by Sandra Brown
“Kari? Sweetheart? Do you want me to?”
Her fingers grasped handfuls of his hair and she moaned incoherently. He pulled down the zipper of her shorts. Her bikini panties were a soft yellow. A butterfly, embroidered in silk thread, spread its wings over her mound.
Hunter lowered his parted lips to the butterfly and kissed it.
Kari cried out sharply as the world fell away and she was catapulted into a new realm. She was splintered with such arrows of pleasure that she sobbed. Small delicious spasms followed one after the other and continued to ripple through her long after the initial eruption.
“Oh, God,” she groaned as she rolled to her stomach and buried her head in her folded arms. Her body was still trembling in the aftermath of a tempest, but her mind had returned to reason.
For a long while, she lay there, perfectly still, willing away that glorious lassitude and delightful heaviness. She didn’t want to feel this good. She had made a fool of herself and didn’t know how she would ever face this man again.
He laid a reassuring hand on her back and patted it. Long minutes passed. He didn’t try to force conversation on her and for that she was grateful. At last he said, “I’ve got to go into the trees for a minute. I’ll be right back.”
She felt him rise and listened to his footsteps as he left her. She rolled over and spotted him disappearing into a thick copse. Despite what had happened moments ago, she smiled at his diplomacy. She could have stood a trip to the bathroom, too.
With fumbling fingers she restored her clothing and ran her hands through her tangled hair. She dabbed at her eyes with the back of her hand, knowing that her earlier tears had no doubt made a streaking mud of her eye makeup.
When she saw him coming from the cover of the trees, she busied herself picking up the refuse of their picnic and replacing it in the basket.
“We’d better start back down,” she said quickly before he could say anything. She stood up and dusted off her seat. “It gets dark early up here.” She retied the sleeves of her sweater around her waist and took two steps before Hunter grasped her wrist and turned her around to face him.
“We’re not going anywhere until we talk this out. Since we met each other, we’ve had one big misunderstanding after another. I’m not going to let this develop into one.”
She hadn’t yet found the courage to meet his eyes, so she spoke to the third button of his shirt, which had been neatly rebuttoned and tucked into his shorts. “I don’t know what happened. I—”
“You had an orgasm.” It was quietly, emphatically, bluntly spoken. Her eyes flew to his. His expression was the gentlest she’d ever seen. “I fail to see the problem, Kari. Why are you acting like this?”
“Because that’s never happened to me before.”
His lips tried hard to hide a quick smile but failed. “Then, I think congratulations are in order.”
“I mean, it has,” she said in exasperation, “just not like that. Not so …”
She foundered for a way to describe her total lack of self-control. Would he understand that feeling of slipping toward a precipice and not knowing how to slow down, or of trying to stop an avalanche? Or by trying to explain would she make even a greater fool of herself? Because when it came right down to it, no description fit. “It came on so fast, without even … you know. You must think—”
“Will you let me do my own thinking, please?” He drew her closer. “I think that you’re a passionate woman who, due to the sad circumstances of your life this past year, was starved for physical love.”
“That’s just it,” she cried. “I can’t stand being thought of as a sex-starved widow out for the first man who—”
“Listen to me.” He shook her lightly. At the hard tone of his voice, she once again braved his gaze. “I thought it was beautiful. And I’m damn glad I was the one to bring it about. If any other man had even come close, I probably would have wanted to kill him, breaking one of the laws I hold dear. You were wonderful.
“All right? You got that? What else do I have to say to wipe that guilt-ridden expression off your face and take that closed, cautious wariness out of your eyes?”
It was at that moment she knew she loved him.
He could have reacted to what had happened with smug satisfaction, lording it over her that he could control her emotions and her body. But he hadn’t. He had made her feel that it was her triumph, not his.
Her eyes glossed with tears, but she smiled as she said, “What else do you have to say? Say you’ll cook your special spaghetti for me tonight.”
The tight lines around his mouth relaxed and went from a frown to a lazy grin. “Come here.”
He drew her against him. With his hand cupping her head, he pressed her face into his neck and bent his head over hers. His other arm was like a band of steel across her back as he hugged her tight. They remained locked in that embrace for several minutes, rocking slightly.
When he released her, he kissed her briskly on the tip of her nose. “You’re right. It’s already getting dusky. Let’s go home.”
He arrived early. She was sitting curled on the couch watching Sally Jenkins’s entertainment segment on the news. She held the door for him as he came in carrying a grocery sack and two bottles of wine.
He searched for her mouth over the grocery sack and kissed her with a smacking noise. “Am I early or late?”
“Early. But thanks for interrupting. I was watching my number-one competitor gushing through her story.”
“That Sally person?” he asked, making his way into the kitchen and depositing his burdens on the counter-top.
“You know very well who I mean. Sally Jenkins. The new rage. The belle of Denver TV.”
He popped his head around the corner. “Do you smell something rancid in here? Jealousy perhaps?”
“I’ll admit I’m pea-green with it.” She snapped off the TV and joined him in the kitchen. He laughed and handed her a glass of wine.
“You’ve got no reason to be jealous of her. She can’t hold a candle to you. She’s all boobs.”
