Books By Diana Palmer

by Palmer, Diana

  The feel of his mouth on hers was electrifying, and she had to fight not to return the tender caress. "Are we there?" she whispered.

  He smiled. "Look out the window, honey."

  She opened the shade. She knew that, for the rest of her life, she would remember that first incredible glimpse of the Japan­ese coast. All the reading and travelogues on television hadn't prepared her for the impact of such glorious beauty. There were green mountains going up into the clouds. The coastline had sharp rocks standing right up out of the ocean. It was like look­ing at something out of a paradise fantasy. The joy of the unex­pected sight hit her right in the heart.

  "Oh!" she whispered, wordless.

  "That was how I felt, the first time I saw it," Judd told her qui­etly. He'd gone to Japan on a case, years before, when the Texas Rangers were working with Interpol. "I could never manage to describe it. You have to see it."

  "Yes." She sighed with pleasure. "It's so beautiful."

  He was looking at her profile, drinking in the sight of her. "So beautiful," he whispered, thinking painfully that she could be dead now, so easily.

  "They're going to meet us at the airport, right?" she added, worried. "I wish one of us spoke Japanese, like Cash."

  He froze over. Just once, he thought, just one day he'd like to get through the whole without having her refer to the damned man.

  She knew what she'd said, and she grimaced. If only he'd get over his resentment of Cash! After all, he had Tippy, a beauti­ful and famous woman that any man would be proud to call his own. When he came to his senses, he'd realize that Christabel was no longer part of his life. Surely he would.

  The Kansai Airport was huge, a symphony in metal and glass, but difficult to make their way around. Christabel was uneasy as they went through passport control. Everything was so dif­ferent.

  But her worries came to nothing. They were met at customs by Mr. Kosugi himself and his business partner, Mr. Nasagi, and several colleagues.

  "I trust you had a pleasant flight?" Mr. Kosugi asked, all smiles, nodding to an associate to get their bags as he joined them.

  "It was wonderful. But my first sight of your beautiful coun­try will last me all my life," Christabel said huskily, returning the smile.

  "Your wife is a diplomat, Mr. Dunn," the other man laughed.

  Judd slid an arm around her and tugged her close. "My right arm," he murmured, and smiled back.

  The manager of the hotel and the assistant manager came out to meet the Dunns and escort them, along with Mr. Kosugi and his staff, up to their room. It was such flattering treatment that Christabel didn't know how to react.

  "You make us feel so special," she told the businessman.

  "As you are. It is our pleasure to welcome you to our coun­try. We hope your room will be adequate," the hotel manager added, opening the curtains to reveal the river and bridge just below, and the city of Osaka spread out beyond it.

  "How incredibly beautiful," Christabel said, aghast.

  Mr. Kosugi chuckled. "We will come by for you about 6:00 p.m., if that is acceptable and you will eat at our main restaurant here in Osaka." He hesitated. "Of course, if you would prefer Amer­ican cuisine..."

  "But I want sushi," Christabel said at once. "And I read about freshwater eel, and I've had miso soup and I love it...!"

  "Same here," Judd said with a grin. "You'll find that Japan­ese cuisine suits us very well!"

  The surprised, and pleased, looks of their hosts said every­thing.

  They smiled tolerantly at Christabel's struggle with the chop­sticks. She didn't want them to know that Cash had tried to tutor her, but she'd failed miserably. Judd used them like a native, and took the opportunity to show Christabel how to hold them prop­erly and get them to work.

  "See?" he chided gently. "It isn't hard at all."

  "Thanks."

  His eyes lingered on her face while she picked up a piece of grilled eel and took it into her mouth. She was wearing a new silver dress with spaghetti straps that Judd had insisted on buy­ing for her before they left Jacobsville. Her blond hair was down around her shoulders and she was wearing tiny white high heels with an ankle strap. She looked beautiful to Judd, who could hardly bear to take his eyes off her.

  "Tomorrow we will take you to one of our branch restaurants in Kyoto," Mr. Kosugi said, "and to the farm where we raise our beef, so that you can inspect the premises. While we are there," he added, "would you like to see a castle, perhaps?"

