by Linda Howard
“I kept thinking: What if I couldn’t hold on to you? What if something hit you? If anything had happened to you—” He bit his words off, his face growing darker.
Susan was stunned. “But you were in danger, too.”
He shrugged, utterly indifferent to his own fate. Perhaps that was how he faced all dangers, with complete unconcern, and perhaps that was why death hadn’t found him yet. He didn’t fear it, and therefore it didn’t seek him. But he had been afraid for her… Her mind stopped, almost afraid to take the thought any further. She simply pressed close to him once again, her hands clinging to his neck.
He rubbed his bristly cheek against her forehead, his hands tightening on her. “Susan.”
She loved the sound of her name on his lips. With unconscious sensuality, she moved her breasts against him, the hair on his chest feeling like rough silk against her sensitive nipples. “Ummmm?” she murmured bemusedly.
“I want to make love to you. Will you let me?”
The thought, the rough thread of need in his voice, made her shiver in delight. She lifted her mouth to him, simply and without reserve, and he took it with a tender fervor. He kissed her for a long time, their tongues meeting in mutual need, while his hard fingers found her breasts and stroked them until they hardened and thrust out for his touch.
He lifted his head and gave a low, shaky laugh. “Is that a yes?”
“That’s a yes.” Despite the weeks they’d been apart, the anger between them, she wasn’t shy with him. She was his, in the purest sense, and always in his touch she had perceived his genuine pleasure, the care and concern he gave her. His passion might border on roughness in his urgency, but he never hurt her, and she knew that he never would. Her trust in his physical care of her was so great that despite the rift between them, she knew that she had nothing to fear from him. And for this moment, there was no rift, no pain or disagreement; all of that had retreated, and would arrive with the sunrise, but for now there was only the sweet fever between them.
She could have fought him, could have insisted that he preserve the distance between them, but in the aftermath of the storm, none of their reasons for argument seemed very important. She loved him; she didn’t want to fight him. After what they’d just been through, she wanted only to hold him and feel his hard, warm flesh against her, reassure herself that he was unharmed. He was so infinitely precious to her that she didn’t want to waste a moment of this time they had together by holding him off. She’d worried herself sick about their situation anyway, and it hadn’t changed anything. Let the sunrise bring its troubles; she had the nighttime, and for now that was enough.
He was slow, and exquisitely gentle, using his kisses and the boldness of his stroking fingers to bring her to fever pitch before he stretched her out on the seat, his hard hands controlling her even when she reached for him, trying to pull him down to her. Susan writhed in blind delight, small cries escaping from her throat, her eyes tightly closed as her head rolled slowly back and forth. He was suckling leisurely at her breasts, his tongue curling around each of her aching nipples in turn, a caress that sent bolts of ecstasy shooting through her body. She was no longer cold, but burning with a radiant glow, her body arching up to his.
Deftly he moved her, rearranging her legs, and his mouth left her breasts to trail down her stomach, his beard softly rasping her satin flesh and making her gasp at the rough pleasure. His tongue found her navel and he kissed her, paying homage to her for a long, sweet moment before moving on to a richer treasure.
A startled cry tore from her when he claimed her with his mouth, kissing her deeply, making lightning forays with his tongue that pushed her toward the edge so swiftly she couldn’t breathe. Then she forgot about breathing as her fingers tangled in his damp hair; he was killing her with pleasure, stabbing her to death with his devilish tongue, and she rushed to meet her small death. He held her securely until she was calm again, lying peacefully in his arms; it was several moments before she realized he was doing nothing but holding her.
“Cord?” His name was an expression of bewilderment. “What about you?”
“I’m all right.” Very gently, he tilted her face up and kissed her. “It’s just that I’m unprepared; I don’t have any way to protect you.”
His unselfish consideration jolted her, but the ecstasy he’d just given her wasn’t enough. She didn’t want just simple release; she wanted him, with all his delicious masculinity, his driving power, the very essence of the man. She reached out for him, her soft hands touching his face. “I want you,” she said in a low voice. “Would you mind, very much, if we took the chance?”
