by Nora Roberts
He tensed, straightened, and the wine that lingered on his tongue went sour. “Is this because of your mother?”
“I don’t know. Part of it must be. The shrinks certainly thought so. She was about my age when she left us. The doctors found that very interesting. She abandoned me. Was I repeating the cycle by abandoning myself?”
She shook her head and turned back to him. “But it wasn’t just that. I’ve lived with that most of my life. I coped, damn it. I made my choices and I went for it, straight line, no detours. I liked what I was doing, where I was going. It satisfied me.”
Knowing his hand wouldn’t be steady, Nathan set the glass aside. “Jo Ellen, what happened before, what other people did, no matter who they were to us, can’t destroy what we are. What we have. We can’t let that happen.”
She closed her eyes, relieved and soothed by his words. “That’s what I’m telling myself. Every day. I started having dreams. I’ve always had very vivid dreams, but these unnerved me. I wasn’t sleeping well, or eating well. I can’t even remember if that started before or after the first pictures came.”
“What pictures?”
“Someone started sending me photographs, of me. Just my eyes at first. Just my eyes.” She rubbed a hand over her arm to chase away the chill. “It was creepy. I tried to ignore it, but it didn’t stop. Then there was a whole package, dozens of photographs of me. At home, on assignment, at the market. Everywhere I went. He’d been there, watching me.” Her hand rubbed slowly, steadily over her speeding heart. “And I thought I saw ... more. I hallucinated, I panicked. And I broke.”
Rage whipped through him, one hard, vicious lash. “Some bastard was dogging you, stalking you, tormenting you, and you’re blaming yourself for crumbling?” His hands were steady now as he reached out for her, pulled her against him.
“I didn’t face it.”
“Stop it. How much is anyone supposed to face? The son of a bitch, putting you through that.” He stared over her shoulder, wishing viciously he had something to fight, something to pummel. “What’s the Charlotte PD doing about it?”
“I didn’t report it in Charlotte.” Her eyes went wide when he jerked her back. Widened still more when she saw the wild fury in his.
“What the hell do you mean, you didn’t report it? You’re just going to let him get away with it? Just do nothing?”
“I had to get away. I just wanted to get away from it. I couldn’t cope. I could barely function.”
When he became aware that his fingers were digging into her shoulders, he let her go. Snatching up his glass, he paced away from her. And he remembered how she’d looked when he first saw her on the island. Pale, exhausted, her eyes bruised and unhappy.
“You needed sanctuary.”
Her breath came out in three jerks. “Yes, I suppose I did. Today I learned I hadn’t found it. He’s been here.” Resolutely she swallowed the fresh panic in her throat. “He mailed photos of me from Savannah. Photos he’d taken here on the island.”
Fresh fury clawed at him with hot-tipped fingers. Drawing on all of his control, Nathan turned slowly. “Then we’ll find him. And we’ll stop him.”
“I don’t even know if he’s still on the island. If he’ll come back, if . . . I don’t know why, and that’s the worst of it. But I’m facing it now, and I’m going to deal with it.”
“You don’t have to deal with it alone. You matter to me, Jo Ellen. I won’t let you deal with it alone. You’re going to have to face that too.”
“Maybe that’s why I came here. Maybe that’s why I had to come here.”
He set his wine down again so he could take her face in both hands. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. Believe that.”
She did, a little too easily, a little too strongly, and tried to backpedal. “It’s good knowing you’re on my side, but I have to be able to handle this.”
“No.” He lowered his mouth gently to hers. “You don’t.”
Her heart began to flutter in a different kind of panic. “The police said—”
“You went to the police?”
“Today. I ...” She lost her train of thought for a moment as his mouth brushed hers again. “They said they’d look into it, but they don’t have a lot to look into. I haven’t been threatened.”
“You feel threatened.” He ran his hands down to her shoulders, over them. “That’s more than enough. We’re going to make that stop.” He skimmed his lips over her cheek, along her temple, into her hair. “I’m going to take care of you,” he murmured.
