The weekend tourists left and the town and beach were quiet once again. Casey was walking several miles a day by the middle of the week. Her self-esteem rose as the exercise and good food strengthened her body. She would survive this traumatic experience just as she and her mother had survived when Eddie left them and as she had survived her mother’s death when she was a confused teenager.
On Friday she drove into town to stock up on groceries for the weekend. She bought a new novel by her favorite author and several magazines. As she watched the stores opening for the weekenders she felt increasingly confident that she could make a custom-made clothing shop pay off.
In the evening after showering and preparing for bed, she slid her long slim body between the sheets and opened her new novel.
She was so engrossed in the story that the sound of a sharp rap on the door startled her badly. She sat up in bed as the rap came again.
“Yes. Who is it?” she called and reached for the robe on the end of the bed.
“Phone call.” The voice was low and muffled and she wasn’t sure she’d heard those words.
Casey belted her robe and glanced in the mirror to pull her bangs down over her forehead and to make sure her ear was covered.
“Did you say phone call?”
“Yes’m.”
Something terrible must have happened for Judy to be calling at this time of night, she thought wildly and hurried to unbolt the door. She flung it open and the back of her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes became enormous, and a cold shiver crept down her spine.
Dan stood on widespread legs, those long, muscular legs encased in faded “jeans, his hands jammed in the pockets of a worn denim jacket. His dark eyes held hers and from his expression she thought he might grab her and shake her. But when he spoke, his voice was even, almost impersonal.
“I just moved in next door and I’d like to borrow a cup of sugar.”
Five
“Dan,” Casey whispered, staring wide-eyed up into his face.
“Casey, my darling.” There was a curiously soothing quality in his words, as if he were calming her, quieting her the way he had done on the night she woke with her eyes bandaged.
Casey shook her head. “What are you doing here?”
He came into the room, closed the door, and leaned against it. “I’ve come to get my Guinevere,” he said simply.
“You’ve got to be out of your mind.”
“You’re repeating yourself, sweetheart. You’ve told me that before.”
“Dan, listen to me,” she pleaded, gazing up at him with anxious determination. “I’ve got enough worries in my life right now, trying to get my strength back, finding a job, starting a new life, without interference from you.” She was highly conscious of his physical strength and the patience in his eyes as they swept over her. “I have my life planned, Dan, and you’re not part of it.”
He pushed himself away from the door. It hardly seemed that he had moved, but there he was looming over her. He appeared to be larger, more rugged, almost primitive.
“What makes you so sure of that?” he asked with a hint of a smile.
“I have my own life to live and it would never in a hundred years be compatible with yours.” He laughed and she wanted to hit him. “Stop laughing,” she snapped. Her eyes searched his face in puzzlement. “Why? Why are you pursuing this relationship? You hardly know me!”
“Hardly know you?” He looked thoughtful for a moment while his fingers came up and fingered a strand of her hair. “It’s true that I haven’t known you for a long time. But it’s been long enough for me to know that you’re intelligent, witty, have a capricious personality, and that I would never be bored with you in a million years.” His dark eyes lit up with mischievous delight. “I found myself attuned to you right from the start. Does that sound as if I hardly know you?”
Casey’s features took on a look of carved stone, her clear tawny-gold eyes grew cold and unseeing. “If you’re looking for a new partner for an interlude of sexual fun and games, forget it. It’s not my style.”
His long fingers curved around her chin, forcing her to face him. “Believe me, Casey. An ‘interlude’ with you never crossed my mind.” His hands moved lightly over her shoulders. “I don’t know where to touch you.” He groaned. “And God knows, I want to!” He watched her face closely to see if she winced when his hands moved down her back.
Casey watched his mouth moving toward hers and instinctively splayed her fingers against his chest. Then his mouth deliberately took slow, sensual possession of hers and her lips parted invitingly beneath his, as if she had no control over them. She inhaled the heady fragrance of his aftershave and her tongue tasted the fresh flavor of his mouth. His breathing was ragged and she could feel the pounding of his heart even though he was holding her lightly against him. His hands moved down her back and over her hips, caressing, while his mouth pressed against her with a hungry urgency. Her rapidly disintegrating common sense told her she was treading on dangerous ground and had better act while she could.
“Dan . . . please,” she managed thickly. Then as his hand moved from the nape of her neck to push the hair back from her face, she uttered a sharp, “Don’t do that!” She jerked herself away from him and turned her back. Nervous hands smoothed the hair around her face.
He was behind her, close, his hands on her upper arms. “Casey,” he said in a voice that rasped with emotion. “Surely you know I didn’t follow you here for a one night stand.” He pressed his cheek against her smooth one. She could hear the scrape of his whiskers on her cheek and the pounding of his heart against her back. His mouth traced a pattern along her jaw line. “I want you to be well and strong when I make love to you. I don’t think 111 always be gentle, my Guinevere.”
