by James, Sandy
Lucas rocked his hips hard into hers as she spread her legs a little wider. The barriers of clothing taunted him, kept her from him. He growled his frustration. He needed to be inside her, needed to feel her heat tighten around him again, needed to lose himself in her. Hell, he just didn’t have any control with Joy. But he wanted this to last. And last.
Get it together, Lucas. Slow down and breathe. Steeling himself, trying to gain some kind of self-restraint, he took charge as he rolled with her, pinning her back to the floor.
She deserved better than this, better than making love in the middle of the kitchen floor, but Lucas couldn’t stop himself. Joy didn’t seem to mind as she grabbed at his boxers, trying to tug them from his hips. Her eagerness didn’t do much to help him with his own self-control. The boxers were quickly abandoned.
Lucas moved to her side, tugged her skirt down over her legs then pulled it free. Tossing the gauzy garment over his shoulder, he moved between her legs as he rose to his knees. Dropping his lips to her stomach, he ran his tongue around the sexy gold hoop that pierced her navel. He kissed his way over her belly. So warm, so soft, so perfect. She trembled, quivering each time his lips touched her skin. Her taste was sweet, her scent intoxicating. Using his teeth as well as his fingers, he dragged her panties down her legs until he’d freed her from the bothersome piece of lace.
“My God, you’re beautiful,” Lucas whispered as he knelt between her thighs, looking down on heaven. With a naughty smile, he grabbed her hips to hold her still.
Joy almost came undone from the rush of bliss that washed over her when Lucas pressed the first intimate kiss to her core. She laced her fingers through his hair and arched against him, wishing he would never stop even as she wished he’d bring an end to the sweet torture that kept building and building. “Now, Lucas.” When his fingers penetrated her, Joy’s muscles knotted in almost unbearable tension. Then she felt pleasure rush over her in waves. Lucas wouldn’t let up, plying her, playing with her until she could barely breathe as she gasped his name and bucked beneath him.
Suddenly, he was there. Entering her so forcefully, she felt the pressure quickly building to a crescendo again.
“Oh, God, Jozsa. You...you feel so...”
His movements became frantic as the fire in her exploded again, sending heat to every nerve, every fiber of her body. She heard his ragged breath in her ear as he grabbed her hips, thrust into her one last glorious time, and shuddered at his own release.
* * * *
Lucas pressed his body a little closer to Joy, molding his chest to her back, his thighs to hers. He rubbed his nose in that glorious mane of curly, dark hair and breathed in her scent.
Heaven on earth.
Joy hadn’t wanted to talk after they’d made love. She hadn’t said a single word. She’d just taken his hand and led him back to his bed. Now she slept peacefully in his arms, but Lucas couldn’t seem to find any rest of his own.
Something was wrong. He knew it. Something was definitely wrong.
Even though the kitchen had been dark, he’d seen her tears just as he’d seen the bag she carried. She’d come to him in the middle of the night for more than what had passed between them. He knew Joy was running, but he finally decided she was running to him as much as she was running away. Joy was coming home. “To me,” he whispered before he kissed the top of her head. She let out a sleepy sigh. Lucas took that as a confirmation and smiled.
He’d never felt anything as strong, as overwhelming as what he’d felt when he made love to her. If he was younger, those kinds of feelings might have been alarming. What he had found in her arms was total surrender, and he’d welcomed it without a moment of hesitation, without a moment of stupid, sobering thought. He had given her everything—body, heart, and soul. And in return, she had given him life.
Good Lord, were they careless again. Not that he was concerned about sex with Joy being “safe.” The only real concern as Lucas saw it was what would happen if she suddenly found herself pregnant.
The notion that they might have just created a child didn’t frighten him like he thought it should. Something as permanent as parenthood would have worried him before Iraq, but now things were different. Lucas knew he should fret about the possibility of losing his freedom and being forced to marry, but he just...didn’t. Hell, he would welcome the news. Then Joy’s family couldn’t keep them apart.
