“All right. Sex-treats.”
He threw the medical textbook back into the wagon, ambled toward the fire, and sat down beside her. “Your friend is too young to be around while we read this, Eve.”
She caressed the possum’s soft fur for a short while longer, placed it on the ground, then watched it waddle into the forest shadows.
“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Roman asked, watching the fireshine shimmer over her pale body and through her long gold hair.
His compliment brought her a rush of emotion. She leaned toward him, drawn to him by more than desire, more than passion. “I am seized by an unfamiliar feeling,” she whispered.
She explained no further.
She didn’t have to. Roman knew the same odd, yet powerful feeling. But if Theodosia had no name for it, he wouldn’t try to name it, either.
All he knew was that the profound emotion made him want to possess her body and soul.
“The book,” she murmured, her lips a breath away from his. “We were going to read the book.”
“Yeah, the book.” Pulling himself from the powerful spell of feeling cast over him, he dipped his thumbs into the pages and haphazardly opened the volume to whatever section fate decreed.
Looking down at the page staring up at them, he and Theodosia examined the detailed picture of a man who, by means of his tongue, hands, feet, and manhood, was making love to no less than six women at the same time.
“I think I’ll move to Tibet,” Roman quipped. He turned the page, upon which was illustrated another picture.
The diagram showed a man with ropes tied around each of his wrists and ankles. He hung suspended from a ceiling beam, and with his swollen shaft poised and four men handling his ropes, he was being lowered toward a spread-eagled woman on the floor.
“I think I’ll stay in Texas,” Roman decided aloud.
Giggling, Theodosia thumbed through more pages, then stopped at one. “Let’s try this.”
Roman scowled. The picture displayed a couple making love in a sitting position with their feet locked behind their heads. “Are you crazy? I can’t get my feet around the back of my neck like that.”
“Try.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
He stared at her. Was this sexual daredevil really the same prudish woman who had vowed to have a brief, unfeeling bout of coitus in a pitch-dark room? “Look, Theodosia, even if I were able to get my feet crossed behind my head like that, I’d never be able to get them down again. I’d be forced to go through life inching along the ground on my bare—”
“Oh, very well.” She turned to another page. “How about this?”
In the picture she indicated, a man in a standing position made love to a woman while holding her off the floor. They were face-to-face, and the woman’s body was folded in a jackknife pose with the backs of her legs pressed against the man’s chest, her feet resting upon his shoulders, and her hands grasping the back of his neck. To further support her, the man had his hands beneath her bottom.
Roman remembered how far Theodosia had stretched her legs above her head during their sexual encounter in Red Wolf and suspected the unusual form of lovemaking wouldn’t be impossible for her. “This position has definite possibilities.” When he rose from the ground, Theodosia saw he was fully erect and ready to begin. The sight increased her own desire, and she eagerly took his hand when he held it down to her.
Roman helped her to her feet, then clasped her waist. “On the count of three jump aboard. One…two…three.”
She hopped up and into him, curling her legs around his back.
“This is all wrong,” Roman said, staring into her twinkling whiskey eyes. “Your legs are supposed to be on my chest and your feet are supposed to be on my shoulders.”
“But I can see no way of moving my legs upward while you are holding me like this. Your arms are in the way.”
“Did you see directions written anywhere on that page that shows the drawing?”
She shook her head and kissed the tip of his nose. “I believe we shall have to determine the procedure ourselves.”
Roman thought for a moment. “I have an idea.” He set her back on the ground, then lay down on his back. “All right, sit on my stomach and stretch your legs over my chest.”
Carefully, she sat on his belly and adjusted her legs before her so that her feet dangled just past his shoulders.
Her position afforded Roman a tantalizing view of pure femininity. “Why don’t we just stay like this for a while?” he suggested, his hands stroking the tops of her thighs, the tips of his fingers pressing lightly into the sweet treasure between her legs.
Theodosia leaned over and locked her hands behind his neck. “Up, my magnificent Tibetan lover.”
Holding her behind the small of her back, Roman slowly sat up. Theodosia’s legs rose with him. “Are you sure this isn’t hurting you anywhere?”
She sighed. “I feel a long, delicious stretch at the backs of my thighs, and the sweet ache of desire inside my—well, you know.”
He did indeed know. The thought nearly rendered him senseless with longing for her. “All right, I’m going to stand up now. Hold on.”
Standing proved more difficult than he’d imagined. Most of Theodosia’s weight pushed into his torso, and what with her sitting between his chest and bent knees, he was off balance and could not get enough weight pushed toward his legs to be able to stand without rolling backward.
“I’m going to have to rock to my feet,” he informed her. “You just sit still.”
He began to rock back and forth. The sounds of crunching leaves and his own heaves of exertion filled the quiet of the night, but he soon shifted enough weight forward to be able to stand. Quickly, he slid his hands downward and supported Theodosia by holding her bottom. “It’s a wonder those Tibetan men can even perform after the work out of trying to stand up with their women hanging off their necks.”
