Night Music

by Linda Cajio

  Devlin walked inside. Hilary shut the door and instantly felt trapped. She had to force herself to turn around and face him.

  He was wearing jeans and a soft chambray shirt, whose blue color intensified the startling contrast of his blue-green eyes and tanned skin. Rather than suppress, the clothes contributed to the sensuality he always exuded. She felt light-headed and more confused than ever. She walked past him and into her living room.

  “I’ve thought about where we should go,” he began, following her. “Somewhere that the grandparents would enjoy, feel comfortable in. So I eliminated Hedonism One and Two. However, a cruise would be ideal. You said you didn’t get seasick on a cruise—”

  “Devlin,” she interrupted. “We need to talk about something else. Please, sit down.”

  Eyeing her warily, he sat on her sofa. To her surprise, he didn’t slouch like the first time. She sat in a chair opposite him.

  “I’m not going away with you,” she said, folding her hands on her lap. “I’m not doing any more of this matchmaking. It’s over.”

  “But why?” he asked.

  He looked shocked, and that surprised her too. She had her answer ready, though. “Because we’re not making progress with them. We’re kidding ourselves that they’ll ever get together. They’re both too set in their ways. It’s over, Devlin. We made a valiant try, but it’s over.”

  “One lousy fishing trip is not a valiant try!” he argued.

  “It’s hopeless. Let’s just admit it and be done.”

  “Has my grandmother talked to you this morning?” he asked.

  “No,” she said, puzzled. “Not since we left the dinner party. Why?”

  “No reason.” He stood up and began to pace the room. “Look, Hilary, I think our grandparents are worth all the effort we can put into them.” He stopped in front of her chair and gazed down at her. “I think if we get them into a setting where they can’t retreat to their respective corners as usual … where they’re forced into each other’s company over a period of time … they’ll have to deal with each other. They’ve been lonely for a lot of years, too many years. Your grandfather’s sinking into a deep depression: You said so yourself. Think of this as one all-out, last-ditch effort.”

  He looked so earnest, so pleading, that her heart flipped over. She forced herself to be strong. “Devlin, really. Nothing’s worked so far—”

  “Exactly!” he broke in. “Hilary, I’ve been … selfish about a lot of things. For a lot of years. I’d like to make it up … to a lot of people. My grandmother’s one of them.”

  “I understand how you feel,” she said slowly, trying to find the proper words. His own words nearly broke her willpower. “There are things I would like to make up to my grandfather. But there are things we can’t make up. This is one of them.”

  “When the hell did you turn into me?” he asked, his hands clenching. “Dammit, you’re not giving things a chance—”

  Hilary couldn’t stand it. She jumped up and started to walk out of the room. “I can’t! I just can’t!”

  Devlin was after her, grabbing her arm and spinning her around before she reached the doorway. “Why can’t you? I don’t understand.…”

  His voice trailed away as he stared into her eyes. Emotions, uncontrollable and irrepressible, ran through her. His body was so close to hers, the air between them felt squeezed.

  “What’s the problem, Hilary?” he asked, awareness glowing in his eyes. “This?”

  His mouth covered hers.

  Nine

  Her mouth was soft, incredibly soft, even though he’d taken her by surprise. A man could easily lose himself in her and not resurface for days, Dev thought, pulling her closer. It was always like this with her.

  As he’d looked into her eyes, he’d known what the problem was. It was her. She wanted him, and she was afraid of what he stirred in her. Even now her hands were clutching his upper arms, ready to push him away. But she didn’t. She pressed her body more tightly to his.

  He wanted her with an intensity that shocked him. He wanted everything with her.

  She pulled back when he would have deepened the kiss, turning her face away and unintentionally exposing the creamy flesh of her neck. He couldn’t resist and planted tiny, almost biting kisses just under her ear, then soothed them away with his tongue.

  She gasped, her nails digging into his muscles. The pleasure-pain they created was potent.

