by Deborah Camp
She sighed. “Yes.”
“Well, neither do I.” He spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “But I don’t know how we can promise each other we won’t be hurt or disappointed, any more than we can promise each other that this will lead to a perfect marriage and beautiful children.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Whitney stared at her clasped hands, recognizing his logic but still needing more than cool reasoning. “But Shadow, I’d still like to know where I stand with you. You see, after Jean-Claude, I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t become involved in another one-sided relationship. I’m not going to break that promise; not even for you.”
He stood up and walked over to her, placing his hands on either side of the mantel behind her. “This relationship is not one-sided, Whitney. Not by a long shot. I assure you that my intentions are honorable.”
“You’re making fun of me,” she murmured.
“No, I’m not.” He bent his knees and tried to catch her gaze. “Whitney, look at me.”
She forced her eyes up to his and felt herself slip under his spell again.
“If I were a less honorable man, I’d sidestep this discussion or I’d lie and pledge my undying love and sweep you off your feet. I won’t do that to you.”
Whitney’s hopes began to wither. He didn’t care for her, he just wanted her. Well, it was better to know the lack of his feelings than to delude herself, she thought.
“What I can tell you is that I’ve never been so preoccupied with a woman before you came along. I can’t seem to get enough of you, Whitney. When I’m with you, I want to lose myself in you, and when I’m not with you, I can’t think of anything else but you. As far as getting hurt, I think we’re both susceptible to that. Believe me, if this doesn’t work out, I won’t be left unmoved. I’ll be hurting, just like you.”
“Oh, Shadow!” She slipped her arms around him and held him close, loving him all the more for revealing his vulnerability. “I’m sorry for bringing all this up, but—”
“You have a right, honey. You’re gun-shy and I don’t blame you.” He held her away from him. “One more thing, Whitney. I’m courting you, not your bank account.” He chuckled when she gasped softly and her eyes widened in surprise. “You have been wondering about that, haven’t you?”
Her cheeks grew warm with embarrassment. “Yes, but I always wonder about that with every man who shows an interest in me.”
“Well, I like making my own way in this old world, honey.” He kissed her forehead and drew her back into his arms. “And if you were as poor as a church mouse, I’d still want you here with me. Do you feel better about us now?”
“Much better.” Whitney pushed his vest down his arms and let it drop to the floor. “Now, what about that dessert you were cooking up for me?”
He laughed softly and nuzzled the side of her neck. “Won’t you step into my parlor?”
“Lead the way.”
Taking one of her hands, he guided her across the room and down a short hall to his bedroom. He left her on the threshold and switched on a bedside lamp that cast a rosy glow across the room.
Whitney blinked as her eyes adjusted, and then she gasped in awe. Before her, strewn all over the cream-colored sheets of the large bed, were red and white rose petals. She sought out Shadow’s gaze and basked in his smile.
“How sweet!” she whispered, her gaze moving back to the rose-petaled bed. “You … you did this for me?”
“No, I did it for me.” He laughed and hooked an arm about her waist. “Of course I did it for you, and I’m not sweet. I’m a romantic devil.”
“Oh, you are that,” Whitney said, pulling his mouth down to hers. His lips sparked her passion and his tongue stoked her fires. She slid her hands between their bodies and released the buttons on his shirt. “You’re overdressed,” she teased.
“Look who’s talking.” He grasped one of her wrists and examined the embroidered rosebuds on her cuff before unbuttoning it; then he undid the other. With tender care, he helped her remove the dress, her hose and her chemise. He moved back, his gaze caressing her body as he unzipped his trousers and stepped out of them.
As he removed his last scrap of clothing, a shiver of anticipation coursed through Whitney. She sat on the edge of the bed and the smell of roses surrounded her. It occurred to her that she would never again smell a rose without thinking of Shadow and this magical night.
Shadow dropped to his knees before her and buried his face between her breasts. The feel of his breath against her skin and the strength of his arms around her made her weak with pleasure and Whitney closed her eyes, her head dropping forward as she rested her cheek against the top of his head. He pushed her back until she was lying flat and he joined her, his body sliding against hers.
