He trailed kisses back to her chin, then his mouth took hers, beginning a slow rhythm with his tongue while his hips began a slow rhythm against hers. She was all breathless wonder and warm acquiescence, but she didn't touch him, not even to clasp him against her.
"Put your arms around me," he whispered against her mouth. "I want you to hold me."
Her breath caught.
"I want you to touch me. Anywhere. Everywhere. Don't hold anything back. I want whatever you have to give me."
He had given her freedom, but she found she couldn't take it. Not yet. Charles held her hands as surely as if he were in the room. She tried to comply, but she was limp with distress.
Somehow Matthew seemed to understand. "My shirt is wet," he said. "And I don't want to stop touching you."
She undressed herself every day. She helped Jody dress and undress. But the distance to his top button seemed an endless mile. He felt the trembling in her hands and wanted to strangle the man who had put it there. "Yes," he encouraged her. "Your hands against my skin are wonderful."
The next button was easier, and the next. But the last was hardest of all. Matthew buried his face against her shoulder. "I want to feel all of you against me," he said more harshly than he'd meant to. "Don't make me wait."
She reacted by stiffening, and he cursed his own impatience. It seemed a part of him, a slowly growing beast that was demanding satisfaction before she was anywhere near ready to give it. He cursed three years of abstinence and the allure of the woman in his arms.
His tone was an apology. "Alexis, if I wanted you less, this would be easier."
The last button slipped out of its hole. She slid her hands over his chest and against his shoulders, pushing the shirt away. He knew better than to clasp her tightly. He knew enough to go slowly, to let her learn the feel of him inch by inch. He knew better, but his control was slipping. He groaned and positioned himself so that he could feel her breasts press against him. His mouth sought hers once more, to apologize, to coax.
She was overwhelmed by sensation. He was so much larger than she, so much stronger. For a moment she panicked, struggling against him. He moved away a little, and his mouth slid to her cheeks, to her nose, to her forehead. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"I'm sorry," she said fiercely. "This can't be what you need!"
"You're what I need, and I'll take you any way you give yourself."
Her indrawn breath was a sob. Involuntarily her arms went around him, not to push him away, but to hold him close. He groaned and let her, giving in to the luxury of her body pressed to his.
She began to lose herself in his warmth. She began to feel his strength as a gift, not a threat. She began to move with the age-old rhythm of desire until he slid off the shorts and panties that still clung soddenly to her and she was naked against him.
The buckle of his belt dug into the soft flesh of her abdomen. She slid the tongue from its hole and pulled the belt out of the loops of his jeans. "Yes," he said against her mouth. His hands moved over her body, faster, surer, learning what pleased her. He waited for her to finish undressing him, and the wait was torture. He knew what she suffered, and he knew he couldn't cure her. She had to act willingly or not at all.
She was flooded with longing. He knew her intimately now, knew that she was afraid, knew that she wanted to be set free from it. And still he held her, made slow, perfect love to her. He was everything she had once dreamed a lover could be and every dream she had since abandoned.
And all she had to do to bring back dreams was to finish undressing him. Her hands wouldn't move. Once, in the nightmare of her marriage, Charles had tied her hands. He tied them just as effectively now, although only she knew they were bound. She fought her fear, named it and tried to cast it away, but she couldn't. She could only, finally, beg for help.
"I can't undress you," she whispered, close to tears. "Matthew, please help me."
If he was chilled by her refusal, he was warmed by her plea. He covered her hands with his, moving them to his hips, then around to his zipper. He held her hands in his as he slid it down, and his hands continued to cover hers as he slipped them inside his jeans to inch them over his hips.
In moments he was naked beside her. She began to explore him, tentatively at first, but with more assurance as his breathing grew harsher and his hands moved more quickly over her.
Matthew knew she might not be ready, might never be ready for his lovemaking, but he knew, too, that waiting forever, waiting even seconds longer, was impossible. Perhaps neither of them was ready, but both of them had to know.
