She sank onto the sofa, then wrapped her fingers around the glass as if it was some sort of a talisman. It was only her second glass of wine and she was accustomed to having far more than that without feeling its effects.
Tonight she wished she could drink enough to somehow deaden the pain, the fear that continued to war within her. But that wasn't her.
With a sigh, she let her head fall back against the sofa cushion and closed her eyes. "God, I wish this was over."
"It will be," he promised quietly. The kindness in his voice made her open her eyes again and look at him. "And then you and Casey will work at putting it all behind you."
She desperately wanted to believe him. But she was so afraid. So very afraid. Because she needed reassurance that someday her life would go back to being normal, she turned toward him. Her eyes asked for gentle honesty. "Did you ever put it behind you? Your kidnapping?" she added when he said nothing.
He knew that was what she was asking and knew what she wanted to hear. But it wasn't in him to lie. He hated the very idea. "I'm not exactly someone you'd want to use as a role model."
"Why not?" Her eyes held his as she tried to read his mind. Was that pain she saw? Or was that just mirroring her own? "You didn't put it behind you?"
He shrugged, wanting to look away. Being unable to. "My case is different from yours."
Every case was different, but this one had so many similarities, too. "You were still kidnapped. Still taken away from a home you felt loved in. Still had to deal with that."
Chad shook his head. "Different," he repeated adamantly. Seeing the surprise in her face, he softened his voice. "Casey won't be asked to forgive his kidnapper."
For a moment she didn't understand. Didn't understand that and didn't understand why the room felt as if it was growing warmer as she looked into his eyes. There was a fire in the fireplace, but if anything, it was burning down, not growing stronger.
"Your father asked you to forgive him?"
He found himself growing uncomfortable. Uncomfortable with the question and more uncomfortable with the reaction he felt whispering along the perimeter of his consciousness. A reaction to the woman sitting so close to him.
"You know, I don't generally get this personal with a client."
"You're not getting personal with a client," she protested softly, unable to look away from the bluest eyes she had ever seen. Eyes that made her think of the sky as it was on the verge of darkening. "The client is getting personal with you. Because she needs to." Veronica tried valiantly to keep the desperation out of her voice. "Maybe talking to you is the only thing keeping me from going over the edge."
He wished she wouldn't do that. Wouldn't place herself in his hands like that. It was one thing to do it with her faith that he would solve the case; it was another when she was offering him the broken piece of her soul.
"You're not the type," he told her gruffly, wishing she wouldn't look at him like that. Wishing he didn't suddenly want her the way he did.
Taking another sip, she laughed softly, shaking her head at the irony of his words. "What do you know about my type? The society pages don't have a clue who I really am."
There they were in agreement. "Wouldn't think they would." He thought back to what he had read. "Although there were some nice things said about your fund-raising abilities." She looked at him, surprised at the secondhand compliment. "I'm basing my answer on what I see in your eyes. What I hear in your voice."
Her mouth curved. "When it's not quavering."
"Even when it is." He found himself wanting to touch her face and wished now that he had taken her up on that drink. It would have been something to do with his hands. "Strong is strong, and you, Veronica Lancaster, are a strong woman. You didn't cave in when the kidnapper called. Instead, you came to the agency."
That didn't strike her as strong—that was only sensible. "Because I needed a knight-errant to keep me from caving in."
He'd never thought of himself as vain, but he had to admit he liked the comparison. "Is that what I am? A knight-errant?"
She nodded, sipping again. The wine slid easily down her throat. "Closest thing I've seen to Lancelot in my lifetime."
"What about your husband?"
She paused for a second, casting Robert. "He was more the King Arthur type. Good, intuitively smart, faithful."
The Camelot myth had been Chad's mother's favorite. "But the queen still strayed from him and went to Lancelot's room."
"Yes, she did." Her eyes on his again, the words left her lips slowly.
The single phrase lingered in the air between them, as did the warm glow from the fireplace. Before sense prevailed, Chad leaned forward and took the glass from her hand. And then, ever so softly, he pressed his lips to hers.
Something flared within him, spiking high like a surge of electricity, leaping up before settling down again into the normal pattern.
Except that he wasn't settling.
He drew his head back before he was tempted to go forward. Without thinking, he ran the tip of his tongue along his mouth.
"I can taste the wine on your lips." He watched her mouth curve in response. "I said I wasn't going to drink tonight."
Veronica's eyes never left his. "I don't think what you find on my lips is going to impair your judgment any."
He laughed softly. "I'd rethink that if I were you."
A spark flared in the fireplace, hissing as it fell back. Startled, she turned to look at it, her hair brushing his cheek. He felt his stomach tighten and realized that he didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of walking away from her at this moment.
The way he knew he should.
Instead, he weakened and gave in. Chad took her into his arms and brought his lips to hers a second time.
Chapter 12
It was meant, when he looked back at it later, to be a simple unguarded act of comfort. Though he had weakened, it was only supposed to be a soft kiss, nothing more. But the instant it began, it turned into something so much more. For both of them.
