Her drowsy words made him smile. She sat back on her legs then brushed his cheek with the back of her hand.
“Nyssa--” He wanted her to lie down with him.
“What?” Her hand rested on his chest. “When will you leave?”
He squeezed her hand in his own. “In a few hours. I have to finish the shoot and I’ve only two days left. The Colonel and Sarah--”
“Don’t forget Robert.”
“Robert, yes, I couldn’t forget him. They put a stop to my work. I’m behind schedule and I’ll have to call the magazine--let them know the pictures will arrive ASAP.
“Will you take me with you?”
“If you still want to go.” He turned on his side and laid an arm around her, very carefully, unwilling to make a false move and frighten her away.
She was his wife, for God’s sake. There wasn’t a soul in the world that would condemn him if he lowered his mouth to hers, if he pulled her beneath him and made love to her--to his wife.
No one would think twice, or say a word, except Nyssa.
“Sweetheart.” He wrapped his hands around the back of her head and pulled her closer. He needed to hold her very badly. He needed to touch her and kiss her, and let her know how he felt. Because she still meant to wed Robert. “Nyssa?”
And then his alarm went off.
She stiffened and pushed away from him as if she understood what he’d intended from the moment she walked into the room and asked if he was asleep.
“You were going to leave without me.”
Solo sat up and switched the light on. “Yes.” Though he’d answered her truthfully, he shouldn’t have. With that single word the look on her face became shuttered and cold. Too late, “I didn’t think you wanted to spend the last few days in a tent.”
“You were wrong.”
Nyssa’s reply was crisp but she made him smile. “Then I can count on your company and assistance.”
“I told you I’d help.”
“Oh, and Nyssa.”
She sat back on her knees.
“Perhaps you could be willing, able, and eager.”
“If that’s what you want in an assistant.”
***
“What on earth happened?”
“The storm on our wedding day must have washed through here with a vengeance.” Solo kicked at the charred remains of a campfire before he turned his attention to the dilapidated tent. The wind had picked the stakes out of the ground and sent them hurtling through the air until they landed yards away from the structure they were meant to hold down. The tent itself was pinned between two boulders and a fallen tree.
“I suppose we’ll have to sleep under the stars.”
Solo smiled, the first since seeing his demolished campsite. “A romantic thought,” he said. “But no. I can salvage enough so we have a roof over our heads. Don’t think for one minute I’ll take you back to the cabin. Whether or not you like what you see, you’re here for the two days or however many it takes to get the necessary shots.”
“I’m tougher than I look, Solo St. John. Now tell me what needs to be done and we can get this show on the road.”
“See if you can find all the stakes. If you can’t, I’ll have to make whatever we need.”
A few hours later, Nyssa straightened and brushed her hair from her eyes.
“There’s a cute charcoal smudge on your nose, pumpkin.”
The smile vanished to be replaced by a light that surely looked like retribution to Solo. He liked that look.
“Do you call me pumpkin to make me mad or infuriate me?”
“Both.”
“Do you want to fight it out now or later?”
“Now.” He pounded the last stake into the ground with one hard blow and whirled to face her.
“I was joking.” Nyssa backed up a step then turned to run, a prudent action under the circumstances.
Solo wasn’t sure what he’d do if he caught her and held her in his arms again. After this morning, he’d decided once again he couldn’t be close to her without losing control. Even with that thought at the top of his mind, he followed. Masculine pride, the need to possess her once, he wasn’t sure what made him go after her, but he did.
Solo caught her easily. She was where he wanted her, in his arms, her face tilted to his--ready. He swept her off her feet and carried her back to the fire.
“Queen of the wolves.” He set her on a stump. “Coffee?”
“Queen?” She laughed and the sound was infectious. “Of course I’d like some and since you’re waiting on me, I’d like--”
“To eat dinner and after that see if we can get one perfect shot. One good enough to go on the front cover.”
“Is that why we’re here?”
Solo nodded. “I’ve got enough pictures for the story, but I don’t have that one perfect shot. The one that will make the readers remember the story forever. The one people will save.”
“I wondered. I knew from experience you had enough good pictures.” Nyssa sipped the coffee Solo handed her.
“I’ll stay out every night until I get--”
“The picture.”
