Means To An End

by Carol McPhee

  He shook her vigorously, breaking her fixation on the beckoning depths. She sagged into his arms, thinking he was right—in his arms was where she wanted to be.

  She saw Rand's gaze dart to the other side of the cove—the wharf was deserted. His lungs pulled in rapid breaths of fresh air. He shivered as he picked her up and carried her onto the yacht without protest. When he laid her on the couch, she became more alert.

  "W-What h-happened?"

  Rand stripped off his shirt, not taking his eyes from her face. “You nearly drowned."

  "What are you d-doing?"

  "Come on, we're getting out of our wet things.” He pulled her to her feet. Weak and shaky, her legs refused to cooperate and she slumped against him. Rand quickly unzipped the back of her dress; the garment pooled on the floor. Ignoring the rebellious scrape of her fingers on his arms, he slung her over his shoulder.

  "Put me down!"

  Her shoulder slammed against the doorframe as he whirled to the head of the stairs.

  "Ouch! That hurt!"

  Her yelp brought forth expletives from him, but he continued on. The steps passed in a hypnotizing blur as she hung helplessly over his bare back. Her teeth chattered and although she tried to stop the jarring movement, she met with no success. A bracing of her hands against his damp flesh served only to make her skin tingle.

  "P-Please p-put me d-down.” Her stammer, soft and pleading, made little difference to Rand's determination.

  "In a minute."

  She landed none too gently on the bedcovers’ slippery surface, lucid enough to know she was on his bed—in his Harem room. Lori caught a glimpse of his moving shadow in the dim light entering from the hallway.

  "We've got to get you warm, Lori."

  "I-I'm okay. T-The water wasn't that c-cold."

  "I'm not sure you are okay."

  "I tell you, I'm fine. Just wet.” She bit down hard on her lip. His footsteps padded into the bathroom.

  "Here's a towel.” A pause accentuated his bristling tone as he stood at the threshold and watched her catch it. “Get out of your underwear and dry yourself off, then get under the covers."

  He was still in his command mode. What kind of past experience brought on this automatic reaction? He needn't think he had authority over her just because he'd invited her on the boat.

  "I'll get you a warm d-drink.” His unexpected stammer snagged her attention more than his humiliating orders. She watched him press the light switch sending a soft glow into the room. The smoldering expression on his face startled her. She followed the path of his gaze straight to the shadowed darkness visible through the drenched blue-flowered underwear. He didn't comment. He didn't have to; his eyes said it all.

  Lori clutched the towel in front of her. The room's opulence didn't cause a repetition of the erotic thrill she'd experienced here before; his obvious concern, underscored by his scrutiny, did.

  "I-I'll g-get out of my things when you l-leave.” Her limbs refused to budge. In spite of her inability to think straight, she knew he was right. She was in serious trouble.

  Without help from her, Rand's hands sent her skimpy lingerie tumbling to the floor. She wished she could concentrate on his naked chest, but amidst a rustling discard of his clothes, she had a vague sense of being shoved into oblivion. Within a few minutes, a comforting warmth engulfed her body as she lay in luxury on her side under the sensuous purple and apricot bedclothes. Steamy breath, reminiscent of tropical heat, flooded the back of her neck. Rand's arm pressed against the side of her shoulder, then hesitantly moved over her upper chest. His body, spooned with hers, furnished exactly what she needed—heat and security. She contemplated how dull life would be without feelings, good or bad. It was as if in his clutches she experienced a new sensitivity to the world around her. Rand was that world for now. His body, cradling hers, kindled an inferno. She leaned back into the source. Her trembling subsided.

  The delicate caress pirouetted down her spine. It wasn't a dream after all. The explosion melted all lingering resistance toward his intrusion. Her mind cast aside its sense of propriety to enjoy this long-forgotten pleasure.

  "Your body temperature is rising.” His murmur into her ear unnerved her. She'd been reaching for a wispy cloud she thought she saw. “You had me worried,” he added.

  His lips traced her earlobe; his whisper drifted into her heart. Rand's hand roamed up to her neck and, wandering at will, gently massaged her throat.

