“Does this feel as awkward to you as it does to me?” Desiree asked with a shy smile.
“I don’t know how you feel,” Carter replied, “but this has been the longest three weeks of my life.”
Desiree gave a startled laugh. “We’ve only been married for two.”
“I’ve wanted you since the night I met you, since the moment you came downstairs and I saw you for the first time without that awful moth-eaten coat.”
“But my face—”
“Has a terrible scar. I know.” He gently removed her hand from where it had crept to cover her cheek. “There’s more to you than your face, Desiree. You’re a beautiful woman.”
But even as he said the words, he was avoiding her scar with his eyes.
Desiree noticed there had been no words of love spoken. But, then, she hadn’t expected them. They had met and married under unusual circumstances and had known each other too briefly for stronger feelings to grow between them. The desires of the flesh did not need love or commitment to flourish. The animal instinct to couple and reproduce was bred deep. They could want without loving.
And she did want Carter. Her need grew as his fingertips followed where his eyes led, across the shoulders of her knit dress and lower where the flesh was exposed along her collarbone, then down along the line of buttons between her breasts to her belly, before they fanned out to circle her hips.
“Come here,” he murmured as he pulled her toward him. A moment later their bodies were flush from waist to thigh.
Desiree stiffened reflexively at the intimate contact. She closed her eyes, caught her lower lip in her teeth and forced herself to relax. This wasn’t Burley. This was Carter. When she opened her eyes, Carter was staring down at her.
Carter realized suddenly how important it was for him to keep a firm grip on his desire. He didn’t want to frighten Desiree. And yet he did not feel in control when he was near her. The scent of her, the taste of her, had him hard and ready. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out in an attempt to steady his pounding pulse.
“I can stop anytime you want,” he said. “Anytime.”
Desiree lifted a disbelieving brow. “Anytime?”
“Anytime. There’s no such thing as a point of no return,” Carter said. “That’s an old wives’ tale. A man can stop. It might not be pleasant. But he can stop.”
Desiree felt tears welling in her eyes. “I wish—”
“Shh.” He put a callused fingertip to her lips. “No looking backward. There’s only tonight. Just you and me. I don’t want anyone else in this bedroom with us.”
She nodded.
He kissed her eyes closed, then let his lips drift downward toward her mouth. Desiree could feel the tension in his back and arms, the raging passion leashed by consideration for her fear. It wasn’t fair, Desiree thought, that the man she had loved should have been so brutal, and this stranger so tender.
“Desiree?”
“Don’t stop,” she whispered.
Slowly, one at a time, he undid the buttons of her navy knit dress. She heard his murmur of approval as he revealed the black lace camisole she had worn, contemplating just such a moment. He slid the dress over her shoulders and freed her arms before shoving it down over her hips until it landed in a circle around her feet. She was left wearing only her camisole and tap pants.
Goose bumps rose on her skin.
“You’re cold,” he said as he enfolded her in his arms.
“You have on too many clothes,” she replied, forcing him away far enough that she could reach the buttons on his shirt. Her hands were trembling, but it wasn’t from the cold. Carter smiled and made short work of his buttons, letting the shirt slide down his arms. She pushed his long john shirt up and he pulled it off over his head.
At the sight of his bare chest she paused. He was so different from Burley. There was a small triangle of black curls at the center of his chest and a thin line of black down that headed past his navel. He took her hands and laid them on his chest.
“Touch me, Desiree.”
It was easier than she had thought it would be to let her hands roam at will over the firm muscles of his chest. To her amazement, his nipples hardened into peaks as her fingertips brushed across them.
Carter’s hands were moving in a mirror image of her own and she felt a corresponding response in her body.
“That feels wonderful,” Desiree said breathlessly.
“You can say that again,” Carter muttered as Desiree’s hands tensed down across his belly. He slid his hands down to cup the warmth between her legs.
“That feels wonderful.” Desiree was in a state of euphoria, reveling in the powerful feelings he evoked.
Carter lowered the straps on the camisole. It caught for an instant on the tips of her breasts before slipping to her waist. He shoved it down along with her tap pants.
She immediately crossed her arms over her breasts and belly to cover her nakedness.
He laughed. “What are you hiding?”
She resisted momentarily when he grasped her wrists to remove her hands, but realized she was only postponing the inevitable.
He gasped when he saw what she had been trying to conceal from him. “What the hell?”
His eyes sought hers, asking questions, demanding answers. “I wasn’t going to ask how your face got cut,” he said in a voice roughened by emotion. “But I don’t think I can keep quiet about the rest of these scars.”
She flinched when his hand reached out to the faint, criss-cross scars on her breasts. She hissed in a breath as his fingertips followed the long slash that arced down her belly.
“I was attacked,” she said.
“By a man,” he concluded. “Which explains why you jump every time I come up behind you. Lord, Desiree, why didn’t you tell me?”
She hung her head, knowing she should tell him now about Burley. He had given her the perfect opening to do so. But she couldn’t. He would be disgusted with her. And this evening would be at an end. If it wasn’t already.
“I know they’re ugly to look at,” she began.
