Strong, Hot Winds

by Iris Johansen

  “You can always find new nuances in a classic.” He slowly sat up in bed. “And we’re definitely a classic, Cory.” He smiled. “Why don’t you come over here. You know you want to.”

  There was nothing arrogant in the statement. It was a simple statement of fact of which they were both aware. “I don’t always do everything I want.”

  He threw aside the covers and swung his feet to the floor.

  She smothered a gasp as she felt the heat tingle through her as she looked at him. Copper-bronze flesh, brawny thighs, the muscles of his stomach tight and lean, and something in his eyes that held an ancient knowledge as exciting as it was primitive.

  “But this time you will,” he said softly. “Because you can’t do anything else. It’s been too long for both of us. Do you know how many times I’ve wanted to take your clothes off and sink into you in these three weeks? I’d watch the quick, nervous way you move, the way your throat arches when you throw back your head and laugh.” His gaze went to the pink satin of the material covering her breasts. “I’d watch the way your breasts lift and fall with every breath and imagine how they’d look sweet and naked, wanting me to touch them.” His gaze lifted to her face. “You want me to touch them now, don’t you?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was hoarse, strangled. The electricity flowing between them was thick, heavy, an irresistible web of sensuality.

  He held out his hand to her. “Then let me do it. I’m not snapping my fingers tonight. The choice is yours, Cory.”

  There was no choice. And he knew it. He was playing on her sexuality with a skill that was familiar and yet a thousand times more powerful than she had ever known with him. “My choice.” She unconsciously moistened her lips with her tongue. It could do no harm to answer his piper’s call one last time. Soon she would be gone, and she doubted if there would ever be a man who stirred her as Damon did. She had found no one in the last four years who had even come close to making her realize her own sexuality. She walked slowly across the room and stood before him.

  “I do choose, Damon,” she whispered.

  He expelled his breath in a little rush. “Thank heaven.” His hands were swiftly untying the belt of her robe. “I wasn’t sure what I’d do if you said no.” He parted the robe and buried his face in her breasts. His hands slid slowly around her waist, his palms caressing her. “I love to run my hands over you.” His lips caught and tugged gently at her nipple.

  She gasped and felt her knees grow weak as fire shot through her. She swayed against him. His palms stroked the small of her back, rubbing slowly in little circles as his mouth enveloped her nipple and he began to suck, varying the rhythm from gentleness to strength.

  She instinctively moved closer, her fingers tangling in the crispness of his hair. She couldn’t breathe. The touch of his lips, his tongue … His hands on her back …

  His lips moved to her other breast, and somewhere in the haze searing through her and around her she was aware of the signs of Damon’s arousal. The pounding of the pulse in his temple, the harsh movement of his chest, his nostrils flaring with every breath, and the hotness of his flesh against her. He was burning as she was burning.

  His fingers were moving around and down her body, searching.

  Cory’s fingers tightened on his hair as he found what he sought and began to press, rotate, then press again.

  Her neck arched back as her lips parted to take in more air. “Damon …”

  His head lifted from her breast. “Tell me you like it.” His eyes were burning, wild in his flushed face. “Tell me you want me.”

  “I want … you.” Her throat was so tight she could scarcely speak.

  “What else do you want?” His teeth gently nipped her left nipple that was already sensitive from his ministrations. “This?”

  Fire flashed through her. “Yes.”

  “And this?” Two fingers plunged and began a forceful rhythm of their own.

  She shuddered. “Yes.”

  “You want me. Not any other man. Only me.”

  “Only—” She broke off as the rhythm roughened and escalated until she could no longer think.

  “Me,” he prompted. “I want to hear you say it.”

  “You.” Her fingers left his hair to clutch desperately at his shoulders.

