Wild Rain

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Wild Rain Page 10

by Donna Kauffman


  “Strange, that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “That life and death issues are easier to handle than personal ones.”

  “You say that as if you’re not just talking about me.”

  “Does that surprise you?”

  “Maybe. A little.”

  “What, I look like a man who wears his emotions on his sleeve?”

  She snorted. It wasn’t a ladylike sound. It made him want to laugh. It also made him more determined than ever to taste her again. Taste her smiles, her laughter. Her—

  “It’s just that you seem very comfortable with your body. You’re in tune with its needs and demands.”

  That got his full attention. He didn’t dare react. Did she have any idea she was handling explosives here?

  “Knowing how to satisfy my sexual needs and being intimate are two different things.” He could hardly believe he’d said that. Admitted that.

  “I suppose you’re right,” she said thoughtfully.

  “What, you don’t know?” He leaned in her direction. “Have you never just satisfied your body and not your mind?” He did it all the time. Every time, if the truth be told.

  He noticed the stiffness creep into her spine and shoulders, the way her hands clutched at each other as she tucked her knees under her chin in the ultimate defensive posture. But her gaze remained hard on his, her expression making it clear she’d taken his question like a challenge. One she apparently intended to meet. But with obvious cost.

  “I think I’ve always been so concerned with fulfilling the sexual needs of … of my … partner that, well, I’ve never really thought about mine.”

  Oh, mite, he thought, what a waste. He started to speak but she went on, apparently needing to get it all out.

  “As for intimacy, yes, I think I’ve had that.”

  She thought? Well hell, he wasn’t exactly an expert on the subject himself. Except to know when there wasn’t any.

  “At least, I’ve wanted it. I mean, I’ve never had casual sex. Just for the …”

  “Release? Orgasm?”

  She looked taken aback by his harsh intrusion.

  “No tiptoeing, remember?”

  Her eyes narrowed. Yeah, he thought, there’s my battler.

  “Yes. And the answer is no. I’ve never had sex just for the orgasm.”

  Her color heightened. In another woman, Reese would have read it as anger or defiance. And those emotions were present. But so was fear. Fear of discovery.

  She’d never had an orgasm. He’d bet every one he’d ever had—every one he’d ever given—on it.

  He thought back over his life and all the times he’d been with a woman. Take away the physical climax and what did he have left? Not much. Maybe nothing. Jillian had said she’d wanted intimacy in her relationships, but Reese doubted she’d found even that. So what had she gotten?

  Less than nothing.

  The realization hit him like a hard punch to the gut. Air suddenly became a precious commodity. His need for her had just gone from necessary to imperative. Not because he wanted to play macho stud and teach the little sexual ingenue about peaking in all its wonderful variations—though he wouldn’t deny the idea of awakening her turned him on in ways he’d never dreamed. No, he wanted her because the very idea of Jillian looking into the eyes of another man the first time she hit that crest was simply untenable.

  And yet he wouldn’t be the one. Couldn’t be.

  The revelation itself had been too powerful. Too stunning. Too potent. And he had a very disturbing notion that the price for being the one would be intimacy.

  Even if he wanted to—and he didn’t want to contemplate that he might—it was a price he couldn’t pay.

  Worse, it was a price he wasn’t certain he was capable of paying. His childhood had seen to that. And the years spent cleaning up the back streets of Miami certainly hadn’t changed it any.

  And Jillian, with all her ghosts, and her battles so hard won and so painfully lost, deserved nothing less.

  “Good on you, then,” he said at last. “You’re the lucky one.” He shifted slightly, hoping to ease the persistent ache between his legs, and forced his thoughts back to their more immediate problems.

  He never had the chance.

  A tremendous boom rocked the house, followed by horrific tearing sounds, as if the house was being rent in two like a piece of fabric. The noise became so loud, it hurt his ears. “Get near the middle stack of boxes!” Reese yelled as loud as he could. He reached for the edges of the mattress and yanked until one whole side caved in, then scooted around to the next side. Jillian saw what he was up to and moved to the edge nearest her and began to tug.

  Reese’s first instinct was to order her back to the relative safety of the center of the room, but there was no time for arguing.

  In minutes that seemed like years, they had pulled down all four sides of the heavy mattress to blanket them, with only a small stack in the center to lift the mattress and provide breathing space.

  Reese reached out and pulled Jillian back against him. “Stay down, close to the boxes.”

  He’d intended for her to curl up close to the center stack so he could curve his body around her, shielding her the best he could. Instead she turned to face him.

  The screeching wail and moan of the wind made it difficult for him to hear what she was saying.

  “What happened? Is the house collapsing on us?”

  He pulled her against his chest and pushed her face into the crook of his neck, turning his head so his mouth was level with her ear. “Part of it’s gone. That’s why the sound is so much louder.”

  She leaned up, her lips grazing his earlobe. Despite the adrenaline pounding throughout his system—or maybe because of it—his body leapt in response. Damn, she was so soft and sweet. And strong. And tough.

  “What do you think our chances are, Reese?”

  He pulled his head back, trying to look into her eyes. It was too dark. Any other woman would be falling apart, screaming, going starkers on him. Not Jillian.

