Blood pounded through his veins, throbbing in his loins and hardening him to the point of pain. He opened his mouth and drew her finger inside, alternately sucking on it and stroking it with his tongue. Her eyes became heavy-lidded as she watched him, and he could feel her pressing closer to his thigh as it rested between her legs.
He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything or anyone in his life. His body cried out for her, begging for the release he would find inside her. He ached to watch her respond to him, to see her come apart under his hands and his mouth.
The need to touch her consumed him. He imagined the feel of her skin under his fingers, the way she would react when he caressed her. Before he realized it, he was pulling her blouse out of the waistband of her shorts. When he laid his palm against her belly, he felt her twitch and her muscles tighten. He could feel her skin getting warmer and softening for him.
He barely managed to push the buttons of her blouse through the tiny holes. His hands shook so badly that it took three tries to get the last one. When he brushed her shirt apart, her white bra gleamed in the firelight and he reached out and unfastened it.
Her breasts spilled over into his hands, fuller and heavier than he remembered. As he held them in his palms, he looked up at her face. She was watching him, her features shadowed by the flicker of the firelight. Never taking his eyes off her face, he brushed his thumbs slowly across her already hard nipples.
She drew in a sharp breath, and her hands tightened their grip on his arms. When he did it again, she closed her eyes and arched so that she pressed harder into his leg. He lowered his mouth to hers, and the tiny moan that vibrated into his mouth sent the tension in his body coiling even tighter.
Sliding down her body, he buried his face in the valley between her breasts, drinking in her scent. Her skin warmed by passion, she smelled of darkness and desire. It was the scent he’d dreamed about for so long—a scent that was uniquely Lexie.
He moved over to take her nipple into his mouth, and she moaned again and arched into him. One of her hands slid slowly down his back and traced the curve of his buttocks, finally pressing him against her. The tentative gesture pushed him over the edge, and with one hand he reached down to unfasten her shorts.
His other hand cupped her breast, unwilling to let go of her. As his thumb traced the outline of her nipple, he felt something warm and wet trickle over his hand.
Lexie stiffened and brought her hand up to shield her breasts. Squirming away from him, she sat up and stared at him, her eyes huge and her hand still covering her breasts. Her shirt gaped open and the zipper on her shorts was pulled halfway down.
Desire pounded through him, along with an almost-uncontrollable demand for release. He reached for her, and she scooted backward again.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded. He hardly recognized the guttural voice as his own.
Even in the dim light from the fire he could see her face redden. “I’m sorry, Caine. I don’t know what I was thinking about.”
“Come here and I’ll show you.”
Shaking her head, she suddenly looked down at her breasts again. He thought she got even redder. Her hands fumbled as she fastened her bra, then buttoned her blouse. Smoothing her hands down her shorts, she realized the zipper was undone and fastened that, too.
He sat and watched her, battling with his body for control. When he thought he could speak without begging her to finish what they’d started, he asked in a low voice, “What happened, Lexie?”
“What do you mean, what happened?” She turned away and picked up a stick to stir the fire. “You were there, too.”
“I know what we were doing.” He struggled to keep his voice even. “I want to know why we stopped.”
He could see her hand clench the stick more tightly. “Let’s just say I came to my senses.”
He said roughly, “When we stopped, the only thing you were capable of coming to was a—”
“Stop it, Caine,” she interrupted, tossing the stick away and turning around to face him. Taking a deep breath, she said more softly, “That’s what stress does to people, isn’t it? Makes them forget their inhibitions, do things they normally wouldn’t do. I guess I just got over my stress.”
“Lexie—” he began, but she interrupted again.
“I need to go to sleep, Caine, if we have to keep walking tomorrow. Are you going to set up the tent, or is there somewhere else I should sleep?”
She stared at him, defiant, but he could see the traces of embarrassment in her face. Curious, he watched her for a moment until she looked away. Picking up Ana from the ground, she turned aside from him and began to feed the baby. He wouldn’t find out now what had happened to make her stop. She had shut him out as completely as if she’d slammed a door in his face, and he knew it.
His lower body still throbbed, reminding him of what he and Lexie had been doing just moments ago. In spite of her words, he was willing to bet that her body hadn’t forgotten, either.
Picking up their packs, he slung them into the hollow tree he’d found earlier and waited for her to finish nursing the kid. She didn’t know it, but this discussion wasn’t over. It had only been postponed.
Lexie started awake and opened her eyes to total darkness, confused and disoriented. Ana snuffled in the blackness next to her, and suddenly her memory came flooding back.
They were sleeping in another hollow tree, the mosquito netting that Caine had strung across the opening a pitifully flimsy barrier against the jungle outside. Spending the day walking through the forest, followed by the encounter with the jaguar, had used up all her energy. Exhausted, she lay perfectly still for a while, hoping that Ana would fall back to sleep, but her grunts grew progressively louder.
Finally giving in to the inevitable, Lexie rolled over to sit up and bumped into Caine, lying close beside her. She froze, knowing from the tense stillness of his body that he, too, was awake.
After a long moment she moved carefully away from him, ignoring the heat that swept through her when she accidentally brushed against his hand. “I have to feed Ana,” she whispered.