  “And that’s the way it’s always going to be.” Her robe was suddenly falling to the floor and he was pulling her down on the bed, parting her legs and moving between them. He held her gaze with his own with a power that was mesmerizing. “I can’t make you love me.” He thrust deep, filling her. “But I can make you love this.” He undulated his hips against her and she felt the abrasiveness of the hairs on his thighs brush the smoothness of hers. His palms moved over her belly, and he smiled as he felt the muscles clench beneath his touch. “I did it before and it kept you mine for four months. It will be easier now that I have you here at Kasmara.” He tugged gently at the hair surrounding her womanhood. “Who knows how long I can make you want to stay?”

  “Damon, I don’t want—” She was bewildered. She couldn’t bear for him to leave her, yet she felt captured, held immobile between his strong thighs, and the words he was speaking were making her uneasy. She felt totally possessed.

  “I know what you want.” The sadness in his face was superseded by recklessness. “This.” He withdrew and then plunged, beginning a wild rhythm, alternating short with long, slow with fast, until she was writhing on the bed, moving against him in a chaos of fire and hunger. It was like nothing she had ever known with Damon. It was as if he were striving to dominate her with every particle of his being, dominate her with the pleasure he was giving her, control her with the movements of his body.

  And sweet heaven, he was doing it. She was conscious only of what Damon was doing to her, for her. Possession and passion intertwined until she couldn’t tell one from the other. He didn’t let her think, he permitted her just to feel. She was losing herself, becoming one with him.

  “Damon, no …” She was aware of the panic in her voice even as her hands drew him closer. “I don’t want … this.”

  “You do.” His voice was fierce. “You want to belong to me.” His fingers moved between them and she arched up helplessly with a low cry. “You do want this.”

  She wanted the pleasure but not to be bound by that pleasure as he was binding her. That golden bonding was emerging from the haze of passion, shimmering, chaining her to Damon.

  Her head thrashed back and forth on the pillow and she was conscious of Damon’s gaze narrowed on her face watching every nuance of expression crossing her face. “Why are you so afraid?” His voice was softly seductive. “Give in to me, Cory. I’m not hurting you. This is what you want from me. You want to belong to me.”

  The words were hypnotic. The rhythm of pleasure he was weaving on her body was an irresistible metronome, pounding the thought into her mind as he drove his manhood into her body.

  It went on for an eternity, the soft seductive words, the rhythm, the golden bonding becoming more alluring with each thrust, each word, each passing second.

  “Now, love.” He bent and kissed her lips, smoothing the hair from her temples. “Come to me.”

  The explosion that rocked through the both of them stunned her and left her trembling. She clung helplessly to him.

  It was several minutes before he lifted his head and gazed down at her. His breath was still coming in short, hard gasps and his eyes were wild. “Mine,” he whispered. His lips pressed her own with a gentleness that failed to veil the underlying possession. “Say it.”

  “No,” she said desperately.

  “No matter.” He raised himself off her and lay down, drawing her close. “You will soon.”

  She had come terrifyingly close to saying it only a moment ago, she realized. Their physical joining had been so complete that those words that reaffirmed that bond had almost tumbled out. “I’d like you to leave now,” she said shakily.

  “No.” He drew her closer and snugg
led her down spoon fashion against him. “From now on we sleep together. No separate space between us.” His hands cupped her breasts in his palms. “And if I feel you drifting away from me, I’ll wake you and bring you back. You’re going to belong to me even in sleep, Cory.”

  “I won’t—” She inhaled sharply as his palms began to squeeze her breasts. She couldn’t be becoming aroused again so soon.

  “You will.” His tongue rimmed her ear and his warm breath lifted a tendril of hair at her temple with every word. “You’re going to get so used to this magic between us that you won’t be able to do without it. I’ll be with you every minute of the day and every minute of every day you’ll know I’m wanting you, wanting to give you pleasure. What happened between us before will seem tame in comparison.”

  “Tame? You don’t know the meaning of the word.” She tried to move away from him. “Please. I want you to leave.”

  “Then I’ll just have to change your mind.” He moved over her again, gazing down at her with a mixture of mockery, lust, and pain. His head slowly lowered to part her lips in a slow, sensual kiss.

