by Ann Major
His shadow fell across her frightened face, as he caught her wrist and drew her into the hard circle of his arms.
“J-just what do you think you’re doing?” she whispered.
“I’m turning on the charm so I can have everything my own way,” he murmured huskily. “Thanks for the suggestion.”
He brought her close against his body. He was dry and hot, fully clothed; she was wet and warm, and nearly naked.
He held her tightly, not caring that she ruined his silk shirt and wool cashmere slacks. For an instant she was too stunned by the magnitude of what he was doing to react, and then it was too late because she was responding to him as she always had. She felt keenly alive, on the edge of something wonderful and incredibly exciting. She’d been starved so long for the thrill of his lovemaking that she could not resist him.
Tilting her face so that the moonlight fell across it and he could see it properly, he very gently smoothed the damp strands of hair from her eyes. “When I stood there watching you swim, I knew you wanted to be alone. I knew I’d driven you here. I told myself to go, that you didn’t want me, that you’d never wanted me.” His voice was desperate, agonized. “But I didn’t have the strength; I never have where you’re concerned. There’s never been anyone else for me.”
Some part of her wanted to believe him. The past, his betrayal and all the lies and secrets were as nothing. All that mattered was the terrifying emotion in her heart.
She could not stop herself from smiling at him, an achingly sweet smile that must have touched him to the heart because the smile that answered hers was just as sweet in its own masculine way.
“All week I’ve wondered if you could ever be soft and gentle in my arms again,” he murmured. “I’d almost given up hope.”
“I’m sorry,” she heard the alien, dreamy creature who now possessed her body reply.
Amy stared wordlessly at him as his finger tilted her chin even more, and he bent his golden head to hers and brushed a velvet kiss across her mouth.
The touch of his mouth was heady. She felt dizzy, and her hands slid from his chest to his shoulders to steady herself. The feel of his mouth, firm and hot against hers, the softness of his shirt beneath her fingers, the warmth of his body against her own sent a quiver of bewildering sensation through her.
She drew a quick breath and tentatively dared to kiss him back. Nicholas had already begun to pull away when he felt the faint movement of her lips beneath his. He stood statue-still, his eyes darkening as they met hers. Then something over which he had no control seemed to break inside him, and he crushed her to him fiercely, bending his mouth to hers with more determination than before, his kisses harder this time, and hotter.
His arms tightened around her, drawing her up against himself until they were pressed so closely together that it seemed the flame of his body would burn them into one.
His mouth moved against hers, his tongue moist and seeking as it slid between her parted lips, tasting the molten flesh of her lower lip before nibbling it and sucking it inside his own mouth. Then his tongue slid deeper, and Amy’s knees turned to butter as the hot, dark night seemed to revolve around her.
She was drowning; she was dying. And for the first time in years she was really alive.
He was bending her backward, and Amy had to cling tightly to his neck. His tongue touched hers, mated with it, tantalized it. Passionately Amy returned the intimate caress.
Against her flattened breasts she could feel the sudden thunder of his heart. She no longer knew what she did; what he did. She only knew that her tongue was in his mouth, tasting the pleasant warm flavor that was his alone. That his great body was trembling, and suddenly so was hers.
She was hardly conscious of what he did after that, so seduced was she by the ecstasy of sensation his mouth aroused. His hand slid to her breast, shaped it expertly, his fingers brushing against her nipple until it grew rigid. The exquisite pleasure of his touch rippled in hot fluid waves through every part of her.
She stiffened. He was the enemy. Her eyes flashed opened. But was he? Had Lorrie lied? Oh, had he?
Nick kissed Amy again. Whatever he had done, he was her love, and she could not fight him. The same tide of passion sweeping him, swept her.
One taste from the cup of desire and she had to drink more deeply.
Her arms tightened around his neck. Her lashes, fluttered shut, and she was ready to surrender heart and soul to the man she’d despised for more than six years.
When he finally released her, Amy swayed against him. She opened her eyes. Her lips felt moist and swollen from his kisses. Her heart was racing at an unnatural rhythm. She didn’t know what to do or say.
Slowly he untied her bikini top, and it fell soundlessly to the tile floor beside her towel.
His dark soft eyes raked her body where her smooth shoulders flowed into lush breasts. “My wife, my darling,” he whispered. “You are so beautiful.” His hand skimmed lightly over her breasts. Then he caressed her narrow waist and her taut flat belly. His touch was ecstasy. His low voice mesmerized her. “It seems incredible that a body as perfect as yours has ever given birth to a child. To my child.”
To Amy the reverently spoken words seemed part of her worst nightmare. Her curved palm flew to her lips, and she gave a little cry of mingled pain and horror. With that single sentence, he broke the spell that had bound her to him, and the past with all its shame and bitterness came back to her.
Though she loved him and he was her husband, he could never be her lover. Never again. Without bothering to retrieve her towel or the bra of her bikini, she turned and ran.
He was too stunned by her reaction to do anything other than watch her slender form slip away and disappear in the shimmering darkness.
Eight
The bedroom door opened, cracking the stillness. Amy leaped to her feet as if she’d been shot.
