“But…”
“Go on.”
“But I thought you—”
“Evie.” He actually chuckled. “Give it time. What’s supposed to happen will happen. Have a little faith, for heaven’s sake.”
“You…you want me to go to sleep. Here? Now?”
He nodded. “Exactly. Here and now.”
“But I—”
“You said the other night that you trust me.”
Eager for him to understand, she rolled onto her left side, facing him. “I do. Oh, I do.”
“Then turn over and go to sleep and we’ll leave the rest for another time.”
She levered up a little, not really realizing that she was losing her self-consciousness until the covers fell away and she had to catch them from sliding too low and revealing her bare breasts. “Oh!” She clutched the covers to her chest. “There.” She looked at Erik once more and told him tartly, “I think we should get it over with first, before we try to sleep, I really do.”
He laughed aloud then, tossing his big head on the white pillow. “Get it over with?”
She found she was irritated with him, very irritated indeed. She scooted right up against him and glared down into his eyes. “This is no laughing matter, Erik Riggins.”
And then she remembered the situation here—they were both completely naked. And right at this moment, her soft breasts were pressed against his bare chest.
Her fear surged to the forefront again. She froze. “I…umm…”
He closed his eyes and let out a sort of strangled groan. “Don’t worry, Evie. I’m not laughing now.”
She started to retreat to her side of the bed. But then she didn’t do that after all. Because she realized that it felt…rather good, actually, to be lying across him this way. She felt…very soft. And he felt very hard. There was hair on his chest, silky hair, she could feel that, against her breasts. Her nipples were responding, tightening into firm little buds.
She cleared her throat. “As I was saying…”
“Right.” His voice came out rough, and growly sounding. “You think we should get this over with.”
“Yes, I do. I’m never going to be able to sleep, until it’s all behind us.” She moved, just a little, creating a lovely friction.
A look of mild agony flitted over his face. And then he relaxed. He breathed in and out. She bobbed up and down on his chest like a rowboat on a wind-stirred pond.
“Okay.” Now he was actually smiling—a smile that was far too smug, as far as Evie was concerned. “Convince me.”
“Convince you?”
“Yeah.”
“How am I supposed to do that?”
He shrugged, one sculpted shoulder lifting against the sheet. “You could start with a kiss, I suppose.”
She realized then what was going on, so she narrowed her eyes at him and tried to sound stern. “Am I being seduced?”
He shrugged once more. “Could be. Am I?”
And then everything was serious again. But in a wonderful way.
“Oh, Erik.”
“Come on, Evie. Kiss me.”
Her fear was still with her, but it no longer controlled her. She had all her clothes off, so the undressing part was behind her. And if the lamp in the corner was going to fling itself to the floor a few minutes from now, well, she’d deal with that when the time came.
Erik whispered, “Concentrate on the way it feels, Evie. On you and me. Touching.”
It was great advice. All her thoughts focused on the wonderful way her body felt, resting on top of his, she lowered her mouth.
Their lips touched, and parted. She felt his tongue, seeking, tasting. Shyly she allowed her tongue to touch his. It felt wonderful. His tongue teased hers. And she teased back.
Evie sighed, and settled herself more comfortably on Erik’s chest as the kiss stretched out for the most delightfully long time.
At last, when she felt she knew his mouth almost as well as she knew her own, she raised her head. They shared a smile.
He laid a hand against her cheek. “It’s been a long time for me, Evie. I’m probably not going to be able to go slow after a certain point.” His fingers slid back a little, into her hair. He touched her ear, rubbing it lightly between his thumb and forefinger, making something deep inside her seem to open and yearn. “What I’m saying is, if you want to stop this, let’s stop it now, all right?”
She swallowed. “I don’t want to stop.”
His hand moved a little, downward, over her throat. It felt rough against her soft skin, rough and warm and good.
“Like something impossible, the feel of you.” His voice had gone all husky. “Like silk and water at the same time…” The words were so low, she would never have heard them had her lips and his not been mere inches apart.
His hand moved lower, he pushed at the blankets. “Let me see you, Evie. In the moonlight, all silvery and smooth. Let me look at you.”
The fear resurfaced—a bitterness at the back of her throat. “I…”
But his eyes were so tender, so full of the moon.
“All right,” she heard herself whisper. She retreated to her side of the bed and stretched out, beside him. For a moment they lay there, side by side.
And then he rolled closer and levered up on an elbow, so he could lean over her. He took the blanket in his hand and slowly pulled it back.
Evie closed her eyes.
Erik sighed. “Beautiful.”
She shivered.
“Are you cold?”
With her eyes still closed, she murmured shyly, “You could make me warm.” She held up her arms.
But instead of going into them, he spoke. “Open your eyes. Please look at me.”
Evie let her arms fall back to the bed and did as he asked. He smiled. Tremulously she smiled back.
He reached across her body and touched the center of her palm. Her fingers tensed, closing around his finger briefly, but then she ordered them to relax.