“I figured.” Spoken in a normal voice, his words echoed off the walls of their makeshift room, and she glanced fearfully toward the trembling mosquito netting.
“Shh,” she whispered fiercely.
She could hear him rising next to her, and wanted to call him back when he moved away. “Don’t worry, Lexie. The only ones out there to hear us are the bats and the other night creatures, and they don’t care what we’re talking about.” She heard the almost-silent rustle of cloth as he lifted the mosquito netting and looked outside, then let it drop again. “There’s nothing out there except the jungle.”
Picking Ana up, she scooted over to lean against the wood of the hollow tree. “Now why doesn’t that reassure me?”
“Why are you afraid of the jungle at night?” His voice was quiet and completely nonjudgmental.
She hadn’t meant to let him see her fear, and even though she knew he couldn’t see the expression on her face she looked down at Ana. The silence stretched between them, but he didn’t say a word. Finally she answered shortly, “I’ve always been scared of the dark. Being in the jungle, where everything’s so alien, just makes it worse.”
She didn’t think he was going to answer, but after a long time, he said, “I didn’t think you were afraid of anything, Lexie. Why the dark?”
Stalling for time, she laid Ana over her shoulder and gently patted her back. He didn’t say anything, but she could feel him watching her. Sighing, she said, “Aren’t most people afraid of the dark?”
“Some are. But there’s usually a reason.”
Somehow, in the intimacy of the hollow tree, she suddenly wanted to tell Caine why she was afraid of the dark. She wanted to share the nightmare with him—the one she’d never told anyone, not even her father. Her father would have told her not to be foolish, that it was just a bad dream. Everyone said Caine was just like her father, but some
where deep down she knew he wouldn’t dismiss her fears. Maybe it was because she’d sensed he was a man who hid fears of his own.
“It wasn’t long after my mother died,” she began in a low, uneven voice. Even thinking about the nightmare made her palms sweat and her muscles tremble. “I woke up from a dream, and it was pitch-dark in my room.” Stopping, she drew in a deep, shuddering breath as the horrible memories flooded back. “I’d been having trouble sleeping, and my father had had the maid put up blackout curtains so the light wouldn’t bother me in the morning.”
Caine slid toward her until he sat beside her, his leg almost touching hers. “What was the dream, Lexie?”
She reached out blindly for his hand, and his fingers curled around hers, warm and reassuring. “I dreamed I was in the coffin with my mother,” she said, her voice trembling. “It was dark, and I knew she was dead and I was alive, but they’d closed the lid on top of us. They were going to bury me with her, and I couldn’t make anyone hear me and open the lid. I screamed and screamed and pounded on the lid, but no one heard me.”
She clung to his hand and stared blindly into the darkness, the paralyzing fear washing over her once again. “I woke up just as they were lowering the coffin into the ground, and I couldn’t see a thing. My room was totally black and too warm, and I thought the dream was real.”
The remembered panic sickened her again, as it did every time she let herself think about the dream. “For a few seconds, I knew I was awake and I thought it was really happening. I thought I was being buried with my mother.”
Swallowing hard, she tried to make her voice sound light. “I know it’s stupid, and it was a long time ago, but it’s my phobia and there it is. I’m sure one day I’ll get over it.”
Caine didn’t say a thing. Gently taking Ana out of her arms, he laid the child on the ground and pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry, Lexie,” he murmured into her hair. “I had no idea. I wouldn’t have made you get into these hollow trees if I had known.”
His chest was hard and solid, and his heart beat slowly and reassuringly under her ear. The warmth radiating from him was a welcome contrast to the numbing chill that held her in its grip. Closing her eyes, she wrapped her arms around him.
He pulled her into his lap and held her, rubbing her back and whispering soothing words into her ear. After a long time the trembling slowed, then stopped, and she reluctantly pulled away from him.
“I’m sorry,” she said, stiff with discomfort. What on earth would he think of her, falling apart like that? “I’ll change Ana so we can go back to sleep.”
“It’s okay, Lexie,” he said, and she had never heard his voice so tender before. “I don’t think your fear is silly and I’m not going to tell you to snap out of it. I’ll try to make things easier for you at night from now on.”
“I didn’t tell you because I was whining about our situation,” she replied, horrified that he’d misunderstood. “I know we can’t change our plans now.”
“I never thought you were whining.” His voice changed and deepened, and she felt her heart begin to pound. “You’ve been a real trouper about this whole mess. You’ve surprised me.” The last words were said in a gruff voice, almost as if he was reluctant to admit it.
She lay down and pulled Ana close to her. “I’ve surprised myself,” she said frankly. “I didn’t think I would be able to walk into the jungle at night, let alone get into a hollow tree.”
“Go back to sleep,” he murmured into her ear. “We have a long day ahead of us.” Slowly he pulled her next to him and wrapped one arm around her, nestling her into the curve of his body. For an instant she resisted, but she gradually relaxed into the warmth and solid comfort of him. The darkness and fear receded as she closed her eyes and concentrated on how he felt, lying so close to her.
