Roomful of Roses

by Diana Palmer

  "Why?" he murmured, bending his head to nudge aside the low-cut blouse she was wearing and trespass on warm, silky skin.

  "I'd like to lie on the beach with you."

  "Hmm," he laughed, "and I can imagine in what circumstances. But, Wynn, think of the sand!"

  "We could take a towel with us," she said, pouting. "Anyway, I know you aren't able -"

  "That's what you think, lady." He lifted her up and tugged her back into the room, pausing to turn down the double bed without turning on the light. He tugged off his clothes while she gaped at him, chuckling when he was through and she was still frozen in position.

  He came close, removing her blouse and the rest of her comfortable outfit until she felt the cool ocean breeze on her bareness with an incredible sense of freedom.

  "Now," he said, lifting her and tossing her into the center of the bed, "just pretend that this is sand, and the sheet is a towel, and close your eyes. I'll take care of the rest."

  She opened her mouth to protest, but he was already sliding alongside her, and she caught her breath on a wild, husky little moan as she felt for the first time in her life the silky roughness of a man's bare flesh against every inch of her own.

  "McCabe," she moaned.

  "You need to learn some new words," he whispered in her ear as his hands made new, exciting discoveries about her.

  "Before morning, you'll have a great vocabulary."

  He was a patient lover. And he knew where to touch, how to arouse gently, how not to frighten. She found herself obeying his soft, tender whispers without a single protest as he led her deeper and deeper into a morass of sensuality that surpassed even her wild imaginings about being with him.

  He whispered words in Spanish and taught her the meanings, and then taught her to repeat them. He calmed her last helpless surge of fear and gentled her, cradled her, until the wildness of passion caught her and tossed her up against him like the pulsating whitecaps that lashed the beach. And the pain was hardly beginning before it ended, and she went with him every step of the way, his willing companion in a journey of exploration that ended all too soon.

  She nestled in his arms, still shaking with mingled pleasure and frustration, because it had been exquisite but not nearly enough.

  "It gets better," he murmured wickedly when he had his breath back. He brushed his lips over her closed eyes. "Much, much better. But it takes a lot of practice, so you'll just have to eat a lot and conserve your strength."

  "You're just impossible," she burst out, laughing.

  "I always have been. Seriously, was it good at all?" he asked gently.

  "It was extremely intimate," she murmured. "Oh, McCabe, I love you so much. I'm just so glad that you're not going to be risking your life anymore."

  "That goes double for me, darling," he said flatly. "I've got so much to live for now. I'll never forget the terror I felt when it dawned on me that you were my whole world and if anything happened to you, I might as well let them shoot me, too.

  Because I wouldn't want to live if I had to do it without you."

  She caught her breath at the genuine emotion in his deep voice as he spoke. In the dimness she could see the flash of his eyes.

  "I love you, Wynn," he said curtly. "All the way."

  "I knew that already," she said unsteadily. "But it's very nice to hear it."

  "You've said it quite a lot," he murmured, drawing her back down beside him. "While I was teaching you how to make love. Feel up to another lesson so soon?"

  "Oh, yes," she whispered with a laugh. "If you do."

  "I'll manage." He lifted her over him and laughed when she gasped. "Remember when I told you there are ways, and ways? Well, this is what I meant."

  She caught her breath and let him pull her down into the maelstrom with him. And this time, it was enough. More than enough. It was all the world and every nuance of love it contained. He was hers. And she was his. Totally.

  A long time later, they ordered coffee and pie from room service and sat together in the big chair on the balcony.

  "McCabe, about your job," she began uneasily. "Will you be able to settle for what Redvale can offer?"

  "I've thought about that a lot," he said. "And I think I can, Wynn. As long as you don't mind traveling with me once in a while. I want to climb the ruins at Machu Picchu and on Crete and see the pyramids. I'd like to go around the world without being obligated to report what I see. Would you like that?"

  "Yes, I would." She nuzzled closer. "And when our children get old enough,take them with us."

  "How many are we going to have?" he asked on a chuckle.

  "Well, I thought maybe a boy and a girl."

  "Nice. We'll teach them how to handle a camera and write choppy sentences." He kissed her nose. "Will you miss it a lot?"

  "No more than you will, I guess," she admitted.

  "Wynn, Ed made me a proposition," he said after a minute.

  "What kind of proposition?"

  "He offered me the paper."

  She sat up, holding her breath. "And?"

  He studied her. "How would you like to run it with me?"

  "Oh, McCabe!" she burst out, laughing, loving him. "McCabe, what a nice wedding present!"

  He drew her close and kissed her. "I'm still working on the roomful of roses." He eased her back down into his arms. "Now, this is how I thought we'd start out," he began. And she nuzzled closer, smiling a little as she listened. It might not be easy to get this tiger into a permanent cage, but now that he had a wife and a newspaper of his own, he might settle down quite well.

  She lifted her hand to his face, and her wedding ring caught the moonlight. It was no more radiant than Wynn's eyes, with the glow of fulfillment blazing softly in their depths.