Having fully recovered from her experience on the mountain, she concentrated on understanding the arguments. But lines blurred, images were confused. She’d lie awake at night and think.
An irresistible impulse. What was it she felt for Ben, and why did she struggle so to keep herself from running to him? The voice of reason against the voice of impulse. And just as she was hard put to decide her feelings about Derek Bradley’s guilt or innocence, she simply couldn’t reconcile her own torment.
That Ben was enduring similar anguish alone in his room at night was something she could only surmise. As the week progressed, he too grew more troubled. His temper was shorter, his tone harder. She could see new furrows on his brow, deeper grooves by his mouth. Smiles were few and far between.
Abby had the agonizing sense of time running out. Monday and Tuesday would see the prosecution’s rebuttal witnesses; then the judge would charge the jury. It was not unrealistic to guess that by Thursday the trial might be over.
And then what? Her eyes filled with tears each time she thought of it. Then what?
“Will Sean be coming on Sunday?”
She tore herself from the misery of her daydreams to face Ben with a start. “Excuse me?” She sat on the window seat in the living room. He’d come to stand over her.
“I asked if you’d invited Sean for Sunday.” The judge had decided that, given the length of the trial and its peculiar emotional pressure, there would be a two-hour visiting period at the inn on Sunday afternoon. Ground rules had been established. Only family or, in the case of unattached jurors, one close friend could come. All would meet in the living room, with an extra detail of court officers assuring that there was no discussion of the case itself.
Abby stared at Ben. “Sean? Oh…Sunday.” He looked so cold. She had to consider the future. “Yes…uh, yes. Sean will be coming.”
“That’s good,” he grumbled, then turned and walked away, leaving her unhappier than ever.
Yes, she would invite Sean, if only to protect herself from thoughts of Ben. And, of course, Alexandra would probably come.
* * *
It was an afternoon not to be forgotten. Dressed in a peasant skirt and blouse whose gathers and ruffles made her look all the more feminine, Abby went downstairs early to meet the families of those other jurors she’d come to know.
The atmosphere was as close to festive as anything in the past two and a half weeks had been. There were hearty embraces, smiles, and laughter, and everyone enjoyed a lavish cold buffet.
Conscientiously ignoring her own apprehension, Abby moved from one eager group to the next. Perhaps the air of merriment was a good omen, she mused. Then she stopped to look around for Ben. He hadn’t come yet. Another good omen? Perhaps he hadn’t invited Alexandra after all! Then why had she invited Sean? She wasn’t that anxious to see him….
Patsy, of course, had invited Bud. Her face beaming, she appeared at the door of the living room hand in hand with her handsome ski bum. Abby caught her breath and straightened, unable to take her eyes from him. Indeed he was as good-looking as Patsy had claimed. He also looked terribly, terribly familiar….
Slowly understanding dawned. By the time Patsy and Bud reached her, Abby wore a smile of grudging admiration. “I don’t believe it,” she whispered, shaking her head in amazement that they’d pulled it off as smoothly as they had.
Patsy winked. “Abby, I’d like you to meet Bud. Bud, this is the friend I’ve told you about.”
Bud extended his hand and grinned broadly. “How do, Abby?” Then he cocked his head and feigned puzzlement. “Say, haven’t we met somewhere before?”
“Your guy’s got all the right lines, Patsy,” Abby said, laughing. “But is it Bud…or Peter?” It had taken her a minute to recognize him without his hiking gear. And, of course, those nights at the hunting lodge, then the movie theater…she hadn’t been able to see his face at all.
“Peter, Jr., known all my life as Bud.” The explanation was simple.
“Mountaineer, usher, waiter…you’re a versatile guy.”
“I think so.” Patsy beamed as she linked her arm through her Bud’s, and the two went in search of a corner in which to talk.
Abby was unaware of their departure, though, for Sean chose that moment to appear at the door. By his side was a stunningly attractive blonde. Ben’s appearance moments later confirmed her identity. The afternoon went steadily downhill from there.
Abby hugged Sean, or was it the other way around? Ben hugged Alexandra, or was it the other way around? Introductions were made…and there they stood. All four of them. Chatting about the inn, the weather, the foliage, the World Series. Ben made no move to leave Abby with Sean; Abby had no intention of leaving Ben with Alexandra. As a foursome, they helped themselves to the spread put out by the Abbotts. As a foursome, they stood munching on the goodies. As a foursome, they greeted others who stopped for introductions.
Abby had little idea what she said, even less what was said by the others. She only knew that her face grew stiff from the smile she’d pasted there…and that Ben seemed to be enjoying himself tremendously. He and Alexandra did make a handsome couple, she had to admit, and Alexandra hadn’t left Ben’s side for a minute.
It was confusing and annoying, tiring and frustrating. She’d never felt as relieved as she did when the court officers quietly passed the word that it was time for the guests to leave. Sean lightly brushed Abby’s cheek with a kiss; Ben did the same to Alexandra. Sean and Ben shook hands; Alexandra and Abby exchanged polite farewells. Finally, as they’d arrived by chance, so Sean and Alexandra left together.