  She laid down her chopsticks. "A real samurai fort?" she ex­claimed. "With 'nightingale' floors?"

  It was Mr. Kosugi's turn to be surprised. "You know about 'nightingale' floors, Mrs. Judd?" he asked.

  It thrilled her to be called by her married name. She grinned. "I love foreign films. I guess I've seen every samurai movie there is! I'd love to see the fort!"

  He was impressed. "Then we shall go and see Nijo Castle, which dates from 1603. I will come for you after breakfast to­morrow. Shall we say 9:00 a.m.?"

  "That would be perfect," she said on a sigh, and Judd nod­ded, smiling at her enthusiasm.

  She and Judd shared the same hotel room, with its double beds, but she hardly thought about the intimacy of it. She was so tired that she barely got into her cotton gown before she was sound asleep. The next morning, Judd, already dressed, woke her and waited for her to get her casual clothes on so that they could go downstairs for breakfast.

  Mr. Kosugi and his party arrived right on time to pick them up. Christabel was surprised at how much energy she had, de­spite the unseasonable warmth. They were going to ride the fa­mous bullet train to Kyoto, and the station at Osaka where they got on it fascinated her. It had several levels and included the shopping mall where a scene from the Michael Douglas film Black Rain had been shot. She delighted in each new experience, from the warmth of the people and the joyful custom of smil­ing and bowing at each opportunity to the high tech tools the Japanese took so much for granted. Mr. Kosugi's wife showed her a phone which was also a music player, an Internet link, a camera, a television screen and a portable library, with a data­base and even a word processor. Judd was equally fascinated with it.

  Their tickets were obtained by one of the staff. They had to be inserted in a slot in a long metal counter next to the turnstile, and reacquired at the end of it. The train was crowded, but they found seats and enjoyed the speed and the company.

  When they arrived in Kyoto, Christabel watched Judd sur­reptitiously. He looked more relaxed than she'd ever seen him in her life. He strolled along among the fascinated Japanese with long, rangy strides, his boots catching as much attention as his Stetson. One cheeky teenager winked at him and said, "Howdy, partner!"

  Their party walked out of the station and were picked up in a neat van which took them to the Kosugi farm, where they toured the facility and became acquainted with the very high-tech meth­ods of beef production. Christabel and Judd liked what they saw, and said so. When they returned to the van, they were given wet white cloths rolled up in plastic to remove the sweat. They were overdressed for the unusual heat. The van driver took them to Nijo Castle, seat of the Tokugawa shogunate, and they walked around the graveled courtyard where sculptured gardens led to the castle itself, a one-level collection of rooms within sliding doors around which a long wooden walkway passed. The walk­way made a sound like a bird singing when walked upon. They were shown the underside of it, where strategically placed nails and metal made contact to produce the sound. The nightingale floor as it was called, was a melodic way to ensure that enemy soldiers or ninja could never sneak up on the samurai! Christa­bel had a camera with her, and Mrs. Kosugi took picture after picture of Christabel and Judd together. Christabel was happy to have the shots—it might be the last she'd see of Judd after he divorced her.

  There was a gift shop at the samurai fort where they could purchase soft drinks and souvenirs. Judd bought Christabel a beautiful red and black fan and postcards of the fort to carry home. Then it was back
into the van, which featured white lace trim and the most courteous of drivers, and on to Mr. Kosugi's restaurant for a late lunch. The food was delightful in Mr. Ko-sugi's restaurant, especially his beef, which rivaled the famed Kobe beef that Japan was famous for. He used many of the same techniques which produced it, including massaging the cattle. The Dunn imported cattle would be similarly raised. They had a beef dish with noodles that was absolutely delicious.

  Christabel was becoming more expert with chopsticks since Judd had tutored her. She hadn't been able to get the hang of it when Cash had shown her how. She made the mistake of men­tioning it while she dipped noodles expertly from a bowl into her mouth.

