The Novels of Nora Roberts, Volume 2

by Nora Roberts

  She tipped her head back, moaning when his mouth raced down her throat. “Give me five minutes to cancel my afternoon appointments and we’ll both be ecstatic. Brian, put your hands on me, for God’s sake.”

  “It’s not going to be easy.” He nipped at her ear where a little emerald stud winked at the lobe, worked his way restlessly back to her mouth to plunder until her nails dug into his shoulders. He saw himself taking her there, where they stood, just dragging down his fly, dragging down her neat trousers and plunging in until this desperate need, this vicious frustration, was behind him.

  But he didn’t touch her, didn’t take her. Instead, he used the ache churning inside him to control them both. He wrapped his hand around her throat, drew her head back until their eyes met. Hers were the green of restless seas, urging him to dive in.

  “It’s going to be my way. You’re going to have to accept that.”

  Nerves shuddered through desire. “Listen—”

  “No, we’re done with that. Done with the games too. You could’ve backed off, but you didn’t. Now it’s going to be my way. When I come back, we’re going to finish this.”

  Her breath was coming fast, her blood pumping hot. For a moment she hated him for being able to study her with eyes so cool and controlled. “Do you think that scares me?”

  “I don’t think you’ve got sense enough to let it scare you.” And he smiled, slowly, dangerously. “But it should. When I come back,” he repeated and stepped away from her. “And I won’t give a damn if you’re ready.”

  She steadied herself and grabbed for some pride. “Why, you arrogant bastard!”

  “That’s right.” He walked toward the door, praying he could make it out before the aching for her made him groan aloud. He shot her a last look, skimming his gaze over the tousled, sunlit hair, the eyes that sparkled with a range of dangerous emotions, the mouth that was still swollen from his. “I’d go tidy myself up a bit, doc. Your next patient just pulled up.”

  He let the screen slam behind him.

  THIRTEEN

  LITTLE Desire cottage wasn’t much of a detour on the way back to Sanctuary. In any case, Jo thought, scrambling to justify it, the walk would do her good.

  Maybe she wanted to take some afternoon shots of the river, see how many more wildflowers had bloomed. And since she’d be walking by, it would be rude not to at least stop in.

  Besides, it was family property.

  She even worked out a little just-passing-by excuse, did some mental rehearsing to perfect just the right casual tone. So it was quite a letdown to get to the cottage and see that Nathan’s Jeep was gone.

  She stood at the base of the stairs a moment, debating, then quickly mounted them before she could change her mind. There was nothing wrong with slipping in, just for a second, leaving a note. It wasn’t as if she would disturb anything or poke around. She just wanted to—Damn it, his door was locked.

  It was another minor jolt. People on Desire rarely locked their doors. Too curious now to worry about manners, she pressed her face to the glass panel and peered in.

  On the long table that served the kitchen area sat a compact laptop computer, frustratingly and neatly closed. A streamlined printer stood beside it. Long tubes that she assumed held blueprints were stacked nearby. One large square of paper was unrolled and anchored at the corners with a jar of instant coffee, an ashtray, and two mugs. But no matter how she shifted or angled her head, she couldn’t make out what was printed on it.

  None of my business anyway, she reminded herself, straining to see. At a crash of leaves behind her she stepped back quickly, looked over her shoulder. A wild turkey cut loose with its quick, gobbling call and lumbered into flight. With a roll of her eyes, Jo patted her skipping heart. It would be perfect if Nathan himself strolled out of the trees and caught her spying into his house.

  She reminded herself that she had dozens of things she could do, dozens of places she could go. It wasn’t as though she’d gone out of her way to see him. By much.

  It was probably best that she’d missed him, she told herself, as she jogged back down the stairs and headed home. Taking the Palmetto Trail, she followed the bend of the river into the thick shade where muscadine vines and resurrection ferns turned forest to verdant jungle.

  She didn’t need the kind of distraction, the kind of complication that Nathan Delaney was bound to bring to her life just now. She was just getting back on her feet.