  Dear God, she did want him again, she thought despairingly. “I won’t change my mind,” she whispered.

  “Oh, yes, love.” His expression suddenly held a flintlike determination, and she was once again conscious of the strength of will that had vanquished her own only a few moments ago. “You most certainly will,” he said softly.

  It was several hours later when Damon fell asleep. But Cory remained awake, gazing into the darkness.

  She must leave Kasmara now.

  There was not going to be any time for planning as she had hoped. She must take Michael and run as far and as fast as she was capable. Damon had been too strong for her tonight. He had won the battle if not the war. Why hadn’t she realized that a man who had trained himself in discipline and strength would never relent? Yet she hadn’t found him relentless when she first met him. He could have shown her that same sensual mastery as he had tonight, but he hadn’t chosen to do it. Was it because she hadn’t been important enough to him then? Now she was the mother of his child and had gained enormously in value. She didn’t know; she was so confused and frightened and only one thing was clear to her.

  If she stayed, Damon would do as he’d threatened. He would make her belong to him and in so doing destroy her independence. It was as if something within her were fighting with him, betraying her time after time in a hundred different ways. Was this how her mother had felt before she had become a lifeless caricature of a woman?

  No! The thought sent a bolt of panic through her. She wouldn’t be like her mother. She wouldn’t let Damon do that to her.

  She carefully removed Damon’s hands from her breasts and slid slowly toward the edge of the bed. In another moment she was on her feet, moving cautiously around the room, gathering clothes, purse, documents, and then heading swiftly toward the bathroom. As she dressed she tried to marshal her thoughts into some semblance of a plan.

  Transportation. That should be no problem. All the jeeps and their keys were kept in the huge garage across the courtyard. The servants had grown accustomed to seeing her move freely about the palace and grounds for the past three weeks. Even if she were seen, there might possibly be no outcry.

  Destination. Damon would probably expect her to go toward Marasef, where there was an American embassy. Instead, she would head west toward Said Ababa. The relations between Said Ababa and Sedikhan were rumored to be strained, and she doubted if they’d willingly turn her over to Damon. The road leading to Said Ababa branched off the main road a few miles before it reached the village. She would pick up Michael at the villa, backtrack to the road to Said Ababa, and hopefully be halfway to the border before Damon discovered she was gone.

  Five minutes later she glided silently out of the bathroom toward the door leading to the hall.

  EIGHT

  THE POUNDING ON the door of Cory’s suite jarred Damon from sleep.

  “Damon.” Selim opened the door and flicked on the overhead light. His usually carefully combed hair was mussed, and he was dressed in jeans and a sport shirt instead of his customary business suit. “Abdul woke me. He was uneasy and thought you should be told what’s happened.” He stopped. “It’s Cory.”

  Damon had known she was gone from the moment he opened his eyes and discovered he was alone in the bed. He tried to smother the leap of sheer terror that flooded him. “What’s happened to Cory?”

  “She’s gone.” Selim went on quickly. “Abdul saw the jeep pull out of the courtyard. He knew you’d given her the run of the palace, but it seemed odd that she should be leaving in the middle of the night. He decided he should—”

  “When?” Damon was out of bed and throwing on his clothes. “How long ago?”

  “About fifteen minutes. She took the road north toward the village.”

  That went without saying. Damon knew Cory would never leave Kasmara without taking Michael. “I’ll need a jeep.”

  “You’re going after her?”

  “You’re damn right I’m going after her.”

  “I thought you would. I ordered the jeep before I left my suite. Should I call the villa and warn the Langstroms not to give up Michael to her?”

  “Do you think they’d listen?” Damon smiled crookedly. “They’re her friends and Michael is her son. They’d warn her and she’d bolt with Michael. If she doesn’t know we’re after her, she’ll move fast but she won’t panic.” He pulled on his boots as he added grimly, “I don’t want her to panic until I catch up with her.”

  “I want to go with you.”