As he dropped moist kisses from her shoulders to her ankles, Whitney remained motionless, reveling in this display of devotion. Her earlier misgivings melted beneath Shadow’s ministrations and she relaxed. By the time his lips touched hers again, she had but one purpose: to return the pleasure that he had given. She grasped his shoulders and pushed him to his back.
“My turn,” she whispered. Her gaze moved from his smiling face to boldly explore his entire body. “Oh, Shadow. You’re so beautiful.” Her palms smoothed across his chest and she rained kisses there. The tip of her tongue darted, flicking over his stomach to experience the exotic, spicy taste of him.
Spreading her hands along his thighs, she felt the long muscles ripple under his skin, then her lips and tongue moved lower to a length of satiny skin, provoking a spasm of desire from Shadow.
“That’s right, that’s right,” he murmured throatily. “It feels so good … so good!”
She nuzzled the insides of his thighs, remembering how delicious it had felt when he had done this to her, and Shadow writhed away from her as if the pleasure were too much to bear. Fitting his hands underneath her arms, he pulled her up along his body until his mouth fastened on hers. His kiss bordered on savagery, and Whitney was amazed by her reaction to it. Her passion overflowed, and a moan, fraught with yearning, rose in her throat. Her entire body quivered as she kissed Shadow with hungry urgency, and Whitney knew she was embarking on an explosion, the likes of which she had never known before.
Shadow sensed the dramatic change in her and realized that she had shed every bit of inhibition. Her long, searching kisses challenged him to greater heights and he flipped her onto her back and molded his body on top of hers. Her silky legs tangled with his then slid up to hug his hips. As his mouth closed over one straining nipple, he rolled his tongue around the pebble of flesh, making her body arch into his as she drove her fingers through his hair with sweet urgency.
With the aroma of crushed roses filling his head, Shadow shifted between her thighs and penetrated her liquid femininity. He felt her fingers dig into his hips as he moved in and out until every part of his being seemed to center on the lower part of his body. He became aware only of the clutching warmth of her and the friction they were creating.
The force of his release stunned him into a mindless euphoria, and he shuddered into her, one corner of his mind registering her fevered chant of his name. Her lips covered his, demanding and unsatiated. Shadow moved his hips from side to side and opened his eyes to witness the sheen of ecstasy blossoming in her eyes before she squeezed them shut.
“Shadow … oh, Shadow …” Her voice quivered into a moan, and he couldn’t keep from kissing her moist lips which were no longer demanding, but sweet and pliant.
“It’s never been like this for me before,” he whispered against her lips. “Thank you, thank you.” Something glistened on her cheek and Shadow touched the tear with his fingertip, alarmed that she was crying. “What is it? Did I hurt you?”
“No,” she smiled and shook her head, “I’m okay. I’m just…just happy.” Placing her hands behind his head, she pulled his mouth to hers and delivered a lingering kiss. “You make me feel so special.”
“Oh
, honey.” It was all he could get past the lump of emotion wedged in his throat. He moved to his side and pulled her into his arms, holding her close to his heart.
He recalled the other women he had held like this and how he had thought at the time that he had cared deeply for them; but he knew differently now. Shadow kissed the top of Whitney’s head, thanking God for sending her to him and making him see the shallow wasteland of his past.
Minutes later he sensed that Whitney was asleep, but sleep evaded him. He wondered if he should tell her in the morning that he was hopelessly in love or if he should wait until he was more comfortable with this feeling before he shared it with her.
It was so strange being in love, he thought. In a way, it was terrifying to know that another person could exert so much power over him. To think that this 125-pound female could bring him to his knees! He smiled into the darkness and hugged her closer. Whitney stirred, murmuring something in her sleep, then relaxed again.
Shadow closed his eyes and breathed in the perfume of crushed rose petals. By postponing his declaration of love was he protecting Whitney or himself? True, she had enough on her mind these days without adding his own two cents worth, but there was more to it than that, if he were to be honest with himself, Shadow thought. Whitney had her doubts about this relationship, or else she wouldn’t have questioned him tonight about his feelings for her. He knew she had wanted him to lay her doubts to rest, but he couldn’t force the words past his lips because … well, because he was terrified.