“Nick?” Her voice was breathy, terrified.
He made no answer. There was only darkness and silence.
She didn’t dare make another sound. She had been too upset to think that he might follow her, too upset to remember to lock her door.
Nick paused at the threshold, one large hand on the frame. His gaze was fixed on Amy, his heavy eyes shuttered to conceal their expression.
Amy’s breath caught in her throat. Would he be furious or tender? Loving or brutal?
He moved inside and shut the door. She heard the metallic snapping of the bolt as it slid into place. In the darkness he seemed immense.
Amy ran her tongue over her dry lips. She felt the perspiration bead her brow as she shrank back against the bed. Her trembling fingers pulled the warm velvet robe protectively around her naked body.
He came nearer. “Why did you run?” His voice fell softly rather than threateningly, and yet that only made him seem all the more dangerous.
“Because,” she gasped. “Oh, Nick. I can’t tell you! I— I... I should never have kissed you that way. I should never have led you on.”
“But you did.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. And this time I’m not going to let you run away.”
He strode silently across the room, and pulled her from the bed into his arms. Her wet black hair spilled down the back of her velvet robe, dampening the thick cloth with cold rivulets of water.
“What are you so afraid of?” he demanded.
“I can’t tell you—ever.”
“Damnation, woman!” he erupted furiously, bitterly, yanking her against his body. “You’re enough to try the patience of a saint. And heaven knows, I’m no saint.” His fingers dug into her arms, and he shook her until her teeth rattled. “Tell me. Was having my baby alone so awful?”
She merely stared at him helplessly, terrified. His expression seeming to blaze in the darkness, was infinitely tender. Surely no man could look at a woman like that and not be sincere.
“If only you’d told me, I would have been there,” he said.
Had Lorrie lied about him? About everything?
Fear knotted Amy’s stomach. Never had she felt more terribly confused. Had she wronged Nick more horribly than any man ever deserved to be wronged?
Deeply ashamed, she felt close to tears; strong, proud Amy who almost never wept. Oh, if she’d been wrong, she’d never be able to face him.
For an instant he was so stunned he didn’t know what to do. At the sight of tears filling her eyes, the fierce red haze of emotion that had driven him to treat her so brutally died. His breathing slowed and his rough hands gentled.
A terrible guilt assailed him. He had ruined her life by making her pregnant, by forcing her into a marriage she didn’t want, by refusing her a divorce. Tonight, he’d used force again. She didn’t want him. She never would. He loathed himself for having brought the woman he loved so much pain.
Softly, soothingly, he spoke her name. “There, there, darling. Shh, Amy, sweetheart,” he murmured, sliding his fingers through her flowing wet hair, stroking her back.
“Oh, Nick,” she whispered, clinging to him tightly, forgetting for the moment her need to fear him. “If only I could have found the strength to stop loving you. If only... Why did you have to come back?”
He hesitated, staring down at her in wonder, only half believing what he heard. Loving... She had said she loved him.
After an endless moment she felt his lips on her eyes, kissing away her tears, and slowly her sobs subsided until she rested quietly against him.
As she calmed, he grew aware of her body against his. Her robe had come loose, and only his clothes lay between his skin and her naked body. He could feel her soft breasts pressed against his shirt. He could feel her nipples tighten. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. He could feel it.
They were alone, together, in her bedroom. A man and a woman, and neither had had a mate for two years.
He still couldn’t believe the marvel of what she’d admitted. She didn’t hate him as he’d feared in his most agonized moments of doubt. She loved him.
“Whatever I’ve made you suffer, you have to believe that I came back because I wanted to help you,” Nick said. “Triple nearly died, and you were all alone. Can’t you see that I’ll do everything in my power to help you? Whatever it is that’s wrong between us, if you’d only tell me what it is, we could work it out. I shouldn’t have blamed Lorrie earlier today. I know things aren’t that simple.”
“No...” The word was a low choked sob. “The only thing you can do is to leave me alone and accept the fact that we can’t have a relationship.”
“You can’t mean that you still want a divorce?”
“Y-yes.”
“Look at me, darling,” Nick commanded.
Unhappily she lifted her chin an inch, knowing there was no way she could conceal her love for him. It was still shining in her eyes. Gently his hand turned her face to his. His gaze was deep and dark as he accurately read her desperately vulnerable expression. A triumphant smile parted his lips.
“Even though you love me, you want to end our marriage?” he said, incredulous.
“Y-yes.”
“Not until I know why.”
With a sob she lowered her head. More than anything she longed to seize Triple and have the three of them run away somewhere where they could start over. But even that wouldn’t work. The past with its secrets and lies would always be there to haunt them, to destroy them. “It’s not something I can explain,” she said tautly.
“Can’t you see that you’re asking an awful lot?”
“There’s too much against us.” Her voice quivered with defeat. “We never had a real marriage anyway. You only married me because of Triple. And I only married you because you forced me to. You threatened that paternity suit. You...”
She could feel his muscles tighten; an icy tension froze her heart.
“I remember everything I did then, and I won’t give up now, no matter what you say or do,” he said angrily. His fingers dug into her arms again and he yanked her viciously against his body. “Even if you won’t fight for us, for our happiness, I will.”