A shudder rippled through him, and he moved swiftly to lie over her, parting her thighs and taking her, a groan of pleasure breaking from his lips. He held nothing back from her, his urgency communicating itself to her. He was shaking in a way she’d never seen before, and she tried to soothe him with her yielding softness. All too soon he was hoarsely crying out his satisfaction; then he sagged against her to rest.
After only a moment they were both shifting uncomfortably. During the heat of their lovemaking, neither had noticed their awkward positions or cramped limbs, but now they seemed to be fighting a tangle of gearshift, steering wheel, and door handles, all of which were in uncomfortable places. Cord chuckled as he tried to untangle himself from her and still manage not to maim himself.
“I think we’ll be more comfortable in back; God only knows why we didn’t get in back anyway.”
With the backseat folded down they had considerable space, though still not enough for Cord to stretch out his long legs. He’d cut the motor, so they had to depend on the one blanket and each other for warmth, but now that Susan was dry she didn’t feel the chill so much. They lay on half of the blanket, and he pulled the other half around them. Susan nestled in his arms, quietly happy. “I’m so tired,” she murmured, then smothered a yawn. She didn’t want to sleep, didn’t want to waste any of the time they had together, but her body was demanding rest. The stress of the past weeks, the emotional tension and fear she’d experienced today, had all taken their toll. Her limbs felt as heavy as lead, and her eyelids simply would not stay open.
She yawned again, her eyes slowly closing. She put her hand on his chest, where she could feel the strong, steady beating of his heart. He was so big and tough; she felt infinitely safe and protected when she was with him. “I do love you,” she told him quietly, not needing anything now beyond the telling of it. She’d just wanted to say the words aloud this once, when there was peace between them. It was a gift, a simple gesture from her heart.
“I know,” he whispered against her temple, and held her while she slept.
He hadn’t expected to sleep at all; his senses were too raw. He had been sure that he would feel the restlessness that always seized him if there were anyone else about while he slept. But the rain kept drumming on the roof of the Blazer, and the darkness enclosed them like a cave; he was warm and dry, and his body pleasantly satisfied. She was soft in his arms, small and delicate, so completely feminine that from the moment he’d met her he’d found himself tempering his strength lest he accidentally hurt her. This afternoon, when she’d been crying and beating on her steering wheel, he’d felt as if he’d taken a punch in the chest; she simply wasn’t the weepy type, yet he’d hurt her enough to make her cry, and he hadn’t meant to. He’d been infuriated to hear that Preston had run off and left her to shoulder everything, that instead of Preston knuckling under and sacrificing, it had been Susan. He had to end this, as soon as he could, for Susan’s sake. She was at the end of her rope, physically and emotionally.
She loved him. Once a woman’s offering of love would have made him impatient, restless to be gone. He couldn’t offer anything in return, and he hadn’t wanted the complications of clinging hands, teary scenes, or the incredible plots of revenge some women could concoct when they felt they’d been wronged. Judith’s death had scarred him deeply, left him so wary of being wounde
d like that again that he’d instinctively protected himself…until Susan. She’d gotten in under his guard, and because she didn’t demand anything of him, he found himself giving more.
Still, he hadn’t realized, until she’d practically ordered him out of her house and out of her life, just how close she’d gotten to him. He’d felt lonely, and he was a man who treasured his solitude. His healthy body had burned for sexual release, but other women seemed unattractive in subtle ways he’d never noticed before. He didn’t want other women; he wanted Susan, with her serenity like a halo around her. Susan, who became a sweet, loving wanton for him, only for him.
Now she was in his arms again, pressed against his heart, just where she belonged. He moved drowsily, seeking a more comfortable position, and she moved with him, her soft hands holding him even in her sleep. It was the most uniquely satisfying experience of his life, and a slight smile touched his hard mouth as he went to sleep.
