as beloved. Still, she felt a little ripple of disappointment. "I wanted to take care of you."

  "What?" He frowned. "I think you're still half asleep. We'll be docking in Santa Isabella soon and we need to talk."

  He handed her a white toweling robe that looked vaguely familiar. Oh yes, she'd worn it that first night on the Searcher. It seemed such a long time ago. Docking so soon? They must have slept for longer than she'd thought. The rays streaming through the porthole of the cabin were much longer and weaker now. It must be quite late in the afternoon.

  "You said you wanted to talk before," she said, giving him an impish grin as she slipped her arms into the sleeves of the terry robe and tied the sash about her waist. "We never appear to get around to it, do we? Something always seems to interfere. First, the Guardia, then my wound, then—"

  "We've run out of time," he interrupted with a soberness that made her vaguely uneasy. "We have no choice now." His smile was mirthless. "I wish to heaven we did."

  She moistened her lips nervously. "So talk. I'm listening."

  He stared at her helplessly as if wondering where to begin before letting his breath out in an explo­sive sigh. "Oh hell, there's no use beating around the bush. As soon as I get the preliminary immi­gration red tape out the way, I'm sending you to Briarcliff to Anthony and Dany."

  "Sending—" Her eyes were wide and shocked in her suddenly pale face.

  "You'll be much better off with them. There are things they can give you, things you deserve to have." He was speaking rapidly, his gaze fastened somewhere over her left shoulder. "They're great people and you'll learn to love it there."

  She shook her head dazedly. "We've talked about this before. I told you there's no possibility I'd go to Connecticut. I thought you understood that."

  "I understand that you don't know what's good for you," he said gruffly. "You'd rather wander around the world as my mistress because of that blasted streak of independence. Well, you're my wife now. You have a claim on me. There's no rea­son for you not to take advantage of a few of the fringe benefits."

  "Isn't there?" she asked dully. The shock was ebbing, leaving only pain. "I thought you said the marriage was for your benefit. Does that mean you're going to go sailing off on your merry way as soon as you put me on a plane for Briarcliff?"

  "No!" The denial was swift and immediate. "I told you the situation had changed. I'll be around. Do you think I could just let you go now that I know how trouble seems to follow you?"

  He'd be around. Of course he would. He couldn't let his little waif wander around without his pro­tection. He'd promised to give her his strength, knowledge, and experience. But she mustn't think of those gravely beautiful words. They hurt too much. After all, he hadn't promised her love. She hadn't dared wish for that and he'd been very care­ful not to promise her anything he couldn't deliver. He was too honest for that. But not too honest to use a little subterfuge to get his own way. Her gaze slipped away from his face. "You lied to me." Her eyes were stinging with tears she refused to let fall. You weren't honest with me, Beau."

  "I know it," he said harshly. "Do you think I don't? It was necessary. It was for your own good, damn it."

  "Who gave you the right to decide what was good or bad for me?" Her voice was shaking. "Who the hell gave you that right, Beau?"

  "No one gave it to me. I took it." His gaze at last returned to her face. "And I'd do it again, Kate. If it meant keeping you safe, you can bet there'd be absolutely no question about it." He ran his fin­gers through his hair. "Now, for God's sake, be sensible."

  "Sensible!" Oh, Lord, her voice was close to breaking. She was so close to breaking. She had to get rid of him. Pity was already the paramount emotion he felt for her and she'd be damned if she'd add fuel to that pity by dissolving into tears. She carefully steadied her voice. "I'll try to be sensi­ble, Beau." Her smile was shaky. "Ill have to think about it. You'll have to give me a little time."

  "Kate." His hand reached out impulsively as if to touch her hair but paused in midair. "Oh, hell!" he said with soft violence. He stood up. "You'd better get dressed. We should be docking any time now." He was striding swiftly toward the door. "I'll see you up on deck."

  The door slammed behind him and her pent-up breath released in a rush. She had a little while now to let the pain flow over her and come to grips with it. She mustn't cry though. Her eyes mustn't be red when she joined him on deck. She'd just sit here and soon she'd be strong enough to face him again. See, she was better already. Her throat wasn't nearly as tight and if she kept her mind per­fectly blank she'd be able to keep it that way.