  “Devlin, please.”

  “What do you want me to please?” he murmured against her warm skin. Why had he ever thought her cold?

  “I don’t know,” she whispered back. Her hands crept up around his shoulders. “I shouldn’t. I can’t.”

  “Hilary, this isn’t for show,” he said, lifting his head and looking straight into her eyes. “The hell with the show. This is for us.”

  The moment the words left his mouth, he knew they sounded like a line, one of many he’d used without compunction on women in the past. He meant them this time, though, and he had the sinking feeling they would cause the rejection he was desperate to avoid.

  A shudder ran through her, then her lips were on his again. Their tongues instantly mated, swirling together in a frenzy of need. His head spun with the sensations she created, and his blood pulsed thickly through his veins. He ran his hands down her spine, wanting to protect her and yet crush her to him at the same time. The way Hilary responded, beyond anything he had a right to expect, was a constant amazement for him. With each new thing he discovered about her, he was bound to her even more. She generated a lot of emotional bonds without even trying, and much as he had fought them, he hadn’t been able to stop them. A deep satisfaction ran through him at the notion.

  Every coherent thought flew out of his head as a little moan escaped her. He reached up and knotted his hands in her hair, pulling her head back and deepening the kiss even more. Minutes seemed to stretch into eternity as the sweet taste of her became his only focus. But then the need to touch skin, flesh to flesh, grew desperately.

  “The bedroom,” he gasped, burying his face in her hair. He tried to regain enough control to make their lovemaking proper, to take care of her. This was Hilary, and he wanted it perfect.

  “No … here … now,” she murmured.

  “What?” He hadn’t heard right, he thought dimly.

  “Please, Devlin.” Her mouth was on his again, like a white-hot fire.

  “But …”

  Without another word she pulled him down to the living room floor.

  Protests and questions were on his lips, but he resisted the urge to say them. He didn’t know what had happened to the Ms. Prim Hilary he knew, but he didn’t want the magic to stop.

  Clothes disappeared in a fumble of fingers. He touched her everywhere, kissed her everywhere, grateful for the gift she was giving him. Her skin was soft, softer than he’d ever imagined. Her breasts fit his hand as if made for him, the nipples tight with her need. He traced them with his tongue, teased them with his lips, pulled first one, then the other into his mouth, tasting the honeyed flesh. He traced the curves of her body, and the satiny feel of her skin drove his control to the breaking point.

  Hilary clawed at him, giving herself up to the sensations Devlin created within her. A primitive wildness rampaged through her, and she couldn’t stop, even if she wanted to. And she didn’t. Not now, not ever. All her resistance had evaporated the moment he looked at her and knew what she was trying to deny. She had known, too, that he’d meant it when he said this was just for them. Those words had broken the final barrier for her. Their desire had grown despite the way they fought each other, and neither of them could resist any longer. She had never taken any true risks in her life. She had never wanted to—until now. It might be, just might be, that Devlin felt the same way she did. She couldn’t risk not having that. She couldn’t wait any longer.

  His hands sparked a blinding heat as his mouth lifted her to the brink of sensual insanity. His skin was like smooth, hard st
eel beneath her hands. She delighted in the feel of the dark, silky hair that covered his chest, and she traced the line of it down beyond his waist. She tested her hands against the firm muscles of his thighs, the rougher hair of his legs almost tickling the sensitive flesh of her palms.

  His fingers caressed her thighs, then found the inner softness of her, stroking her until she was groaning and writhing with her need of him. It was instinctive for her to give him the same kind of pleasure, to feel the same kind of need in him. The unique scent of him filled her nostrils, imprinted itself forever on her brain. She could taste his heat on her lips. Just when she thought she would explode from denial, he pulled her under him and plunged inside her.