He moved on top of her, framing her face with his hands. "Say my name," he said, kissing her deeply after he had said the words to reassure her.
"Matthew," she said, her lips still pressed to his. "Say mine."
"Alexis." He waited for her to show him she wanted him. She spread her legs, winding them around him. He had needed a small sign; she had issued an unmistakable invitation. With thought suspended by that small, significant act, he thrust once, entering her with such a thrill of pleasure that he was dizzied by its intensity.
She cried out in surprise and wonder. She had expected a gentle entry, a coaxing. Instead he had lost control, and suddenly she knew how much he desired her.
Alexis knew that tears were sliding down her cheeks, tears far different from the ones she had cried earlier. She cried now because dreams could be found, because men could be gentle and strong, and because for the first time in her life she knew what it was like to be touched by love.
Then the tears stopped, and the dreams were at last discovered, safe and whole. And love. . . love began in earnest.
* * *
"WHAT ABOUT JODY?"
Alexis stirred in Matthew's arms. She had been asleep, a deep, peaceful sleep like none she could remember. "Umm...."
"I didn't even think about Jody." Matthew turned her to him. He was whispering. "Is she going to walk in on us any minute?"
"She's away overnight. At a sleepover."
"Then we're alone."
"Except for the koala in the tree out front. It's the one you rescued the first day." Alexis yawned and opened her eyes. The room was dark, but her eyes adjusted quickly. Beside her Matthew seemed huge and impossibly, gloriously male. She wondered how there was enough room in the bed for both of them.
"So he came back."
"Blind faith. When the shooting started, I was afraid they'd find him next. It seemed as if that would be the ultimate injustice."
"And so you got your gun and went shooting, too."
She heard the censure in his voice. "I'd do it again. Next time I might shoot right at them."
"You could have been killed."
"You said that earlier.''
Matthew pulled her head to his shoulder. It surprised him how well she fit against him. But everything surprised him: the shattering pleasure he had found in her arms; his pride that she had trusted him; his mounting desire to have her again. Perhaps most of all he was surprised that he wasn't racked with guilt that he now held another woman. But what had happened didn't touch what he'd had with Jeannie. It was different and would always remain so.
"I've lived so much of my life in fear," she said minutes later, knowing Matthew hadn't gone back to sleep. "I won't live that way anymore."
"There's a thin line between courage and recklessness. Promise me you won't go after the poachers again."
Her voice was husky and tempting. "You sleep with a woman, Matthew, and then you begin asking for promises?"
"Only if I think I have a small prayer of getting them."
"We haven't yet reached that stage," she said, turning over so that her leg caressed his and her breasts brushed his arm. "That's a big promise."
His lips turned up in a slow smile—a smile by degrees. "What is it you Yanks say? Something about feeling your oats?"
"Now what would make you say something like that?" She glided one hand across his chest, taking her time so that
every texture, every muscle, knew her fingertips before she'd finished.
He just caught the hint of shyness behind the sexiest smile he had ever seen. He took her hand and moved it lower. "You've just begun," he said. "Let's not waste an excellent start."
"Still looking for promises?"
He threaded both hands into her hair and began to pull her closer. "Right now, enchantress, I think I'm looking for something more immediately satisfying."
Neither of them mentioned it, because both of them were afraid to. But when Alexis lay beside Matthew once more, wrung dry and aching from spent pleasure, she knew he would stay the night. His breathing slowed, and he turned a little to gather her closer.
She wondered what he was feeling. He had made it clear from the day they'd met that he wanted no one in his life. Now he was sleeping peacefully beside her, sharing her blankets, sharing her warmth.
And giving warmth. She'd never known that warmth could be exchanged, could spread and grow until it was a conflagration inside both of them. She had never known that she was capable of such fire. Her own flames had been banked, not extinguished as she had thought. And out of the ashes of her past Matthew had fanned her passion into flames once more.