For a moment, his finger lingered there, tracing a circle in the heart of her hand. Then slowly, his touch trailed up, over the fleshy pad at the base of her thumb, skimming the pulse at her wrist, the pale inside of her arm and the blue veins of her inner elbow. He rubbed her shoulder, a tender massage, then traced the shape of her collarbone.
And then his hand, rough and tender, moved downward again. He touched her nipple. She gasped.
He cupped her breast.
Evie stiffened, then relaxed. His hand held her breast so lightly. And actually, she realized, she wouldn’t mind if he held it tighter.
She lifted herself, into his touch. He made a low noise in his throat and picked up her cue, leaning closer to her as he cupped and molded her breast, which seemed to have grown so firm and full of want in his hand. He lowered his head and kissed her other breast, taking the nipple into his mouth.
Evie cried out as he suckled her. She pulled him close and cradled his head and felt the way her own body responded—as if a tiny thread trailed down from the nipple he sucked into the very core of her.
And then his hand was gliding downward once more, over her ribs and the tender flesh of her quivering belly.
Evie stiffened again, as he found her most secret place. He combed through the silky hair with questing fingers and parted her.
Lightly, gently, he stroked her. And soon her body had gone all pliant and hungry again. It was lifting, opening, offering itself.
She felt her own wetness, there, where he did such forbidden and wonderful things to her. And something was gathering inside her, readying her for something—an explosion, a completion—something that she didn’t quite know how to find.
His mouth left her breast. She moaned and writhed. He moved down her body.
And he put his mouth there. Where his hand had been. She was so shocked at first that she let out a startled, frightened cry. She froze absolutely still.
But then he made a sound, a hungry, pleading sound. And she was liquid again, o
pen to him. She was…part of him. So that she could hardly tell where he stopped and she began.
Her body went with him, where he was begging her with his lips and his tongue to go.
She cried out, and the whole world was quivering, shimmering, breaking apart. And through it all, though she bucked and writhed and pushed at him, Erik kept kissing her there, urging her on.
At last, the wonder faded. Evie lay limp upon the sheets.
Erik moved quickly then, rising and getting something out of the drawer by the bed, putting it on himself.
She looked at him, dazed.
He said, “My eyes, Evie. Just look in my eyes for now.”
At that moment, she would have gladly followed him over a cliff. She did as he told her. She looked in his eyes. And he came down upon her.
Even as moist and open as she was, it was a shock to her body, to take him in. But she followed his urging, she kept her eyes locked with his. And she did take him, all of him.
He had braced himself above her on his arms and he muttered her name, low and hungrily. He was shaking, trying to hold back, trying not to hurt her.
But then it was too much for him. His own need claimed him. His eyes rolled back and he groaned deep in his throat. She clutched him, pulling him down, opening herself around him as far as her inexperienced body would allow.
He moved faster then, lost in an ecstasy all his own. And Evie surrendered to it, let herself relax completely. She found it felt better then. It felt fine. It felt…rather delicious, actually. She moaned and wrapped her legs around him, her body taking its cues from him now.
But he was far gone, lost in his own need. He let out a long final groan and stiffened in completion before she could find her own way to fulfillment again. But it didn’t matter, not really. The next time, she had no doubt, they would find heaven as one.
His body went limp on top of her. Evie cradled him close. They were both panting and wet with sweat.
Evie lay there, crushed beneath his considerable weight and not minding at all. So sated and dazed was she that it took a few moments for the truth to really sink in.
She had done it.
After all these years, she’d finally made love.
And all that had happened was what was supposed to happen. None of her worst fears had come to pass.
Evie turned her head to peer into the shadows across the room. She could make out the rounded base of the ginger jar lamp, on the bureau in exactly the spot it had occupied before. As far as she could tell, no object in the room had so much as shifted—let alone flung itself to the floor.
She hadn’t seen a single vision—beyond the welcome sight of Erik, rising above her, telling her to look into his eyes.
It had been all right.
Much more than all right, actually.
It had been beautiful.
Erik rolled to the side, taking her with him, so their bodies didn’t part. He stroked her hip, idly, possessively, while the arm that was beneath her pillowed her head.
Evie heard a purring sound of womanly satisfaction and realized it was coming from her own throat. She let her hand trail over the powerful bulge of his shoulder and reveled once more in the feel of him.
There simply were not enough superlatives to describe how she felt. It was…a revelation to her, this earthbound magic that was somehow all the more incredible because it was magic meant for two.
And beyond that, she had a sneaking suspicion that in the future, as they grew more comfortable with each other, more accustomed to pleasing each other, it would get even better.
Everything, Evie realized as she went on caressing him, would be all right now. Her doubts were dust. With Erik, all things were possible.
Oh, in all her lonely life she’d never felt this way before. Something was rising inside her, as effervescent as fine champagne, and yet as warm and comfortable as an old pair of slippers.
It was joy.
And a hardy kind of joy, too. A joy that could survive anything.
Nothing could kill a joy like this. Not her father. Not the old, ugly truths that she had yet to share with Erik. None of that could touch what she was feeling right now.
Yes, it was all right. She could have it all.
And soon, very soon, she would tell Erik of the past.