  Unfortunately for her excellent intentions, her gaze fell on the strange and beautiful ring still on her finger. The rose and the sword. Pure magic, Daniel had called it. But the magic hadn't lasted very long, had it? Her hand cradled the ring lov­ingly, not even aware of the slow desolate tears that began to rain down her cheeks.

  Ten

  "I forgot to give this back to you," Kate said quietly, extending the ring to Daniel. "It was very kind of you to lend it to us."

  Daniel's large hand closed on the ring and thrust it carelessly on his finger. "I thought so." He grinned. "I've never been a best man before. Actu­ally, the entire business was less embarrassing than I thought it would be." He leaned back and stretched his bare powerful legs as far as was pos­sible in the confines of the back seat of a taxi. "Toward the end of the ceremony I was beginning to feel so solemn and upright it was positively nauseating. I wouldn't want to do it too often, how­ever, or I'd probably become just as boringly responsible as Beau's getting."

  Kate was staring blindly out the window of the taxi. Responsible. The word cut with the sharp­ness of a scimitar. Not love or even desire, respon­sibility. "No, you wouldn't want to do that," she said drearily. "Beau has enough of that particular virtue for all of us." She could feel Daniel's gaze on her profile sharpen and tried to rouse herself. "Where are we going? I'm afraid I didn't pay any attention to what you told the driver when we got into the cab."

  "The village. It's a very exclusive resort on the other side of the island. According to Carruthers, besides the central hotel it has a number of private bungalows situated on the beach. Beau told me to take you there and get you settled while he went to see your friend Brenden and tried to get a line on your birth records. He said to tell you he'd make arrangements for you to see Brenden and Rodri­guez tomorrow. In the meantime he thought you might want to replenish your wardrobe at the shops in the main hotel. He made a call and arranged for them to bill the Lantry conglomerate for anything you decided you wanted."

  "How very generous of him," Kate said ironically. But then she'd known he'd be generous, at least monetarily. She only wished that generosity could have been more emotional than financial. No, she wasn't being fair. He'd shown her tenderness, laughter, passion, everything but love. It wasn't his fault he didn't have that to give her. Just as it wasn't her fault she couldn't accept the pity he offered in its place. "I won't need very much. Just a few changes of clothes."

  She must be careful not to buy too much. Those shops would probably be exorbitantly expensive and it would take forever to pay Beau back after she left him. That she would leave him wasn't even in question. It was inevitable, and it must be soon. Very soon. She had to escape so she could begin to heal.

  "Don't be too modest in your demands." Daniel's eyes were twinkling. "You're a married woman now. T
here's such a thing as community property, you know."

  "If you mean to imply Beau owes me something just because of that ceremony we went through, that's utterly ridiculous," Kate said tautly. "Beau said that too. Nothing's changed just because of a few words that were spoken over us. I'm still me, with my own obligations and duties. And Beau" —her voice was becoming maddeningly husky— "Beau is still Beau." Golden-eyed recklessness, strength, and tenderness. Beau.

  There was a moment of silence. "I think I detect a note of discord in honeymoon heaven," Daniel said slowly. "I noticed Beau was a little uptight but I thought it was because he was impatient with all that red tape he's having to unwind. Dealing with bureaucratic types isn't his favorite pastime." He paused. "But it's more than that, isn't it?"

  She kept her eyes firmly fixed on the window. "Yes, it's more than that." She tried to smile. "I'm afraid your ordeal was all for nothing, Daniel. This is one marriage that was over before it started."

  "Uh-uh." The negative was so firm it brought her startled gaze back to his face. "I detest wasted effort. It's a little idiosyncrasy of mine. After I com­promised my image so drastically there's no way I'm going to let you untie the knot without good reason." His voice softened. "I saw your face after Beau had put my ring on your finger. You were glowing like a Sedikhan sunrise."

  "That has nothing to do with it," she said shak­ily. "You heard Beau. It was only a convenience to get me past Immigration."

  "A marriage of convenience?" Daniel scoffed. "Not likely, Kate. They went out with jousts and suits of armor. Beau wouldn't be involved with an idiocy like that."

  "You obviously don't know him as well as you think you do." Her smile was sadly sweet. "That's exactly the kind of idiocy that Beau would become involved with. He's out to save the poor little orphan at any cost. He married me because he thought that was the only way I'd let him take care of me." She blinked furiously to keep the tears at bay. "Well, he was wrong. He should have known that blasted ceremony wouldn't make any differ­ence."