It was like touching a match to a long string of dynamite. The fire that ignited didn't extinguish. Instead, it traveled, moving faster and faster, to something that was far larger, far more encompassing than Chad had dreamed.
The stirrings he'd been vaguely aware of, trying to bank down and ignore, woke up.
Before the kiss flowered into something he wasn't completely incapable of handling, he caught hold of himself and drew his head back. His pulse slightly unsteady, he took hold of her shoulders. He looked into her eyes and found himself capitulating before he formed the first word.
This wasn't right.
"Maybe I'd better not stay."
Being alone last night had been almost more than she'd been able to bear. The thought of being alone again tonight drove shafts of panic through her. Her fingers tightened on his arms as she looked at him. "Don't go. Please."
"If I stay…" His voice trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid.
She knew what she was asking. Knew what would happen if he remained. But she needed his comfort, needed to have him here. He understood more than anyone what she was going through. If there was a price to pay for that later, so be it. She'd pay it. As long as she didn't have to be alone tonight.
"Please," she repeated quietly, her eyes eloquently supplicating.
He knew he should walk away. Here, now, he should just get up and leave.
But he couldn't.
The look in her eyes wouldn't let him. It held him prisoner.
His mouth went down on hers again, erasing the word that had lingered on her lips. He didn't want her to plead, didn't want her asking for something he was, heaven help him, so willing to give.
In less than a heartbeat, soft kisses gave way to passionate ones, and gentle touches grew into urgent caresses. It was as if there was a cauldron inside him, simmering for so long and now suddenly whatever had been within had expanded, boiling over. Drenching everything it came in contact with. Drenc
hing him.
Chad tightened his arms around her as an urgency began to hammer away at him.
She hadn't been with a man since before her husband had died. Eighteen months. The responses that had suddenly woken up within her caught Veronica by surprise. Desires sprang up, demanding to be recognized. To be fed. As if she'd been on a prolonged fast and was now hungry beyond all understanding.
As his mouth fed hungrily on hers, as his hands, first gently, then possessively, passed over her body, a passion rose within her that made her head spin.
Veronica didn't recognize herself or what was happening to her. This was utterly new. She shivered as she felt his lips pass along her collarbone, his tongue lightly touch the tip of her ear as his breath set her on fire.
She had thought, until this moment, that she and Robert had had a satisfactory love life. She had thought that she knew all about lovemaking. But she was beginning to realize that she had only scratched the surface of what could be. She'd never felt her entire body ignite before, burning like a wild ember in the center of a raging fire.
All she could think of was that she wanted more. Needed more.
Her heart was slamming against her rib cage as he pulled her sweater up over her head, then tossed it aside. Having his eyes on hers made it that much more thrilling, that much more exciting.
The desire she saw in his eyes almost made her heart stop beating altogether.
Twin flaming arrows shot through her breasts as his palms rubbed just the tips of her nipples through the light fabric of her bra. They peaked, hard, tight, filling her with wanting. Wanting to feel his strong, capable hands take possession of her.
The next moment, the material between them disappeared with an adept movement of his thumb and forefinger. Her bra landed in her lap. Veronica's eyes fluttered shut as she absorbed the sensation of his skin against hers. She bit her lower lip to keep back the moan.
And then he was on his feet, carrying her in his arms. He crossed to the stairs. If there was a protest, it never had a chance to surface. His mouth was pressed against hers. Her head swirling, she had the vague sensation of being carried upstairs.
Entering her room, Chad set her down again, letting the length of her body brush his before her feet touched the rug. Then, slowly, methodically, as if this was a ritual that her station in life demanded, he removed her skirt and panties.
Her breath was coming in short snatches. With sure fingers, she grasped the edge of his shirt, pulled it away from his trousers and pushed buttons out of holes. She dragged the shirt from his shoulders a beat before he dragged her mouth to his, caressing her hair, pressing her body to his.
Together they tumbled onto the bed.
Passion exploded, rocking her as she felt first his hands, then his lips exploring her body like some undiscovered terrain. A kiss here, a caress there, heightening her excitement without cutting the edge off it until she felt like a mindless, pulsating mass of needs.
She twisted and turned beneath him, limp with pleasure and wild with anticipation.
He made her feel things she had never felt before. And mercifully he blotted out her mind as she was reduced to nothing more than passion and pleasure.
Quickly, outracing his thoughts before they could catch up to him and force him to stop, Chad dispensed with his trousers. He could feel his body heating to temperatures that couldn't be measured by instruments invented by man.
All he could think about was making love with her.
He knew he was breaking every rule he'd ever made for himself, but knowing didn't seem to help. He couldn't pull back, couldn't stop. Not even if his life depended on it.
It was as if he'd been waiting for this moment, this woman, this feeling all his life.
Desire had always been just a physical sensation for him. Now it was that and something more, something he couldn't define. Something he was afraid to define because identifying it would capture him even more solidly than this woman with the wide, vulnerable green eyes, this woman whose need ignited his own.
His lips were everywhere. Over and over again, he touched and caressed, fascinated by her reactions. Her soft moans heated his blood, bringing him up even higher. The obvious pleasure he heard escape her lips brought him a satisfaction of its own and made him want to heighten her reactions even more.