Knowing pregnancy was a silly and entirely immature way to solve their dilemma, Lucas still wholeheartedly embraced the idea of becoming a father to children he and Joy created together. He fantasized about what their baby would look like. A little girl with her mother’s dark hair and eyes. Smiling at the amazing notion, he kissed the top of her head again. She always smelled like wildflowers.
They’d have to talk about birth control. Sometime.
“Maybe after our first is born,” Lucas whispered against her hair.
He toyed with the notion of waking her up and talking about what had sent her running to him. But she was sleeping so peacefully and had looked so tired, he couldn’t bring himself to disturb her. Trying to rest, he watched the first rays of sunshine stream through the window and felt another smile cross his lips.
“You’ll stay here now,” he whispered. “You’ll stay with me. I’m going to marry you, Jozsa Kovacs. I’ll marry you. Just wait and see.”
* * * *
This dream was so different than all of her other recent dreams. No faces of her ancestors, no condemnation from her father. This time Lucas came to Joy in her sleep. He kissed her, held her, and made her feel wanted. Such a wonderful, soothing dream.
But the tone suddenly changed, the images going through a horrifying transformation. Lucas was now dressed entirely in camouflage and equipped as a soldier. He was hurt, his shattered right arm hanging limp and bleeding at his side. Another soldier lay next to him with open, dull eyes that held no spark of life. Lucas called to her, but she couldn’t understand his words. What did he want? What did he need? She tried to reach out for him, but his image began to fade into the fog.
“Heal me,” his voice whispered as if Lucas was the narrator of her dream.
“How?” she heard herself beg. “What do you need? What do you need from me, Szivem?”
“I need your love.”
But he already had that. “What do you need, Lucas?”
“I need you to understand when the time comes,” the haunting voice replied. His image faded, withdrew until he became nothing more than a ghostly figure in the distance. Joy was frantic to keep him with her, to keep him close.
She was running toward him now. Her heart pounded, her stomach roiled, and her breath came in frantic gasps. But the harder she tried to reach him, the more Lucas faded into the background. “Understand what? What do you need? Tell me! Please!”
“I need you to let me go when the time comes.”
She shook her head. He couldn’t mean what he was saying. “I can’t let you go. I could never let you go.”
“Let me go, Jozsa. Let me go and I’ll find my way home.”
Then he was gone. His image faded away in the swirling mists, taking the dead soldier with him.
“No!” Joy sat up with a frightened jerk. Her heart slammed in her chest and she was covered in perspiration. Gulping a few ragged breaths, she tried to find some calm. A dream. It was just a dream. But she knew better.
Gypsies didn’t just dream.
The sun was up, but Joy had no idea what time it was. She wanted a shower and something to eat. And she needed to see Lucas.
Pushing herself out of the bed, she grabbed Lucas’s robe from where it rested over the footboard and wrapped it around her. The sleeves hung past her hands, and the hem touched her ankles. She smiled at the image she must present in the enormous garment, but she loved being cocooned by something that belonged to him, something that smelled like him. Wearing the robe felt as pleasant and comforting as a warm embrace.
Joy walked over to the window and
looked down on the stark lawn. She would have to plant bulbs this autumn. Irises and tulips, maybe some crocuses. And she would have to find a Hungarian lilac tree to plant soon. Then there would be plenty of color to catch her eye in the spring. She would find some wind chimes to tickle her ear when a breeze blew across the fields surrounding the house. How beautiful this place will be.
Lucas was moving a horse from the barn to one of the corrals. He must have realized she was watching because he suddenly stopped and stared up at her. She gave him a small wave that was more sleeve than hand, and he smiled and nodded in return. He wore a short-sleeved shirt. She wanted to cry in happiness.
How domestic the whole scene seemed. Joy watched him give the horse a pat on the nose before he removed the lead rope and turned the animal into one of the fenced corrals. The horse trotted to the center and bucked, kicking up his back hooves in obvious delight. Lucas leaned against the fence and watched the animal. Joy watched Lucas.