  Judd had been exuberant and smiling all day. But at the men­tion of Cash's name, he went cold. Even his appetite seemed to suffer. He made every effort to be polite to their hosts. They toured a temple and spoke to the Buddhist monk, who even au­tographed the little book Christabel bought as a souvenir of the fascinating temple, with its sprawling Zen gardens of sand, and beautiful koi in a pond near the temple. But later, after another train ride back to Osaka, and then a ferry ride down the river to their hotel, Judd's pleasant manner went into eclipse. By the time he and Christabel were alone in their hotel room, it was a dif­ferent story.

  "Maybe I should have stayed home and let Cash come with you," he said with barely contained fury. "He can even speak the language, can't he?"

  She stiffened. "Yes, he can, quite fluently," she retorted, brown eyes flashing. She pushed back her long blond hair, disheveled from the wind. In beige slacks and a floral blouse, she looked slender and neat and very pretty.

  Judd turned, moving toward her with a suddenness that left her heart hanging in space. He was still wearing navy blue slacks, but he'd shed his jacket and tie and hat, and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt. The thick dark hair that covered his muscular chest was revealed blatantly, and she was remember­ing how it felt to be held against it in the darkness.

  "But he hasn't had you," he said abruptly, towering over her. "And he won't!"

  Her breath rushed out and she stared up at him with wide, per­plexed eyes. "You don't want me..." she began.

  His lean hands shot out and drew her to him gently, wrapping her up against the muscular length of him. "Blind, deaf, dumb and numb from the neck down, are we?" he asked with black humor as he pressed her hips into his.

  She felt the irony of the statement keenly. He was completely aroused, and he'd barely touched her. She swallowed hard. De­licious little skirls of pleasure were dancing in the back of her mind. She remembered pleasure so deep it was almost pain, and sounds coming out of her throat that barely sounded human.

  Her hands pushed softly at his shirt. "Don't, Judd," she said huskily. "You're just upset over all that's happened. It will wear off."

  "I've been noble since they took you to the hospital," he said through his teeth. "I'm tired of it. I don't eat, I don't sleep, I can't even work. I remember your voice moaning in my ear like the cry of the damned while I was having you," he bit off, bending to her mouth. "You couldn't get enough of me. You couldn't get close enough to me. Your face when I fulfilled you...I ache every time I think about it. And you think it will wear off?"

  She was losing ground. Her body was reacting predictably to having him this close, and not in any way that was going to con­vince him. Already her breasts were flattening against his di­aphragm, her legs were carrying her closer to that magnificent arousal. She felt him all around her and she wanted him insanely.

  She watched her own hands sliding inside his shirt with a feel­ing of horror, but she had no power to stop them. She lifted her face to his and saw the same helpless, hopeless desire reflected in his glittery black eyes.

  "This time, I'm not putting out the light, Christabel," he said as he bent, lifting her clear of the floor. "And you're going to love what I do to you."

  His mouth opened on her parted lips. It was like an explosion of joy inside her. To her shame, she did nothing that looked like a protest. She clung to him, answering the fierce hunger of his mouth with an insane passion, rubbing her body against his and moaning piteously.

  By the time they ended up sprawled on the bed together, she was beyond words at all. Her hands were as impatient of obstacles as his, her breath jerky and quick in the utter silence of the room.

  "We're having dinner...with the Kosugis," she choked as he skinned off her slacks and dragged her blouse over her head.

  "In two hours," he whispered roughly, his hands going to her underwear with deadly efficiency. "With a little luck, you'll still be able to walk by then...!"

  She moaned against the harsh pressure of his mouth. He found his way down her body, removing obstacles with little finesse and much urgency until they were riveted together in a nude tan­gle on the sheets.

  "Slow down," he whispered huskily as she writhed under the brush of his lips on her breasts. "Slow down, baby. Don't hurry. There's no need. No need at all."

  She sobbed, her voice loud in the stillness that was unbroken except by the soft hum of the air-conditioning. "The maids," she gasped.

  "I closed the door."

  She was going to mention that they had a passkey, but his lips were on the inside of her long legs and she was going crazy with pleasure. She'd never dreamed that her own desire would peak like this, explode like this, the minute he touched her.

  "Maybe...I'm not normal," she choked out, clinging to him.

  "Why?"

