by Penny Jordan
Nico's hands cupped her face, his, 'Saffron, don't,' releasing the tension inside her so that she cried as though she could never stop, silent, ceaseless tears that filled her eyes and soaked his shirt.
For several minutes he simply let her cry and Saffron was dimly conscious of the comforting warmth of his skin beneath her cheek, the stroke of his thumb as he brushed away the tears that were gradually easing.
She felt no fear in his embrace, no sense of panic when he gently traced the outline of her lips and then covered them with his own. She could feel the male warmth of him through the thin barrier of their clothes, her senses started to stir and she responded, stiffening suddenly as a mental image of Guido came between her and the man holding her in his arms. His fingers were lightly caressing the shape of her spine, but she was barely aware of his gently arousing touch. Sickness shivered inside her, the palms of her hands were moist with perspiration.
'Saffron.' There was regret and understanding in the way he spoke her name, slowly releasing her.
'No.'
From somewhere she found the courage to make the small, explosive protest, her hands going to Nico's shoulders, small fingers biting tensely into the solid muscle.
'No, don't leave me, Nico,' she whispered, adding pleadingly, 'Make love to me now.' When there was no response, she continued huskily, 'Don't you see? All I can remember is Guido; all I can feel, smell, hear...' She was starting to tense again, her eyes clinging despairingly to Nico's in the darkness. 'Please?' she begged, her mouth trembling. 'Please, I don't want that to be the only.. .'
'Saffron—God, you don't know what you're asking!'
The muted undertones carried a vehemence that sent anguish curling down to her toes, but she refused to acknowledge the pain of yet another rejection.
'Am I so undesirable?' she demanded brokenly, 'so sexless that you don't want me?' Her eyes searched his face again, and finding .no response she added bitterly, 'Or is it that you can't bear to touch me now that Guido ...'
She heard his stifled curse and then she was in his arms, held close to the hard contours of his body. 'Never say that again,' she heard him say grittily against her ear. 'No man worth his salt would let such a consideration stand in his way, and besides, Guido did not rape you. You are still a virgin, and it is for this reason .. .'
'Because I'm a virgin! Am I then to go a virgin to my death?' she asked him in a voice that trembled with resentment. 'Does my virginity somehow make me less desirable, less physically arousing? I want you, Nico,' she told him recklessly. 'I need you, I...'
'No, you don't,' came the grim rejoinder. 'You want someone to make love to you to banish the memory of Guido—I or any other, even half desirable male would do, and if I had the slightest atom of sense ...' He looked down at her, cupping her face, his eyes hot and hungry. 'God, I want you, Saffron,' he groaned thickly, sliding his fingers into the short curls framing her face, 'and you're making it impossible for me to remember that I shouldn't have you.'
Saffron made no response. She knew instinctively that she needed the healing balm of Nico's lovemaking to destroy the memory of Guido's assault, and she knew just as instinctively that Nico would never physically abuse a woman, no matter what he might be or what his mission in life was.
When his mouth touched hers, she met his kiss with an eagerness that made him moan in protest, transforming his gentle possession of her lips into a white heat of mutual need that completely transcended anything Saffron had known or thought to know in the past.
His skin when she slid her fingers beneath his shirt felt hot, almost scorching her fingers, the pulsating fever of his body leaving no room for fear or second thoughts. In a gesture that was purely instinctive she moulded herself against him, glorying in the sudden tensing of his muscles, the tightly controlled shudder that ripped through him as he lifted his head and stared at her through the darkness.
'Oh God, Saffron!' He said her name unevenly as though he was holding himself under tight control and unable to gauge how long that control would last out.
Saffron didn't want it to; she wanted his possession to be total and final, not tempered to accommodate her situation and inexperience. She wanted them to meet in equal need and desire; to lose herself completely in the bittersweet surrender of her body and forget all the whys and wherefores of what was happening.
'Saffron.'