Only then did Abby turn to glare at Ben.
Eight
Ben glared right back. “What’s the matter, Abby? Where’s the smile now?”
“I was just wondering the same about you! For someone who made a point of claiming that your relationship was innocent, you certainly went out of your way to charm Alexandra.” Her pulse raced on a surge of jealousy.
“Alexandra was glad to see me. A man needs that kind of encouragement every once in a while,” he barked pointedly. Abby was too busy wallowing in her hurt to hear him.
“And you loved it! You and Sean. I didn’t miss the way he looked at Alexandra.”
The muscles in Ben’s jaw began to work. “Who are you kidding? He didn’t take his eyes off you! It’s obvious where his mind was—”
The room seemed suddenly quiet. Though the others looked away diplomatically, they were obviously aware of the argument. Cursing under his breath, Ben grabbed Abby’s hand.
“Let’s get out of here,” he gritted through clenched teeth and had her out of the living room before she could react.
When she did it was in anger. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”
They reached the stairs and he started up. “Something that’s long overdue,” he growled.
“Ben, you’re hurting me!” She tried to wrest her hand from his, but his fingers only tightened. When his pace increased, she had to run to keep up. “Ben!”
“It’s about time we had this out. Your little game has gone far enough!”
“My game? What are you talking about?” They’d reached the second floor. Ben didn’t stop.
“That teasing game you play, Abby. You’ve put me through hell for the past two weeks…and I’ve got a fair idea that you’ve done the same to your Sean for far longer than that!”
“What teasing game? Ben…!”
Her protest fell on deaf ears. At the third floor, she was propelled down the hall past her own room to his. He pulled her in behind him, then slammed the door and bolted it. Then he turned, leaned back against it, and slowly, slowly raked the full length of her body with his eyes. She knew what was on his mind.
“Ben….” Slightly breathless from the upstairs dash, she pulled herself up straighter. “Let me go.”
“No way, Abby. It’s that moment of truth.”
Her hair gently swirled about her shoulders when she
shook her head. “No. You’re upset. You don’t know what you’re doing.”
He loosened his tie with an indolent hand and slowly pulled it off. “I know precisely what I’m doing…and it’s about time.” The tie fell to the carpet. He took a step forward and shrugged out of his blazer. That was easily tossed onto a nearby chair. Abby took a step backward.
“Please, Ben…let’s talk….”
“No! We’ve been that route before, and it leaves me more frustrated than ever.” He began to work on the buttons of his shirt. Abby’s mouth went dry.
“Frustrated?” she whispered hoarsely. “Is that what this is about? Your frustration?”
“Why not? It seems I’m the only one to suffer from the problem. Not you. You’re content with near misses. Well, Sean may not have been man enough to force your hand, but I am.” He tugged his shirttails from his slacks. Soon the shirt hung completely open.
Abby swallowed hard. His chest was so broad, so beckoning. She’d only seen it from a distance, that day at the lodge. Now it was no more than an arm’s length from her, lightly bronzed and with a tawny tee of hair that tapered alluringly into his slacks. She dug her nails into her palms.
“You’re wrong,” she gasped. “You were the one who walked out on me that night when I begged….”
He slid the shirt from his shoulders, and it joined his blazer on the chair. “That was an aberration. It won’t happen this time. I’ve had enough of looking at you, being near you, wanting you…and not having you. That’s done.” His hands went to his belt. He unbuckled it, then paused. Eyes wide, Abby stared, before forcing her gaze up to meet his. His eyes shone a rich silver hue, with a darker ring around their vibrant centers.
“What’s the matter, Abby?” he taunted, a hard smile tilting his mouth. “No arguments? No pleas this time?”
She wanted him. Oh, how she wanted him. But not this way. Acting on reflex, she bolted for the door. Ben had only to reach out and snag her waist to stop her. He hauled her back against his body. “Oh, no, you don’t. You could get away from Sean by being chosen for this jury. But you can’t get away from me as easily.”
“Ben…please…” She found her hands flattened on his chest and ached to explore his warm flesh. Her knees quivered, her insides fluttered. His nearness was everything she wanted…almost.
“Please what, babe?” he asked with the first hint of the tenderness she loved. Loved. Yes, loved. Without a doubt.
“Please…not in anger…” she whispered, feeling her body come alive under his hands as they skimmed the length of her spine. “Anything but that….” Her fingers curled into the soft matting of hair on his chest.
Feeling the response of her body, Ben knew she wouldn’t fight him. When he lowered his head and kissed her, her lips opened to him freely. She offered him the intimacy of her mouth, the liquid fire of her tongue, the sweet caress of her lips, destroying the last of his anger with the innocence of her giving. When at last he tore his lips from hers and drew back to look at her, there was that sadness she’d seen in him before.
“I can’t promise you anything—”
“I know.”
