It's News to Her

by Helen R. Myers

  “Because I pay their salaries, that’s how,” he drawled. “And to answer your other question, I got a prescription, but I didn’t bother filling it. I would take a drink, if you’re offering?”

  The way he braced his forearm with his right arm, his hand and wrist must be throbbing. Momentarily forgetting her attire, she gestured toward the kitchen. “Come sit down at the bar. Do you want a pillow to cushion that? I just woke and opened a bottle of cabernet. I’ll get the glasses.”

  “I don’t need the pillow, but the wine sounds great.”

  She led the way to the kitchen, intensely aware of how his gaze roamed over her from head to bare feet. He made her wish that she hadn’t taken off her bra, but she never slept in a bra, and it was too warm for socks. “I have scotch—a few other things if you’d prefer? I’ve forgotten what all is in the cabinet. Some of it is so old, it might be undrinkable.” Lovely, she thought. She was being reduced to rambling.

  “I’ll have what you’re having,” Cord replied, all calmness. “This way we’ll taste the same.”

  Hunter almost dropped the glasses as she brought them down from the hutch. Even as he made her imagine being kissed by him again, she knew she couldn’t let him. Yes, she’d been worried sick the moment she saw him hurt, but he had been turning her inside out for the last two, three days.

  “No. Don’t say that. I know I owe you an apology,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “You and your family. For not coming to the cemetery.”

  “We got your phone message, and they understand. I understand.” At her look of horror, he held up his hand. “They only know that a disgruntled employee was trying to strong-arm you. You should have stayed with the family the way Lenore told you to.”

  “And have Denny pull what he did after the graveside service?” Hunter shuddered.

  “The police came quickly enough. They escorted him and his date back to his hotel. By now they’ve seen that he’s on a return flight to California.” When she poured the wine and handed him his glass, he asked, “Did you really manage to sleep?”

  Hunter smoothed her mussed hair. “Can’t you tell?”

  Cord’s blue-gray eyes darkened with desire. “I like the less-than-camera-ready look. Did the rest help?”

  “I thought it did. Now you’re here, and I’m confused again.” She took a fortifying sip of her drink.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Certain her hands were about to give away her nerves, Hunter put down the glass and laid them flat against the granite countertop, her fingers splayed. Focusing on them and not him, she asked, “Why did you shut me out when Henry died?”

  “I didn’t mean to. But there were things going on that you couldn’t know about.”

  “It hurt. From my first day at the station, I never asked for your attention.”

  Her gentle rebuke left him looking pained. “That’s an understatement.” Drawing the same kind of deep breath that he’d done on the altar, he continued. “Still, I thought my best chance would be to make you want it. Make you want me.”

  “You succeeded.” Hunter was willing to meet his gaze then, but he didn’t get a dewy-eyed, innocent look. He got the challenge of the woman who wasn’t going to be emotionally twisted and psychologically hammered with the push-pull of a man who she suspected might want to have a deeper relationship than he’d been used to, but was reluctant to give up his previous life—whatever all that entailed.

  “I did,” Cord murmured. “But tell me, Hunter…could I make you love me?”

  Hunter stared at him, certain she’d heard him incorrectly.

  “Henry’s death threw us all. Not that he died, but that the doctors couldn’t buy him—and us—that extra time. But that’s how devious cancer is—and Fate. A person seems to be rallying, and you’re fooled into starting to make plans and having hope.” Cord put his own glass down. “When I saw him watching us, I felt blessed. And when he passed, I feared that hope was being withdrawn. Maybe because I didn’t deserve any blessing.”

  “Please don’t feel the need to list every transgression in your life from licking a spoon that your mother was using as she put icing on a friend’s tray of cupcakes to having a one-night stand with a girl and never feeling guilty for not calling her again.”

  “Full disclosure—I was never guilty of doing either of those things. And the woman who hugged me at the viewing that you saw? Don’t deny it now,” he said drily. “I know you saw. That was nothing.”