“Please stop calling me that.” A distant part of Casey’s mind was aware that she was succumbing to an uncontrollable desire to lean back against him, to let his strength support her. “You know there was no Camelot, no Guinevere,” she said desperately, striving to put some reality into the situation.
“Who says there wasn’t a Camelot? There was a Sir Lancelot and there was a Guinevere, just like there’s a Santa Claus and a tooth fairy if we believe it.” His hands turned her to face him. “Don’t be frightened by this,” he murmured. “It’s new to me, too. Until a few short weeks ago, I never expected to become involved with anyone, to spend all my waking moments thinking about someone. I had to come here to be with you for awhile and find out what it is about you that fascinates me so. It’s as simple as that.” His hands slid to either side of her waist. “Does it hurt you when I hold you here?”
“No,” Casey whispered. “I only have two really sore spots left.”
“Your breast and your ear?” She nodded, her eyes still caught by his. “I’ll be careful of them.” His voice deepened and his dark eyes never left her gold ones until he lowered his head and his mouth claimed hers with a gentle stamp of ownership. Casey stood quietly with her eyes closed. He traced her upper lip with the tip of his tongue before he raised his head to look at her. He took her hands and brought them up to his neck. “Kiss me once, m’lady,” he said huskily, then, “Your hands are cold, get back into bed.”
Casey kissed him gently on the lips, then pulled away to look at him. She wanted to say something that made her action sensible. But the truth was she had done it purely in reaction to his request. You’re making a mistake, her mind screamed. You’re getting in deeper and deeper. Use some common sense and tell him to leave. All you have to do is stay firm, she told herself.
He moved quickly and swung her up in his arms.
“Dan . . .!”
Without a word he carried her to the bed and laid her down. His big hand grasped her bare foot. “Your feet are like ice. Why didn’t you say something?” He rubbed first one foot and then the other between his large palms until she could feel the warmth begin to return.
She lay as if in a trance until he reached up to untie the belt of h
er dressing gown. “No! No ... don’t!” She grabbed at his hands and he straightened and looked down at her.
“I’d never hurt you. You must believe that.” There was a world of feeling in the murmured words and against her will she felt them pull at her heart.
“I ... don’t want it off.”
“Okay,” he said patiently. “But get under the covers.” He picked up the novel and placed it on the table, then pulled the covers up over her. Her eyes widened in alarm when he began to remove his jacket. “I’m starving. I hope you’ve got some food in the refrigerator.” He threw his jacket on the end of the bed and went into the kitchenette. His large body seemed to fill it. “I didn’t have time to stop if I was going to find this place before dark,” he went on with great calm. He brought out the cheese, bread, and some eggs and placed them on the counter. “Ill have a cheese omelet. Want one?” He bent to bring a pan from beneath the counter and didn’t see the negative shake of her head. “Just what I need. Nothing cooks an omelet like an iron skillet. What? No toaster? Oh, well, I like my bread buttered and put under the broiler just as well. A little more trouble, though. But remember that.”
Casey watched him, smiled a little at the careful way he broke the eggs. Then like a thunderbolt it struck her how relaxed she was and how natural it seemed to have him here. She wondered what it was about this man that made her so leery of him, even though he inspired so much confidence. He was no stranger to the stove. She could tell by the way he poured a small amount of oil in the skillet, grasped the handle with a towel and tilted it so the hot oil could slide over the surface.
Later, whistling under his breath, he turned the skillet over a plate and dumped a high, fluffy omelet onto it. He grinned proudly.
“Usually when I try to show off my culinary skills everything goes wrong. This must be my lucky day.” He cut out a wedge, lifted it to a plate, and then walked over to the bed. “Try this, m’lady,” he said with a courtly bow and smiled mischievously. It was impossible for Casey not to respond.
“Aye, m’lord,” she said and lowered her lashes demurely. “If only thy skill with the sword equaled thy skill with the skillet.” She raised laughing eyes to his.
He placed the plate on the bed beside her. “I am also skilled at slapping bottoms of mouthy maidens, m’lady.” He straightened and winked at her. “Should the occasion arise, it would be a most pleasurable task.”
Casey’s laughter broke free of its own accord. The whole idea of them behaving like this without any of the usual undertones of aggression and conflict struck her as ridiculous. It must be the atmosphere in this place, she mused. She didn’t know why, but she felt comfortable and relaxed. In fact she had never felt more safe or more comfortable in her life. It was as if she had been carrying a hollow spot inside of her and suddenly it was filled. She didn’t understand it and didn’t want to analyze it, just enjoy it. She shoved the thought aside. Like Scarlett, she would think about it tomorrow.
“Want more?” Dan sat on the chair beside the bed holding his plate.
“No. I didn’t really want that, but it smelled so good I couldn’t resist. I thought you were going to make toast.”
“I am when I finish this.”