Theodosia grinned into his eyes. “While you were rocking, I thought of the means they probably employ to arrive in this standing position. It occurred to me that the woman lies on her back upon a high bed or table and raises her legs toward her shoulders. The man then leans over her and slips his arms around her back while the woman wraps hers around his neck. Thus, the man simply straightens.”
“Now you tell me. We could have used the back of the wagon to do that. What good is your genius if you don’t use it in time?” Turning his head to both sides, he kissed each of her ankles.
She felt his swollen sex stir against her lower back. “Make love to me, Roman.”
Her request and the peculiar but highly provocative, wide-open position she was in brought him such fierce desire that a low growl of passion reverberated through his chest. Lifting her higher, he attempted to situate her so that he could lower her directly upon his rigid masculinity.
But he couldn’t see what he was doing and felt his member slide straight through Theodosia’s legs and slide up over her belly.
She looked down and smiled. “You missed.”
“Well, dammit, I can’t see! And since I’m holding you up with both hands, I can’t feel what I’m doing either. It’s like trying to hit the bull’s-eye while blindfolded and with my hands tied behind my back.”
“’Twould give me unprecedented pleasure to assist thee, O helpless one,” Theodosia offered sweetly. She released her right hand from around his neck and took firm hold of his pulsing arousal. “Lift me once more.”
When he did as she asked, she guided him. Her position allowed him to sink more deeply into her than he ever had. “Oh!” she cried softly. Nestling her face in the thick black hair that streamed over his shoulder, she concentrated on the wonderful feeling of being so completely filled by him. “Oh, Roman.”
He couldn’t answer. Gritting his teeth, he tried to stem the pleasure flowing swiftly through his loins. She’d taken all of him, and he was buried so deeply inside her that he could feel her womb. It was
the most incredible sensation he’d ever experienced.
Cautiously, afraid to hurt her, he began to move, inching his hips upward while lifting and lowering Theodosia.
The gentle care he took with her merely frustrated her. “Roman, please.” Raising her head from his shoulder, she pressed her lips to his and slipped her tongue deeply into his mouth.
Her passion freed him from all worry, and he drove into her with all the strength his raging desire lent to him.
But he stilled abruptly when he heard a snapping sound. Dear God, had he or Theodosia cracked something important? “Something broke. Was it something of mine, or something of yours?”
Though she yearned for the sensual peak of the pleasure she’d begun to feel, Theodosia couldn’t stifle her laughter. Her profound amusement burst through her in great churning waves.
Roman was hard pressed to keep a firm hold on her. She quaked in his arms, and the convulsive movements not only caused him to stagger as he struggled to maintain his balance, but made him a little worried over the safety and well-being of his highly vulnerable and deeply buried man parts. He lifted Theodosia high and felt himself slide out of her depths, just as a fresh seizure of laughter rolled through her. “For God’s sake, Theodosia! Stop—”
The rest of his command was lost in a loud groan as he tripped over an exposed tree root and fell toward the ground. Instantly, he twisted his body and landed on his back so Theodosia would not be hurt.
Startled, she ceased laughing. “Are you all right?” she asked, sitting on his belly.
He took a moment to retrieve his breath, which had blown completely out of his chest. “Are you kidding?” he managed to answer. “Falling flat on my back on a tree root, with you coming down hard on my belly was such a pleasant experience that I think we should do it again.”
His sarcasm assured her he wasn’t injured. She moved so that she was lying full length upon him. “Roman,” she began, smiling into his steady gaze, “the cracking sound you heard was caused by your stepping on a brittle stick. I am truly sorry I laughed, but when you asked if one of us had broken something, I simply could not—the thought struck me as—you were so serious, that I—”
He watched laughter come into her eyes again, and this time he joined her in her merriment. Holding her tenderly to him, he laughed into her soft fragrant hair and couldn’t remember ever having so much fun.
“Roman,” Theodosia whispered when her fit of amusement had finally subsided, “we have yet to finish what we started.”
He lifted an ebony eyebrow. “Can we do it—I mean, may we do it the American way?”
She smiled. “Yes, Roman, we may.”
He swept his fingers into the hair at the sides of her head and studied her beauty as if tonight would be the last time he had the pleasure of seeing her. Profoundly tender emotions thrumming through him, he rolled her to her back, and covered her body with his own.
Theodosia gloried in his lovemaking. He pleasured her gently, slowly, and so sweetly that her happiness became a joy so overwhelming, it brought tears to her eyes.
And when at last he was through and he held her next to his warm and powerful body, Theodosia gazed into the fireflames and allowed every memory she had of him to filter through her mind. With each one that came to her, a single truth grew in the heart of her heart, and she slowly came to understand the unfamiliar feeling whose name had eluded her earlier.
She suspected the emotion had come into existence long ago, on the day he’d first settled that glittering sapphire gaze of his upon her.
She’d fallen in love with Roman Montana.
Chapter Eighteen
As summer slipped silently into the edge of autumn, Theodosia kept her love for Roman silent as well. Although he seemed to enjoy her company, he’d never once spoken about his feelings, and so she could not bring herself to admit to her own.