Being in love with Whitney Campbell had its drawbacks. She could buy and sell him with her fortune, for one thing, and Shadow didn’t hold much faith in lifelong commitments when one of the partners was a policeman. He’d seen too many divorces among his fellow officers, and those failed marriages had made him realize that it would take a strong, brave woman to put up with a cop’s life.
Whitney had dressed him down tonight for treating her like a fragile doll, but Shadow couldn’t help but sense her wavering courage. Could she live with him, knowing that he was flirting with danger daily, and still maintain her courage?
And speaking of courage, Shadow thought with a slight wince, why was he so afraid of telling her that he loved her?
Because he was afraid that once he put the ball in her court she’d take it and go home, he answered himself. There was a strong possibility that Whitney, being an intelligent woman, might point out that a wealthy woman and a police detective could never make it as a married couple, and Shadow didn’t want to hear that from her.
He just wasn’t strong enough yet to place his tender feelings in Whitney’s hands and take the chance of having her crush them to bits.
Chapter Seven
Ashley Summer’s house was lit up like a Christmas tree as Shadow and Whitney approached the front door. Whitney raised her hand to ring the bell, but Shadow grabbed her wrist and stopped her.
“Before we announce ourselves, I just wanted to say something privately to you.”
“Oh?” Whitney placed her hands on his chest and looked up into his face. “I’m listening.”
“I just wanted to tell you that you’re gorgeous tonight.” He kissed her temple. “Absolutely gorgeous.”
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she said, stepping back from him to take in his tailored white trousers, white jacket, and black shirt. “We’re color-coordinated.”
“I wonder if that means we’re on the same wavelength?” Shadow murmured, his gaze moving over her black, sequined gown.
Whitney started to answer when the front door swung open. Ashley seemed surprised to find them on her doorstep, but she recovered quickly and welcomed them with a bright smile.
“I didn’t hear the doorbell,” Ashley said, taking Whitney’s arm and drawing her inside the house. “I guess we’re making too much noise. Come in and join the fun.” Ashley gave Shadow a cunning grin. “Come on in, Detective Tallwalker. You know your way around.”
“Thank you, and please call me Shadow.”
“Only if you’ll agree to calling me Ashley.” The blond delivered her most potent smile.
“It’s a deal.” Shadow glanced around the crowded living room. “It looks as if the entire Colony is here tonight.”
“No one misses an Ashley Summer party,” Ashley said with a proud tilt of her chin. “Not if they know what’s good for them.” She waved a hand to her left. “The bar is over there. Just help yourselves and have fun.”
“Thanks, Ashley.” Whitney turned to Shadow, tucking her hand in the nook of his arm. “Shall we?” They walked to the bar, and she stood to one side while Shadow waited for the barkeep to take his order.
Whitney took the time to appreciate the striking form Shadow cut among the celebrated and pampered guests. She decided he could hold his own handily among the Hollywood sex symbols, but she grudgingly admitted to herself that she was prejudiced. Having shared a velvety night, a glorious morning, and a heavenly day with him, Whitney knew she couldn’t be objective when comparing him to the other men at the party.
Her thin shoulder straps cut into her slightly sunburned skin, and Whitney’s thoughts drifted to a few hours earlier when she and Shadow had frolicked on the beach. He had splashed in the surf with her and had never suggested that they wander farther into the ocean. But when he had taken her in his arms and dropped sweet kisses on her mouth and eyelids, Whitney had felt the tugging current of Shadow’s passion and she was once again reminded of the riptide incident even though she was standing on dry sand.
Love was a little frightening, she thought, her eyes still fastened on Shadow as he took their drinks from the bartender. It was similar to being caught up in nature’s elements, especially when one was in love with a man like Shadow Tallwalker. You just have to keep your head above water and hope for the best, Whitney told herself with a shrug. When she had pressed him last night to tell her how deep his feelings ran for her, he had been reticent, and Whitney had decided to accept this for the time being. At least he was being honest with her, which was more than she could say for the way Jean-Claude had treated her.
