Oberon Boxed Set (Books 1-3) Welcome to Oberon

by P. G. Forte

  “I can’t believe you let me go all this time without telling me who you were.” She was giving serious thought to the idea of doing damage to the man. Grinding her foot into his instep sounded like a good place to start. Or, maybe a good swift kick in the groin.

  She’d been so incredibly frustrated last September by that idiot cop’s dismissive attitude toward her. By the way he’d completely ignored her arguments and opinions. By the stone faced, hard-assed, total stupidity of the man! She’d spent hours afterwards dreaming up suitable forms of revenge. None of which had ever included taking the idiot to bed!

  Ryan frowned. “I can’t believe you didn’t even recognize me.”

  He had the nerve to sound insulted about it, too, Siobhan shook her head in disbelief. Incredible.

  “Why would you think I’d want to?” she asked.

  As if it hadn’t been bad enough that her carefully planned event had gone to hell when a body had been discovered in the middle of it, the police had descended on the scene like a swarm of locusts. Against all her protests, despite all her pleas, they’d appropriated every blasted piece of her data—information she’d spent the entire morning collecting. It had taken her weeks to clear up the mess.

  “Believe me, Ryan, I had every reason to try and forget about you. Do you have any idea how much extra work you made for me?”

  “Come on, Siobhan, be reasonable. You can’t tell me your priorities are so whacked that you still think picking up trash is as important as an active homicide investigation.”

  Reasonable? She finally managed to wrench herself out of his arms.

  “I doubt anyone could ever measure up to your idea of what constitutes reasonable, Ryan,” she said over her shoulder, as she stalked back inside. “And I, for one, have no plans even to try. But I can tell you one thing, I would never have gotten involved with you if I’d known who you were.”

  “Well, then I guess it’s lucky for me you didn’t figure it out until it was too late,” he said as he followed her back into the center.

  And now, he had the nerve to sound amused.

  “Really? What makes you think it’s too late?” The words popped out of her mouth before she had a chance to consider what she meant.

  “Oh, you mean it’s not?” He flashed her a disarming grin that was way too sure of itself, “So... what then? You gonna change your mind and stop sleeping with me?”

  She stared at him for a moment, without answering. “What if I said yes?” she answered slowly, and had the small satisfaction of watching the grin disappear from his face.

  “Is that what you’re saying?” His eyes burned bleakly in his suddenly somber face. “You’re saying it’s over between us? You’re gonna kick me out of your bed now? Because of something that happened last autumn?”

  She hesitated. The only thing she hated more than having to back down now and eat her words, was knowing how much she’d regret it if she stood her ground and actually made him leave. “Maybe,” she hedged, whirling around and heading back towards the kitchen, hoping he’d follow.

  He didn’t disappoint her. “Maybe?” She heard him mutter angrily behind her. “What the hell kind of answer is that?”

  “What kind of answer do you expect, from someone as unreasonable as I am?” she asked as she pulled a bag of edamame from her freezer.

  She’d already had dinner and several glasses of wine, as well. But stress was making her hungry all over again. Besides, she’d been ignoring her needs and her own welfare far too much lately. It was past time she did something positive for herself. A woman her age needed certain things. Like a daily dose of soy protein. Regular exercise. And an unwavering commitment to the use of sunscreens – a really good one, too, with added moisturizers and an SPF of at least 45.

  She slapped the plastic bag against the counter several times, to break up the frozen mass of soybeans inside it. What she did not need, however, were the hassles of dealing with some arrogant, self-absorbed, domineering, idiotic male of the species!

  No matter how she’d come to feel about him.

  But oh, she wished he’d say or do something to change her mind about that.

  Ryan looked at her glumly, as he tried to resign himself to what had just occurred. His gaze took in the militant line of her shoulders and the cold fire that sparked in her eyes as she turned her head to glare at him. He really should have expected this. Things between them had been going too smoothly these last few days. He should have known it was only a matter of time before something occurred to disrupt the pleasant flow.

  Neither of them were fated for that much tranquility. He’d recognized that much right from the start. Still, he hadn’t imagined things would end quite so soon. Or for so little reason.

  Although a large part of him wanted nothing more than to be able to smile and say ‘thanks, it’s been fun’ on his way out the door, he was aware of another part that was already writhing in anguish at the thought of what that would mean. Of how it would feel to wake up tomorrow morning and know he would never have her again.

  It couldn’t be over already. He wouldn’t allow it! Panic tore holes in his gut at the mere idea of it. He wasn’t ready yet to say good bye. No matter how poor his chances for success he couldn’t let her go without a fight. He needed this too much right now. He needed her.

  “This is crazy,” he muttered, stalking over to the sink where she stood, calmly pouring water into a pot of bright green beans. He put his hands on her shoulders and she shrugged them off. Undeterred, he reached around her to turn off the water and remove the pot from her hands. Then he took her by the shoulders again and turned her around, almost wincing at the look of cool disinterest she gave him.

  “Siobhan,” he entreated softly, “Honey, please. Let’s not do this.”

  “Do what?” she asked, eyebrows rising. “What is it you think we’re doing, anyway?”

