by Penny Jordan
She loved him. She knew it with a conviction that was soul-deep, just as she knew that to allow her love to live was the utmost folly. It was something that should have been destroyed at birth, but now it was too late for that.
Trying to shake off her sombre thoughts, she went inside and made for her bathroom, tugging off the wet jeans and dropping them on to the floor as she ran a hot bath.
The hot water and the hard work which should have soothed her restless nerves and made her feel tired had no such effect. A restless, exhausting energy seemed to possess her, tensing the muscles she was trying to relax. When the doorbell rang she literally jumped, displacing a fair quantity of water on to the floor.
She had no idea who might be visiting her at this time of night, and reached hurriedly for a towel, wrapping it sarong-wise round her body as she ran downstairs.
The bell was still ringing, demanding and imperative, making her fumble with the lock and then fall back in consternation as the door swung open and she saw Dominic standing on the step.
Her shock and distress must have been mirrored on her face, because his own expression changed, his face white and strained in the harsh light from the hall.
Instinctly Kate fell back, groping for the door, shaking as she tried to close it against him.
His foot made it bounce open again, his fingers curling round her wrist, cool against the moist heat of her skin.
‘Kate… no, please… I have to talk to you.’ His voice was low and urgent, and Kate wasn’t sure if it was she or he who trembled, only that she could feel the ripples of tension running from where he touched her skin, making her shiver in a fine blending of apprehension and delight. For one crazy moment she actually wanted him to take all responsibility for any decision from her; to force open the door, so that she would be compelled to do whatever it was he wished without actually having to verbally agree to it. Such a thought was so at odds with her normal pattern of behaviour that it numbed her, the sheer force of the feeling he generated inside her leaving her both awed and alarmed.
He saw the fear darkening her eyes and misunderstood the reason for it, saying huskily, ‘Kate, don’t… I’m not going to hurt you.’
Incredibly she wanted to laugh. She could feel the beginnings of it welling deep down in her throat and knew that if she did not keep the muscles rigid, it would well out of her in peal after wild peal. Didn’t he realise how much he had already hurt her? That physical violence from him was the very last thing she feared?
‘Let me come inside. I… I need to talk to you.’
‘Why? To apologise for this afternoon?’ She forced herself to sound lightly mocking, avoiding looking directly at him, but even so she was aware of the tension investing his movements, but to her amazement he did not rise to the bait as she had expected, but simply said evenly, ‘Yes, for that… and other things.’
He shocked her so much that she automatically fell back, allowing him to follow her inside.
He was wearing the same jeans and shirt he had had on at lunch, and her senses minutely detailed the texture of his skin where his short-sleeved open-necked shirt revealed it for her inspection. Black hairs darkened his arms and curled just below the base of his throat. She had a mad urge to reach out and touch them, to see if they felt as vibrantly springy as they looked. The scent of his body was all around her, a combination of heat, cologne and musk. It confused and enthralled her, her heightened senses propelling her into a world where the powers of rational thought were drastically reduced.
She sensed a dramatic change in his reaction to her; the bitter resentment that had come across so strongly to her before was gone and in its place was a blend of humility and shame.
‘I mean it, Kate. Sue’s told me everything…about Ricky…about your marriage. God, Kate…!’
It was the cry of a tormented soul, and her emotions curled away from it in the same way that her sense of hearing cringed back from the sound of chalk squealing across a blackboard; a refined form of torture which owed nothing to actual physical pain, but which was highly traumatic nonetheless.
As though she was set apart from what was going on she noted that Dominic didn’t ask why she had not told him the truth, her control shattered by a welling sadness because they both knew that he would not have believed her; that he would not have wanted to believe her, just as she would have preferred him never to have learned it. It was safer that way—for both of them. Their mutual hostility had been a form of security, protecting them from… From what? From love? Kate shuddered then, acknowledging the full force of her feelings for him, and saw as he reached out to touch her that he had misinterpreted her fear as revulsion.
His whole face darkened as a tide of colour swept up under his skin, his eyes naked and vulnerable as they met hers. It was more than she could bear; that she had to carry the burden of his feelings as well as her own, and she pulled away from him with a despairing moan so that his fingers missed her arm and instead grasped the loose edge of her towel.
So it was that fate ordained that which must happen and that which must not, she saw, as she felt the towel slip away from her body and saw Dominic’s face contort in a mixture of longing, anguish and pain. A human being could only fight so much…or manoeuvre so much.
She didn’t move…didn’t try to run as he scooped her up in his arms, his muscles contracting with effort, his breathing shallow and tense against her skin.
He carried her to the guest bedroom as she had known he would, laying her down on the bed as though she was a fragile and delicate as the petal of a flower, touching her skin with fingers that trembled convulsively, a blind, despairing look in the eyes that absorbed every detail of her naked body.
In silence he undressed and in silence Kate waited. An odd calm possessed her, a feeling that what was happening was something that was meant to be. She had tried to prevent it; she had tried to protect herself, but at every turn fate had conspired against her, and now there was no point in fighting any further.
