by Valerie Parv
What was she thinking? She was aboard the plane at last, and all she could do was mope about Tom. Later would do for that. Right now, the tape was what mattered.
She had chosen the interior décor herself, from the exotic wood paneling to the creamy leather upholstery on the armchair-like seats separated by marble-topped tables. Under the seats closest to the door was a compartment designed to hold valuables that didn’t warrant being locked in the safe. She knelt on the thick Persian carpet and reached.
The compartment was empty.
Muttering, she felt around under the seat. A small object lay on the floor beside the compartment. The tape must have been jolted from its hiding place during flight. Her breath pumped as her fingers closed around it.
Sitting back on her heels to examine it, she almost wept. The tiny cartridge was splintered almost in two, the tape shredded where it had snagged on the jagged edges of the case.
A police laboratory might be able to salvage the contents but she’d have to get the tape to them before Jamal caught up with her. And did his best to convince the authorities to send her home to Q’aresh.
She pressed her knuckles against her temples, refusing to see herself as beaten. Think, she ordered herself. But the restless night and the strain of the day had taken a toll. Her mind treadmilled on the tape, as shattered as her hope of using it to expose Jamal’s treachery.
This wouldn’t do. She needed to think and formulate a plan, but her brain wouldn’t cooperate. The heat must still be affecting her. Tom had recommended splashing water on her face and wrists. She could do better than that. The plane was equipped with a washroom where she could take a proper shower. Afterward she might be able to think straight again.
Stowing the damaged tape in her bag, she walked into the sleeping cabin.
She hadn’t actually spent a night aboard the plane, but the designers had allowed for passengers to nap during a long flight, and had turned the limited space available into an inviting stateroom. The washroom opened off the stateroom.
After what she’d been through, the plane seemed almost decadent in its opulence. Living out of one satchel made a mockery of the vast closets filled with clothes at her father’s palace.
She opened the door to a tiny closet. The clothes she kept aboard the plane were still there, pushed to one side to accommodate Jamal’s things. She returned the favor, pushing his clothes aside to inspect the garments. Most were totally unsuitable for Outback conditions so she closed the door on them.
The cool shower went a long way to making her feel human again, dispelling the last of the dizziness, but leaving her feeling limp with exhaustion.
She looked out the plane window. Below her, Tom had removed a panel and was tinkering with something mechanical. By the time she’d dried her hair, he still hadn’t finished his task.
Enjoying feeling really cool for the first time in days, she pulled on a terrycloth robe and padded to the stateroom, the carpet soft under her bare feet. Tom had also prescribed rest. Only a few minutes, long enough to be sure she was recovered enough to face the dangers ahead.
Chapter 12
“The damage isn’t too serious, but I’ll need some tools I don’t…” Tom’s voice tapered off as he entered the main cabin and found it empty. A strange sensation clutched at his chest. Where was Shara? For a moment he couldn’t deal with her absence, until common sense told him she couldn’t have left the plane without him knowing.
Then he saw a door leading to another cabin. A bedroom, he saw when he pushed the door open. He stopped in his tracks. Like the embodiment of Sleeping Beauty, she lay on her side on the bed. One hand was tucked under her cheek, the other rested in front of her.
He felt the impact like a fist slamming into him. With her hair fanned out on the pillow, she looked like every man’s fantasy. His fantasy. Her lovely features were serene, long lashes sweeping over dusky cheeks. Her terrycloth robe quivered ever so slightly with each breath.
The plane must run to a bathroom, because she looked freshly showered. Her hair shone like satin, and the cabin smelled of enough female potions to overload his senses.
She looked breathtaking, but then, he hadn’t found her hard to look at when she’d been wearing his shirt. If anything, the hint of shapeliness under the ranger’s shirt had given his imagination more of a workout than the little she had on now.
Not that he had any problem with now.
