by Diana Palmer
She moved uncomfortably. “Everyone talked about you and Jane, not just me.”
“I know. Small communities have their good points and their bad points.” His finger had reached her mouth. He was exploring it blatantly.
“Could you…not do that, please?” she asked unsteadily.
“Why? You like it. So do I.” He moved closer, easing one long, hard-muscled leg over hers to stay her as he shifted so that she lay on her back, looking up at him in the dim light.
“I can feel your heart beating right through your rib cage,” he remarked with his mouth poised just above hers. “I can hear your breath fluttering.” His hand slid blatantly right down over her breast, pausing there to tease its tip into a hard rise. “Feel that?” he murmured, bending. “Your body likes me.”
She opened her mouth, but no words escaped the sudden hard, warm pressure of his lips. She stiffened, but only for a few seconds. It was Christmas Eve and she loved him. There was no defense; none at all.
He seemed to know that, because he wasn’t insistent or demanding. He lay, just kissing her, his lips tender as they moved against hers, his hand still gently caressing her body.
“We both know,” he whispered, “why your body makes every response it does to the stimuli of my touch. But what no one really understands is why we both enjoy it so much.”
“Cause…and effect?” she suggested, gasping when his hand found its way under the sweatshirt and the lacy bra she was wearing to her soft flesh.
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. Reach behind you and unfasten this,” he added gently, tugging on the elastic band.
She did as he asked, feeling brazen.
“That’s better.” He traced over her slowly, his eyes on her face while he explored every inch of her above the waist. “Can you give this up?” he asked seriously.
“Wh…what?”
“Can you give it up?” he replied. “You aren’t responsive to other men, or you wouldn’t still be in your present pristine state. You allow me liberties that I’m certain you’ve never permitted any other man.” He cupped her blatantly and caressed her. She arched, shivering. “You see?” he asked quietly. “You love my touch. I can give you something that you’ve apparently never experienced. Do you think you can find it with someone else, Lou?”
She felt his mouth cover hers. She didn’t have enough breath to answer him, although the answer was certainly in the negative. She couldn’t bear the thought of letting someone else be this intimate with her. She looped her arms around his neck and only sighed jerkily when he moved, easing his length against her, his legs between both of hers, so that when his hips pressed down again, she could feel every hardening line of his body.
“Jebediah,” she moaned, and she wasn’t certain if she was protesting or pleading.
His mouth found her closed eyelids and tasted the helpless tears of pleasure that rained from them. His hips shifted and she jerked at the surge of pleasure.
He felt it, too, like a throbbing ache. “We’re good together,” he whispered. “Even like this. Can you imagine how it would feel to lie naked under me like this?”
She cried out, burying her face in his neck.
His lips traced her eyelashes, his tongue tasted them. But his body lay very still over hers, not moving, not insisting. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she felt her control slipping away.
But he still had his own control. He soothed her, every soft kiss undemanding and tender. But he didn’t move away.
“A year,” he whispered. “And we knew nothing about each other, nothing at all.” He nibbled her lips, smiling when they trembled. “Trains and old movies, opera and cooking and horseback riding. We have more in common than I ever dreamed.”
She had to force her body to lie still. She wanted to wrap her legs tight around him and kiss him until she stopped aching.
He seemed to know it, because his hips moved in a sensual caress that made her hands clench at his shoulders. “No fear of the unknown?” he whispered wickedly. “No virginal terror?”
“I’m a doctor.” She choked out the words.
“So am I.”
“I mean, I know…what to expect.”
He chuckled. “No, you don’t. You only know the mechanics of it. You don’t know that you’re going to crave almost more than I can give you, or that at the last minute you’re going to sob like a hurt child.”
She was too far gone to be embarrassed. “I don’t have anything,” she said miserably.
“Anything…?” He probed gently.
“To use.”
“Oh. That.” He chuckled and kissed her again, so tenderly that she felt cherished. “You won’t need it tonight. I don’t think babies should be born out of wedlock. Do you?”
She wasn’t thinking. “Well, no. What does that have to do…with this?”
“Lou!”
She felt her cheeks burn. “Oh! You mean…!”
He laughed outrageously. “You’ve really gone off the deep end, haven’t you?” he teased. “When people make love, the woman might get pregnant,” he explained in a whisper. “Didn’t you listen to the biology lectures?”
She hit him. “Of course I did! I wasn’t thinking… Jeb!”
He was closer than he’d ever been and she was shivering, lost, helpless as she felt him in a burning, aching intimacy that only made it all worse.
He pressed her close and then rolled away, while he could. “God, we’re explosive!” he said huskily, lying very still on his belly. “You’re going to have to marry me soon, Lou. Very soon.”
She was sitting up, holding her knees to her chest, trying to breathe. It had never been that bad. She said so, without realizing that she’d spoken aloud.
“It will get worse, too,” he said heavily. “I want you. I’ve never wanted you so much.”
“But, Jane…”
He was laughing, very softly. He wasn’t angry anymore. He rolled over and sat up beside her. He turned her face up to his. “I broke it off with Jane,” he said gently. “Do you want to know why, now?”