She wondered if she had done the same for him. He didn't talk about his feelings. He had said next to nothing about his past, nothing about his wife and son. He had let her know he was thinking only of her when they had made love, but now she wondered who he dreamed of as he slept.
There had been no promises, only warmth slowly building to fire. She could make no promises. Not yet. Not until she knew she and Jody were safe at last.
But when that day came, would there be promises, or would the ashes of their pasts smother the flames that had ignited tonight?
She didn't know. She only knew that for the first time in many years, she could hope.
Chapter 10
DO YOU LOVE Matthew?" Jody lay belly down on her mother's bed, finishing a crossword puzzle.
"Is the answer 12 Across or 44 Down?"
Jody rolled her eyes. "Do you?"
Alexis stood in a full slip, gazing into her closet. In half an hour she and Jody were meeting Matthew at the park to go on a picnic. A week had passed since their night together and Alexis had only seen him once. She was looking forward to having a whole afternoon with him. Fleetingly she wished there could be even more, but Jody had to be considered. For now she and Matthew would have to be content with stolen mornings, mornings like the one several days before when, after Jody's school bus was far down the road, he'd appeared with fresh muffins and stayed for more than morning tea.
"I'm wondering why you've asked," Alexis said, reaching for a blue chambray gathered skirt and matching blouse. She wasn't sure the outfit was entirely appropriate for a picnic, but she liked the way it flowed around her legs in the breeze, and she suspected Matthew would, too.
"I'd like it if you'd love somebody," Jody said with a child's candor. "Annie's mom and dad held hands under the table at the sleepover. I saw them." Alexis turned and saw that Jody was frowning. "Did you and my father ever hold hands?"
As Jody grew, she asked more and more questions about Charles. It was only natural, but Alexis's aversion to answering them was just as natural. She didn't want to turn Jody against the man who had helped conceive her, but neither did she want to paint a warm, glowing picture that not only wouldn't jibe with Jody's own memories but might someday send her in search of him.
"I was very young when I married your father," she said at last. "Neither of us was really in love. That sometimes happens, sweetheart. People marry for the wrong reasons, even if they don't know it at the time. Your father and I were very wrong for each other, but we did one right thing. We had you." She smiled, hoping to lift the frown from Jody's face.
"I'd like a new father." Jody bent her head back to her puzzle book.
Alexis didn't know what to say. She began to rummage in her jewelry box for a necklace to wear.
"Do you love Matthew?"
Alexis imagined she'd hear the question again and again until she finally answered it. "I don't know."
"You have trouble telling, don't you?"
"It's not as easy as they make it look on television."
"I'll be able to tell."
"When I fall in love, or when you do?"
"When I do. I'm going to marry a man like Matthew, or maybe like Gray or Dillon." She put her pencil eraser in her mouth and chewed on it as she thought about her choices. "Or Adam—except I think I might get tired of all those sheep after a while."
Alexis laughed and sent up a silent prayer of gratitude. After a tough start, Jody was learning about men from some of the best. "A man like any one of them would do nicely."
Just as Alexis thought the subject had been put to rest, Jody added one last thought. "A man who doesn't hit me," she said, closing her puzzle book. "Not a man like my father."
* * *
CAPE DU COUEDIC lay at the extreme southwest tip of Kangaroo Island and Flinders Chase. Until 1940, the cape had never seen a motor vehicle, but it had seen several tragic shipwrecks. A rustic stone lighthouse loomed well back from the Cliffside as testimony to the South Australian government's vigilance in keeping the coastal waters safe.
Matthew parked Alexis's wagon near the lighthouse and came around to help her out. The nine mile drive to the cape had been along a narrow, winding road that, although perfectly safe, had been rutted and rough. To prove that this new road was a vast improvement over the one the lighthouse keepers had once traversed, Matthew had told hilarious stories about the trials of those days as reported to Harry by rangers before him.