  "I'm going to be all right. Really. I'm s-sorry I let myself g-get out of control.” She didn't repel his familiarity, but welcomed it. She arched her neck to give him better access and placed her hand lightly on top of his, not to guide, but to follow where he led.

  "The blame is mine, Lori. I'm the one who's sorry.” He kissed the soft hollows in her shoulder.

  She wanted to feast her eyes on him, drink in every detail of his face and body, but she couldn't turn over; her sobriety might return all too quickly if she detected the least hint of pity. She wanted to indulge in the seductive glory that smothered her loneliness. Most of all, she adored the thrill of being catapulted into a sensuous dream world. She wasn't sure she could face reality. Ever!

  Lori shifted her head slightly, relishing the freshness of the pillow against her cheek. Cool salty air permeated her nostrils and her memory, reminding her of the smell of the brine just before she submerged. “I-I wanted to give up.” Reality struck hard and hurt.

  "You don't know what you're saying."

  "I do, Rand. I want you to know the truth about me.” She hadn't planned to confess her frailties, but she hadn't planned to drown either when she jumped. Both compulsions arose like demons from the hell in her mind. It was too late for her. She was doomed. If not present now, the craving to end her tortuous thoughts might come again. Without warning, her sobs welled uncontrollably from the darkness in her heart.

  "Lori, listen to me.” Rand turned her over. Her eyes immediately fell upon shoulders that were much more intriguing when unclothed. His sincerity and commanding presence grabbed her attention. “You didn't want to die. You held your breath."

  Through a tear-drenched curtain, she scrutinized his solemn face. “I-I heard a voice telling me to hold my breath."

  "It wasn't my voice, although I sent a quick prayer. Somewhere inside, your spirit warned you. You didn't really want to die.” He embraced her tighter.

  His solace offered security she'd been managing without for a long time. Inside her heart, a door opened slightly. Did she dare harbor a tiny hope for support? The kind of support she'd once expected and didn't get from her fiancé? When she'd seen the blame for the accident in his eyes, her assumption had quickly shriveled away. How could she ever trust anyone with her heart again? Yet, she couldn't force Rand to leave.

  "Just hold me, Rand. Please?"

  "My pleasure.” His smooth baritone voice set off another alarm. Did he use these same words with others lured to his love nest?

  She frowned at the siren wailing in the back of her mind, but once again made a conscious decision to ignore it. She needed to pretend he was solid and would stay for her. Her arms wrapped around him; her fingertips pressed eagerly into his back. He made no effort to desert her. She wondered if maybe at last she'd escaped the ruthless torments that pursued wherever she went.

  "Relax, Lori. It's okay. You're safe with me."

  Rand had the ability to read her thoughts and it should have terrified her, but all she wanted was to feel his touch—all over her body. She suppressed her inhibitions; freedom had to rule. The stimulus of his skin against hers urged her onward.

  Her focus centered on the connection of their bodies, swelling her breasts to a pressurized, sensitive fullness. Their hardened nubs peaked and pressed energetically against Rand's own sturdy chest. The erotic sensation wielded its own special power, forcing away thoughts of her near disaster. His strong hairy leg eased slowly over thighs too sensitized to move. A sexual flush through her lower abdomen brought to the
fore an awareness of how much she needed him. The enclosure of his virile body around hers left little to her imagination. When she felt his male response, her toes curled tight; her mind exploded with desire.

  "It's getting hot in here,” she murmured.

  "Hotter than hell. Want me to back off?"

  "No!” The word erupted on a shiver of excitement.

  Lori had no defense from the prod of her hormones; she didn't want one. She wanted him in all of his naked glory. Rand raised his head and she looked deep into eyes gleaming with anticipation and desire. Desire for her.

  He burrowed his arm beneath her neck and tucked her closer. His warm lips ran a course of light kisses across her forehead, ending with a playful nip on the top of her nose. Lori's tongue moved across her dry lips, and without realizing it, she held its position as she memorized the moment his eyes locked with hers. When nothing further happened, she saw he appeared to be waiting for an encouraging response. His pause surprised her, then she understood—he was not prepared to take control of this provocative situation—he expected equal participation.