  If she pursued a relationship with him, she’d have to tell him about ... things. And if she told him, that would be the end of the relationship. Who wanted to get tangled up with a crazy woman on their vacation?

  The path twisted, crowded in by the saw palmettos that gave it its name. She heard the turkey call again, and the long, liquid notes of a warbler. Her camera bag thudded at her hip as she quickened her pace and argued with herself.

  So, by not starting anything, she was just saving them both time and embarrassment.

  Why the hell hadn’t he been home?

  “Ssh.” Giff put a hand over Lexy’s mouth when he heard footsteps coming along the path near the clearing that was guarded by thick oak limbs and cabbage palms. “Someone’s passing by,” he whispered.

  “Oh.” In a lightning move, Lexy grabbed her discarded blouse and pressed it to her breasts. “I thought you said Nathan had gone over to the mainland for the day.”

  “He did. I passed him on his way to the ferry.”

  “Then who—oh.” Lexy snickered as she peeked through palm fronds. “It’s just Jo. Looking annoyed with the world, as usual.”

  “Quiet.” Giff ducked Lexy’s head down with his. “I’d just as soon your sister not catch me with my pants down.”

  “But you’ve got such a nice ...” She made a grab for him, and muffling giggles, they tussled until Jo passed out of sight.

  “You’re a bad one, Lex.” Giff pinned her, grinned down into her face. She still wore her bra—they hadn’t quite gotten around to disposing of it—and he enjoyed the sensation of the slick material rubbing against his chest. “Just how would I have explained myself if she’d come over this way?”

  “If she doesn’t know what’s going on, it’s time someone showed her.”

  With a shake of his head, he leaned down to kiss the tip of her nose. “You’re too hard on your sister.”

  “I’m too hard on her?” Lexy snorted. “Let’s try that the other way around. It fits much better.”

  “Well, maybe you’re too hard on each other. Looks to me like Jo’s had a rough time with something lately.”

  “Her life’s perfect for her,” Lexy disagreed, pouting and twirling a lock of Giff’s hair around her fingers. “She’s got her work, all that traveling. People ooh and aah over her photographs like they were newborn babies. Or they study them like stupid textbooks. And she makes piles of money, enough so that she doesn’t have to worry about stingy trust funds.”

  Love tugged at him as he skimmed his knuckles over her chin. “Honey, it’s a pure foolish waste of time for you to be jealous of Jo.”

  “Jealous?” At the shock of the insult her eyes went dark and wide. “Why in holy hell would I be jealous of Jo Ellen?”

  “Exactly.” He kissed her, just a little nibbling peck. “The two of you are after the same thing. The way you are and the way you go after it are as different as night and day, but the goal’s the same.”

  “Really?” Her voice was cool and smooth as fresh milk. “And what goal would that be?”

  “To be happy. That’s what most people want down under the rest of it. And to make their mark. Just because she’s made hers before you doesn’t make yours less important. And, after all, she had three years’ head start.”

  It didn’t placate Lexy in the least. Her voice went from cool to icy. “I don’t know why you brought me out here if all you wanted to do was talk about my sister.”

  “Honey, you brought me.” He grinned and kept her pinned under him despite her bad-tempered wiggles.
“As I recall, you moseyed on down to Sand Castle Cottage, where I was minding my own business, replacing screens. You whispered a little something in my ear, and as you already had this here blanket in your tote, what was a man to do?”

  She lifted her chin, raised a brow. “Why, I don’t know, Giff. What is a man to do?”

  “I guess I’ll have to show you.”

  He took his time and that left her a little weak and trembling. The night before, everything had poured over her in a hot rush. Need on top of pleasure, pleasure clawing at need. But today, in the cool air and dim light, his hands were slow, calluses scraping gently over her skin, fingers pressing, then skimming. And though his mouth was hot, it didn’t hurry. It came back to hers again and again, as if hers was the only flavor he needed.

  When she sighed, it came from deep within.

  She could be seduced as well as taken. He’d waited a lifetime to do both, to watch her let him do both. There was nothing about her that wasn’t precious to him. Now he could show her, inch by inch. One day soon he would tell her, word by word.