The words revolved in her spinning mind, refused to settle. “What?”
He doubted either one of them was ready to face what he’d suddenly realized. He needed to take care of her, to soothe away those troubles, to ease her heart. And he needed to be sure that whatever he did wouldn’t snap the thin threads of the relationship they were just beginning to weave.
“Put it aside for a little while. Take an evening to relax.” He ran his fingers up and down her spine once before drawing back to study her. “I’ve never seen anyone more in need of a rare steak and a glass of wine.”
He was giving her time, she realized. That was good. That was best. She managed to smile. “It does sound pretty good. It would be nice not to even think about all of this for an hour.”
“Then I’ll put the steaks on, you can dig out the fries. And I’ll bore you to tears talking about this new project I have in mind.”
“You can try, but I don’t cry easily.” She turned to the freezer, opened it, then closed it again. “I don’t like sex.”
He stopped one step away from the microwave. It was necessary to clear his throat before he could face her again. “Excuse me?”
“Obviously that’s part of the package we’re putting together here.” Jo linked her hands together. It was best to be up-front about it, she thought. Practical. Especially since the words were out and couldn’t be taken back.
He really had to stop putting his wine down, Nathan decided, and picking it up again, he took one long, slow sip. “You don’t like sex.”
“I don’t hate it,” she said, pulling her fingers apart to wave a hand. “Not like coconut.”
“Coconut.”
“I really hate coconut—even the smell puts me off. Sex is more like, I don’t know, flan.”
“Sex is like flan.”
“I’m ambivalent about it.”
“Uh-huh. Meaning, take it or leave it. If it’s there, fine, but why go out of your way?”
Her shoulders relaxed. “That’s about it. I thought I should tell you so you wouldn’t build up any big expectations if we go to bed.”
He ran his tongue over his teeth. “Maybe you haven’t had any really well-prepared flan ... in your experience.”
She laughed. “It’s all pretty much the same.”
“I don’t think so.” He finished off his wine, set the empty glass down. Her eyes went from amused to wary as he walked toward her. “And I’m compelled to debate the subject. Right now.”
“Nathan, that wasn’t a challenge, it was just a ...” The words slid down her throat when he swept her off her feet. “Wait a minute.”
“I was on the debate team in college.” It was a lie, but he thought it too good a line to miss.
“I haven’t said I was going to sleep with you.”
“What do you care?” He started down the short hallway. “You’re ambivalent, remember?” He laid her on the bed, slid his body over hers. “And a little flan never hurt anybody.”
“I don’t want—”
“Yes, you do.” He lowered his mouth, keeping only a breath between them. “So do I, and I have, right along. You’re in an honest mood tonight, aren’t you, Jo? Tell me you don’t wonder, that you don’t want?”
His body was warm and solid, his eyes clear and direct. “I wonder.”
“That’s good enough.” He crushed his mouth to hers.
The taste of it, the sudden, sharp demand of it, pushed the worries out of h
er head. Grateful, knowing he would expect no more than what she had, she lifted her arms to wrap around him.
“Your mouth.” He scraped his teeth over that wonderfully overfull top lip. “Christ, I’ve wanted that mouth. It drives me crazy.”
She would have laughed, nearly did. Then his tongue was tangling hotly with hers, and the unexpected burn streaked down to throb between her thighs. It took only her moan to have him diving deeper.
Staggered, she clenched her fists in his hair. He hadn’t kissed her like this before. She hadn’t known that the pressure of mouth to mouth could cause a thousand wild aches in a thousand places. His hands stayed cupped around her face, as though everything he wanted centered only there.
She moved under him, a tremble, then an arch of hips. He had to tear his mouth from hers and press it to her throat to keep himself from rushing both of them. The scent of her skin, that zing of some early spring fragrance, was another welcome shock to his system. He lingered there, tormenting them both until the pulse under his tongue was racing.