“You…you did?”
He nodded.
“You never said that you ended it.”
“There was no reason to. You wouldn’t let me close enough to find out if we had anything going for us, and it didn’t seem to matter what I said, you wanted to believe that I was out of my mind over Jane.”
“Everyone said you were,” she muttered.
He lifted an eyebrow. “I’m not everyone.”
“I know.” She reached out hesitantly and touched him. It was earthshaking, that simple act. She touched his hair and his face and then his lean, hard mouth. A funny smile drew up her lips.
“Don’t stop there,” he murmured, drawing her free hand down to his sweatshirt.
Her heart jumped. She looked at him uncertainly.
“I won’t let you seduce me,” he mused. “Does that make you feel more confident?”
“It was pretty bad a few minutes ago,” she said seriously. “I don’t want… Well, to hurt you.”
“This won’t,” he said. “Trust me.”
“I suppose I must,” she admitted. “Or I’d have left months ago for another job.”
“That makes sense.”
He guided her hand under the thick, white fabric and drew it up until her fingers settled in the thick, curling hair that covered his chest. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted to look…
There was just enough light so that he could see what she wanted in her expression. With a faint smile, he pulled the sweatshirt off and tossed it to one side.
She stared. He was beautiful like that, she thought dizzily, with broad shoulders and muscular arms. His chest was covered by a thick, wide wedge of reddish-gold hair that ran down to the buckle of his belt.
He reached for her, lifting her over him so that they were sitting face-to-face, joined where their bodies forked. She shivered at the stark intimacy, because she could feel every muscle, almost every cell of
him.
“It gets better,” he said softly. He reached down and found the hem of her own sweatshirt. Seconds later, that and her bra joined his sweatshirt on the floor. He looked down at her, savoring the hard peaks that rose like rubies from the whiteness of her breasts. Then he drew her to him and enveloped her against him, so that they were skin against skin. And he shivered, too, this time.
Her hands smoothed over his back, savoring his warm muscles. She searched for his mouth and for the first time, she kissed him. But even though it was sensual, and she could feel him wanting her, there was tenderness between them, not lust.
He groaned as his body surged against her, and then he laughed at the sudden heat of it.
“Jeb?” she whispered at his lips.
“It’s all right,” he said. “We won’t go all the way. Kiss me again.”
She did, clinging, and the world rocked around them.
“I love you,” she murmured brokenly. “So much!”
His mouth bit into hers hungrily, his arms contracted. For a few seconds, it was as if electricity fused them together. Finally he was able to lift his lips, and his hands caught her hips to keep them still.
“Sorry,” she said demurely.
“Oh, I like it,” he replied ruefully. “But we’re getting in a bit over our heads.”
He lifted her away and stood up, pulling her with him. They looked at each other for a long moment before he handed her things to her and pulled his sweatshirt back on.
He watched the trains go around while she replaced her disheveled clothing. Then, with his hands in his pockets, he glanced down at her.
“That’s why I broke up with Jane,” he said matter-of-factly.
She was jealous, angry. “Because she wouldn’t go all the way with you?”
He chuckled. “No. Because I didn’t want her sexually.”
She watched the trains and counted the times they crossed the joined tracks. Her mind must not be working. “What did you say?” she asked politely, turning to him.
“I said I was never able to want Jane sexually,” he said simply. “To put it simply, she couldn’t arouse me.”
Chapter 11
“A woman can arouse any man if she tries hard enough,” she said pointedly.
“Maybe so,” he said, smiling, “but Jane just never interested me like that. It was too big a part of marriage to take a chance on, so I gradually stopped seeing her. Burke came along, and before any of us knew it, she was married. But I was her security blanket after the accident, and it was hard for her to let go. You remember how she depended on me.”
She nodded. Even at the time, it had hurt.
“But apparently she and her husband have more than a platonic relationship, if their forthcoming happy event is any indication,” he said, chuckling. “And I’m delighted for them.”
“I never dreamed that it was like that for you, with her,” she said, dazed. “I mean, you and I…!”
“Yes, indeed, you and I,” he agreed, nodding. “I touch you and it’s like a shot of lightning in my veins. I get drunk on you.”
“So do I, on you,” she confessed. “But there’s a difference, isn’t there? I mean, you just want me.”
“Do I?” he asked gently. “Do I really just want you? Could lust be as tender as this? Could simple desire explain the way we are together?”
“I love you,” she said slowly.
“Yes,” he said, his eyes glittering at her. “And I love you, Lou,” he added quietly.
Dreams came true. She hadn’t known. Her eyes were full of wonder as she looked at him and saw them in his own eyes. It was Christmas, a time of miracles, and here was one.
He didn’t speak. He just looked at her. After a minute, he picked up the two parcels he’d put under the tree and handed them to her.
“But it’s not Christmas,” she protested.
“Yes, it is. Open them.”
She only hesitated for a minute, because the curiosity was too great. She opened the smallest one and inside was a gray jeweler’s box. With a quick glance at him, she opened it, to find half a key chain inside. She felt her heart race like a watch. It was half of a heart, in pure gold.