  When he slipped inside her, her moan of welcome was sweet and silky. He braced himself over her to give more, to take more, and his pace was as lazy as the river that flowed nearby.

  She whimpered when he lowered his head to suck gently on her breasts.

  “You come first,” he murmured. “So I can see you.”

  She couldn’t have stopped herself. She was being carried along like a weightless leaf on the river’s current. The orgasm flowed through her, long and lovely and deep. She could barely sigh out his name as it slid through her system.

  His mouth came back to hers as it curved, and he emptied himself into her.

  “Mmmm.” It was all she could manage as he rolled her over and snuggled her head on his chest. She’d never had a climax like that—one that crept up from the toes like silk-dipped fingers.

  And he’d seemed so in control, so completely aware of her. Only the thunder of his heart under her cheek proved that he’d been as undone as she.

  She smiled again, and turned her lips to his chest. “You must have done a lot of practicing.”

  He kept his eyes closed, enjoying the air on his face and her hair under his hand. “I’m a strong believer that you keep working on a skill until you get it right.”

  “I’d say you got it right.”

  “I’ve wanted you all my life, Lexy.”

  It made something inside her shiver to hear him say it, so simple, so easy. Caught in the afterglow, she lifted her head, and when she looked at him, that something shivered again. “I guess, deep down, I’ve always wanted you too.”

  When his eyes opened, and the look in them made her mouth go dry, she put on a sassy grin. “But you used to be so skinny.”

  “You used to be flat-chested.” She chuckled when he reached down to cup her breasts. “Things do change.”

  Scooting up, she straddled him. “And you used to pull my hair.”

  “You used to bite me. I’ve still got your teeth marks back of my left shoulder.”

  Laughing, she shook her hair back. It was going to be painful to brush the tangles out, but she had to admit, it had been well worth it. “You do not.”

  “Hell I don’t. Mama calls it my Hathaway brand.”

  “Let’s just see.” She tugged at him until he rolled toward his side. She peered down, squinted, though she could see the faint white scar clearly enough. Her brand. It gave her an odd little thrill to know he carried it. “Where? I don’t see anything.” She shifted closer. “Oh, you mean that little thing? Why, that’s nothing. I can do much better now.”

  Before he could defend himself, she clamped her teeth on his shoulder. He yelped, flipped her over, and rolled until they were tangled in the blanket. His hands managed to reach here, reach there so that she was as breathless with freshening desire as with laughter.

  “I’d say it’s time I put my mark on you.”

  “Don’t you dare bite me, Giff.” She giggled, struggled, rolled. “Ouch! Damn it.”

  “I didn’t bite you yet.”

  “Well, something did.”

  He moved fast, visions of snakes slicing into his brain. He rolled her, gained his feet, and scooped her into his arms in one lightning move. Her jaw dropped open as she watched his eyes, suddenly hard and cold, scan the ground.

  “Golly,” was all she could manage, as her romantic’s heart flopped in her chest.

  Nothing slithered or crept or crawled. But he saw a glint of silver. He set Lexy on her feet, turned her around. A faint red scrape marred her delicate shoulder blade. “You just rolled over something, that’s all.” He kissed the scrape lightly, then bent to pick up the dangle of silver. “Somebody’s earring.”

  Bright-eyed, Lexy reached back to rub absently at the little pain. Why, he’d picked her up as if she weighed nothing at all, she thought dreamily. And he’d stood there, holding her, as if he would have defended her against a fire-breathing dragon.

  Images of Lancelot and Guinevere, of misty castles, floated into her head before she managed to focus on the earring Giff was holding. It was a bright trail of small silver stars.

  “That’s Ginny’s.” With a slight frown, she reached out and took it from him. “It’s from her favorite pair. Wonder how it got here.”

  Giff lifted his brows, wiggled them. “I guess we’re not the first people to use the forest for something other than a nature walk.”

  With a laugh, Lexy sat on the blanket again, setting the earring carefully beside her before she reached for her bra. “I guess you’d be right. Long detour from the campground and her cottage, though. Was she wearing them last night?”

