Midnight Runaway

by JoAnn Ross

  He was deep inside her, stretching her, becoming a part of her. “I’ve been ready for you for years.” The words were torn from Claren in deep gasps. “I’ve been waiting for you all my life.”

  There was no gentleness in either of them. Power, heat, desire poured out of him and into her. His eyes remained opened, locked on hers as he allowed her to set the pace and rhythm, a rhythm that matched his own galloping needs. Dash knew that he shouldn’t let her race so fast, realized that he should slow her down to allow him to indulge in the leisurely foreplay women preferred. But she felt so damn good.

  He took her breast in his ravenous mouth, licking, sucking, biting until her heated flesh was alive with a thousand humming pulses. Her body was slick as she strained against him; her knees pressed tight against his hips; her fingernails dug into his chest as the exquisite, painful pressure built.

  Claren clung to Dash as tightly as he clung to her. The breath was trapped in her lungs and her back arched when the coiled spring inside her finally released. A moment later she felt his body tense and heard him shout as he erupted deep inside her. As he shuddered beneath her, Claren couldn’t remember when her name had ever sounded so wonderful.

  Boneless, she crumpled against Dash, then slowly slid her moist body down him. They lay together in a tangle of arms and legs.

  “There’s something I have to tell you,” Dash said when he could talk again. He was playing with the silky hair that was spread over his bare chest like tongues of flame.

  His somber tone was a distinct contrast to the passion they’d just shared. Claren looked up at him, her eyes guarded. “What?” she asked on a shaky whisper. Please, she begged silently, don’t tell me that you’re leaving. Not yet.

  “I love you.” Even as he heard himself saying the unplanned words, Dash knew that they were true. He was also surprised at how good they made him feel. “I love you,” he repeated, plucking at the delicate pink lips that had parted on a soft breath of surprised air. Once said, the words came easier with every saying. “Love you.”

  She could barely believe it. “You don’t have to say the words,” she said. “I don’t need them.”

  “But I do.” She was the purest, most honest person he’d ever met. She was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and although Dash had no idea what he was going to do when the time came to tell her the truth, he did know that he wasn’t ever going to let her get away. “You asked me if I was married.”

  Fear clutched her throat. “And you said you were divorced.”

  Her flesh, beneath his stroking hand, had turned to ice. “It was the truth,” he reassured her. Sitting up against the headboard, he pulled her up with him. “But I want you to know that I never loved my wife. And,” he said before she could think him a total jerk, “Julia never loved me.”

  “You both must have been very sad.” Claren, who had nearly married a man she now knew she’d never truly loved, was immensely relieved to have escaped such a terrible fate. She looked up at him, searching for secrets in his hooded eyes. “Why did you marry her?”

  “Because she had something I’d always thought I’d wanted.”

  “What?”

  “Wealth and social position in the community.”

  Claren would have been no more surprised if Dash had suddenly dumped her off the bed onto the floor. “I can’t imagine you in society,” she murmured.

  “Neither could I. Once I got there.”

  There were so many things about Dash MacKenzie that Claren longed to know. But she didn’t want to push him. After all, now that he’d confessed that her feelings weren’t one-sided, she’d have the rest of her life to learn all his secrets. The thought filled her with a warm, comfortable glow.

  “What about your wife?” she asked. Julia. Dash’s wife now had a name. It was a name belonging to a sleek, sophisticated woman. The type of woman she’d tried for so many years to be. “What did she want from you?”

  “A trophy,” Dash answered unerringly. Julia had been quite honest about her feelings at the time. “A tamed stud she could show off in Park Avenue drawing rooms.”

  “I can certainly understand that,” Claren surprised him by saying.

  “You are kidding.” He tilted her chin up and looked deep into her eyes. She was the last person he’d expect to have anything in common with his former wife.