This time there was resignation, and something else, that stirred a fever in her blood, in the way he said her name. Her lips parted willing beneath the hungry pressure of his; his kiss was totally devastating, and she quivered under the assault of his mouth a warm, insidious helplessness flooding through her, leaving her completely pliant and responsive.
His hands slid round her back, lifting her slightly so that she was lying against him, the warm sure touch of his fingers on her spine causing small explosions of pleasure inside her. Her own hands reached hungrily towards him, sliding inside his shirt, exploring the breadth of his shoulders and then trailing experimentally through the dark hair matting his chest. She heard his swiftly indrawn breath with a small gasp of pleasure that she actually had the power to move him, the tentative, almost feverish kisses she pressed against the warm, damp skin of his throat an indication of her growing urgency to experience everything there was to experience before it was too late. She was like a small child who had deliberately refused to open a single Christmas present before the appointed time, who suddenly foresaw the possibility of them all being removed, and now couldn't wait to unwrap the lot.
'Dear God, Saffron! Have you any idea of what you're doing to me?' Nico's piously unsteady demand, muttered into her ear, caused small convulsions of delight to course through her, and when he started to remove her blouse and bra she was achingly eager to be rid of them, to feel his hands against her bare flesh, to have those long skilled fingers appeasing the almost unbearable ache in her breasts, already swollen and acutely sensitive to his touch.
When he had removed her clothes he took her mouth in a long drugging kiss, not touching her at all, except to clamp her against him, his eyes so dark that they appeared black as he looked slowly down the length of her body and muttered hoarsely, 'Dio, I must be out of my skull, but God help me, I want you. You're like an ache in the gut, a fever in the blood, Saffron, and you'll never know how many nights I've slept alone, wanting you like this in my arms, sweetly naked and wanting me.'
His words were like a magic incantation, banishing any lingering doubts about what she was doing, fanning her burning need to experience his possession before her life was extinguished.
'Undress me, Saffron.' The husky command was punctuated with ardent kisses as the warm male mouth slid moistly along the line of her throat, strong teeth nibbling softly at her earlobe, and tightening possessively on her shoulder when she complied with his request. There was something undeniably erotic about removing his clothes, about the new freedom to place random kisses against whichever part of his body she revealed as she unfastened and pulled off his shirt. Her fingers touched tentatively on the belt of his jeans and she paused. In the darkness she felt him tense, his husky, 'For God's sake don't stop now,' inciting her to struggle with the stiff leather until it suddenly gave way beneath her probing fingers, partially exposing the taut flatness of his belly, hard and arrowed with dark hair that felt crisp and alien to her touch.
All of a sudden he was breathing differently, the even rhythm broken, the sudden urgent possession of his hands as they caressed her breasts thrilling and just slightly frightening.
'What are you trying to do to me,' he moaned against her throat, 'drive me mad with frustration? Can't you tell how much I want to have you touch my body? Don't you know...' He tensed suddenly, all the passion dying out of his touch. 'Of course you don't,' he said in a flatly mocking voice. 'How could you? You're a virgin. I can't do this, Saffron,' he continued, tight-lipped. 'Don't…'
Here was her chance to back down, and she knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that she wasn't g
oing to.
'Nico, please!' She bent her head and trailed soft kisses downwards over the dark shadowing of hair, feeling him tense and then jerk convulsively as he pulled her away.
'What's wrong?' she asked innocently. 'Don't you like me doing that?'
'You're not that naive.' The words were bitten off and tight, every bone in his face hard beneath its tanned covering of skin. There was not enough room for him to hold her off on the narrow bed and despite the fabric of his jeans Saffron was aware of the urgent hardening of his thighs, the tautness of a body held on a very fine thread of control. She waited, breath held slightly in agonised apprehension, subduing hysterical laughter at the role reversal. Surely she should be the one hanging back, hesitant.
'What's the matter?'