But when time revealed a second secret to her, she knew it was one she could not keep from him. Her woman’s flow was more than a month late.
She had conceived Roman’s child.
If only Roman returned her love, she thought every time he took her into his arms. If only he’d marry her, take her to his ranch, and give her a dozen more children in the years to come. She’d forget every thought of Dr. Wallaby. Every thought of the Brazilian research.
Every thought but the one of Lillian and Upton. Her vow to give them the child they so longed to have haunted her.
Had bearing a child for them not been her plan for months?
She withdrew into herself for long periods of time, deliberating, rationalizing, trying her hardest to see and understand her dilemma in the right light.
And when the answer finally came to her, it caused her great sorrow. But even so, she knew it was the only possible one.
Roman did not love her. She couldn’t make him love her. He was not going to marry her, he was not going to take her to his ranch, and he was not going to give her a dozen more children.
He didn’t want a wife and family. He never had.
She had to concentrate on the well-being of the child she carried.
She did, and imagined Lillian holding the babe while Upton stroked its downy head. The image became so vivid and real in her mind that she could almost smell Lillian’s lemon verbena. Could almost see her sister’s brilliant smile.
The babe deserved to live in a loving home with parents who were not only married…
…but who were totally devoted to each other.
The child belonged with Lillian and Upton.
Roman led the way into Willow Patch, a small town in which he would purchase needed supplies. As he dismounted and tied Secret to a post in front of the whitewashed hotel, he tried to ignore the persistent feeling that something was wrong with Theodosia.
But every time he looked at her, his instincts about her deepened. Something was wrong, and whatever it was, it had been bothering her for the past two days.
He wouldn’t wait for a third day to pass before understanding the reasons for her quiet dismay, for he hated seeing her upset.
And he missed her smile and laughter.
They would spend the night here in the Willow Patch hotel, he decided, and he would confront her as soon as she’d settled in the room.
As it turned out, he couldn’t even wait for her to remove her bonnet before beginning the interrogation. “All right, let’s have it,” he said the second he’d escorted her into their room and closed the door. “I know damned well something’s wrong with you, and I want to know what it is. Right now.”
Her gaze darted around the room, sweeping past the gleaming mahogany bureau, the blue-and-red-braided throw rug, a collection of framed paintings, and the red ruffled curtains hanging on the two small windows. Parting her lips to speak, she unconsciously cupped her lower abdomen.
Roman watched her. Gently, as if afraid she would shatter into a million bits, she laid her hand on her stomach.
Realization crashed through him like a stone through glass. Stunned, he stared at her belly.
There, behind her hand, deep inside her, slept a tiny life.
His baby.
He could not have been more sure of its existence if he held it in his arms.
He raked his fingers through his hair, trying desperately to sort through the explosion of thoughts that took hold of him at that moment.
He thought of the lives he’d taken.
He’d never created one.
He thought of his own life. What righteous thing had he done with it? He’d worked and saved money, yes, but he’d yet to see his dreams come true. Had yet to attain the proof of his success.
The baby was no notion, no unfulfilled objective. It was real, alive, a miracle he’d had a part in bringing about.
He thought of kin. He had none. No relatives anywhere in the entire world.
He did now. The baby was his own flesh and blood.
He thought a thousand things and connected all of them to the small life
dwelling inside Theodosia’s womb. The precious life he and Theodosia had created together.
“Roman,” Theodosia murmured, her head bowed, “what I set out to do has been done. I have conceived.”
He tried to reply but remained too astonished to speak.
“I am grateful for all you have done for me,” Theodosia continued, still staring at the hardwood floor. Anguish filled every corner of her heart, but she valiantly resisted tears. “And I wish you happiness and success in all your endeavors.”
The meaning behind her words struck him instantly.
She was leaving him.
He couldn’t understand, couldn’t comprehend why she was leaving. What about their baby? he wondered frantically.
Their baby.
No.
God. He’d forgotten. He’d been so totally involved with Theodosia herself that he’d forgotten what she wanted from him.
A baby.
He’d given one to her, and now she was going to give it to her sister and brother-in-law! Was going to bear the child and hand it over to two people he’d never met. Then she’d set sail for Brazil and wade in some beetle-infested river for the rest of her life.
Those had been her intentions all along, and she hadn’t forgotten them. But in light of all that had happened between them…in light of all the times they’d shared, how could she continue to hold on to her original intentions?
He wasn’t exactly sure what the shared times had meant to him, but they’d meant something. Apparently, though, they’d meant absolutely nothing to Theodosia. If they had, she wouldn’t be so eager to return to another life without him.
He wasn’t good enough for her, he realized suddenly. Wasn’t smart enough for her. He’d been but the chosen candidate to her, the man who’d satisfied her needs and wants.
Just as he’d been for Flora. He’d never been good enough for Flora, either. She’d used him, then sold everything he’d thought belonged to him. She’d left him with nothing but a dream.
And now Theodosia was about to take away the baby that belonged to him and leave him with the same unfulfilled dream Flora had.
Heartstrings Page 33
