He came back a few minutes later, smoking a cigarette and looking totally uninvolved.
"Want some more coffee?" she asked gently.
"Please."
She poured it while he watched her, averting his eyes when she noticed. They drank coffee in tense silence.
"I'll get used to having you here," he said after a minute, "and we'll manage. I can't let you go home until the dealers are caught and the court decides how to dispose of them."
"I know. I'll try not to be too much trouble," she added with a smile. She got up and brought out a pudding she'd made for dessert, serving it with no conversation at all. When he touched her, he was vulnerable. But the minute he moved away, the wall came back, reinforced. Except that now she knew why he kept building it, and she wasn't hurt by it anymore.
Dane was fighting his feelings tooth and nail. He could go crazy for her if he let himself. That couldn't be. Tess was an old-fashioned girl, with old-fashioned ideas about life and men, courtesy of her grandmother, who'd been responsible for most of her upbringing. He couldn't take her to bed and forget about her. So he had to forget about her physically. In order to accomplish that, as much as he hated to, he was going to have to push her away and keep her there.
He studied her downcast face with eyes that wanted her, but he averted his gaze the minute she looked up. Boss and employee, he told himself. Surely he could manage that.
Chapter Five
Tess enjoyed living with Dane. She hadn't expected it to be so sweet, even just being with him while they watched television at night. He liked to sit around in his white T-shirts and jeans, in his sock feet, and sprawl over his armchair while he drank beer and watched old movies. Tess found herself relaxing with him, now that she had a good idea how he felt about her. The way he watched her was exciting, like the evasive tenderness in his eyes when she smiled at him.
He was a loner by nature, a very private man with any number of hang-ups that she discovered quite by accident. It embarrassed him to discuss his feelings, so he never let conversation between them get personal. They talked about the job, about everything except themselves.
A few days after she'd moved in, she was watching a program about birth. He came into the room during it, having been working in his study.
As if it disturbed him to see the embryo being shown at that moment on the screen, he turned to leave.
"I can change the channel if you don't want to watch this," she offered.
He hesitated, his eyes going reluctantly back to the screen. They were showing a delivery room now, a very explicit delivery.
"Sorry." She pushed the Off button on the remote control and laid it down. "I was curious," she confessed. "I never learned much about sex and reproduction at home, and school courses are very brief. I wanted to know how babies...how they grew."
"How they got made, you mean," he corrected, watching her face color. "But they didn't show that, did they?"
She cleared her throat. "Not really."
"I've got a book," he said slowly. "You wouldn't want to read it with me here, I know, but you might find it interesting. It shows how people make love without being graphic or offensive."
Her eyes searched his averted face. "I didn't think men were curious about things like that. I mean, you know it all already, don't you?"
He lit a cigarette, pausing in the doorway. “I know how to have sex with a woman," he corrected. "I...wanted to know how to make love."
The words made her warm inside. He looked frankly embarrassed. She watched him quietly. "Because I ran from you?"
His eyes glowered at her. "Don't get personal."
She smiled. "That was why, though, wasn't it?"
He drew in an irritated breath and took another draw from the cigarette. "Maybe it was. So what?" he asked belligerently. "It isn't as if I'll ever need to know for your sake. I'm not going to make love to you."
Her eyes fell to the irregular rise and fall of his broad chest. "I wouldn't be afraid of it now," she said softly. "You're very sexy. I didn't want you to stop that time in the kitchen."
His heart shuddered in his chest. "Talking like this is dangerous," he whispered. "You don't know how dangerous."
She looked up at him, her eyes adoring his lean, hard face. "Dane, have you ever thought about having a child?" she asked huskily.
His face exploded with color. He moved jerkily and turned away from her to pull nervously at his cigarette. "No," he said curtly.
"You don't want children?" she persisted.
He fingered the cigarette, staring at its glowing orange tip with eyes that barely saw it. "It wouldn't have made any difference, Tess," he said after a minute. He looked down at her, his expression reluctant. "I can't father a child."