She should have done it earlier, of course. But that hadn’t worked out. And it didn’t matter, not really. Because she would take care of it soon.
Not right now, though. No. Right now was simply too perfect a moment to ruin with unpleasant truths.
Erik stroked her sweat-damp hair away from her temple. “Evie.”
“Hmm?”
“Evie, listen.”
She felt…liberated. She felt fully, completely free. She nuzzled his chin, and even dared to taste it with the tip of her tongue.
“Evie. Don’t distract me.”
She nipped at his Adam’s apple. “Umm. You taste so good.”
“Listen. I mean it.”
“I am listening. Honest. Go ahead.”
“Evie, I love you.”
Now, that was exquisite to hear. She kissed the pulse at the base of his neck. “I love you, too.”
“Evie, this is important.”
Against her lips, his skin was so warm. She could feel that pulse, beating, tender and vulnerable, like the wings of a moth. It excited her, to think that his lifeblood flowed there, rich and red, carrying nourishment to every part of his big, powerful body.
He gripped her shoulders. “Will you marry me?”
She purred again, deep in her throat, as she went on nuzzling his neck.
“Evie.” He pulled back then, and their bodies parted.
A little whine of disappointment escaped her. And then she looked down and saw a few drops of blood on the sheet. She also saw that most private part of him. Right now, it didn’t look quite so large as it had felt a short while ago. It was sheathed in what she knew must be a condom.
She remembered him, opening the bedside drawer, pulling the thing on—and commanding her to look in his eyes. She was moved at how carefully he must have planned all this—and how understanding and patient he’d been throughout.
“Oh, Erik…”
“What?” That gruffness was there in his voice once more.
“You…protected me.”
He caught her chin and made her look at him. Then he brushed a strand of hair back from where it had been caught in the corner of her mouth. “I went to Grass Valley yesterday and bought the damn things when I bought the groceries for tonight. Just in case my dream came true.” The brushing touch had turned to a caress. He rubbed his rough thumb against the curve of her cheek and then lower, across her lips.
She caught his wrist in her hand, so that she could kiss the thumb that teased her lips. He groaned.
She whispered, “And did your dream come true?”
“Almost.”
The joy was bubbling up inside her again. She just felt so wonderful. She couldn’t resist teasing him. “Almost? What’s missing?”
“You haven’t said you’ll marry me. It’s what I want Evie, more than I’ve ever wanted anything else in my life. Maybe I don’t have any right to want it. But I do.”
“I’m glad.”
“Then answer me. Will you marry me?”
Evie knew she should answer then, that it would be cruel to string this out one second longer. But she wanted to touch him. She let go of his wrist and hooked her hand around his nape, bringing her mouth right up to his. “I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you all over…”
He grabbed her shoulder, holding her still, so their lips couldn’t meet until she gave him the answer he sought. “Answer me, Evie. I can’t take any more teasing. Will you marry me or not?”
Evie sighed—and then she smiled. “Of course I’ll marry you. Name the day.”
They talked half the night, of when they’d marry and when they’d tell the children and how they’d combine their two households into one.
They decided the ceremony would be in this very house in two weeks’ time and they’d tell the children tomorrow night, after a dinner that Evie would cook for them all.
Then, to celebrate, they reached for each other once more. This time, as Evie had known they would, they reached fulfillment together. Then they drifted off to dreamland, wrapped tightly in each other’s arms.
When daylight came, Evie was eager to be gone before the children returned and started asking uncomfortable questions about why Evie was still here.
She could just see Jenny in her mind’s eye. “Evie,” Jenny would scold, “you know that girls don’t get to have sleepovers with boys…”
But Erik only laughed when she said she had to get out of there.
“Relax, sweetheart. The kids aren’t due home until noon at the earliest.”
“Are you sure?”
“Trust me. It’s handled.”
So they made love again, showered shamelessly together and then shared a simple breakfast that Evie prepared from what Erik had on hand. And then, since ten o’clock was approaching and Evie had to open the shop, it was time for her to go.
But of course, since they were lovers, the goodbyes just never seemed to end. At quarter of ten, they were still standing at the front door, whispering of all the things they needed to remember to do, and kissing in between the words.
Evie held her purse and the unopened envelope of clippings in one hand and, in the midst of a kiss, the envelope happened to brush against Erik’s leg.
“What’s that?” he asked tenderly.
Her stomach knotted. A while ago, with Erik standing right beside her, she’d scooped up her purse and the envelope from the side table in the dining room. Then they’d walked, side by side, to the door, without him saying a word about it. She’d actually started to believe he hadn’t even noticed she had it in her hand.
But no such luck.
She stalled for time, keeping her expression relaxed and planting another in a long string of kisses on his chin. “Umm? What?”
He tapped the envelope with a finger. “That.” He kissed her nose.
Tell him, tell him right now, her conscience prodded.
But then Erik really kissed her—a long, knee-melting, heart-bonging kiss. When he pulled back, she was glad she had her free hand on the doorknob to steady herself.
The Man, The Moon And The Marriage Vow Page 12
