by Diana Palmer
He straddled her hips arrogantly, watching her watch him with wide, almost frightened eyes.
“You can take me, if that’s what you’re frightened of,” he said gently, levering down so that his body slowly overwhelmed hers, his elbows catching his weight. “A woman’s body is a miracle,” he whispered at her lips. “Elastic and soft and vibrant with life.” His mouth brushed hers in tender little contacts that aroused like wildfire while his hands smoothed down her body, his thumbs hard on her belly, rough, making some unbelievable sensations kindle with each long pass of his hands. She shivered under his warm mouth, her nudity and his maleness almost forgotten until his knee began to ease between her long legs.
“Shhh,” he whispered when she tensed. “Don’t do that. I want you just as badly, but if you tense up, it’s going to hurt.”
She swallowed. It would hurt anyway, but it was too late to tell him that, because his hips were already probing delicately at hers.
He kissed her face with trembling, aching tenderness, while his lean hands gently positioned her hips. “One, long, sweet joining,” he whispered into her open mouth. “That’s what I want first, before I even begin to love you.” His thumbs pressed into her belly again, making her shiver. He smiled tenderly against her lips. “Now lift up against me, very, very slowly,” he whispered. He lifted his eyes to watch. He’d never wanted to watch before, but this was like no other time in his life. Her eyes were wide, almost frightened. “Shhh,” he breathed, achingly tender as he began the slow, downward movement of his body. “Shhh. Be one with me, now,” he whispered. She tensed and he smiled, sliding one hand between them to gently caress her flat belly. “Yes, just relax and let it happen. Don’t close your eyes,” he said huskily. “Watch me. Let me watch you. I want...to see you...take me!”
His teeth ground together and Allison was so shocked by what he was saying and doing that she forgot to be afraid. His powerful body was tanned all over, except for that pale strip across his lean hips, and she saw his eyes dilate, his teeth clench, his face contort with wonder. She could feel the shudder that went through him, she could actually see him lose control.
It was what made it bearable when he suddenly cried out and pushed into her body with helpless, driving urgency. The pain was scalding, like being torn with a hot knife, and she both stiffened and dug her fingers into his arms, weeping suddenly as he hurt her.
But she was too ready for him for it to last long. Gene felt the barrier give, somewhere in the back of his mind, although it didn’t register through the blinding throb of pleasure that ran down his backbone and sent him wild in her arms. He buffeted her with a total, absolute loss of control, borne of too many months of abstinence and his raging hunger for her.
Allison wept silently for her lack of resistance. He was going to hate her. He couldn’t not know what she was, now.
Seconds later, he stiffened and cried out, and Allison watched his corded torso lift as his hips enforced their mastery of her, watched his face contort in the unmistakable mask of fulfillment. His voice throbbed hoarsely as he cried her name once, twice, and then like a prayer, his body convulsed in a red fever of blinding ecstasy.
It hadn’t hurt as much as she thought it would. He was lying on her heavily now, his body drenched in sweat, his mouth against her bare shoulder. Still flushing from what she’d seen, she stroked his damp, black hair absently, her eyes wide and shocked as she stared at the rough wood of the ceiling. Despite everything it was so sweet to lie and hold him like this, so close that they were still one person. The embarrassment and pain and shame would follow, she knew, and would be almost unbearable. But for these few seconds, he was helpless and in need of comfort, and she held him to her with tender generosity, her eyes closing as she whispered her love for him silently, without a sound.
Gene got his breath back and lifted his head to look at Allison. Her eyes opened slowly and she blushed. There was something in those soft hazel eyes that hurt him. He’d failed her all the way around.
He accepted the knowledge with shame and a kind of helpless pleasure as his eyes slid down to her breasts, still hard-tipped because he hadn’t satisfied her. He would have been more than willing to do that, because she’d given him heaven. But it would be too soon for her, after the ordeal of her first time. First time. He shivered. A virgin. He was her first man.