  This was a challenge more potent than games of chess. A challenge that promised a trip to heaven or complete disintegration of a mystical bond. The fog in her brain vanished as if a sprite had waved a wand decreeing it to do so. Understanding she might later regret her move, she shelved her resistance and rose to the strong beckoning of nature's call.

  "Lori?” As he spoke, her heart hammered in anticipation. “Be sure you want this."

  Her eyes misted. “This is what I need."

  "I was hoping you'd say that.” His eyebrow lifted. “This is more than just about sex."

  I wonder, she pined in silence. The odds are against there being a happy ever after. Her surroundings were blueprinted for sexual play, which would help for now. She wasn't the first, nor would she be the last woman here with him, and probably he wouldn't have second thoughts when she later took off. Yet surely, just this one time she could overlook his criminal background and enjoy pleasures long denied.

  Lori tossed aside her self-doubt. She extended her hands, anxious to run their fingers across his handsome face, to explore each hollowed crevice, each dominant feature. Every line formed from life's experiences magnified as she studied him. She wondered what had caused them within his life of leisure, or had the rough company he kept put them there? Her mind pictured Malcolm's blemished face, then darted to the nagging in her head. With greater effort, she ignored the prodding pestilence begging her to consider Rand's lifestyle.

  Seduced by the irascible lock still damp from his briny dip, her fingers threaded beyond the graying temples to the ebony thickness. She drew his face closer, letting her lips lightly browse the corner of his mouth. His salt-tangy taste whetted her yearning to smother him with her passion. Lori sensed the energy hidden beneath his calm exterior—she wanted to expose it. She'd seen his concern when she was in danger; now, she wanted to see him shine with exuberance when she was in his grasp. For that to happen, she could do no less than become a powerhouse herself.

  The daunting need to know him physically spurred her along an uncharted course. Rand didn't have the submissive personality of her fiancé. When Rand looked at her, it was with eyes filled with secrets. She couldn't decipher what lay behind his questioning glances or his hesitation.

  Their lips met in a whirlpool of excitement that spiraled down her back. Lori gave all she could in their embraces, committing every ounce of passion she'd swept aside. Breathless for his touch and kisses, her hands swirled over Rand's shoulders in containment, then quickly loosened to allow a feverish exploration of his back's muscular expanse. He kissed her as she'd never been kissed before—tender one moment, predatory the next. She knew that in this venture he held nothing back.

  He gently pulled her wrists from behind him, and placing one on each side of her head, he mounted, then deepened the kiss beyond the realm of anything she could imagine. Their exploratory tongues examined the inner reaches of soft moist tissue, of heat, and acceptance. She trembled with the force of giving herself—honestly, completely. She guided his penetration with the wonderment of a virgin. Though she'd passed that threshold long ago, this was a breakthrough that could change her life. She'd never experienced a sexual resolution that involved every ounce of her mind and body. The enthusiasm of her response amazed her. His reaction to it thrilled her.

  Rand brought out the woman she never knew existed inside—the lover who would go to any lengths to please her man. Filmed in a fever-like sweat, their motion built to the apex of everything nature intended and more.

  The thought that he was her target and her aim was to bring him down, evaporated like mist in the warmth of the early morning sun. Only the bliss of naked bodies entwined in each other's arms mattered. The climax was miraculous in itself. She wondered at the power of such a man that could take her to the highest heights. Rand had this control over her. Could he not also take her to the deepest depths? If she developed a craving for permanency with him, she'd be relegated to the depths of despair. But right now, this seemed immaterial when the only craving she had was to sleep in his arms.

  * * * *

  A jarring thud, followed by a mewling scrape, roused Lori from the peace of the first full night's sleep she'd had in a year. A flickering sunbeam flashed into the one eye she opened. Filtering through the trees on the bank, the sun eased above the horizon. She twitched her nose, squinted her eye against the light and stretched. Her foot hit a barrier. A groan escaping from her mouth challenged her to open both eyes.

