“Good,” he said softly. “Still, I think we’d better get you dry.” His hands cupped her breast from below and lifted it into high prominence. The towel moved over the mound slowly and thoroughly, until her breath was coming in little gasps and her gaze was clinging to his face as if she were drowning. “Aren’t they lovely?” he asked softly. “Like luscious ripe apples.” He lifted the other breast and began to towel it with the same thoroughness. “I feel like I’m shining an apple for the teacher.” He gently released her breast and began to dry her abdomen. “Only, I’m the teacher who’s going to enjoy them.” He dropped to his knees in front of her. “Spread your legs, love.”
She obeyed slowly, gazing down at him in bemusement. Her hands were still wound in his hair, and she found herself moving them in a loving, stroking motion. His lips were pressed against her belly, and his tongue suddenly darted out to lick teasingly at her navel. He rubbed the towel up and down on her soft inner thighs with soothing gentleness.
“I like your hands on me.” She could barely hear the words, muffled against her skin. “I’d like them all over me. Gentle and then harder, your nails digging into me.” The towel was suddenly between her legs. Her hands tightened in his hair as her hips tilted instinctively forward. The motion of the towel was no longer slow and gentle. It was hard and fast, and the rough friction was unbelievably erotic.
“Sandor.” The name was gasped between her clenched teeth. “Stop, it’s too—”
“Too much?” The towel was instantly gone from between her thighs. Instead it was draped around her buttocks. “I’ll try to be more gentle. I’m barely holding on, and it’s difficult to …” The words trailed off as he began to cover her lower belly with tiny nipping kisses, his teeth pressing just enough to arouse without hurting. He began to move the towel from side to side in a slow, rhythmic tempo. “Is that better?”
If by “better,” he meant sheer sensual torture, it was definitely better. The combination of the friction of the towel on her buttocks and the abrasion of his teeth and tongue was driving her insane. “No. I’m hurting. I want …”
He looked up. His gaze was intent and wild in his taut face. “Are you?” He suddenly dropped the towel, and his bare hands were on her buttocks, his face buried against her stomach as he desperately clutched her close. “Lord, so am I, love,” His open mouth was moving over her in a hundred frantic kisses. “I have to be inside you.”
“Here?” It wasn’t an objection. She was far beyond the point of objection. She only wanted him to make love to her.
His hands clenched her buttocks as he went tense. “I’m behaving like an animal. Is that what you mean?”
Startled, she said, “No, never.”
“Maybe I am an animal.” His hands released her and he was suddenly on his feet, unbuttoning his shirt. “There have been moments lately when I’ve wondered if I’d ever be anything else after this damn war is over.” He was taking off his shirt and throwing it aside. His fingers were on his belt. “I was ready to throw you down on the ground and take you like one of the whores who follow my troops.” He was naked now, and she caught a glimpse of lean, tanned muscles and an arousal so bold, her eyes widened in surprise. “And if you don’t get the hell out of here, I’m still going to do it. I won’t be able to stop myself.” He stepped from the bank and into the pond. Water splashed everywhere as he began to cleave through the pond, his arms moving with explosive violence. He stopped in the center of the pool to look back at her. He stood up, and the water lapped around his hips. “What are you waiting for? Get dressed and get back to camp.”
Puzzled, she stared at him. “What’s wrong?” She was still aching with an emptiness it now appeared he had no intention of filling. “I wasn’t fighting you. I wanted you to make love to me.”
“I know you did.” He scowled. “Will you please put your clothes on? This cold water isn’t helping as much as I hoped it would.”
“All right.” She bent down to unfasten the knapsack, her attention on his bewildering reversal. She pulled out a pair of bikini panties and slipped them on. “You wanted it too.” She fastened her bra and thrust her arms into the yellow blouse. “Why did you stop?”
“Because I’m not an animal.” His gaze was following her fingers with fascination as she buttoned the blouse. “Yet. And because I don’t want to give you a quick roll in the hay you’ll be able to dismiss later. When we come together it’s going to mean something to both of us. I can wait.”