  She gasped at the way every inch of them fit perfectly together … at the rightness of it. Nothing had ever felt so right before. He buried his face in her neck. His lips were feverish on her skin, his breath hot and rasping. They moved together instantly, triggered by the same internal signals. They ebbed and flowed as one, the love swirling in and out as they surrendered to the eternal intimacy that bound man and woman to each other. Hilary clung to Devlin, and he clung to her, as emotions and need clashed together in a final crescendo, bringing them to the quiet peace of oblivion.

  Long minutes later Hilary became aware of Devlin’s body lying heavily on hers and the total contentment his weight brought. Nothing but contentment, she thought with a lazy smile.

  “You shock the hell out of me sometimes,” he said, his voice muffled as he kissed her neck. “Every time.”

  “Thank you,” she said primly, then laughed.

  He laughed with her, and their laughter grew. They held each other tightly, sharing the release their amusement brought. Eventually it subsided, and they lay quietly together, the intimacy complete. Whatever regrets or doubts Hilary might have felt had dissipated. She wasn’t going to think of them any longer, she decided, knowing she was long past the danger mark. She would just take what was offered. For a man like Devlin, sometimes that was all there was.

  “I suppose I ought to be a gentleman,” he finally said, and rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him.

  She crossed her arms over his chest, her fingers absently toying with the dark hairs at the base of his throat.

  “Do I have to be a lady now?”

  “Hell, no.” He ran his hands down her back, then sank his fingers into her derriere and pressed her hips to his. “You can always be very bad with me.”

  “Good.” She stretched up and kissed him lightly on the lips, the motion leaving him gasping for breath. Then she kissed the side of his mouth, his jaw. She traced his jawline with her tongue, feeling the slight scratch of a whisker or two that he’d missed shaving that morning.

  Devlin growled and urgently brought her mouth to his.

  “By the way, did you have anything to do today?” Dev asked. It was nearly two o’clock and they were in her kitchen, the need for food having finally overcome the need for love. She was dressed in his shirt and her underwear. Wearing only his jeans, he leaned against a counter, rubbed his naked chest, and decided she looked sensational.

  “No. Did you have anything to do?” Hilary asked, opening the refrigerator door. She bent over to get something from the back of the fridge.

  “Don’t do that!” he exclaimed, as desire, sudden and fierce, pounded through him at her innocent stance. Their lovemaking had clearly opened a sensual Pandora’s box, one he hoped would never close.

  She turned around. “What? You don’t want leftover lamb?”

  “No.” He grinned. There was no sense telling her what she did to him. She might not do it anymore. “I’m hungry enough to eat the lion too.”

  She laughed. “I do have a hunter’s recipe—”

  “Never mind,” he said quickly. He wouldn’t put it past her to whip up a predator’s stew. “Haven’t you ever heard of junk food?”

  “My grandfather asks me that.” She walked over to the stove and he watched her do ordinary things with that natural elegance only she had.

  “You are going away with me,” he announced, suddenly remembering his real reason for coming to see her that morning. Then he added cautiously, “Aren’t you?”

  She smiled at him. “I suppose I have to. You’ll drag me away in a caveman tactic if I don’t.”

  He chuckled. “Probably.”

  She turned back to the food. “Why is your boat called the Madeline Jo?”

  His stomach knotted in sudden tension. What would she think of him after he told her what had happened so long ago? Her opinion of him mattered more than he wanted to admit. He didn’t care if everyone else in the world thought he was a bastard, so long as Hilary didn’t. There was a time when he would have thought it impossible to care, and now it seemed impossible not to.

  He walked up behind her and touched her hair, stroking it away from her face. Leaning forward, he rested his chin on her shoulder. “I named it the Madeline Jo to remind myself that I once was very stupid and it cost someone his life, and to remind myself never to be so stupid again.”

  “Tell me.” The words were simple, quiet.

  And so he told her everything about that summer, more than he’d thought of in years. She listened without interruption, then turned around in his arms when he was finally finished. She put her hands on his shoulders.