As often happens after a storm, the next day dawned sunny and warm, but without the suffocating humidity that had been weighing down on everyone. It was as if nature were pleased by the destruction it had wrought. Cord’s eyes blinked open, and for a moment he stared at the expanse of innocent, deep blue sky. The interior of the Blazer had already heated under the morning sun, and a trickle of sweat ran down his side, tickling him. He twitched, and Susan stirred, stretching. He rolled to his side and watched as she slowly came awake, her eyelashes fluttering. The blanket fell away, revealing her slender bare body, her full, pretty breasts and succulent nipples. His loins tightened, and he put his hand on her hip. “Honey, we have to leave soon,” he said huskily. “Before we go…?”
Susan heard the question, the intent in his voice, and she turned to him. “Yes,” she said drowsily, reaching out for him.
He took her gently, slowly, holding the world at bay while they loved each other. When it was done he leaned over her, his weight supported on one elbow, his eyes very clear and demanding. “Stay with me. Don’t go back to the office. I’ll take care of you, in every way.”
Tears blurred her eyes, but still Susan managed a smile for him. As the salty liquid seeped from the corners of her eyes, she said shakily, “I have to go back; I can’t just turn my back and walk away from everyone who’s depending on me.”
“What about me? How can you turn your back on me?” His words hit her hard, and she flinched.
“I love you, but you don’t need me. You want me, but that’s entirely different. Besides, I don’t think I have what it takes to be a mistress.” She reached up and stroked his bearded cheek, her mouth trembling. “Please, take me home now.”
Silently they dressed in their damp, incredibly wrinkled clothing, and Cord began the torturous drive, detouring time and again as their way was blocked by fallen trees or downed power lines. They passed utility crews who were hard at work, trying to get new lines up, and in some cases new poles. The sounds of chain saws split the peaceful morning air as men began cleaning up the debris. What was normally a fifteen-minute drive took well over an hour, but finally Susan was tumbling out the Blazer’s door into Emily’s arms. The older woman’s worn face was tight with concern.
“My lands, just look at the two of you,” she breathed, and tears sparkled in her eyes.
Cord managed his devilishly casual smile. “I think we look pretty good for two people who’ve been lying in a ditch.” Actually, every muscle in his body was protesting, not only from sleeping on a hard, cramped surface, but from the beating he’d taken from the hailstones. For the first time he saw a bruise high on Susan’s cheekbone, and he reached out to touch it with his thumb. She stood very still under his touch, her eyes filled with pain and longing.
Emily wiped her tears away, and hustled them both inside, bullying them shamelessly now that she knew they were safe.
“Both of you get upstairs right now and take a hot shower, and toss those filthy clothes out so I can wash them—”
“I’ll be leaving in a minute,” Cord interrupted her. “I’ve got to see if I can get to the cabin and check for damage. But if you have any coffee brewed, I’d appreciate some.”
She brought him a cup and he sipped it gratefully, the hot liquid sending new life into his body. Susan stood watching him, her arms limp at her sides, wanting to do as he said and go with him, forget about everything. Without knowing that she had moved, she found herself in front of him, and without a word he set the cup aside and folded her tightly in his arms. He kissed her roughly, almost desperately, as if he would imprint his possession on her mouth, and as Susan clung to him she felt the acid tears burning down her cheeks.
“Shhhh, shhhh,” he soothed, lifting his lips at the salty taste. With his fingertips, he wiped her cheeks dry; then he framed her face between his big hands and held it turned up so he could see into her drowning eyes. “Everything will be all right. I promise.”
She couldn’t say anything, so he kissed her again, then released her. He gave Emily a swift hug and left, not once looking back.
Susan jammed her fist against her mouth, trying to hold back the sobs that shook her, but they burst out anyway. Emily led her upstairs and helped her undress, then took away her soiled clothing and laid out fresh garments while Susan stood under the shower and cried.