“Nothing about you is ugly,” Carter retorted fiercely.
Not even my face? she wanted to ask. She looked up to find out whether he was telling the truth. His eyes touched her body like hands, searching out her secrets. She kept waiting for his disgust—or her fear—to rise and spoil what was happening between them, but it never came. All she saw in his eyes was admiration, adoration.
“Come to bed, Desiree.” Carter took her hand and drew her toward the bed. She knew he could feel her reluctance, because he paused.
“Have you changed your mind?”
She shook her head. “Unless you have.”
He shook his head. “Is there something else you need?”
“I want to leave the light on.” That would mean he would have to face her scars, but she hoped maybe she wouldn’t encounter so many demons of the past if she kept the dark at bay.
He smiled. “That’s fine with me.”
Carter picked her up again and laid her on the bed, then rid himself of his trousers, long underwear and socks and joined her there. Desiree had already pulled the sheets up to her neck because she felt so self-conscious about her scars.
Carter slipped right under the covers with her and drew her into his arms so their bodies were aligned. They fit as though they were meant to be together, breast and thigh and belly. She could feel his heat and the hardness of his shaft against her thigh.
Her greatest fear was that now that they were in bed together he would satisfy his need and leave her wanting, as Burley had done so often.
She couldn’t have been more wrong.
He went back to kissing her, concentrating on her mouth and neck and shoulders until she was undulating beneath him. His hands sought out places on her body she hadn’t guessed could be so sensitive, making her arch toward his touch.
But she knew it was taking too long for her to become aroused. She could feel the r
igid tension in his shoulders, the hard muscles of his thighs. She knew he was ready. He must be impatient to get it over with.
“I…I’m ready now,” she told him. She wanted to please him. She wanted him to want to do this again. So she was willing to end her own pleasure so he could find his.
Carter’s hand slid down her belly to the nest of curls between her legs. He slid a finger inside, but it didn’t penetrate easily.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “I think maybe you need some more of this.” His mouth slid down from her shoulder to her breast, where he circled her nipple with his tongue.
Desiree gasped. “What are you doing?”
“Kissing you.”
“There?”
She saw the moment of shock on his face before he asked, “Your husband never kissed your breasts?”
Desiree was totally mortified. Her face turned pink. She shook her head. “No,” she breathed. “He…he couldn’t wait for…for the other.”
Carter swore under his breath.
She shrank back against the bedding.
“Desiree, honey, I’m not angry with you. Honey, please…let me love you.”
Desiree eyed him warily. “You…you want to kiss my breasts?”
A roguish grin tilted his lips. “Uh-huh.”
“It did feel…kind of nice,” she admitted shyly. She lay back against the pillow, but her whole body was tensed.
“Relax,” he crooned. His mouth caught hers in a swift kiss, and while she was still enjoying its effects, he swept lower and captured her nipple with his mouth. He teased, he sucked, he nipped. Desiree felt things she hadn’t even imagined were possible.
“I feel…I feel…”
“What do you feel?” Carter rasped.
“Everything. I can feel everything!” Desiree exulted. She wasn’t even close to frigid. Far from it. With Carter, her whole body was burning with sensual desire.
Carter’s tenderness soon gave way to ardor and became an unquenchable hunger.
“Carter,” she begged. “Now!”
Once again, his hand slid down her belly, into the nest of curls, finding another spot she hadn’t even been aware existed.
“Oh! Oh, my!” The pleasure was so intense she felt the urge to escape as much as the urge to lie still so he could keep on with whatever it was he was doing. She had done some reading since her divorce from Burley, but words in a book couldn’t do justice to what she was experiencing.
“So you think you’re ready now,” he said in a husky voice.
“Yesss,” she hissed.
He pressed a finger inside her, and it slid easily into the moist passage. She recognized the difference between this time and the last, and realized Carter had taken the time to be sure she was aroused.
She knew he had recognized her readiness when he used his knees to spread her legs and placed himself above her. She put her hands at his waist and looked into his eyes.
“It’s all right, Desiree. We have all the time in the world.”
She clenched her muscles in readiness for the pain she expected. But Carter didn’t thrust himself inside her as Burley had. Instead he probed slowly at the entrance to her womb, pushing a little way inside her and then backing off before intruding again. Until finally, without any pain to her—and with a great deal of self-control on his part—he was fully inside her.
It didn’t hurt at all! In fact, it felt decidedly good. Her body instinctively arched upward into his.
Carter gave a grunt of pleasure.
Desiree lowered her bottom and thrust again.
Carter groaned.
“Am I hurting you, Carter?”
“You’re killing me,” Carter said with a husky laugh. “Just please don’t stop!”
Desiree was delighted with the reversal of roles, but it wasn’t long before Carter was doing his part to help.
With the joining of their bodies, Desiree found herself reaching out to Carter with body and soul, seeking the satisfaction that she had been denied for so long. When it happened, when her body violently convulsed, she tried to fight it.
“Come with me, love. Ride it out. Let it happen,” Carter urged.