“And you’ll stay with me?”
Forever…if only he’d have her. “Yes.”
A vestige of wariness held his gaze steady. His voice was low and thick. “Then tell me what you want, Abby. Tell me now.”
She should have reached the decision days ago, should have realized then that she loved him. Should have accepted it…even if he could not. It really didn’t matter, did it? If she had these memories to hold with her…
Her fingers trembled when she lifted them to caress the muscular swell of his shoulders. “Make love to me, Ben,” she whispered. “I want…you….” Leaning forward, she pressed her lips to his chest. She closed her eyes and savored his taste, running her mouth slowly across the matted surface that labored now with his breathing. Her hands moved likewise in exploration, eager to feel every inch of his hard, lean body.
With a low groan, he lifted her face and kissed her again, this time with a hunger that was fully shared. She ran her hands along the firm flesh of his back and found satisfaction in the flex of his muscles at her touch. But it wasn’t enough. When his own hands began a restless wandering, she knew there was no going back.
His lips held hers in a mind-drugging kiss while she inched her way between their bodies and went to work on the buttons of her blouse. The backs of her hands brushed his torso; he sucked his breath in sharply. Then his fingers joined hers impatiently. Soon her blouse lay atop his shirt.
“Ahhh…babe,” he moaned, pulling her against him. His arms pressed her closer, hands flattening on the base of her spine to remind her of their destination. She needed no such reminder. Her own body was afire, with the greatest heat centered opposite his.
Suddenly there was no time to waste. Ben unhooked her bra and peeled it off, then focused on the fastenings of her skirt while she picked up where he’d left off on his pants. If hands and legs collided with arms and bodies in the rush, neither Abby nor Ben cared. The only thing of importance was to be with each other…with nothing at all between them.
Then Ben’s body was as bare as hers, and he swept her into his arms. Burying her face against his throat, she wrapped her arms tight around his neck while he carried her to the bed. He came down on top of her, reached back for her hands and pinned them to the quilt.
When he looked down at her then, despite everything he’d said, his eyes were luminous and loving. In them, she saw everything she wanted. It was the moment. Now. What she felt, this exquisite joy shooting through her body, was pure impulse, unsullied by that other world of justification and explanation. She no longer cared whether what she did was wise or right or practical. She only knew that she had to do it.
He inched his body intimately upward. When she arched in response, he smiled, then moaned. “Abby…Abby…I’ve waited so long….”
The breadth of his shoulders dwarfed her own. His hips pressed hers to the bed. “I know,” she whispered, driven wild by the sensation of his naked flesh on hers. “Hold me, Ben. Please hold me tight.”
Releasing her hands, he slid his arms around her and lifted her from the bed. When he sat back on his haunches, her legs curved naturally around his hips and he slowly drew her down on him.
A long, gasping sigh slipped through her lips. She’d never felt anything as beautiful as that warm, hard life inside her now.
Ben’s arms tightened convulsively. “That’s it, babe. That’s what I’ve been needing all these nights.”
“Oh, Ben,” she cried softly, “it feels so good.”
A low groan of satisfaction, a deep animal sound, came from the back of his throat instants before he caught her lips in a kiss filled with all the promise he hadn’t spoken. Then he slowly began to move her hips, and she cried out again at the intense joy she felt. The strength of it frightened her, as it had before. But now she surrendered herself to it.
Her breath came in short, jagged wisps as the fire raged hotter. His hands touched nothing but her hips; her arms wound tightly around his neck. With each thrust her body stroked his. Her breasts rubbed against him, growing swollen at the contact, their darkened peaks hard and full. Her belly slid warmly against his, her thighs moved over his in a rhythmic motion. And the pace quickened.
Then suddenly Ben could take no more. Backing her down to the bed, he thrust deeper, then again, sending her higher in turn until she cried his name once more, this time in disbelief as she neared the apex of unknown ecstasies. Her body was on the verge of bursting, her mind of disintegrating into a white-hot world of pleasure.
“It’s all right, babe,” he panted hoarsely. “Let it happen.”
It happened with such force that Abby caught her breath on a ragged gasp. There was suspension, an explosion, then quake after quake of shuddering rapture. In the blinding glory, she never knew which spasms were her own and which Ben’s. Her body throbbed endlessly. She struggled for breat
h. All she could think to do was to cling mindlessly to the man who’d brought her to this state.
Finally, inevitably, consciousness returned. Ben’s body lay heavy on hers, his head fallen to her shoulder. Gradually his breathing and pulse rate returned to normal.
Abby lifted her hand to stroke the dampened skin of his back. Then, combing her fingers gently through his hair, she held him close. She’d never felt as fulfilled in her life as she did at that moment. Only two things could have possibly made her happier—being able to confess her love for him…and hearing him return the vow.
She eased her grip when he turned his head on the pillow. His forehead touched her temple, and she let her head fall closer. She felt his gaze, then met it.
An Irresistible Impulse Page 16