He was undoing her, knot by knot. Moment by moment her body loosened, the shifts and quakes inside her spreading, building. There was excitement in not being quite able to catch her breath, not being quite sure where his mouth would travel next. Enchanted, she ran her hands over his shoulders, down his back, pleased with the bunch and flow of male muscle under her fingers.
When his mouth came greedily back to hers, she met it gratefully, delighting in the edgy jolts that snapped through her system. She arched again, mildly frustrated with the barriers that prevented her from taking him inside her. The need for physical release was greater than she had imagined.
He caught the lobe of her ear between his teeth and bit. “We’re not settling for ambivalent this time.”
He eased back, straddling her. The last rays of the sun streaked through the west window and set the air on fire. Her hair haloed around her face, the deep, smoky red of autumn leaves. Her eyes were high-summer blue, her skin the delicate rose of spring.
He lifted her hand, kissing the fingers one by one.
“What are you doing?”
“Savoring you. Your hand’s trembling, and your eyes are full of nerves. I like that.” He scraped his teeth over her knuckle. “It’s exciting.”
“I’m not afraid.”
“No, you’re confused.” He lowered her hand, unfastened the first button of her blouse. “That’s even better. You don’t know what I’m going to make you feel next.”
When her blouse was undone, he parted it, then slowly let his gaze slip down. Underneath she wore a bra of electric blue, the sheen of satin dipping low over the milk-pale swell of her breasts.
“Well, well.” Though his stomach tightened with the need to devour her, he lifted his gaze back to hers. “Who would have thought it?”
“It’s not mine.” She cursed herself when he smiled. “I mean, I only bought it and wore it out of the store to stop Lexy from hounding me.”
“God bless Lexy.” Gently, watching her face, he skimmed his thumbs just above the edge of the satin. Her lashes fluttered, lowered. “You’re holding back on me.” He skimmed his thumbs a fraction lower. “I won’t let you. I want to hear you sigh, Jo Ellen. I want to hear you moan. Then I want to hear you scream.”
She opened her eyes, but her breath caught when he scraped his thumb over her nipple. “Oh, God.”
“You hide too much, and not just this remarkable body. You hide too much of Jo Ellen. I’m going to see it all, and I’m going to have it all before we’re finished.”
He flicked the front hook of the bra, watched her breasts spill free. Then lowering his head, devoured them.
She did moan, then the sounds she made were quick, wild whimpers. The ache was unbearable, unreasonable. She moved restlessly beneath him to soothe it and only deepened the throb.
She dragged at his shirt, yanking it over his head and tossing it violently aside so she could feel hot flesh. The storm crashed inside her, tossing her closer and closer to that high, sharp peak, then dragging her back, just inches back, before she could ride it.
His mouth, his hands streaked over her now, daring her to keep pace, making it impossible for her to do anything but stumble blindly. She writhed, tried to roll free. Anywhere there was air, was an anchor to hold her.
But he held her trapped, imprisoned in that terrifying pleasure. And gave her no choice but to endure the violent war of sensation battling sensation. He pulled her slacks over her hips, revealing the blue swatch of satin. His mouth was on her belly, riding low, his labored breathing thickening the air with hers.
She didn’t hear herself begging, but he did.
He had only to slide a finger under that satin, had only to touch her to have her explode.
Her body convulsed under his, rocked by wave after molten wave of pleasure. He pressed his face to her belly as it quivered, as his own body shuddered in response.
Thank God, thank God, was all she could think when the tension flooded out of her. Her muscles went lax, and she took one grateful gulp of air. Only to expel it again on a muffled scream as those clever, unmerciful fingers drove her up again.
Did she think that was all? The blood throbbed painfully in his head, his heart, his loins as he tore away the thin barrier. Did she think he would let either of them settle for less than madness now? He yanked her hips high and used his tongue to destroy her.
And she did scream.