Well, she wasn’t sure she could. She stepped into her jeans and pulled them up. She hadn’t expected her sexuality to explode this way. It must have been like a ticking bomb inside her all these years, waiting for a spark to set it off. Except Sandor Karpathan was more like a forest fire than a spark, she thought. She could feel his fire touching her still as she stood looking at him. She could feel her breasts swell and thrust against the cotton of her bra as her gaze went over him.
He had looked slender when he was dressed. Naked, his sinewy muscularity belied his slenderness. His broad shoulders tapered down to slim hips and a flat belly. His chest was corded with heavy muscles and feathered with a triangle of dark hair. The thick nest of hair below his belly was also dark, and she found her gaze following in fascination the arrow of springy hair until it disappeared beneath the water.
“Alessandra.”
Her gaze flew guiltily up to his face. There were amusement, gentleness, and exasperation in his expression. “Don’t do this to me, love. Let me set the pace. All right?”
She hurriedly thrust her feet into her shoes and gathered her discarded clothes together. “My hair’s a mess. Do you have a brush I can use?”
“In my tent. Ask anyone to show you where it is.”
“Very well. I’ll send someone back with a fresh change of clothes for you.” She picked up the soap from the grass. “Catch.” She tossed him the soap.
He caught it easily, his gaze fixed on her face. “Are you angry?”
“No.” She turned away. “But I don’t like to have decisions taken out of my hands. You might find our next encounter ends quite differently.”
“Lord, I certainly hope so.” His voice was so rueful, she had to smile. “A defeat would have been welcome in this particular engagement.”
“I’m glad you’re resigned to it.” She started toward the path leading back to camp.
“Alessandra.”
She looked back at him over her shoulder.
“I’m not going to be someone you can walk away from.” His eyes were grave. “We want each other, and I’m going to build on that. By the time we become lovers, you’re going to be as wild for me as I am for you.” He smiled gently. “And then we’re going to take the next step.”
The next step? She was half afraid to ask what he meant. She’d been bombarded by too many new emotions and ideas already today. She started to turn away again and then stopped. She didn’t look at him, and her voice was low. “You shouldn’t worry, Sandor. You’re not an animal. I know about animals, and you’ll never come close to being one.” She thrust the branches of the bushes aside and quickened her footsteps toward the path a few yards ahead.
Paulo Debuk didn’t return to camp until late that evening. He came as silently as he had gone. One moment Alessandra was sitting alone, gazing into the fire, and the next he was squatting beside her, presenting the note in his hand with a little flourish. “Mission accomplished.” He grinned. “I would have been back before sundown, but your Father Dinot had a few errands for me to run. He said he wanted to be able to tell you the lines of communication were in place.” He lifted a shaggy brow. “You aren’t a spy, by any chance? If you are, I must show you some tricks to move around freely without being seen. People our size must take certain precautions.”
“I’m not a spy,” she assured him solemnly, her eyes twinkling. “However, if I ever change my vocation I’ll know whom to come to for lessons.” She nodded at the note in her hand. “You’re obviously a very talented m
an.”
“Yes, I am.” He reached for a stick and idly poked the fire. “I’m convinced Sandor couldn’t have won this war without me.”
“Won? You speak as if victory were already a fact.”
“It is. That’s why Sandor is on edge. It was easier for him when all his energy was centered on winning. He’s not good at waiting.” He glanced around. “Where is Sandor?”
Her gaze shifted back to the fire. “I’m not sure. I haven’t spoken to him since this afternoon. I did see him go into the command tent earlier this evening with several of his officers.”
He stood up. “Then I think I will go find him and tell him what a magnificent job I did for you. Not that he will expect anything else. I always do a magnificent job.”
“I’m sure you do.” She began to unfold the note and looked up to smile at him. “Thank you for doing it magnificently again this time. It means a great deal to me.”
“It was nothing.” He turned away. “Even if you weren’t the Tanzar’s woman, I would have done it. It posed a few interesting problems.”