  “Get with it, Devlin,” she said, though not without some sympathy. “It was an accident, pure and simple. And it’s past time to let the guilt go and stop punishing yourself and everyone else for it.”

  He gaped at her. “You think that’s what I’ve been doing? Have you ever been responsible for someone’s death?”

  “No.” She smiled a gentle smile. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t have some objectivity about it. You can’t change the past or bring anyone back. And you’ve atoned long enough. You’ve more than earned the right to move on with your life.”

  “But I like my life,” he said. “I don’t want to go back.”

  “Then don’t. Just be happy with yourself.”

  Her words disturbed him, shuddering through the foundation of his world. He hadn’t wanted her to lose the feelings she had toward him, but he hadn’t expected her to take him to task for doing the right thing for too long.

  She kissed him. “You never did answer my question.”

  “What question?” he asked absently. Her breasts were pressing into his chest and her hands were caressing his shoulders, distracting him from memories of the past.

  “Did you have anything to do today?”

  “Just a charter or two …” Her mouth was on his collarbone, evoking sensations that blocked coherent thought. “How long’s this stuff gonna take to cook?”

  She reached around behind her. He heard the click of the oven being turned off. “A long time.”

  “I won’t hurt you,” he said, feeling the need to make that promise. Hilary had let her barriers down with a clang, and he knew the trust she’d given him that day. He would never abuse it. He couldn’t.

  She nestled closer to him in answer. He held her tightly, just held her, and then the primitive urges started all over again, even stronger this time. When he would have led her upstairs to the bedroom, she stopped him.

  “I saw this movie once,” she murmured. “Bull Durham. They made love on the kitchen table.…”

  Dev immediately turned and swept the bowl of flowers from the kitchen table. “Just keep shocking the hell out of me,” he said as he pulled her down onto it.

  “I promise.”

  And she did.

  “Finally,” Devlin said as Hilary curled up against him under the covers of her bed, “in the bed, like all good couples should.”

  “So you’re saying I’m a wanton,” she said, pleased with the idea. She felt lethargic and content and incredibly sensual.

  “Absolutely,” he replied, sounding lethargic and content and incredibly sensual too.

  It was after lunch, at last, and they were supposed to be taking a nap
. She had a feeling they wouldn’t get that far. At least, she hoped so.

  She was glad that she now knew the real reason for his boat’s name. It was none of the unrequited-love fears she’d had. She also understood much better why he tried to keep people at a distance—a great distance. Just as he had said he would never hurt her, she vowed never to hurt him. A little voice reminded her that while she didn’t want to hurt him because she loved him, he didn’t want to hurt her because he didn’t.

  As she mulled over that unpleasant bit of reality, Devlin began to chuckle.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked.

  “I was just thinking of what your grandfather would say if he saw us like this.”

  She giggled. “I think he’d be speechless.”

  “I think he’d go, ’round the bend.” He began to laugh. “And my grandmother. Did I tell you she’s decided we’re unsuitable after all? She told me that last night.”

  “Last night …?” Hilary thought back to his visit of the night before, when he’d been furious with Lettice. It seemed like ages ago, “But she thought we were a good idea in the beginning, when she thought she was matchmaking us. Why would she change her mind?”

  “Hell, who knows?” He shrugged. His amusement hadn’t faded, though, since he chuckled again. “She was dead wrong, wasn’t she?”

  Somehow his words weren’t reassuring. Instead they set off a vague warning bell inside Hilary. She frowned.

  “Do you remember that first dinner?” he asked. “Did you want me as much as I wanted you when you were stabbing me with your spoon?”

  She smiled. “I must have. I was so angry with you.”

  “And I was a complete gentleman.” He grinned wolfishly. “More fool I.”

  “Serves you right.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t go on a deadly dull cruise. Hedonism One and Two are more and more appealing.”

  “What are Hedonism One and Two?”

  He shook his head. “Hilary, Hilary, Hilary. It’s an all-adult resort. Single adults.”