  “Not really.” She pressed her hand against his chest, loving the feel of his heartbeat against her palm. Mine, she thought wonderingly. He’s all mine. Dash MacKenzie was more than her lover; he was her destiny. “If you want to know the unvarnished truth, Dash,” she said, “I rather liked showing you off at the jazz festival today.”

  “Did you, now?”

  “I’m afraid I did. Especially after what Maxine had said about Elliott.”

  Even the sound of the guy’s name was enough to send a jolt of jealousy through Dash. Reminding himself that the former groom-to-be hadn’t even managed to take Claren to bed, Dash forced down the hot, uncharacteristic emotion. “What did she say?”

  “Say?” she asked idly as her fingers played with the crisp dark hairs covering his chest, following the arrowing over his stomach.

  “Claren.” Sounding half-strangled, Dash grasped hold of her hand just as it ventured into forbidden territory. “What did Maxine say about Byrd?”

  “Oh, that.” She was entranced by the way Dash’s body was already revealing that he wanted her again. As she wanted him. “She told me that everyone in town had been worried about his apparent lack of masculinity.”

  “They actually discussed that?” Dash had almost forgotten how gossip provided the mother lode of entertainment in small towns. His parents had certainly borne the brunt of it enough times. As had he.

  “Apparently in great length,” Claren agreed, unaware of the sudden tensing of Dash’s jaw. Her attention was currently directed to other parts of his body. “It seemed several people were worried that Elliott wouldn’t be able to satisfy me. Sexually or emotionally.”

  Tugging her hand loose of his light hold, she wrapped her fingers around his burgeoning length. “But you needn’t worry, Dash,” she murmured throatily. Her breath stirred in the crisp dark hair between his tight thighs, making him rock hard. “No one could ever say that about you.”

  When her lips caressed him in the most intimate kiss of all, Dash sucked in a deep, painful breath. “Dammit, Irish,” he groaned even as he lifted himself into the willing warmth of her mouth. She’d been a virgin only a few short hours ago. So how the hell had she learned to drive him over the brink? “You’re going to drive me crazy.”

  She certainly hoped so. Claren had been working on instinct alone, but from his agonized response she realized that she was definitely on the right track. How strange that there were so many books written on the subject of sex, she mused as she caressed the buttery soft male flesh with her lips, her tongue. When all she had to do was to follow her heart.

  Just when he thought he was going to blow sky-high, Dash grabbed hold of her tangled hair and lifted her head. “One of these days,” he said tightly, struggling for control, “if and when I can ever think coherently again, remind me to tell you that you are incredible.”

  With hands that were not as steady as he would have liked, he quickly sheathed himself, then, unable to wait another minute, he rolled her over on her back and buried himself in her silken warmth. The storm of release broke quickly, leaving them both shuddering. And hurling Dash into a deep intimate relationship that a mere two days ago he’d neither expected nor wanted.

  * * *

  OVER THE NEXT WEEK, they fell into a predictable routine. After breakfast Dash worked on all the projects that had been put off too long, and Claren would go upstairs, where she’d spend the morning in her studio. They’d break for lunch, and more often than not, make love before going back to work. Evenings they spent in front of the fire, sharing what they’d both done that day. When the flames had burned down, they’d go upstairs to Dash’
s wide bed.

  Immersed in the pleasure of newly discovered love and the agony of artistic creation, Claren failed to notice that Dash disappeared several times during the day. She did, however, notice that he seemed to be growing increasingly edgy.

  “You’re getting ready to leave, aren’t you?” she asked on the morning of their eighth day together.

  Dash looked up from his waffles. “Of course not. Whatever gave you that idea?”

  “You’ve been acting just like Darcy,” she said. “Whenever he was about to take off on another expedition.”

  “I’m not Darcy,” Dash pointed out. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Then why—”

  Dash was relieved when the intercom at the gate buzzed, cutting off her questioning.

  “Hello?” Claren answered.

  “Claren? It’s me. Elliott.”

  “Go away.”

  There was a moment’s shocked hesitation. “Claren, please, I just want to talk to you.”

