She pushed back and stared at him in shock.
“You didn’t think of that?”
She shook her head.
“It doesn’t surprise me.” He stroked her hair back from her face. “I wondered why you didn’t blame me for what happened. You were too busy blaming yourself.”
“I still blame myself. Do you think remembering the music box is going to make everything all right?”
“No, not until you forgive yourself for being alive when Jill is dead.”
“When Maritz is dead, I’ll forgive myself.”
“Will you?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I hope so.”
“So do I.” He drew her back into his arms and rocked her back and forth. “So do I, Nell.”
She could smell his scent, feel the roughness of the terry-cloth robe against her cheek. No passion, not that heated awareness, just a golden peace. She stayed there for a long time, letting the peace enfold her, heal her.
Finally, she raised her head. “I should go back to my room and get to sleep. You’ll say I’m sluggish tomorrow.”
“Probably.” He drew her down on the couch and pushed her head back on his shoulder. “Worry about it then.”
She relaxed against him and let the peace flow into her, around her. Strange that Tanek, who wasn’t at all peaceful, could bring her this serenity. She would stay just a little longer and then go.…
She was nestled against him as trustingly as if he were her mother, Tanek thought in rueful disgust.
It wasn’t what he’d had in mind.
He’d wanted casual sex and emotional distance.
He’d gotten no sex and a greater intimacy than he’d ever experienced with a woman.
His own fault. He hadn’t been forced into the role of surrogate mother.
Except by Nell’s need.
His arm was cramped and painful, but he didn’t move it from around her. He looked down at her hand lying lax on his thigh. Tiny half-moon marks indented the palm where she’d dug her nails. He gently touched one red circle. Scars. These marks would fade, but the unseen ones would linger. They were as ugly as his own, and the wounds bonded them together.
She stirred against him and murmured something inaudible.
“Shh.” His arm tightened around her.
That’s what a mother should do, right? Give comfort and hold the nightmares away.
He sighed resignedly. This definitely wasn’t what he’d had in mind.
Thirteen
Nell sleepily opened her eyes when he put her down on her bed.
“It’s okay. Just tucking you in.” He pulled the cover over her. “Go back to sleep.”
She met his eyes, beautiful light eyes shimmering in the dimness of the room. “Good night.”
“Call if you need me.”
“I won’t need you. Thank you for—”
He was gone. No, not really gone. She still felt his presence … comforting, sensual. How strange that the two could exist side by side. At the moment, comfort was a bigger part of their relationship than sex, but she knew that would shift. The prospect no longer disturbed her, she realized. Something had changed that night.
How stupid she’d been to resist, she thought drowsily. The man who had held her while she slept was no threat. Sex was no threat. It could be controlled like anything else, and the release would be good for her. They would be thrown together for weeks to come, and there was no sense in making it difficult for both of them. She would go to him tomorrow night.
A tiny stir of anticipation rippled through her, and she quickly suppressed it. She must not dwell on it and make it more important than it was.
It was only sex.
“You haven’t found her yet?” Gardeaux asked softly. “What the hell have you been doing?”
Maritz’s hand tightened on the telephone receiver. “I have a lead. She and the doctor’s housekeeper were pretty chummy. The housekeeper might know where she is or if she might come back. I’ve been watching the doctor’s house.”
“Just watching?”
“I’ll get her.”
“Alive. We need her alive now. Things have changed. She may be the key.”
“I know. I know. You told me.”
“But did you listen?”
Bastard. Maritz gritted his teeth. “I said I’ll get her.”
“You seem to be having trouble with this little problem. Should I send someone else?”
“No,” he said quickly. “I have to go now. I’ll be in touch.”
He hung up the phone. Send someone else? he thought, outraged. Spoil the end of the hunt, when he’d devoted so much time and effort to it.
No way.
Tanek looked up from his book when Nell opened the door. “Yes?”
She stood in the doorway. The lamplight fell on his bare shoulders and the triangle of dark hair that thatched his chest. He was obviously naked beneath the sheet. She took a deep breath. “May I come in?”
He closed the book. “Do you need to talk?”
“No.” She moistened her lips. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I wondered if you … do you still …” She said in a rush, “I’d like to go to bed with you, if you don’t mind.”
He went still. “Oh, I don’t mind. May I ask why?”
“I thought—There’s too much tension between us. It will be better when—”
“Oh, it’s therapeutic?”
“Yes. No.” She drew a deep breath. “I want it,” she said baldly.
He smiled and held out his hand. “Hallelujah.”
She tore off her nightshirt, flew across the room, and dove beneath the covers and into his arms. “I don’t know what to do,” she said fiercely. “I hate this. I thought I’d never feel this uncertain again. Everything seemed so clear.”
“Everything is clear.” He stroked her hair. “What’s the problem?”
“What’s the problem? One, I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing. Two, I tried to tell myself that taking what I want is strength, but it might be weakness. And three, I’ve had two men and you’ve probably had two million women.”
He chuckled. “Not quite.”
