The Enemy's Daughter

by Anne Marie Winston

  For a long moment, he simply held her there, clamped tightly to him with his erection firmly sandwiched between them.

  She squirmed against him a little and his breath caught on a rush of ecstasy. “You feel so good,” he said hoarsely.

  “So do you.” Her voice was little more than a whisper. He felt her hand slide down his side and palm his buttock.

  “Touch me,” he said, drawing back a little. He tugged at her wrist until she let him draw her hand between their bodies. “Feel what you do to me.” She was still for a long moment, her hand unmoving in his. Then, slowly, her fingers uncurled and he shuddered as he felt her reaching out. As she touched him, his breath literally stopped.

  And then she was exploring him with a light, tentative touch that brought the blood rushing to his head and tripled his heart rate as he fought to control his response. He let her explore, let her brush the length of him and forced himself to stillness even when her hand drifted lower to cup the sensitive flesh there. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He reached down and wrapped his fingers around hers, guiding her into a grip and rhythm that pleased him, groaning aloud when she eagerly picked up the motions on her own. An electric sizzle shivered down his spine and abruptly he grabbed her wrist before he came apart right there in her hand.

  “Sweetheart,” he said, even as his hips involuntarily arched forward, thrusting against her hip, “you have to stop that.”

  She withdrew her hand immediately and as he looked at her lowered eyelids, he realized she was embarrassed. “I didn’t mean you’re doing anything wrong,” he elaborated. “But I want you so badly that I don’t trust myself to be able to hang on to my control.” He lifted a hand and tipped her chin up with one finger until she looked at him. “I want this to be perfect for you, too,” he said.

  “Oh.” Her voice was faint. She cleared her throat. “That’s not very likely, actually. I haven’t, ah, haven’t done this before.”

  It took a moment for the meaning of her prim words to register. “You haven’t…?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  He was stunned. He blurted out the first thing that crossed his mind. “We can’t do this.” Agitated beyond measure, he haphazardly pulled his robe around her before rolling away and rising, keeping his back to her as he tugged his briefs over his aching flesh and fastening his pants with difficulty.

  “Adam?” Her voice sounded hesitant, unsure.

  “Get up,” he said. He knew his voice sounded harsh but he was waging an internal battle that demanded all his willpower. Half of him, the noble, courteous half, told him he couldn’t take her virginity, especially in a rushed act on the floor of his library. The other half was wildly aroused by the thought that she was willing to give herself to him, that she thought he was special enough to share such a gift—and that part wasn’t easily dissuaded from finishing what they’d started.

  He heard a rustle as she got to her feet unassisted and remorse shot through him. Relief, too. If she was upright, his nobler instincts were much more likely to triumph than if she’d continued to lie there waiting for him.

  Then he heard another sound. A sniff. “I’d better go,” she said in a subdued tone. Alarm shot through him and he whipped around.

  “Wait!” he said, rushing across the room. She was nearly at the door and he grabbed her arm, swinging her to face him. She wouldn’t meet his eyes but a tear escaped even as he watched, trickling down over the smooth peach of her complexion. “Oh, baby,” he said, “don’t. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

  “It’s all right,” she said, drawing in a deep breath that made her chest rise and fall and nearly shot his good intentions to hell. “I understand.”

  “No,” he said firmly. “You do not.” He drew her to him, ignoring the resistance that stiffened her limbs, and slid his arms around her. “Virginity is a very special thing,” he told her bent head. “I’m honored that you want me to be the man you share this moment with, but it isn’t something that should be rushed, or made light of.”

  Her head came up and she eyed him cautiously. “I thought…I thought you didn’t want me anymore,” she whispered.

  An incredulous laugh exploded from him. “Selene,” he said, drawing her flush against him until she couldn’t possibly miss the proof of his desire for her, “does this feel like a man who doesn’t want you?”

  She sniffed and smiled, shaking her head. “No,” she said. Her gaze grew mischievous and she slowly rubbed herself back and forth over him until he closed his eyes and groaned softly in frustration.

  “You’re making me crazy,” he said. He put a hand beneath her thigh and lifted one leg until she caught on and wrapped it around his hip. The position opened her intimately to him, and he tugged the robe out of the way until all that separated them were a few layers of fabric. Her panties were small and satiny and already wet when he slipped an exploratory thumb over the sensitive flesh between her legs.

  Selene shuddered and her head fell back as if it were too heavy for the fragile stalk of her slender neck. “I thought you didn’t want to do this.”

  “Now,” he clarified, dropping his head and nuzzling the side of her neck as he reluctantly withdrew his hand. “We’re not doing this now. I never said I don’t want you. But if I’m going to make love to you for the first time in your life, I’m going to do it with plenty of time to get it right.”

  Before he could make a liar of himself, he forced his hands away from the temptations of her body and set her from him, fisting his hands in the lapels of the robe and holding it closed. “Go get dressed. I’m taking you home before I change my mind and keep you here all night.”

  Selene lifted her hands and placed them over his, and when she raised her eyes to his he read indecision, need and more in their emerald depths. “You have no idea how badly I wish that were possible,” she said softly. Then she lifted herself on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.

