‘What it could mean,’ she agreed. ‘That’s why I couldn’t say anything. If I’d lost you …’
He heard it in her voice, the first bit of faith. Thank God he’d kept that picture. Seeing it, she’d recognised she hadn’t lost him. ‘All those years, I tried to forget. To be what they wanted.’
Her hand ran up his back. ‘To fit into their ordinary world.’
He nodded. ‘I thought it was me, that I was wrong, a broken puzzle piece.’
‘That’s what they thought. What I thought about me, too.’ Her fingers strummed against his spine, and the hard thrill of it ran through him. ‘You learn to survive.’
Survival. The perfect word for it. ‘Was it better with your family?’
She sighed. ‘Yes and no.’
The rest remained there, hovering between them: the belonging that was neither Jepson nor Larkins, nor even cultural, but Adam and Janie alone.
I should never have walked away from you.
I should never have married Sharon.
He didn’t say it again. He didn’t have to.
She spoke as if she’d heard his thoughts. ‘It wasn’t the time, Adam.’
‘Is it now?’ Dear God, the longing in his voice. The wounds that just wouldn’t heal without her. Don’t leave me, Elle. I don’t know who I am without you.
She touched his face—not even a caress, but leaving her hand on his cheek, as she looked up at him. ‘Yes. It’s time.’ Her eyes were forgiveness and hope and love, no doubt or question, just certainty. Then her finger whispered across his mouth. ‘Tomorrow we are who we’ve chosen to become, we return to that world. But we still have today, here. For now, we have us.’ Watching him, she slipped free a button, two, exposing warm brown cleavage. Another, and his tortured gaze saw breasts free of restraint, warm and soft and ready to fill his hands.
Then she stood naked and proud before him. ‘I claim you as my husband, Adam Jepson. Take your clothes off.’
He was helpless to do anything but obey.
She was already at the net, and he could only follow. After unhooking the net from the ghost gum, they waded into the water, diving under, then coming up out of the cool green depths.
‘Adam…’ Her voice was strained, her gaze riveted to his body. Huntress turned prey. Janie and Adam. Inevitability.
‘Dear God, Elly, you’re beautiful,’ he said, as overcome as she was.
She blushed, staining all the way to her breasts. ‘It always hurts me when other men say that. But you …’
With a thrill of male arrogance for the desire she couldn’t hide, he tipped his head back, beckoning to her. ‘Come.’
She rose like Venus from her shell, robbing him of breath. Her hand moved into his, her eyes serious. He led her into the reed-filled shallows and sank down among them, pulling her close. She straddled him, drinking in his skin with her palms and fingers.
‘I’ve dreamed of this for years—touching you,’ she whispered. ‘It was always you.’
He touched her face—only her face—and she trembled. In everything spoken and unspoken, he knew how much this meant to her. How much he meant to her. He knew, but couldn’t understand. Why him, when she could have so many men?
‘Elly—’ His tongue tripped over itself. ‘You know how much I care about you, that I want to—’
A finger to his lips hushed his faltering speech as she gave him the brave, reckless smile that hurt him so much. ‘Today, tonight, we say what we want to say, and we make love. Tomorrow there’s no regrets, no guilt or shame. We’ll be the best of friends, just like we always were. No regrets.’
His heart constricted at the look in her eyes. The antithesis of pale, angelic, afraid-of-life Sharon, who’d dictated every action by what the family would think, what the neighbours would say, how it looked to others … how she’d face everyone tomorrow. She’d never even thought to take a risk in her life. She’d never known how to think outside her prim little boxed-in world. The ordinary world. The Jepson world.
No wonder Sharon had been so terrified of Elly.
Elly could never belong in the ordinary world—then or now. Her heritage was the least of who she was. Living her life in avid curiosity and joyful adventure, loving him without demand or request from child to woman, she’d taught him to live again without even trying, not once but twice. It made him want to play the knight for her, to risk his life to save hers, to give her the whole damn world on a platter—and risk the most intimate secret he kept.
Tonight he’d take a tigress by the tail. For one night he’d live, and take the consequences when they came.
