by Cindy Dees
Sudden vibrating tension raced up her arm and down to her core. Without a word and hardly a movement, he’d totally changed the tenor of the moment. It was as if he had flipped on a sex-appeal switch and, all of a sudden, steaming sensuality was rolling off him. Not that she was complaining about it, of course. But as distractions went, it was pretty bloody effective.
An answering surge welled up inside her, rising to meet him halfway.
“God Almighty, woman,” he muttered as he half rolled to face her. “What am I going to do with you?”
He felt it, too, huh? “Do you want me to actually answer that question?” she replied laughingly.
He laughed ruefully. “No, I don’t. I’ve got too many ideas of my own already.”
A chink in the gentleman’s armor, eh? “Really? Like what?”
His free arm went around her and he gathered her close. “Nothing I’m going to act on right now. You’ve had a rough night and I’m not going to pile more emotional baggage on top of everything else.”
Her right hand crept around his waist. This guy didn’t carry an ounce of fat on him. He was solid muscle. “Look. That Slav was a bigger asshole than most of them, but it’s not like stuff like that hasn’t happened to me before. And I’m still okay.”
“Are you?” he whispered. “Are you really?”
The pain in his voice arrested her. He was really upset by the incident.
“Yes, Joe, I really am.” She leaned back and wormed her arms free so she could reach up and put her hands on either side of his face. “I’ve survived worse.”
“Oh, Lord. Don’t tell me that. I’m going to have to go out and kill every bastard who’s ever laid a hand on you.”
“My own knight in shining armor,” she murmured. “You can’t slay all the dragons by yourself, you know.”
“No, but I can kill the biggest, baddest one of the bunch,” he growled. “You just say the word.”
She froze. If she wasn’t mistaken, he’d just offered to kill her father for her. The thought sent a cold chill down her spine. Her father was just doing business, using all available tools at hand to get the job done. It was nothing personal.
“Joe, my father has always used my looks to distract men in meetings. It’s no big deal.”
“Honey, I’m sorry, but I have to disagree. It is a big deal. That guy was all over you. And your father let it happen, even implied it could go further. No parent who loves his child would use her in that way.”
Joe broke off sharply as if his anger was about to get the best of him. He took a couple of long, deep breaths, exhaling hard.
“It’s okay, Joe. Really.”
“No, it’s not okay!” He exploded, sitting up abruptly and yanking his arm out from beneath her.
“Shh,” she cautioned him in alarm, sitting up as well.
“I’m serious,” he continued in a lower voice. “At a minimum, it should infuriate you.”
Should it? She looked inside herself. Was there a kernel of anger inside her somewhere that she’d missed or ignored? Anger wasn’t the word for it. Hurt was a better description. She wanted to please her father, to do what made him happy. She wanted his approval. If letting his business associates paw her a little made her father proud, then she would put up with it. Except, tonight her father had gone further than before. But she was sure he didn’t mean it. And he would have made sure the Slav kept away from her once the meeting was over. Of course, he would have. She frowned. Viewed through Joe’s eyes, it seemed like she was letting her father prostitute her body in a calculated and debasing way. Maybe she should be angry.
“Maybe I’m not strong enough to get mad over it,” she said carefully.
“Bull,” he snorted. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met.” He shoved a hand through his dark hair. “You just don’t know to get mad about it. That bastard has you believing he loves you because you do crap like that for him. And it’s a lie. He’s using you. He’s treating you with no more respect than a cheap hooker. Jeez—” Joe broke off and took a deep breath “—Cari, that’s not love. It’s—”
Anger flared in her. “It’s what, Joe? Go ahead and say it. What does that make me?”
It was his turn to look at the walls in alarm and shush her.
“Don’t go telling me to be quiet. You’re the one who brought this up. You can damn well finish this conversation.”
His eyes closed in acute pain. When he finally opened them, sorrow shone in their dark depths. He spoke gently. “I’m sorry, Cari. I was wrong to open this can of worms. It’s your life and I have no right to intrude. I just hate to see you get hurt.”
And that did it. The dam broke and the tears came. Thank God the room was dark because she had never learned how to cry prettily. Her eyes turned red and swelled and her nose ran, and she snorted ungracefully while ugly sobs racked her. She didn’t even make decent crying noises. She sounded like a bull moose with a cold.
She wanted him to claim the right to intrude! Why did he refuse to see that? Why did he make her face this pain? What purpose did it serve? It all closed in on her—the hurt, the fear and the shame—and she sobbed all the more.
But through it all, Joe held her, offering her tissues and pushing her hair off her face to wipe away the tears.
“Better?” he finally murmured.
“God, I don’t know,” she mumbled. “I’m not even sure what I was crying about.”
“Why don’t you just chalk it up to stress relief,” he suggested.
A comforting thought, but there was more to it than that. Much more. Tonight, Joe had torn away part of the blinders she wore to get through her life with a measure of sanity. She didn’t want to see her world as it really was, dammit! Didn’t Joe understand that? She had to let a layer of fog obscure the sharp corners and harsh realities of it all. Her illusions were all she had.