  “It didn’t look like nothing.”

  “She was someone I knew even before you started at the station. She’s a great lady. Smart as a whip and happily married.”

  Hunter wasn’t going to say a word. She’d apologized all she was going to, and she wasn’t going to answer his question about love when he hadn’t said he loved her.

  “You’re angry.”

  She shook her head once. “I’m afraid.”

  “Not of me. Never of me again.” Cord came to her and watched her as she watched the hands she kept on the counter as though they were her anchor to reality. “The reason I didn’t call you back the night Henry passed and seemed to shut you out until now, was that I had a clear but debilitating insight into who I’d been.

  “I need you, Hunter. Realizing how badly was like a double-aught shotgun blast between the eyes. I need a family. I want my own family. I’ll remain an empty shell without it. You want that, too. You had it and miss it. I feel that as profoundly as I feel my heart beating. I felt it when you were a sweet little ingenue right out of college. Dear God, I wanted to snatch you up for myself before anyone else could get a chance at you. But Gramps wasn’t going to have any of that because he knew I hadn’t walked through enough fires. He was right, I didn’t deserve you.”

  Cord took one of her hands and kissed her fingertips. “I had more to say, but you’re awfully quiet.”

  “I’m taking all this in…and thinking. So all you need to know is if I could love you?”

  “No. I’ve changed my mind. Now I need to know you do love me. Because I love you—so much that it hurts to live with the yearning.”

  There had been enough words for now, Hunter decided. Coming around the edge of the counter, she went into his arms and kissed him.

  Cord wasted no time in using his uninjured arm to lock her against him as he hungrily tried to absorb her with his own kisses. This time he was the one left shaking.

  “Do you realize how long I’ve been waiting for this?” he whispered against her lips.

  “Poor, deprived bachelor.”

  “This is no time to tease a man whose heart is in his throat.”

  “My heart stays in my throat almost every time you look at me,” she said, touching his cheek.

  “Then you’ve seen what I feel for you—” it wasn’t a question “—and all that I want to do with you.”

  His body’s need made that grow increasingly apparent. But there was just one more thing she wanted him to know.

  “I’ve never been able to trust in happiness for long,” she began. “Not without something awful happening and ruining things. The blow of realizing Denny wasn’t who I believed was the last straw for me. It made me avoid dating and lose myself in work.”

  “Until Jack came along.”

  “No. I’ll admit, I agreed to go out with him because I thought it would make you leave me alone. I thought, at best, you wanted a mistress, a temporary lover. But Jack was only a favor for Danica. The truth is,” she added, stroking her thumb over his firm lips, “we’re more alike than you know. I’d rather have whatever time I’m allowed with you than an eternity of this emptiness. I love you, Cord.”

  At the moment their lips came together again, he uttered a soft groan deep in his throat and held her fiercely against his heart. This time it felt like a homecoming, and their kisses were sweet and ardent all at the same time. With gratitude as well as her freed curiosity to learn every inch of him, Hunter slowly slid her hands up and down his back. He was lean but toned a
nd she made a mental note to ask him if he was athletic or did he secretly work out at the estate instead of a gym to keep fit? There was so much she didn’t know, so much they didn’t know about each other. What was important now, though, was to love him without reservation.

  The last time they’d stood here, he’d been angry and urgent, afraid. She understood now that he’d been afraid of losing what wasn’t yet his. Now, as he invited her with deep, coaxing kisses, she responded, releasing all of the passion she’d locked inside herself.

  “Hunter…”

  “Come with me.” As his body was already telling her of his need, hers was emitting its own messages. Taking his uninjured hand, she led him to her bedroom.

  The bedside lamp was still on from when she first woke, and the dark burgundy shade pushed the light down and across the satin red-and-gray, geometric-patterned bedspread. That and the dove-gray walls often made her think of being adrift in a mist-cloaked sea. It was an invitation to oblivion that helped her relax after long hours or stressful days at the station. But bringing Cord here made her see the romantic aura in the room—romantic in a serious, mature way. Of course, even when younger, she’d never been a lace-and-ruffles kind of girl.