Rick didn’t need to part the curtains to know his city minders still watched every move he made; their presence crawled beneath his skin. Once his brothers in arms, they’d become the enemy, just as they’d been during his childhood in Broken Hill.
How he’d burned with the injustice of it back then. If his people caused any trouble, the media reported ABORIGINES RIOT, or MORE ABORIGINAL PROBLEMS—and people in town talked of ‘the Aboriginal problem’ for days and weeks. Lately the unwanted spotlight focused on MEN OF MIDDLE-EASTERN APPEARANCE; ‘the Muslim problem’ screamed the headlines. But when the gubbas did it, it wasn’t WHITE MAN ON RAMPAGE WITH A GUN, or WHITE MEN RIOT. Racial accountability became individual accountability for those of northern European descent. Which was why he’d never thought of becoming anything but a cop. The more who took on the system to balance the scales of justice, the better.
Five days ago, he was a respected member of Macks Lake cops, Aboriginal liaison officer for the region, running a local youth group and basketball team—one of the good guys. Then he’d seen Elly’s lovely, laughing face, cracking jokes to hide the terror … and he knew her, knew what she needed as even Adam did not.
He knew what he had to do now. He was ready. Everything was in place. He had to go on with it now. There was no turning back.
CHAPTER
16
The words of absolution on her lips faltered as Adam showed her his naked need. Her eyes came alive with joy.
He kissed her gently, mindful of her bruised lip, but, impatient with his restraint, she broke his barriers with a gentle touch of her tongue on the roof of his mouth. Their mouths meshed, bodies slipping against each other as they pulled closer in tearing hunger. Her legs locked around his hips and her hands were everywhere, tender yet urgent as they played over his skin, arousing him so bad he couldn’t think. Wanting to take her then and there, in the slippery coolness of the river. Almost did—then he thought, This is Elly. In the past, he’d been too thoughtless with her. He couldn’t let their first time be so selfish.
‘Let’s go inside,’ he murmured in her ear.
She pulled back with a hand over her breast, covering the branding she’d received at the hands of a madman. Her gesture, the self-hate and belief she’d only disappoint him, had never hurt him more.
‘Elly, don’t hide from me. Your scar doesn’t turn me off any more than I think my scar would for you.’ His hands parted his chest hair to reveal a small but almost lethal welt, the eternal legacy of his brush with death.
Her eyes darkened at the sight. Then she leaned forward to kiss the scar, slow and tender.
‘Mmm. Good idea.’ He moved along the whole warped line of her scar with slow, intimate kisses.
‘Oh, Adam, th–thank you …’
He smiled at her, the sheen of tears in her eyes luminous, joyful. ‘My pleasure entirely, I assure you, ma’am.’
Her hands fell from his body, her legs from his waist. She stood and held out her hand, a warrior queen from the Dreamtime. ‘Come inside, Adam.’
Suddenly he felt clumsy, inept, a fumbling youth asked to bed a goddess. Could she find him anything but inadequate? ‘I don’t have protection, Elly. I didn’t have time—’ He clicked his tongue, and told the truth. ‘I was too bloody embarrassed to start fresh gossip about us in Macks Lake, and there was no time to go anywhere else.’
‘So?’
Her smile was beauty and shadow, joy and pain. ‘Can you believe the thought of having your child would be unwelcome to me?’
The raw honesty of her answer left him speechless.
She held out her hand. ‘Claudius,’ she said softly, one word blending past and present, woman and child, best friend and lover. ‘Come inside.’
The shadows lengthened as they entered the cabin. She struck a match and lit the old kerosene lamp hanging from a nail. ‘The bed’s broken. It’ll never hold our combined weight.’
‘We can’t risk it anyway—it might squeak.’
She giggled, and the image of a goddess splintered. She was real, a warm, living woman—a woman who wanted him. ‘And that would bother you?’
He hated to remind her. ‘We have to listen for outside sounds, Elle.’
Her smile faded. ‘It’s good I cleaned the rug, then. It should be dry by now.’ She walked out, and came back in with the blanket and rug. ‘Clean and dry.’
He lifted the broken door, securing it against the frame with the picnic hamper. Then he lay with her, taking her in his arms. She searched his eyes, sensing his inner turmoil. ‘What is it?’