“Why didn’t you make it to eat with the omelet?”
“I eat one thing at a time. When I finish this, 111 make the toast. Do you have any honey?”
“No. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth.”
“I don’t for desserts, but honey’s different. It’s good for you.”
“Are you a health food nut?”
“Uh-huh. So are you.”
“How do you know?”
“Careful deduction, my dear Watson. I saw the fruit, vegetables, nuts, and natural grain cereal in your fridge.”
“Clever.”
“I’m no dummy. Give me your plate and 111 make you some toast.”
“None for me, thanks, but help yourself.”
Later he turned on the small portable TV set, tuned it, and then stretched out on the foot of the bed as if it were his perfect right.
“We’ll watch the news and then I’ll go so you can get a good night’s sleep.” He had washed the dishes and tidied up the kitchen. “Tomorrow we’ll find a meat market and buy a couple of rib eyes and later you’ll dine on a meal fit for a queen.”
Casey swallowed hard, and before thinking too much about it, said, “How long are you staying here?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Are you tired of me already?”
Quite the reverse, she thought. Aloud, she said, “I haven’t thought about it. How did you find me? Judy was the only one who knew where I was and while I didn’t exactly tell her I was hiding, she knew I didn’t want to see anyone.”
“She told me, but don’t be mad at her. I camped on her doorstep and threatened to tell someone named Glen that I was her husband.” He laughed. “She’s a saucy little wench.”
“That was unfair,” Casey said, but smiled.
“It worked. She told me just how to get here, among other things.” He grinned in such a way, she wondered about the other things.
“Has she sublet my apartment?”
“It’s taken care of for six months. By that time you’ll want to use it again. The way the doctor explained it to me, you’ll need a series of operations, but not all of them will require a stay in the hospital.”
They were quiet for a long while. Dan watched the news, but Casey was too preoccupied to pay attention to it. The commentator signed off and the weather report came on. Dan laid his head on his arm and looked up the length of her body to her face. His hand searched and found her foot. She could feel the warmth of his hand through the covering and a small shiver of apprehension traveled the length of her spine.
“How was your trip?” The relief was enormous when the words came out evenly.
“It was going along fine until I called and found out you’d checked out of the hospital.”
“You called from . . . Japan?” she stammered, shocked and slightly elated that he would go to the expense to call her from so very far away.
“Surely you knew I’d call. I called you before when I was in Mexico.” He raised himself up and rested on his bent elbow.
“Mexico?” she echoed.
“The second time I ever called was from Mexico.” He paused. “Why didn’t you wait until I came back to leave the hospital? The few extra days of care would have been good for you.”
She was almost frightened by the quiet strength in his face, but not too frightened to answer back. “I didn’t need your permission to check out of the hospital, and I don’t need you telling me what is good for me.” She braced herself as she saw his face change. It changed, not to anger, but to sheer amusement. Then he burst into hardy laughter. “And that’s another thing about you that irritates me,” she snapped. “You laugh at the most inappropriate times!”
“I can’t wait for my brothers to meet you,” he said, still laughing. He inched his way up the bed until he lay beside her, elbow bent, his cheek resting on his palm. She rolled her head on the pillow to look at him. The dark eyes and sensuous mouth were far too close.
“I doubt very much if that will ever happen.” She wanted to say “Get off my bed,” but that would let him know just how much she was bothered by his closeness.
“We won’t go into that now.” He brought his face to hers until their noses touched, then drew back to look at her. “I love to look at your eyes. They remind me of the golden eyes I once saw on a kitten, all round and gold-flecked and . . . wary that I was going to hurt it. But I wouldn’t have. Not for anything in the world would I have hurt that kitten.” His voice lowered in an imitation of a purr.
The touch of his arm against her stomach caused her flesh to tingle and brought a glow to her face. She felt again the warmth and sense of connection that had pulsed so powerfully between them the night in the hospital when he had soothed her with the warm pressure of his hand on her arm. With his eyes still holding hers
, his hand moved and lay lightly on her uninjured breast. Oh, God! What was she to do? He was so gentle ... so sweet. If only she’d met him before and could have cradled his head to her breast and loved him. Loved him? Oh, no! She was in love with him! She’d never dreamed it could hit her like this. She’d never even imagined that love could come with such a force! She wanted to reach out and say, I’m so tired, Dan. Take care of me, love me ... like I love you. But she didn’t. She lay quietly knowing he could feel the thumping of her heart beneath his hand.
“I wish I didn’t have to go.” His head was on the pillow beside hers and he whispered the words in her ear. “I could sleep right here,” he said as if, talking to himself. “But I’m afraid I’d grab you in the night and hurt you,” he sighed in her ear. “You are a temptress, m’lady. And if I wasn’t the honorable knight that I am, I would ravish you.” His tongue swirled in her ear and his lips nibbled at the lobe.
A Love for All Time Page 7