“Well, you get the idea.”
“I get the idea.” He kissed her temple. “If you’re nervous, we’ll just lie here for a while and be together.”
She relaxed against him. She could hear the steady pounding of his heart beneath her ear. It was like last night and she suddenly felt safe. “Maybe just for a little while.”
“And if it will give you more confidence, I’ve never gone to bed with Helen of Troy.”
“What?”
“Didn’t Joel tell you he was aiming at giving you a face more memorable than Helen of Troy’s?”
“No.” She was silent a moment. “Is that why you’re willing to—”
“Willing is the wrong word. Eager. Frantic.”
“Stop trying to distract me. You want me because of this face that Joel gave me.”
“I want you because you’re Nell Calder and all that implies.”
“But you would never have gone to bed with the old Nell Calder. You wouldn’t have even noticed me.”
“I did notice you. I noticed the smile and your eyes and the—”
“But you wouldn’t have wanted to go to bed with me.”
He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. “What do you want me to say? Am I attracted to beauty? Yes, but it’s not all I look for in a woman. If you suddenly reverted to that woman on Medas, would I still want you? Yes, because I know you now. I know your potential, your stubbornness, your strength.…”
She grimaced. “Very sexy.”
“Strength is sexy. Intelligence is sexy. You always had those qualities beneath that meek exterior.” A rueful smile quirked the corner of his lips. “Now, will you stop making comparisons? I feel polygamous trying to seduce both of you.”
“Sorry, I only wondered. It just occurred to me
.” She buried her face in his chest again. “Sometimes I do feel like two people. Not often. That other woman is fading away.”
“No, she’s not. She’s just blending into the person you are now.” He touched her lower lip with his finger. “As I’m aching to do. Have you had enough time? I promise I’ll go slowly.”
She suddenly realized his heart was beating harder against her ear and his muscles were taut and tense against her. It had been hard for him to wait, but he had given her the space she needed, the words she needed.
She lifted her head and kissed him. She whispered, “You don’t have to go slowly.”
“Go get cleaned up,” Tania ordered Joel as soon as he came into the house. She perched a fuchsia party hat on his head and slipped the elastic band beneath his chin. He looked tired. Not a good sign. “Tonight we celebrate.”
“I look stupid in party hats.”
She stopped him from taking it off. “Nonsense. You look wonderful. The color is just right for you. It goes with your hair.”
“My hair is not fuchsia.” He glanced at her peach georgette dress. “That’s pretty. I like all those flowers. You look like a garden. What are we celebrating?”
“I got an A on my English exam. This is very good, when you think of what a horrid language English is.” She kissed him on the cheek and gave him a push toward the stairs. She put a green party hat on her own head. “I’m very smart, yes?”
He smiled. “Very smart.”
“I’ve made pot roast and potatoes and a new dessert with lemon sauce. Low fat for your heart. Healthy. Since you think yourself so old, I thought this would make you happy.”
“I never said I was old,” he said, stung. “You’re just … young.”
She shrugged and hurried to the dining room. “Hurry.” She checked the flower arrangement on the table, lit the candles, and headed for the kitchen. She set the platter with the pot roast on the table as Joel came into the dining room. He was still wearing the party hat, she saw with approval. “Sit. Eat.”
She kept the conversation light throughout dinner and coffee afterward in the living room. “I did well. Wonderful, yes?”
He smiled. “Wonderful.”
She had always loved his smile. From the first moment he had walked into her hospital room those many years ago. “I even gave you caffeine in your coffee. You know, of course, that I’m buttering you up.”
“I suspected it. You didn’t get an A on the test?”
“Oh, yes, but I knew I would. It was no triumph.”
“Then why am I wearing this extremely stupid party hat?”
She grinned. “Because it is good for you.” Her smile faded as she moved across the room and stared out the window. “And if you would be sensible, we would have reason to celebrate.”
He immediately stood up. “I’ve had a rough day. I’m not up to arguing with you, Tania.”
“You don’t argue. I could win an argument. You just say no.”
“And I’m saying it again. What made you think tonight would be different?”
She whirled on him. “Because you’re a fool,” she said shakily. “You behave like that stupid Galahad. Why can’t you be like other men and take and be happy?”
“Self-defense. I’d be miserable when you decided that I was—What’s wrong?” His gaze narrowed on her face. “You’re really upset.”
“Of course I’m upset. Do you expect me to keep on laughing about this? Every minute of life is so precious, and you’re letting it ebb away from us.” She folded her arms across her chest to stop them trembling. “How do you know—” She whirled away from him. “Oh, go away. You don’t understand anything. You’re a stupid, stupid man.”
“I’m doing what I think is best, Tania,” he said gently. “Life is precious, and I won’t have it spoiled for you.”
“Go away.” She stared blindly out the window, fighting back the tears.
“Tania …”
She didn’t answer, and a few moments later she heard him leave. She hadn’t thought she could persuade him. The night had been a complete blunder. She had picked a time when he was tired and probably feeling every one of his years. She should have stopped the moment she had seen his face when he had walked in the door.