God, he was handsome. She felt a shimmer of warmth flow through her, remembering what had passed between them, remembering the passion Lucas had inspired in her. More than she had known existed. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She watched Lucas push himself away from the fence and march back toward the barn. Joy turned back to the bedroom to look for a clock.
She didn’t find the time, but she saw her duffle bag sitting next to the nightstand. Then she remembered what Tamas had tried to do to her. A horrified shudder ran through her. She tried to push the repulsive memory aside and replace it with the thoughts of Lucas’s touch, his kisses, and his love. Joy reached for her bag, pulled out some clean clothes, and headed for the shower.
The bathroom looked ancient, but she realized the shower worked because Lucas had left soap and shampoo on the ledge of the bathtub. Joy found a clean towel in the small linen closet. She took a quick shower, dressed, and hurried to the kitchen.
Lucas came in the door as Joy poured a cup of coffee. “Want one?” she asked, holding up the pot.
“No, thanks. Want some breakfast?” He opened a cabinet that held a wide variety of cereals and did a Vanna White impersonation, waving his hand in front of the boxes.
“Corn flakes,” she replied with a smile.
Joy glanced around searching for a clock, finally finding one next to the ancient stove. It was only eight. No wonder she still felt tired. She sure hadn’t had much sleep.
Lucas retrieved the correct box, grabbed a bowl, and put them on the table for her. He fetched a jug of milk from the fridge and a sugar bowl from a cabinet and placed them close to where she pulled out a chair.
Joy sat and ate her cereal as Lucas sat and watched her. She tried to ignore him as he stared at her, tapping his index finger against his chin. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened?”
She wasn’t inclined to let him know any of the sordid story, feeling too ashamed to admit what had happened at her apartment. Jamming a spoonful of food into her mouth, she hoped to put him off.
Lucas just kept tapping that finger against his chin. “Something sent you running to me. And I’d guess it wasn’t good.”
She gave a casual shrug and ate some more Corn Flakes because she wasn’t about to tell him about Tamas. There would be a fight. Lucas would retaliate, and she wouldn’t allow him to get hurt over something that was already over.
No matter what she told Tamas about how she felt about him, all he could seem to remember was the one act of stupidity the night of her third brother’s wedding. Too much champagne, too much dancing, and too much romantic nonsense watching Jakab and his new wife had led Joy into Tamas’s embrace in the backseat of the empty limo.
Sweet Jesus, did she lament doing something that foolish. Not only had the coupling been nothing more than a fumbling, groping affair, but she regretted it mostly because Tamas had seen their reckless actions as proof that they were destined to be together. All Joy thought the embarrassing episode represented was what a bad combination alcohol and seventeen made. It was the only time she’d made a mistake like that, and she had sworn to learn the lesson well.
Tamas obviously recalled what passed between them in a much different light. What he remembered was passion or what he mistakenly thought was love, but it still wasn’t an excuse to attack her. She would never forgive him.
None of it really mattered anymore. She was with Lucas now. She’d stepped outside the circle and had no intention of ever going back.
“Well?” Lucas prodded, dropping his hand to the table and drumming his fingers against the shiny surface. “Since you brought your stuff, you came to stay. Did you have a fight with your parents?”
“Oh, my God.” Joy dropped her spoon, and a few drops of milk and a couple of wet flakes flew from the bowl to spatter the table. “I didn’t tell anyone I left.” Her father would be furious, her mother would be frantic, and Janos... He would be pissed off beyond rational thought, especially if he ever found out why she had run away. She suddenly remembered that she hadn’t even grabbed her art bag or her purse, just the duffle bag and her car keys.
“Do you want me to take you back to Gypsy?” Lucas asked with an odd note to his voice that made Joy’s heart clench in fear.
Did I do the wrong thing in coming to him?
Lucas hadn’t bargained for the burden of a houseguest. Joy feared she’d overstepped, that she’d pushed too hard. But she had needed him last night. What else could she have done?