  As she turned and left the room, he let the fabric of the robe slide slowly through his fingers until she was gone and he stood alone. There weren’t even two months left until this election, he told himself. Then they could be together as much as they wanted.

  You could marry her, said a little voice in his head. He bent and picked up the book he had told her she could borrow, but his mind wasn’t on what he was doing.

  “I just might,” he said aloud, slowly. “I just might do that.”

  Six

  Adam left a message on her voice mail the next morning, telling her he’d like to have dinner with her that evening. Selene called him back on his office line the moment her father left the house for a brunch appointment. When his smooth, deep voice answered “Hello?”, she swallowed through a throat suddenly so dry she wouldn’t have been able to spit if she’d needed to.

  “A-Adam?”

  “Selene.” His voice dropped to an even lower register, growing husky and intimate. “I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too,” she said honestly.

  “Can you make dinner tonight? We need to talk.”

  “We talked all day yesterday,” she said automatically.

  “Not all day,” he said, and she could hear the humor in his tone.

  She blushed, even though he couldn’t see her. Thank God. “I’m not sure I can get away tonight,” she said regretfully. “Father might get suspicious. I’ve hardly been home lately.” Not that he would miss her presence at the dinner table. On the rare occasions that they ate at home together, he usually had the television on and his eyes glued to the news.

  “All right,” he said. “I didn’t want to do this over the phone, but…I’ve been thinking about what you told me last night.”

  She knew, from the tone of his voice, he meant about her lack of experience. “Yes?” she managed. “Thinking what?”

  “Your first time,” he said, “should be special. Do you trust me to make it special for you?”

  “Of course.” She didn’t even have to think about it. “I would
trust you with anything.”

  She could hear the smile in his voice when he said. “Good. Can you find a way to get away for the night on Friday evening?”

  “You mean…all night?”

  “All night,” he confirmed. “We’re going to take our time, not rush anything.” He paused. “I want to wake up with you in a bed in the morning.”

  Her body tightened with anticipation even as her heart melted. “I’d like that,” she whispered.

  “So can you get away?”

  She thought about it. “I don’t see why not. But I can’t go far.”

  “I’m going to take you further than you’ve ever been before,” he promised her, and once again she felt a hot blush wash over her from head to toe. He chuckled. “Nothing to say?”

  She cleared her throat. “Not on the phone.”

  He laughed even harder. But his voice dropped to a rough whisper when he spoke. “I can’t wait to get you in my arms again.”

  “I can’t wait to be in your arms again,” she told him. “Where shall we meet?”

  He gave her the address of a restaurant in the Historic District. “I’ll meet you outside and we’ll stow your bag in the car before dinner. I’m going to make reservations at a restored inn close by and we’ll go there after dinner.”

  “We’re not going to your house?” she asked, startled.

  “No. This is going to be special. I’m hoping my home will be your home one day and that wouldn’t exactly make it memorable, would it?”

  Silence fell.

  Had he really said what she thought he’d said? Meant what she thought he’d meant? “Adam—”

  “Selene—”

  They both spoke at the same moment.

  “You first,” she said promptly.

  “All right.” He spoke slowly, as if he were thinking about what to say. “I apologize for rushing you. I know you don’t want to have lengthy discussions about the future until the campaign ends.”

  “I may have changed my mind,” she said faintly. Was he thinking of marriage?

  He chuckled again, and the intensity of the moment lightened. “If you mean that, we’ll talk on Friday night. Among other things.”

  The sensual intent was back in his tone and her pulse hammered with excitement. “Friday night,” she said. “Is that a promise?”

  “I promise,” he said. “We’re both going to remember Friday evening for a long, long time.”

  Adam fumbled the phone back onto the cradle absently, imagining the blush that he was sure had crept into Selene’s cheeks. Did she blush like that all over? Soon, he told himself. Soon you’ll know. It was amazing that just the sound of her voice could make him feel so stupidly happy.

  A knock on his office door interrupted his reverie. “Come in.”

  “Hey.” His brother Ian stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. He stopped halfway across the room, eyeing Adam speculatively. “What’s that sappy expression mean?” His hazel eyes sharpened. “You’ve met someone!”

  Adam shot him a wry look. “Is it that obvious?”

  Ian laughed. “To those of us who’ve been there, yes.” He settled into one of the chairs opposite Adam’s desk, crossing one leg over the other. “Spill it.”

  Adam shrugged. “Yes, I’ve met someone.” He hesitated. “I think I love her.”

  Ian’s eyebrows rose. “Whoa. This is fast.”

  “How long did you know Katie before you realized she was the one?”

  His brother grinned. “Good point.” He studied Adam speculatively. “You trust her?”

  Ian knew how badly Adam had been hurt by Angela’s callous attitude all those years ago. “I do.” He sought for words to explain. “She’s different. She’s interested in the things I am. She likes talking about history and ghosts. She likes my home. She doesn’t need to be escorted to the most exclusive party in town every night.”

  “Do I know this lady who’s captured your affections?”

  Adam hesitated. God, he wanted so badly to talk about Selene, to share the perfect woman he’d met with everyone he knew! “You know her family,” he hedged.