“Come here, baby,” Joe murmured.
She rolled into his arms and clung to him tightly. She ought to be embarrassed by her complete breakdown, but Joe seemed to have taken it in stride.
“I’ll make it better, I swear,” he muttered into her hair.
Was he saying that to her or to himself? She couldn’t exactly tell.
“You already have,” she mumbled against his chest.
“How’s that?”
“Just by being here. By caring enough to make me face something ugly about myself.”
“There’s nothing ugly about you, Cari,” he said slowly. “Your father has brainwashed you into believing his bull. But now you’re growing up. You can look at what he says and does and see it more clearly.”
“You make me sound like some kid.”
“You are a kid,” he replied.
“I’m twenty-four. That’s not so young. And you have to admit that growing up in this house has exposed me to stuff most twenty-four-year-olds never have to deal with.”
He drew her even closer in a protective gesture. “In some ways, you’re more worldly than most fifty-year-olds. But your life has isolated you from certain lessons, as well. I don’t mean to insult you. You’re incredibly bright and wise for your age. But there’s no way around the fact that twenty-four is damned young.”
Too young for him? Was that what he was saying with such regret in his voice?
“How old are you?” she asked.
“Thirty-seven.”
“Wow. You’re just about ready for the old-folks’home. Do you need help taking your teeth out and brushing them or can you still manage that by yourself?”
“Hey!” he laughed. “I still get around. It’s just that—”
“I’m too young for you?” she suggested with a certain edge in her voice.
“Well, thirteen years is a big age difference.”
“Thirty years is a big age difference,” she retorted. “Thirteen isn’t that huge a chasm. Besides, when has love ever stopped to look at birth certificates? It happens where it wills. If two people are meant
to be together, age is meaningless.”
“Aha, the truth comes out. She’s a closet romantic!” Silence fell between them.
“Joe?”
“Hmm?”
“There’s something else I want tonight.”
Instant caution zinged through his voice. “What’s that?”
“Make love to me.”
He jolted beneath her.
She raised herself up on one elbow and stared down at him in the dark. “You know, by refusing to make love to me, you might just give me more of that emotional baggage you mentioned earlier. It would probably be best just to give in to what’s between us.”
He frowned at her. “There’s something between us?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Not much experience with women, Joseph?”
He scowled and she laughed at him. And then she leaned down and kissed him. That was more like it. The wildness she’d been feeling ever since she first met this man surged to the fore once more. Her hands skimmed across Joe’s shoulders, his neck and his face as her tongue swept into his mouth, inviting him in no uncertain terms to come play with her.
His arms came up around her as if to stop her from rubbing herself against him, but she groaned deep in her throat and Joe froze. The nature of the embrace changed. Answering hunger rattled in the back of his throat.
“We shouldn’t do this,” he gasped, tearing his mouth away from hers.
Gee, wasn’t that supposed to be the girl’s line? She tried to remember what the guys said to get past that particular protest but drew a blank. So she kissed him some more. And it was hot. No way would she ever get enough of this man. If she could figure out a way to inhale him, she would.
She crawled on top of him, reveling in his powerful body, rejoicing in the feeling of her breasts smashed against his hard chest. His hands roamed all over her back, up her ribs and brushed the sides of her breasts. Liquid heat sprang between her legs and she buried her face against the corded column of his neck.
“I can’t believe what you do to me,” she laughed. “You’re killing me.”
He reared up at that one, rolling her off him abruptly. But blessedly, he followed after her body with his, never breaking contact between them. His weight pressed her down into the mattress.
Desperate to have him fill her, one of her legs crept up, wrapping around his thighs in naked invitation.
“You’re the one who’s killing me, here,” he muttered.
“Then make love to me and we’ll die together,” she breathed up at him, her throat too tight to make any more noise than that.
He grinned. “Hey, that’s my line.”
“Well, you seemed to need a little help remembering what comes next.”
His eyebrows shot straight up.
She continued blithely, “I mean, seeing as you’ve had so little experience with women and all, I thought maybe I’d better help you along.”
“I don’t need any help, thank you,” he growled.
She studied him in mock seriousness. “I don’t know,” she said doubtfully. “Do you need me to tell you where everything goes?”
He laughed aloud at that. “Let’s see if I can figure it out for myself, shall we?”
She speared her hands deep into his hair and tugged his head down close to hers. “I’m all yours,” she whispered.
He sank into her by slow degrees, his mouth soft against hers, kissing her sweetly at first. His hands traced lightly over her skin, awakening her body, nerve by nerve. He kissed her deeply, but he was still holding back. A lot.
He was going to drive her crazy to get even with her for starting this thing. But what a way to go. She closed her eyes and savored the tingling progress of his fingertips. And when he’d finished with his hands, he began with his mouth. She had to give him credit for being thorough—he didn’t miss one inch of her body. He licked and nipped and sucked his way from paradise to hell and back, driving her steadily out of her mind with need.