“It’s no use, Nick. There are too many lies. Too...” She stopped herself.
“What are you talking about?”
She buried her face in his shoulder.
He knew of only one weapon to combat her stubborn resistance, and that weapon was his love. His hand traced the length of her slender throat, turning her face once more toward his. She seemed to stop breathing as his gaze explored the lovely radiance of her frightened face. She had expected some harsh argument from him but instead she felt herself being irresistibly drawn by his tenderness.
She felt the pressure of his hand against the small of her back as he arched her body into his, and she sighed. Very slowly his mouth took hers, kissing her lightly at first.
Hesitantly her arms lifted around his shoulders. She opened her lips and let his tongue inside. She was so scared she was shaking like a frightened animal. He crushed her against his body. She could feel the thunder of his heart, but it was racing no faster than her own. The pressure of his mouth hardened, deepened. Gently he stroked and caressed her, his fingers sliding over her arms, her waist, down her back.
Wildfire raced through her veins. She felt dizzy. It was as though some part of her were dissolving into him. She was quivering, trembling. As her fingers dug into the wavy golden silk that curled against his collar, he dragged his mouth reluctantly from hers.
“I love you,” he said. “That’s the only reason I married you. Triple was just the excuse I used. I would have done anything to make you mine. My life’s been hell because you wouldn’t have me.”
Amy cried out softly. Then she stared back at him dazedly, feeling aroused, lost, frightened. They had both suffered. She wanted him. Nothing else mattered. Not tonight.
Would she later accuse him of forcing her? He wondered. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He had to have her.
He stared at her for a long tense moment. The drowsy look of sensuality on her face aroused him more than anything. Her lush lips were parted and swollen from his kisses. Her bewildered amber eyes glowed with desire. The soft gentleness of surrender was in her features.
He felt her fingers remove his shirt from his waistband and slide erotically across the warm skin of his belly. Her touch left a tingly trail of fire.
His eyes darkened to a stormy blue. There was passion in his tense, brown face.
She smiled that sweet, shy smile that made his insides melt, looking at him through her thick lashes. Her hands made lazy caressing circles on his brown skin.
His whole body trembled at the warmth of her soft, sensual touch. For an instant his intense gaze devoured the loveliness of her. Then something inside him broke. He’d gone too long without a woman. Without his woman. He needed Amy. He had to have her, or some vital part of him would perish forever.
“Amy. Darling, Amy.” Gently he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her sweetly, tenderly.
He felt her fingers loosening the buttons of his shirt, sliding the shirt from his shoulders. His arms encircled her like an iron band and he crushed her against the hot, naked wall of his chest. Then he picked her up and carried her to the bed. Her robe opened and his body pressed into hers.
He kissed her until she could hardly breathe. He gripped her arms so hard they hurt, yet his fierce passion sent tremors through her as his mouth slid from her lips, down her throat against the pointed nipples that budded when his wet tongue touched them.
At last he stopped kissing her and stood up to remove the rest of his clothes. She watched him with tremulous fascination, unable to tear her eyes from those broad shoulders, from the exquisite maleness of him.
Slowly he helped her slip out of her robe. Then he lowered his body once more to hers. Every inch of him, every nerve seemed to touch her, and she was enthralled by a new throbbingly alive awareness of him.
His mouth devoured hers. His lips touched her throat, hot ag
ainst her flesh. His hands played over her breasts. She excited him, and he had to force himself to go slowly.
Gently he drew her close to his chest and stroked her long flowing hair down over her shoulders. As his caresses grew more intense, her body gradually relaxed against his, and a tiny moan escaped her lips.
When he came into her, gently at first, and then more fiercely, she cried out against his shoulder. He felt her fingernails dig into his skin. Nick forced himself to stop, and he held her closely as he waited for her to grow accustomed to him. He kissed her brow tenderly; then he murmured something low and inaudible against her ear.
He whispered her name. “Amy. Are you all right?”
“Yes.” The single word was a throb of desire that quickened his savage longing. For years he’d lived without her, without this, without any woman, because he wanted no woman but her, and now she was his. As she pressed her hands into the small of his back and drew him closer, he knew he had to find a way to keep her with him always.
Stirred past reason by her acceptance of him, he could restrain himself no longer. He began to move again, driving into her with a wild, urgent force. An answering excitement rose within her, mounting higher and higher as he sought to please her. Her lips half opened, and her teeth came together in a strange agony of delight as a dazzling tide of emotion flamed through her. She clung to him desperately.
He was hot, and she was hot. It was as if their love was a flame and they were consumed by it.
Giving a short, hoarse cry, he thrust inside her one last time, ending the deep hard rhythm, holding her tightly to his body. She clung to him, almost unconscious in her own pleasure as violent sensations exploded in every soft tissue of her being.
For one keen, exhilarating moment they were one.
As she held on to him fiercely, a joy Nick had never known before pierced him. Amy had gone wild in his arms.
Then it was over, and the glorious moment slipped away, dissolving too quickly into a hazy, warm memory of desire. His body loosened its clasp on hers.