The thought humbled him. He bent and started to kiss her soft mouth, but she turned her head, and then he saw it. The shame. The fear. He took a sharp breath and rolled away from her, standing up to dress quietly, with cold efficiency. It had never been like that, he thought bitterly; it had never been so urgent that he couldn’t wait for his partner. He couldn’t even blame the beer, because he hadn’t had that much. And he knew damned well he hadn’t satisfied Allison. There hadn’t been time. Besides that, he thought, horrified as he turned to look at her, she’d been unnaturally tight and afraid and now he knew that he must have hurt her terribly. They said no man could tell, but even without glancing at that faint stain on the coverlet, he knew. Somehow, he thought he’d known from the beginning. And if his own guilt wasn’t enough, she wouldn’t even look at him. She made him feel like less than a man.
He looked away while she put on her own clothes with trembling hands. When he turned again, she was sitting on the edge of the bed with her hands folded on her thighs, her eyes downcast, her thin body trembling.
The most beautiful experience of his life, and he’d cost her not only her chastity but any pleasure she might have had, all because he’d been selfish. She looked as if what she’d done was some unforgivable sin to boot. Her downcast, defeated expression made him hurt. His guilt and self-contempt spurred his temper, and he exploded with rage.
He reached out and grabbed her arms, jerking her roughly to her feet. “Damn you,” he said icily, shaking her none too gently. His blazing eyes made her flinch. “You lied to me! You told me you were experienced, when all the time you were a virgin!”
She all but cringed, closing her eyes. Neither of them saw or heard the shadowy figure on horseback who’d heard that furious accusation. The rider moved a little closer and spotted them through the window, a sarcastic smile on his mouth. He didn’t hesitate. He abruptly turned his mount and stealthily rode away.
“Why did you do it?” Gene was demanding.
“I wanted to get to know you,” she said dully.
“Well, you did, didn’t you?” he asked with deliberate cruelty, and a meaningful glance at the stain on the coverlet.
Her eyes dropped on a hurting moan. Tears were rolling down her cheeks without a sound. She stared at his throat, watching the pulse throb there. She deserved the anger, so she didn’t fight it. He was right. She’d lied and let him think she was experienced and because of it, he hadn’t felt any need to hold back physically. Now he’d seduced her and she only had herself to blame. Worse than that, she hadn’t taken any precautions or asked him to. One time might not be anything to worry about, of course, but there were no guarantees. And she still had to live with her guilt and shame, with her conscience.
He let go of her abruptly, savagely ashamed of his own uncharacteristic behavior. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to look at her again without hating himself.
Allison, of course, didn’t realize that his anger was directed at himself, not at her. She thought he surely must hate her now, and she couldn’t bear to meet his eyes.
He noticed, with bitter pain. “We’d better go,” he said coldly.
He turned out the light and jerked open the door, helping her inside the Jeep with icy courtesy before he went back to lock the cabin. He got into the Jeep without a single word, and that was how he drove home.
When he pulled up at the Manleys’ house, she got out without assistance, clutching her purse, and she didn’t say anything or look back as she went up onto the porch. Shades of Gene Nelson himself, she thought with almost hysterical hu
mor. Wasn’t he the one who never looked back?
But apparently he wasn’t going to let her get away with it that easily. He went with her, staying her hand as she started to unlock the door.
“Are you all right?” he asked tersely, forcing the words out.
“Yes.” She didn’t look up. Her soul was tarnished.
He took off his Stetson and ran a hand through his hair. “Allison,” he began hesitantly. “What I said back there...”
“It doesn’t matter,” she replied numbly. “I have to go in now. I’m sorry about...about what happened. I’ve never had alcohol before.”
“And that was why?” he asked with a mocking laugh. “You were drunk?” Deny it, he was thinking. For God’s sake, tell me it was because you loved me!
But the silent plea passed into the night. She unlocked the door. “Goodbye, Gene,” she said gently, even now unable to blame him for something she’d encouraged to happen.