  Good question, he thought unhappily. He’d never been able to figure out what was going on at times like these. Not in any of his previous relationships and not now, either. But surely... surely that wasn’t what was important here, was it?

  “Please?” It was all he could think of to say, and he couldn’t have been more surprised when her gaze softened and with one gentle hand she cupped his cheek.

  “What is it you want, Ryan?”

  “You,” he answered promptly, as he slid his hands to her waist and pulled her close. “I just want you, Siobhan. I don’t know what’s gone wrong here tonight all of a sudden, but I can’t bear the thought of losing you. Not now. Not like this. This week has been so damn good, hasn’t it? Even with all the craziness? Can’t we please just... just give ourselves another chance?”

  She dropped her hand from his face and blinked rapidly several times. A flood of color spread up her neck and across her face. “Yes,” she whispered, “Yes, of course we can.” He had to resist the urge to pick her up and carry her off to her bedroom. He had no choice but to resist it, because he was pretty sure he’d never make it that far.

  She might have sensed what he was thinking, however, because without waiting for him to speak, she took his hand and led him from the room. He gave one brief thought to the unlocked front door, but then he dismissed it and everything else from his mind. His passion for her, a force as dangerous and irresistible as any undertow, took hold of him once more; sweeping away all that was left of his resistance.

  Siobhan didn’t bother with the lights, though there was little enough moon to see by tonight. She didn’t bother shutting the window beside her bed either. The surf sounded loud in the little room, but her heart sounded even louder as it thundered in her ears.

  He loved her. Even if he’d never come right out and say it – even if he’d never go so far as to admit it to himself – she knew it was true. It had to be. She’d looked into his face, into his eyes, when he’d begged her for a second chance, and in that one instant, everything had become clear.She knew it was not what either one of them had intended, but that se
emed to make no difference now. She could no longer deny what her heart had been telling her for days. He loved her.

  And, God help her, she loved him, too.

  She paused to light the candle on her nightstand. She was aware of an almost unbearable shyness welling up inside her, just as if they hadn’t already been sleeping with each other for an entire week. As the little flame leapt up the wick she thought again of that first time, in front of his fire. It was different now, she thought nervously. Last Saturday had been wonderful. Special. Infinitely memorable. But last Saturday she hadn’t been in love.

  She turned to find him regarding her with a dark, enigmatic expression in his eyes and she felt her breath catch almost painfully in her throat. Love. She’d nearly scared him away, earlier this week, when she’d used the word in jest. No pressure, he’d said. But she’d bet anything it was himself he was thinking about when he’d said that, rather than her. And now, she’d bite her tongue in two before she’d risk using the word again.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked. He closed the small distance between them, tilted her chin up and kissed her. A soft, tentative kiss, unlike any of the others they’d shared. It left her shivering with need. She opened her eyes to find him watching her with a slightly puzzled expression on his face. “You look a little... I don’t know... worried.”

  She shook her head, dropping her eyes so that he wouldn’t read the truth in them. “No. Of course I’m not. What would I be worried about?” She was though. Last week his touch had merely warmed her. Tonight it would very likely burn her through and through.

  “I don’t know.” But he was still frowning as he eased her sweater off her shoulders and down her arms until it fell to the floor at her feet. She shivered again as his hands, more clumsy than usual, fumbled with the buttons on her shirt. “You’re not cold, are you?” he asked as his hands went still.

  If anyone was looking worried tonight, it was him. She shook her head again and tried to smile reassuringly. “No. Really, I’m fine.” Her heart was pounding and she wasn’t all that certain about her knees, but other than that – she really was fine. More than fine, in fact. It had been a long time since she had felt this sure about anything.

  The night her daughters were born, she’d felt this same sense of rightness, an almost preternatural feeling of being exactly in the right place at the right time. She’d been nervous then, too. Worried about the possibility of pain, frightened of all the responsibilities she was about to take on. But utterly confident that, in that one moment, she was doing exactly what she most wanted to do. What she’d been born to do.

  She felt almost the same way now. Here. Tonight. With this man.

  “Siobhan. I—”

  She met his eyes and all the uncertainty in his gaze. She reached up to frame his face with her hands. “Ryan.” Her voice was little more than a whisper, but the smile that swept across her face this time was genuine. “There’s nothing wrong. I swear it. Just, please, make love to me?”

  They weren’t the words she wanted to say, but it was the closest she dared to come. As his lips met hers in a soul-searing kiss, the last of the walls that surrounded her heart dissolved, as though they’d been made of nothing more enduring than sand. The truth flooded through her.

  I love you, Ryan, she thought, clinging to him as she kissed him back. Whatever it cost her, she’d pay the price. She’d pay it gladly. I love you...

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  Chapter Twenty One

  * * * *

  I love you! The thought battered its way across Ryan’s brain and he kissed her all the harder to keep from shouting the words out loud. Once said, he could never take them back. And it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be.

  Thrusting his fingers into her hair, he found the clip at the back of her head that kept it anchored in its tidy knot. He tugged at it, ignoring the startled cry she uttered against his lips as it tore free. Then he wrapped both fists in her hair, immobilizing her while he deepened their kiss in a desperate search for more of the taste of her. She clutched at his arms, hands trembling, and he shuddered as a wave of desire ripped through him.