She knew there were a thousand things that needed doing, but she couldn’t summon any interest in any of them. She wanted only to curl up on her bed and cry until she couldn’t cry any more. It was all just too much; she couldn’t fight any longer. It was a measure of her willpower that she had controlled her tears by the time she left the bathroom; she sat down and dried her hair, then applied a careful blend of makeup to hide the traces of her tears. After dressing in the casual slacks and shirt that Emily had put out for her, she went downstairs for the meal that she knew Emily would have ready. She wasn’t hungry, but eating was a necessity that she’d been neglecting lately, all to no good. She wouldn’t be able to keep the corporation from bankruptcy, even if she divested herself of everything she owned except her clothing, then held a yard sale to get rid of even that.
She sat on the patio all day, soaking up the sun, dozing, thinking, but her thoughts only went in circles and produced nothing. She called Imogene and explained why she wouldn’t be at the office that day; she had no idea when Cord would be able to get the Audi back to her, but she found that it was the one bright spot she could see right now: She would be able to see him again when he did bring it to her.
She was probably a fool not to have taken him up on his proposition, she thought tiredly. She should just forget about tomorrow, about all the duties and obligations that she’d always served; she should go with Cord and take what love she could get from him. He cared; she knew he did. Perhaps he didn’t love her, but she knew that he’d offered her more than he’d ever offered any other woman, except Judith. Poor, hurt, confused Judith, who was now the point of all this enmity years after her death. Because everyone had failed her, because she’d died, Cord was trying to make it up to her now, to get revenge for her, and for himself, perhaps, so he could be at peace.
She’d told him that she didn’t have what it took to be a mistress, but what did it take, really, except a woman in love? She thought longingly of spending every night with him, of traveling around the world beside him. She’d always been a woman who was happy with her hearth and home, but for Cord she would learn to wander, and lay her head on a different pillow every night if that was what he wanted.
It was only a matter of time, anyway, before the life she knew was all over. She had failed; she couldn’t pay the loan.
When Cord still hadn’t brought her car back by the next morning, Susan called and asked Imogene to pick her up; there was nothing more she could do, but she would continue to handle the office and make the myriad decisions that still had to be made every day. The ship might sink, but she wouldn’t make a confused mess of it. Dignity and grace in defeat, that was the ticket.
Giving herself pep talks didn’t h
elp much. She was agonizingly aware that she’d lost on both sides. She’d tried to heal the rift in the family, but instead it had grown deeper. Cord might want her, care for her, but how could he ever trust her? He’d asked her to stay with him, but instead she’d given her aid to Preston. Knowing that Cord was wrong didn’t ease the hollow ache inside her.
She had to face everyone at the office, where they had all somehow heard that she’d almost been caught in a tornado. Several tornadoes had ripped through Mississippi that night, and one close to Jackson had hit a residential area, leaving two people dead, but her acquaintances and employees were only interested in the local one, which had missed all the populated areas and destroyed only trees and newly planted crops. She managed to be very casual about it, and her lack of detail soon killed their interest.
When she went home that night she found the Audi there, and disappointment speared her. Why couldn’t he have brought it when he knew she would be home? But perhaps he was avoiding her. She stared at the car for a long moment before thanking Imogene for the ride.
Imogene reached over and patted her hand. “Is there anything I can do?” she asked. “Anything I can say to Cord? I know you’re not happy, and I feel like it’s all my fault.”
“No, it’s not your fault,” Susan denied, managing a smile. “I made my own decisions, so I imagine I’ll have to live with them.”
Emily was still waiting, and she made a pretense of cleaning up the kitchen while Susan ate, but Susan had a feeling that she had caught on to Susan’s habit of disposing of the food instead of eating it. As she dutifully ate the last bite, Emily nodded in satisfaction. “Cord told me to make certain you were eating. You’re too thin. This business is tearing you apart, and I’m ready for it to end.”
“It won’t be long,” Susan sighed. She hated herself for asking, but she had to know. “Did he say anything else?”
“He said he lost one of his trees, but it fell away from the cabin, and there’s hail damage to the roof, but other than that everything came through the storm okay.”