He had sensed her laughter and she could feel him probing the darkness for an answer to his question.
'I never thought it would be so difficult to lose my virginity. Is that why you don't want me? Because of that?'
'Don't be bloody stupid!' Nico moved jerkily, pulling her ruthlessly against him so that she could not help but be aware of his arousal. 'Of course I damned well want you,' he muttered tight-lipped, 'but I want you as a woman, and I don't damned well know if I can exercise the self-restraint to initiate a virgin. Does that answer your question?' She felt him rake frustrated fingers through his hair, his groaned, 'God, don't ask me to be more explicit or I might just show you,' shivering against her skin, provoking a reaction that committed her to a path from which there would be no turning back as she pressed herself against him, winding her arms round his neck, her lips teasing tiny kisses against his throat as she whispered encouragingly, 'Yes, please,. Nico,' and felt, not without a tremor of reaction, the explosively expressive exhalation of breath fanning her hair before she was rolled over on to her back, the cool night air shafting across her skin, raising goosebumps as Nico got up.
For a moment she thought he was going to leave her, and tension coiled through her as she braced her body against rejection. But in the moonlight she saw that he was merely removing his jeans. He had his back to her, and she caught her breath, remembering how she had seen him after his swim in the river, and her eyes widened in startled appreciation of the total maleness of him, so that when he turned she was watching him with unashamed curiosity.
Instead of joining her on the bed, he dropped down at her side, his face hidden from her as he ran his hand gently along her body, and then again with greater urgency.
'Don't blame me if this doesn't turn out to be the way you've always imagined,' he warned her brutally. 'First times aren't necessarily good times.'
But it wasn't just her 'first time', it was going to be the only time, Saffron thought achingly, and then there was no room for thought as Nico's mouth followed the path taken by his hand, and she was trembling and arching against him, welcoming the bruising hardness of his body as he joined her on the bed, holding her against him while he plundered the moist sweetness of her mouth until she was dizzy and bemused by the sudden explosion of passion between them.
'Saffron!'
Her name jerked past his lips and she felt the sudden tensing of his body, as his mouth left the warm curve of her breast and possessed hers with the same hard determination with which he parted her thighs and slid heavily between them.
Panic flared and she fought to subdue it, but his hold on her wasn't relaxing, and neither was the pressure of his mouth. His hands had left breasts to hold and mould her hips as she arched feverishly against him, possessed by the same urgency she could feel emanating from him.
There was swift and agonising pain from which she recoiled instinctively, but the hard male hands refused to release her hips and she moaned in protest beneath the assault of his mouth, desire fleeing in the face of pain and panic.
It was over almost before it had begun, leaving her aching and restless, quivering with reaction to something she was not going to admit had in any way failed to live up to her expectations.
Unfortunately Nico didn't seem to share her reticence.
'Not quite the world-shattering experience you'd imagined?' he asked dryly. 'I did try to warn you. Never mind,' he mocked tersely, 'it will be different next time.'
'What next time?' she wanted to demand, but she was too tired, too defeated and depressed. Her eyes started to close and she neither knew nor cared that she was still lying naked in Nico's arms, the warmth of his body her only covering.
She woke during the night, escaping from the talons of a nightmare, Nico's voice reaching her out of the darkness, bringing her abruptly awake.
'It's all right,' he told her. 'It's only a nightmare. Guido isn't here. Or have I taken his place?'
She didn't pretend to misunderstand. Her body felt curiously light and fluid, and she flushed, remembering how earlier she had pleaded with him to make love to her. He had been right, the experience had not been what she had expected.
'You did warn me,' she admitted evenly.
'But you still expected to feel the earth move?' There was amusement in the words, firing fresh indignation as she grew accustomed to the dark and searched his face.
'Well, if it makes you feel any better, I've heard that it can, given the right circumstances and the right man. And anyway, it will never be as bad as that again, unless you make the mistake of choosing either a clumsy or inexperienced lover.'