  Once she adjusted to the buttery rays brightening the room, she glanced upward. Her heart leaped to her throat. Mirrored above were two spooned bodies bared to the waist. One corner of the duvet draped discretely over the woman's navel. She looked familiar. Oh! It can't be ... It is. Me!

  Rand's arm, draped over her ribcage, effectively imprisoned her nakedness while the rest of him unconsciously paraded his glorious nude physique. It was only then she tuned in to the intermittent rock of her cradle. It wasn't a dream—she was still on the Destiny.

  Lori blinked hard, hoping an overwrought, still intoxicated imagination was playing tricks. The messy hair and familiar shapes were easily recognizable when she focused her bleary eyes. The alcoholic haze of last night had dissipated. The scene displayed itself with perfect clarity, jumping out like a glossy, sensuous advertisement from a woman's magazine. Astonished by the sight, she could only stare in fascination. A slight breeze refreshed the room, but it didn't cool the heat rising within her.

  She vaguely remembered awakening once through the night. The gentle rocking of the yacht had lulled her back to sleep. Or was it the proximity of muscled brawn that had soothed her so? Another light sweep of air brushed across her skin and stirred her to full awakening. Rand's muscled thigh firmly enclosed her bare legs. She couldn't draw her eyes from the scene. Thank God, they were still on their sides. The longer she examined every detail, the more enthralled she became. An unruly sexual response starting in the pit of her stomach slammed hard against her consciousness. Nestled in a place only imagined in passionate dreams, she'd never reached this pinnacle before meeting Rand.

  Lori inhaled an invigorating sniff of moist air and continued her study of the ceiling's nested bodies. She couldn't help notice how the forms fit so snugly—like it was absolutely right they be joined. Rand's arm shifted slightly, but didn't stray from its comfort zone. Beneath its weight, her skin ignited. Her breath deserted her when a surge of heat shot unexpectedly through her body.

  Despite her drive to see Rand get his just desserts, the sexual attraction, only hinted at in their companionship, had jacked up its pace without prior warning last night. The overwhelming emotion had latched on with tentacles shamelessly pulling her toward danger. She didn't dare allow herself to be swept into the maelstrom again this morning, but neither could she deny the force of it. The very thought that she'd be better off dead implied she was on the brink of destruction. Ther
e was only this one chance to renew faith in herself. Rand's freedom would have to be sacrificed. With his illicit ventures, he deserved it.

  Lori clenched her teeth, remaining motionless while she waited for an indication Rand was awake, too. He didn't budge. His heavy rhythmic breathing calmed her nerves. She needed time to exercise her brain and figure out how to extricate herself from the situation. She looked down at the bed and, careful not to waken Rand, eased the duvet over their bodies.

  A thousand bongos drumrolled inside her skull: Get ... out ... of ... here! Her mind raced with indecision. Last night she'd been unfaithful to her mind's whispering. Look at what that precipitated. She'd experienced more ecstasy than she'd ever known. A one-shot deal, it was well worth any anguish that might come from it—at least for her.

  Rational thought broke through the hammering in her head. Loyalty to her passionate partner meant little in the scheme of things. In her mind, Rand's mastery at turning a sophisticated, intelligent woman into a harlot negated him taking sexual liaisons seriously. She wondered how often he had these soirées.

  She wouldn't comply with her internal directive nagging her to be honest with him. The stakes were too high. To do so denied her the only chance to prove her resilience. Capitulating to a sexual interlude had been necessary for her own special needs and a weakness she'd have to live with, but it wouldn't help achieve the peace she sought.

  If Sergeant McCormick were here, he'd tell me to continue spying, but from a safe distance. Damn. He was only a mysterious voice on the phone, so why on earth had he thundered into her mind while she lay in Rand's awesome hold?

  Lori concentrated on breathing slowly—in and out, in and out. Plans needed to be formed with a brain that was clear. At all cost, she dare not be seduced by an erotic persuasion that could easily lead to a repeat of last night.

  A fluttering of wings near the porthole drew her attention. A seagull tried to force its way inside. Rand stirred. She held her breath. With luck, he would settle back down until she concocted her strategy for the day.