Was he man enough to say it, or too much of a man to admit it? Oh, damn, this was awkward and beautiful, raw and terrifying. He dragged in a breath. ‘It’s been a long time for me.’
Then he remembered all his fears and doubts about her staying with him in Macks Lake, and the only solution he could come up with. ‘I brought you something.’ Without waiting for her to ask why the hell he’d bring it up now, he reached into his jeans pocket. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t have time to get a box, or wrap it.’ He held it out to her, thrusting it at her like a schoolboy handing his first date a corsage.
She looked down and her eyes widened, her mouth falling open. ‘Is this—what—?’
‘Yes. It’s Grandma’s wedding ring. She left it to me.’ Before she could answer, or reject it, he blurted, ‘You said we could do what we want tonight. I want to give this to you.’
She didn’t look up. ‘Did … she …?’
‘Grandma never said so, but I know she wanted you to have it. She left you a letter, saying how much she loved you, how sorry she was to send you away,’ he said, aware that he was babbling, but he had to stop her from finishing the question. One mention of his wife’s name now might break him—and then he’d break her. ‘I’ve kept both of them for years, waiting to give them to you.’
Her mouth twitched as she looked up at him, eyes brimming with laughter. ‘And you chose to give it to me when we’re both naked?’
He saw the idiocy of it now. He should have taken her out to dinner, ordered wine, given her flowers—anything but this. ‘I’m so stupid. I’m sorry, Elly, I—’
‘No. It’s perfect,’ she whispered. ‘There couldn’t be a better time and way. It’s us.’ And she smiled at him, luminous with joy. ‘It’s Elly and Claudius.’
Relief flooded him; he’d got something right for her. ‘Yes, it is. See?’ He tilted the ring so she could read the engraving on the inside: Elly and Claudius.
Tears spilled over. ‘I–I …’ She held up her right hand.
He shook his head and, lifting her left hand, slipped the ring onto the third finger. So right, so perfect, Elly wearing nothing but the ring he’d given her. ‘I had it sized and engraved yesterday when you were sleeping.’ He’d paid double for Milson to get the job done in under an hour. Unable to tell her he’d left her with Rick while she slept, he kissed her. ‘I called Minyenbarra yesterday. The papers will be at home when we get back, and we’re going to sign them. I had to look up the number, since you wouldn’t give it to me.’ He said it with awkward defiance. Sixteen again, and so afraid of rejection, even now when she lay naked in his arms. Stay with me, Elle. Please don’t go.
‘Well, you didn’t give me back my photos,’ she mock-sniped, tears spilling from eyes as bright as the sun.
She filled his life with joy and laughter, even at this moment. He buried his face in her neck. ‘That’s my Elly.’
She hugged him tight. ‘Yes, it’s me. Can we please stop talking now?’ she begged. ‘I don’t know about you, but I’ve waited half a lifetime for this, and I keep thinking the stupid phone will ring any moment and stop us.’
Caught halfway between coughing and laughter, he lifted his head and kissed her with all the desire consuming him. She responded with sweet fire, her mouth devouring his. She lifted his hands to her breasts with a whimper of need, crooning in a smoky-soft voice. He slowly lifted her body higher, exploring her with his mouth and tongue until he reached the taut, dusky nipples. He drew one into his mouth, suckling, abrading its tip with his tongue.
She writhed against him, crying out, ‘Oh, Adam, that’s so beautiful!’
‘Claudius,’ he rasped, wanting to hear her cry out the nickname with passion.
‘Claudius …’ She murmured words in a soft, purring language he didn’t know. The music in rain, the song of an angel—a torrent of joyful pleasure from the woman he’d always want above any other.
He laid her down, nipping the skin of her ribs and belly, his hands exploring, his confidence soaring at her whimpering little cries and her body’s instinctive arch up to meet his hands and mouth.
‘Translation, please?’
She watched him touch and kiss her body, her eyes filled with such emotion it warmed the still-cold places in his soul. ‘I’ll tell you tomorrow, if you still want to know. Tonight I can say and do what I want.’
And he no longer had to ask. Craving to say the words stay with me, Elly. Never leave me. As terrified as she was, because if this hour was inevitability, so was tomorrow’s parting.