She looked up and saw the sheen of sweat that beaded his brow, the hank of damp hair that hung over his forehead, the light burning fiercely in his eyes. She could see the leashed passion waiting to erupt, held on a fraying tether. He was keeping his promise to her. Even now, she was in control.
That knowledge freed her to give rein to the passions that threatened to overwhelm her. Her body spasmed, her muscles tightening in exquisite pleasure as a groan forced its way past her throat. Carter thrust once more, arching his head back as he spilled his seed.
The best was yet to come. When they were both sated, instead of abandoning her, Carter reached out to pull her snugly into his arms, with one of his legs thrown over hers in a continuing embrace.
Desiree was breathless, embarrassed and exhilarated all at once. “That was…wonderful,” she said with a shaky laugh.
“That word seems to be getting a lot of use tonight,” Carter said with chuckle.
“I don’t think anything else quite describes how I’m feeling right now,” she admitted.
She was afraid to ask him how he felt, but she didn’t believe he was dissatisfied, and certainly not disgusted. She didn’t want to do anything to spoil the mood. It was hard to believe this sort of ecstasy could be repeated again and again all the years of their married life.
Desiree found solace for her bruised heart in Carter’s arms. All the loving, all the gentle care she would have given to Burley, she bestowed on Carter. Tonight held a promise of the future, a hope for the new year. They would be good partners—in bed and out. Unfortunately, the depth of her feelings for Carter were too treacherous to admit or even to acknowledge.
Suddenly Desiree had to escape. The embrace that had felt so comforting now made her feel captive.
“I want to get up,” she said in a harsh voice.
Carter was already half-asleep. “What? What’s going on?” He was irritable at being woken. “Lie down.”
“I’m going back to my own room.”
He came fully awake and stared into her eyes. She knew the fear was back, but couldn’t explain that this was different from her fear of physical harm. Burley had only beaten and terrified and humiliated her. She had given Carter the power to destroy her heart and soul.
“I need to be alone,” she offered by way of explanation.
Carter’s lips curled in disgust. “I’m not going to turn into some kind of beast in the middle of the night. But if you want to go, go.”
Desiree yanked on a flannel shirt that Carter had left tossed over a ladderback chair and fled the room.
Carter slumped back against the pillow, then smacked it with his fist. All the love he would have given to Jeanine he had bequeathed to the woman he had lain with tonight. The emotions he had experienced as Desiree climaxed beneath him were too dangerous to explore. He hadn’t been ready to let her go when she abandoned him. He felt…a loss. But what could he have done to stop her? After all, it wasn’t as though they were in love. They were only married lovers.
He reached over to turn out the light. He hoped she spent a miserable night alone. He hoped she tossed and turned the way he was sure he would himself. He hoped she had bags under her eyes in the morning the size of suitcases. He hoped—
Desiree screamed. “Carter! Come Quick!”
Carter’s blood ran cold at the terror in her voice. A second later he was on his way to her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
CARTER GRABBED A pair of jeans, stuck his legs in them and dragged them on as he headed on the run toward Desiree. He found her standing in the doorway to her room, her eyes so wide he could see the whites of them, the back of her hand across her mouth to stifle the awful, tearing sobs that erupted from her throat.
“Desiree, are you all right? Are you hurt? What happened?”
At the sound o
f his voice she turned and flung herself into his arms, which tightened around her. Over the top of her head he had a view of the chaos in her bedroom.
It had been ransacked. There wasn’t an object left upright or unbroken. There were feathers everywhere from the destruction of the pillows, and even her mattress had been slashed. This wasn’t the work of a thief. It was the devastation of a psychopath.
“This is crazy,” Carter muttered. “Why so much destruction? And why only your bedroom?”
Desiree sobbed harder in his arms. He felt a fierce need to protect her, to crush the fiend who had threatened the woman he held so tightly.
“I’ll call the police.”
She grabbed him around the neck. “No!”
“Why not? They’ll want to investigate. Anybody crazy enough to do something like this belongs in a cage where he can’t hurt people. They’ll want to find him fast.”
Desiree dragged herself free of his embrace. “I know who did this,” she said. “But it won’t do any good to confront him. He’ll just deny everything. Unless I can catch him in the act, they can’t do a thing. I have to have evidence,” she said bitterly, “before they’ll interfere.”
Carter felt his stomach turn over. “Who did this, Desiree?”
Her shoulders slumped, and she turned to lean her forehead against the cool wood framing the door. “He said he would come back.”
“Who said he would come back?” Carter demanded, his voice laced with the irritation he was feeling at his helplessness.
“Burley Kelton.” Desiree turned to look Carter in the eye. “My former husband. I should have told you,” she said in an anguished voice. “He’s been in prison for attempting to murder me, but he got out today. He warned me he was coming back. I hoped—”
“You hoped that if you had a husband he would keep his distance,” Carter said in a voice like a rusty gate.
What a fool he had been! She had used him.
And weren’t you using her to get the roots you wanted?
That was different.
How? You both wanted something from each other. So she wasn’t totally honest about her motives. Have you been totally honest with her?
The truth was, he had married for his own reasons, not thinking much about hers. The band around his chest loosened enough that he could breathe again.
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