“Isn’t that a little premature?” he asked hesitantly.
“I’ll be leaving in the morning,” she said without looking at him. “You won’t have to worry that I’ll...be like Dale and hound you...” Her voice broke and she got inside fast, closing and locking the door behind her.
Gene stood staring at the closed door for a long moment. He felt empty and alone and deeply ashamed. What had possessed him to attack her, as if the whole thing was her fault? She was a gentle woman, with a soft heart and a heavy conscience, and it bothered him that she’d looked so torn when he let her go. She talked about religion a lot and church, and he wondered if she believed sleeping around was a mortal sin. It amazed him that he hadn’t seen through the act, that he’d really believed she was experienced, when everything pointed the other way. If he’d kept his head, he’d have known in time that she was innocent, and he could have stopped. But he didn’t know, and he hadn’t been rational enough to control his raging desire. A desire that he still felt, to a frightening degree. Allison. He felt her loss to his very soul. In a few days she’d become an integral part of his life, his thoughts. He wasn’t sure if he could go on living when she left Pryor. Could half a man live?
He turned and went back to the Jeep, cursing himself all the way. She’d leave and he’d never have the opportunity to apologize. Not that she was completely blameless, he told himself. It hadn’t been all his fault. But what had motivated her? Had it been desire? Loneliness? Curiosity? Or had there been some feeling in her for him? She was a virgin and she’d given herself. Would she really have done that, being the kind of person she was, unless she cared deeply? His heart leaped at the thought of Allison loving him.
Of course, she was twenty-five and modern, he reminded himself grimly. Maybe she was just tired of being a virgin. He didn’t like to consider that last possibility. And even if she had begun to care about him, she surely wouldn’t now. His cruelty would have shown her how fruitless that would be. He climbed into the Jeep, started the engine, threw the car in gear and pulled out of the yard. This time he stopped the car, and he looked back. It was the first time in his life that he ever had. But darkened windows were all that met his hungry gaze. After a moment, he pulled the Jeep back onto the road and drove home.
Inside the house, Allison had made it to her room without being seen by Winnie. She took a shower, with water as hot as she could stand it, to wash away the scent and feel of Gene Nelson. She washed her hair as well. Her body felt bruised and torn, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell Winnie what had happened. She was going to have to invent an argument or something to explain her sudden departure. But whatever happened, she couldn’t stay here any longer. Even the horror of the past few weeks and the fear of being hounded by the media were preferable to ever having to see Gene again. He hated her. She’d made him hate her by lying to him. He must feel terrible now, too, knowing the truth about her. He’d said he didn’t play around with virgins, and she’d made a liar out of him.
She lay down, but she didn’t sleep. Her mind went over and over that painful episode in the line cabin until she was utterly sick. The worst of it was that Gene was right. It was her fault. She’d ignored Winnie’s warnings about Gene and the danger of physical attraction. Now she understood, too late, what it was all about. She’d never dreamed that she could be so hungry for a man that principles and morals could be totally forgotten. Now she knew. She wondered if she’d ever be able to forget what she’d done. Loving him didn’t seem to excuse her behavior, or justify her submission anymore.
She got up before daylight and packed. The phone rang long before she dressed and went downstairs, but apparently it wasn’t for her, because she wasn’t disturbed.
She put her hair up in a bun and dressed in her sedate gray dress with matching high heels for the trip to Arizona. With a glance at her too-pale face in the mirror, she went in to breakfast and pasted a smile on her lips.
But there was no one there. She searched the house and found a scribbled note from Winnie. “Gone to hospital,” she read. “Dwight hurt in wreck.”
She caught her breath. Poor Winnie! And poor Dwight! She picked up the phone and called the hospital immediately, having found the number in the telephone directory.