Her calm was not one of numb acceptance, but the desire running so strongly within her was not something she yet felt able to express. It was almost as though some inner voice was urging her to wait…to channel and control her need. And the moment Dominic lay down beside her and took her in his arms, she knew why.
Sensation after sensation exploded inside her, each one newer and more forceful than the last, and yet she was still able to monitor and register Dominic’s need and desire for her.
They made love avidly, feverishly, desperately hungry for one another, with no desire or need for any leisurely preliminaries. They might almost have been lovers of several years’ standing, parted and now reunited, so readily did their bodies merge together.
Neither of them spoke; their desire too savage and consuming for words, the thick silence punctuated only by the sounds of their bodies moving urgently together, taking what they had both, in their separate ways, deliberately denied themselves in the past.
Kate felt no gradual build-up to the climax she had read so much about, but never before actually experienced, her body simply exploded in a frenzied burst of sensation that took Dominic’s with it. He cried out, the first sound he had made since entering the room, and then as the tumult eased from their bodies and he lay down beside her, taking her into his arms, Kate thought she felt the dampness of his tears against her skin.
Drowsily as sleep claimed her it came to her that her body was at peace, but that for her heart, the pain was only just about to begin.
CHAPTER SEVEN
SHE woke from a deep sleep during the filtering grey light of the false dawn, to find Dominic watching her, his head supported by his hand, his features indistinct in the poor light, but the tension in his body openly apparent.
‘What is it…? What’s wrong?’
Alarm and apprehension contracted her muscles, memories of the past and his contempt of her overwhelming the delicious languor with which she had woken.
Dominic reached out to
touch her, his fingertips tracing the outline of her face, following the curve of her mouth, before suddenly he moved away.
She heard the bedclothes rustle and thought that he was leaving her until he said slowly, ‘Nothing…nothing at all. You’re even more than I’d imagined, Kate,’ he added softly. ‘For eight years I’ve carried with me an image of you…of how you looked in my bed…and for most of those eight years I’ve hated you and myself because I wanted you.’ He reached out again and slid his fingers through her hair, tilting her face so that he could look into her eyes.
‘I’ve been so wrong about you,’ he told her rawly, ‘Can you forgive me?’
It wasn’t a declaration of love or adoration, but it held a ring of genuine remorse that made her ache both for him and for herself.
‘I should have realised…seen…’ he went on.
‘How could you have done? I was Ricky’s wife.’
‘But you’re not any more—thank God,’ he interrupted her roughly, his voice taking on a yearning quality as he added thickly, ‘Kate, I want you so much.’
Instinctively, blindly, she raised her face to his, his fingers sliding down to grip the delicate bones of her shoulders, tension hardening his body as he muttered against her ear, ‘I hope you mean this, Kate, because I’m afraid if you don’t, it’s too late for turning back now. Eight years I’ve ached for you…dreamed about you, cursed the day I ever met you. You’ve become almost an obsession to me, Kate, and now…’
‘And now what?’ she asked lightly, suddenly almost afraid of the tension surrounding them both; afraid of placing too much meaning in what he was saying to her.
‘And now I’m almost afraid to touch you,’ he admitted huskily.
Her apprehension dropped away. Slowly she reached up and touched his mouth with her fingers, drawn to do so by a compulsion that had stalked her for days.
‘Don’t be,’ she whispered as she felt the firm flesh burn beneath her touch, and shivered herself in response.
‘Kate!’ He said her name on a hoarse note of need, obliterated as he pressed his mouth to the palm of her hand, his tongue slightly rough and totally erotic as it moved against her skin.
From her palm his lips moved up along her arm, sensitising her skin until she felt as though it burned with a million tiny electric impulses.
It seemed to be a lifetime before he reached her mouth to take her feverishly eager response to him. Her arms wound fiercely round his neck, her fingers shaping the hard bones of his skull beneath the silky thickness of his hair.
When his hand cupped her breast she moaned through his kiss, the sound trapped deep in her throat but obviously recognised by him, and his kiss hardened into dark passion in response to the eager stiffening of her nipple beneath his touch.
When his mouth left hers to move down the slimness of her throat she dragged in lungfuls of air, shuddering violently when she felt it against the hardened peak of her breast.
Her body arched against his mouth in longing and in pleasure, her fingers digging into the bunched muscles of his shoulders.
Against her she could feel his arousal, his desire feeding on and fuelling her own, the heat she could feel moving slowly through her veins echoed by the way his skin burned under her touch.
His mouth found her other breast, tugging gently on her swollen nipple until she felt almost faint with the frenzy of feeling he was arousing inside her.
Her desire was as great as it had been last night, but this time he was not rushing their lovemaking, but drawing out the pleasure of it until it stretched like an almost too fine note of music that ravished almost to the point of pain.
Beneath her hands his skin felt like warm satin, fluid and yet firm. She touched his chest tentatively, stopping suddenly as the past caught up with her and she heard Ricky’s voice, sharp with dislike as he pushed her away from his body, contemptuous of her hesitantly naïve caresses.