  "I'm on fire," she laughed jerkily. "I'm dying for you. I'd do anything, anything...!"

  "So would I. Anything to please you." He slid alongside her and cradled her head in his hands, tenderly assaulting her face. "It's been so long, honey. So long!"

  His voice ended in a harsh groan as she ran her hands through the thick hair that covered him. She wondered if men felt the same as women did about intimate caresses. Driven to find out, she bent to his chest and explored him with her mouth, linger­ing on the flat male nipples that were the counterpoint of her own.

  He arched, shuddering.

  "Do you like that?" she whispered at his collarbone.

  "I love it," he ground out. "Do it again."

  She did, following his lead. But when her mouth reached just below his navel, he shook all over and suddenly dragged her body under his, tangling their legs together while he searched for her mouth.

  His hands were in between them now, working magic on her taut body, making her writhe and moan with delicious sensa­tions. She opened her legs to let him touch her even more inti­mately.

  He lifted his head and looked into her eyes while his hands learned her all over again with slow, tender explorations that sent her mindless with pleasure.

  "I've never wanted anyone this badly," he said in a rough tone. One long, hair-roughened leg slid in between both of hers and he moved, very gently, into complete intimacy with her. "No, don't lift your leg," he whispered. "Move this one...here, like this." He shivered. His eyes searched hers. "Now come closer. Feel me going into you. Slow and easy, honey. Slow and easy. It's good, isn't it?"

  "Yes," she breathed. Her hands bit into his shoulders as she looked up at him, feeling his body slowly merge with her own. She'd expected discomfort, if not pain. But there was no barrier now, no impediment. Her eyes reflected her surprise and plea­sure at the ease of his passage.

  "You excite me," he bit off, watching her as he moved. "Every­thing about you excites me. I hated having the lights out the first time. I wanted to see your face, your eyes, while I loved you."

  It was an unexpected expression. Her breath stopped in her throat and then rasped as he shifted over her, gathering her legs in between both of his.

  "Remember how it felt before, when I did this?" he asked, his voice deep and sensual as he shifted again.

  "Yes," she replied. Her hands went up to touch his face, to trace his straight nose, his wide, sexy mouth, his jutting chin. She gasped as pleasure lifted her up into his body.

  "
There?" he whispered, and moved again, with more confi­dence when he saw her expression. "Yes, you like that, don't you?" His hips lifted and fell, and with each slow movement, she gasped and stiffened.

  Her nails bit into his upper arms as she hung there, suddenly in a vise of building ecstasy that was as sharp as it was joyful. "Judd!" Her voice exploded with the tension and her body sud­denly went rigid. She looked into his eyes with near panic. "Please...don't stop," she pleaded, her voice splintering.

  "Right there?" he asked urgently, and pressed deeper, harder. His teeth clenched. His eyes closed. "Yes. Yes! Right...there!"

  She was moving with him now, as if bound to him by invisi­ble strings. She forgot the past, the future, the pain, the uncer­tainty. She knew only one thing, now, the desperate search for pleasure that was just barely out of her reach. She focused on it with every ounce of strength she possessed. Her breath rasped, like his. Her body trembled with each deep movement of his hips. Her eyes were blind looking straight into his as her body became demanding in its mad search for completion.

  "It was never like this for me," he whispered hoarsely as his own body began to roughen on hers. He groaned and his big hands clenched the sheet on either side of her head. "I'm going to lose it...!"

  "It's all right," she whispered, her voice high-pitched, urgent. "Oh, Judd.. Judd...!"

  His mouth bit into hers as the rhythm became chaotic and rough. "Come for me, baby," he whispered into her open mouth. "Come for me...!"

  The suddenness of fulfillment caught her unawares. One instant she was reaching for some impossible height. The next, she was sobbing like a child, clinging to him, feeling her body explode with joy as it buckled and convulsed over and over and over again.

  She could hardly see him in the madness that followed. Her eyes were wide-open, like her mouth, as she convulsed in one final agony of delight that seemed to throb endlessly through her body in a wave of lava-hot savagery.

  His hips thrust down violently into hers and he stilled, stiff­ened, and cried out in the endless heat of exploding passion.