  Ian’s brows drew together. “Why do I think there’s a problem in that statement somewhere?”

  “Because there is.” Adam couldn’t contain himself anymore. “Her name is Selene Van Gelder.”

  Ian’s eyes snapped wide. “John’s daughter? The one who just came back from Europe a couple of months ago?” When Adam nodded, he whistled. “Man, do you know how to find trouble.”

  Adam’s lips curved ruefully. “It could be easier.”

  “But you think she’s ‘the one’?”

  “I know she’s the one,” Adam corrected. “I’ve known it since the night we met.”

  “Which was when? And where? I wouldn’t have thought it likely that you two would be running in the same social circles. Her old man thinks running for office is a blood sport.”

  “She was at the Twin Oaks fund-raiser near the end of July.”

  Ian’s brow wrinkled. “At a Danforth campaign fundraiser? That’s weird.”

  Adam nodded. For the first time since the night they’d met, he wondered what she had been doing at a fundraiser for her father’s opponent. Everyone knew John Van Gelder despised Abe Danforth way out of proportion to the elected office they both were hoping to win. “Yeah,” he said, “but she didn’t stay long. And it wasn’t until a few weeks ago that she’d consider going out with me.”

  “So all this has happened in a matter of weeks.”

  “You didn’t know Katie any longer than that.” Adam felt unaccountably defensive.

  “No, I didn’t,” Ian admitted. “But her last name wasn’t Van Gelder, either.” He hesitated. “So you’re pretty serious about Selene?”

  Adam nodded. “I was thinking of asking her to marry me.” At the look on Ian’s face, he quickly added, “Oh, she won’t even introduce me to her father until after this campaign is over, so if she says yes, it’ll be just between us for a while.”

  “I don’t know whether to wish you luck or tell you you’re insane,” Ian said wryly. “But good luck, anyway.”

  Adam’s office assistant buzzed him, and he held up a hand to his brother. “Excuse me for a sec.”

  “Jake’s on line two,” the young man said. “He says there’s a management problem at D&D’s in Atlanta.”

  Ian stood. “I’ll get out of your hair.” He turned, then looked back over his shoulder. “Good luck with your girl.”

  “Wait,” Adam said. “What did you come in here for?”

  Ian waved a hand dismissively. “Nothing major. I’ll catch you later.”

  Adam picked up the phone, but his attention was still on his eldest sibling as the door closed. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Ian had been going to tell him something important, and he wished he’d been more attentive. He knew Ian was still having trouble with their coffee bean suppliers—was there something more he hadn’t told Adam?

  By the time the taxi arrived to take her to the restaurant where she was meeting Adam on Friday evening, Selene was a nervous wreck. While her father had been preoccupied with the headlines yesterday morning, she had casually mentioned that she would be going away. As she’d anticipated, he’d barely acknowledged her. Surprisingly, his coolness didn’t wound her as it once had.

  Maybe that was because of Adam, she thought. Now that she had him, her father’s approval didn’t seem so important anymore. Had she simply been looking for love all these years?

  Love. Oh, she had to admit it. She loved Adam Danforth. As unsuitable as his name would make him to her father, it was too late to turn back, to stop the feelings from growing into an entire body-filling feeling that made her so happy she almost thought her skin wasn’t strong enough to contain it. She loved him. But she couldn’t tell him yet. It wouldn’t be fair until after the election.

  As she was heading out the door with her overnight bag, a voice behind her demanded, “Where are you going?�
�

  Selene jumped and turned around. “I told you, Father,” she said in the calmest voice she could manage. “I was invited to spend the night with a friend.” She couldn’t quite meet her father’s eyes, and her chest felt as if there was a hundred-pound weight resting directly on it. Had he somehow guessed what she was doing? She stifled an urge to laugh hysterically as she realized that if he knew who she planned to do it with, he’d be locking her in her room this very minute.

  “Hunh.” Her father made a dismissive gesture with one hand. “I forgot. Have a good time.”

  “I will.” Understatement of the decade! She turned and slipped through the door before he could say anything else to her, before he could read the guilt on her face.

  John Van Gelder watched his daughter climb into the taxi to meet her girlfriend, his face taut with displeasure as he realized he’d forgotten to ask her about her schedule for next week. He hadn’t even gotten the friend’s name, so he couldn’t call her. And she probably had her cell phone with her, but without her planner, which was probably on her desk, he doubted she’d be able to answer him definitely. Besides, he knew from experience that she didn’t have the phone turned on much of the time, anyway.

  Oh, well, no matter. He could ask her tomorrow. Still, it irritated him that now he wouldn’t be able to confirm his plans to have her attend several campaign events until she returned. Perhaps he should take a look at her calendar. Leave her a note asking her to reserve the dates he had in mind. Turning, he headed for the wide staircase.

  A few moments later, he entered the small sitting room attached to his daughter’s bedroom. Her delicate writing desk stood before one light-flooded window, computer and planner in plain view. He crossed the room and sank into the chair before the desk, but before he could check the dates in question, a beautiful coffee table book laid to one side caught his eye.