She got the floor nurse on Dwight’s ward and talked to her. After introducing herself, she explained about Dwight and Winnie and the nurse was sympathetic enough to tell her what had happened. When she hung up, she knew it was going to be impossible for her to leave. Dwight was in intensive care and he might die. She was trapped. She couldn’t leave Winnie at a time like this, even if it meant having to endure Gene’s hatred in the process.
Chapter Eight
Winne came home at lunch, red-eyed and wilted, supported by her worried mother.
“Oh, Winnie, I’m so sorry,” Allison said, hugging her friend warmly. “Is there any change?”
“Not yet.” Winnie wept. “Allie, I can’t bear to lose him! I can’t!”
“Head injuries are tricky,” Allison said quietly. “He’s in a coma, but that doesn’t mean he won’t come out of it. I’ve seen some near-fatal injuries that recovered fully. Give it time.”
“I’ll go mad!” the blonde wailed.
Allison hugged her again. “No, you won’t. Come on, I’ve made lunch. I’ll bet you’re both starved.”
“I certainly am,” Mrs. Manley said gently. She smiled at Allison. “Bless you for thinking of food. We really hadn’t.”
“I can understand why. What happened?”
“Nobody knows. The car he was driving went down a ravine. They only found him early this morning. Gene and Marie are at the hospital. Gene looks really bad,” Winnie said.
Allison averted her face before anyone could see that she did, too, and make any embarrassing connections. “I’ll pour the coffee,” she said.
She didn’t want to go to the hospital with them, but Winnie pleaded, so she did.
When they walked into the waiting room, only Marie was there, and Allison thanked her lucky stars. She hugged Marie and murmured all the comforting things she could think of. Then she went in search of the floor nurse she’d talked to on the phone, while Winnie and Mrs. Manley sat with Marie.
Tina Gates was in charge of the intensive care unit, a twenty-two-year veteran of nursing arts. She welcomed Allison and showed her through the ward, pausing at Dwight’s bed.
“He’s bad,” she told Allison. “But he’s a fighter, like the rest of his family, and strong-willed. I think he’ll come out of it.”
“I hope so,” Allison said gently, staring at Dwight’s unnaturally pale face. “My best friend loves him very much.”
“Sometimes love is what it takes.” She continued the tour, and they came back to Dwight’s cubicle when they finished. “If you ever want a job, we’ve got a place for you,” she told Allison. “Help is hard to get out here, and you’re more qualified than even I am. I never had the opportunity to go on and g
et my degree in nursing arts.”
“I was lucky,” Allison said. “My parents sacrificed a lot for my education. It’s important work, and I love it. I don’t know that I could get used to the routine in a hospital. I’m too accustomed to primitive conditions. But I appreciate the offer, all the same.”
“I’ll repeat it at intervals, if you promise to consider it,” Tina promised, smiling. “This is pretty country, and there are some nice folks here. You might like it.”
“I already do. But I made a promise to my parents that I’d carry on the work they did,” Allison said finally. “I don’t like to break promises.”
“Actually, neither do...look!”
Tina went quickly to Dwight’s side and watched him move restlessly. His eyes opened and he groaned.
“Head...hurts,” he mumbled.
“Hallelujah!” Tina grinned. “If your head hurts, Mr. Nelson, it means you’re alive. I’ll get Dr. Jackson right now!”
“I’ll go and tell Winnie. Dwight, I’m glad you’re back with us,” she said gently, touching his arm where the IV was attached. “They’ll give you something for the pain. Just try to relax and don’t move around too much.”
He looked up at her, licking dry lips. “Gene?” he whispered.
Her face closed up. “Do you want to see him?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll try to find him. Rest, now.” She patted his hand and walked out, all nerves.
Gene was in the waiting room when she came out. He stiffened as she approached, but Allison pretended not to notice. After the night before, it was all she could do to stay in the same room with him without breaking down and crying.
“He’s out of the coma,” she said, talking to Winnie and Marie. “They’re getting the doctor. I think he’ll be all right.”