  “We have nothing left to say to one another.”

  “I’m not leaving here until we talk. Come on, Claren, you’re not being fair.”

  Claren exchanged a look with Dash, who shrugged, letting her know the decision was totally hers. “Come on up to the house,” she decided on a sigh. “But I’m very busy, so I can only give you five minutes to say whatever it is you came to say.”

  “Thank you, darling,” he said, sounding more humble than she’d ever heard him.

  Less than three minutes later the doorbell rang. While Claren went to answer it, Dash drank his coffee and asked himself how could he tell her that the reason for his edginess was that the two men who had quite possibly come to Port Vancouver to kill Claren had disappeared so efficiently that even St. John, with all his worldwide contacts, hadn’t been able to learn their location.

  Waiting had always made him edgy, but now that Claren was the target, Dash had been going quietly out of his mind.

  “Hello, Elliott,” he heard Claren say. “This is certainly unexpected.”

  “I brought your clothes,” Elliott Byrd offered. “Your aunt thought you might want them.”

  Claren thought about all those dreary little business suits in the gloomy colors and wondered what had ever possessed her to buy them in the first place. “That’s very considerate of Aunt Winifred,” she said, “but she really needn’t have bothered. Why don’t you take them back and give them to the Salvation Army?”

  “Give away perfectly good clothing?” Elliott looked at Claren as if she’d grown an extra head. “What will you wear to work?”

  “In case you’ve forgotten, Elliott,” Claren responded coolly, “I quit my job. At your request.”

  “Of course I remember.” He ran his long, delicate fingers through his thin blond hair. “But I assumed, after you came to your senses, that you’d be returning to Seattle.”

  “For your information, I have come to my senses, Elliott.”

  “I’m relieved to hear that. We’ve been quite concerned.”

  “Interesting how none of you have called to see how I was doing.”

  A red flush rose from his collar. “Actually I was away, but I assumed your aunt would have telephoned.”

  “Away?” She wondered if he’d been so humiliated by her behavior that he’d felt it necessary to leave town until the gossip died down. “Where did you go?”

  “Hawaii.”

  “Hawaii?” Claren stared at him in disbelief. “You went on our honeymoon by yourself?”

  “Actually I didn’t go by myself.” The red flush staining his face darkened. “Lisa went with me.”

  “Lisa? My maid of honor?”

  “Well, all the arrangements were made for two,” Elliott answered defensively. “It seemed wasteful not to use the extra ticket.”

  “Or the honeymoon suite?”

  “It could have been you, Claren.”

  “Thank God it wasn’t,” she responded hotly.

  “If you’re still angry about the paternity suit—”

  “I’m not angry about the damn lawsuit!”

  “You don’t have to shout, Claren.”

  “I’m not shouting,” she yelled. “You still don’t understand, do you? What made me furious was the fact that you lied to me.”

  “I didn’t lie. I never told you I could have children.”

  “It was a lie of omission,” Claren countered. “You knew I wanted a large family and you just let me rattle on, picking out names, talking about how wonderful it was going to be, and all the time you’d already made certain that we wouldn’t have any children.”

  “I was going to tell you.”

  “When?”

  “When it was appropriate.”

  “When it was too late for me to do anything about it,” she countered hotly.

  “Claren.” Elliott put his hands on her shoulders. “It would have worked out,” he insisted, tightening his grip when she tried to shrug it off. “You know as well as I do that our careers, not to mention my political future, would not have left any time for a child. We were going to have such a good life, darling,” he said, pulling her toward him. “We still can. If you’d just stop being so stubborn.”

  Claren glared up at him, wondering how she’d ever thought she’d been in love with this man. “You lied to me, Elliott.”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He massaged her tense muscles. “It’s not too late.” He lowered his head. “I think I made a crucial mistake not making love to you,” he said. “It would have created a bond between us.”

  Claren couldn’t believe it. “You want to make love to me? Now? After everything you’ve done?”