“Yes.” God, she was beautiful. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, a red scrunchy holding the long ends together. Although she didn’t have shorts on, her jeans molded to the length of her legs, leaving little to the imagination. More than the way she looked, he liked the woman she had become. She laughed often, her lips tilted into a smile rather than slanting down with worry. When she looked toward the hills, her profile haunted him and he wondered what she thought, what she wanted--needed now. He had to know if he meant anything to her other than an unwanted distraction, and he had to know if she understood his need to stay here until he was satisfied with the job he’d done.
If one of his friends, male or female, would understand, Nyssa would.
“I want to go with you.”
And he knew the truth then. Nyssa did know what made him tick, what made him happy and she wanted to be a part of his life.
“Good. Let’s eat and we’ll see if we can get a few more good shots.”
“Do you think the wolves will trust you?”
“Don’t have a clue. But we’ll be far enough away that I hope our presence won’t matter.”
***
Three long uneventful nights passed.
Nyssa was due back at the bike shop, so they used his cell to call the trading post and have the owner call Candace.
All those long hours in the shelter together, yet unable to read each other’s mind, left Nyssa confused and frustrated. She didn’t know what to do with her hands when they brushed Solo’s arm. She didn’t know what to do with her legs when he shifted position and they touched. Through all this Solo acted oblivious to her. With binoculars perched on his nose or camera to his eye, he didn’t know she existed. Oh, they spoke once in a while and he ate when she handed him food.
Silence had never bothered her before, now she wanted to talk, not a lot, maybe one word every hour or two. Since they arrived Nyssa had lost count of the number of pictures Solo shot and the number of times she'd downloaded the pictures onto her laptop. Somehow the number didn’t matter anymore. Solo had huge circles under his eyes from lack of sleep, and if she looked in a mirror she decided she wouldn’t look much better. If he didn’t get the photograph he wanted in the next ten hours, she would demand he take her to the cabin for a good night’s sleep.
So immersed in complaining to herself, she missed the sudden stiffening of Solo’s muscles. The subtle hush he sent her way although she hadn’t said a word for hours.
The rapid fire click of the camera alerted her and she waited. High on the hill in front of them the leader of the pack paced back and forth. The moon was covered by thin filaments of clouds and the sun was a sliver on the eastern horizon. Still dark but the hint of a new day rose in eerie precision. The wolf was met by his mate. They sniffed and the male sat back on his haunches. Slowly, he tilted his head to the moon, a mournful wail fi
lling the night so all could hear. The scene was poignant, a reminder of what the earth had been like thousands of years before man covered it with cities. Holding his breath Solo pressed down on the button and the shutter clicked.
This was the picture Solo had waited so patiently for. They were through now and she’d never forget this night.
As if nothing had happened Solo packed his cameras, the tripod--everything.
To Nyssa, “Let’s go home.”
“All right.” She wasn’t sure what home he referred to, but she understood his need to leave. She stretched her cramped muscles before she followed him down the hill to the tent.
As she stared at the tent, she knew this was the end and she knew too, she didn’t want the adventure in Alaska to end this way. Tomorrow they’d be home--really home and without Solo, the rooms would feel so empty.
She’d wanted Solo St. John for ten years, and this was her last chance. He had already called the trading post to arrange a plane out. In the morning they’d no longer be a couple. Her heart sped up. Her face flushed with love and desire. Damn the consequences, one way or the other, she meant to seduce him. Even if she never saw him again, she’d have this night to remember and hold close to her heart forever.
“Solo?”
“What?”
Nyssa lifted the camera from around his neck and set it in his bag.
His eyes darkened, she hoped with desire. “I can take care of my equipment. You don’t have to wait on me.”
“I’m tired of watching you work, sick of doing nothing but stare into the dark and think about you.” She crawled into the tent and held the flap open for him, an invitation, she prayed, he wouldn’t refuse. He followed.
She patted the sleeping bag. “Would you make love to me if I asked you to?”
He sat down beside her but didn’t answer.
“I’ll understand if you say no,” she said quietly, her fingers clenched tightly together. She moistened her lips as she watched the change of expressions on his face and wondered what he thought of her. “I won’t make any demands on you after this.”