Her arms flew back, her fingers bouncing off the glossy painted iron posts of the headboard, then gripping desperately as if to keep her body from being swept away. Behind her closed lids lights pulsed violent red, beneath her skin her blood swam dangerously fast. She shattered again, a thousand pieces of her flying free.
Then his hands gripped hers over the bedposts. He plunged into her, filled her, took her ruthlessly to peak again with long, slow, deliberate strokes. Even as her vision wavered, she could see his eyes, the sharp intensity of them, the pure gray edging toward black.
Helpless, she matched his pace, her breath hitching and tearing when he quickened the tempo. Her hips pumping when he began to thrust inside her, hard and fast.
When his mouth came down on hers, she could do nothing but surrender to it. When her body spun finally and completely out of control, she could do nothing but let herself go.
And he could do nothing but let himself follow.
SHE didn’t know if she’d slept. She almost wondered if she’d simply slid into a coma. But it was full dark when she opened her eyes. That, Jo thought hazily, or she’d been struck blind.
He lay over her, his head resting between her breasts. She could feel the rapid beat of his heart, hear the quiet sigh of the wind fluttering through the window screens.
He felt her shift, just slightly. “I’ll stop crushing you in just a second.”
“It’s all right. I can almost breathe.”
His lips curved as he brushed them over the side of her breast, but he rolled over. Before she could move, he’d wrapped an arm around her and pulled her against him. “Flan, my ass.”
She opened her mouth, certain that some pithy comment would come. But there was only laughter. “Maybe I’ve just been off desserts for a while.”
“Then you’ll just have to have seconds.”
She snuggled up against him without thinking. “If we try for seconds, we’ll kill each other.”
“No, we won’t. We’ll get to those steaks first, and I’ll get you a little drunk. Which was my original plan, by the way. Then we’ll have seconds.”
“You planned to get me drunk?”
“That was one of my ideas. Then there was the one about climbing up the trellis to your balcony. Sort of the swashbuckle scenario.”
“You’d have broken your neck.”
“Nah, Brian and I used to monkey up and down that thing all the time.”
“Sure, when you were ten.” She rose onto her elbow, shook her hair back. “You’re about a hundred pounds hea
vier now, and I doubt you’re as agile.”
“This is no time to call my agility into question.”
She smiled, lowered her brow to his. “You’re absolutely right. Maybe you’ll surprise me one night.”
“Maybe I will. But now ...” He gave her hair a tug before he sat up. “I’m going to cook you dinner.”
“Nathan.” She smoothed a hand over the wrinkled spread while he searched for his jeans. “Why are you going to so much trouble for me?”
He didn’t speak for a moment. He couldn’t be sure of his moves, or his words. After tugging on his jeans he studied her silhouette in the dark. “It only took seeing you again, Jo Ellen. That’s all it took. It knocked the wind out of me, and I still don’t have my breath back.”
“I’m a mess, Nathan.” She swallowed hard and was grateful for the dark so he couldn’t see her face. The longing that had geysered inside of her had to show. “I don’t know what I think or feel about anything. Anyone. You’d be better off shaking loose.”
“I’ve taken the easy way a few times. It usually ends up being dull. So far you’ve been anything but dull.”
“Nathan—”
“You’re really wasting your time arguing with me while you’re sitting naked on my bed.”
She dragged a hand through her hair. “Good point. We’ll argue later.”
“Fine. I’ll just go dump more charcoal on the grill.” And since he planned to have her naked and on his bed again before the evening was over, he didn’t think they’d have much time to argue.
TWENTY-ONE
“STAY.” Nathan wrapped his arms around Jo’s waist, nuzzled the back of her neck. Her hair was still damp from the shower they’d shared. Smelling his soap on her skin aroused him yet again. “I’ll fix you breakfast in the morning.”
She hooked her arm around his neck. It amazed her how easy it was to be this close. “You don’t have anything to fix.”
“Bread. I have bread.” He spun her around so he could feast on that wonderful curve of neck and shoulder. “I’m terrific at toast. I’m famous for my toast.”