She couldn’t stop. She’d had to try. Lately, she’d had the feeling that time was running out.…
She stared into the darkness. She was crazy. He couldn’t be out there. Surely she would have seen some sign of him during these weeks.
You bastard, why won’t you go away?
She was only talking to a delusion from her past. There was no one out there.
She looked cute in that silly party hat, Maritz thought. But her expression was the tense, wary one he’d come to know, the one he brought to her face.
Thank you for inviting me to the party, Tania.
Yes, I’m still with you.
She turned away from the window and he lowered the Russian-made binoculars.
Yes, it would definitely have to be in the house.
She felt so safe there.
Nell avoided Nicholas’s rush, kicked his legs out from under him, and pounced. She was astride him in an instant.
“I did it,” she panted, her face glowing with delight. “You’re down!”
“Stop crowing.” But Nicholas’s smile belied the injunction. “It took you long enough.”
“But I did it.” She scowled with mock ferocity. “I have you at my mercy.”
“Totally.”
“Stop patronizing me.”
“Never satisfied. I was merely giving you your due.”
“Admit it, you’re proud of me.”
“Enormously.”
She was so pumped with triumph, she felt giddy. “Penalty and reward. What do I get?”
His smile deepened indulgently. “What do you want?”
“The homestead. Sam. The world.”
“For one fall?”
“It was a great fall, a splendiferous fall.”
“True. But you can’t have the homestead or Sam. Anything else.”
“Okay.” She lifted his sweatshirt to bare his chest and ran her hands through the dark hair on his chest. “You. Here. Now.”
“My, how aggressive you’ve become.”
She delicately licked his nipple and saw the pulse in the hollow of his throat jump in response. “Now.”
He didn’t move. “It’s not good discipline to interrupt a session.”
“I want my reward. Fair is fair.”
“Well, if you put it that way.” He sat up, tore off his sweatshirt, and threw it aside. “What else can I do but yield meekly?”
She snorted. Nothing Nicholas did to her was done meekly. Sometimes it was smooth, sometimes rough, but it was always decisive and bold … and full of joy. She hadn’t expected that almost-pagan sensuality in him.
Or herself. It was as if the floodgates had opened and freed her to pleasure. With Richard she had always felt obligated to make sure he was pleased and felt guilty if she demanded anything of him. Sex with Nicholas was between equals, brimming with erotic experimentation.
“I’m glad you see that you’ve no choice in the matter.” She pulled the jersey over her head and took off her bra. She leaned forward and rubbed against him. A shudder went through her as the soft hair of his chest brushed her nipples.
“No choice at all. You have me at your mercy.” He suddenly bent his head and caught her breast in his mouth, sucking strongly.
She inhaled sharply, her hands blindly reaching out to tangle in his hair. But he had moved away to shed his clothes.
“Hurry,” he told her.
He didn’t have to. She was already tearing off her clothes, throwing them in all directions.
He was back on the mat, parting her thighs. He sank deep, deeper. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as he started moving, fast, hard.
Suddenly he rolled over, bringing her on top.
She looked down at him. “What is—”
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His eyes twinkled. “I thought you’d prefer a dominant position today.” He bucked upward and smiled as she caught her breath. “This way I’m totally at your disposal.”
He was holding her sealed to him so that she would feel every inch as his hips moved upward.
“That’s not the way it feels,” she gasped.
“How does it feel?”
“Like I have a club—” She gasped again as he lunged upward.
“Move.” He whispered, “Ride me. Make me feel you.”
She moved, hard, frantically, joyously.
When the climax came she collapsed on top of him in total exhaustion.
She was shaking, coated in perspiration, clinging helplessly to him. He was laughing, she realized dazedly. “What’s so funny?”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at this mat in the same way again. Every time I have you down, I’m going to want to tear the clothes off you.” He kissed her. “I told you it was bad discipline.” He pulled her to her feet. “Come on, let’s hit the shower.”
“I can’t move.” She leaned against him, her arms linked about his waist. He felt good. Lean and tough and wonderful. “Being rewarded takes all the stuffing out of me. I think I’m going to melt.”
“Can’t have that. Michaela would never consent to clean up the mess.” He lifted her and carried her from the gym to his bathroom before setting her down to adjust the water in the shower. He drew her beneath the warm spray, standing behind her, his hands gently rubbing her belly. Those wonderful hands … She never got tired of looking at them or feeling them on her body. She had discovered he was a very tactile person. Even when no sex was involved, he liked to touch her, caress her.
Standing here was wonderfully soothing, she thought dreamily. She felt cosseted, soothed, safe.
“I heard you last night,” he whispered in her ear. “The dream again?”
A tiny ripple disturbed the serenity she was experiencing. “Yes.”
“It hasn’t happened for a while.” He pulled at the lobe of her ear with his teeth. “I was hoping they were gone.”
She shook her head.
“I want you to move in with me tonight.”
Iris Johansen Page 24