“Here’s your vodka martini,” Shadow said, handing her a frosted glass.
“Thanks. What are you having?” Whitney asked, examining his drink.
“Scotch and ice cubes.”
She arched a brow. “You need a stiff drink already?”
He grinned crookedly. “This is my first Colony party and I have a feeling these people are waiting for me to arrest them for decadence.”
She frowned at his quip. “I’m one of these people, Shadow. Do you think I’m decadent?”
“No.” He slanted her a wary glance. “You don’t fit in with these people. You’re different.” When she didn’t answer, he turned the full force of his silvery eyes on her. “Aren’t you?”
Whitney shrugged and sipped her drink, deciding not to answer him. He was doing it again, she thought with a stab of irritation, Shadow was lumping everyone into a group instead of seeing them as individuals. But she didn’t want to argue the point. After all, this was a party, not a debate.
“If it isn’t the elusive Whitney Campbell.”
Whitney whirled toward the deep voice, thankful for the distraction. She smiled and offered her hand to the middle-aged man and turned her cheek to receive his quick kiss. “Hello, Jarrod. It’s nice to see you again. Jarrod Stallmaster, this is Shadow Tallwalker. Shadow, Jarrod is a—”
“Film producer,” Shadow finished for her as he shook Jarrod’s hand. “We’ve met before. It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Stallmaster.”
“Nice to see you, Detective Tallwalker.” Jarrod winked at Whitney. “I was the first Malibu Intruder victim, remember?”
Whitney nodded. “Yes, I do remember now.” She sipped her drink, recalling the morning she had read about Jarrod’s break-in in the newspaper. He fit the Intruder’s pattern, Whitney thought. Jarrod Stall-master’s parents had been noted actors.
“The last time I saw Detective Tallwalk
er he was asking a lot of questions and I was madder than hell,” Jarrod said, withdrawing his hand from Shadow’s and shoving it into his trouser pocket. “Have you arrested anyone yet?”
“No, not yet. You’re not still mad at me, are you?”
Jarrod chuckled and finished off his drink. “I wasn’t mad at you. I was ticked off that someone had broken into my home and destroyed my waterbed.”
“Oh, no!” Whitney covered her mouth with her hand in dismay. “He slashed your waterbed?”
Jarrod winced at the memory. “What a mess! When are you going to slam that nut behind bars, Tallwalker?”
“Soon, I hope.” Shadow started to turn away, but Jarrod placed a hand on his arm.
“Just what are the police doing besides nothing?” Jarrod demanded.
“Are you talking about the Malibu Intruder?” Ashley interrupted, wedging herself between Jarrod and Whitney.
“We are,” Jarrod assured her.
“Oh, good! That’s far more interesting than the sorry state of our sewage system here in the Colony.” Ashley rolled her green eyes and sighed wearily. “I swear, that’s all Stephanie and Michael Sizemore have on their feeble, little minds!” She tipped her head back, indicating the Sizemore couple in serious conversation with a few other party guests behind her.
“I was just asking the detective here what the police are doing on the Malibu Intruder case,” Jarrod repeated, his brown eyes staring at Shadow and his voice rising to snare the attention of those near him.
Timothy O’Hara, an elderly film actor, clamped a hand on Jarrod’s shoulder. “Hey, Stallmaster, what do you think about Bill Grecco adding that spa to his house? It blocks my view of the beach and—”
“Oh, hush up, Timothy!” Ashley hissed, her emerald eyes flashing. “Jarrod was just asking Detective Tallwalker about the Malibu Intruder case.”
“Oh?” Timothy’s blue eyes widened. “I was wondering about that. What is happening?”
Whitney squeezed the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger as the tension built within her. The small circle had grown to include more than a dozen people and all eyes were glued to Shadow. She longed to kick Ashley Summer for putting Shadow on the spot, especially when this party was supposed to take the Colony’s minds off the Malibu Intruder.