And when he pushed her knees apart and sampled the sweetest fruits of her desire, she was sure she’d died. She trembled around the electrical currents building higher and higher within her, robbing her of breath. She raised her head off the pillows, her entire body taut as his tongue circled and teased her to the very edge of release.
And then he rose up over her, as dark and mysterious as the night around her, and plunged into the molten depths of her until she couldn’t tell where he ended and she began. She let out a cry as she exploded, and a great black void of nothing but incredible sensation burst over her, showering her in tingling pulsations that nearly tore her apart.
She opened her eyes, staring up in disbelief. Oh, she’d enjoyed sex before, but nothing like that had ever happened to her!
A slow smile broke across his face. “Do I have everything in the right place?”
She nodded, too out of breath to speak.
“Let’s see what happens when I do this.” And then he began to move again, a slow, gentle rocking that built and built until it became a hot, hard, driving thrust of flesh on slick flesh.
And the tension began to build again, stretching her out tighter and tighter until she thought she couldn’t stand it anymore. She surged up beneath him, straining toward release. She heard her own voice, husky with need, begging him for more.
And then a glittering explosion of pleasure filled the black void once more, rushing out to the very ends of her fingertips. In that endless moment, Joe buried his face against her neck and cried out against her skin, shuddering powerfully against her body. It was perfect.
She fell back against the mattress, panting. Oh. My. God.
How long they lay there, their limbs twisted together and their hearts pounding as one, she had no idea. But, eventually, she managed to mumble, “You’ve ruined me.”
Joe’s head jerked up off the pillow above her shoulder and he stared down at her. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No! But after that, I won’t be able to make love to anyone else for as long as I live.”
He frowned, looking alarmed.
She clarified. “Nobody else could ever top that. If you ever leave me, I’ll just have to swear off sex altogether. Because nothing less than that would ever do again.”
He rolled over, finally disengaging their bodies from one another. She missed the feeling of him deep inside her already.
“You may have spoiled me for any other woman, too,” he muttered, so quietly she wasn’t sure she was supposed to have heard it.
“Good thing we’re already married,” she said lightly.
Joe tensed beside her. Cursed.
She propped herself up in alarm. “What’s wrong?”
“I just may have negated our ability to get an annulment. I’m sorry, Cari. This means we might have to get a divorce when you finally get sick of me.”
She blinked a couple of times. Did he know what he’d just said? He’d just acknowledged that this was a real marriage. Furthermore, he’d said, “when you get sick of me.” Not the other way around. Was he starting to harbor thoughts of a long-term relationship with her? Could it be?
Aloud, she said fervently, “Remind me to thank Julia the next time I see her for sending you to me.”
Joe grinned. “I will. And remind me to thank her for sending me, too.”
A moment of silence fell. It lay there comfortably between them. A good thing, given what they’d just shared together. She figured it would either draw them closer together or send him running for the hills.
“Get some sleep,” he murmured. “You’ve had a big day.”
“What’s on the agenda for tomorrow?” she mumbled. “Can we do more of this, please?”
Joe’s finger traced her lips lazily. “That sounds like a plan.” But then he sighed. “I’d love to stick around here and find out what Eduardo plans to do with the information he’s buying, but after what we just—” he broke off. “Let’s just say, it’s more important than ever to get you out of here.”
“Good question. I still have to figure out some of the features of the house’s security system.”
In other words, butt out. It was too late to press the issue, but tomorrow she’d demand to know the details. And, speaking of late, she was getting sleepy.
She sighed, “The only person in the house who knows more about the security system than I do is Gunter. He used to show me all the controls and how they worked. Tomorrow, you can ask me anything you want to know.”
“Answer me one thing and then I really am going to let you go to sleep. Is there a basement in this place?”
“Mmm-hmm,” she replied, already half-unconscious.
Joe went stiff beneath her. His mind raced, finally emerging from the spell of their lovemaking, as Cari drifted off to sleep on his shoulder. God, she felt good, curled up against him like that.
She continued to amaze him with her resilience. She’d made good progress tonight toward breaking off her dependence on her old man. It had to be hard to let go of the only parent she’d ever had.
And he was a schmuck. It was cruel to make love to her— hell, to manipulate her emotions this way. She was a living, breathing woman with real feelings and real pain, and he was playing it all like a violin to his own advantage. He was worse than a schmuck.
The hell of it was, he really did care for Cari. Even if they hadn’t just shared the most mind-blowing sex of his adult life, he’d still be concerned about the way her father was using her. He’d still worry that she had no idea what love was or how it appropriately ought to be expressed.
He was falling for this woman—hard—despite his best efforts not to. Every time he turned around, she showed him some new facet to her personality. Yeah, sure, she had some problems. She was clueless about how to stand up for herself and, although she knew sisterly love, she clearly didn’t understand parental love. Plus, the whole idea of mutual respect between a man and a woman seemed to have escaped her experience. He didn’t even want to think about the men she’d dated before.