“I see you noticed.”
“Who could miss them?”
“Yeah,” Kari said. “One of the salesmen noticed them. Or at least that was the scoop when I left.” She leaned against the countertop. Her finger traced the rim of her wineglass. “What if they don’t give me my job back, Hunter?”
He saw the anxiety on her face, heard it in her voice. He straightened from his task of unloading pots and pans from the storage bin. Cradling her face between his hands, he said, “They will.” His mouth met hers softly. “But if they don’t, you’ll do something else. And you’ll be great at it.”
“Thanks. I needed that.” Then impulsively she set her wine on the counter and slid her arms around his waist. She laid her head on his chest. “I need you.” She whispered but he heard her.
He pushed her away to look down into her face. “For what?” His implication was hazardous to a normal pulse rate. Hers skyrocketed.
She was still mortified over what had happened that afternoon and didn’t want him to think she was that desperate. Cocking her head to one side she said, “To take care of my parking tickets. You can do me that little favor, can’t you? You’re the D.A.”
He laughed. Grabbing her in a bear hug that lifted her off the ground, he growled in her ear. “Yeah, I can do that. But such favors are expensive.” His hand shamelessly stroked her fanny. She had no doubt what price he intended to exact.
He put her to work on the salad while he set about mixing the ingredients of his spaghetti sauce. He worked with the concentration of a chemist. When the sauce was simmering, they carried their wine into the den and sat close together on the sofa. He lifted her bare feet into his lap.
“No shoes?”
“I think I rubbed a blister today.”
His eyes took in the loose silk slacks she was wearing. They were the color of vanilla ice cream. Her matching silk sweater was loose as well, having wide sleeves
and an oversize boat neck that was designed to slip beguilingly over one shoulder. “I like this outfit.” His index finger trailed down her bare shoulder.
“Hmm, I wonder why?”
“Wear it on television and it’ll boost your ratings.”
“Yeah?”
He scowled. “On second thought, don’t. I don’t want thousands of men ogling you.”
“Would you be jealous?”
“Damn right, I would.” Unrepentantly he smiled. “Have you talked to Pinkie lately?”
She shook her head and dropped her eyes to the ruby wine in her glass. “I wanted to call and taunt him about his love life, but …” She let her statement dwindle away.
“But you didn’t want him to taunt you about yours.”
She brought her head up swiftly. “How do you do that?”
“What?”
“How do you know what I’m thinking? It makes me crazy when you do that.”
“I’m sorry. But isn’t that what you were thinking? He would be sure to ask if I’d found you and you’d have to tell him something. What would it be, Kari? What would you tell him about us?”
“I don’t know.”
He shoved her feet off his lap, stood and stalked into the kitchen. She sat for a moment, her face wrinkled in a grimace of frustration, then she bounded after him. He was stirring the sauce on the range.
“I told you not to expect anything.”
His shoulders bunched angrily, but they relaxed a trifle before he turned around. “I don’t.”
For some reason she was suddenly spoiling for a fight. “Yes, you do. You expect me to sleep with you.”
“Wrong!” he shouted. He was at the end of his rope, too. He’d been holding himself in check, doing everything by the book, going slow. But, dammit, his body could only take so much. And it had been in a state of emergency since he’d come to Breckenridge and joined her in the restaurant. “Yes, that’s what I want. But I sure as hell don’t know what to expect.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Why? Because this has never been easy, or standard. Ever since I met you, you’ve thrown me one curve ball after another.”
“So, why are you here?”
“Beats the hell out of me.”
His anger only fired hers. “Supposing I did go to bed with you, then what?”
“I’d probably want to keep you there for a month.”
The wooden spoon was dripping red sauce onto the floor. He tossed it down on the range and advanced toward her. “I’ve never waltzed around any woman the way I have you. And you know what? I’m tired of it. I’ve had to carefully measure everything I said so you wouldn’t take it the wrong way.”
He gripped her shoulders and pulled her toward him. Their chests came together hard. “Well, I don’t give a damn how you take this. It’s how I feel.” He thrust his hips against hers for emphasis.
“I want you bad, Kari. I want you naked. As wild as you were in the grass this afternoon. Only the next time you experience that, I want to be buried deep inside you, feeling it happen around me, sharing it with you. There. Now is that crude enough and graphic enough for you? Have you got the picture? You have a real knack for choosing what you want to hear and closing your ears to everything else. I don’t think you can mistake my meaning this time.”
He released her so suddenly, she reeled. He had spotted a bottle of Scotch a few days ago in one of the cup-boards. He took it out now, poured a generous portion into an orange juice glass, and threw it down his throat in one gulp.
She had a spontaneous desire to giggle. Thomas had never been one to lose his temper. Hunter’s flare-up had been as strong a stimulant as one of his kisses. She wanted to spin him around, slap him as hard as she could, then kiss him with equal fervor.
“Hunter?”
“What?” he barked.
“Tell me when you’re ready for me to set the table.”
It took some effort on her part, but he came around. By the time they sat down to eat, his good humor had been restored. He joked as he opened the second bottle of wine and smiled when she praised his spaghetti. He was volatile but not moody. She liked that about him.