"It's beautiful here." Alexis took Matthew's hand and let him help her out of the seat. She found almost any excuse for touching him a good one. He didn't drop her hand when she was standing beside him. He tucked it under his arm and extended a hand to Jody.
"And this is where the lighthouse keepers live?" Jody bounded out of her seat, pulling Matthew and Alexis toward a group of houses that was set back from the lighthouse itself.
"Not anymore, I'm afraid. The lighthouse is automatic now."
"Oh " Jody stopped, obviously disappointed. "I wanted to know what it was like to live here."
"Very lonely. No telephone. No television. Not even a mail delivery. Every two weeks or so the keepers sent their children along the road back to Rocky River to fetch the mail."
"They walked?" Jody was truly astonished.
"Walked or rode an old horse. There's one story about a new keeper, a fellow who had never ridden in his life. Someone had to go fetch the mail, and since he was the newest, they sent him. They told him to just sit on the horse's back and the horse would know the way."
"Did he make it?" Jody hung on every word, just as she'd hung on every word Matthew had said that day.
"Afraid not. It was a hot day, and he fell asleep on the horse's back. The horse was hot, too, so when he came to a fork in the road, he just turned around and went back home. When he arrived, the keepers woke the poor bloke up and sent him on his way again. They say it was almost midnight when he finally got back with the mail."
"And I'll bet they had to pry him off the horse." Alexis tucked her arm more solidly under Matthew's. He clasped her hand and smiled down at her. Their eyes held, and communicated the feelings they had never really put into words.
"I'd like to ride a horse like that," Jody said enthusiastically. "It would be fun to get the mail."
"Is this the same girl who has to be shoved out of the car to run into the post office for me?"
"That's different." But to be sure there was no argument about why, Jody broke free and skipped toward the lighthouse without them.
"You're a good mother," Matthew observed.
Alexis rubbed her cheek against his shoulder in gratitude. She had always effectively been a single parent, and it had rarely been easy. "I try." She waited, hoping that Matthew would say something, anything, about his own days as
a parent. But he didn't. He never mentioned his marriage or his son, as if his memories were still too painful.
"She hasn't had a smooth childhood, but it doesn't show. You've gotten her through it."
"Life will never be smooth for her. She's too intense. She sees too much. I'm just trying to teach her how to take everything one step at a time and how not to expect perfection."
"Is that how you manage?"
"That and dreaming."
He wanted to ask her where her dreams took her now, but he wasn't ready for an answer. His own dreams had been confusing and agonizing. His nightmares of Jeannie and Todd's deaths had been replaced by nightmares where Alexis and Jody were in danger. There was one that had especially haunted him. Jody and Alexis were sitting in a grove of gum trees. He was running to warn them they were in danger when, from the distance, he could see the bodies of koalas begin to fall from the trees. He ran, but couldn't get closer. As he watched in horror, a man stepped from behind a tree and pointed a rifle at them. It was the evangelist from his childhood memories, and as the man pulled the trigger he screamed "Judgment!"
Matthew couldn't tell Alexis about his dreams. He wasn't even sure he could bear to dream them. He only knew that after the worst night, he'd had to see her. He had gone to her house that next morning to be sure she was all right, and when he'd seen that she was, he had thrown away his nightmares and made love to her.
"I'm glad we're seeing more of the park with you."
He pulled himself back from the precipice of bad memories. "The Chase is a special place. I want to show you all of it. It's so vast, so different from one end to another, that you can never grow tired of it."
Alexis knew Matthew was talking about the future. "You have a wonderful job. In a way, you have more of the future in your hands than almost anyone I've known."
He was surprised she would think so. Jeannie had never really liked his job. She had been a Sydney girl, and the city was where she felt most at home. She had come to Kangaroo Island with him willingly, and she had never complained. But he’d known her well enough to understand that she often longed for more than the island could give her. She had turned her considerable energy into making a home for her husband and son, but it had never really been enough. To compensate, she had made frequent visits back home, and it was at the start of one of them that she and Todd had been killed.
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