  “I wondered what it was like in here.”

  Cord only briefly surveyed their surroundings, and Hunter heard something controlled in his voice. “Did you?” She unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and pulled it out of the waistband of his trousers. As she began to ease the silk over his shoulders, Hunter touched her lips to where his heart beat powerfully. “And what did you imagine?”

  “I couldn’t. I kept getting hung up on the image of Denny here,” he admitted.

  Stepping behind him to finish helping him off with the shirt, Hunter then laid it on the gray parson’s chair in the corner nearest the bathroom door. Returning to him, she stroked her hands up and down his back, then slid them around his waist and caressed his chest and taut abdomen. “Things are totally different now.” With every word, her lips caressed the flesh between his shoulder blades. “I was in a snow-blind phase. Everything was white. Afterward, it felt unclean, so I donated the entire bedroom set, every fixture and piece of art, every towel and linen, to a single mother I’d heard about who was struggling to support herself and her two children because her worthless ex refused to pay child support. There’s been no one here since but me,” she said, stroking her cheek against him. “This is our place now.”

  “I’m sorry for what he did to you. But thank you for wanting…changes—damn, Hunter, come here.”

  She had been enjoying learning his musculature, how with the most delicate strokes, she could make his pulse leap, and when she’d trailed her fingers down the zipper flap of his pants, she’d triggered his impatience. When he spun around, he swept her up into his arms—only to end up groaning in pain for the reckless move.

  His wound, she realized, and wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist to relieve him of her weight against his arm.

  “Better?”

  “Glorious. Kiss me again.”

  As with his entreaty, there was a yearning in their union that filled her heart with the sweetness and beauty of it. “You need to let me get your pants off.”

  “What a hell of a time to get hurt,” Cord muttered in self-disgust. “I’m the one who should be undressing you.”

  “I’ll give you a rain check. Sit down,” she told him. “Unless you want to risk a return trip to the E.R. so you can get those stitches redone.”

  Murmuring another expletive, Cord sat down on the bed.

  Unhooking her ankles and shifting back on his lap, Hunter slid her legs beside his hips.

  Breathing more deeply, he stroked her calves and thighs. “Besides lap dancing and being double-jointed, what other talents do you possess?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I thought we’d discover that as we move along.”

  With another rasp of gratitude, he slid his hands under her sleep shirt to discover the bit of lace she almost wasn’t wearing beneath. “Heaven help me,” he said, pressing a kiss between her breasts. “If I knew then what I know now…”

  Laughing softly, Hunter gently urged him to lie down. “That’s what happens when you don’t have anyone to spend your money on. I spoil myself with nice lingerie.”

  “Remind me to give you a raise.” Continuing his exploration upward, he caressed her bare back before moving to cover her breasts with his hands. Sucking in a harsh breath. “Sweet reality. You feel exquisite. I want to see.”

  But his bandages slowed him again as the teeth on the clasp almost caught in her sleep shirt. As he swore and apologized, Hunter swept the thing over her head and tossed it in the direction of the chair.

  “So beautiful,” Cord murmured, coaxing her down to his mouth.

  Hunter gave herself to his lips, tongue and fingers, closing her eyes at the sensual ministrations. As her need grew, she arched closer to get more and rocked helplessly against his arousal because she felt every moist lave of his tongue and flick of his thumb in her womb.

  “Just loosen my pants,” he entreated. “I need to be inside you.”

  Wanting him to stretch completely out on the bed so he could be more comfortable, she slid off of him and crouched to quickly remove his shoes and socks, then stood to unbuckle his belt and unfasten his slacks.

  Mesmerized once she succeeded in her task, Cord slipped his fingers into her lacy thong. “What color do they call this?”

  “Paradise Pearl.”