“What if I want demands.”
“I won’t,” she said. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Nyssa.” He whispered close to her ear. “What if I want to worry about you.”
She shrugged not really sure what he meant.
“Do you want me?”
She nodded.
He touched her cheek, the length of her neck then gathered her closer until they were side-by-side on top of the makeshift bed.
His mouth was so warm and persistent. He framed her face with his hands, and he dropped desperate little kisses on her cheeks and her forehead, on her eyelids.
She’d dreamt of this so many times, never believing for a minute he’d make love to her. For so long, she’d watched him give his affection to other women and never notice her.
For so long, she’d wanted to let her feelings for him show. But she’d kept those emotions bottled up inside her, so deep she’d forgotten they existed.
She didn’t want him to leave her, but he’d risen and his fingers tore at the buttons of his shirt then hers. He must have heard her gasp and saw the hint of panic in her expression because he slowed, tenderly brushing the sleeves of her blouse off her shoulders.
“Do you want me, Solo?”
“Oh, God, Nyssa,” he said tenderly. “I’ve never wanted anyone so much. That’s all I can think of--holding you--touching you. I’m shaking.”
With those words, and under his bold gaze, she felt more desirable than she’d ever thought possible and she gave herself over to his reckless and desperate love making.
Solo covered her hot, fevered flesh with his mouth and his hands, cupping her breasts, teasing her, leaving her trembling with need.
She had dreamt of this moment, a moment where nothing else mattered. His fingers and his lips moved over her in exquisite gentleness patiently tormenting her until she arched toward him, begging.
But he didn’t listen to her pleas.
She tried to pull him closer, to touch him too, but he held her hands away, still teasing her with subtle promises.
Her fingers laced with his, quivered with the need to slip along his back and explore. Her breast ached for his touch, for his lips and her nipples stiffened, tightened into tight little nubs. Solo edged closer but not close enough to touch.
“Solo, please.”
He covered her with his lips, gently bit down, and she moaned softly, thinking she’d died and gone to heaven.
She pushed off the sleeping bag, rubbing her jeans against his, desperate for the hard, heavy feel of him pressed to her. Intemperate with need, she didn’t care, out of control and in a mindless daze of heat and passion she knew only that this was Solo, her knight in shining armor, her hero.
She meant to find out all she could about herself and the man she loved before this night ended.
“Take these off,” he said, his voice a husky whisper in the dawn shadows.
He let go of her hands and she pushed and tugged at them wishing they weren’t so difficult to remove. He struggled out of his own and when they were naked, she absorbed the full masculine picture of Solo St. John. Hard, breathtakingly wonderful. She couldn’t get enough of him. She wanted to lay there forever and drink in the sight of him.
Tall, slim, handsomely muscled, Solo had a devil-may-care look of mischief and delight etched on his beautiful face. She ran her hands up his arms, marveling in the sleek taut texture of his skin. She filled her mind with the memory of the way he felt, held the thoughts captive so she could pull them forth in the cold lonely nights that lay ahead of her after this.
“I want to look at you,” she said her voice a soft whisper.
“Hush.” He nipped at her lower lip, wrestling her around until he was on top. His rigid arousal brushed her thigh, and she arched upward, needing the feel of him against her. But he angled himself away and held her hands so she couldn’t reach him.
“Solo.” Her voice was a strangled plea. If this was going to be their one and only time together she wanted to know the feel of him, run her fingers along his length. The bottom line--she wanted to know every inch of him.
But he wouldn’t allow her to touch. “I want to look at you.” His voice was trembling and husky as if he could barely speak the words. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this moment with you, how much I love your hair, the way you smile when you say something silly, the blush that heats your cheeks when I act outrageous or when I kiss you? I love the sounds you make when I stroke you, here.”
He did touch her and she gasped out loud at the wonder of it.
“I love the way your eyes darken with desire, the way your heart pounds frantically when I get close.” He traced her lips with his thumb then his tongue and she parted for him. “The way you taste--like honey. I want you more every time I look at you.”
Poised above her, his body fitted to her, he slid himself against her, teased her, brought her to a mindless frenzy. She strained to press herself closer to ease the building climax but Solo wouldn’t allow her.
Safari Moon Page 20