  She held him tightly, her body trembled, but her question demanded an honest answer. He gave her one.

  “Not the best.”

  He felt her still for a second, then let her head rest once again beside his neck. The action was simple, and yet so very complex. She trusted him.

  And he’d never in his life wanted to be worthy of a person’s trust like he did right then.

  He let his hands drift up and down her back, tucked her legs in closer to his, the wound on his thigh the least of his concerns at this point.

  “Reese?”

  He bent his head closer to her lips. “Mmmmm?”

  “Thank you.”

  He pulled his head away in a sharp movement, looking down at her. “What in the hell for?”

  She must have heard him, because she tugged him closer and spoke into his ear. “I know you were just doing your job, but I’m glad I’m not going through this alone. I’m sorry you’re here because of me.”

  An ache formed in the center of his chest. Damn, here they were about to get done in by Ivan, and she was reassuring him. Apologizing.

  “If I’d done my job, neither of us would be here. Don’t apologize,” he said gruffly. He wondered if he should tell her who had actually sent him here. If they weren’t going to make it, maybe it would bring her some peace to know that her mother cared enough about her to try and protect her.

  He wished now he knew more of the history between them. He thought again of the photo tucked inside the trash bag, stashed somewhere in the small room where they were huddled.

  “Talk to me, Jillian. Take our minds off the storm.” He pulled her closer to him. She moved willingly and he discovered that it bothered him a great deal not to know whether she’d have done the same without the dire threat of the storm hanging over their heads.

  Had another man been hired in his place, would she be in his arms right now?

  He was the on
e going crazy now. And yet he couldn’t ignore the fierce gladness he felt that it was him, not any other man.

  “I’m worried about Cleo,” she said, breaking into his erratic thoughts.

  “Alligators survive hurricanes. She could be all right.”

  “She’ll lose her nestlings.”

  He let his hand drift into her hair, running his fingers through the short length over and over. “She can have more, can’t she?”

  “Hard to say. She gets around okay with three legs. But I can’t know for certain she will mate again.”

  He felt her sigh against him.

  “Was there something special about these particular eggs, Jillian?” He wasn’t sure why he’d asked, just an instinct.

  “Not really. At least, not to anyone else.” A light shudder passed through her slender body. “Oh, Reese,” she sighed, the words coming out all wobbly.

  She was going to cry now? After all that had happened and she was going to cry over some silly eggs? But they weren’t silly to her.

  “Why are they special to you?” he asked gently.

  “She struggled so hard to survive. I really thought I wasn’t going to be able to save her. And then I found out she was pregnant and …”

  “What?”

  “I just couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d pushed so hard so she could lay her eggs.”

  “That’s not all that unnatural, is it? I mean, most animals’ driving force is to reproduce, right?”

  There was a long pause. “Yes, it is.” Her voice had dropped a level or two. It pulled at Reese, making him want to ask her crazy things. Like if she’d ever wanted children. She’d make a great mom, he thought. Better than her own, probably. Certainly better than his. He’d never even let himself think about having a family. His own had been a nightmare of neglect while he watched his parents’ dreams slowly corrode away. A family of his own was a dream he’d never be able to do justice to, so there was no use torturing himself over it.

  “I helped her lay the eggs,” Jillian said at length.

  “You what?” he demanded. “Was she sedated or something?” So help him, if she said no—

  “No, she—”

  He gripped her shoulders. “What in the hell were you doing? You’d be nothing more than a snack to her. And don’t give me any crap about you taming her. You told me you were planning on releasing her and you’d never do that if she’d been anything less than the predator she was born to be.”

  Jillian had stiffened in his arms. He wondered for a half second if she would pull away. He didn’t even think about what his automatic response may have revealed about the way he felt about her.

  Whoa. How did he feel about her?

  His grip tightened. He wasn’t sure. But he did know that for the duration of the storm she wasn’t going to put so much as an inch between them. For now, that would be enough. He’d examine the rest later. If there was a later.

  “When alligators lay their eggs, they are completely focused on it. No outside intrusion breaks in. Normally, I wouldn’t have interfered, but she was having trouble balancing and I was afraid she’d squash the eggs as they came out. So I helped prop her up so they would drop into the nest.”

  Reese let out a deep breath. “Lady, you’re crazy.” He squeezed her in a short, tight hug. “But the animals are sure as hell lucky to have you on their side.”

  “So you understand why I had to stay?”

  There was such hope in her voice, he hated to deflate it. “Not really, Jillian. I know why she’s special to you, but—”

  “I’d made a commitment to her, Reese. More of one than I’ve made in a long, long time. I couldn’t move her. And I couldn’t leave her.”

  Reese lifted her chin, staring down at her in the dark. “Your life is worth so much. Why risk it for one animal?”

  “The same reason you’re here. It’s my job.”

  It was a hell of a lot more than that, he knew. But he also heard the defensiveness in her voice, the dismissal. Whatever reason she’d had for confiding in him had disappeared. But she made no move to leave the shelter of his arms, and he forced himself to be content with that.