Her mind wouldn't absorb it. She heard the words without comprehending them.
He turned, his eyes dark and quiet as they searched hers. "Jane wanted to get pregnant," he said slowly. "She was obsessed with it. Maybe that's why I couldn't be gentle with her. She demanded, raged at me when she didn't conceive. I felt like some gelded bull by the time she gave up and stopped offering herself to me." He sighed wearily. "I couldn't make her pregnant. Eventually, I couldn't even make love properly." He bent over to put out the cigarette, only half-smoked. "You think you've got scars because of what I did to you. I wish you could see mine."
He turned and started to leave.
She got up, too, and went to him, her eyes big and soft. "There are a lot of reasons why women don't conceive."
"She had a child by her new husband barely ten months after they married," he said curtly.
"That wasn't what I meant. You like jeans, but they create a climate that sometimes prevents men from being fertile...." She flushed as she realized what she was saying.
He lifted an eyebrow. "You're a virgin, I believe?"
"That program I was watching mentioned it," she hedged.
"I don't wear jeans all the time," he reminded her.
"Well..."
His gaze went slowly down her body and back up. She was wearing jeans herself, with a floppy, button-up green shirt. Her hair was up in a disheveled knot on top of her head. She looked young and pretty and very sexy.
"Go away," he said softly. "If I touch you, I won't stop. I can't stop. I'll go every inch of the way."
She searched his eyes and the flush got worse. It was as intimate as a kiss, the way she looked at him. "I know, Dane," she breathed.
His jaw tautened. His breathing changed suddenly, sharply.
She looked down, and her eyes triggered a reaction he'd been trying desperately to avoid. She didn't look away, even then. She found him fascinating. Her expression told him so.
"You're afraid of me," he reminded her with choked passion in his voice. "Hold that thought."
"If you were gentle, I wouldn't be afraid," she said. She lifted her eyes to his and searched them, her body tingling with new sensations, new needs. He loved her. She knew it all the way to her bones, and if she could let him see how it would be with someone who cared, really cared about him, he might change his mind about commitment.
He was sure he was going to die from what he was feeling. He felt near to bursting with it.
Tess felt his tension, sensed how limited his control was. It wouldn't she thought, recklessly, take very much to break through his restraint.
In fact, it didn't. She took one step toward him, and his will collapsed.
He bent and picked her up, managing her slight weight easily, even with his bad back. He didn't look at her as he carried her into his bedroom and kicked the door shut.
He placed her in the center of his bed and stood over her, looking down at the soft contours of her body, his face like rock.
Her hands were beside her head on the beige coverlet, her lips parted, her eyes yielding and submissive, like her body.
"It will hurt," he said tersely.
"I know," she whispered.
His hands trembled as he took off his T-shirt
and dropped it onto the floor. He stood, fighting for control. "If you change your mind after I've touched you, I won't be able to stop," he said hoarsely. "Don't you understand?"
"I love you, Richard," she whispered, using the name he never let anyone use, the name she'd always wanted to call him because nobody else did. "I love you with all my heart. I never stopped, even when I was scared to death of you."
He winced. "Tess...!"
"Teach me. Love me," she said gently.
His eyes closed. His fists clenched at his sides and he shuddered visibly. "I don't want this to happen," he ground out. "God in heaven, you're a virgin...!"
"I love you," she whispered again.
He looked at her, his face quietly resigned as he registered the enormity of the gift she was offering him. "I'll try to give you tenderness," he said slowly. "If not at first, afterwards. I won't... hurt you deliberately, you understand?"
"Yes."
He sat down and leaned over her, his eyes moving possessively down her relaxed body. He touched her lips with a tentative brush of his fingers, an action that made her ripple with pleasure.
"There is no more precious gift than what you're offering me," he said huskily. "You can only give your chastity once."
"Shouldn't it belong to someone I love more than my own life?" she asked gently.