“I told you, I’m not the Tanzar’s wom—”
He wasn’t listening. He was strolling away in the direction of the command tent. His demeanor was casual, almost careless, but she noticed there was not even the snapping of a twig under his foot to signal his departure.
She glanced down at the note in her hand. Father Dinot had been very thorough and gone into great detail. He had listed names, addresses, and personal backgrounds of the people he had chosen as contacts and distributors. She settled down and began to read, her brow furrowed in concentration.
“Satisfied?”
She looked up to see Sandor standing beside her. He had changed into a dark green field uniform and combat boots. The military garb reinforced the impression of toughness and strength he gave. “I think so.” She began to refold the note. “I’ll have to send someone back to Tamrovia to be sure there’s no breakdown in the network, but Father Dinot appears to have made excellent choices.”
“Good.” He sat down beside her. “I don’t suppose you’d give me the information and let me check on it for you?”
She hesitated. “I can’t do that.”
“I see.” A flicker of pain crossed his face. “Your confidence in me doesn’t go very deep, does it?”
Her eyes were troubled. “It’s the children. I don’t have a right to risk their welfare.” She met his gaze directly. “I trust what you are today. It’s what you may become tomorrow that I have qualms about. I’ve seen too much.…” She lifted her shoulders in a half shrug. “If you can’t accept it, I’ll understand.”
“That’s very kind of you.” There was a touch of bitterness in his voice. “I don’t accept it. I won’t accept it. It’s not good enough. One of these days you’re going to tell me you’ll not only trust me tomorrow, but for the next fifty years.” He stood up and pulled her to her feet. “Come on, let’s get some sleep. We have to leave at dawn.”
“We? You’re going with me?”
“We have fifteen miles to travel through enemy territory to reach the airfield. It’s my fault you have to make that trip. Do you think I’d let you go without me?” His lips twisted. “And heaven knows, I have nothing to do but sit on my rump for the next two days. I might just as well be hiking across the country.”
“Hiking,” she repeated warily. “You mean we’re going to be walking?”
“How the hell else do you think we’re going to get to the airfield?”
“I do not care how we get there.” She enunciated each word clearly. “Train, car, helicopter, burro. You choose. But I do not walk.”
“This time you do,” he said grimly. “I’m sorry not to have arranged to transport Your Highness more comfortably. I’m sure Bruner would have bought you a bulletproof Rolls-Royce, but I don’t have his resources at present. The strip Naldona now holds between here and the airfield is very well defended, even with antiaircraft artillery. Our best and safest way is on foot through the hills. Therefore, you will walk.”
“The hell I wi—” She broke off. She wouldn’t be alone crossing that dangerous strip of terrain. Sandor would be with her. She didn’t have the right to increase the danger to him even though it might mean discomfort or pain for her. “All right, I’ll walk.”
“You will?” Surprise and then amusement superseded grimness. “That was a little too easy. Why do I feel you may give me a karate chop and leave me abandoned in a ditch between here and the airfield?”
“The karate chop, maybe,” she said serenely. “But I wouldn’t leave you abandoned.”
“That’s good to know.” His hand was beneath her elbow, and he nudged her gently toward his tent. “It makes me feel considerably more secure.”
She paused just inside the flap of the tent, her gaze on the single cot pushed against the canvas wall. “I’m sleeping with you?” She tried to keep the tension from her voice.
“Yes.” Her fingers gently touched the line of her cheek. “Sleeping. Nothing else. I want you close to me, but the other tents are too near to give us any privacy.” His fingertips were feathering the corners of her mouth, and she felt a throbbing sensation wherever he touched her. “I want you to feel free to scream or moan or …” He bent forward to place a light kiss on the end of her nose. “Hell, I’ll probably be the one who does all the groaning. You’re going to drive me out of my mind.” He turned away, his fingers quickly unbuttoning his shirt. “Turn out the lantern, will you?”
“All right.” She moved forward a few steps and extinguished the Coleman lantern on the portable table beside the cot. “This cot isn’t very wide.”