“Now the other one,” he said, taking the key chain while she fumbled the paper off the second present.
Inside that box was the other half of the heart.
“Now put them together,” he instructed.
She did, her eyes magnetized to the inscription. It was in French: plus que hier, moins que demain.
“Can you read it?” he asked softly.
“It says—” she had to stop and clear her throat “—more than yesterday, less than tomorrow.”
“Which is how much I love you,” he said. “I meant to ask you again tomorrow morning to marry me,” he said. “But this is as good a time as any for you to say yes. I know you’re afraid of marriage. But I love you and you love me. We’ve got enough in common to keep us together even after all the passion burns out, if it ever does. We’ll work out something about your job and children. I’m not your father and you’re not your mother. Take a chance, Lou. Believe me, there’s very little risk that we won’t make it together.”
She hadn’t spoken. She had both halves of the key chain in her hands and she was looking at them, amazed that he would have picked something so sentimental and romantic for a Christmas gift. He hadn’t known if he could get her to stay or not, but he would have shown her his heart all the same. It touched her as a more expensive present wouldn’t have.
“When did you get them?” she asked through a dry throat.
“After you left the jeweler’s,” he said surprisingly. “I believe in miracles,” he added gently. “I see incredible things every day. I’m hoping for another one, right now.”
She raised her eyes. Even in the dim light, he could see the sparkle of tears, the hope, the pleasure, the disbelief in her face.
“Yes?” he asked softly.
She couldn’t manage the word. She nodded, and the next instant, she was in his arms, against him, close and safe and warm while his mouth ravished her lips.
It was a long time before he had enough to satisfy him, even momentarily. He wrapped her up tightly and rocked her in his arms, barely aware of the train chugging along at their feet. His arms were faintly unsteady and his voice, when he laughed, was husky and deep.
“My God, I thought I was going to lose you.” He ground out the words. “I didn’t know what to do, what to say, to keep you here.”
“All you ever had to say was that you loved me,” she whispered. “I would have taken any risk for it.”
His arms tightened. “Didn’t you know, you blind bat?”
“No, I didn’t! I don’t read minds, and you never said—!”
His mouth covered hers again, stopping the words. He laughed against her breath, anticipating arguments over the years that would be dealt with in exactly this way, as she gave in to him generously, headlong in her response, clinging as if she might die without his mouth on hers.
“No long engagement,” he groaned against her mouth. “I can’t stand it!”
“Neither can I,” she admitted. “Next week?”
“Next week!” He kissed her again. “And I’m not going home tonight.”
She laid her cheek against his chest, worried.
He smoothed her hair. “We won’t make love,” he assured her. “But you’ll sleep in my arms. I can’t bear to be parted from you again.”
“Oh, Jeb,” she whispered huskily. “That’s the sweetest thing to say!”
“Don’t you feel it, too?” he asked knowingly.
“Yes. I don’t want to leave you, either.”
He chuckled with the newness of belonging to someone. It was going to be, he decided, the best marriage of all time. He looked down into her eyes and saw years and years of happiness ahead of them. He said so. She didn’t answer him. She reached up, and her lips said it for her.
The going-away party that Jane Bu
rke threw for Lou became a congratulatory party, because it fell on the day after Coltrain and Lou were married.
They almost stayed at home, so wrapped up in the ecstasy of their first lovemaking that they wouldn’t even get out of bed the next morning.
That morning, he lay looking at his new bride with wonder and unbounded delight. There were tears in her eyes, because it had been painful for her at first. But the love in them made him smile.
“It won’t be like that again,” he assured her.
“I know.” She looked at him blatantly, with pride in his fit, muscular body, in his manhood. She lifted her eyes back up. “I was afraid…”
He traced her mouth, his eyes solemn. “It will be easier the next time,” he said tenderly. “It will get better every time we love each other.”
“I know. I’m not afraid anymore.” She touched his hard mouth and smiled. “You were apprehensive, too, weren’t you?”
“At first,” he had to admit.
“I thought you were never going to start,” she said on a sigh. “I know why you took so long, so that I’d be ready when it happened, but I wondered if you were planning on a night of torture.”
He chuckled. “You weren’t the only one who suffered.” He kissed her tenderly. “It hurt me, to have to hurt you, did you know? I wanted to stop, but it was too late. I was in over my head before I knew it. I couldn’t even slow down.”
“Oh, I never noticed,” she told him, delighted. “You made me crazy.”
“That goes double for me.”
“I thought I knew everything,” she mused. “I’m a doctor, after all. But theory and practice are very different.”
“Yes. Later, when you’re in fine form again, I’ll show you some more ways to put theory into practice,” he drawled.
She laughed and pummeled him.
They were early for Jane’s get-together, and the way they clung to each other would have been more than enough to prove that they were in love, without the matching Victorian wedding bands they’d chosen.
“You look like two halves of a whole,” Jane said, looking from Lou’s radiant face to Copper’s.
“We know,” he said ruefully. “They rode us high at the hospital when we made rounds earlier.”