  For several long minutes they remained silent, the ominous sounds of the storm raged around them. Reese tried to blank his mind and focus on anything other than the woman in his arms and all the conflicting emotions she’d dredged up in him.

  “What about you, Reese?”

  No, was his immediate response. Absolutely not. He’d made it a habit never to talk about himself. But this denial went deeper. Some part of him knew that Jillian Bonner was a threat. A threat to his privacy? Definitely. A threat to his innermost boundaries? The ones that kept the entire world at a safe, impersonal distance? A distance that made his job easier? Maybe even one that guaranteed he’d never end up like his parents?

  Oh yeah.

  And the very idea that he’d let her get close enough to even be considered a threat rocked him to his very core.

  “What do you want to know?” he asked, his voice rough with the effort to sound casual.

  “Tell me about Australia.” She ducked her head slightly. “I think I could listen to you talk for hours,” she added shyly.

  His chest tightened, and the ache that was centered lower and deeper inside him grew. “Hours? You’ll be disappointed then.”

  “The strong, silent type, huh?”

  Her teasing tone did amazing things to his pulse rate.

  “Not much to talk about.”

  “What part of Australia are you from? Surely you can part with that much of yourself.”

  Her perception shook him up a bit. And he had the oddest urge to tell her whatever she wanted to know. Tempted, for the first time since childhood, to share something of himself, to risk giving a piece of himself away. To her.

  Dangerous thoughts. And it was precisely that sort of danger he’d avoided by avoiding intimacy on anything but the basest level. Physical. Primal.

  Not mental. Never emotional.

  “Western Australia in a place called Broome. It’s a pearling town on the northwest coast.”

  “Pearls? That’s pretty tough work, isn’t it?”

  Reese smiled. “Most women would be in rapture over the romantic aspects of pearls. You only see the hard, rough side.”

  “Yes, well, most beautiful things come from ugly, harsh beginnings.”

  Reese placed his hands on her face and lifted it to his. “Like you, mite?”

  “I’m hardly beautiful.”

  “On the contrary, I think you’re the most truly beautiful person I’ve ever met.”

  “Reese, don’t—”

  “Shhh.” He ducked his head and did what he’d been wanting to do almost since the instant their lips had parted. It seemed like centuries ago.

  A groan surged into his throat as he took her mouth. Damn she was sweet and sensual in ways he’d never dreamed a woman could be. Never had he wanted someone so strongly, felt the need to bury himself inside a woman so desperately. It was as if there was far more to be joined than just their bodies.

  It was a connection so unique, so tantalizing he couldn’t resist going after it.

  He slanted his mouth across hers and took the kiss deeper. His hands framing her face gentled, and he let his fingers plunge into her hair, then drop down to her shoulders.

  He felt the trembling in her, felt her grab at his shoulders as if she were hanging on for dear life. And yet he couldn’t stop, didn’t want to know she might not be feeling what he was feeling. What he’d never felt before.

  He slid his tongue into her mouth, filling it, tasting her, wanting more. So much more.

  She moaned and moved against him in a way that removed all doubt from his mind. She was with him. Body, mind, soul. And spirit.

  What a tremendous spirit she had. Her tongue dueled with his, demanding entry into his mouth where she ravaged him as he’d ravaged her. She wanted, she took.

  He capitulated willingly, stunne
d by how deeply her needs moved him, motivated him to give her whatever she sought, praying like hell he had it to give.

  He pulled her under him, rolling half on top of her in the small, cramped space provided by the short stack of boxes. He continued to duel with her mouth, taking turns controlling the kisses they were sharing.

  He slid his hands from her shoulders to her waist, pulled her up against him, needing some contact between the softness of her and the hardness of him. And dear God had he ever been this hard? His big hands covered her stomach, and he lifted himself enough to pull her shirt from the waistband of her jeans.

  Her arms were twined around his neck, urging him not to break the delicious contact of their hungry lips. He struggled to comply. She was so much smaller than him, it was hard to bend his body to reach all the places he wanted to reach.

  He finally broke off the kiss, needing to explore the rest of her. She groaned her disapproval, then sucked in a sharp breath when he pushed her shirt up.

  “Reese.” The whisper was harsh. She stiffened.

  He scooted down so his face was even with her torso and dropped his head to kiss her flat stomach. “Let me, Jillian.”

  “But I’m—” Her words were cut off on a gasp as he bared her breasts.

  “Shhh.” More than anything in the world Reese wished they’d left the battery lantern on. But he was too caught up in his discovery of her to search for it now.

  His hands moved up and covered her breasts completely. Jillian squirmed under his touch. “Mmmmm,” Reese groaned. “Exquisite.”

  “There’s …” She broke off as he started a light massage. “Not much there,” she finished on a gasp.

  “Maybe not,” he answered, tweaking her nipples gently into even tauter peaks. “But it’s like pearls; it’s not always the size, but the perfection.” He dipped his head and took one of her nipples into his mouth, then moved to the other one. On a soft groan he laid his head between her breasts. “And I’d say these are top quality.”

  She’d stiffened under his gentle assault, even as she moaned and writhed. Only now did she relax under him. When he felt her hands tentatively touch his hair, then move more assuredly against his scalp, he sighed deeply.

 

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