‘Oh? I guess it’s time to retaliate, then …’ He kissed her hands in tender reverence, but when tears shone in her eyes, he moved up her arms, and then down her body, slow, intimate. She cried out, curving into his hands and mouth wherever he kissed her. He loved her with hands and lips and tongue until she cried out, ‘Claudius,’ and her body convulsed in release.
The scent of her, warm and womanly and drenched in unashamed sexuality … he shuddered, then kissed her and laid his body on hers, joining them—
He stiffened, his mind reeling in shock as he encountered the barrier he’d never expected to find. ‘Elly?’ he gasped, his mind reverting to another night like this, with a dread-filled sinking in the pit of his stomach.
She bit her lip, trying to smile even in her pain. ‘I’ll be fine in a minute.’
‘Are you hurting much?’ he asked, preparing to withdraw.
‘Don’t,’ she cried, holding him inside her, his lovely wild thing. ‘It’s not hurting much. I’ll be fine in a minute.’
‘Why?’ Everything he wanted to ask came down to that one question.
‘No spiritual or emotional why to it. Just one of life’s choices.’ She smiled at him. ‘On that first skinny-dip in the wilds of Bundanoon the day you got your licence, you never even looked at me. But I couldn’t look away.’
He didn’t know what to do with that. ‘But that was fifteen years ago. You were a kid!’
She kissed him. ‘I’ve never felt like that about any man since.’ She trailed her hand down his body and he groaned, fighting for control. ‘I’ve dated a lot of men, but it was never like this. I even tried to go this far once or twice, but I couldn’t do it. They weren’t you.’
His fear was thrown aside. In this most intimate position, her words filled his heart with the same arrogant gladness he saw on her face. She’d chosen him to be her first lover. Not just any man, she wanted him, Adam. She’d waited years for him.
Confirmation of all she’d left unsaid came to him on quiet feet. No woman waited so long for a man, unless—
If I fall in love with you …
He held her gaze, compelling her. ‘There was never an if for you, was there?’
Even here and now, she lifted her chin, undefeated. ‘Are you sure you want to know?’
For answer, h
e picked up her left hand, caressing the wedding ring. More inevitability, despite everything that had pulled them apart in the past, and still pulled them apart now. This ring was supposed to be there, damn it, and put there by him.
‘Was there an if, my Elly?’
She shook her head. Show no fear; take no prisoners. She’d even tell him the truth during her pain in this most intimate act.
She waited half a lifetime for me. She loves me. How stupid to be so surprised by it, when he’d known all along nobody would ever love him the way Elly did.
Dragging in slow breaths, giving her time to adjust—or was it he who needed to take it slowly?—he felt her move, taking him deep inside her. He heard her gasp, and even a man as ignorant of female pleasure as he was couldn’t miss it.
‘Adam …’
He moved further inside her, filling her, and though she flinched, desire made her eyes stay open.
‘Yes, oh, yes,’ she whispered, adding a torrent of words in her other language: words of need, of joy; crying aloud in pleasure. She began to move with him, her hands and lips caressing his body, giving as much as she gained. Sweet, fast loving that left them slicked in sweat. And when he found release as intense as the love they’d created, she’d already found completion, her velvet softness contracting all around him in the exquisite aftershocks of her second climax.
And still, the silence around them was broken only by the symphony of crickets and birds.
He buried his face in her hair, revelling in all they were. Then he rolled over, taking her with him so she lay on top of him. He caressed her face and back with an unsteady hand.
‘Adam?’ The word was uncertain.
He should have known she would sense the change, feel his pain. He kissed her flushed, damp cheek, trailing his lips to her mouth. ‘Not you, darlin’. You’ve never hurt me in your life.’
She turned her face away from his kiss. ‘It’s her.’ Her voice was flat, pain underlining the name she now feared to bring up.
After a moment, he nodded. If he didn’t say it now, he’d lose her; and for the first time the choice between the two women in his life was easy. ‘She never enjoyed this. That’s why we had separate beds. Until tonight—until you—I thought I was the problem. You know what they say: there’s no frigid women, only bad lovers.’
Beneath the Skin Page 24