After the dinner dishes had been cleared away, they began working on the jigsaw puzzle again. This time Hunter sat back and let her muddle through it on her own. He watched her lips purse in concentration. He loved the way her hair fell over her face and the unthinking way she brushed it back.
They had moved the candles from the dining table to the card table after dinner. Now her bare shoulder glowed in the golden light they shed as she bent over the table. Her skin looked like warm satin and he wanted to take a bite out of that shoulder. He wanted to taste all of her.
The sweater she was wearing got his vote for the sexiest item in her wardrobe. She was wearing nothing underneath it. Every time she moved he could see the gentle sway of her breasts. She was sexy without trying to be. Her allure lay in her subtlety.
He thought about Marilyn and chuckled. How could he have ever thought to remedy his desire for Kari by taking another woman, any other woman, especially one as blatant as Marilyn? How stupid he’d been.
Kari looked up from the puzzle. “Did I miss something? What’s funny?”
He laughed again. “I was just remembering a night I’d rather forget.”
“Oh?”
“I had a lapse of common sense.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s all you’re going to get.” She shook her head as though she doubted his sanity and returned her attention to the puzzle.
She held the three remaining pieces in her hand. Now that she was about to finish it, she was almost afraid to. Then she would have to face the picture she saw. Not the picture of the brightly colored balloons on the table, but the picture of herself that it symbolized.
Hunter McKee.
He had started out her enemy. Now she knew she loved him.
She locked in a piece. Two remained.
He wasn’t all that easy to love. He was ambitious. He had a temper. But he also stood for justice, all-American wholesomeness, and old-fashioned values that she adhered to as well. He had been candid with her tonight. He wanted her in his bed. But she had already known that. In retrospect she realized she had known that for a long time. Maybe she had purposely goaded him so he would speak his feelings out loud.
But did he love her?
She thought he did. A man like him didn’t have to wait over a year for a woman. Yet he had. After all she’d done to him, said about him, said to him, he had still come after her. And did it matter so much if he didn’t love her? Thomas had professed his love frequently, yet he had deceived her. Did she need to hear the words, or were Hunter’s actions sufficient to express his love?
She mashed the next to last piece in its place.
It had been difficult to love a god. That was the way she had loved Thomas. She could admit that now. He had been her knight in shining armor, just as Pinkie had said. In her eyes he had been perfect.
But it was intimidating to live with perfection. Hadn’t she always been afraid that she would do something not to his liking? Had she ever felt truly free to express an opinion contrary to his? Hadn’t she always strived to win his approval and felt that she fell short of the mark?
Would she ever have had the kind of physical and emotional release in front of him that she had had with Hunter that afternoon? Never. Thomas might have had prostitutes, but he would never expect that kind of passion from his wife. Instinctively she knew that. They simply hadn’t had that kind of relationship.
Loving Hunter would involve no such constraint. She had loved Thomas, but now she loved again and it was different and wonderful. It was time to give her old love a special place in her memory but focus on the new.
She pressed the last piece into the puzzle and completed the picture.
Her fingers skimmed over it. She studied it for a long time, then she raised her eyes to the man who was silently wat
ching her from across the table.
“All the pieces fit.” Her voice was husky with emotion.
“Is it all right now for me to tell you that I love you? I have since the day you first walked into my office, Kari.”
“I think I started to love you soon after that. That’s why I was so angry with you.”
“I know.”
She looked at him in bewilderment. “You knew? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You weren’t ready to hear it. Now you are. You love me and I love you.”
Trancelike, but still knowing exactly what she was doing, she got out of her chair and went to him. He pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her.
Their mouths met in the sweetest, tenderest kiss, with just the tips of their tongues touching.
“Oh, sweet, so sweet,” he murmured against her mouth. The kiss intensified. His tongue stroked and darted. He took delight in her mouth and gave as much in return.
His hand was warm on her breast as he fondled it through the silk sweater. The tip hardened beneath the gentle plucking of his fingers. Whispering endearments, he straightened and put space between them. He slid his hands beneath her sweater.
“I’ve wanted to do this all night.” His hands coasted over her warm flesh.
“Don’t let me stop you,” she said raggedly as he cupped her breasts, lifted them, and teased the peaks with his fingertips and thumbs.
“Take off your sweater. I want to see my hands on you.”
While his hands stayed where they were, she raised the sweater over her head and pulled it off.
“God,” he sighed.
The sight of his large and tanned and hair-sprinkled hands against the smoothness of her flesh was purely erotic. She gasped softly when the pad of his finger finessed her nipple into a tight bud.
Then she saw his open lips close over it and felt the loving of his tongue. She watched his jaws flex as he sucked tenderly. His eyes were closed and his lashes left fan-shaped shadows on his high cheekbones. There were red glints in his hair. She ran her fingers through it as she held his head fast, hoping that the pleasure would never end.
It became almost unbearable. She ground her forehead against the top of his head and heard herself chanting words she had never thought she would say. Outrageous words. Sexual words. Words that made him leave her breast and recapture her mouth in a searing kiss.