He framed her face with unsteady hands. "I...can't love you," he said bitterly. "Tess..."
Her fingers touched his mouth. She knew that he was denying how he felt out of fear. The very hesitancy in his actions told her more than words could how much he cared for her.
"I won't ask you for anything," she promised. "Not even for you to love me. I want to belong to you completely, just this once. I want to know how it feels with someone I love."
He bent to her lips, stumped for words. His mouth trembled as it settled on hers. He opened it, gently, and his hands slid under her nape, to lift her face, tilt it to the gentle assault of his mouth and then his tongue.
Tess smiled under the slow loving as his lips whispered over her face, learning its contours, so tender that they made her warm all over.
His hands slid down, under her back, and he lay down beside her, lazily bringing her body to his as he slid one long leg between both of hers and began to kiss her with slow hunger.
She tangled her hands in his thick, cool hair and drifted while his hands found their way under her blouse, against the soft skin of her back. He kissed her until her mouth was gently swollen, then carefully unfastened the bra so that he could caress her breasts. Their hard tips dragged abrasively against his palms and she began to breathe raggedly as his expert touch kindled fires within her.
"I've never looked at you, even if I have touched you like this before," he whispered, his hands coming back to the buttons that secured the shirt. "Now I'm going to."
She sat up while he divested her of everything she wore above the waist. But when she started to lie back down, his hands prevented her.
He held her there, his lips teasing hers while his knuckles played with exquisite tenderness against her taut nipples. She shivered, and he lifted his head to look at her eyes.
"This is exciting," he said unsteadily. "I've never done this."
"Neither have I," she confessed.
"I want you... in my mouth, Tess," he whispered jerkily, bending his head.
She arched back over his arms as he opened his mouth on her breast and began a warm, moist suction against the nipple. It was like flying, she thought shakily. She felt a burst of heat in her lower body, a surge of ecstasy that startled a cry from her lips.
"Yes," he said, nuzzling the softness his mouth was exploring. "Yes, little one."
She went from plateau to plateau in the minutes that followed, so dazed and helpless from pleasure that she lay almost lifeless while he removed her clothes. Then she watched him take off his own, afterwards noticing the way he hesitated with his back to her.
"It won't...matter," she said, her voice thick and unsteady as she realized why he was hesitating. She could see the deep scar the bullets had left near his spine. She knew there were worse ones on his chest. "I love you!"
He turned. Her eyes went to the core of his masculinity with awe and wonder before they reluctantly moved to his scarred chest and shoulder and leg. There were white streaks and an area that was graphic evidence of a shooting, but to Tess, who loved him, they were only faint imperfections in a body that nature couldn't have improved on.
She shifted on the coverlet, a tiny movement of her hips, her long tegs, as she looked up into his eyes and shivered. Woman at the mercy of man and her own aching need of him.
"You are the most beautiful human being I've ever seen," he said hoarsely, his eyes on her body.
"So are you," she whispered.
He eased down beside her, trembling from his years of abstinence and his raging hunger for this one woman. "I want you, baby," he whispered against her warm belly, feeling her jerk under its intimate touch. "Feel how much."
He slid over her, against her, while his lips touched hers in tender teasing, his powerful, hair-roughened body hard and sensually abrasive against hers as he drew it over her trembling warmth. The evidence of his need was blatant and awesome.
"Let me fill you," he whispered at her open mouth. He positioned her carefully as his tongue teased around her lips and slowly, slowly, past her teeth into the soft, sweet darkness of her mouth. "Open your mouth...for me."
Incredible, she thought in the flash of blind pain that accompanied the words and his slow movement. Incredible, that he could make her want him so much....
His lean hand was on her thigh, curling around it, pulling her upward. It contracted, but what she felt was his tongue sliding into her mouth, the fullness of it warm and welcome. The pain came again and she shivered.