  I love you. His fingers tightened abruptly in the slippery locks. Her hair, he thought wildly, as he gasped for breath. He’d always loved her hair. Always. He loved its texture and its sheen. It had been one of the first things he noticed about her, back in September. And during the past few weeks it hadn’t exactly escaped his attention that he’d purposely chosen a dog whose coat was a dead match for the color. He loved her hair – but that was about as far as it went.

  He pulled back to look at her. She was breathing hard, too. Her chest rising and falling with each quick breath. He peeled back the folds of her shirt to see more of her, shoving it down her arms until it followed her sweater to the floor. The ebb and swell of her breasts above the tide line of ecru lace was just about the prettiest sight he could imagine. He ran the tips of his fingers along the edge of the lace, then he reached behind her to undo her bra, thrilling to the feel of her soft, warm skin beneath his hands. He loved that about her too, he thought, as the bra fell away. He reached for her eagerly, cupping her breasts in his hands and pressing them together. He would bury his face right there – right there between them – and not think about anything else. Her throat spasmed as she swallowed. She was shivering again.

  Reluctantly, his eyes returned to her face. “You’re sure you’re not cold?” She shook her head. But her expression, one of welcome and not-quite-worry, made him nervous. He stared into her eyes. Twin reflections of the candle’s flame glittered within them, like two stars gleaming in the depths of the night. If he were a mariner, he would follow them home. He would follow them gladly, endlessly.

  I love you. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. No. No, he didn’t. He cared for her, of course. More than he could remember having cared for any woman in a very long time. But love? He wrapped her in his arms, hoping to stop her shivering with his own body, warm around her. He bent his head and kissed her once again.

  Her lips were soft and sweet and, oh, man, he did love kissing her. But— Jesus, what was wrong with him tonight? He was not in love. He’d never been in love, nor did he ever want to be. It was a trap. A morass. A minefield laid with need, with confusion and with loss. It was the last thing that either of them wanted. He was sure of that!

  No promises. Isn’t that what she’d told him, just the other night? No pressure. Hadn’t he sworn to keep things cool?

  So what part of this was cool?

  Shaken by the thought, he pulled away again, almost astonished to realize that his hands had kept busy even while his mind had roamed. She stood naked before him now, wearing only a shy mysterious smile that was a far remove from the anger that she had shown him earlier tonight. Releasing her for the moment, he quickly stripped out of his own clothes as well. Make love to me, she’d said and oh, he intended to do just that except—

  “Siobhan, one of these days my leg really will be better, you know. And then, I promise, I’ll make love to you the way you deserve.”

  Her eyes widened suddenly. He watched in dismay as the smile disappeared from her face. “Have we really been doing that badly up ‘til now?” she asked, and he wanted to throw himself over the nearest cliff for being the cause of her unhappiness.

  “Oh, honey, no.” He took her by the shoulders. “That’s not what I meant, at all. I swear it’s not.” Should he risk telling her? Making love with her so far exceeded his experiences with other women, he could hardly believe how little he’d been settling for. No doubt he’d make that come out wrong, too. He was steeling himself to make the attempt anyway, when he realized that the corners of her mouth were curving upwards once again.

  Her eyes sparked with sly amusement as she murmured, “Well, but after all... I guess it really wouldn’t hurt for you to practice a little.”

  Practice? He stared at her, uncomprehending, for the several seconds that it took for him to realize she wa
s teasing. Her laughter sounded like the cool patter of rain. Without thinking it through, he bent quickly and scooped her up into his arms. “I’ll show you who needs to practice,” he told her as she clutched at his neck. He managed to take the two steps he needed to before his leg buckled and he stumbled. Dropping her onto the bed, he all but collapsed alongside her.

  She was still laughing breathlessly as he gathered her into his arms. He held her close and watched as the laughter fled from her eyes. Leaving them wide and luminous and filled with some emotion whose meaning he couldn’t ascertain. Whatever it was, it burned bright and steady as she returned his gaze.

  The night seemed to close in around them, like something thick, heavy and hot. And even as he bent to kiss her mouth, her shoulder, the rise of her breast, even as he settled himself once more between her legs; he was aware of her watching him with that same strange expression still on her face. As though she, too, had something she was aching to say.

  I love you. Once again, the words sprang to his lips. And once again, he sealed them back inside with a kiss. He wasn’t aching to say anything, damn it! But his whole body trembled with the effort he was making to hold himself in check.

  She murmured something as he joined their bodies with one, long, slow, gentle thrust. Whatever it was, its meaning was lost somewhere between the pounding of the rain against the roof and the roar of blood in his ears.

  He began to move slowly within her. He had to move slowly –and carefully too, because of his leg. But somehow slow seemed exactly right for tonight. So he made slow, careful, thoughtful love to her. And gazed deep into her eyes. While the atmosphere around them seemed to thicken.

  And thicken. Until it seemed to him that it was no longer air they were moving through or breathing, at all. As though they’d become submerged in some aquatic region where every move they made was slow, flowing, almost effortless.