  “I don’t pay much mind to my cousin’s earbobs,” Giff said dryly.

  “I’m almost sure ...”

  She trailed off, trying to bring back the picture. Ginny’d been wearing a bright-red shirt with silver studs, tight white jeans cinched with a concho belt. And yes, Lexy thought, almost certainly her favorite silver star dangles. Ginny liked the way they swung and caught the light.

  “Well, doesn’t matter. I’ll get it back to her. If I can find her.”

  He sat down to pull on his Jockeys. “What do you mean?”

  “She must have found herself a hot date at the bonfire last night. She didn’t show up for work this morning.”

  “What do you mean she didn’t show up? Ginny always shows up.”

  “Well, she didn’t this morning. I heard the hubbub over it when I came down for the breakfast shift.” Lexy dug in her tote for a hair pick and began the arduous process of dragging out the tangles. “Ouch, damn it. We had a bunch of check-ins and -outs over at the campground, and no Ginny. Kate sent Daddy and Jo over to handle it.”

  Giff pulled on his jeans, rising to snap them. “They checked her cabin?”

  “I finished up before they got back, but I’d expect so. I can tell you, Kate was in a tizzy.”

  “That’s not like Ginny. She’s wild, but she’d never leave Kate in the lurch that way.”

  “Maybe she’s sick.” Lexy rubbed the earring between her fingers before tucking it into the little pocket of the tiny shorts she’d put on to drive Giff crazy. “She was knocking back the tequila pretty steady.”

  He nodded in agreement, but he knew that even hung over, she’d have done her job or seen to her own replacement. He remembered the way she’d looked, staggering over the beach in the dark, waving at him and Lexy, blowing them kisses. “I’ll go check on her.”

  “You do that.” Lexy rose, enjoying the way he watched her legs unfold. “And maybe later . . .” She slid her arms around him, up his back. “You’ll come check on me.”

  “I was giving that some thought. I was figuring I’d come by, have dinner at the inn. Let you ... serve me.”

  “Oh.” Her lips took on a feline curve as she stepped back, slowly pulling the pick through her long corkscrew curls. “Were you figuring that?”

  “Yeah. Then I was figuring ho
w about if I just wandered on upstairs afterward, maybe wandered right on into your room. We could try this in a bed for a change.”

  “Well.” She ran her tongue over her top lip. “I might just be available tonight—depending on what kind of tipper you are.”

  He grinned and captured her just-moistened lips with his in a kiss that rocked her straight back on her heels.

  When she could breathe again, she exhaled slowly. “That’s a real good start.” She bent down to gather the blanket, deliberately turning to tease him with tight buns in tight shorts, then turned her head. “I’m going to give you . . . excellent service.”

  BY the time Giff was back in his truck and on the road to the campground, his heart rate was nearly back to normal. The woman was potent, he thought, and life with her was going to be a continual adventure. He didn’t think she was quite ready to have her notions adjusted to a lifetime with him, but he was going to work on that too.

  He smiled to himself, flipped the radio up so Clint Black wailed through the speakers. He had it all planned, Giff mused. The courtship—which was progressing just fine in his opinion. The proposal, the marriage, the life.

  As soon as he convinced her that he was exactly what she needed, that would be that. Meanwhile, they would give each other a hell of a ride.

  He turned into the campground, frowning a little as he saw the teenager inside the booth instead of Ginny. “Hey, Colin.” Giff braked, leaned out his window. “Got you manning the post today?”

  “Looks like.”

  “Seen Ginny?”

  “Not hide nor hair.” The boy tried out a lascivious wink. “She musta caught a live one.”

  “Yeah.” But there was an uncomfortable shift in Giff’s gut. “I’m going to look in at her cabin. See what’s up.”

  “Help yourself.”

  Giff drove slowly, mindful of the possibility that a child might dart out in front of him. With summer just around the corner, he knew more would be coming, stacking up in the campground, the cottages, spreading towels on the beach. Those in the cottages would fry themselves in the sun half the day, then come back and run their ACs to the max. Which usually meant he’d be kept busy replacing coils.