'How would I do that?' she retorted bitterly. 'Olivia will never let me leave here alive—you know that.'
'And that was why you wanted me to make love to you?'
'Not entirely.' She had to be honest. 'It was so many things; Guido ...' she shuddered. 'I couldn't bear only to be able to remember how I felt when he touched me, and…'
'Go on.' An iron inflexibility had entered his voice and warned her against refusing to answer.
'And I thought with you it would be different,' she told him candidly. 'I didn't realise ...'
'That I'm only human?' he demanded wryly with a twisted smile. 'That I can only endure so much provocation without finding it physically impossible to draw back? Perhaps I ought to do something to get back on my pedestal, mm?'
For a moment she didn't realise what he meant, but when his fingers started to move seductively against her skin and her whole body trembled convulsively against him she realised, and tried to tense away. But Nico wouldn't let her. His skilled arousal of her body was something she had no defences against, and something that shocked and startled her after her earlier pain. Her body seemed to have no recollection of it, because it was responding to Nico as though it welcomed and accepted him as its lover. Her breasts peaked urgently beneath his sensual stroking, hardening at the first touch of his lips. Lips that teased and tormented until she was reaching towards him, her hands locking feverishly behind his neck, her fingers curling into his hair, her whispered 'Nico,' bringing the response she ached for and the warm possession of his mouth against the aroused centre of her breast.
And he didn't stop there. This time, without the heated urgency of before, his hands and mouth stroked lingeringly across her body, making her tremble when they caressed the vulnerability of her flat stomach and moved lower to the slender curve of her thighs, causing a frenetic response to his lovemaking that had her pressing mutely pleading kisses against his own body, touching it as she had not dared touch it before, letting him guide and instruct her until she was soft and pliant in his arms, and this time his possession was accomplished without pain or withdrawal as she was coaxed gently into relaxing until she was free to experience the pleasure he was giving her, his name muffled beneath his mouth as he carried her upwards with him to gaze spellbound and dazzled at the full glory of the sun before she sank into black velvet darkness, emotional tears leaving damp tracks against Nico's skin.
When at last she was capable of speech, and Nico's heartbeat had stopped sounding like thunder and resumed a normal reassuring thud, she pressed a shy kiss against his throat and murmured a hesitant, 'Thank you.'
She couldn't see his face, but there was a good deal of wryness in the way he said, 'It's more usual for the man to do the thanking, especially after an experience like that...'
Saffron didn't know what he meant and felt too shy and tired to ask, but she would ask him in the morning, she promised herself as her eyes closed, and sleep washed over her.
Saffron opened her eyes. Something was different. She frowned, trying to remember what it was, and then realisation came flooding over her. She was alone in the bed, but still naked beneath the cover that Nico had obviously tucked round her before leaving.
Common sense told her that she ought to feel shame, or at the very least regret, for what had happened, but she couldn't. What she did feel was an intense bubbling sensation of happiness, and a warm rippling pleasure in her own body. She stretched luxuriously, aware of herself in a way she had never been until Nico taught her. Nico. Warmth filled her. His lovemaking had been everything she had ever dreamed of, but where was he?
An alien sound reached her from outside, and she ran to the window, just in time to see a helicopter circling the farmhouse. Hope that she had suppressed for so long flared up inside her. Did that mean that they were actually looking for her? Surely a helicopter in these remote parts must mean something?
Tense and excited, she started to dress. Downstairs she could hear sounds of activity. Nico would be down there. He too would have seen the helicopter, but with very different emotions. For the first time she faced the sobering thought that they were on opposite sides; that her freedom meant he had failed, and Olivia had made it plain what happened to failures. A terrible fear engulfed her, but she forced it away. She felt nothing for Nico as a person, nothing at all. Heavens, if it hadn't been for her situation she would never have dreamed of letting him so much as kiss her, never mind. ..
The door opened and he came in, stern and unsmiling.