  Damon stood up. “Why? Are you afraid I’ll break her pretty neck?”

  Selim made a face. “Something like that. This has an all too familiar sound. I was hoping we’d done with all this conflict. Let’s just say you may need a calming influence when you find Cory. It’s very bad form to break a lady’s neck in front of her child.”

  “Come if you like,” Damon said curtly as he strode toward the door. “It won’t make any difference.”

  “Are you sure you’re doing the right thing?” Bettina’s brow creased in a worried frown. “Why don’t you take a few days and think this over?”

  “I’ve thought it over.” Cory fastened Michael’s seat belt and gently tucked the blanket around him. “I’m leaving Kasmara.”

  “Mama …” Michael opened his eyes to gaze up at her drowsily.

  “Go back to sleep, love.” She pressed a quick kiss on his forehead. “We’re just going for a little drive through the desert. It will be a great adventure.”

  “Okay.” His eyes closed again. “Will Daddy …” His words trailed off and seconds later he was once again deeply asleep.

  Bettina hugged her flowered cotton robe closer to her body. “What are you going to tell Michael when he finds out you’ve left Damon, Cory?” she asked quietly. “They’ve grown very close since we’ve come to Kasmara. Michael loves his father.”

  Cory got into the driver’s seat and started the jeep. “He’ll forget. He’s known him for only a month.”

  “And will you forget too? I’ve never seen you as happy and relaxed as you’ve been since you came here.”

  Cory’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “I forgot him before.”

  “Did you?” Bettina asked dryly. “Is that why you’ve had all those platonic relationships with men during the last four years?”

  “Bettina, please! I’m doing what’s necessary.”

  “All right.” Bettina sighed resignedly before giving Cory a quick hug. “But do drive carefully, okay? Two of my favorite people are going to be riding in this jeep.”

  “I will.” Cory pressed on the accelerator and the jeep shot forward. “I’ll be in touch as soon as I reach New York, Bettina,” she shouted.

  Then the jeep was out of the courtyard and Cory turned south on the main road. Soon she was skimming down the road toward the Said Ababa turnoff.

  She blinked dete
rminedly, but the sand dunes and sky persisted in blurring together. What she was doing was right in spite of Bettina’s arguments, she told herself.

  But Michael did love Damon.

  No, she mustn’t have doubts now. She must get Michael out of Kasmara and then consider the alternatives. Perhaps if she could persuade Damon to be reasonable, they could work out joint custody. Reasonable? Good heavens, hadn’t she learned anything? Damon would never be reasonable about—

  Lights!

  Headlights piercing the darkness ahead. Two vehicles, coming fast, from the direction of the palace.

  Damon.

  Her heart jerked crazily. She spun the wheel. The jeep skidded as she made a ninety-degree turn and headed back toward the village. The turnoff to Said Ababa was closed to her, but if she could make it to Marasef, perhaps—

  A gunshot!

  No, it was only the front tire blowing, she realized a second later. Only? Then she didn’t have time to think at all as the jeep careened wildly off the road, bumping over the bordering hard-packed sand before sliding sidewise as it reached the looser sand of the dunes.

  “Mama!” Michael’s frightened voice beside her.

  The world turned topsy-turvy. The jeep crashed over on its side like a wounded dinosaur.

  Blinding pain in her temple. No, please, this mustn’t happen.

  Michael …

  Darkness.

  Green eyes glittered down at her. Damon’s eyes, she realized hazily. He would help Michael. No matter how angry he was with her, he would keep Michael safe. “Michael …” Her voice was so weak she didn’t think he heard it. She tried again. “Help … Michael.”

  “Michael’s fine.” Damon’s voice was thick. “The seat belt saved him. You were the one who hit the ground when the jeep toppled.”

  Michael was all right. Relief poured through her. “Thank God,” she whispered.

  He nodded jerkily. “Go back to sleep. The doctor said you need to rest.”

  “Doctor?” She turned her head to look for him. Hot needles of agony drove through her temple.