  His lips were a whisper from hers. “We can put that in the past, Claren.” He drew her closer. “Trust me.”

  Dash decided that he’d heard enough. “The lady would do better to trust a boa constrictor,” he growled as he entered the entrance hall.

  Elliott looked up in surprise. “Who’s this, Claren?”

  “I’m the man Claren’s going to marry,” Dash heard himself say. As surprised as he was to have made such a statement, he immediately found it eminently satisfying. “I’m also a very jealous man, Byrd,” he warned on a soft, deadly voice. “So if you know what’s good for you, you’ll take your hands off my woman.”

  “Your woman?” Elliott dropped his hands to his sides and backed up, his startled gaze darting from Dash to Claren, to Dash, then back to Claren. “This is your way of paying me back,” he finally decided. “You want me to think that you have something going with this guy.”

  Claren’s mind was still whirling from Dash’s stunning pronouncement. But not so much that she couldn’t enjoy Elliott’s obvious discomfort. “Actually, I do have something going with Dash,” she said, going to stand beside him. “He’s my lover.”

  “Your lover?” Elliott’s pale blue eyes widened farther.

  “Her lover,” Dash confirmed. Putting his arm around Claren, he hauled her against him.

  “I don’t believe it.”

  Rather than answer, Dash lowered his head and captured Claren’s unresisting mouth. As always heat instantly flared, making Claren forget that this kiss was supposed to be for show. She went up on her toes and threw her arms around the strong dark column of Dash’s neck. Her avid mouth clung to Dash’s in a way that could never be feigned.

  Dammit, she was doing it to him again. The way her hungry little mouth was eating into his was making Dash hard. Forcing down his desire for now, he broke the heated contact and eyed her former fiancé over her head.

  “Believe it,” he advised.

  “Claren,” Elliott said, obviously shaken, “I can understand why you’d want to have an affair in order to pay me back for some perceived indiscretions. But I can’t allow you to marry this obvious Neanderthal.”

  “You don’t have anything to say about it,” Dash said before Claren had a chance to open her mouth. “You gave up all rights to Claren when you chose to betray her.
So you may as well go back to Seattle, Byrd. Because there isn’t anything for you here.”

  A muscle jerked in Elliott’s finely sculptured cheek. “My mother was right all along,” he said acidly, giving Claren a sharp, censorious look. “Blood will tell. It’s obvious that you’re just as irresponsible as your dead uncle. As for your lover,” he said, shooting Dash a glowering glance, “I wouldn’t be at all surprised to discover a few scalp hunters in his family closet.”

  That said, he turned on his heel and marched out of the house, slamming the carved oak door behind him.

  “Dash?” She’d felt him stiffen at Elliott’s scathing accusation. “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah.” He forced himself to relax—neck, shoulders, arms. “How could you let yourself get mixed up with a creep like that?” The words had been familiar, as had the superior disdain. They’d been as much a part of his growing up as the beatings.

  “I don’t know. I suppose it’s proof of how truly lonely I was,” Claren said on a sigh. “But I don’t want to talk about Elliott. He’s in the past, and I have every intention of keeping him there.”

  She twined her arms around his neck. “As for the present and the immediate future, how about going upstairs and letting me ravish you?”

  “That sounds immensely promising.” Pushing down all the logical reasons why this could turn out to be the mistake of a lifetime, Dash lifted her into his arms and carried her up the curving stairway to the bedroom.

  CHAPTER 10

  “THAT WAS WONDERFUL,” Claren murmured.

  “It always is.” Dash ran his hand down her side from her shoulder to her thigh, loving the silken feel of her still-warm skin beneath his fingertips.

  “I wasn’t talking about that,” she said. “Although you’re right, it was terrific. Every time we make love, it’s like the first time. Only better.”

  She smiled up at him and pressed her lips against his. “However, I was referring to the way you let Elliott think we were getting married. Although I detest lies, I have to admit that one definitely hit its mark. I can’t ever remember seeing him so shaken.”