‘Kate…’
Her eyes focused anxiously on Dominic’s, trying to hold their steady regard. ‘What is it?’
Her mind jumped, veering sharply away from telling him. She wanted to know the full intimacy of his body, to caress him with her hands and lips, but the past would not release its hold on her. She felt Dominic’s glance drop to where her fingers lay curled mutely against his chest, and felt him sigh and knew he was aware of her reluctance to touch him. But he did not know the reason why. She was frightened…haunted by the lingering poison left by Ricky’s cruelty; and haunted too by the fact that once this man also had rejected her. It was all right as long as he was the one doing the caressing…making the running, but though there was desire between them, there was no trust, she thought sadly.
‘Kate.’
His eyes burned dark gold in the immobility of his face, his chest rising and falling sharply, his skin flushed and hot. His hand cupped her face, his mouth moving gently against her own, and then far less gently as he felt her eager response. This was something she felt safe with.
His mouth left hers and she watched the dark tide of colour film his cheekbones; felt the hard compression of his muscles as he bent towards her, his chest pressed hard against her breasts.
She could feel the faint edge of violence, just beneath the surface of his passion, and oddly it thrilled her, shocking her into an awareness of just how little she had known about passion—until now. Now she was learning fast…too fast, an inner voice warned her, but Dominic’s mouth was against her skin, his fingers stroking delicately between her thighs, making her forget everything but the surge of need pounding through her. Her body arched ecstatically against his hand, her strangled sob of pleasure smothered against his skin as she pressed shaking lips to his throat, wantonly responsive in her need to attain the shimmering delight that beckoned her on.
This time he made love to her slowly, teasing her a little with the tormenting, measured thrust of his body into her own, until she cried out in agonised despair, digging her nails into his back and whimpering with a need that made him abandon his role as a controlled lover, to possess her with a fiercely elemental hunger that matched and then exceeded her own. Quivering in the aftermath of the violently climatic convulsions that had gripped her, she could hardly believe it when he continued to move within her, drawing from her an explosion of sensation so intense that for a moment it seemed she actually lost consciousness, his voice as he reached his own release reaching her as though from a far distance.
Even when he had withdrawn from her, her body continued to tremble, slick with sweat which was now rapidly cooling her skin. She felt him move and gather her into his arms, too weak to do anything other than simply lie against him.
Against her ear she felt his lips move, his voice a deep rumble she could almost feel inside her as he muttered softly, ‘Forgive me, Kate, I’ve exhausted you. I hadn’t intended to be so…demanding, but eight years is a long time to go hungry for a woman…’
A woman? she thought drowsily, trying to unravel the error she felt sure was within the words. Dominic couldn’t have meant that there had been no woman with whom he had made love in that time… No, of course he could not, and she was a fool for even thinking he might. He had been speaking metaphorically, that was all. Her body ached, but it was a pleasant ache, reminding her that this was the first time she had ever tasted passion. She wasn’t sure, but as she drifted off to sleep she thought she felt Dominic’s mouth gently caressing her moist skin, trailing a tender path from her throat to the slight swell of her belly, before his arms curved round her again and she finally relaxed into exhaustion.
When she woke up again it was daylight and Dominic was gone. She stretched in languorous pleasure, blinking slowly like a large cat before rolling over to lie in the spot which had held Dominic’s body.
She could smell the scent of him on her skin, and shivered slightly, uncomfortably conscious of how little it seemed to take to arouse her body to the pitch where she was achingly conscious of how they had made love. Her breasts ached slightly
, her nipples tight and faintly swollen. If Dominic were here beside her now she would want him to make love to her. Swiftly banishing the thought, she pushed back the covers and headed for her bathroom, standing under the cooling lash of the shower while she tried to get a grip on her tumultuous emotions.
Not only did the cool water quench her desire, it also brought her shiveringly back to reality. What had happened last night had been so totally unexpected that it had completely pushed reality aside—for both of them perhaps, but this morning Dominic was gone, which surely indicated very clearly that he considered what had passed between them to be something he certainly did not wish to discuss and perhaps even regretted.
Surely if he had had any genuine feelings for her at all he would have wanted to be with her when she woke up, but he had gone…without a word to her.
Slowly drying herself, Kate went back to her bedroom and made herself go over the events of the previous evening. Dominic had been in something almost approaching a state of shock when he arrived. And no doubt it had been a shock to him to learn how wrong he had been about her. That he had learned it gave her no thrill of pleasure—on the contrary, all she could feel was an aching pain that it had taken remorse and guilt to bring him to her. Against her will she remembered how intensely he had wanted her, how fiercely he had made love to her. But desire, no matter how fierce, was not love. Dominic did not love her. How could he? He himself had told her how much he resented his desire for her, and now added to that resentment would be the guilt of knowing how wrongly he had misjudged her.
All the time she was dressing, her actions those of an automaton, Kate was going over and over what had happened, and her body shook as she remembered his passionate desire for her and her own response to it. She had been so carried away by their mutual need that nothing else had been important, but that could not be allowed to happen again.