“You...you want me to leave? Are you sorry I came?” Joy hadn’t even considered that he wouldn’t want her to stay with him. She’d just assumed...
Could I have been that wrong?
He turned her own words back on her as he gave her a sly smile. “Sorry? Are you kidding me?”
She hesitantly smiled. “Touché.”
“Of course I want you here.” He reached out and covered her hand with his. “I just don’t see that big red bag of yours, and I know you can’t live without your art supplies. I can take you back to Gypsy. We can get the rest of your stuff. You can move in here.” He gave her a decisive nod. “With me.”
Joy considered Lucas for a moment as she stared at him across the table. The sincerity of his feelings was there in his eyes.
God bless you, Nagymama. You were right.
Once upon a time, the wonderful old woman had read Joy’s palm. Not the way she did when she was trying to teach her granddaughter the gypsy ways, but she’d seriously interpreted the future the lines and creases in Joy’s hand could reveal in hopes of imparting some wisdom that might help her through life.
She had told Joy that true love would come fast and would come easy. No fanfare, no agonizing over what to do. Love would come to her with the ease of air coming into her lungs with each new breath. Here was Lucas, a man she knew she’d really only just met. Yet she loved him with a depth that frightened her, and he was inviting her into his life without a moment of panic or hesitation.
Love had come easy.
But her grandmother had also told her the rest of love’s path Joy had to walk would not always be smooth. Affection that came easy needed to face challenges to endure.
Challenges. Like her family. And his secrets.
“Jozsa?”
She’d lost herself in her own thoughts. Again. “I’m sorry. You were saying...?”
“Do you want to go get your stuff?”
“Please.”
She would find a way to explain the whole thing to her family, to explain why she was leaving.
Somehow.
* * * *
“Damn it, Joy! I was worried sick!”
Janos stood in the kitchen, throwing nasty glares at Lucas that told her Janos blamed him more than her. Thankfully, Lucas hung back, letting her deal with her brother. At least the restaurant staff hadn’t arrived for the day.
“Are Papa and Mama here?” she asked.
“No. They drove back to Andras’s Gypsy early this morning. They’re helping with some local union thing that popped up.
At least that was their excuse this time. Papa said he needed to stay to talk to you, but Mama told him to give you a little space. For once, he actually listened to her.”
His expression softened some, and Joy hoped that meant he wouldn’t be trying to tear Lucas to shreds when she told him her plans.
“Papa said they’ll be back as soon as they get stuff squared away.”
All the softness in his face faded and was replaced with that anger she’d seen too often lately. She realized that, in many ways, Janos felt as trapped by their heritage as she did.
“Where in the hell were you? I hate lying to them, but I told them you weren’t feeling well. I damn sure didn’t tell them you didn’t come home last night. And I fed those mangy cats of yours this morning.”
“Thank you, Janos,” Joy said as she watched her brother’s eyes continue to shoot daggers at Lucas. “Where’s Tamas? He wasn’t downstairs.” She’d been more than a little relieved she hadn’t needed to confront him or start some God-awful argument. She would have to face Tamas again. Some day. But she was grateful that today didn’t appear to be that day.
The surprised look on Janos’s face told Joy he hadn’t even noticed Tamas’s absence. “You know, I have no idea. I was too worried about you to think about him. It’s not like Tamas to disappear. Of course, it’s not like you, either.” Janos turned to Lucas and raised an eyebrow. “She was with you?”
Joy bristled at the question. “Janos, that’s none of your—”
“Yes, she was with me. All night.” Lucas’s strong and steady voice sent shimmers of warmth through her at his possessive tone. “And she’s leaving with me too. We just came to get her things.”
Joy waited for her brother to blow up like an atomic bomb, but he didn’t. In her confusion, she watched Janos stare at Lucas. Those dark eyes seemed to be appraising Lucas, sizing him up as if to determine his worth. She saw them settle on his scars and hoped her brother wouldn’t say something that would make Lucas self-conscious about them again.