As if becoming aware of his scrutiny, she stirred, lashes fluttering then eyes widening. She sat up, clutching the edges of the robe to keep it from slipping open. “How long was I asleep?”
“Not for long. I’ve inspected the damage and it’s fixable as soon as I can borrow the proper tools from Judy’s mechanic.”
“I found the tape,” she said.
He drew his own conclusions from her tone. “I gather the news isn’t good.”
She nodded. “It’s useless until we can find an expert to retrieve the data on it. It must have been shaken out of the compartment when we dodged Jamal’s bullets.”
“He really is a piece of work.”
Her shaky smile rewarded him. “The difficulty is in proving it.”
“We’ll manage it somehow.”
“Yes, we will.” She uncoiled her long legs, shortening his breathing by a considerable margin. “I’ll get dressed and we can go to Judy’s mechanic.”
He felt a really bad mistake coming on, and wondered if he had the strength to keep from making it. Almost immediately, he knew the answer. “It’s too hot to go anywhere for a couple of hours. If there’s enough water on board, I’ll follow your example and clean up first,” he said.
She licked her lips, destroying his last hope of resistance. “And second?” she asked.
If the shower was cold enough, they might not get to second, he thought, doubting if the plane’s water supply could ever be that frigid.
“We’ll worry about second when things cool down,” he said, carefully not being more specific. As much for himself as her, he said, “When Jamal finds out we’re not in Derby, he’ll come looking for his plane.”
“My plane,” she corrected. “He’s not likely to look for us for a few hours, is he?”
“Probably not.”
Her gaze held steady on his. She knew what was in his mind, he thought. Dare he hope the same thought was in hers? “Then we can take these hours as a gift,” she said, leaving him in no doubt.
Could he? She was certainly a gift he’d never hoped to receive, and she seemed to want him as much as he wanted her. She also knew the truth about his past, and claimed not to care. What more did he need? An engraved invitation?
“Where’s the bathroom?” he asked, his voice betrayingly husky.
When he came out she was in the same spot, apparently relaxed against the banked pillows, her expression composed. Then he saw that her hands trembled ever so slightly.
She might think she was ready for him, but she wasn’t. Tom didn’t want to entertain second thoughts. Not when his first were so appealing. But he couldn’t follow his impulses in good conscience unless she felt the same.
He hitched the towel more securely around his hips, appreciating the thickness of the fabric hiding his growing arousal. His shower had only made his blood run hotter as he pictured her waiting for him.
Had she ever been with a man? She’d certainly been kissed before, but as a princess, she’d led a sheltered life. If her experience ended at kissing, was it fair of him to take advantage of her present vulnerability, knowing that he couldn’t give her the happily-ever-after ending she deserved?
When had he become a saint? he asked himself. She might be a princess but she was a grown woman, a free agent, as he was. Her life couldn’t have been so sheltered that she didn’t know what she was inviting.
He eased himself onto the edge of the bed and took her hand, feeling a slight shudder. Anticipation or apprehension? He wished he knew.
He grazed the back of her hand with his mouth.
“I’m sorry about the tape.”
She swallowed hard, but didn’t pull free. “Me, too. But Jamal is bound to betray himself some other way. He’s totally unprincipled.”
Right now, Tom didn’t feel too principled himself. “I should go to the old farmhouse,” he said, not moving.
“Yes, you should.” But she leaned closer and kissed him lightly, making nonsense of her denial.
Already feeling himself swell, he kept from groaning by the slimmest margin. He had nothing to offer her, no future. Without hard evidence they were no closer to eliminating Jamal’s threat. For now, he couldn’t make anything matter except a hunger for her, as unstoppable as a bushfire raging through him.
She cupped the back of his neck. “When Jamal shot at us, I thought it was all over.”
“So did I.” He’d fought the damaged plane to a safe landing not only because he wanted to live but to save her. For himself? For her, he amended the thought. He couldn’t imagine a world without her in it. Desire swept through him, so powerful it eclipsed everything but the rightness of being with her. “Second chances are rare. I don’t want to waste ours.”