He felt wonderful, she admitted to herself. She was safe and protected, tucked against him with one of his arms curled around her. In fact, she couldn’t think of a time when she’d felt safer. Her eyes drifted closed, and just before she fell asleep she wriggled closer to Caine.
The darkness was gone. Her first feeling was relief as she opened her eyes to see the faint light of a jungle dawn illuminating the hollow tree. Even the noises that echoed from outside the tree had become familiar, and therefore almost comforting.
Ana was lying next to her, still asleep. Lexie could roll over and go back to sleep herself—a precious luxury that she hadn’t known for the past two months. Her lips curving into a smile even as she let her eyes drift shut, she tried to roll over and found herself unable to move.
Her eyes snapped open again and she looked around wildly. Turning her head, she looked directly into Caine’s eyes. He watched her through half-open lids, only half-awake himself.
“Sleep while you can,” he rasped, his voice incredibly sexy in the early-morning light. “It won’t be long before we’ll have to get up.”
He had curled one of his arms around her during the night, holding her tightly against him, and his hand covered her belly. Her legs had tangled with his, and now her thigh rested intimately between his. Heat flooded her face as she tried to extricate herself and move away from him.
“Relax.” His low voice soothed her, and one of his hands smoothed her hair away from her face. “You’ll be more comfortable using me as a pillow.”
“I don’t want to use you at all,” she retorted, trying to push his arm away.
His arm tightened, then he released her so he could roll her over onto her back. “What do you want to do with me, then, Lexie?”
He wasn’t half-awake anymore. His blue eyes glittered down at her, hot and aware. She could feel the tension in his muscles where his leg still rested against hers, could feel the effort he made to hold himself in control.
“I don’t know,” she said slowly, realizing it was the truth. Three days ago, her feelings about Caine O’Roarke had been straightforward and easy to identify. He was the man who’d walked out on her so he could snap to attention for her father; the man who’d left town on her father’s orders and never even bothered to say goodbye. Caine was the man who had hurt her so deeply that just thinking about him brought searing pain and a deep, unshakable anger.
But her feelings had shifted almost since the moment he’d walked into her house in Santa Ysabel. They weren’t so clear-cut, so black-and-white anymore. Her own reaction to his gesture of comfort yesterday had proved that.
Caine wasn’t the easy-to-classify, uncomplicated man she’d assumed him to be. She still had no idea what made him tick, but she knew there were no simplistic explanations. There had been pain in his gaze—hard and desperate and buried deeply— more than once. His reaction to Ana, although it pierced her soul, made her wonder what had caused it.
“I don’t know what I want from you, Caine,” she repeated, knowing it was the truth. “I don’t really know anything about you.”
The pain she’d seen before flickered through his eyes briefly and was gone. “There isn’t anything to know, Lexie. What you see is what you get.”
“Somehow I don’t think that’s the case,” she murmured.
He reached out and cupped her face with his hand. “No?” His eyes pinned her to the ground, his desire plain to read. “Tell me what you see now, and I’ll do my best to give it to you.”
“I see an enigma,” she whispered, watching his eyes darken and smolder.
“I don’t think so, Lexie.” Slowly he lowered his mouth to hers. “I think what I want right now is crystal clear.”
His kiss didn’t start out soft and comforting as it had the night before. It was wild and reckless, like the desire she felt raging through him, and it awakened an answering desire in her.
She forgot about the jungle, forgot about the men searching for them, forgot everything but the taste of Caine’s mouth on hers and the feel of his hard body pressing her into the dirt and dead leaves they lay on. He reached up to hold her head still for a plundering kiss and she realized, with a s
hock of excitement, that his hands were trembling.
Tentatively she slid her hands down his back, feeling his corded muscles tense with the effort of holding himself in check. When her hands reached his hips and stilled, he groaned, deep in his throat, and slid his hands down to her hips to pull her closer.
An answering tension gathered in her body, every nerve throbbing to the rhythm of his mouth on hers. One of his hands hadn’t stopped at her hip but continued down her leg, finding the incredibly sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Stroking lightly, his fingers slipped beneath the hem of her baggy shorts and crept upward.
She was on fire, her body burning for him. Her mouth stilled on his as she held her breath, anticipating the touch of his fingers at the apex of her thighs. When he cupped her, lightly, within the palm of his hand, she sucked in a trembling breath and clutched his shoulders.
“Yes, sweetheart,” he whispered into her ear. “That’s what I want. I want you to need me as much as I need you.”
She couldn’t answer. Turning her head blindly, she searched for his mouth and the dark, intoxicating taste of him. His triumphant groan was smothered as it vibrated into her mouth.
This was what she’d thirsted for for the past eleven months. Caine was the only man who’d ever made her need like this, the only man who’d ever made her feel whole. And in spite of all the reasons that it was folly to get involved with him again, she was powerless right now over the demands of her body.
Caine, she slowly realized, was apparently not quite as swept away. The tension in his body was no longer sexual as he lifted himself off her. The fire in his eyes disappeared, was replaced by the flat, expressionless look she’d begun to hate. Very carefully he eased himself away from her and rolled over onto his side.
To Save His Child Page 11