“It’s only a little narrower than the bed we shared last night.”
“I guess so.” Did she sound as breathless as she felt? She sat down on the cot and took off her shoes and socks. Her eyes were becoming accustomed to the darkness, and she could make out Sandor’s shadowy figure a few feet away. “Shall I take off my clothes?”
He became very still. “I really wish you hadn’t asked that. I’ve been trying to talk myself into total abstention and control, and I think you’ve just blown my arguments into shrapnel.” He was coming toward her. “As much as I’d like to say yes, I think you’d better keep your clothes on, love.”
“Whatever you say.”
He was standing beside her, and he reached out to touch her back. “There you go again. Do you have to be so damn cooperative?”
“I feel cooperative.” And excited, frightened, and more eager than ever before in her life. “I’ll try to mend my ways.”
“Absolutely not. Now, scoot over, Alessandra.”
She moved to the far side of the cot. He settled down beside her and drew her into his arms. She inhaled sharply. He had only removed his shirt, boots, and socks, but the sudden feel of warm bare skin against her came as a shock.
“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”
“No,” she said faintly. “It was just the surprise.”
“But that isn’t all, is it?” His body was tense and hard against her own. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all, but I didn’t want to let tonight go by without grabbing something for myself.” His hands were framing her face. “This damn war. There’s no time. Do you know I haven’t even kissed you yet?” Then he was rectifying the omission with sweetness and passion. The darkness was suddenly alive with warmth and magic and tenderness. He lifted his head. “Take down your hair.”
“What?” she asked, wishing she could see his face. She wanted to know if his expression was as beautifully tender as his voice.
“I didn’t realize your hair was so long, until I saw you in the pond. I want to touch it.”
She didn’t answer, but her unsteady fingers went to the pins holding her bun in place. A moment later her hair was tumbling down her back. She dropped the pins carelessly. She probably wouldn’t be able to find them in the morning, but she couldn’t bother to be neat now. Sandor’s unsteady fingers were tangli
ng in her loosened hair. He was pulling her closer, then closer still. His lips covered hers again, and a low moan caught in her throat. She was trembling, too. She couldn’t seem to stop.
His hands were fumbling at the buttons of her blouse.
“I thought you said I wasn’t supposed to get undressed,” she murmured against his lips.
“I was insane. You shouldn’t pay any attention to the ravings of a madman.” The buttons were undone and his hands were at the front closing of her bra. “I want you in my hands. I want to feel you against me.” The bra was unfastened and her breasts tumbled free from the restraint. He drew her against him. Shock and heat. Her sensitive nipples were pressed against the soft wedge of hair on his chest, and she arched up against him with a little cry.
“Shhh. It’s all right.”
“It’s not all right.” It was aching pain and need. “I can’t take this.”
“Try.” His lips touched her throat with infinite gentleness. “I want you to feel you belong to me. I want you to sleep in my arms. I’m hurting, too, love.”
She could tell he was speaking the truth. His muscles were tensed with a painful rigidity. “This is crazy.”
His hands were gently stroking her hair. “We have to take what we can get. Tomorrow night I have to put you on a plane and get back here to receive the arms delivery.” His lips brushed her forehead. “But you’re right. I’m not being fair. I didn’t want you to hurt too. Go to sleep, love.”
She came close to laughing. How did he expect her to sleep when every muscle was tense and yearning for completion? “I’ll try.” She closed her eyes and firmly willed herself to sleep. It was a long time, however, before determination translated into action.
She awoke several times during the night. The first was to a delicate tugging at her nipple. She opened drowsy eyes to see Sandor’s dark head over her, his lips sucking gently. “Sandor?”
He lifted his head. “Go back to sleep. Everything’s fine. I can’t sleep. I’m just learning you.” He dropped a kiss on the nipple that had been receiving his attention. “And letting your body get to know me.” His lips feathered across her half-closed lids. “It likes me.”
'Til the End of Time: A Loveswept Contemporary Romance Page 7