“Nor I,” she said.
He nuzzled the soft skin between her shoulder and chin and heard her groan of surrender. Her palms slid over his chest, tracing the marks of his initiation. His need felt like an inferno inside him.
This time he did groan. But with the pleasure of fastening his mouth on hers. He slid his hands under her wonderful hair and pulled her against him, letting her feel exactly what she was doing to him. His mind became hazy and he forgot all the reasons why he shouldn’t do this. Forgot everything but how sensational she felt in his arms.
Her hands linked around his neck. The nip of her teeth at his lower lip sent sensation spearing through him. He kissed his way along her shoulder to her throat, feeling her pulse flutter like a trapped bird. It was a reminder to go slowly, to teach as well as take.
Easier said than done, he thought as her lips parted. Unable to stop himself, he plunged deeper, hearing her dragging intake of breath. He teased, he tasted, he nipped, feeling her shudders of response. When he tried to pull back, telling himself he should go slowly, she followed, taking the lead this time, until he was the one driven to the brink.
Feeling the power of his arousal, Shara was almost scared by what she had unleashed. Tom was no undergraduate, as inexperienced as Shara herself. He was a man in every sense, as capable of wrestling crocodiles as he was of making love to a woman. His air of danger and power both fascinated and frightened her.
Fascination won and she gave herself up to his kisses with a passion that surprised and elated her. Her awareness spiraled until there was nothing but his roughness against her smoothness, the feel of his sure hands exploring, touching, arousing until she wanted to cry out with excitement.
She had never suspected it could be like this between two people. Nothing in her experience had warned her what heights of unimaginable delight a simple touch could elicit. Nor how powerful she would feel in her turn, as her seeking, stroking hands carried him to the edge with her.
He trapped her hands between his. Sliding a hand under her sweetly rounded bottom, he lifted her with him as he stood. Given his state of arousal it was no mean feat, but he was determined to treat her like the princess she was.
Setting her beside the bed, he swept the covers and tasseled pillows aside then reached to bring her closer, parting his legs so she stood between them, her lithe body aligned with his.
Insatiable hunger gripped him. He burned, he ached, he wanted as he had never wanted before. Lifting her, he lay back and took her with him onto the bed, rolling until he was stretched out beside her, one leg covering hers. Somewhere during the maneuver he’d lost the towel. He began to ease the robe off. “Uniform of the day,” he pointed out.
Breathing hard through her mouth, she sat up and shrugged the robe off her shoulders. As it fell away he drew a deep breath of admiration. She looked exactly as he’d dreamed she would, all dusky flesh, the roseate peaks of her breasts hardening as he caressed them. “You’re so beautiful, I can’t believe you’re real,” he whispered.
“I’ve never felt so real, so alive,” she admitted. “I feel as if I’m balanced on the edge of a cliff, and if I step off I’ll soar like an eagle.”
“We can soar together.”
Only then, she pulled away a little. “Tom, I haven’t—”
He touched a finger to her lips. “It’s all right.”
“How can it be? I don’t know anything. What to do. How to make you happy.”
“You make me happy simply by being who you are. Everything else can be learned.”
“You make it sound simple.”
“It is simple,” he assured her. “You have to admit, you haven’t done badly so far, for an amateur.” He guided her hand down to his erection so she could gauge for herself how well she was doing.
Her eyes danced as she stroked him, testing his control to the limit all over again. “Such power.”
He didn’t know whether she referred to him or herself. His ego wanted to claim the compliment, but he suspected the power was mostly in her hands. She’d made him want her more than he’d ever wanted any woman. Made him break every rule he’d ever set for himself.
She knew the worst about him and yet she was here, her long limbs tangled with his as she befuddled his senses with her jasmine scent, and the softness that made him so very, very hard.