  “It certainly is.”

  Once they were naked, Cord reached for her, but Hunter evaded him to fold down the bedspread and the top sheet. In the next instant, she found herself on her back and quickly covered by Cord’s hard body. For torturous moments they simply gazed into each other’s eyes as they absorbed the provocative sensations of their nudity. There was almost an unspoken contest as to who could stay still the longest, but being male, he was created to lose in that challenge of wills.

  When he saw the light of amusement in her eyes, Cord uttered a rumbling growl deep in his throat and slid down to finish his survey of her body. Each breath came more quickly or grew more labored. Their bodies, once cool, became feverish and damp as they explored and aroused. It never crossed Hunter’s mind to be shy with him, even when he explored her intimately with his mouth, as he had with his fingers.

  But when she eased back from that first crest of ecstasy, Hunter knew she didn’t want to go over the edge and through that little death without him. “Please,” she whispered, drawing him upward. “Now.”

  Rising above her, Cord eased himself into her.

  Hunter trembled as her body adjusted, then thrilled to his slick, powerful invasion. She wrapped her arms around him to bring all of him back against her.

  Groaning, Cord lightly scored the side of her neck with his teeth, only to shudder and bury his face in her hair. “I’m going to disappoint you the first time,” he told her.

  “You can’t. You feel too good.”

  “Darling…”

  His whisper sounded more like a prayer. Her heart overflowing, Hunter buried her hands in his hair, then dug her heels in beside his hips and led them in that ancient dance that carried them to oblivion.

  When Cord opened his eyes again, he wasn’t sure if it was ten minutes or ten hours later. The darkness offered little help. They were still sleeping spoon fashion, and not only was he reluctant to lose this indescribable feeling, he hated intruding on Hunter’s rest. But besides needing to know what time it was, he was hungry. Ravenous for her again, as well. He wouldn’t let himself do anything about that for a while; she felt as insubstantial as a dream in his arms and needed to rest.

  “I’m awake.” Lifting his bandaged hand that had found safety from accidental bumps by covering her left breast, she kissed his exposed fingertips. “Go ahead and move if you have to.”

  First, Cord buried his face in her hair, kissed her behind her ear and breathed in
her scent. “I’m bone-dry and starving. What time is it?”

  Stretching a bit, Hunter read, “One on the nose. I can go get that wine and food.”

  “A couple of bottles of water, too?”

  Already switching on the nightstand light and twisting out of bed to reach for her sleep shirt, Hunter said, “Done.”

  Captivated anew by her beauty and her comfort with her body, Cord didn’t head for the bathroom until he heard the refrigerator open in the kitchen. How quickly life could change. Inevitably he thought of all yesterday had held. Now, however, there was only peace and joy.

  He’d fantasized about endlessly making love with Hunter over the years, and nothing was supposed to be able to top a fantasy. However, reality was better. He smiled with pleasure at the discoveries he was already making about her—her indulgence for enticing lingerie, her pleasure with exploring his body, her playfulness and wicked sense of humor…her genuine enjoyment of sex.

  Making love.

  There was a difference, he admitted a minute later as he exited the bathroom while fastening a towel around his waist. He’d never believed it. He’d heard some guys who were in serious relationships talk, and in very private moments he dreamed, but he could never have dreamed of what he’d experienced tonight with Hunter.

  In the kitchen, he found her tearing the wrapping off of what turned out to be heated garlic toast; she added it to a shallow bowl of nuked ravioli.

  “That actually smells great…but it looks scary,” he told her, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist for a snuggle.

  “It’s take-out and homemade, not from a machine. There’s a family place just a few streets away. I buy an entire lasagna-size pan at a time and portion it. Half Italian sausage, half four-cheese.”

  “But only one plate.”

  “And one fork. It’s called sharing and romantic. Come on. You carry the wine. Oh, and I forgot the water. Better get you a tray.” After getting things situated again, she led the way back to the bedroom.