“I'm sorry that I have to hurt you like this,'' he breathed, nibbling at her mouth. He lifted his head and looked into her eyes. His were dark as night, blazing, glazed. His hand contracted again and pulled. "Let me watch you become a woman," he whispered, his eyes holding hers as he slowly pushed his hips down against hers.
Her nails curled into his shoulders and she gasped, shuddering.
"Tell me," he whispered huskily as he moved. "Share it with me."
"It...burns," she choked. "Like...fire!"
His breath was hot in her mouth as he looked at her and moved again. "Don't cry, little one," he said huskily. "Only a few more seconds..."
She moaned and shivered. His remorseful eyes held hers and he took a long, shaky breath. His hand contracted. "You're going to fight me now, because it's going to hurt like hell. But I have to finish it," he whispered, and the muscles in his hips bunched. His eyes dilated as he felt the barrier give. His face flushed with the knowledge, even as he heard her cry out and saw her eyes dilate with pain.
He didn't stop. She pushed at him frantically, but he didn't stop. Her head went back and she sobbed. Then, when she thought she couldn't bear it, the pain all at once eased.
He let out the breath he'd been holding. He didn't move, his body poised against her, his eyes holding hers. He smiled.
Her eyes were bright with tears. He bent and kissed them, sipping the wetness away, his cheek sliding against hers as his lips pressed with aching tenderness all over her face and he whispered husky words of endearment and praise.
Her hands relaxed on his shoulders and her body followed suit. She felt his possession of her increase with the tiny movement and she flushed as she met his eyes.
He smiled tenderly, through his own raging need. "Now I can make love to you, Tess," he said softly. "It won't hurt anymore."
His teeth caught her upper lip and nibbled at it softly as his hips lifted and pushed, lifted and pushed, in a slow, tender rhythm that made her gasp and jerk with sudden, stark pleasure.
He watched her react to it with an excess of male pride. "You were very brave," he whispered as he increased the pressure and rhythm, feeling her body b
egin to echo his slow movements. "Very, very brave. You didn't even cry out."
"Dane?" she cried, frightened.
"Let me pleasure you," he whispered, bending to her mouth as the silver ripples worked up his spine. "I'll teach you now. I'll teach you, baby."
Instinctively she knew he'd never done this before, never loved anyone the way he was loving her. It was as if he, too, were a virgin all over again. She clung to him, sobbing as he'd promised she would, begging for fulfillment at the last. He gave it to her unexpectedly, completely, lifted his head and watched her convulse, and smiled through his own fierce excitement before it caught him up in its vortex and made him cry out harshly with the sheer joy of ecstasy.
He held her for a long time afterward, drying her tears, kissing her undemandingly, soothing her torn, exhausted body. He got up and got a cold beer from the refrigerator, sharing it with her while he had a cigarette. He wasn't thinking about tomorrow. There was only tonight, only the joy of loving, the beauty of her whispered love for him, the sweet anguish of fulfillment.
He put the half-finished beer on the bedside table, and crushed out his cigarette. Then he eased her over onto her back and slid up beside her.
"I'm going to take you again, now," he whispered as he moved between her long, trembling legs. "This time, it will be very slow, very gentle. This time, you'll feel it so intensely that you'll cry out, as I did earlier."
"I...love you," she whispered frantically, her body so perfectly attuned to his that the first hard thrust of it brought a cry of ecstasy from her parched lips.
"Already?" he asked huskily, moving fiercely against her.
"Now," she groaned. "Now, now, now...!"
He thought that never in his life had he felt such sensations. He convulsed almost immediately, feeling her body surge under him, hearing her hoarse cries as he fulfilled her once, twice, three times. He shouldn't have been capable of this, of endless potency, of tireless arousal. But he was. Perhaps the abstinence, or what he felt for her, or even her unexpectedly sweet sensuality triggered it. Whatever the reason, by the time he finally rolled away from her, too exhausted to even kiss her swollen mouth one last time, he was asleep before his head even reached the pillow.
Books By Diana Palmer Page 102