Still he held himself in check, wanting to do all he could to make this glorious for her. Levering himself onto one arm, he used his free hand to slide along her creamy flank. When she reached to pull up the covers, he stayed her hand. “You have no need to hide from me. You’re perfect.”
“Oh, Tom.” Having him see her as perfect was a gift. Always she had been aware of her imperfections, starting with being born female. Her tutor had been an opportunist. Even Jamal wanted to marry her for her royal status, not because he worshipped her as Tom was doing now.
His fevered mouth was exploring places she had never imagined could be tasted by a man. The result was a mindless, dizzying onslaught of pleasure almost beyond bearing. She sucked in a panting breath, pressing her hands to his head and arching her back. “Tom, I can’t stand it. I can’t…”
She couldn’t help it. Overwhelmed by feelings she could scarcely begin to name, she screamed his name. Time stopped, then started again as every part of her throbbed in time with the rush of blood through her veins. Most of all she was aware of a sense of euphoria washing over her in waves that slowed and slowed until her mind caught up with her body again.
Mustering her voice with an effort, she said shakily, “I had no idea anything could feel like that.”
He gave her a heavy-lidded look. “We haven’t even begun.”
She laughed lightly. Surely he wasn’t serious? “How can anything be better than that?”
He touched a hand to the side of her face. “Give me a moment, then I’ll show you.”
Still held in passion’s thrall, she could barely lie still as he left her to pad into the bathroom. His absence, brief though it was, chilled her. Aching, heating, yearning, she wanted him back.
She wasn’t so much of an innocent that she didn’t recognize the condom in his hand. Frantic for his return, she resented the seconds he took to cover himself, although she should be thankful one of them had given protection a thought. It should have been her, but it hadn’t.
If Tom had wanted to make love to her without it, she would have let him without thinking of possible consequences. At the same time, she couldn’t help imagining the joy of bearing his child. A boy as fearless as Tom himself. Or a beautiful little girl they could spoil. How could she regret that?
Would he?
She felt a twinge of fear. Was he protecting her or himself? Surely he meant this to be a beginning for them? She refused to believe she was the only one.
Then he was taking her in his arms again, his hungry
mouth banishing her fears. He ran a hand over her flat stomach and she trembled. It was the first teasing step in a game that seemed designed to make her mindless with desire.
Tom felt her tremors in his own body, and recognized them for excitement. When he’d brought her to ecstasy before, he’d almost lost his own tightly leashed control. Only his determination to make her first time wonderful had kept him from tumbling over the edge.
Now the precipice reopened in front of him as she closed her eyes and arched like a bow under his questing hands. He took shallow breaths until he felt steadier, then opened them to drink in the sight of her. Could a man ever have enough of such beauty?
Knowing he was playing with fire, he lowered his head and worshipped her breasts in turn with his mouth, hearing her breath catch as her nipples hardened. He let his fingers play over her silken skin, lower and lower, until he eased her legs apart and slid one of his between them.
His blood sang with the need to take and ravage, negating thousands of years of civilization. Feeling anything but civilized, he struggled to keep his touch gentle, to give her time to be ready for him.
Her eyes turned glassy and she shook from head to foot. “Tom, please.”
Willing himself to go slowly, he lifted his aching body over her and into her, slowly until the first resistance was past, then more completely, fighting the urge to plunge deeper and deeper. Finding himself more aroused than he had ever been, as he fought to hold back for her sake.
At the intrusion, her fingers bit into his shoulders, but her hips lifted to meet his first tentative thrusts. He heard her breath hiss between her teeth, although she didn’t cry out. The thought of hurting her was more than he could stand, so he stilled for a moment, giving her time to catch her breath.
Then as he moved carefully, she began to move in rhythm with him. He saw delighted surprise on her lovely face as she absorbed that the fleeting pain was over, and the pleasure only beginning.
What seemed like an eternity later, but couldn’t have been more than minutes, she came down to earth with a rush, trembling and weak, but happier than she had known it was possible to be.