Though lovemaking was a pleasurable thing, Chad couldn't remember ever feeling this involved. Always before, there had been distance, a place to which he retreated while he watched himself make love to a woman. It was as if he could float above what was happening.
This time, there was no retreat, no safe place for him to stand off to. The ground had been taken away and he was free-falling along with this woman he couldn't seem to get enough of.
Chad passed the heel of his hand against her soft belly, pressing just enough to evoke sensations that made her twist harder against him. Made her grasp his forearms as if to pull her into him.
He brought his mouth down to where his hand had been and felt her flesh quiver beneath his lips.
She tasted of innocence, of things he'd never tasted before.
Ridiculous thought, given who she was and that she had a child.
But the word innocence continued to echo in his brain, making him humble for the gift he was sharing.
Making him proud.
He did what he could to bring her to the crest of fulfillment first. It wasn't hard to know the exact moment it happened. There were no games. She wasn't coy. He found himself enjoying the way her eyes flew open the first time the explosion flowered within her.
Chad felt her nails digging into his shoulders as she arched to absorb the core of the storm. His own desire grew exponentially until he was completely intoxicated with it. And besotted with her.
He couldn't hold back any longer.
With her breath rasping against his ear, warming his blood even more, Chad drove himself into her. He muffled her cries with his mouth as his hips melded with hers. The last dance had begun. A dance that was theirs alone.
Poised above her, trying to balance himself so that he wouldn't hurt her, Chad grabbed fistfuls of sheet beneath his hands as the final thrust brought the elusive, sought-after sensation.
Formless words came to him, floating through his brain, shimmering just out of reach.
And then euphoria blanketed him and, with it, a sense of profound contentment. It took him a moment to identify the feeling. Another to examine it in awed wonder. He'd never experienced that before.
After lovemaking there had always been a sense of exhaustion, perhaps with it a desire to sleep. But never anything further. Nothing like… whatever this was.
He pushed it back, not wanting to examine it too closely. Afraid of losing it. Afraid of wanting to find it again.
He realized that he had his arm around her and was holding her close against his side.
"Was I all right?" she asked.
The question, quiet, shy, honest, cut through the haze that was still clinging to his brain. It took him a second to make sense of it.
When he did, Chad felt something akin to a chuckle in his chest and wondered at it. He wasn't a man given to things like chuckling. But the question struck him as amusing. Didn't she realize that she'd all but made the walls shake around them? That even now, with her against him, he felt the distant lick of appetites beginning all over again, he, who was always satisfied to make love only once?
"Only if the gods of the dictionary decide to write an entirely new definition of the expression all right." He cradled her to him so that he could look down into her face. She was serious, he thought. The chuckle faded. "Why? Did I give you any cause to doubt that you were anything but magnificent?"
She blushed then. Like a schoolgirl, he thought. There was nothing of the sophisticated socialite here in his arms. Only a woman who could have easily had a battalion of men eagerly jumping through hoops to sample just a little of what he'd just had.
Veronica hesitated, the blush deepenin
g. "It's just that I'm not very experienced. I mean, other than Robert, I didn't… And then Robert… he was a very good lover, but he wasn't…" This wasn't coming out right, she thought. Chad probably thought she was an idiot. She finally found the word she was looking for—or at least one that was close. "Energetic." She lowered her eyes, embarrassed to look at him. "I just wanted to know if I satisfied you."
"Satisfied me?" He rolled the term around on his tongue, wondering again how she could possibly be serious. "Yes and no."
"Yes and no?"
Turning suddenly, Chad was over her again, his hands framing her head, his eyes looking into hers. His body intimately touching hers and heating quickly. Damn, but he wanted her again.
One for the books, he thought.
"Yes, you satisfied me. More than satisfied me," he said. "But you also made me want more." Ever so lightly, he began to kiss her lips again, first the upper, then the lower. He heard her sigh of surrender, and his blood began to surge again, pulsing to his loins. "Hence," he breathed, barely passing his tongue along both her lips, "yes and no."
Her body awakened again, she moved beneath him, silently extending a welcoming to the invitation she had received. "Oh, now I understand."
"As long as we're clear."
"Very." Entwining her arms around his neck, Veronica raised her lips to his, capturing them. Capturing him. And slipping gladly back into paradise for a second time.
She'd always been a quick riser. Unlike her younger sister, Veronica popped up out of bed like bread from a toaster. But this time she was reluctant to leave the sheltering arms of sleep behind. She'd spent what little there'd been left of the night reliving their lovemaking in her dreams, and the netherworld was much more preferable to the world that waited to greet her at first light.
But her inner clock was preset and roused the rest of her. Slowly she opened her eyes and realized that morning had joined them, dressed in full regalia. Surprised that she had slept in, Veronica tried to focus on her surroundings.
Chad was already up on his side of the bed, slipping his jeans on over hips unencumbered by underwear. She felt her cheeks heating right along with the rest of her body.
Hero for Hire Page 13
